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joelhoney · 6 months

Note

do u take requests? if u do, could i have an outbreak au where reader rides joel in his truck? thank u! i LOVED #1 girl btw

open road

wanted to practice my writing skills again so here! :)

warnings: 18+ !!!! smut, pwp, implied age gap, feminine reader, daddy kink sry, pet names galore

“One of the guys called you scary.”

The sky is dull, something bland and colorless in-between blue and grey—something that’s become a norm. A clear, cloudless sky comes once every few months if a trickle of luck happens to dwell upon the area, but even for a pair that travels as much as you and Joel do, the memories of that kind of weather have become few and far between. Joel is grown, though, and he’s wise, and he knows there isn’t any good that comes out of complaining over something as trivial as this.

Anyway, he’s got a whole little ball of sunshine beside him, feet propped up on the dashboard clumsily.

“Hm. What’d you say?” He grunts back, trying to hide how the comment has begun to make him think. He’s not new to the entire scary bit, but every time the comment arises he finds himself wanting to know your thoughts, if you agree, if you know he doesn’t mind the reputation as long as you find him the opposite.

“I said no, you’re just old.”

You’re in your socks because you hate the weight of the boots you wear, and you’re wearing one of his old shirts, from years and years ago, thin with wear and the collar cut off so it hangs across your collarbones. It’s your favorite, this ratted brown color with a band on it that performed when you weren’t even born yet, you think. Joel likes this one, too, he won’t tell you just how much; he just hopes you don’t pick up on the fact that he fucks you all the more harder whenever you wear this around him.

“I’m not old, sugar.”

“You are old. Older than me and the guy who said you were scary.” A lithe hand comes twisting at the grey hairs on his temple. He tuts and you pull back, giggling out an apology. “When’re we getting there?”

“Slow down. The open road is a blessin’, don’t you think, sweetheart?” To Joel, everything is a blessing in the height of such an uncertain time—a blessin’, in his vernacular, his drawled-out twang. It’s his turn, now, to reach across the console and wrap a hand around your thigh. It tickles, and you tense through the material of your jeans. Sometimes you wonder if you can wear your dresses on tasks like these, ones not so high in urgency, but with a destination nevertheless. You want a clicker gnawin’ off your leg, be my guest, he said once, and that was that.

“I guess,” you muster half-heartedly, fingers skating along the expanse of Joel’s hand. Two of your fingers align with one of his own. Outside the scenery is mostly grey, barely green, lifeless, but interesting anyway, the ruins and the rot, blatant reminders of what you’re all living in the thick of.

You swallow and wrap a hand around his wrist. “Do we need to be there now?”

He huffs out this laugh between exasperation, and quickly he presses two fingers to the crotch of your bottoms. “So soon?” He’d just eaten you out before you left less than two hours ago, the hem of your shirt stuffed into your mouth so nobody would hear. You buck up into his hand, which has now left, and whine lowly in your throat.

“That wasn’t fair,” you bemoan, chasing his hand. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“I’m jus’ try’na enjoy the road, dove. Back then, this’d be drownin’ in traffic. People beatin’ the five-thirty rush. Now it’s jus’ you and me.” He hums some song, this soully little thing, one he likes to sing on the road when it’s just you in the car. If anyone else tags along, he’s silent.

“Jo-el,” you whine. “No fair. You got me all wet.”

He sucks air in through his teeth, pats you lightly on the smooth surface of your cheek without even having to spare you a glance. “Be patient with me, sweetheart. We need to get there in time.” There’s an edge to his voice, hardened a bit; he’s not reminding this time, he’s warning. You pout and peek out the half-cracked window. Open road and the dim horizon, no sign of the building you’re supposed to stop at.

“Fine.” Your voice comes out like a sneer.

He clicks his tongue. “I said patient.”

“I am being—” you huff, crossing your arms and lowering your feet noisily. “It’s not fair that you touched me and then won’t even let me—let yourself—whatever.” You shuffle, bumbling irritatedly by yourself for a minute.

If you ask Joel, some of his best moments come from getting you to behave.

Because you are virtually impossible to wrangle into some semblance of obedience. It used to be next to impossible to even get you to shut up, but over time it got easier—thumb on the pad of your tongue, knee shoved in-between your legs, hand wrung into your hair. Just like that, and you’re his pliant little baby again. If you ask Joel now, he’d sigh contentedly, say how proud he’s become that you’re no longer the bratty minx you once were.

But that would be a lie, he figures, once he hears the exaggeratedly breathy moans from his right.

He doesn’t need to look to know what you’ve wrapped yourself up into, your hand shoved into your unzipped jeans, rubbing slow circles along your pussy. It probably doesn’t even feel as good as it sounds, even if you make noises with everything he does to you. Feels so good, Daddy, you whisper into the air, and he trails a hand down to squeeze himself through his jeans.

“How good, baby?” He grunts, eyes flitting over to you. You, in that goddamn t-shirt and everything, looking delicious enough to eat. He’d told you once never to wear shit like skirts and dresses, but God the amount of times he hoped you’d wear them anyway, so he could bounce you up and down on his dick and have you barely undressed. He swears he has dreams of his favorite pink number, the one that barely even touches the middle of your thighs, tied at the back with a pretty ribbon. He loves tugging on that ribbon, watching the material loosen around you so he can grope you up and make you both feel nasty, listen to your jagged moans of daddy, don’t rip the dress while he’s toying with your clit.

“Not enough,” you say breathily. “S’your fault.”

“Mine?” He echoes with a grunt. “You’re the one whorin’ herself out t’me for a lick of my attention, baby girl.”

“Please, I’m—just a minute,” you heave out, voice wet and desperate. He wonders what’s gotten you this antsy, this restless, this needy for a taste of him. The thought gets him harder than ever, and before he even thinks to palm himself, your tiny hand is already there, and he’s shuddering from it. You know him so well, know exactly what to hold, exactly what to touch to get him to give in.

“Jeans,” he orders, eyes zeroing in on a blank patch of grass to swerve into.

Your jeans are loose already, and you barely have to shimmy before they hit the floor of the truck, tiptoeing your sock-clad feet out while he parks and wrenches his seat to a semi-lying position, dragging you over to him to sit on his lap, your thighs quivering on either side of his jeans.

You adjust yourself so the thick of his cock is pressed directly to your panties, and grind forward. He stops you, his hand coming down to slap against your half-bare ass. “I just wan’ed to get to the damn meeting on time, get the shit we needed, and go the fuck back to the zone.” Another spank. “Do you have to be such a goddamn brat, sweetheart?”

“I just—I needed you,” you half-lie, the lace of your pretty underwear delicious friction with what little movement you’re allowed. “Even wore the pair you like, Daddy.”

“Yeaaah, you did.” He sucks air in through his teeth, watching your cunt swallow the thin material of his favorite pair of yours. Pink and lacy, looted from a mall two cities away. “You know Daddy can never resist her, can you?” He thumbs roughly at your pussy, coercing the panties through your folds. “You know he’s dyin’ to fuck ‘er real bad, too.”

“Need it, I need it,” you babble, your movement causing the shirt to droop off. He gropes at your barely-covered chest, a low growl thrumming out of him.

“What’s got my bunny all revved up, huh? Your energy beats the truck’s damn engine.” He lifts you up so he can let you drop onto his cock, bullying his tip into you until tears sprout at your eyes from the size of him. He’s always going to be huge, and it’s always going to be a whole thing, having to bottom out inside.

It helps that you’re wet, sopping and dripping onto his cock, his balls, his spread thighs, your own inner thighs—your slick is everywhere and it’s obscene. Every movement either of you make causes a squelching sound to resound across the stale space of the truck. “Fuuuck,” he grunts, watching your cunt swallow him whole. “I love this pussy, you know that, honey? Could lick her up for days, mark it as mine. Bully her when you’ve been bad.”

“I haven’t been bad,” you protest highly, eyebrows knitted and pink lips bitten. “You really are scary.”

“But you like it, don’t you?” He places two decisive hands on your hips and thrusts upward, so hard your head almost hits the roof of the truck. “Like it when Daddy’s a l’il bit scary, sugar? Like it when he spanks you, plays around with you a tiny bit? Hmm?”

Ah, ah, ah, uh, mmmf are all the sounds your mouth can produce, drunk on his huge cock, fat and splitting you in half. Ye yea yeah yeah please yes Daddy love it, you moan, each whimper punctuated by the tip of his dick kissing your cervix. You do love it when he’s bossy, a bit scary. He knows so. He knows how wet you get when he’s got your chin in his hand, cheeks smushed together. How much you drip onto the sheets when you’re bent over, spread open, and he’s deciding which hole to fuck.

“Makin’ a beautiful mess on my dick, baby, come on, give it t’me. Give Daddy your cum, I’ll give you mine back, won’ I, princess?” His gruff voice is demanding and rambling and all at once, you’re beginning to convulse around him.

“Close,” you whimper, “gonna cum, Daddy—”

“Yeah, come on, that’s a good bunny,” he grunts as you begin to gush slick around him. “Daddy’s gonna give you the milk you’ve been wantin’.”

#joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller tlou #the last of us #tlou x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #pedro pascal x reader #tlou smut

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bonny-kookoo · 6 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐎𝐟𝐟-𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 | Hitskip

"Finding someone who can take care of what you love most when you're no longer able to is a final act of love- and not giving up."

Tags/Warnings: Police Officer!Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, Partners to lovers?, Alternate law-system/made up laws, crime, futuristic, sci-fi, body-modifications, Fluff, romance, Adult themes (sex, alcohol, mentions of drugs but no consumption), Comedy?, Angst, injury

Length: gonna be added later

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Despite basically living together, you and Jungkook aren't really all that close.

You've never went on vacation together or even on a day-trip, mainly due to insurance reasons considering you're owned by the police department, and not Jungkook himself. There's been too many accidents and problems in the past, forcing those rules onto handlers nowadays, and some might argue that it's for the better. The more professional you stay with your partner, the more professional you stay during work as well-

But Jungkook has worries.

Mostly because, while you'll probably be able to stay in service for another ten years maybe, he himself has to resign much sooner rather than later. He's got maybe a year left until his contract ends- and he's been told that to resign it, he will have to go through a rigorous process of evaluation again.

A process he most likely won't pass, due to his past injuries and resulting body mods to keep him mobile.

He's already looking for a potential new handler once he leaves- Taehyung being one of those he's got his eye on, though the new officer might not be the best fit for you, considering how he constantly seems caught off guard by your honestly very normal behavior as a police hybrid. You're not a pet down the line. You're not meant to be cuddly and cute and well behaved- you're meant to take down criminals, fight, and protect, most of all.

Seokjin is out of the question too, since he's got Yoongi- and he's still very much fit for work, despite his previously injured shoulder. He didn't need anything other than a regular operation- now he's back in service, more capable than ever.

Jimin doesn't want to do the handler training- he admits himself that he'd get too attached, and that would just harm his performance and put others in danger.

So who the hell is Jungkook supposed to choose? He doesn't want to just.. leave, and let you be alone until the department decides that you're unfit for anyone else, just for you to end up in a shelter where no one's gonna pick you up because who wants an aggressive former policedog hybrid?

"Jungkook?" You wonder, ripping him out of his thoughts as he looks at you, noticing your upper lip bleeding.

"What happened?" He instantly worries, hands carefully holding your face, thump inspecting your little cut that's bleeding. "Hm?" He asks after letting go to let you talk.

"I don' no'-" You fumble a little, trying not to move your lip too much. "I a'e an' use' a new s'oon" You stumble, and he gets up to grab a tissue for you to hold against it, before he walks towards the kitchen table to inspect the spoon you were talking about, running his finger over the edges-

finding a manufacturing error, tiny metal part not rounded properly, sticking out very sharply- so much so that it almost cuts him too.

"We'll wait a little, if it doesn't stop we'll see someone for it, okay?" He asks, moving the tissue a bit to inspect it- noticing that it's not that deep at all. The most challenging part will most likely rather be for you not to lick it constantly- that's gonna be a pain for him to control.

Well, maybe it was for the best that he didn't get the vacation with you.

He'll have to inspect all the cutlery now anyways, before he can let you eat again.

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Sometimes, Jungkook likes to dream.

What would a life be like if he just.. lived normally together with you? If he was just a regular part of this community, and not an officer feared for all the things people in the same uniform have done in the past?

Maybe you wouldn't be so scarred up from knifes and bullets having pierced your skin. Maybe he wouldn't have to wear his own bodymods- maybe you'd both just be normal, and unaware of the horrors human kind can make reality sometimes. But that's not your shared reality- yours is right now, as Jungkook keeps a hold on back straps of your bulletproof vest and harness you wear to hold you back, waiting for the signal to let you inside the house to search for drugs or other illegal substances. They're currently escorting multiple men out the pretty run-down place to make it safer- when he gets the command over his in-ear piece to let you in. "Alright, let's go." He tells you, letting you go so you can immediately run into the house, checking the living room first.

Your hands move the pillows on the couch, eyes frantically moving in concentration, ears moving and tail wagging. He knows it's actually not from excitement, but to 'move' scent around that might've settled somewhere so you can notice it better. Once you catch something, for example, your tail stills as to not disturb the trail, and not interrupt any traces by moving them around.

You're currently on your hands and knees looking beneath the coffee table, before you move again to walk into the next room- the connecting kitchen on the other side of the main entrance hall. It's cluttered, and Jungkook has to watch out as to not slip on any of the trash, gun still drawn in his hand as a safety precaution, just in case. You're tripping a little here and there, looking and sniffing around, tail going left to right at a rapid pace.

You leave the kitchen, make your way upstairs to the bedrooms, entering one of them on the left side. Jungkook follows, notices how your tail suddenly stops, a clear sign that you've picked up something specific. You're supposed to be searching for drugs right now- and so Jungkook watches now with his gun lowered as you look around more specifically, walking one step, evaluating, walking another step, repeat. You're reacting to something, and he wonders what it might be.

Unbeknownst to him, you found something entirely other than drugs.

You're suddenly sitting down in front of a closet, looking over your shoulder towards him, who walks closer to you now, running a hand over your head. "Good job. What's in here?" He asks, pointing before opening, and you reach out to prevent him from doing so.

"RDX." You tell him, and his eyes widen as he helps you up and instantly away from the closet.

"We found something." Jungkook tells into his ear piece, earning the response to clarify what exactly was found. "Highly possibly explosives. Hybrid indication in the upstairs guest bedroom, inside a blue wooden closet." He explains, receiving the response that a bomb squat has been notified to take care of the potential issue, and to get out of the house immediately. Jungkook does just that, taking your hand to rush out, coworkers outside already having evacuated the immediate area.

"Jungkook?" You wonder, and he instantly turns to check up on you, remembering that he did not give you appropriate positive reinforcement either due to the sudden tension of the situation. It's then that you hold out your hand, drop of blood running down from it. "…can I have a plaster maybe?" You ask meekly, and he instantly holds your hand to take a look at the injury.

"How'd that happen pup-.." He somewhat swallows the petname down, hissing a bit at the nasty wound. "Can you move your fingers?" He asks, and you nod, curling them each to show it to him.

"I didn't cut myself- I think my hand got caught on something maybe when I searched the kitchen.." You mumble, ears lowered and tail between your legs.

"Does it hurt?" He asks, well aware that it has to- skin already red and bruised around the cut skin. You shake your head, but once look at him makes your eyes tear up and bottom lip tremble.

Well, down the line, you're also just a living being with thoughts and feelings, and this is also a side that he's come to know about you. The more.. private one, the one that's usually only presented when you're not on duty.

"Alright come on, then, let's wrap something around that for now, okay?" He soothes, smiling softly as he leads you back to the car.

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Considering how fearless you are in the eye of danger, running after any criminal no matter what without any hesitation, Jungkook can't help but laugh a little as you sniffle into his chest, hiding in his sweater now while your wound is getting stitched in the emergency room. You're quietly whimpering while he runs a hand over your back, nurse smiling amused at the whole scene. "Almost done." He soothes, watching how the nurse finishes up the last few stitches before she cleans it again, and wraps it up.

"Alright, there we go!" The nurse says. "Looks like she's gonna get some time off." She smiles, unable to hide her motherly instincts as you look at her with tearful eyes now, pulling your hand towards you now as if to hide it. "It should be fine in a few days, but since it's in a spot that has a lot of movement, I'd say at least for the rest of the week she shouldn't move it too much." She tells Jungkook, who nods.

Back home, and with the knowledge that you'll truly have time off for an entire week, the actual challenges begin. You're not supposed to move your hand, and you know that- but that doesn't mean you won't try and still use it anyways. You're currently climbing on the kitchen counter, attempting to raid the upper cabinet where Jungkook keeps your favorite snacks- but he's quick in his reflexes, tugging you back and putting you down onto the floor again with your feet.

He can't even really be mad at you.

You're not used to being 'home' like this. You don't know the rules, or general manners- that's something you've not been taught, because as a police hybrid, it's not necessary. One of the main reasons why most hybrids in jobs like yours never get to live in a normal home after they get too old or injured to continue their service.

Most stay at special housings, group homes. Jungkook already dreads the day you'll surely have to live in one as well.

"You're not mute. You can ask if you want something." He chuckles, before he's caught off guard when you hug him. Wordlessly so.

You don't talk much, and if you do, mostly only with him. It's always been like that- unfamiliar people make you anxious and quiet you down.

But right now, you're quiet with him too. He can sense there's something you want to ask- but you don't. You just nod, and apologize quietly, before you leave the kitchen to go into your room- leaving the door ajar however. He slowly walks towards it, knocks on it to ask for entrance- and your ears turn towards him at that. "Can I come in?" He wonders, and you nod.

Jungkook isn't in your room very often. He wants to give you as much privacy as he can, treats you like a person and not just a pet or animal. He also wants to keep things professional and has to keep you at a distance at all times, too. It's a tough challenge.

"You seem to have something on your mind." He says, sitting down next to you on the bed, and you just shrug, pulling up your legs to hug them. "Wanna talk about it?" Jungkook asks, and you shake your head.

He respects that. Sometimes, there's just things you want to keep to yourself- just like himself.

"Jungkook?" You ask suddenly, quietly, and he instantly turns towards you to make sure you know you've got his attention. "Why.. didn't you tell me you'll leave soon?" You ask, and his heart drops.

"I don't even know that yet." He tries to justify, but it's clear that it doesn't help.

"But you're pretty sure." You scold him. "I overheard you talking to Taehyung.. you wanna get rid of me before you'll quit." You huff, and he shakes his head at that.

"That's not true." He denies. "I'm not getting rid of you. I just don't want you to end up alone." He sighs.

"..am I not alone already?" You mumble almost incoherently- but he hears it. "I wanna sleep now." You tell him before he can ask you what you mean-

And your statement is a clear way to tell him that you wouldn't even answer him if he asked anyway.

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It's just patrol. Nothing big.

And yet, the silence inside the car is suffocating him.

You're normally always pretty quiet- but you do chat around whenever there's nothing much going on, or if you're on simple patrol duty like today. However, ever since that moment a few days ago in your room, you've been distant- trying to detach yourself from him, it feels like.

He's never noticed just how close you've gotten until now that you've pulled yourselves apart from one another.

"Man, he's speeding." Jungkook mumbles from the driver's seat, while you perk up just to look up front to see what he's seeing.

The guy is in fact speeding, even if it's not too much. But what's more obvious is the swaying- he's missing a taillight already, and the car clearly has issues staying properly on the road. And when he runs over a stop-sign, Jungkook sighs, and turns on his lights to signal the driver to pull over- and the car does so, almost slamming into a street sign as it clumsily parks at the side of the road.

"I'll be right back." He says, before he steps out, leaving you in the trunk area that's cut off from the backseats by metal bars to keep you safe from people he potentially needs to transport. "Stay alert." Is the last thing he says, before he walks towards the car for a routine check.

Probably a drunk driver. Maybe drugs involved- you'll most likely be taken out for a search in a few minutes, and then you'll clock out an hour later.

But then you hear commotion- Jungkook shouting, and you instantly go into high alert, looking through the metal bars to see him arguing with a tall man who's clearly agitated about something. And then, everything happens so fast that you can't even process it quick enough.

A shot, clear as day, Jungkook running towards the car, opening the trunk where you're in, before he barks out for you to get him- the man running off into a field that you instantly follow after.

You can't really think much about what might've happened where the cars are still parked. You've got tunnel vision, legs keeping you running as fast as you can as you chase the man through the field, trying hard not to lose sight of him.

Unaware that the man is still armed.

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"Did she get him?" Jungkook asks in the hospital, as Seokjin arrives to pick him up. The shot had grazed his body mods and made him lose balance and feeling in his legs and hands- so it had to be fixed in a minor surgery, leaving him mostly unconscious for the past two days.

"Yeah- he was arrested, is awaiting trial. Was terribly wasted and on meth." He offers dryly, causing Jungkook to become suspicious.

"Did.. she sleep at the station while I was gone?" He asks, but he doesn't get an answer until he pulls his coworkers shoulder to make him face him. "Where is she?" He asks, and Seokjin sighs.

"Just focus on healing right now, kook-" He starts, but Jungkook shakes his head, face angry.

"I'm perfectly fine, now answer me." He demands. "Where is she?"

"She got hurt." Seokjin admits. "She's.. in hospital right now, but she'll be fine."

"What happened?" He urges once again. "Seokjin, what fucking happened?" He asks, but the officer refuses to answer, not until Jungkook speaks up again in the car later, on the way to his house. "How bad?" He lowly questions.

"They're not sure." Jin finally comes clean. "If you want, you can see her once she's allowed to have visitors. I can offer you to review the body cam footage too, just to.. prepare yourself." He sighs.

"I should've never let her out." Jungkook runs a hand over his face. "I should've waited for backup-"

"There's no use in that now." Jin offers. "Things happen. It was a stressful situation, you couldn't have known. Things quite literally happened in the span of minutes." He reassures him. "And she did the same. She thought about getting the job done, and she did." He says.

"..so she did catch him?" Jungkook asks.

"Absolutely. Held him down.. well, despite her situation." Jin nods almost proudly. "Jungkook." He takes a deep breath, sighs as he parks in front of the younger man's house. "She.. might not return into service. "

Jungkook doesn't move, eyes becoming distant. He's not sure how bad it must be- but he can assume it by this sentence alone. If you're not returning to service, that the damage done must've been severe.

"Keep your head up, robo-cop." Seokjin pats Jungkook's back- not too much, since he's still recovering. "She's a tough cookie. She'll make it." He tries to reassure.

And Jungkook nods-

hoping he's gonna be right about that.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year

Text

picket fence | i. sae

✭ tags ; fem + afab!reader (sae jokingly refers to you as unladylike), established relationship, sae is whipped and bad at feelings, reader is very secure in themselves, p in v, very vanilla, 18+

✭ wc ; 2.2k

✭ a/n ; experiencing immense shame. will not be taking questions at this time

✭ synopsis ; you fail to seduce you boyfriend. he wonders if you’ll ever get that you dont need to try

"I'm trying to seduce you," Your voice is sarcastic as it is genuine in equal parts. Sae's expression remains impassive "Can't you at least pretend to care?"

"No," He replies back. You pout and cross your arms. Fake demure abandoned for your difficult personality, you flounce into the living room with a sigh. You're wearing lingerie. It's all lace and sheer and glittery. Not simple to put on from what he can see.

There's garters and stockings visible to the eye and you went as far as wearing the jersey he got for you in his size - cut in half to show you off. It's an admirable attempt, at least. You give him a twirl, gesturing to yourself and then groaning at his disinterest.

He smiles, corners of his lips twitched upwards as he glances at you then turns back to the T.V.

"I can't even get a compliment? Not even a fake one? C'mon,"

He gives you a look, wondering why you've even asked. You sigh, throwing your hands up in the air.

"Most guys would be thrilled by this. Do you know that? I bet Shidou would be,"

"Shidou would fuck anything warm with a hole." He says sarcastically. Even in your annoyance, you laugh. Sae smiles to himself.

"I bet Rin would give me attention," You whine.Sae looks at you seriously.

"Don't joke about fucking my little brother,"

"Who said I was joking, dickwad," You spit, your personality returning to you in the blink of an eye. Sae gives you an unimpressed look "Whatever. I'm gonna go take pictures."

"Pictures?" He inquires. You shoot him a look of annoyance.

"Yes, pictures, Itoshi-san," You say, biting and frustrated - punctuating the honorific "Pictures."

"For who?"

You frown at him.

"Well, certainly not for you." You reply, hand on your hip "For me and whatever friend will hype me up. My private story, who knows, really."

"Don't do that."

"I put too much effort into this. I'm getting some pictures in it." There's a tinge of disappointment at the end of your words, followed by the utmost sincerity "I won't send it to any dudes so you can relax or whatever. I get to pick dinner."

"Hey," He calls, then huffs as you give him a look "Stop. Come here."

Sae watches you tilt your head, confused. You're annoyed, but not upset enough to make it a big deal. You always make it clear that you expect little from Sae. The longer he dates you, the more it annoys him. It's contradictory in it's own right, hypocritical to an extent.

But he doesn't particularly care as you stand next to him, arms crossed over your chest.

"Hm?"

He reaches his hands towards you, fidgeting with the strap of your garters. The warmth of your skin radiates off of you. You smell nice, like something fruity and floral - and you're all visibly done up. He only notices when there's this much space between you.

"How much was this?"

"Expensive," You reply, simple and indifferent "I bought it."

"For me?"

Where he's expecting your usual self (sarcastic, unladylike, rude), you slink back at the question. You're embarrassed, tucking your chin and trying desperately to get a read on his feelings. A sensation he can't describe washes over him, half-way between guilt and amusement.

"Yeah. Who else?"

"Rin," He replies back easily, and you sigh.

"I'm sorry. Just jokes," You say, light-hearted. Gentle in your own way "Are you done? Or are you asking so you can pay me back since you foiled my plans?"

"You look good." He murmurs gently. Softly, quietly, with as little sarcasm as he can manage. It's uncomfortable. The words don't fit in his mouth the way they should. It's not like he's thinking anything else. You do look good. And he does know, that most guys would be thrilled if their partners put on such a get-up for them.

Sae knows it almost intimately that half of his meathead teammates would cream their pants looking at you. Because he's not blind or stupid. It doesn't mean anything to Sae except for when it does.

"You don't have to try so hard," You offer again. That's so like you. No expectations, always prepared to give him ease where he doesn't deserve it "'s fine. Thanks for saying that. I'll go change and we can watch something."

"No," He says, shaking his head. A little gentler this time "C'mere."

A flush spreads over you. He invites you into the bed and you crawl towards him, settled in his lap. He doesn't know what to do with himself.

It's not like he doesn't like it. That he's unaffected. It's just not the clothing itself. Not the lingerie or the jersey which construct themselves as just objects. Sae's desires are the way you linger in the doorway of your shared bedroom - the twirling and posing and dramatics.

The soft laughter and the brave face you put on to walk into the door. The lingerie is pretty. It cups you, hugs you in the right places. Dips between the curve of your breasts and squeezes.

None of that is particular important. Right now, you've let yourself settle in his lap. Your arms around his frame, encircled around his neck and forgiving. He can feel the heat of your core over his cock, can feel the way your eyes flit to his lips up to his gaze. Sae secures his hands on your waist, fingers hooking into a strap and snapping it against your skin.

He kisses your jaw, all the way up until you your lips hover near each other. You press your lips to his, hands brushing the nape of his hair. He deepens it just for you.

"What was'at for? You wanna have sex?"

He laughs at you. Stupid. Crass. Vulgar.

Cute.

"Do you think I'm a eunuch?"

"You act like one sometimes." You admit, with a heaving sigh - brushing your nose against his "Dunno. I feel like I want you more than you want me."

"You're really stupid."

"Sae," You pout like you don't think you'll get your way, even though you always do "You suck."

He's honest with himself for a minute "I know."

"I still love you, though."

"I love you too." He means it. For some reason it's not as hard to say. Love is an objective truth. He can say it reasonably and not flinch. Everything else is hard. You rub your cheek against his, an affectionate and overgrown housecat in his bed.

"Mm," You cling to him, hugging him to your chest "But do you like me?"

"Sometimes."

"So mean." You say with no malice "I don't wanna do any work."

"'s fine. C'mere."

Sae helps as he flips over, until you're onto your back. There's a dull glow from the T.V. illuminating you. Rain pours outside, dark and cloudy. You bat your lashes as Sae hovers over you. His hand grasps your hip, sliding up to your knee as you wrap your legs all the way around his waist.

He kisses you tenderly. You kiss back with a mewl, an innocent and fragile noise that he never gets sick of. It's this part of you Sae likes, this part that makes you want him. Despite all of your grievances and annoyance - all your unpleasantires, you are resilient in a way he has a hard time understanding.

You’re patient, despite him. Always meeting him where he is but making him want to give you more, give you everything. There's plenty of attractive people in the world. None could be you, his home-grown and lovesick toothache.

It makes him feel impatient. Breaks his cool bravado down so slightly. He kisses you again, all deep tongue until you whimper. Then he drags his lips down your neck, teeth grazing your pulse as you hiccup.

You break apart so Sae can undress you. Wiggling out of the jersey, lettng him unclasp your bra. He feels his stomach twist. You're enticing. The gentle heave of your chest, goosebumps on your skin. Sae lets his mouth speak for him, laving his tongue over each of your tits. Toying with your nipples until you gasp and roll your hips up against him.

"Sae," You moan. Sae grunts in the back of his throat "Feels good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

The posession that settles in him his strange. He's never felt for anything in this way. Soccer is different. It can't leave. If he works hard enough, he can accomplish his goals.

The idea of you going somewhere Sae can't see you is troubling. Anyone seeing you like this - falling apart as arousal sparks in your gut is agitating. Sae wants you like this. Wants you to fall apart underneath him, because of him. It's all he can do to tell you the extent of his feelings.

He touches you until you're begging him to hurry it up, too much pleasure in your voice to be intimidating. He listens. Continues to toy with your chest as he nudges your legs apart, a hand in your panties to feel you.

You're dripping, keening as he rubs your pussy. He lets himself in slowly, rubbing your clit with his middle finger before angling himself lower. Normally there's more of a build-up. Sae works all of you open slowly. With his tongue or his fingers or his mouth.

He likes seeing you need it. What part of him that speaks too, he doesn't examine. Today, it feels like the roles are inverse. He can feel all the blood rushing to his cock. His thoughts bombarded with you and all your little misgivings.

Today it's more impatient. He finger fucks you open with an end goal clear in his mind. You spread your legs a little, and Sae pushes his middle finger into in one go. There's little resistance. You're wet and welcoming, sighing so sweet in his ear until it's easy to go in and out.

"C'mon and fuck me." You open your eyes to ask him, glassy and desperate "Please?"

"You're so impatient."

"Wanna know you want me."

"You should already know that."

Sae pulls away from you, standing on his knees.

"Open your mouth."

You nod. He lets his middle fingers rest on your tongue as he uses his free hand to position you. His cock rests against your bare cunt. He pushes between your folds, head nudging your clit. You feel good. Always perfect. Always wet and hot and inviting.

He ruts his hips. You whine for him, sounding so need. A staccato to your moans that makes him ache.

"You should know how much I want you, shouldn't you," He says, a hint of frustration in it "Everybody but you seems to."

Sae pushes into you with a heave. You're tight. Warm and wet and slick - made for him just like he always knew. He groans a little as he pushes the tip in. His hands come up under your knees, folding you in half. He waits for you to stop squirming, rocking himself slowly so that it's easier to fit all of him inside.

With a little effort, he manages. His pelvis up against yours, he gets himself close to you. You moan and he gives you look.

"You don't have to do anything special for me to fuck you like this," He says. It's easy to be honest now "Anything you do is enough."

"I just wanna look nice for you." You complain - so breathless and so struck with want Sae can't even be upset.

"I know. And you do," He grunts as he pulls his hips back, pulling out before pushing all the way back in "I don't hate it. Just for me, okay?"

"You're so bad at bein' honest."

"I'm being honest right now," Sae fucks you hard. A punctuated thrust, hand snaked between your bodies to toy with your clit "Read between the lines."

If Sae were better he'd say what he thinks. That it doesn't matter what clothes you have on because he wants to fuck you within an inch of your life for much less. You do look good in the lingerie, too good, and if you send any pictures to anyone - he's going to block them. One of these days he'll be courageous and make you cum while you wear his jersery. Bounce you on his cock and whisper about what you make him do. It’s unlike him. He doesn’t get it either.

He can't verbalize all of that well, so he takes to what he knows. Takes to using his hips to fuck you hard and fast, rhythmic and deep so you can't keep up. He hopes all of it comes through, that short whispers of “fuck, that's it” do enough to get it to come across.

Sae looks on as your face twists with pleasure. Your walls twitch and you shiver in his arms, nails in his bicep as he plays with you. Fucks you to his hearts content. Your legs over his shoulder, toes curled. Your muscles tense.

"Sae, g-gonna, I'm gonna c-cum."

"Cum for me." He whispers (begs if you listen closely) and you do. You're vibrant and wanton and you've still got your stockings on as your pussy pulses needlessly, arousal dripping down his length and onto the sheets underneath you. Leaving a mess of you on the sheets.

He's not done with you yet, but he slows so you can catch your breath. You open your eyes and giggle.

"You make me feel so good." You praise, easily and naturally like you do everything else. He groans internally, at a loss for words.

Instead of saying anything, he presses a kiss to your hairline and promises.

"Gonna keep going till you get it."

You grin.

"I’ll hold you to that, sir.”

#writing tag #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae smut #bluelock x reader #bluelock smut #wow i am immensely ashamed

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ncteez · 1 year

Text

Unlikely Scenario (k.m)

You’re in love with the way your boyfriend is nothing but loving and sweet outside of the bedroom. You love even more the way he falls into the persona of a rough and aggressive dominant in the bedroom– but what if you also want to love your boyfriend when he’s the one on his knees?

or the one where you try to push your dominant boyfriend into submission and it’s a struggle. it kind of works, then again, it kind of doesn’t.

ao3 | m.list | reblog to give mingyu a boner

minors dni!!

WORDCOUNT― 6k

PAIRING― mingyu x afab reader

CONTENT― established relationship, submissive girlfriend trying to pull the whole “oh how the tables have tabled” on her dominant boyfriend

WARNINGS ― its mingyu so there’s some mentions to how huge this big ass bitch is compared to you (size kink in the form of height). If that pulls you out of the story, i’m sorry.

NOTE― ok so this started as something, then as i wrote it..it became something else. yikes. anyway, i need him so bad u don’t understand. this fic is dedicated to me because I deserve it. also, i cannot even see straight after writing this, can’t believe i did this in a mere two hour time frame…jfc. not proof read

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― BIG DICK MINGYU, pussy eating/face riding, masturbation, whining and whimpering, hair pulling, begging, teasing, cock warming, pussy drunk mingyu, floor sex, sitting on his lap position, crying, unprotected sex, overstimulation, he kind of takes control back but it’s not in a dominant way– it’s more of an im so desperate to fuck you, i can’t stop.

There are days where you look at your boyfriend and think, yeah, he’s very clearly a soft and adoring man. One who is endearing, with his glistening eyes in the grocery store and tired yawns when he gets home from work. On those days, you find yourself melting into his rough palms, teasing and swaying you further from the release you both needed.

Then there are days like today, where you look at him and he looks just like he does on any other day, but you want to see those tired droopy eyes glistening in a different way. Shining in the way he makes yours do when he’s hovering over you. Never have you even suggested this to him out of the three years you’ve been dating. You love being manhandled, degraded, teased, and he loved doing it to you.

The dynamic works perfectly, and of course, it’s not always like this in the bedroom. Sometimes he isn’t too keen on edging you for hours with an evil smirk, sometimes he just wants to love on you and be close to you.

And on a day like today, you don’t want any of that. You don’t want his fingers prying you open and pressing into you until you’re soaking one smiling boyfriend and probably the wall behind him, no, no. You don’t want to hear the sounds of his palms slapping your skin, or his teeth grazing your most sensitive areas. No!

You’re so in your head about it today, staring at your boyfriend like an animal hunting for prey. He’s just sitting there, unknowing, giggling at stupid memes the two of you have seen four thousand times by now, a talk show muffled behind his laughs because you’re really more focused on him than anything else. It’s a sunday afternoon after all, and today is the only free day the two of you have when you’re not both exhausted from the week’s events.

You wonder if he will be into it and if you’ll even have the ability not to melt into his grasp the second he shifts into his dominant self. You wonder more though, what it’ll be like to have this big ass man shivering at every touch you give to him, begging for more, whimpering.

“Are you just gonna look at memes all day?” You ask, making your way into the living room to claim both the couch and Mingyu as your seat.

“Probably, why?” He starts, leaning back against the cushions to make room for your legs on his lap. “You wanna do something today?”

“Hm, not really,” You shrug as you get comfortable, reaching an arm up to twirl his messy hair in your fingers. He hasn’t even brushed it today, but you love the way it looks on him. “I just wanted to ask.”

Mingyu turns his head slightly, narrowing his eyes at you with a knowing look. You never act this nonchalant if you don’t want something. You never play with his hair like this unless you’re both cuddled up in bed or you clearly want him to read your mind.

“What’re you getting at?” He asks in a playful rasp, tilting into the feeling of your fingers in his hair as if he’s a puppy about to start wagging his tail. “You want something, and I’m not about to start making guesses without a hint.”

“You’re right, I do want something.” You smile, tugging slightly at a stand of his hair and looking away from him. “But I’m not gonna tell you what it is. You’ll just have to find out when it happens.”

He huffs in response to that before letting out a breathy chuckle. You wonder if he thinks you’re just trying to be a brat today. Maybe he thinks you’re gonna be annoying so that he will wrestle you down on the bed and put you in your place. That’s not it though. All you need is to get a reaction out of him in order to have him retiring with you to the bedroom sooner rather than later.

It didn’t take long to do that, as expected. It’s barely three in the afternoon by the time he’s fighting off a semi-hard on because you won’t stop pressing his buttons.

From complementing his arms in the most annoying way to “accidentally” grabbing his bulge without warning. You know, the whole blatantly grabbing it then looking him in the eye with a small “Oops, thought it was something else.”

He gritted his teeth through it for a little while before throwing his own form of teasing back at you. It all came to a sudden stop when he pressed you against the wall, effectively leaving no space for you to run and staring you straight in the eye. “If you want me to fuck you, you can just say that.”

Of course you could have just said that, but it’s not what you want. You want to fuck him.

So, now here the two of you are, you’re against the wall and he’s looming over you with all the power in the world. He knows how to end the teasing, he knows how to give you what you’d normally want, but he doesn’t know that maybe you can flip the tables on him.

He’s taken aback when you don’t look away from him, and even more appalled at the smirk you throw his way. Already, that switch in his head went off and you can tell that at any moment he’s going to drag you into the bedroom and give you what he thinks you want.

“You think you know everything,” You smirk, throwing your hand forward and grabbing his growing length through his loose sweatpants. He winces at the feeling, arching into it almost. “If you want to fuck me, you could just say that.” You continue.

You mimic his words from before, a small power play to assert some type of dominance over him. Even in the position you’re in right now, even if you know all he needs to do is throw his hand around your throat to put an end to your plan, you’re still going to try.

“Oh?” He quirks his brow, eyes trailing from your eyes to your middle, then back up. “You think I’m that desperate?”

You smile with a short nod, squeezing him in your palm to see if he reacts. He does, but you don’t think he notices. You can see that little curl on his lip twitch, with his confident smile never truly falling.

“That hurts me,” You fake-whine, now palming him to urge his cock to grow to its full length. “You don’t want me as badly as I want you?”

He pauses, closing one eye as if to think with the correct side of his brain and try to ignore the fact that you always know exactly how to jerk him off.

“you know that’s not it.” He falters with a gentle voice, giving into your false search of reassurance and once again arching into your hand.

You can feel the press against your palm, he’s getting there.

“Then why don’t you ever show it?” You press on, prodding his brain to continue to take his dominant confidence down level by level. “I’m always the one having to ask for it.”

Mingyu doesn’t pause this time, his arm at the side of your head lowers to your cheek and caresses you there.

“I love when you beg for me though,” He starts, leaning in closer to ghost his lips over yours. “You love it too.”

You can practically feel him not back down, even though he clearly isn’t aware of what you’re trying to do here. A wave of confidence flows through you too, and you refuse to back down this time as well. Your hand remains, pumping him through his pants and lurching forward against his lips.

He sighs into it, the hand caressing your cheek goes to the back of your neck as he, as always, dominates the kiss and angles your head in any way he deems fit.

When you don’t react the way you normally do though, he appears to put even more effort into it. Kissing you in all the ways that would usually make you moan. Until he’s losing breath and trailing down your neck.

At that point, you slide away from him leaving that small space between him and the wall and abandoning his now fully hard length, pulsing with no friction under his pants.

He stares at you as you back away from him with a smile, motioning for him to follow you. When he does, it’s another small victory in your head. You’re the one leading him this time, he’s the one chasing.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asks as he follows you through the hallway, already untying the drawstring of his sweats and slipping them off by the time he gets to the door of your shared room.

You don’t answer, and for some reason that’s got him thinking too hard about what’s happening right now. Never once have you rejected his advances. By now, you’d be grinding against his thigh and taking whatever you can from him against that wall in the other room. Instead, you’re stepping into the bedroom and not removing a single article of clothing.

He watches you with curiosity, scratching the back of his neck before lifting his shirt off of him as well. If he wanted to, he could walk up to you and have you right here right now, but he can admit to being genuinely curious as to what the fuck you’re trying to pull on him today.

“C’mere,” You say, standing against the bed and ignoring the fact that he’s so big. From his biceps to his shoulders, to his cock.

When he walks up to you, he thinks he’s going to be able to simply press you back to have you falling onto the bed and spreading your legs for him, but he’s shocked when he gets to you and you’re the one managing to spin him around and harshly shove him down on the bed.

He stares up at you in shock when you straddle him with a smile, and he can’t help but let out a sigh when you plant yourself directly on his length without so much as adjusting it.

“No, really,” He starts with another wince, hands shooting to your waist to stop any looming assumption that you’re about to start grinding against him. “What are you trying to do?”

You laugh, reaching down and pulling his cock into position, flat against his pelvis. You raise the band of his underwear and easily snap it back down onto his length, the head of it peeking out now. He seethes out a pained sound when he feels the snap, his shoulders tensing at it before he looks at you for an answer.

“I’m trying to see how much you want me.” You say casually, waving your hand as if it’s obvious. “I’d like to know why you’re fighting it. Unless you really don’t want me as much as I want you?”

He furrows his brows at you and swallows around his words. This isn’t what he’s used to, but he does hold a particular type of love when it comes to giving you what you deserve. He thinks briefly back to all of the times you’ve been shaking, begging, and crying to have him. Is that…is that what you’re trying to make him do?

His face feels hot as a blush creeps up on him. He’s not used to blushing in bed, in fact, the last time he blushed around you was when you had sex for the first time and you both expected the other to be as vanilla as possible.

“Oh–” Mingyu starts, his hands on your waist gripping a bit harder when you instantly cut off his words with a harsh grind.

You’re not going to argue about it. You’re going to have him fucking writhing if it’s the last thing you do. You grind harder when he doesn’t react past trying to stop your hips with his grip, still he hasn’t continued his train of thought, so you think you’ve got it in the bag by this point.

“Jesus,” He groans when you continue even as he tries to stop you. The fabric of his underwear rubs harshly against the underside of his cock so aggressively that it’s starting to burn. “Okay, fuck. Okay.” He tries to get you to relent, but you don’t.

The immediate overstimulation is a lot to take for someone like him. Usually he gives himself just the right amount, never too little, never too much, because usually he’s the one in control. He’s realizing now though, how hard it is to give in to the lack of control. It’s not that he isn’t enjoying it, it’s just that like, you know, he likes overstimulating you.

“That’s right,” You comment with a smile, sighing out at the feeling of rubbing yourself against his length. “Be quiet unless you don’t want this.”

He is still just staring at you in awe, the searing pain of fabric-rash nearly throwing him over edge and making him want to put a stop to it almost instantly. But then he remembers how often he’s used your clothing against you. Now, looking up at you as you grind against him, he can’t help but think you’ve never looked more sexy than you do right now, using his own tactics against him.

Perched up there, looking down at him with what he assumes is the same type of smirk he gives to you, he gives in easier than he ever expected he would. Already, he finds himself wanting to ask you to take his briefs off, already he wants to feel if you’re wet because of this. Already. Goddamn, that was fast and it’s not looking promising for him.

“You look like you want to say something,” You say, grinding back and resting your hips for a moment. You don’t spare him though, as you move your hand to resume the stimulation against him. “Go on, tell me what you wanna say.”

He rolls his eyes at you, laughing internally at how good you already seem to be at his job. He doesn’t mind it anymore though, interested in seeing how you intend to go about all of this. Really though, you could have just said “Hey, let me have control this time.”

But no. He should know you don’t work that way. You never ask for things outside of the bedroom, you simply demand them. He really should’ve known that you’d want to do this at some point.

“Nothing to say?” You ask, pulling off of him and standing to your feet. “I’ll take it that by the look on your face, you know exactly what’s happening?”

He nods, watching you stand and take your own pants off. There, he can already see the wet seeping through your panties. He nearly lets out a groan at it, because you somehow appear to be more wet than usual just by putting him in his place.

“Get up.” You demand, now having him in the head space you want him in.

He listens without a single protest, scooting forward and standing up in front of you.

For a moment, when you look up at him, you nearly buckle and want to beg him to take back his control. So tall, so broad. That blown out look in his eye always gets you, but at this moment he’s the one that is waiting for direction and it feels so fucking surreal to have him looming without intent, waiting, anticipating what you’re going to do. It’s intimidating to say the least, but you press on.

“Now–” You pause, swallowing down that last bit of submission in your head and looking up at him. “Get down.”

He skews his head, hooding his eyes as he does just that. Slowly but surely lowering himself onto his knees in front of you.

You look down at him this time, feeling much more confident when you see him like this rather than him towering over you. The confidence comes right back as you shuffle closer to him. He scoots back as you get closer, up until his feet are nearly under the bed and his back is against it.

Somehow, he looks obedient down there. You’ve never seen him look like this, with his eyes staring up at you, hair in his face and eyes sparkling much like they do when he tries to find the perfect tomato to buy and bring home.

Mingyu opts to stay silent for now, watching and waiting to see how you plan to take what you want. But that silence is short lived when you lift your leg onto the bed and hover your clothed pussy in front of his face.

Already he’s reaching out with a proud moan and trying to grip your ass to pull you against his face, but you resist the pull.

“Hands to yourself,” you chuckle out, swirling your hips in front of his face. “I’ll tell you when you can touch it.”

He nearly groans in protest, but doesn’t. He lowers his hands and watches you dance what he wants in front of him. Honestly, he can smell your arousal and it’s already driving him insane.

“Is this what you want?” You ask him, pulling at your panties until they shift between your folds, exposing all but your entrance and clit to him.

Mingyu can barely respond, suddenly spiraling into a world of arousal at the way you dangle yourself in front of him. He swallows hard around a lump in his throat, tongue falling out of his mouth for you to sit on without so much as an ounce of shame.

“Hm?” You urge out an answer when you reach down to grab his hair and force his eyes up to you rather than your pussy.

His whispered “yes” comes out in a rasp after he pulls his tongue back into his mouth, and while you wanted a please at the end of his admittance, you take what you can get.

You adjust your panties back to their rightful position before sitting the expanse of your pussy against his chin while keeping his head tilted back by the hair. He nuzzles slightly, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of you like the animal that he is.

“You act desperate to taste but you aren’t admitting it.” You laugh, guiding his head against your panties and fawning over the way he presses his nose into it without shame.

Mingyu admits it with his tongue falling back out of his mouth again. Flattening it against the wet fabric and not moving it even an inch just to taste the stale arousal you managed to gather for him to swallow up.

The warmth of his tongue is enough to have you gripping his hair again, pulling his head back and away from your core just to look at him. His dominant tongue strains to reach out and continue tasting you though, to the point that it’s almost embarrassing to see him act like this.

“God, I didn’t think you could be so pathetic so fast,” You comment, pressing him back to your core and grinding up against his tongue.

You can feel him flex the muscle, stiffening it to press the seat of your panties into your pulsing hole, and releasing a small moan at the way your leg shakes a bit at it. Even when he’s down here, face full of pussy, you’re still reacting like you would if he were the one in control. He might love it a bit too much. Even if he looks pathetic down here, he’s only pathetic for this pussy.

“Mhm,” he hums against you, leaning more into the pussy in front of him rather than the harsh grip your hands have in his hair. “If you’d just let me–”

You’re taken aback when he goes against your demands of keeping his hands to himself. You can feel one of his hands shoot to your ass and press you more against his mouth, and his other hand hooking your panties to the side.

Barely able to react before a moan leaves your lips, he buries his tongue into your with a pointed hum against you. You can feel the vibrations flow through you to the point that you can’t help but grind. Fucking yourself against his tongue and then pulling back in a way to swirl your clit around the muscle.

His remains focused on the act as he closes his eyes. He even finds himself satisfied by the way you move on him that he releases the grip on your ass, trusting you to take what you need from him yourself, and instantly shoots that same hand between his legs. Not offering too much to himself, but enough to have him moaning the way you clearly want him to.

That, he does. Pressing his palm against his cock and furrowing his brows as his tongue tastes and licks up every inch of you. The way you grind is heavenly and the way your fingers tug at his hair only heightens the pleasure for him when he finally groans into you.

The sound alone is enough to have you grinding harder, your thrusts becoming shorter just to feel his tongue repeatedly hit the same spot on your clit as you do it. You can see his lips curl into a smile around his tongue and you roll your eyes at the image of his unwavering confidence. Trying still to dominate even while on his knees.

That’s when you take note of his moving shoulder, hidden from under your hiked up leg.

“So that’s why you seem so content,” You comment, halting your grinds. “Focus on me, get your hand off of your dick.”

His eyes shoot open, realizing he’s been caught and instantly follows your demands. He follows them so much actually, that he does focus entirely on you. Your voice speaking to him that way, denying him of his own pleasure? Fucking amazing, that’s what you are.

Both hands shoot back to your ass as he practically hugs you in order to plant your pussy directly back onto his face. And just like that, he willingly and intentionally smothers himself in your scent. He easily nuzzles his nose against your clit while swirling his tongue around your hole, poking and prodding it while holding your hips in place.

He can feel your hands in his hair grip tighter, and then your legs shake and you try to pull away. But no, not this time. He will let you take control after this. He promises himself, and promises you with a desperate moan to keep you planted on him.

The moan wasn’t an act, he actually is desperate to get you to come this way, nearly purring into you when he pulls his head back just a bit to lick up and down your slit at an aggressive and animalistic pace.

“Taste so good,” He groans, allowing himself to spiral as he laps away at you. “More.”

You’ve gone silent save from constant sighs of pleasure and hums. More? He wants more?

Already loving the way he manages to still be dominant while on his knees, you do the opposite to gain control again. You can tell he’s incredibly turned on, so now is the perfect time to pull that control back. You slide off of his face, pulling your leg back and watching the whole time as his mouth manages to chase the taste of you until he no longer can.

You study him, his cock leaking against the band of his briefs and his lips wet and glistening. He looks back at you with a look of…anger, maybe? You chuckle at it before lifting your shirt off of you and letting your breasts spring free.

“You were so close to begging,” You coo at him, stepping forward and falling to your knees in front of him, almost mimicking his own pose. Still, he towers over you like this, but you make a point to make him smaller than he is when you push his head down to your chest. “What a cutie.”

For some reason, he loves that compliment so fucking much in this moment with you. He strains his body to suck against one of your nipples, humming at the compliment and wanting nothing more than to hear you praise him now rather than beg him. Never did he think this would be something he’s into, but damn.

You sense that he likes it with the way he moves his tongue on your chest, he always speeds up his actions when you do something he likes. Usually it’s when you start to cry, or whimper, or choke– but this time it’s because you called him cute.

Taking note of that, you hold his head against your chest as you allow yourself to feel his tongue abuse your nipple briefly. Then you’re throwing yourself back into action by scooting back and away from him before tapping at his legs. “Take these off, and sit properly.”

He listens, in a daze of wanting nothing more than to have you back in his mouth in whatever way you deem fit.

You’re pleased by his obedience when he kicks his briefs off and fully exposes his raging cock. Leaking, stiff, slightly raw from the fabric. Your mouth nearly waters at it when he sits flat on the floor and leans against the bed.

Typically, you’d go ahead and choke on it for a few minutes, but by this point you kind of want to feel him inside of you. You want to see how he will react to the overwhelming relief of having his cock inside of you, and so you slip your panties off and plant yourself on him without warning.

His arms shoot around you with a drawn-out moan of feeling you go straight for the kill. You slide down so easily, and he can’t help but shiver at how wet and tight you are as you spread yourself open on.

He squeezes around you with his arms, burying his face into your neck with a gasp and somewhat of a whimper. One that shows you that you’re doing exactly what he needs, but probably not what he wants.

You, on the other hand, hold your moans in so that you can hear him clearly. With his hair tickling your cheek and his cock practically impaling you, it’s difficult not to try and wiggle away from your own doing. He splits you open so fucking good, the uncomfortable fit making your ears and cheeks feel hot as you try to adjust without showing him a reaction of either pain or pleasure.

He’s the one whimpering about it. You know that the stretch you’re feeling must be overwhelming on his end too. You can feel his cock twitch, and his breath hitches with each second you don’t move on him. You sit there with your weight holding his hips in place to where he couldn’t fuck up even if he wanted to, which you can tell he does.

And you stay that way until his gasps become wet, and you can feel the remnants of drool fall against your neck as he tries to contain himself. You stay even as his gasps turn to little moans, pleading for you to move, until they turn to full out whimpers of pain. His hands grip at you in this harsh and close hug, his chest squishing your tits so close to your own body that you know he’s coming undone as you sit on him.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You question his hair, and you feel a short nod.

“Say it.”

Mingyu’s body jerks under you as he spreads his legs and leaves your ass hovering just above the floor as you sit on him. The slight change of angle causes you to moan softly at the way the head of his cock reaches impossibly deeper.

“Just ask, and I’ll let you.” You continue as you try to compose yourself, clenching your walls around him to elicit a response, but it appears he’s gone.

Absolutely lost to the warmth of you, his hands grip harder and his legs tense up.

“I could be coming so deep inside of you right now,” he tries to say, flinching at the way you clench around him again. “Of fucking course i want to fuck you.”

You pull back from his grip to give him a disappointed look.

“Well, you can’t.” You smile, clenching around him again and watching him drop his head back against the mattress in a pained groan of defeat.

And like that, he feels you clench again, and again, essentially jerking him off with your pussy alone until he’s babbling and rolling his eyes back.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, still.” He groans, throwing his hand to his hair to run his fingers through it, as if he’s searching for any type of relief since you’re not offering much to him. “I bet you feel so full right now, can’t believe you’re not bouncing on me yet, can’t believe you’re not begging me to fuck you.”

It’s like a fucking competition at this point to have him completely give in. You want him to give himself up to you, you want him to let you take him for all he’s worth.

“Not until you give in.” You challenge, swirling your hips just a bit to see if it helps your case. And god, it does.

Surprisingly, he winces and begins to shiver under you at just that short movement, you watch his hand go from his hair to the blankets just behind and above his head to grip at them. You can feel him try to tense his ass, just to press into you a bit– just to see if he can get away with fucking you.

“I can see how badly you want it, just admit it.”

There it is, and there he goes. That last bit of brick wall between his dominant side and submissive side disappears and he’s falling into it. Easier now than before, it’s not an act now. Though it wasn’t entirely before either. He is desperate at this point. He’s not doing it because it’s what you want, he’s doing it because it’s what he needs.

You draw back slightly at his hiccup, not at all expecting him to start fucking crying. But he does, his eyes prickling and glistening more than they ever have as the tears well up in his eyes. Not tears of sadness, but very clearly tears of pleading.

“Oh,” You sigh out, clenching again but this time completely unintentionally at the image. Your big, looming boyfriend is sitting broken with his cock nestled so deep inside of you that he’s actually fucking crying because you won’t let him move. “My god.” You sigh out again when he looks at you with a deep breath.

“You do want me that badly.” You confirm for him, knowing that his throat must hurt as he tries to continue to contain himself.

He nods aggressively, not even realizing how far he’s fallen from his throne, furrowing his brows as one of the tears falls down his cheek and he’s a heaving mess waiting for you to just fucking move.

So, you do. You slide him out of you just a bit before sitting again and in an instant he’s shooting his arms around you and gripping you so tightly, hoping to whatever god above tells you to hang onto him because he knows for a fact that he can’t string together the words at the moment.

Just like that, he gains control over you in a way that isn’t dominant at all. He’s lost in it, holding you so tightly and tipping you onto your back so fast that you can barely comprehend the speed he’s fucking you at.

His eyes are still wet, and his hands are still bruising, and his cock is driving into you so aggressively that somehow he’s going harder than he does when you ask him to fuck you rough. So this is how he is when he’s desperate.

The wet sounds of your pussy being slammed, his lips sucking at your neck, whimpering at the sudden and intense relief his cock is getting– it’s um.. it’s a lot to handle.

And when he starts trying to talk in a whisper, it comes out at varying volumes, causing your ears to ring with somehow, even more arousal than before.

“Can’t believe you pulled this out of me,” he starts, long and hard thrusts pushing you up inch by inch on the floor under him. “You feel so fucking good,” he continues, rambling out words he doesn’t even know he’s saying. “I couldn’t–” He pauses in a moan, slamming into you particularly hard and causing you to yelp, which causes him to nearly growl out the next words. “I couldn’t hold back anymore,”

You can’t respond, as you feel the lights in your head flicker and the fog set in.

“To think your pussy could have me crying,” he whimpers out pathetically this time, feeling his orgasm approach so fast that he doesn’t even want to edge himself like he normally would with you. “Still so tight, fuck.” He compliments through his chase, up until he’s stuttering his hips and crying out a string of curses and apologies for managing to be on top of you when he knew you wanted to be in control.

It’s not long before he realizes your spiral, mid orgasm, he notices your overstimulated shaking body and the reality smacks him in the face. Normally, you’re a sub, you’re his sub.. You practically forced yourself back into the mind-set while trying to force him into it, and when he tipped you over and couldn’t stop himself from taking the pleasure from you, you spiraled with him.

He continues to whisper out pained apologies as he releases the last bit of his cum into you before pulling you back up and into his arms. His heart is pounding, and his cock is twitching sensitively inside of you when he does it.

He winces at the feeling but focuses more on your silence, rubbing your clit roughly as you sigh against him limply, up until your body begins to shake in his arms and he works you through your orgasm like the perfect boyfriend he is.

“That didn’t end the way it was supposed to.” You pout, disappointed that he still ended up being the one to get both of you off.

He smiles fondly at you, feeling like he’s weightless as you gripe and complain about it.

“We can try again. I promise to totally submit to you next time.” He says with a gentle rub against your waist as you step into the shower. “I’ll even beg.”

You look at him with interest, smiling slightly but hating the fact that it didn’t work out how you wanted it to this time.

“I did cry, you know..” He reminds you, his cheeks heating up at the embarrassment of the fact that you managed to pull that out of him.

“You did.” You poke fun at him, feeling the water from the shower hit your sweat and cum stained skin, it’s warm and soothing. “And it was hot.”

He quirks a brow.

“We are too alike,” He gripes with a laugh, shaking his head and preparing to get into the shower with you. “but it’s gonna take some practice if you want me acting the way you act.”

“But you cried.”

“I did.”

#mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #seventeen smut #svt smut

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yesokayiknow · 4 months

Text

okay so you know how it goes: fourteen comes to life in thirteen's clothes. and they're both too short and too loose and entirely too bright for his frame of mind. they worked with a doctor who hid everything behind a too wide smile; not so much with a doctor whose pain and tiredness is written across his face

he needs to change. obviously

and then the star beast starts, and fourteen leaves the tardis, and he's still in thirteen's clothes

he just. he doesn't know. how does he choose new clothes? he feels wrong. how will wearing something else change that?

(donna tells him that it's christmas, mate; it's bloody freezing. maybe wear longer trousers, yeah? also he's both too young and too old to wear braces. just a friendly note)

he doesn't have to explain who he is to the unit scientist, not with those clothes. instead he talks about how he doesn't understand why he looks like this. why he is this. why this face? why isn't he someone new?

actually. maybe he is someone new. was he ever this open before? hm

why do you look like that, sylvia hisses, trying to hide him from the daughter he destroyed ruined left

it's a lottery, he replies, purposely ignorant

he still has his thirteenth self's screwdriver. it's too small in his hands

(the whole time they were her, her hands were too small. she didn't like touching anyway, but whenever someone took her hand, it felt wrong. they were too small. sometimes it felt like if she worked fast enough, tinkered about without stopping, she wouldn't have to look at them)

everything goes wrong. his fault, like always

(blimey. of all the things to carry over from the first time he had this face, it had to be the guilt, didn't it?)

you shouldn't look like that, the doctordonna says, and he runs a hand down his face with a tired laugh

no, the doctordonna says, not the face. a hand reaches out to grasp at the collar of his shirt, at the dangling earring chain. this isn't you. who are you, doctor?

like he knows. like they've ever-

she dies.

she lives. he doesn't deserve it. it isn't about him. he still doesn't deserve it

we're letting it go, donna says, and he looks down at himself, at another him's clothes, another him's screwdriver

well, she never was subtle, his donna

the tardis is gorgeous, though when isn't she. he tries to show off his new console to donna, and she rolls her eyes, and drags him off to the wardrobe

unlike normally, where all the clothes are scattered about, the new tardis wardrobe now also has a line of wardrobes stood against the wall. fifteen of them, to be exact

the last wardrobe is open. and empty

he goes to the second to last, and opens it to reveal a wide array of rainbow patterned shirts. she probably would've hated for her things to be organised like this. always creating mess so she wouldn't have to think about anything important. he laughs. and he takes off the sky coloured coat and the worn boots and the earrings and gently places them inside. tag, he thinks, as he closes the doors

and then he moves down to the eleventh wardrobe, full of brown coats and blue suits and neatly pressed shirts and pairs of converse. and he stands in front of it. and he wonders

after a moment, donna's like wait do you want me to leave?? you never cared about nudity before, did you? and he's like oh actually i do feel more self conscious. huh. weird.

he doesn't have to say, i think i'm a different person. not to donna. she just gives him a smile, and a shoulder nudge, and tells him she'll see him in the console room

the last wardrobe is empty

he takes a breath, and then goes to rummage about in the rest of the clothes

#13 🤝 14 (🤝 12) -> dysphoria 😔#doctor who #the doctor #fourteen #my fanfic #i mean ig #the tardis is including war. and so am i #the fugitive doctor's clothes are around somewhere also #then he leaves the wardrobe and donna's like literally all you've done is change your colour palette #and he's like oi i've only been me for a few hours! give me time to get a fashion sense!#and she's like well how long were you your last face #and he's like idk. bout a century?#and she's like i saw your clothes before this. that one had decades & never found a sense of fashion so i'm not holding my breath with you.#it's the new year i've decided to write about things only i still care abt probably dsakjlaskjl #why isn't this a proper fic. because i can't be bothered. hope that helps #bye im gonna go make brownies

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ghostandsoap · 1 year

Text

Someone Unexpected

John Price x Fem! “Peach” Reader

Tags: Price being a simp. Laswell being a queen.

Word Count: 2.3k

“I plan to be of good service to you, sir.”

It started as a suggestion to Captain Price.

At first, it was a gentle proposal that another member be added to his team. Price declined once, twice, three times. After his third refusal, the suggestion suddenly became a request…and then the request became a demand.

Price fought it, and he fought it hard. He claimed that he didn’t need the manpower. He said that his force was just fine the way that it was. He stated that they didn’t need anyone else.

But it seemed that the harder he protested, the faster he was losing the battle.

John was promised that Kate Laswell would do all the work. She knew who to find, where to find them, and whether or not they were right for the position. Laswell knew Price, and she knew exactly what kind of person was going to meet his expectations…if not go beyond them.

John wasn’t having it. He grumbled and griped about it up until the moment that he sat down in Laswell’s office to discuss her choosing. He was rigid when he walked in, not even attempting to get comfortable when he sat down.

“Alright, Laswell. Who’s the lucky winner?” He groaned not, utterly miserable over the fact that he was going to have to give in to this.

“Come on now, John. That’s not very fair of you, is it?” She asked, furrowing her brows at him.

“I’m always fair,” He shrugged, shifting in the seat he was sitting in across from Laswell. “Am I so wrong for asking who you’ve so generously picked out for me?”

Kate didn’t see any sense in wasting time. She could sit here all day and stall, talking on and on to try and convince John not to be such a hardass about this. Although, Kate would be there forever if she attempted that, and Kate didn’t fancy spending her time trying to chip away at John’s stubborn nature.

She reached into the top drawer in her desk, carefully retrieving a tan colored folder that was thick with papers on the inside. He had no doubt that they were organized and paper clipped into categories. He watched her open the front and quickly scan the first page before closing it again.

“Sergeant [L/N],” Laswell handed over a manila folder with all of the newbie’s personal information inside. “Confident, empathetic, and very intelligent.”

“Empathetic?” John snorted. “Does he come with a bow in his hair?”

“A little empathy wouldn’t kill you to have, Captain.” Kate fired back. “And she is as good as they come. I hand picked her myself.”

Price debated getting up and walking straight out.

Price knew that the world was different than when he was a rookie. More and more women were being employed and deployed to the military. He wasn’t against it per se, it was just that if he had the option, he would choose a man most of the time. In his experience, women tended to be less rough and could be totally unpredictable. Price couldn’t afford that.

“I need someone tougher than my usual pickings. I need someone that I can trust.” He argued with her.

“You can trust her,” Kate said. “She’s valuable, John. She’s skilled in tactical training…both performing it and teaching it. She’s also advanced in first aid and field treatment.”

That could be useful…

“Hm. What else can you tell me about her?” He went on, curious to know more.

“I’ve spent some time with her. She has quite the infectious personality, the kind that lights up a room when she walks in,” Kate said. “She knows when she’s the best in the room.”

So far, there wasn’t much that Kate had said that was selling Price on this woman. All he was hearing was that some innocent, happy-go-lucky gal was about to waltz her way into his team, expecting to run the show.

Price couldn’t handle that. That was so far from what he needed.

“What do they call her?” He asked, wondering what kind of callsign was bestowed upon her.

Kate had a grin on her face, a certain expression that looked as if she were about to seal John Price’s fate.

“Peach.” She answered.

Price almost choked on his own saliva. Kate must’ve been kidding. She had to be kidding.

“Peach?” Price scoffed at such a girlish call sign. “Why do they call her that?”

The smile on Kate’s face was genuine, but had a message behind it that let John know that he was letting his stubbornness shine through. Kate knew exactly the kind of person that would be right for Price’s force. There was no doubt in her mind that the woman she had in mind was perfect.

“She has thick skin and is sweet as can be…” Kate beamed. “Not to mention, she’s a true southern lady.”

Oh no. No no no no.

Price was biting his tongue. He had quite a few words to say about that. This had to be some kind of cruel, tasteless joke.

Not an American. Oh, God – anything but an American.

“Kate…” Price sighed in distress, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand.

“John,” She held up her hand before he could say anything else. “One chance. I’m asking you to give her a chance. I wouldn’t have made this arrangement if I didn’t think she was right for your team.”

“And if she’s not?” Price returned.

“Then you can say ‘I told you so’. Just give her a chance. That’s all I’m asking,” She repeated. “She might surprise you.”

Doubt it. Nice try, Laswell.

Neither of them said much after that. Kate had said all she needed to, and she basically kicked John out of her office before he had a chance to share his thoughts. He walked out feeling defeated, as if he had no say or control over his force.

He wasn’t hopeful. Sure, some of the assets and characteristics that Laswell had mentioned could be potentially useful. But Price had encountered potentially useful people in the past, and none of them turned out the way he wanted.

It was out of his hands now, and the least he could do was do exactly what Laswell had requested – give her a chance.

But there was just no way that she was as good as Laswell said. Nobody could have it all. Nobody could impress Captain Price.

For now, all he could do was wait and see.

***

Today was the day.

Price was told that she would be coming in today to get situated before the mission they were heading out for the next morning. He was going with the flow at this point. He was just doing what Laswell told him to avoid getting yelled at.

He was preparing to leave, considering that they were less than 24 hours out from heading to their mission’s destination. Not to mention, he was feeling a twinge of anxiousness to lay eyes on Laswell’s prized pick.

He waited a good while before making his way to make his official introduction. He didn’t want to seem excited about it because he most surely wasn’t.

When his stalling time was used up, he made the journey to the spare bunk room where she would be staying for the night. It wasn’t like she really had time to get settled because she would be packed up and off the next morning.

Her back was towards him when he arrived at the open doorway. She was occupied with rummaging through her pack and she didn’t hear the man’s footsteps approach and stop at her door. He knocked on the frame of the door to make his presence known, which then grabbed her attention.

She turned around at the sound, eyes wide and glittering as she made eye contact with him. His blood ran cold and his muscles went tight all over. He was physically stunned, because she was not what he was expecting. He went to introduce himself, but she identified him and was on it first.

“Captain Price,” She greeted, her southern drawl dripping off each of her words as she reached her hand out to him. “I’m Sergeant [L/N]. But everybody calls me Peach.”

So I’ve heard.

His heart started to patter away in his chest when heard her accent. It was thick and clear, and it fit her like a glove. Her words were spoken with genuine respect and admiration for the man she was speaking to. He almost felt…honored to be spoken to by her.

She wore a smile on her face proudly. It was a glowing kind of look that could bring joy to anyone who witnessed it for themselves. She had a gentle look to her. She didn’t look mean or like she had been hardened by the world. But there was something lingering in her eyes, swimming in the depths of her pupils that let Captain Price know that she had a tough side.

She was beautiful. There was no other way to say it. She was quite easy to look at. He had a hard time looking away from her, like she’d disappear right in front of him if he even dared to glance away.

Her hand was still held out to him, a flicker of confusion flashing over her face. He realized then that he hadn’t said anything. He had only been staring at her and analyzing her mentally…and probably making her think he was off his rocker.

“Sergeant,” He returned the greeting, reaching for her hand to shake it. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Her touch was addicting. The sensation shot up his arm and tingled through his body in a way that made him feel all kinds of fuzzy and warm. It made it hard to retract his hand, and it wasn’t until she practically snatched her hand back that the handshake was broken.

“Laswell has told me a lot about you. She speaks very highly of you, sir.”

Sir.

It felt dirty hearing her say that. Then that made him feel dirty. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with himself all of a sudden. Maybe he was coming down with something…

Get it together, John. Not like you haven’t seen a pretty woman before.

“She seems to think highly of you as well,” Price cleared his throat. “Told me all about you.”

He smacked himself internally for saying it like that. The change in the look on her face was subtle, but enough to let him know that you were thinking that he was a total quack.

“All good things I hope, sir.”

His knees wobbled.

“Certainly.” He nodded.

He suddenly realized that he was out of things to say. He had planned a whole list of questions to scope out what kind of valuable assets that she would be bringing to the table. Now, he couldn’t remember a single one of them. She didn’t seem to mind the silence, but he felt like millions of ants were crawling all over his skin.

I wonder what the rest think of her…

“Have you met Sergeant MacTavish?” Price voiced his question aloud without really meaning to.

“Soap? Yes sir,” She answered. “I’ve also been acquainted with Ghost and Gaz, Captain.”

She was quick. She hadn’t even been here three hours yet. Price was beginning to think that she was several steps ahead of him already.

“Getting on with them then?” He asked, and her head tilted to the side.

“Sorry?”

It occurred to him then that his vocabulary and hers were likely very different. Her accent and dialogue was alien to him, the same way that he assumed his was to her.

“I mean are you getting along with them?” He chuckled.

“Oh! We’re gettin’ along just fine,” She smiled sheepishly. “I plan to be of good service to you, sir.”

He hoped so. He really hoped so.

“Good. Are you all set to go in the morning?”

Is it hot in here? It’s definitely just warm in here, right?

“Ready to go,” She smiled again, and he felt a sweat break out on his forehead. “Is there anything I can do for you, Captain?”

Oh, Christ.

He had to get out of there. He needed to go and take the coldest shower that he could stand. Maybe it would cool him off and slow his heart rate down. He was surprised at himself, because he wasn’t usually so…suggestive.

“I don’t think so, Sergeant. You’re all set,” He withheld from wheezing out an exhale of a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “I look forward to seeing you, Peach.”

The name vibrated out of his throat and seemed to echo through the air. He liked saying it, and suddenly he was excited to get to say it more in the future.

“Same to you, Captain.”

With that, Price turned on his heel and practically sprinted once he was out of earshot. That was unlike any first encounter he had ever experienced. No one had ever brought him to nearly crumbling like that. It was freaking him out, and he needed quiet time to calm down.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how unexpected this was. How unexpected she was. His hesitation was now more of a curious feeling. He was curious to know how she would do and what she was like in general.

Something was different about her…but he didn’t quite know what it was yet.

Peach had a lot to prove to Captain Price. She knew it, and he knew it too. The good captain wasn’t totally sold on her just yet, but this first encounter was definitely dissolving some of his initial reservations. He could get used to having her around and having her in his life.

Little did he know that she would become a much bigger part of it than he originally anticipated. And for that, he was forever thankful.

Maybe someone unexpected wasn’t so bad after all.

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talesfrommedinastation · 4 months

Text

My redneck neighbor Doug on the Jedi in 'The Clone Wars'

Y'all have asked, and Dr. Meat Muffin might be a disgruntled old hag that chugs too much Trader Joe’s bourbon and doodles too much subpar art, but she keeps her promises!

Just so y’all know, if you’re a major character (Anakin, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, etc) you keep your name, because it was drilled into Doug’s head over 8 seasons of Clone Wars and the movies. Everyone else, though, Doug gave up and created his own catchphrases for them.

CW: This one's not as spicy as Doug's previous rants regarding Star Wars, but y'all know if y'all know. "It'll all come out in the wash."

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

Plo Koon: Ah, Shrimp Daddy. He looks like a shrimp that’s been boiled and left in the sun after a potluck. But my wife LOVES him, she says he has the nicest voice and she wishes he’d narrate some books. I loved him too, he was my favorite. That scene where he tells his clone boys in space that they’re important to him? Ah great. They should have him lead HR meetings.

Aayla Secura: Babe-the-Blue-Jedi. They sent her away from the Temple because Yoda didn’t want that hotness distracting everyone. Is she and Miguel (Bly?!) dating? They are, right?

Kit Fisto: Reggae Swamp Thing. Tell me that boy don't look like he lives in the Atchafalaya and bangs on the steel drums all day. I wonder if he stole those shorts from Michael Phelps. He’s cool but does he need to have a tank to swim in on his ship? Does he have gills? I need more info on this guy.

Adi Gallia: Storm’s Cousin. Doesn’t this chick look like her? She does, right? Maybe she's a Jedi cause she can't control the weather. Didn’t Maul’s brother Saul impale her on his horns and that’s how she died?* Why didn’t Maul do that to Obi-Wan? Maul was obsessed with Obi-Wan, do you think it’s because he had a crush on him after he sliced him in half?

(Doug also ships Obi-Wan with Maul now? IS THERE ANYONE WHO DOUG DOESN'T SHIP OBI-WAN WITH?!)

Shaak-Ti: Ahsoka’s Aunt. They’re totally related. (“No, they’re not.” “Says who?” “Um, EVERYONE?!”) She’s cool, nice to the clone boys. I like her horns.

Saesee Tiin : Angry Bull Boy. He looks like a minotaur whose daddy left him at a Wal-Mart instead of the Labyrinth after drinking too much.

Deepa Billaba: My Coworker Anu. Seriously! She looks JUST LIKE HER. I even texted her a screenshot, and she used that as her Slack Channel picture for the longest time. Nice lady, she's a good master to Lil Kanan. Hm, Lil Kanan sounds like a rap person my niece would listen to.

Ki-Adi-Mundi: Mutant-Mall-Santa. Look me dead ass in the eye and tell me the man don’t look like he was supposed to hand out presents and ask kids what they want for Christmas and ended up hanging out in toxic waste instead. He's a snotty asshole, I don't like him, he thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow.

Luminara Undali: Lady-in-Drape. She’s a green lady, and she wears a drape. Meat Muffin, I'm tired and it's about to snow.

Barriss Offee: Little Lady-in-Drape. Man, she was awful, but she had good points, ya know? Kind of like Darth Maul. Do you think Darth Maul and Obi-Wan ever dated? Or would Obi-Wan’s boyfriend get jealous?

Quinlan Voss: College-Hippie-Boy. Doesn’t he just look like one of those goofs that fart around with hackysacks all day long? I'd buy weed from him if he was selling, he looks like an exporter and consumer, if you know what I mean.

Even Piall: Dobby the House Jedi. Man he looks like he was on his way to help Harry Potter or something and ended up in a bathrobe with a light saber. Ah well.

*= Savage is ‘Saul’ and Feral is ‘Paul’. So it’s Maul, Saul, and Paul. I strained a muscle laughing when I got this.

Tagging my Redneck Doug stans here! @amalthiaph @sued134 @eyecandyeoz @thecoffeelorian @merkitty49 @megmca @skellymomam I missing anyone?

Let me know if I missed any Jedi, those were the ones that came up that Doug didn't immediately recognize.

96 notes · View notes

cowpokeomens · 8 months

Text

Little One

Pairing: Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI WITH THIS!!! Anyways, we got some smut, some vaginal fingering, p in v, blowjobs, praise kink, cute pet names, lots of kissing, lots of me being h-word, enjoy folks

He’s staring.

You can feel him staring.

Part of you wonders why the others haven’t made fun of him yet- they jump at the opportunity to clown on each other, scoff when someone is being “soft.” You hadn’t risked a glance in a long time to judge the nature of the stare- was it soft? If not, what was it? Surely you aren’t the only one aware of the stare to begin with?

You do your best not to wriggle around where you sit on the floor, cuffing your sweats one more time out of nervousness. They were from some super-secret-elite-mega-ultra-exclusive merch drop, and Noah had insisted on you needing a pair, because “Who the fuck doesn’t own a single pair of sweats?” They were as comfortable as described, if not a bit long. Such was the case when clothing was designed by giants, you reckoned.

“Lillis.” You heard a Swedish murmur, knowing the name was directed at you. You remembered the first time you had heard it, had corrected him with a polite, “Oh, that’s not my name.” You remembered his shy smile as he said he knew. You had never gotten around to asking him to translate, worried it meant “donkey shit” and would ruin the maladaptive daydream in your head wherein he wanted you back and-

Stop, you thought to yourself. We don’t go there.

You finally raised your eyes to his, dark and thoughtful and all-consuming; eyes that had been trained on you for at least half an hour. “Hm?” Was your dazzling response.

He gave you a sweet smile, barely there. “Everyone said they were going to grab food for dinner, were you going to tag along or slum it with me here until they get back?” He leaned in conspiratorially, stage-whispering, “If you stay, we can warm up in Mario Kart and dethrone Noah.”

“As if.” Came a scoff from the kitchen, where the man in question was slipping on a pair of slides.

“New plan: You have to stay, because I’m tired of his arrogance.” Nicholas chimed in matter-of-factly, tugging on a pair of worn-out sneakers.

A debate broke out between them, Nick serving as instigator to both sides as Noah listed all the reasons why he was “so damn good” at the racing game. You felt a tap on your shoulder.

He was closer now, too close for you to hide your sharp intake of breath at his proximity. “So you’re going to tag along with those goofballs?” Jolly gave you a knowing look, as if he already knew the answer. No doubt it was evident on your face.

You returned his smile. “I think I’ll sit that one out, thanks.” Then, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the kerfuffle in the kitchen, “Y’all go ahead, I’ll hang back here.”

Nicholas hid a smile poorly, Noah outright rolled his eyes. “Figures. Text us your order, don’t do anything nasty on the couch-” He was cut off with a loud smack, voice trailing down the hallway as the group hastily exited. “Ow, fuck. What? It’s true! He’s been staring-”

You could feel your cheeks warming up as his words grew fainter. Jolly seemed unbothered, already setting up the Nintendo Switch controllers, handing you your signature purple.

“So, unfortunately, I don’t know if we’ll actually be able to dethrone the king tonight. You know how much I suck at Mario Kart- and I haven’t played in months probably.” You admit sheepishly.

Jolly huffed a laugh at your confession, coming over to sit beside you- so close that your outstretched legs were bumping against each other. You could smell the shampoo he used that morning, cologne coming off him in soft waves, the scent of amber and tonka bean mixing with something else that was heady and dark. You wanted to burrow your face into the smell and fall asleep.

“Fear not, älskling, we can sharpen your skills in no time.” He made quick work of adjusting the settings, then turned to you suddenly. “C’mere.”

You blinked. “I am here?”

He huffed another laugh, then motioned to the ground between his legs. “No, like, here. Come sit, I can’t help you from all the way over there.”

Your face was scarlet, you knew it. You couldn’t look him in the eyes, but you nodded and got up anyways, shuffling over to settle yourself between his long legs. Your back was rod-straight, afraid of what it might feel like to relax against his chest. His arms came up and around you, making you feel small in comparison as he placed his hands atop yours on the controller. His hair tickled your arm as he leaned forward, chin resting at the juncture of your shoulder and neck. You reminded yourself to breathe.

“Okay, so the first thing we’re going to do is customize the car. What character do you want?”

“Peach.” You replied automatically, not giving it a thought.

You could feel his smile. “Princess for the princess, sounds good.” He selected the little blonde character, the screen shifting to a selection of bikes, wheels, and gliders. “So if you press this button, it’ll show you the stats for each option. You can go for speed, but keep in mind that it can be harder to turn…” He continued on as you found yourself relaxing into the lull of his voice, nodding at the appropriate times, letting his fingers guide you across the screen. Your shoulders slumped a bit, back coming to rest against his chest every so slightly, the soft material of his sweatshirt cushioning you.

“... did you get any of that?”

“Hm?” You straightened a bit, more alert now. “Oh- uh, yeah. I want the little pink sportscar- with the stripes on it.”

“That one has the lowest speed, älskling.” You could hear him fighting back a laugh.

“The stripes will make me faster.” You argued. “And what is an ‘L-sling?’ Will it make me go faster, too?”

He couldn’t hold back his laugh now, shoulders curving forward to bump against you gently with the action. “Älskling, not ‘L-sling,’ lillis.”

You sighed, exasperated. “What does that even mean? It’s no fair, I don’t even know what you’re saying! Is it mean?” He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. “Oh my god, it’s totally mean, I changed my mind I don’t want to know-”

“Baby.” You froze at the word. He had set down the controller, hand sitting lightly on your thigh. Your skin was seared where his fingertips grazed. “They’re not bad words, they’re just-” He stopped with a soft sigh.

You decided to be brave, turning around so you could see his face. You sat back on your heels, looking at him expectantly, patiently.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said at last.

You looked down, cheeks flushing, fingers toying with each other. One of his hands reached out to grab yours, stilling their movement. You took a deep breath. “Okay, trade.”

He cocked his head, confused. “Trade?”

You nodded. “Mhm. You tell me what ‘lillis’ means, and I’ll tell you something too.”

He thought about it. “Do I get to pick what you tell me?”

You furrowed your brows despite yourself. “Yeah, I guess that’s fair. Now go.”

A ghost of a smile flashed across his face. “Lillis is like, ‘little one,’ I guess would be the closest translation.” He looked sheepish for a moment, continuing, “It’s, uh, well- it’s kind of like baby talk?”

“You’re calling me a little baby?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He laughed now, shattering the tension of the moment. “No, I’m calling you little. In the tone that you’d use with a baby. It’s-”

“I am not little!” You objected indignantly.

He gave you a simpering look. You frowned. He continued on, “It’s a term of endearment. Now,” both of his hands came to rest on the tops of your thighs. “You tell me something- something you would never, ever tell me otherwise.”

A million ideas flashed through your mind, ranging from domestic scenes of cooking dinner to carnal desires that you only indulged yourself in when you were at home, in your bed, very alone. Your face heated up, whether from shame or arousal you weren’t sure. Now wasn’t the time for it anyways.

“I can see you overthinking, älskling. Spill it.” He ducked his head down to look into your eyes, and you found yourself unable to stop your mouth from opening.

“The first time I saw you I wanted to kiss you.” You blurted, jaw snapping shut, as if the force would somehow form a vacuum that could suck all the words back in.

He was grinning, a devilish thing that was entirely too smug and self-satisfied given the circumstances. “Oh yeah?”

“Shut up.” You grumbled, unable to formulate a witty response.

He leaned closer, hands resting on the outer curve of your thigh, gripping slightly. “And now?”

“Now what?” You countered, unsure of what he was saying.

A smile lingered on his lips, the way wildflowers linger in the early days of autumn. You realized too late that he was too close again. “Do you still want to kiss me now?”

You swallowed once, breaths ragged. Finally, you nodded.

Another grin. “Then ask nicely.”

Your mouth dropped open, taken aback. “‘Ask nicely?’” You repeated, rage bubbling up to the surface. “You should ask nicely! You’re the one staring at me today! Big, dumb, Swedish-”

You were cut off as his lips crashed into yours, one hand leaving your thigh to grab your jaw, the other coming up to your back to pull you against him. You melted into the feeling, your hands finding their way to his face.

“Pretty girl,” he murmured against your lips, in between kisses. “My pretty girl.” His tongue came out to trace your bottom lip, catching it in his teeth and tugging on it. The groan you let out was entirely involuntary, legs scrambling up so you could settle in his lap. He bit your lip again, and your hips flexed into him, grinding down.

“Älskling, we don’t have to do anything-” He mumbled around your mouth, hands pulling you impossibly closer.

“We don’t,” You agreed, then continued, “But if it’s all the same to you, I have a lot of ideas filed under ‘things I would never, ever tell you-’”

You could feel his grin in the kiss, large hands coming down to grip at your ass, kneading the flesh there. You whimpered, hands gripping at his shoulders.

“Not here.” He finally broke away to pant. “Not the couch.”

The giggle that escaped you was almost delirious, the shock that this was really happening coursing through your body. He stood, pulling you up with him, guiding you both to his room.

“Oh, we’re gonna have weird, nasty sex.” You sang gleefully.

He laughed loudly at your antics, finally reaching his room, where he shut and locked the door quickly. You backed up slowly, until the backs of your legs hit the bed. He turned to look at you then, pupils blown wide with lust. He was in front of you in two quick strides, hands resting on your hips.

“Tell me.” He demanded, tone not in the least bit demanding. “Tell me the ideas you have.”

You gulped, suddenly shy again. “Um…”

“Trade?” He prompted. His hands had made their way under your shirt, rubbing at the bare skin of your back.

You nodded, happier with the agreement. “Um, well.”

A thought popped in your head, one of the more profane on your list of fantasies. It must have reflected on your face, because Jolly’s next words were: “Tell me.”

You blushed for the millionth time that night. But, a deal was a deal. “Remember when I flew out to visit y’all in Texas? The hotel with the balconies?”

A wicked grin spread on his face, following your line of thought. “Go on.”

“I thought- I thought about you. About us. On the balcony.” You stammered.

“A bit more detail, baby.” He pushed gently.

Bolstering your courage, you continued. “I thought about what- what it would feel like, to have you bend me over the railing and do what you wanted with me. I thought-” You took a shaky breath. “Thought about the people who might have seen me- seen us and known that I was yours.”

His grip was tight on you now as he pushed you back onto the bed. “Thank you for sharing. Want to know what I was thinking about that night, in the next room?”

You nodded too fast, desperate. It didn’t go unnoticed by him.

He was hovering over you now, nose tracing the column of your neck. “I could hear you, y’know.” You froze. “Heard you moaning and whimpering. I thought about what it would be like to be able to spread you out and have my way with you. What kind of sounds you’d make, how long it would take for you to start shaking for me. How long it would take for you to fall apart for me.” His hands were under your shirt, holding your ribcage, thumbs playing the underside of your breasts. “I came twice before my cock finally softened enough for me to sleep.”

“Joakim.” You whimpered wantonly, lust clawing at your senses.

“There she is.” He answered softly. “The girl in the room next to mine. She kept saying my name, too- moaned it every time she came. Think you can do that again, pretty girl?” You nodded desperately. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes.” You gasped. “Whatever you want Joakim, I can do it.”

He pulled you into another deep kiss. “If you want to stop at any point, we can, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good girl. Take off your clothes.” He instructed, standing up to watch you.

You all but ripped off your shirt, tossing it to some corner of the room, your sweatpants following shortly after. You didn’t give a thought to your undergarments until Jolly said “Nice panties.”

A glance down reminded you that your underwear had a gingerbread man emblazoned on the front of them, remnants of an impulse purchase last Christmas. “Shut up- I’m doing laundry tomorrow.” You couldn’t suppress a grin, though.

He crawled back onto the bed, kissing you deeply as soon as he was close enough. He leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth, sucking at it until it had hardened. You arched into his touch as he moved his focus to the other one, teeth just barely grazing the skin. Finally, you pawed at his sweatshirt. “You too- off, off.”

You broke the kiss long enough for him to tug the article over his head, hair going in every direction. Your hands came down to tug at his pants, boxers doing nothing to conceal the bulge he was sporting. You tried stroking it through the material, but he swatted your hands away. “You first.” His tone was final.

He pushed you back slowly, until he was fully on top of you, your legs coming up to wrap around his waist. His hips ground into you experimentally, a groan leaving his mouth.

“Please,” You whimpered. “Joakim, please, I need something.”

“I know, pretty girl, so patient for me.” He soothed you as he snaked a hand between your bodies, running his middle finger along your slit. You moaned pitifully at the contact, arching into his touch.

“You are so fucking wet, baby, holy shit-” His finger dipped deeper this time, running over your soaked hole lightly.

“Stop teasing.” You demanded.

He gave you a grin. “If I was teasing you, you’d be crying.”

He thrust two fingers inside you before you could muster a response, curling them up in such a way that made your legs fully extend, toes flexing. He set a slow pace, languidly curling his fingers into you at different angles until he hit a spot that made you gasp.

“There?” He questioned.

“There, there, there, fuck, baby-” Your fingers dug into his shoulders, leveraging yourself as you ground into his hand.

“That’s a good girl, take what you need.” His words were soft in your ear, the praise making you flush as his fingers continued to work that bundle of nerves inside you.

“Fuck, Joakim, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” Your voice broke off into staccato moans as he coaxed you through your orgasm, legs flailing uselessly against his sheets.

You panted as he slipped his fingers out of you, tugging at your underwear until you were bare for him. He nudged your legs apart, confusing you as he dropped down to eye level with your soaked core.

“What are you- fuck.” Your question was abruptly cut off by his tongue on your clit, lapping at the bud like candy. Your back arched off the bed as he worked his way down to your hole, tongue spearing in and out while his thumb continued to work your clit. You hands tangled into the roots of his hair, hips canting up desperately as you fucked back into his face.

Your second orgasm reached you twice as quickly as the first one. “Joakim- I- I can’t-” Guttural moans escaped you as you fell over the precipice yet again, legs quivering as he continued to lap at you until you had come down.

Your breaths came raggedly as you shoved your hair out of your face, sweat collecting on your forehead. Jolly came up to look at you, your slick coating him from nose to chin. You pulled him in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips, your head flopping back onto the mattress as he backed away.

“You done?” He prodded, sounding unsure.

“Absolutely not, if you don’t put your dick in me I will die, Joakim Karlsson-” You couldn’t finish your thought as you both dissolved into giggles. Finally you sat up, crawling over to hover on top of him. “My turn.”

You made quick work of his boxers, resolutely not letting yourself linger on the wet patch that could be seen on the front. His cock sprung free, and you tried your best not to salivate- failing miserably. “God, it’s prettier than I ever imagined.” You whispered, wonder in your voice. Joakim laughed at you again, hands coming up to cover his face. Pretty it was. A cherry red tip mocked you, capping off a sizable length, veins protruding down the underside. Dark curls nestled around the base, not a full bush, but far from bare. You wanted it in your mouth, nay- in your esophagus.

You didn’t realize you had voiced your thought out loud until Jolly roared with laughter, head thrown back as he cackled. You pouted until he caught your expression, laughter dying down to a smile. “By all means, don’t let me stop you from achieving your dreams.” He gestured to himself.

You sniffed haughtily, grabbing the girth and giving it a few experimental strokes. A soft sigh left the man’s mouth at your movements, body relaxing into the bed. You leaned forward enough to pop the tip into your mouth, suckling softly. A hand came up to pet your hair, a light grip settling in your roots. You took more of him, breathing deeply through your nose as your mouth worked its way down his shaft, pulling back slowly. You pushed yourself down again, until your nose was tickled by the curly hairs you saw earlier.

“Fuck, baby, so good for me…” Jolly’s eyes were glued to you as you slid off, taking him deeply again, repeating the actions until his grip in your hair had tightened. You found a rhythm quickly, spit dripping down your chin as you worked him.

“Älskling, I don’t want to cum like this-” His words made you slow until you slipped off with a loud pop. He sighed at the loss. “One day- when I have a whole lot more self control than I do now- I’m gonna fuck your face until my cum leaks out of the sides of your mouth.”

Your brain went foggy at such a prospect, unable to form a coherent sentence. He huffed a laugh at your expression, flipping you both over so that you were back underneath him. One hand shot out to his bedside table, rummaging around until he procured a condom. He tore it open with his teeth, sliding it on with practiced hands.

“You ready?” He checked one last time.

“Yes, please, come on-” Your sentence broke off with a gasp as he entered you slowly, your already-sensitive hole stretching to accommodate his size. He gave you a few shallow thrusts, slowly working you open. “Joakim, please, I want- I want it deep.”

You could hear his sharp intake of breath, then he all but folded you in half as your legs were pushed up to rest on his shoulders. He bottomed out in one fluid motion, a feeling that had your eyes rolling up into your skull as you hands grasped at his arms. His pace was unrelenting, unforgiving as he fucked into you. You were babbling incoherently, a mixture of moans and “fuck, Joakim” filling the air. He leaned further over, somehow pushing even deeper into you.

“Does my girl like that? Is she getting fucked deep enough?”

“I- I-” You couldn’t string together words if your life depended on it.

He placed a kiss on your jaw, an action that would have been tender had he not been fucking you so thoroughly. Your climax approached you like a freight train, until you were clawing at Jolly- arms, back, whatever you could reach. “Joakim, I’m gonna cum, I can’t-”

“Good girl, cum for me, milk my cock pretty girl.” He groaned.

That’s all it took to finish you off, back arching clean off the bed as your slick came out in spurts, legs shaking as Jolly fucked you through your third orgasm. He came shortly after, hands tightening almost painfully on your hips as his pelvis ground into you. He pulled out with a huff, collapsing onto the bed next to you.

You curled up into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. He placed a kiss on top of your head, chest heaving with labored breaths. A hand stroked your back lazily, tracing patterns, playing different imaginary notes on nonexistent frets.

Finally you spoke up. “So, what does this make us?”

“What do you want us to be?” Came his reply.

“That is such a cop-out, Jolly, come on now.” You huffed.

He shook with silent laughter. “Ideally? I’m thinking a fall wedding, maybe 3 kids, I really like the name ‘Axel,’ but I’m willing to hear your ideas too-”

You slapped his chest playfully. “I meant moreso ‘exclusive’ and ‘official.’”

“What is not ‘official’ or ‘exclusive’ about 3 beautiful children together? Is this an American thing-”

“Shut up.” You cut him off with a kiss, noses staying pressed together as you pulled away. “Since you’re being so difficult, you’re my boyfriend now, and you have no say in the matter.”

He grinned. “I guess I could learn to enjoy that.”

You were about to reply when the front door slammed shut. “Sorry guys, the taco place was stupid fucking busy, we- hey, where’d they go?” Came Noah’s voice, faint.

“You said not to do anything nasty on the couch.” Nick reminded him helpfully.

“That is disgusting- hey! If you can hear me, y’all are nasty-”

“There’s tacos whenever you kids are done!” Nicholas chimed in.

#bad omens fic #jolly karlsson smut #joakim karlsson fic #bad omens smut #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens x reader

258 notes · View notes

josiesullysblog · 1 year

Text

Who Cares?

~AGED UP Neteyam x Na’vi Reader

~Fluff, smut, dom neteyam, sub reader, degradation, I'm so bad at tagging :(

~Proofread?-not at all

~Summary-Neteyam is afraid you’ll reject him so tells you he likes another girl.

***

You were by far the meanest person Neteyam has ever met, yet he still loved hanging around you. It wasn't like you were out here stealing candy from babies but you definitely had a mouth on you.

Everyone thought Neteyam was far too good to be hanging out with a girl like you. His future was bright and all you did was take your anger out on everyone else around you, but Neteyam saw past all this. He saw the real you, even when you two were younger.

He was the only person to hear your real laugh, see you smile, and hear your jokes. You were an amazing friend and he felt like when he hung out with you, he could let himself go.

“Why do you hang out with her?” Lo’ak questioned as Neteyam rushed to leave. “She’s more fun to hang out with than you,” Neteyam shot him a smile. “Whatever, go hang out with your girlfriend.”

Neteyam thought about you and him completing the bond. But he believed there was no way you saw him in that light, so he didn't like to think about it often.

He didn't want to because he became sad, imagine having to be friends with someone you are in love with. He didn't want to face this reality so he distracted himself.

He claimed to have a crush on another girl, and he tried hard to like other girls but nobody was you. He was able to convince you he liked another girl which hurt you.

You thought you were obvious with your feelings, like everyone but Neteyam saw how much you liked the boy. He was the only person able to get you laughing, the only person to get your heart beating. But you believed his heart belonged to another.

“Just ask her out,” you said as Neteyam shook his head, “she’ll say no,” you laughed before rubbing your eyes, “you’ll never know till you try.” Neteyam wasn't going to ask because he didn't want her but you didn't know this fact.

You smiled at him, “what if I helped you?” his eyes traveled to your lips, you were nothing short of beautiful, “what do you mean?” he smiled back at you which made you scoot closer, “what if I hooked you up with her? I see her quite often!”

Neteyam didn't know what he wanted your answer to be, but he knew he didn't want that one. He showed a fake smile, “I don't know,” his eyes bore into you. He wondered how you could look so beautiful, how you could completely stop his entire world, yet know nothing of his feelings.

“She’ll want you,” you said standing up, “every girl here wants you!” you laughed, how you wished how very true your words were.

“Hey!” you walked up to the girl Neteyam liked. You couldn't see why, but you weren't one to judge, “what do you want?” you faked a laugh. “Why so hostile? Can't I just say hello?”

She looked at you funny, “what do you need [Y/n]?” you laughed giving up, “Neteyam likes you and is too afraid to tell you, so i’m asking from a friend to a friend,” you touched her shoulder, “give him a chance.”

She laughed, “Neteyam’s old enough, if he liked me he should be able to tell me,” you sighed, “he is but I just wanted to help,” she scoffed, “you always “just helping” him hm?”

She turned to fully face you, “Neteyam is very kind and sweet, but I know for a fact, he’s inexperienced.” you looked confused at her, “Neteyam is the best hunter here! So I don't understand-,” she quickly cut you off, “in bed [Y/n]! I know what I want, and Neteyam’a is so wrapped up in his duties I bet a girl has never even kissed him!”

You stood there having nothing to say, “Neteyam’s a virgin and I don't date virgins,” she tried walking off but you trapped her, “so? Some would see this as plus!”

The girl laughed, “you think he’s the only boy who likes me? Older boys are begging for me [Y/n], and Neteyam isn't even the one telling me, it’s you! So, you go tell lover boy i’m uninterested!” with that, she yanked her hand back and walked off.

Neteyam sat waiting for you, he lit up when he noticed your figure appearing, “[Y/n]!” you gave him a sad smile, “what?” he looked at you nervous.

“I spoke to the girl you liked,” Neteyam’s eyes widen, he didn't think you’d take it this far. “What did she say?” this lie was digging a big hole and he didn't know how to get out. “Well, she doesn't like you!”

You tried sounding happy maybe this happiness could rub onto him, “really?” he tried sounding sad, but he couldn't give a crap if she did, “yea she doesn't like you but who cares, right?”

Neteyam wasn't thinking about the girl, he was thinking about you. How he wished you could love him even a fraction of the way he loves you, “I guess,” he sounded sad, too sad for your liking.

I mean he was your best friend, your crush, your literal reason for smiling, you understood you probably weren't ever going to date him. I mean How many people date their childhood friends?

You were okay with watching Neteyam be happy with another girl, even if you were on the sidelines, you just wanted him happy.

“Well, thanks for letting me know [Y/n],” Neteyam went to walk but before you even understood what you were doing, you grabbed his shoulders and kissed him.

Neteyam’s body reacted quickly grabbing you and deepening the kiss. His mouth tasted like heaven you kept yearning for more, trying to get closer like it was even possible. You quickly came to your senses pulling back from the boy, Neteyam tried getting closer wanting more but a smack on the cheek stopped him.

You hadn't known what possessed you to smack him maybe it was in the heat of the moment, but you quickly grabbed his braids bringing him closer, “you tell anyone about this and I will kick you in the balls.”

You let go and stormed off, Neteyam smiled he couldn't believe he kissed you, he palmed the hard-on under his loincloth, “fuck.” was all he could say.

Neteyam’s eyes followed you as you walked into the storage room. It had only been one day since you both kissed and he couldn't hold himself back.

Just the thought of you got him going, so it wasn't a shocker when he put something to make the makeshift door stay closed. You gasp as you heard his loud footsteps, clenching your heart when you saw it was him, “you scared me!”

You looked at him as he smiled, he was up to something you knew it. “What did she tell you?” you looked confused, “what?”

He smiled, “the girl yesterday, why doesn't she like me?” You kicked imaginary air as Neteyam walked closer. You didn't know why but his demeanor scared you, you walked back as he came closer, “she said you were inexperienced in bed!”

You blurted out as Neteyam had you pinned, Neteyam laughed, “she thinks I can't pleasure a woman?” you shrugged trying not to make eye contact, “maybe I should show her,” his hand traced your body, “I’ll leave a nice mark on your pretty little body.”

He picked you up like you were a doll, placed you on the table, and opened your legs. “Neteyam someone will see,” you tried reasoning but you knew it was futile. His hands groped you as he kissed you, “you know how I said I liked that girl?”

His hand played with your lion cloth, “I never liked her,” he found your clit causing a gasp to leave your throat, “I like you, [Y/n],” he went harder as his eyes bore into your face, “I like you so much I can hardly breathe, you make me so nervous.”

He stuck two fingers inside you, smiling as you let out a moan, “I like you so much it feels like I swallowed a rock whole,” he littered you with kisses, “teyem,” he went faster. You held onto his hand trying to slow him down, but he just went faster.

His other hand worked on your clit and he smiled as your eyes rolled back, “you make me calm, [Y/n] so calm.” he grabbed your chin forcing eye contact, “I love you, [Y/n].”

You felt yourself approaching, and Neteyam kissing you, and the words coming from his mouth were no help, “I’ll love you till I can't anymore.” you came falling backward as Neteyam finally slowed down, “Gorgeous.”

You tried catching your breath but Neteyam sat on the table and put you on his thigh, “ride me,” he said as you looked at him crazy,” he pinched your nipple, “I know you heard me.”

With the rest of your energy, you started moving, “teyem, please,” you didn't really know what you were begging for, but the way he was making you feel was electric. His fingers traced your skin as he laughed at you, “wonder what they say if they saw you, how you are getting off by my thigh.”

You hid your face in his shoulder but he quickly grabbed you, “keep looking at me, I wanna see how much I ruin you,” you struggled as you looked into his eyes. You wanted nothing more but to smack that shit-eating grin off his face.

“Aw poor little [Y/n] can't keep up, do you want me to help you?” you nodded but he just smacked your ass, a moan leaving your throat, “use your words.” he became serious, scaring you a small bit.

“Yes, please,” he smiled placing his hands on you and grinding you down, “ahh, much better! See it's always nice to have manners,” his thigh flenched, causing you to explode in pleasure.

The pleasure fogged your mind, you looked away for a second but it caused Neteyam to stop. His eyes became dark as he gripped your chin, “what did I say?”

You struggled in his grip, only just noticing how much stronger is he compared to you, “not to look away,” his other hand forced you to grind harder and faster as he played with your breast, “it seems my toy still needs some training,” you moaned as he squeezed hard at your nipple.

“Neteyam, slow down,” your mind was gone, you weren't even thinking anymore, “after today i’m going to break you, mold you into the perfect toy,” he smiled as he felt your pussy clench, you were near.

“You're going to become my bitch, and you're going to love it,” you nodded frantically, “yes, yes, please!” Neteyam smiled down at you as you came, “the perfect toy.”

You got off him, your legs shaking Neteyam kissed your head as you finally smiled at him. He noticed your cum dripping down your leg and took two fingers swiping it and tasting you, “Neteyam!” you took his hand trying to stop him but his other hand caught you.

“First thing, never deny me what's mine,” his hand snaked in between you again playing with your sensitive clit, “I will play with you whenever, wherever I want.”

“Okay,” you breathed out as you let him drag you out, “I love you,” you told him as you both walked, “I love you.” he kissed you once more.

***

HEYYYY GUYS! I’ve missed you, but guess what i’m about to go on holiday so I’ll be able to write so much more for you all! Hope you enjoy this!

#avatar way of water #neteyam #avatar loak #avatar #jake sully #neteyam x y/n #avatar neytiri #avatar tuk #neytiri #avatar smut #avatar neteyam #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam smut #protective neteyam #loak x reader

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angelltheninth · 6 months

Text

Done When I Say

Paring: Sasuke Uchiha x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, free use mention, sex to destress, overstimulation, rough sex, orgasm control, sex work, degradation, name-calling, Sasuke is an asshole but what else is new

Word count: 0.6k

A/N: Sasuke commission, god I hope this isn't too edgy and brooding. It's hard to write for him!

There was no doubt that he knew how to fuck you. With how many times he'd done so he'd learned every weak spot you had. A man like him would exploit them to his full benefit and pleasure, yours was just a bonus that he allowed to happen.

"Again." You heard his order from behind you coupled with the lightning fast smacking of his body against yours. "I'm not feel it. Didn't you hear me whore? Or did you lose your ability to understand words?" He doubled his efforts and pulled your ass a little higher, his cock at least reacting to the sight.

Feeling yourself get fucked by him was a weekly occurrence, it was routine, and so were your orgasms, happening when he deemed it necessary. "I just came. I'm still sore from it." You knew that didn't mean anything to him, he wasn't in the brothel to hear your excuses.

"Do you honestly think I care? I payed you to get fucked didn't I? I payed damn well. So you will do as I say and come around my cock." Sasuke's voice was almost deadly calm. If it weren't for him rutting into you and his cock pulsing with new waves of cum you wouldn't know if he felt good or not. Men like him were always tricky, but made you feel so good, which is why despite his attitude you looked forward to Sasuke's visits after training.

You let yourself go for him, focused on his hands, his cock, his balls slapping your clit, his cum trickling between your legs and onto the futon. The orgasm was borderline painful, ripped out of your sensitive pussyhole by him.

"Stop." The word bolted through your body so painfully. With great effort you forced your orgasm to stop, for your cunt to stop spasming around him.

"You're so cruel Sasuke." He hummed in response, if you could even call it such. He was already on the verge of ejaculation, your body responding so beautifully to him only spurred him on more.

"For someone who craves cock so much you have incredible self-control." That was as close to a compliment as Sasuke ever gave you. "Hold still, don't come." Two commands that he grunted out as he kept fucking his cock into you, the slaps echoing, probably heard by the other people in the brothel, maybe even in the street down below seeing as the window was open.

Your pussy gleefully took his thick, warm cum, as did your womb so happy that it's finally him who gets to claim it. "P-Plea-"

"Yes." That was the only word you needed to make your cunt pulse around his cock once again, finally finishing the orgasm that was interrupted before. Sasuke never moaned for you, he was fully silent even while he emptied himself inside of you, fucked you through it all and then pulled out to let the white mess spill out. "Fucking messy. Can't you even pretend not to be a free use slut? Used for the pleasure of any man who pays you." You were below him, but you served his needs so he didn't mind getting messy with you, "Close your legs, you're making it worse."

You let your body spread against the sheets and crossed your legs one over the other, your back and ass on full display for him.

"Hm. Some other time." You heard him mumble as he got dressed and tossed a coin purse beside you. "Extra. Don't ask why, just be grateful."

"O-Oh. Thank you. Thank you very much" If you had the strength you would have gotten up to greet him as he left. But you did meet his eyes right before he jumped through the window, the moonlight shining over his jet-black hair. It always looked so soft, you wondered if he'd let you touch him one of these days. He left with a nod and you were left there to catch your breath.

When you looked and counted the money you noticed there was indeed extra. More than enough to give you a break from work until he visited again next week.

#naruto x reader #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke uchiha x you #naruto imagines #sasuke uchiha imagine #naruto smut #sasuke uchiha smut #naruto fanfiction #sasuke uchiha fanfiction #sasuke x reader #sasuke x you #sasuke imagines #sasuke smut #sasuke fanfiction #smut blurb #smut drabble #x female reader

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chaoticlicense · 5 months

Text

Leaving It All Behind

Summary: During the victory celebration, you seek out Zevlor to tell him of your intention to leave behind the life you once knew.

Word Count: 1266

Tags: SFW, Zevlor, Elf Reader, AFAB Reader, Zevlor x Elf Reader, Zevlor x AFAB Reader, OC Based Reader, Non-Tav Reader, Second Person POV, Fluff, Cuteness

AO3

You find him at the edge of camp, standing barefoot where the sand meets the water. His boots have been discarded, placed neatly behind him against the rocks. Gentle waves lap against his bare feet, toes digging into the soft, wet sand. Zevlor’s head is turned to the sky when you approach, molten eyes watching the stars. There’s a small smile on his lips as he slowly turns his head from left to right, taking it all in. The celebration is still ongoing around you, tieflings and fellow druids (those who stood by the tieflings against Kagha) alike share in wine, ale and laughter. But you find yourself drawn to their leader who stands isolated from the rest.

As you come to stand at his side, you turn your head to the sky and join him in stargazing. The two of you gaze at the night sky for a while in comfortable silence until Zevlor turns his attention to you.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” he asks.

Oblivious to the way his eyes soften as he takes you in, you nod in agreement.

“Yes, they are. You must have missed the sight of them during your time in Avernus,” you muse. “I imagine there are no stars in the Hells.”

Zevlor hums. “None at all, I’m afraid. None like the ones here, at least.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the tiefling smile a little, molten eyes studying you.

“In truth,” he continues, “There was a time when I thought I would never see the stars again.”

Then, a warm, calloused hand grazes your own and your heart flutters.

You hadn’t known Zevlor for long, but from the moment he led his people to the Grove, you felt an undeniable connection between the two of you. As he came to Halsin seeking protection, seeking shelter against the chaos of the world around him, you knew in some way that you were destined to help him. Much to your fellow Druids’ dismay, you were always eager to help those in need no matter the cost. A flaw, Kagha said, a weakness. She turned her back on the tieflings the moment Halsin left in search of the Nightsong, but not you.

You defied her will by showing them kindness when no one else would. You rose early, before dawn, to hunt and gather food for them to ensure they remained full. The first time you brought venison already skinned and portioned to Zevlor, he stood before you speechless. In all your years, you had never watched someone as composed as he come close to tears.

He had taken the meat and the pelts with endless thanks that spanned days later.

And so you continued to support him and his people, supplying them with whatever the needed, regardless of Kagha’s cruelty towards you for it. This support led to a great deal of time spent with the older tiefling, time that brought you closer together. Close enough that you can’t help the warmth flooding through you at the slightest touch.

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating?” Zevlor asks after a while.

“Hm?”

“I thought you’d want to partake in the festivities after a well deserved victory.”

With a shrug, you fold your arms across your chest.

“I’ve had my fill for the evening. Too much wine and I’ll end up wildshaping into an owlbear, scaring off my newfound friends,” you say with a laugh.

Zevlor smiles at this. “That would be quite a sight.”

“For you, perhaps. But not, I think, for the rest of the camp.”

“You never know.”

Shaking your head, you hold his gaze as you share a moment of laughter.

“I have to ask,” he begins. “If you are done with the celebrations, why seek me out tonight? There are plenty of others more deserving of your attention than I.”

You’re not sure if you should be offended or flattered by his words. If not for the gentle tone of his voice, you might have wondered whether he enjoyed your company or wanted you to leave him be.

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Zevlor?” you tease.

The corner of his eyes wrinkle as he shakes his head and reaches a hand towards your face. He takes a strand of loose hair fallen from your updo and tucks it neatly behind your pointed ear.

“I would never do such a thing,” he says softly. “I just wanted to know why you’d spend your evening with an old tiefling like me when there is far more merriment to be had with the others.”

“You’re hardly old, Zevlor. Do you have any idea how old I am?”

“I wouldn’t dare to guess for fear of insulting you,” he laughs.

Rolling your eyes, you bump your shoulder against his playfully.

“Regardless, how I choose to spend my time and who I choose to spend my time with is my business. And tonight, I choose to spend my time with you. That is to say, if you’ll have me?”

Zevlor’s hand moves from your ear, fingers gently brushing against your cheek before his arm falls to his side once more.

“I most certainly will. In fact, I have come to welcome your company these past days.”

Heat floods your cheeks and you pray to Silvanus that he doesn’t notice.

“That is…a relief to hear, truly,” you say, a little breathless. “Then what I came to say to you will be much easier.”

His brows raise, interest piqued. “Oh?”

“I’ve decided that I want to come with you to Baldur’s Gate. I want to join you and your people and help you navigate the way forward. I know it won’t be easy but I know the path better than most. I can help you.”

“But…what about the Grove? What about your people?”

“They were never my people. Halsin brought me to the Emerald Grove when I was just an elfling. A child, in truth. A child who became as much of an outsider as any who came across them. If it weren’t for Halsin’s kindness, I would have been cast out by Kagha and her ilk.”

Your voice spits venom as you speak her name. The elf in question never truly accepted you into the Grove the way Halsin did. She could sense something in you that she distrusted. Something that drove her to all but ignore you these past several decades. In doing so, in showing her distrust, she brought about the same feeling in the others. Few of the other Druids trusted you after that.

“No,” you continue. “The Grove was never my home, and its people were never my people. I have wanted to leave it behind for some time but there was never a chance to do so before now. Before you. I have never felt more…wanted than I have by you, Zevlor. You and your people have shown me more kindness in the past tenday than the Druids have in the past ten years. The least I can do is repay you by helping you on your journey to the city.”

Zevlor is quiet. His eyes bore into your own as he considers your words. The flames of his irises seem to burn into you with such ferocity you think you might catch fire. Then he reaches for your hand. Fingers lace with yours as he pulls you a little closer.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?”

Sighing, relieved, you nod. “I know. That’s why I want to.”

“Then you will be the most welcome company on the journey ahead of us.”

All written content belongs to ©chaoticlicense // you do not have permission to use any of my works // do not repost or modify/edit // all content is written for adults by an adult // any characters unless stated otherwise, belong to their rightful owners.

#chaos writes #chaotic writing #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #zevlor #zevlor x reader #reader x zevlor #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #zevlor fanfiction #zevlor x reader fanfiction

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bonny-kookoo · 9 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 [Part 2]

Everyone sometimes needs that special push- that one good reason- to break out of old shells, walls and habits, and make that change.

Tags/Warnings: Non-Idol Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, former criminal!Jungkook, mentions of past neglect/abuse, reader has some pretty bad psychological problems (OCD, Anxiety, Selective mutism, hints at an eating disorder), hypersomnia, road to recovery, hurt and lots of comfort, angst, Jungkook has some problems with aggression and swears a lot, more TBA in future chapters

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: You can have early access to this and other selected fics on my Patreon!

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It's right where he thought it might be.

You're basically drowning in the fabric of his sweater, but he's also never seen you so visibly calm during sleep. He can't even be mad about it- even though he usually does get rather irritated about his own clothes being taken by others.

He hates it. But for some reason, if it's you, he doesn't mind.

In fact, he's got to admit that you look cute like this. "We'll take a small walk to the park with the dog hybrids today. They need their time outside." Hana informs him as he puts the card hanging from the red string around his neck, so staff knows who he is. "They're all ready at the front, so you can go and check in with Yoha." Jungkook furrows his brows.

"What about her?" he asks, pointing to you who's still napping in the corner you're usually found in.

"She doesn't tag along." Hana says, as if he should know that. "She's not mentally fit for trips like that."

"I mean, on paper." Jungkook says, almost scoffing. "But like, did you ask her?"

"No, because she never comes along." She says rather defensively now. "Jungkook please, we know her better than you. Just stay here if you don't want to come along, but don't try and lecture me or anyone else here who's worked with her and other hybrids for years." She scolds.

But it seems like she doesn't know Jungkook.

Walking over to you, he's careful not to touch you, well aware that it could freak you out especially if you're asleep.

Doesn't know you, he scoffs to himself. He knows you better than her it seems, that's for sure.

"Hey." he tries, but you're sleeping too deep. "Hey, puppy. Wake up." he demands again, and now he can notice your ears moving, eyes opening after a few seconds, until his eyes widen at the sigh. You're smiling. Your tail is wagging.

You look genuinely happy.

"Hey there." he says, unable to hide his own smile either. "Hana said we're going to the park. You wanna come along?" he wonders, and he can see for a second that you're hesitating. "It's okay if you don't. No hard feelings. Just thought, you know, I should ask." he adds on, when you slowly sit up, playing with the strings of your sweatpants.

Then, you point at your shoes.

"Oh fuck, yeah, I forgot!" he shoots up, running to his bag where he pulls out another plastic bag, before running back to you. "I bought them a size smaller cause those you have seemed to big, but if you wear like, I don't know, socks or some shit in them they might fit." he explains, before pulling out some slip-in chelsea boots with almost no heel. Your eyes are like dinner plates at the sight. "Would be a good chance to try them out, no?" he wonders, nodding towards the small crowd of dog hybrids at the front, Yoha already counting everyone it seems.

So much for 'she doesn't ever come along', he angrily thinks.

And then, you pull on his sweater to get his attention. "Hm?" he wonders, just for you to hesitantly grab his sleeve. "I'll stay with you if that's what you're scared of. And we can go back at any moment." he reassures.

And that's what seems to make it work for you, because you move to slip into your new boots, before you get up and grab your coat from the hangers close by. He wants to say something to the staff-

But he composes himself, bringing you along to the front where Yoha and Hana already wait.

"Here." Hana says, giving him a yellow reflective.. Leash? "It's mandatory for her. I'm sorry, but without it-"

"Yeah yeah fucking protocol crap, I know." he grumbles more or less to himself, snatching the leash from her hands before he carefully clips it onto your collar. He cringes at the sight, hates it, and he hates it even more that somewhere in the backside of the logical part in his brain, he understands it.

He also comforts himself with the fact that you seem perfectly fine with the arrangement. It gives you a sense of security, equal as if holding onto his hand but without physical contact. You're skittish, still very much scared, but walking close to him seems to calm you down enough to make it work.

He didn't think you'd genuinely play at the park like the others do, and you don't- but that's fine.

The fact that you're here, that you're outside and at least attempting to find your way back into life away from your little bubble you've created shows him that you're not a lost case at all. A bit of work, and you could surely be adopted by someone nice who looks past all those issues. But somehow, the thought of you living with someone else makes him upset.

He knows he's not a good fit for someone like you.

He's talked to his best friend about it the night prior. It's a lot of responsibility already to live with a regular hybrid- but you're special needs. And considering his past mistakes and criminal record, there's simply no way to file for emotional support or therapy assistance.

It's beginning to rain a little, and he throws the hood of his sweater over his head before making sure your jacket is zipped up properly as well- like second nature.

You've noticed this before as well. He looks scary, with his piercings and tattoos and bold body and angry gaze. But he only looks that way. He's like a guard dog for you; a protector, because with him at your side nothing bad will ever happen. He's nice, a bit rough, but always friendly in his own way.

You like him.

Meanwhile Jungkook himself can't see what you see in him.

He's not the right person for you.

Next to him, you're perfectly content with your situation. Your tail is wagging sometimes in shared excitement when the hybrids in sight throw and catch a ball, but you also don't look like you actively want to participate. Watching seems to be more than enough, though you do check in if he's still next to you, tail wagging eagerly when he responds with a short smile your way.

He's not the right person for you, and he knows this.

When you walk back, he can feel your fingers grabbing the edge of his sleeve tightly, weighing his arm down a little. He notices the way his skin brushes against your fingers every now and then- feels how you do not react anymore, at all. There's a small moment of pure bravery, the sight of a road ahead, and the view of every hybrid standing in pairs holding hands that leads you to carefully slip your fingers between his. He quietly responds, holding your cold hand in his warmer one, thumb running circles over the soft back of your palm.

He knows he's not the right person for you.

But he wants to be.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #hybrid jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reade #bts jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines

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owlespresso · 7 months

Text

Wrangle. Jing Yuan.

Tags: yandere themes, dark content, abuse of power, mother hen Jing Yuan, forced caretaking

You hate Jing Yuan.

He is at the helm of the Xianxhou, their beloved general. What he does with you should be considered treasonous, looked down on by his peers. Reviled by his subjects. He should leave you in the depths of the Shackling Prison to rot like the petty criminal you are.

But he does not. He pries you from your cell (pries you away the ironclad grip you have on your cot, finger-by-finger), heaves your scraggly body into his arms like you weigh nothing. You struggle, but it’s pathetic. A few days of continuous hunger has robbed you of your strength. It makes it all too easy for him to carry you down long corridors and up flights of stairs, branching and seemingly endless.

The first rays of sun you have seen since your capture make you cringe. You turn your face into his shoulder, breathe the scent of freshly washed linen and armor polish. He chuckles, the sound deep and warm.

Jing Yuan brings you home, to a sprawling estate behind carved walls of stone. The sound of the gates shutting sends you into another fit, beginning to wriggle in his arms. He’s brought you here to be his pet, his slave, his toy—he’s going to do horrible things to you here, away from the prying eyes of the populace where no one will hear you. No one will help you.

“Please—I have no intent to harm you—” Jing Yuan attempts to bargain. He thrusts you away from his (strong, big) body, hands hooked under your arms. You shout and continue to wriggle.

“Stop, stop, please stop—just let me go—” someone is speaking, and you don’t even realize it’s you until your throat throbs, dry with disuse. Is that what you sound like? After only a few days? The wind goes out of you and you slump, allowing him to draw you back into his grasp. He holds you close to his chest, one arm under your thighs and the other behind your back.

“It’s going to be alright,” he soothes, cooing indulgently. “I know the Shackling Prison gave you a poor first impression, and for that I apologize. I’ve given you no reason to trust my word alone… but no further harm will come to you while you are under my roof.”

You feel the rumble of his voice more than you hear it. You peek up at the estate proper from where you’ve buried your face into his shoulder. It’s bigger than anywhere you have ever lived. The kind of luxurious you have only seen on screens and rarely in magazines. Some civilizations have disregarded the printed word entirely. Distantly, you remember the smell of the newspaper, new ink on thin paper.

And then you fall asleep. Just like that. Tucked up against him.

When you wake, your skin is clean and your raggedy prison garb has been replaced by soft robes.

Jing Yuan reserves a level of generosity for you that you are not worth—greets you with painkillers and relief at seeing you awake in hand.

“It would be both a blatant waste and a moral crime to let you waste away in the Shackling Prison.” he tells you, and explains little else. If he had not intervened, you would have remained in prison until you rotted and died. The officials who run that steel fortress of pain and torment are far beneath his station. None care that the vaunted Jing Yuan has plucked one of their least wanted, least dangerous criminals from the nest. You are his ward, now, a protected person who is recuperating under his generous care.

Whether you want it or not. You don’t need his charity, you insist. You would rather die than depend on someone else’s handouts.

“Hm,” he said, not cold or enraged but disappointed. “Is that so? How unfortunate. I wonder what kind of life you have led to make you draw such a despondent conclusion. You don’t have to tell me—” he says hurriedly, as soon as he sees you open your mouth to reply.

I wasn’t going to, you think, pissed off. It’s probably for the better that he cut you off. You probably would have said something you regretted.

“Worry not. You will have plenty of time to adjust. And learn. For now, just focus on your recovery.”

There has to be something to it, you think. Something he wants. Some sort of trick he’s going to pull. Some deranged, awful thing he’s going to do that you will be powerless to stop.

The room he settles you in is too large and the bed is too comfortable. You sink into the cushiony mattress and stare at the yawning void of the chamber, convinced that he will come through those doors at any given moment to take what he’s wanted all along. You eat one meal a day at most, sleep for no more than four hours. Dreams and visions haunt you deep into the night—and in the dark is the only time you truly feel safe, sheltered and mothered by shadows.

It’s at night that Jing Yuan at last finds you. You scuttle from corner to corner to avoid his detection and fail miserably. He scoops you up easy, in an unsettling echo of when he first crossed your path. You bat at him and caterwaul and put up a fuss until you can’t any longer, energy sapped from your unfed form as he hauls you to another room—

There is no punishment. He pets at your hair and coos and runs his hand over your back as you sniffle and sob, wet his sleepshirt with your frustrated tears. Later, then, he feeds you by hand, and doesn’t let you leave his lap until you’ve cleaned your plate. It’s awful. It’s humiliating. He watches you take every bite and praises you ceaselessly whenever you swallow. You slump into his chest, more exhausted by the meal then anything that occurred prior.

You hate him. You hate him. You hate him.

He spends every meal with you. He explains the basic mechanics of qi, smiles indulgently when you bother to thoughtlessly slide a random piece forward. He gives you tips, fingers brushing over the back of your hand as he positions your pieces in example. You hardly pay any attention to the formation he’s showing you, knowing you’ll forget it within the hour. To his credit, he doesn’t object when you push yourself to your feet, declaring that this game of wits has tired you out for the evening. You return to your room and ball your hands into fists, punch your pillows because hitting the wall will inevitably attract his attention.

You hate him because he is so kind. You hate his clean hands and his warm arms and the low, coaxing timbre he uses whenever he talks to you, like you’re some scared, cornered animal.

You hate yourself more for how tempted you are to give in.

#jing yuan #jing yuan/reader #hsr/reader #honkai star rail/reader #yandere jing yuan #hungering for hsr #oz write

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digital-domain · 6 months

Note

HI HI🫡🫡

thinkin about the absolute loml gojo who hates fancy settings but goes to one anyway because he knew reader would be there😭 like he sees them all dressed up which is a rarity and can't take his eyes (or hands wink wonk) off them. i can just see reader having to scold him for being so touchy but he can't help it, its not like he cares about the eyes that might be watching them anyway lmao. but no cus he'd probably be whispering absolute FILTH into their ear😭

this is just a basic idea, add as much spice or anything else you want🤭🤭 ALSO I LOVE YOUR WRITING<3

Ahhhh thank you so much!! <3

I LOVED this prompt so much that it ended up wayy longer than I anticipated. Around 2k words I think?? I hope you enjoy :)

Content tags: hmm I’d say suggestive but not nsfw? But Gojo is being a menace. In the best way possible.

An art gallery. Who the fuck wants to spend a Friday night at an art gallery? You, apparently. Enough to turn down Gojo’s generous invitation to a much less pretentious, much less obnoxiously-well-lit bar in the center of the downtown entertainment district. It would have been fun, pulling you out onto the floor, convincing you to dance for what he can only assume would be the first time in your life. If you’d ever experienced it, you would have gone with him. Instead, he’s here, surrounded by sculptures which seem to depict nothing in particular, searching for you in the crowd. He can’t really be mad at you for turning him down tonight. Apparently, you’ve had these plans for months - you’re friends with the artist-of-honor, or whatever you call it. He wasn’t really paying attention to the specifics. And he’s not paying attention to the art, either. The promise of free wine intrigued him, though - if only he could find a server.

There’s a dress code, too. Suits only for men (or tuxes, but he doesn’t own one of those). The one he’s got on is light blue, standing out among a sea of navy and black and grey. He absently wonders what you would have worn if you’d gone clubbing with him instead - he’s imagining a short, black dress, or maybe a sparkly one, or jeans with one of those tops that seem to just be bras in disguise. He’s never seen you show off that much, but it’s fun to picture. Maybe there’s something to that idea of “leaving things to the imagination.” When it comes to you, he has a vivid one. A sly grin creeps over his face as he thinks of what might have happened tonight - flashing lights, dark corners, a dense crowd pressing the two of you together. Inevitably. Finally. In the most technical sense, you’re still just a “friend from work,” but you both know it’s more than that. He’s not exactly the subtle type. He’s been flirting hard for weeks - and you’ve flirted back. Even almost kissed him once or twice. You’re just a little bit shyer about things than he is. A little bit scared. It’s always “Someone could see us!” Or even worse: “We can’t. It’ll make things too complicated.” Always with a strange mixture of fear and excitement in your voice. You’re at least as interested as you are intimidated – it’s not an uncommon reaction. And he hasn’t pushed you too hard. He’s been holding back. But then again…so have you. And tonight could have been just the opportunity you both needed. In fact - it still could…

His moment of self-indulgence is broken when he checks his phone. He’d texted you a full five minutes ago ( “surprise! I’m here. Come find me ;)” ) and you still haven’t responded. Perhaps you’re simply enraptured by the weird little metal ornaments around you. Or maybe - no. There’s no way you’re purposely ignoring him. He put on a suit for you. And a matching tie. And flirted with the girl at the front table so he could get in without an invitation…

Hm. Maybe you’d seen that. It wasn’t his best performance - but he was here! The methods, in this case, totally justified the means.

He scans the room for you again. You shouldn’t be hard to find - he towers over the people around him. Over in the corner, maybe? Pressed up against a wall…

Oh. There you are.

He almost didn’t recognize you at first - he hadn’t expected that little black dress he’d been imagining to become a reality. Especially not here, where most of the women he’d seen were wearing long dresses or jumpsuits or blazer sets. It’s form-fitting, short, and two little shoulder straps are all that’s keeping it on. You stand out - and just like that, the little bit of self-control he had left is gone. You need encouragement? He’s going to give it to you. He zips across the room, almost knocking over that server he’d been searching for moments earlier, then doubling back to pick up two plastic glasses of red wine. He sidles up behind you, wrapping his arm all the way around your bare shoulder, and proudly holds one of them up to your face.

****

Oh no.

You decided weeks ago that you weren’t going to do this. Not with him. As soon as his hand first not-so-accidentally brushed up against yours, as soon as he made his intentions clear – you’d made up your mind. Getting…involved…with Gojo Satoru would be a huge risk. He’s simply too strong. Too complicated. Too much. In terms of power, personality - everything. Everyone wants a piece of him, everyone’s watching him, and you don’t want those same pairs of eyes falling upon you. You can flirt back – sometimes, it’s impossible not to – but that’s it. It’s just simple fun. A diversion. It’s going to create issues if it becomes anything more.

However. You’ve been playing these little games for weeks, and you just find yourself getting closer and closer. And now, he’s here.

You whip around at the sudden appearance of Gojo’s hand, nearly knocking the contents of the glass in front of you to the floor. You’re aware that you’re staring. But you can’t exactly look away. He’s here, standing before you, for absolutely good reason. Although…no. You’re sure that in his mind, it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do. But only because he’s a little bit insane.

He grins shamelessly, and casually sets the wine on a nearby display shelf, dinging the rims of the two cups against the sheer pane of glass. “Haven’t you been checking your phone?”

“No.” You shake your head, eyes wide in disbelief. “How did you even…never mind. I don’t wanna know.” His smile only grows as you narrow your eyes at him. “Why are you here?”

“I’ve developed a sudden appreciation for modern art.” He bites his lip, looks you up and down, bright blue eyes flashing over you. “Especially the kind that wears dresses like that one.”

“Satoru…” you sigh. Although you’re not unaffected by the compliment, you know you have to resist a little bit - he’ll pounce if you give him an opening. But he’s so over-the-top that it’s hard not to be impressed at his efforts. And, you have to admit - he looks incredible in formalwear. “You are…a complete menace.”

“Impossible.” He gestures down at himself. “Look at me. I’m very classy.”

You roll your eyes. “Only on the outside.”

“I wanna go outside.” He dramatically loosens his tie. “It’s hot in here.”

He’s ridiculous. The farthest thing from classy - or subtle. “No. It’s really not.”

“Well, of course you’re cold. You’re barely wearing anyth-“

“Satoru!”

He shrugs. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Maybe not.” There’s a pause.

Within that pause, you struggle to force your brain back to rationality. And you fail terribly.

He points to your shoulder. “You know that strap is slipping?” You look down, and in the split second that your eyes leave his face, he darts forward to “fix it” - you’ll never really know whether it actually needed fixing. You take a step backwards, shaken out of your thoughts, caught off guard by the sudden movement. In your surprise, you nearly trip - and he catches you by the waist. The most humiliating thing is how he has to lean down to murmur in your ear, smirking all the while.

“Sorry. Didn’t realize I was gonna sweep you off your feet.” He loosens his grip - giving you an out, perhaps - but you don’t pull away. He’s never touched you like this before, never been quite so blatant, and despite the setting, you can’t help but enjoy the attention. Even as you’re embarrassed by it. Maybe that’s the real humiliation - the fact that you can’t get yourself to resist him, as much as you might want to. As much as you really should.

He’s encouraged by your reaction, and presses on: “I’m just lookin’ out for you. Did you even read the dress code?”

“It’s a dress,” you protest, already feeling the warmth spreading over your face. He’s so infuriating. And obnoxiously pretty. His eyes are even more beautiful when brought out by the blue of his suit, his body even more distracting when it’s inches away from you. He even smells good. It’s beyond irritating. “Dresses are formal. Therefore - I’m dressed formally. It’s not like I had a ton of options in my closet. I wasn’t gonna go out and buy something new -“

“Sure.” You know you sound flustered, and he clearly thinks it’s adorable. It always seems to happen so easily. And he wants more of it. He tightens his hold on your waist and drags his hand up the outside of your thigh, all the way up to the bottom of your dress, eyes flashing mischievously as you squirm at his touch. “Didn’t realize formal could be so sexy.”

You can’t respond to that - it’s far, far too dangerous. Instead, you glance around the room, suddenly very aware of the people around you - a lot of them are doing more than glancing as they pass by. “You’re making people stare.”

“Me? Pretty sure it’s you doing that.” One finger slips under the hemline of your skirt, his nail scratching slightly against your skin. He presses his lips to your ear, his voice barely a whisper. “You wearin’ anything under here?”

Your face is burning now, and you’re sure he can tell. “Yes.”

“Yeah? Cuz I don’t feel anything.”

“No shorts…just…” You realize what you’re telling him, and force yourself to shut up. “Fuck you.”

“If you insist.”

“Clever.” You’re torn. Half of you wants to slap him. The other half…well. You’ve been holding back the other half for a very long time. And you’re getting tired of it.

“Aren’t I?” There’s that grin again - the one that’s been flashing through your mind more than you’d like to admit in the past few weeks. “You should’ve come out with me tonight. This behavior would draw a lot less attention where I wanted to go.”

“If you’re concerned about that, you could just…” You squirm. “Y’know. Let go of me.”

“But do you really want me to?”

This is your last chance. You could say yes. Probably should. But it would be a complete and utter lie. And those eyes…they make all of your worries so easy to forget.

“Mhmm. That’s what I thought.” His hand brushes over your jaw, tilting your face, insisting that you meet his gaze. “I’m not concerned. About them, or about…anything else.” In that moment, you feel like his eyes are piercing you. He understands perfectly. He’s read your mind. “You’re gonna be just fine. And if you’re still not sure of that…that just means I need to try harder to convince you.”

You look up at him, anticipating his next move even as you ask: “What does that mean?”

“Well…”

He leans in.

Oh god.

He leans in and kisses you.

And your mind goes blank.

You kiss him back, and pay no mind as his hand slides under the skirt of your dress.

Okay. Maybe not no mind. But you certainly don’t mind. Not even a little.

Your eyes flutter closed, blocking out your surroundings. People are definitely staring, but in the moment, you suddenly can’t bring yourself to care. You’ll worry about everything else in the morning. For now…

He pulls back, hands still locked around your waist, your upper thigh, a palpably hungry look in his eyes. “You still mad at me for showin’ up?”

One more chance to walk away – but he knows you won’t. Your answer is obvious, but you spell it out anyways. He wants to hear you say it. “No. I’m glad you did.”

“Mhm. And…” He nips at your ear, his fingernails digging into your leg, the smirk broadening on his face. ‘’You wanna come with me when I leave?”

You quickly nod, breathless. “Yes.”

“Good. Because I wasn’t planning on sticking around here for long.” He sighs dramatically, breathing deeply into your hair. “And I would hate to leave you all alone.”

Again – ridiculous. Infuriating. And…impossible to turn down. It’s all you can do to stay upright, and follow him to the door, his hand laced tightly between your fingers, arm still wrapped around your waist. You forget about your coat, too – it’s still in the backroom somewhere. Maybe you’ll make him go get it for you in the morning. But you don’t want to think about the morning just yet.

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo

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