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bearsbeetsbeskar · 4 months

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Din Djarin cock worship drabble (din djarin x you)

pairing: din djarin x f!reader warnings: 18+ MDNI, explicit descriptions of smut, (assumed age gap maybe???), the armour stays on except for when din eats pussy (which is 24/7 in this universe), overstimulation wc: 1.4K a/n: hello lovelies, this is just a part of something that has been cooking in my brain for the last week. I was ignoring my schoolwork and other responsibilities as usual and rewatching mando, and just thinking about how that modulated rasp makes me melt, and how I would give anything to tie Din Djarin up and suck the soul out of him to hear those moans. that man deserves his cock to be worshipped, and I think about that on the daily tbh . this is unfinished but i hope to complete it this weekend!

Impenetrable beskar steel forged under sweltering heat that could rival Tattooine’s binary suns. Stealthy, calculated, choreographed skills of a warrior, so innate to his being, an exoskeleton similar to the armour he wore. An unshakeable creed that represented devotion, honour, humility, and strength.

Powerful, weathered strength. Strength that shouldered hundreds of bounties, countless days of survival in the harshest planets, and so many physical injuries he’s lost count at this point.

Din Djarin was a humble man. He never boasted his abilities or displayed a cocky nature. He had no reason to. Growing up in the covert, competing drills and sparring with other Mandalorians, he let his combat skills speak for himself as opposed to his words. Din would never deny his strength however. He knew he was strong, despite his age, and despite the aches and pains that permeated his body after each hunt. It was a quality that he could always pride himself on- at least that’s what he thought up until this point. Until he met you.

It turns out the stoic facade of strength that the hardened warrior so heavily relied on, crumbled the instant you could get your hands on him. Well, your hands and your mouth.

Nearly 3 months had passed since you joined the mandalorian And the child. Three months since you offered your skills to help him with his bounties and take care of the child when he was off on his hunts. 3 months since your relationship progressed from just ship mates and acquaintances coexisting in solitude and monosyllabic answers, to partners that shared each others bed every night. A cacophony of grunts and deep groans to catch your breathless whimpers and keening whines filling the hull of the razor crest.

You soon learned how much of a pleasure dom that mando was. Well, Din to you, now that he had entrusted you with his name. Once he learned what made you tick, what made you scream out his name as your eyes rolled into the back of your skull, he was fucking insatiable.

Most nights he wouldn’t fuck you until he made you cum on his tongue or his fingers at least twice. And even then you’d be a mess. Squirming and sobbing as you pushed his head off your dripping sensitive cunt. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, you could feel the heat rolling off his broad body as he caged you against the bed.

“It’s okay, you can take it cyar’ika,” he would coo at you as he fed his thick cock into your warm wet heat. “Need this tight pussy nice and wet before I stretch you out on my cock.”

You never lasted long, your orgasm crashing over you as you pulse around his length, writhing into the bed sheets.

He reveled in being able to take you apart. Pushing you to the limits of your pleasure that it almost became painful. He fed off of it.

It was rare however, that Din ever let you return the favor. Whenever you attempted to take him into your mouth, to show him your desire and appreciation, he would bat your hands away. Or he would only let you taste him for a minute or two before he’d manhandle you back onto the bed, legs spread by his massive palms, as he beheld you like a deity he wanted to worship over several lifetimes. His ferocity to have you usually outweighed his usual firm patience.

You doubted that you were bad at giving head or that he didn’t enjoy it. Din was vocal, that much you were surprised to learn. As vocal as that modulator in his helmet would allow. Nothing rivaled the groans and curses you were rewarded with as you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, eyes never straining from the T of his visor, taking him deep in your mouth, sucking on the head. You could only bask in the glow of his praise and delicious sounds for so long before Din became impatient and hauled you off his cock, the desire to be deep inside your warm wet heat his sole focus. “Need to have you now meshla,” he groaned, “can’t fucking wait any longer.”

Tonight would be different, you thought to yourself earlier that day as you watched Din stroll down the ramp of the Razorcrest, eager to begin his hunt for the next quarry. You had landed on Trandosha near dawn, and while the lush landscape of the planet appeared inviting Din had made it clear that you and the child couldn’t explore while he was gone.

“The quarry hasn’t exactly been covert about laying low, so it shouldn’t take long to track him down.” He explained as he restocked his munition and triple checked his weapons.

Something about the methodical, almost choreographed manner in the way he loaded the pulse rifle bullets in his bandolier, reloaded his blaster, secured his vibroblade on the inside of his boot made you ridiculously horny. Watching the weathered faded leather of his gloves, caress the barrel of the rifle, mold around the handle of the blaster, those same gloves that molded to the curves of your body. You felt your throat go dry as he kept talking.

“Are you listening cyar’ika?”

Two leather clad fingers settled underneath your chin, urging it upwards to meet his visor.

“Huh?”

His helmet tilted to the side ever so slightly as he appraised your glossed over gaze, not before letting out one of those deep sighs that you had come to know and love.

“No leaving the ship while I’m gone, under any circumstances. Got it?” The fingers under your chin shifted as his hand curled around the nape of your neck, thumb rubbing gently over your jaw.

“Trandosha may be a decent planet but Trandoshans are ruthless hunters, and they wouldn’t miss an opportunity to capture a sweet thing like you, or the child.”

The thought didn’t scare you. Having been around Trandoshans before, you knew they were cunning hunters, but the large reptilian species were slow on foot and clumsy with weaponry. They were nothing in comparison to Din’s prowess and perfected combat skills.

Humming in response, you walk your fingers up the cool beskar of his chest plate, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Good thing I am traveling with one of the most ruthless and equally feared bounty hunters in the galaxy hmm?”

Burying your fingers in the curls peeking out from underneath his helmet and tugging slightly, you reveled in the shaky exhale he let out.

He leaned down, resting the forehead of his helmet against yours. A quiet rumble leaving the depths of his broad chest.

“Ruthless huh?” His strong arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against his broad body. You basked in the warmth emanating off his armour. While he appeared a mountain of metal, it sent a thrill through you upon feeling the humanity coursing through his body, the life exuding from underneath his beskar shell.

“Yes Din.” You replied with a smirk as you arched your back, smushing your breasts against the cool, hard angles of the chest plate.

“Ruthless in catching your bounties, ruthless in destroying your enemies,” you look up at him from under your lashes, “ruthless when you fuck my pussy and make me cum so many times I lost count.”

He lets out a noise, between a groan and a growl, as his hands slithered down to grip your ass, tightly cupping your ass cheeks, trying to pull you impossibly closer than you already were. It wasn’t enough to be pressed up against you, he needed to be inside you. That much was evident as you felt the hard outline of his cock, nudging against your lower belly.

“Damn fucking right I am. That tight little pussy is mine.”

It was your turn to shiver as your eyes fell shut and you bit your lip. Stars, the power that this man had over you. How he was able to make you fall apart with just his words, that filthy fucking mouth hidden underneath his unreadable halo of steel.

He leaned down till the helm of his helmet was beside your ear. “No leaving the ship,” he repeated in that delicious rasp. “I’ll be back soon okay?”

Little did Din know the surprise you had in store for him later.

#din djarin smut #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin drabble #i need him so bad #i need this man of metal to crumble underneath my tongue #and the armour stays on ofc #my 'drabble is over 1k' what a joke #idk what drabble is clearly

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poinsettia89 · 2 years

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RP Scenario 2

Scenario: Angels and demons, reverse morality, and, of course, preg. I'm writing this with m/f pronouns currently, but I'm open to any gender for these concepts (not looking for mpreg though, thank you!)

After being discovered and taken in by an angelic creature, a woman develops feelings for him. They start a relationship, and after a few months, she finds out she's pregnant. Believing the angel to be genuine, charming, and kind, she's thrilled about the development despite any fears of complications or pregnancy.

However, as she nears her due date, things start getting more and more suspicious. Others who know of the angel are beginning to become more intense and rabid in their following, planning out massive events and doing dangerous things in their worship. The angel switches between lavishing her with attention, or lashing out, or ignoring her entirely for the most part.

In her loneliness, she begins spending time with a creature that the angel has locked up and silenced- a demon. He is displayed as a trophy for the cult, but she pities him. After unsuccessfully trying to convince the angel to let him go and free him, she starts spending time with him, bringing him trinkets, food, and other things to help him feel less lonely. They find ways to communicate without words, like sign language, writing, or drawing. The two develop feelings for one another, but given the situation, and her attachment to the angel, neither can act on it or admit it. She begins confiding in him about her own loneliness and her nerves about what's going on, but he's stopped before he can tell her what he thinks is really happening with the angel. When the demon's imprisonment guards find out he's trying to warn her, they no longer let her return.

In the last bit of her pregnancy, she finally discovers the truth- her angel has other plans than what he told her. She is to be a sacrifice, and her child is to be a cult leader for his followers to spread his power. Horrified at this, and not wanting her child to be doomed to such a fate, she attempts to escape. She's quickly discovered, leading to her near-capture as she suffers at the hands of the cult.

However, she's saved by the demon, who was given time to break out in the chaos of her escape. The two hurry to freedom, traveling to a small town and looking for other demons. No longer under the control of the angel, and far enough away to be safe, he's finally able to explain to her that the angels are not what they seem. He and a small group of demons are attempting to make sure that the angels stop targeting vulnerable creatures, including other demons and humans. These cults are becoming incredibly dangerous. However, he promises to keep her safe, and she swears to do the same for him. The two are finally free to act on their feelings and be together, but the threat of the cult and an angel missing his prize loom on the horizon.

#birth rp #birth roleplay #labor rp #labor roleplay #pregnancy rp #pregnancy roleplay #preg rp #poinsettia's rambles #poinsettia's rp prompts #I'm open to ideas about what the labor/birth should entail #I mean clearly that's what I prefer to focus on #but a good backdrop is essential LMFAO #and maybe these two end up having another #since he isn't human i'm picturing a sort of rapid-ish (a couple months) preg situation with plenty of complications and struggle #as much as i love preg i live for the labor and birth a lot more #tension! romance! hurt/comfort! ramping up the feelings and the stakes!#i do love the build-up of preg though #so like... some drabbles of moments throughout the pregnancy and then a good birth and labor are *chef kiss*#ALSO I don't particularly care if anyone reblogs these??? I mean idk why you would but if you like it #sure #go ahead #I mean if anyone wants to write this hit me the fuck up LMAO

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bapydemonprincess · 2 years

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To judge a rose by it’s thorns

Lau may not be able to show it openly all the time, especially in their society, where only the fair ladies of Great Britain can vocalize their love, but he adores flowers of many kinds. Blue hues to purple hues to pink hues to pure white-- Only of course his dearest, closest companion Ran Mao knows of his joy upon seeing them decorate homes and offices and outside buildings, in every window they stroll by in the districts where the local English live.

But in due time, after certain affections are made known between the supposed “ruthless” Chinese Crime Boss and the Phantomhive Manor’s lone Chef, bushels of flowers are sent to the Opium Den at least once or twice a month.

They certainly look familiar too..

Like the gloriously radiant plethora of flowers the Phantomhive Gardens themselves have.

Funny... but, the Lau assumed Master Cook didn’t see much in those elegant types of things either..

Not to mention it’s certainly not his job to look after them.

Hmmmmmm.

Perhaps Outsiders aren’t the only ones who shouldn’t judge a book-- especially an old, stained, ripped and torn book --by it’s cover.

#my writing #drabble #kuroshitsuji #Bard #Bardroy #Lau #bardlau #I love sort of carefully tip toeing around them by not writing them directly interacting but clearly there's something there #>:3 #if that wasn't obvious #Also uhhh it's up to anyone what types of flowers Bard sent idk #I'm no expert or studier on flowers and symbolism #unfortunately

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wintaerbaer · 3 months

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bottle up old love (jjk) (m)

summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

pairing: Jungkook x Reader

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff

word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)

prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)

warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol

MASTERLIST

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.

“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”

“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.

“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”

The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”

“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.

“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.

There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.

“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.

And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.

Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”

Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”

Then he spins and takes off running down the street.

Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.

“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.

He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”

“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”

“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”

“So I should be worried about you then?”

He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”

You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.

It’s how he broke up with you after all.

You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.

“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”

But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”

“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”

Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.

Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.

“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”

And you close the door in his face.

The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and cast away the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Not allow it to linger like the shadows at the edges of the room.

You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).

The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.

Or so you think.

After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.

And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.

Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.

Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.

“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.

“He might come back.”

“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”

He shrugs. “If I have to.”

“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”

He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”

You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”

“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”

If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”

Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.

Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.

“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.

There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.

Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.

You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.

“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.

You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.

“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.”

It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.

Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.

“I’m sorry.”

Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.

“What?”

He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”

You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.

“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”

Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”

“Yes.”

He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.

“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.

“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”

This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.

“So then why?”

He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.

The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.

“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”

It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.

Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.

“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”

You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.

“I don’t…I don’t understand.”

He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”

Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”

His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”

“No, shit.”

“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”

The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.

“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”

His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.

So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”

His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.

“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”

He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.

“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”

And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.

You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.

Speaking of.

The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you gloss over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.

“Beautiful,” you whisper.

“Just like you.”

You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.

“You left.”

“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”

“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”

“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”

And it’s all you need to hear.

You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso.

“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.

You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.

But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”

Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes

“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.

“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”

A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.

“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.

You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”

“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.

Like you said. Insane.

He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.

“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”

He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.

“Fuck, me neither.”

You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.

“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.

“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.

So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.

“You?”

It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?

You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”

This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”

A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.

“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”

“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.

“Ride me, baby.”

You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.

“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”

You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.

He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.

You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.

“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.

Hard.

You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.

It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.

The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.

“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.

“I missed you.”

You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”

He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”

“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”

A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”

“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.

“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”

a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fic #bts fanfic

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winterarmyy · 3 months

Text

Kiss It Better

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: In which the reader refused to let Bucky go down on her lately because she's embarrassed of the chafing marks on her inner thighs.

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.2k++

Warnings: 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, cum eating, soft fluff, not much of angst but there's sprinkles of feels, body insecurities, bucky is in love and in heat tbh, i think he is particularly unhinged and filthy in this one but hey, you tell me. idk if i need to remind y'all about this but english is not my first language so my grammar are prolly fucked. Anyway--

Inspiration: Guess who felt a little soft and decided to wear a skirt to work? Yup, that would be me. No, because I commute to work (or basically anywhere) and there is quite a distance of walking in between the journey. Note that your girl here walk fast asf (basically running at this point). And because them inner thighs ain't got no gap between them, so i got myself some blisters/chafing :') then i fell into a self-deprecating despair for the whole day and it hurts whenever i walk, at that time i just want Bucky to kiss it better. Fast forward a few days later, here we are.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

She could feel it. His burning gaze following her every move. Observing, calculating. And she knew that must not show any signs of discomfort; not on her face nor from the slightest jolts of her hips. She must not gave him a reason to question her.

She can't.

So she continue walking around their room, back and forth from the bathroom to the wardrobe, as if every step she took was followed by a burning sensation on her skin. She momentarily stood in front of the row of clothes hanging on the rack, her back facing the bed where Bucky had been sprawling on since she went in for a shower.

Honestly, she was standing there suspiciously 'too long', as if she was choosing an outfit for a date night, when clearly she was just getting ready for bed. When she realized that, she quickly pulled out a clean set of pyjamas and walk back into the bathroom.

Bucky's eagle eyes followed her figure, disappearing behind the locked door. His lips pursed as his cogs of thoughts spins around, trying to find answer a question that his lover keeps avoiding but it was useless.

He can't think straight. Especially when he was undeniably famished. He had not got a taste of her his sweet pussy for about 2 weeks now and he was quite literally about lose his fucking mind.

When his sweetgirl refuses to go further than kissing and making out, of course he obliged. She has every right to 'no' and he respects her wishes. Then it happened again the next day. And the next. Then again, and again.

Normally, people would've assumed that maybe she was on her period, and she is not comfortable having any sexual intimacy when menstruating. But, Bucky can tell that, that was not it. Because first of all, it was way too early for that time of the month, he knows her schedule.l very well. Second of all, he would've smell the blood if she was on her period.

Most of his senses are enhanced after all.

So, why was she avoiding it?

Bucky's is completely fine if sex was not something she wanted to do, but not even letting him eat her out? Now that's concerning. At least for him.

Because he needs her. He needs to suck on that needy little clit of hers, make it wet and swollen. He needs to lap on that sweet juices when she cums on his tongue.

Fuck. He's getting all work up now, thinking about it.

He swore that if this keeps going on, one of these days he might just spread his legs and fuck his fist on their bed while she's tied on a chair on the other side of the room. Maybe forcing her; seducing her, to watch his desperate cock become wet and messy would give her a clue of what he is feeling now.

Absolutely needy and deprived of that pretty little cunt of hers.

He was quite distracted with the filfthy thoughts until he heard the clicking sound of the bathroom door unlocked.

As she walked towards the bed, Bucky felt like his lungs stopped providing oxygen through his body, "Pretty." His eyes sparkled affection as the voice in his head echoed his thoughts. It wasn't that he have not seen her in those pyjamas before, he had. Many times in fact. The very same lavender set with tiny little cartoon cats printed all over the fabric.

The same ones that she wore when she came rushing to his side on one of those sleepless night. The time when she hold him close, distracting him away from the nightmare by asking the most random question of "You know, Bucky... These cats supposedly have the same expression, except for one. Do want to try and find it?"

He found it. It was near the hem of her right sleeve. And by that time, his nightmare was no where near his mind, the next thing he knew, he fell right back to sleep with her in his arms. It was his favourite pair of pyjamas that she ever worn. Nothing compares.

A loving smile unconsciously appeared on his face when his lady threw a sweet smile at him as she walked toward the bed, "My baby's so pretty." He thought.

The grin on his lips lasted, but not for long. Especially when he saw the tiny frown on her face, the faltered steps and when he heard that brief sound of a painful hiss slipped out of her lips.

So the moment she sat down on her side of the bed, Bucky already had his hands on her. Arms instantaneously wrapped around her waist, before effortlessly pulling her back onto his sturdy chest.

She giggled gleefully from his sudden rush of affection and that surely managed to trigger a chuckle out of Bucky. He hums and proceed to purr in crook of her neck, "What's wrong, baby?"

She could feel his throat rumbling at the back of her neck, "Did he notice it?". Her heart beat ever so slightly picked up its' pace but she planned to act like opposite of it, "Hmm? What do mean 'what's wrong'?" She asked.

Bucky can hear the change tempo coming from within her ribcage, he knew something was wrong, "I just want to know how are you feeling." He pressed a long and tender kiss on the shoulder.

The warmth of his breath tickled her skin, "Now? Hmm. I feel very loved." She smiled dreamily as she closes her eyes.

Bucky left out a brief laugh at her response, this cheeky little bunny, "That's true, but how are you really feeling, hmm? Like physically?" He urges softly.

She thought about it for awhile; contemplating whether she should just tell him the truth or proceed to act like she okay. Well, she chose the latter, "Hmmm physically. In this position? Very comfy." She wiggled her body back into him, closing the non-existent gap between their bodies and gripping Bucky's arms around her a little tight.

Though her plushy ass was rubbing against his crotch just nicely, but the former winter soldier was not going to let that distract him from his mission. He needs to know what she's hiding behind that sweet smile, "Doll..." his voice was stern and she knew he was not having it.

His calling was only met with silence when she didn't reply verbally. Since she was looking down, Bucky cannot see the frown on face and the wobbling worries in her eyes. But he did picked up on the anxiousness of her heart; beating faster by the second.

"I..." her voice cracked at the first word she said, and Bucky knew he fucked up. He swiftly maneuvered her body to sit on his lap, facing him. His metal hand craddled her soft cheek, and his flesh ones gently caresses her back, "Hey hey hey, doll, what's wrong? Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pressure you." His voice was laced with panic.

When she only had her gaze down, Bucky tenderly coaxed her, "Bunny, look at me." His hand guided her by the chin and when they made eye contact, he apologized again, "I'm sorry. I just want you to feel better. Forgive me." He leaned in a planted a kiss on her forehead. Then, her nose. And her cheeks, all over her face, muttering his words of apology.

She felt bad that Bucky apologized for something that was clearly not his fault. She's the problem in this situation. Her negativity, her insecurity was what drove her away from Bucky for the past 2 weeks. She knew that. And she knew it wasn't fair to him.

Knowing Bucky, he's probably blaming himself for her actions. And she didn't want that. She decided to tell him the truth, "I just..." Anxiety runs through her veins when she thought about it again. Would she be able to handle it if Bucky reacted negatively to her truth? Probably, not. "Just... promise that you won't be disgusted by it... Or get the ick from it."

Bucky frowned in confusion, "I don't even know what 'get the ick' means but I promise." He swore.

She let out a short laugh at his comment, causing him to smile along. Seeing how loving his gaze was, it gave her the strength to confess. She started with explaining how she had been busy at work this month. With launch of the new product, and her being one of th product manager, she was obligated to visit the branches around New York.

Bucky listened to words attentively, at first he thought maybe she was trying to say that she's been stressed lately. But then she started to explained about how she had been wearing skirts to work most of the days, because it was one of the their campaign's rules and Bucky does not think that 'stress' was what this would conclude to.

Nevertheless, he didn't lose his attention.

"But basically what I'm trying to say is..." She took a deep breath before continuing, "It's just... My inner thighs are chafed..." her voice was barely audible at the end of the sentence but Bucky caught it perfectly.

He thought about it for awhile before asking, "So, you mean to say that you got blisters on your inner thighs?" He wanted to confirm that his understanding was accurate.

She looked down in shame as she nodded to his question.

Bucky responded by pulling her closer, and kissed her forehead, "Aww doll. Is this why you've been avoiding me? Because it hurts? Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could've helped you. I mean I could help apply some meds or--"

Horrified at the idea of him seeing marks; the literal reminder of how fat she is caused her to blurt, "No!" She pushed Bucky away, eyes widen in horrid.

"No?" Bucky frowned quizzically at her intense reaction.

Realizing what she just had just done, she composed herself, and spoke, "It's... it's not a pretty sight. And I don't want to show it to you. Plus, if my thighs are a little thinner than they are now. Then, this wouldn't happen. If only these thighs are not like... fucking fat as they are we wouldn't have to go through this. And you wouldn't need to hear all this. You wouldn't---"

Bucky knew that once she was in the state of insecurity, she self-deprecate herself like she was less worthy than the goddesss that she is. So, instead of arguing with her, he simply intercepted her rambling, "Show me."

She stopped the seemingly endless word-vomit, and titled her head to the side, "Huh? No. Bucky I just said--"

Bucky grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly lifted her off his lap and onto the bed, caging her below him, "And I said... Show. Me." His tone was more like an order rather than a request.

She didn't dare to defy him, when his gaze was as rigid as they were now, so pulled her pants off; slowly, reluctantly. When the pants was at the last inches before it's completely off, Bucky took control and quite literally ripped it off from her.

The sudden action resulted to her body needing to hide itself from his darken eyes. Her thighs clammed together as a whine slipped from her lips. The friction of her wounds brushing against each other was burning her delicate skin.

Bucky quickly softens when he heard her pained voice, he pushed himself off from her and kneeled on the bed before her. "Doll, please..." His hands gently squeezes the side of her thighs as he pleads, "...Let me see."

Slowly spreading her thighs apart, Bucky's eyes are now focusing on the red marks on her skin. His thumbs absentmindedly traces the area around the broken skin. He was so concentrated that he didn't say a word. And that only triggered her insecurity that she started to rambled something about how she will start going in a diet and she'll add more intense leg workout in her routine.

But her voice was only a muffled strings of incoherent sounds in Bucky's ears when he finally processed everything that happened from 2 weeks ago until now.

The realization hit him like a high speed train with a broken break system. Did she really turned him down because of this? Did she really starve him out because of this? Bucky let out a growl of disapproval when he abruptly pulled her by her calves, forcing her hips to lift from the bed. She yelped in surprised but she saw the look on his face, "You..." he rasped.

Bucky placed her legs on his shoulders, letting it daggle on his back as he palmed sides of her thighs. He then, proceed to leave trails of kiss on her inner thigh, avoiding the irritating wounds on her skin, "You deprived me of my sweet little pussy because you think this..." he flattened his tongue and nibble on her softness of her inner thighs, "...would turn me off? That these thick, soft thighs that I love so much would bother me?"

He planted a delicate kiss on the marks before, "Well, guess what bunny?. You're absolute wrong. In fact, it's quite the opposite." His lips travelled upwards until it found her core. Bucky's nose flared at the scent of her arousal, "And oh my sweet babydoll, I'm going to eat your pussy until understand that. Then, I'm gonna do it some more because I am fucking starving." He pressed a firm kiss on her clothed pussy, causing the cotton to soak the juices that leaks from her hole.

"Look at that. Does your needy pussy wants some pampering too, hmm?" She could see the lust dripping down his ocean blues; the same ones that were usually bright but now were now noticeably darker.

Bucky's finger traces the slit of her pussy, rubbing her over the fabric of her panties, making patch of wetness spread even more. "Yeah? Does she want me to kiss it better? Make her feel good?"

She moaned softly to his touch, "Please."

That was all it took for Bucky to rip her panties apart as if it was made out of paper. "Fuck, there she is. My sweet pussy." He brought his fingers over, widened the folds of her pussy. Even with minimal lighting, it was enough to show him the glistening pink flesh of leaking cunt, twitching and needing his tongue to explore her insides.

He was hungry of course, just simply looking at her pussy had made his mouth water and impossible for him to resist the urge of putting his mouth on the pretty little thing. "Hmm,," a sharp cry escaped from her lips as he blew on her little twitching nub. There was this glint in his eyes as he watched her try to buck up, cunt helplessly clenching around nothing.

Before she could beg for him, Bucky's tongue dipped in between folds. Pointed at first, from the entrance of her pussy up to her clit. The tip of his tongue swirl around the aching nub. A breath caught in her throat when Bucky repeat the same move but this time he flattened his tongue.

And then he does it again and again.

Bucky, is generally the larger man compared to anyone. He is tall and beefy. But he is especially big when he's in between her legs, gently devouring her wet pussy. Slow and long licks were his favorite, it allowed him to savor the taste of her. Always so sweet and he couldn't get enough of it.

With every flick Bucky's tongue assulting to her swollen bud, she couldn’t help but pull on sheets behind her, needy moans leaves her lips every time he explored her, teases her. Her body cannot stay still when the pleasure was taking her higher. But it was not a problem for Bucky to control. Whenever she tries to close her thighs together, he stopped her. He didn't want to irritate her wounds or cause any pain, so he kept pushing her thigh open as he nuzzle his face into her pussy.

"Ahhh fuck ,, that feels so good, Bucky!" She moaned his name as the overwhelming feeling of his wet and soft tongue gliding and rubbing on her core, guiding her to heaven.

And the salacious squelching noises to fill the room as Bucky laps and sucks on her clit. She was so wet that he could just shove his fingers up in her hole but he didn't. He won't. After so many days not tasting her, he want to only use his mouth.

Though the man barely spoke during these times, he’d much rather keep his mouth occupied with drinking up her juices or suckling on her cute little clit. But when he does. Fuck. Does he spill the most unholy things.

Bucky momentarily detached himself from her and rasped, "Gonna cum, babydoll? Come on, give it to me. Let me drink and lick your cum after." His metal fingers quickly finds her clit, swiftly started to deliciously rub it; just the way he knew she liked it. It felt so good that her tongued lolled out her mouth out of pure pleasure.

"Yeah, bunny. You're gonna let me clean you up with tongue so nice, so that you can make the same mess again and again. Cum in mouth, babydoll. Cum for me"

He delved right back where is mouth belongs, licking her clit into his mouth just to wrap his lips around the pretty pink bundle of nerves sucking it harshly. She whined needily her hips started to move on its own accord, searching for more friction of his tongue, “ahh ahh! hmmmm,, s-so fucking good! ahhh,, So close!” she was seeing stars in her hazy vision from how good and dirty she felt.

Bucky's eyes almost rolled back when let out a groan of satisaction against her spread out cunt; he can feel that she was going to cum and want her to do it with his mouth latched on her.

And cum she did, moments after she couldn’t help but squeal as her back arched from the bed, grinding herself on his tongue. Bucky growled at the streams of cream squirting out of her throbbing cunt right into his mouth, down to his throat.

So sweet and warm and addictive.

While her whole body was still shaking from the aftermath of the mindblowing orgasm, Bucky continued to lick and lap on her leaking pussy, slurping and suckling every bit of cream she had blessed him with.

Yet he was still hungry.

She mewled when Bucky started to suck on her clit again and when she looked over at him, he momentarily pulled away, "oh doll, did you forget? I'm not going to stop any time soon. So just lay there, look pretty for me and let me enjoy this sweet little pussy."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Have you ever gotten your inner thighs chafed? Anyway, thanks for spending your time to reading my work! Leave your thoughts behind, I'd love to read them ♡

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky smut #bucky fluff #avenger!bucky #bucky x reader smut

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cofigelly · 7 months

Text

ೀ SIX EYES

——————————————————————————pairing; college au!gojo satoru x reader

synopsis; you couldn’t help but notice a pair of wandering eyes during your 10am lecture

word count; ~2k words

contents; sfw, f!reader, no curses au, rich college student gojo, cocky/playful gojo, six eye/infinity references

notes; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUICK LIL DRABBLE IDK WHAT HAPPENED? i <3 run ons and sentence fragments apparently

——————————————————————————

the first thing you noticed about him were his eyes.

well, technically, his eyes noticed you first.

in the midst of your monday 10am lecture (known for its lengthy, soul-wrenching talks about finance), you felt his sharp gaze pierce straight into your soul. it was a brief, quick glance — but it was an intentional glance, nonetheless.

you simply brushed it off. it must’ve been him zoning out, or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. that was until you caught him repeating the same habit again. and again. over the course of the next three weeks.

that same, hungry gaze, taking in every intricacy of your features. a look that felt like it set your entire body on fire, despite the icy blue hue his pupils reflected each time you returned a glance. his stare would only last a few seconds at most, but something about it felt so intense, so overbearing— it made hold your breath each time.

in all honesty, you didn't mind the attention. in fact, you kind of reveled in it — a handsome, 6'3 guy always ogling at you every lecture. it even had you thinking that maybe he was into you?

but that was at first. as more weeks passed, the more your ego shrank. 'is there something on my face,' you wondered, patting at your cheeks to search for some sort of makeup residue or food crumb, 'do i look stupid?' the large, echoey lecture hall felt evermore revealing as you struggled to find a way to shrink into your plastic-clad seat. but you couldn't hide, not from a stare like that.

paranoia getting the best of you, you slide your phone out of your pocket as you send a hasty text to your best friend, “bro who is this guy? he keeps staring at me EVERY lecture,” you send a 0.5x photo, clearly taken from afar.

just as quickly, your friend responds, “NO FUCKIN WAY is that gojo???” “who the fuck is gojo?”

you could almost feel her attitude burst through the text bubbles, “bro… GOJO. his family is literally loaded?? did you not see his dad surpass bill gates on the global ranking of billionaires?” that text takes you a little by surprise, alternating your eyes between him and the message upon your screen. “okay maybe it’s starting to sound familiar, but still. what’s he doing cosplaying as a broke college kid in my finance class?” you sigh as you continue to tap on your screen, “idgaf that he’s loaded it’s pissing me off that he’s staring at me like 🧿🫦🧿 every lecture.”

your friend reacts with a quick “haha” to your text before responding, “idk man maybe you just caught the attention of the richest guy on campus ;)”

you decided you’ve had enough after reading that text. you’re not about to feed your delusions this early on a monday morning. you’ll admit, he’s a good —no, stunning— looking guy, but you have no time to babysit a boy who was never taught that staring was rude. not to mention, this boy isn't even in the same tax bracket as you.

brushing it off yet another time, you let out a deep sigh as you flip the page, copying your professor’s notes on the board.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

a whole month has passed and this gojo guy is growing more and more cocky with his stolen glances. he's not even trying to hide it anymore.

this fateful wednesday, as you walk into class, he immediately locks onto you. his bright blue orbs follow you from the door to your row, not releasing his gaze in the slightest after you settle into your seat. your grit your teeth in annoyance as you flip through your notebook pages. who does this guy think he is? it’s been a month and he hasn’t even procured the balls to say a single word to you. yet, he’s feasting on you like you’re his final meal on death row.

the second the class is excused, you immediately beeline towards his seat — stopping in front of his leaning frame while he packs his bag. “dude, what the hell is your problem,” scowling at him as you approach, “i’ve seen you stare at me for weeks now and it’s getting straight creepy."

his ears perk at the sound of your voice, haphazardly zipping up the final pocket of his backpack. when he looks up, his eyes glint with a hint of mischief as he scrunches his nose in a grin — a grin that’s somehow even cockier than his stare.

“i’m just taking in the view, princess,” he jeers, delight in his tone.

you stare at him incredulously as you take his confession in. so he really has been staring at you? “for one, i’m not your princess," you scoff at his clear disregard of your concern, "second, you might want to think again before you decide to stare at me one more damn time.”

he hums amusingly, shaking his foot in a steady rhythm, “you’re right. i might think about it again.” his grin is even wider now, “why, what are you going to do about it?”

“—look, i don’t know what you’re getting at,” your eyebrows furrow deeper, “but if you keep this shit up, this won’t be the last time you hear from me.”

briskly, you swing around, completely ignoring his bickers as you head straight out the hallway door.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

to gojo, everything you said on wednesday was music to his ears.

he strolled into the next lecture, on monday, with the same shit-eating grin on his face. ‘this wont be the last time he hears from you?' god, he hopes that was true. it made him wonder why he didn’t just stare at you harder in the first place.

everything about you captivated gojo satoru.

from the first day of lecture, he was already mesmerized — by the wafting scent of your cologne as you walked past his row, the way your head cocked to the side whenever you thought through a problem set, the distant clicks as you tapped the end of your pencil against your arm nervously.

he simply couldn’t help but steal that initial glance. he also couldn’t help but steal another one the lecture after.

and another. and another.

he knew he was getting ahead of himself, being so selfish with his dangerous stares, but you just had that effect on him. an effect that he's never experienced with anyone else. he bit back his pride when he couldn’t even approach you first, as he normally did with his prior interests.

there was just something so serene, so heavenly about you. he almost wanted to leave you undisturbed, opting to observe you from afar — not wanting to disrupt his delicate masterpiece from behind the red rope at the museum.

but the day you approached him changed everything. ‘how can someone so innocent have such a mouth on her,’ he chuckles to himself, taking his ipad and apple pencil out of his backpack before laying them flat on the table.

you were completely unlike his initial impression of you, much to his amusement. he prefers it this way —actually— he likes a girl who has a bit of a bite. besides, he finally has an excuse to talk to you and do what he knows best: get under your skin. metaphorically (and literally).

he glances at the door as he hears the familiar clanking of your keychain against your water bottle, more excited for the lecture than he's ever been before.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

there is no fucking way.

gojo satoru is now sitting in the seat directly next to your unassigned assigned seat in this 300-person lecture hall. the entire classroom is almost packed too. how early did he have to be to even get that seat? why is he in that seat? your thoughts are cut off as he waves his hand at you, muttering a short "yoohoo~," ushering you to sit next to him.

hell no. you still have no idea what he's playing at. is he stalking you? does he have some sort of ulterior motive? what if his scary billionaire family kills you, a dirty plebeian, for sitting so close to their perfect, trust fund baby?

you immediately switch gears, practically running away to find a new seat, catching a glimpse of his pout in the corner of your eye. you ignore him and situate yourself in the very front row, directly in front of the professor's podium. you let out a deep exhale as you unpack your notebook when you hear a loud shuffle next to you.

this guy has no shame.

gojo, in all his glory, happily claims the empty seat next to you —unloading the entire apple store (or so it feels like) onto the desk. "good choice, doll. more leg room up here," he stretches his long, lanky legs before crossing them — making sure his knee briefly makes contact with yours.

"are you serious right now— bro your entire apple ecosystem is getting onto my side of the desk," you scowl at him once again as you shove his macbook closer to him. "serious about what?" he mocks, that signature smile gleaming down on you.

"whatever this is? are you obsessed with me or something," you mutter the last part under your breath, but he takes note of you rolling your eyes at him. "hmmm," he taps his chin all philosophically, "if anything you're the one obsessed with me."

wow, this guy really is insane. you felt your eyebrow twitch in anger as you jerked your head up, "me obsessed with you? how does that even make any sense—" "you said you noticed me staring for weeks," he muses, still looking straight at you, "but you don't think i noticed you staring back?"

you scoff, "i was simply just returning your gaze; not everything is about you!” “untrue.”

after refusing to make eye contact, you finally meet his eyes. "i'm not gonna play this damn game with you, look—"

you've never seen him this close before. you've never seen anyone this close before, really. in this cramped lecture hall, with its seats compressed like sardines, it felt like he was only mere millimeters away from you. your breath hitched as the air seemed palpable, heavy. he was so close, but it felt like he was untouchable — almost as if an infinite void was cast between you two.

for the first time, he dropped that condescending smirk. he dropped the facade altogether. beyond the icy blue hues, his eyes glistened a shade that he only shows to you, a shade you've never noticed in all those times you two locked eyes. they were powdery blue — the same softness as the edges of the clouds in the sky or the frothy, tidal waves lightly crashing against the beach sand.

it made you wonder if it was physically possible for one person to hold so much power in just their eyes. a power that felt like three whole people, six eyes-worth, were constantly peering into every fiber of your being. except this time, it was intense in a whole different way, completely unlike before. the closest feeling you could think of was a warm oven, fresh after a batch of cookies — an inexplicable warmth in contrast to his icy appearance.

lost in each others' eyes, he parts his lips as if to finally say something—

"i would really appreciate if you two kept your eyes on the board instead of on each other," a voice boomed from the podium in front of you.

you both tense up, quickly spinning your bodies around to face the front as the snickers began to fill the classroom. you completely forgot about how close you were sitting to the professor.

you felt a tinge of heat start on your cheeks, creeping its way up onto the cartilage of your ears. the embarrassment was more than enough to shut you both up for the rest of the period, but you knew.

you knew you wanted to feel this way again.

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final notes; i wrote this in my actual lecture hall instead of taking notes guys😎😎 (i am severely ill)

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagines #gojo satoru imagine #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #gojo imagine #gojo satoru imagines #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #satoru fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

1K notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 7 months

Text

Jungkook

(Oh My) Bunny-Baby 🔞

In which Jungkook had long lost hope to find someone sweet as you.

Tags/Warnings: Bunny Hybrid!Jungkook, Bunny Hybrid!Reader, strangers to lovers, major fluff, romance, Flirting, they're in love, also very horny towards the end oops, car sex, sloppy handjob, lots of... fluids, squirting aka champagne confetti wink wink, multiple orgasms, some aftercare?, idk it's something

Length: oneshot, I'll count later

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> You can request drabbles if you want.

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"Come on in- just, be a little quiet, I've got my new coworker over." Jimin chuckles, making Jungkook look at him scandalized- since Jimin, technically, has a girlfriend.

"Ah no, not like that." He waves off, walking in after they both taken off their shoes. "A waterpipe broke in her bedroom, so now she's crashing on my couch for the time being." He explains, putting a finger to his lips as they enter the living room area, where Jungkook spots your body underneath a blanket, clearly asleep.

What peaks his attention though, are the very obvious bunny ears on your head, only partially covered by your hair.

Bunny hybrids aren't common at all, nowadays, due to them ending up mixing with humans more often than not- so much so, that until now, Jungkook has never met another 'pure' bunny hybrid of the opposite sex before, ever. "Just sit down there- she sleeps like a rock, so don't worry too much about waking her." Jimin laughs, easily sitting down in a seat across from where you sleep, while Jungkook carefully takes the spot next to where your head is resting. From here, he's got an even better view of you- and you're just.. so cute.

Though he feels himself short-circuiting the moment you move, nose scrunching up a bit as you move your leg, blanket now slipping a little to reveal the softest looking bunny tail he's ever seen. That, combined with your ear twitching while you dream, makes him wonder about things he never really thought of before. He absentmindedly reaches to touch his own ear, trying to see if they're just as soft as yours look. Are they? He's not sure. He's so close to you he could just see for himself, especially when you move a little more, head leaning against his thigh, ears laying over it- but he knows how much he hates having his ears touched constantly, so he doesn't.

That would just be rude.

"Do you know a cheap place where she can stay? Sine my partner is a wolf hybrid, you know.." Jimin wonders, sighing. "Here, that's the sketches by the way." He offers, giving a few papers to Jungkook who takes them. "Oh! Or, since you're both the same species, maybe she could stay with you? You still have the pull-out couch right?"

"Yeah!" Jungkook answers, while you seem to finally wake up, slowly sitting upright, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"Great!" Jimin misunderstands the rabbit boy's answer. "Hey, bunny? Jungkookie over here has an empty couch you can stay on." He tells you, who's ears slowly stand up, before you look over at the shoulder of the other bunny hybrid- head slowly lifting to look at the wide open eyes of the buck next to you. "He's easy to be around, don't worry." Jimin jokes.

"Oh?" You wonder, noticing Jungkook's black ears turned towards you as well, giving you all information you need for the moment. "Tha's nice of you." You slur sleepily, yawning before you stretch. "Thank you." You smile, and Jungkook is officially without any brain activity at all for the moment.

Especially when you lean your head to the side a bit, ears flopping over, still clearly drowsy from sleep.

"Uh.. yeah!" Jungkook snaps out of it, ripping his eyes away from you, though he hears you giggle a little to yourself, causing his tail to wiggle without his control of it. He honestly didn't mean to agree to something like this- hell, his apartment isn't even remotely tidied up, there's probably dishes in the sink and his laundry all over the place- but in some odd way, he also can't pass up the opportunity of a lifetime, basically; because you're so pretty, and-

wait, he doesn't even know if you have a boyfriend. Do you? And if you do, why is he not helping you out in a time like this? He knows he would've offered you to stay at his home right away if something was up. That's just common sense.

"I'll go get my stuff.." You mumble, slowly getting up to stretch one last time- bunny tail wiggling around as you groan, giving Jungkook pretty much whiplash from the sight alone, before you walk away into the bathroom, probably to shower and wake up properly.

"She's cute, huh?" Jimin teases, catching Jungkook staring after you. "Doesn't have a boyfriend from what I know. And she's a bunny too." He wiggles his eyebrows, while Jungkook shakes his head.

"So?" He huffs. "Doesn't mean we're like.. destined or something. I'm just gonna help her out- and after that, we'll go back to being strangers anyways." He simply says, shrugging it off. After all, he's tried relationships before- and they all somehow always failed because of him in some way, making him believe that at this point, he just isn't fit for simple relationships.

He can't help his instincts, and neither can he help his.. needs either.

So when he takes the sketches home to work on, and helps carry your bag for you- he doesn't get his hopes up for something changing, because down the line, maybe that'll protect him from the inevitable heartbreak when you leave just like he fears you will.

Just like everyone else did before.

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Inside his apartment, you're clearly finally properly awake now, curiously following him as he shows you around, before he leaves you in his small living room to fetch some sheets and blankets for you to put on the couch.

It's clear that he lives alone, apartment a bit.. lifeless almost, not much screaming home at you from what you can see. Apart from a sweater thrown over a chair at the open kitchenette, and a few dishes in the sink, it looks like any ordinary single-guy household.

Interesting. Especially the fact that his home only smells of himself and no one else. Doesn't he have a partner?

That wouldn't make sense. He's basically the perfect buck.

"It's a bit.. uh, I know this will look like it's broken but it's not-" He defends, rubbing the back of his neck after he put the blankets and sheets on one side of the couch, leaning down to pull on the lower edge of the front of the couch. "-it's just.. urgh- old!" He grits, using a good amount of strength to pull out the part that snaps back up into place, ultimately turning the small couch into a bed with good amount of space on it.

You can't help but stare wide eyed however, not at the furniture- but rather the clear display of strength of his, arms showing off their muscles even while covered mostly by his plain white t-shirt. You can't help it- after all, it's instincts.

Snapping out of it when you notice him looking at you in question, you shake those thoughts off for the moment, hands behind your back while you sway on your legs a little. "Uh.. I didn't listen, sorry. What did you say?" You ask, caught a bit in your staring contest between you and his thighs having multiplied twice their size from the way he's sitting on his heels on the floor.

"I asked if you.. if that blanket is enough, or if you want a thicker one?" He offers. "I have a spare one with feather filling if you'd like.." He wonders, and you nod instantly.

You like thick blankets and bedding a lot- it makes for great nesting material, and gives you a sense of comfort while asleep.

He smiles in a friendly manner, before he fetches said blanket, taking a bit longer to put a cover over it, before he brings it to the couch you're already on all fours on, tucking the sheets into the corners properly, and he can't help but watch you a little. He himself doesn't really nest, and since he's never met a female bunny hybrid before, he's never actually seen one making a nest, except for in movies and TV shows. So, seeing you so naturally do it, makes him wonder.

How much of what he heard and seen about female bunny hybrids is actually true- and how much is just romanticized fiction?

After all, he as a male bunny hybrid is often watered down to nothing but a good lover in bed- but once those people get into an actual relationship, and realize that it's not just fun and games but a need of his that he'd have fulfilled every day of the week if possible, he quickly becomes too much to handle.

And so, most of the time, everything always falls apart because he's too needy. Too demanding. Too high maintenance. Too tough to.. satiate.

"Here." He carefully offers the bedding to you, and you smile, happily taking it with a 'thank you' from your side. He's a bit awkward now- unsure if you'd like him to stay or not. "Do you… should I leave?" He asks, unsure.

"No?" You answer, shaking your head. "This is your home after all. Why should you leave?" You giggle, unaware of Jungkook's inner troubles with the whole situation. He sits down on the edge of the bed so he stays out of the way, while you position some pillows and the other blanket how you want, eventually settling on the thick feather-filled quilt, hugging it it as you look at him arms and legs wrapped around the thick fluffy bedding.

"I.. uhm, I've never actually met a doe before, so I'm not sure how to really act." He admits, and you nod, lips parted in an 'o'-shape as you realize his dilemma.

"That's fine." You simply say. "We're kinda rare after all, I only ever really met another buck like.. a few years back? And he was an asshole, so you're already doing a lot better than him!" You joke, though he can spot some truth behind your words, worrying him what might've happened in the past. "So, Jiminie gave you sketches, right?" You ask, and he nods, happy over the finally flowing conversation. "What's that about?" You ask.

"I'm a tattoo artist." He says, pulling up the sleeve of his white shirt way over his shoulder, showing off his inked arm, making you lean closer to gain a better look, ears fully turned towards him now in interest. "I designed all of them myself, for example." He offers, chuckling when you tilt your head to look at something in a different angle.

"Oh, they're so cool!" You praise, before leaning back again. "I wanna have a tattoo too, but, I don't know.. people told me I shouldn't, cause it wouldn't suit me.." You mumble, leaning back into the comfort of the bedding.

"I mean, it depends what you'd want?" He shrugs. "I could for sure come up with something more delicate maybe?" He wonders, mind already trying to imagine some art underneath your skin right now.

"Heh, you wanna mark me up?" You flirt boldly, catching him off guard at your innuendo. "I'm just kidding. You're cute!" You compliment, before you curl up in your little nest once more. "...though.." you mumble, looking at him dangerously from underneath your lashes.

...though?" He asks, breathes out almost carefully.

"Though I wouldn't mind you cuddling me, to be honest." You giggle into the quilt, cheeks tinted softly. "You look like you give great cuddles." You say, and he laughs a bit bashfully to himself.

"I mean- maybe?" He shrugs, unsure. He's not really.. cuddled much before, every touch of his always having been taken as either an invitation or demand even when it wasn't either- so at some point in his life, he just stopped even thinking about it. What would make you different from them?

And what does he really have to lose, down the line?

You're Jimin's coworker. If you and Jungkook don't work out, there's no awkwardness really, to be fair. You'd just part ways, and that would be it, and since you're both clearly adults, nothing speaks against it.

"Shouldn't we.. maybe get to know each other more?" He wonders carefully, testing the waters. And your next words make him wonder if you could really truly be a new start for him.

"Why? It's only cuddling." You huff. "It's not like I wanna go to phase two just because you touch me." You joke.

And while he does smile at it, it's not a joke to him.

It's much more than that.

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"Heeh, whatcha cooking?" You ask, dipping underneath his arm to catch a glimpse at the pot he's stirring, making him instinctively reach out to pull you back so you don't look inside and hurt yourself.

"Ramen- but it's spicy, so you might not like it." He chuckles, remembering how you told him last night at a movie you watched together that you don't tolerate spicy things very well. Most buny hybrids dont- but he grew up with it, so maybe that's why he can stomach it very well.

The movie you watched yesterday had only been background noise to be honest, because you were rather occupied getting to know each other better, just like Jungkook had suggested. He now knows that you moved here after a bad relationship break up lead to you wanting a new fresh start somewhere else, while you learned that Jungkook used to work at an internet Cafe for a while until he could finally land a spot at Min Yoongis tattoo studio.

You've warmed up to each other quite quickly- and not just over shared life experiences and problems you'd laugh over together.

"But I'm hungry." You tell him, looking upwards at his face that's watching you as well. "Can I use your kitchen to make myself something?" You wonder, and he smiles, laughing.

"I can cook one extra. I have a mild chicken one in here- would you like that?" He asks, and you nod, reaching for it- though he's holding it too far away. "I said I'm making it." He jokingly scolds. "You go wait, it'll take maybe twenty minutes or so." He explains, though you just turn around and...

Hug him?

"Heeh, you're so warm!" You giggle, unable to really resist at least trying to hug him once- when a hand sets itself onto your back, holding you close while he continues cooking. He just smells so nice, and he is so nice in general that you just involuntarily get attached already.

You're a bunny hybrid after all. You crave affection, need attention.. and much more than that, but this part, you've learned to control. It throws people off how clingy and needy you are, it's something you learned the hard way- and you're hoping that you won't screw it up with Jungkook.

Cause you really like him already. Might go as far as to say you've got a terrible crush.

"Am I bothering you?" You ask meekly but he shakes his head, a surprised expression on his face.

"No, I'd tell you if you did." He answers, and at that, your eyes sparkle in wonder, head resting against his chest. Words like that mean the world to you- because thar means you won't just unknowingly make him uncomfortable until he gets rid of you. He'll tell you first, so you can change.

"Thank you." You simply say-

And he wonders what you must've experienced in the past to be so grateful of simple communication like that.

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"So, you're staying with Jungkook now?" Namjoon, a bear hybrid across from you asks- and you nod.

"Hmhm, he's really nice." You compliment, and Jungkook feels his cheeks start to get hotter at your praise. He's got a terrible problem and it's only four days in of you both knowing each other-

Because his body is clearly reacting to your scent being all over his apartment and all over him.

He can't help it, it's quite frankly embarrassing how often he has to shower and try and relieve himself somewhat quietly so you won't notice- ache in his body now worse than ever before, with you as a doe so close around him all the time. You're clearly in your prime, and so is he- bodies communicating that desire constantly without either of your control.

And unbeknownst to him, you're very aware of his dilemma. He's not exactly as quiet as he thinks he is.

In that department, you pride yourself in being a lot more secretive- he probably hasn't even noticed that you got yourself off right in your nest in the living room, because you, compared to him, can be quiet.

Well, but he knows. Because while you might not make much sound, your scent left on your bedding speaks louder than you could ever scream. And it's torture.

"So, you both?" Jimin raises his brows suggestively, making Jungkook shakes his head bashfully. "Heh, why not? You're already so cute together!" He whines, always so passionate about his best friend finally finding that special someone.

Namjoon sighs and scolds the younger friend, before he looks at you. "I'm sorry, he can be a bit too bold sometimes." He says, and you just wave it off.

"No its fine, I understand." You say, before going back to eating.

You're awfully quiet the rest of the night, seemingly rather low on energy. It's something Jungkook notices with slight worry, fearing you might be coming down with something- unaware that it's both your social batteries running low, and also the fact that, naturally, bunny hybrids tend to kind of shrink in on themselves if they're without affection for too long.

And for you, it's been a long time since someone cared for you in a more intimate way.

But he doesn't connect the dots yet, rather offers to go home with you a bit earlier, to get you into bed so you can rest properly.

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You're surprisingly visiting often and regularly, even after returning to your now renovated home.

You seek him out actively, ask often for his opinion on things or if he wants to hang out- and he's thriving, energy at an all time high. It's something that everyone at the tattoo shop notices too, constantly picking on the rabbit hybrid- but he couldn't care less.

Because last night, you told him you liked him. Like, liked him a lot. You got a crush on him.

And it makes him all giddy with excitement, causes him to whistle as he cleans up his workspace to finally go home and welcome you back to his apartment for some takeout and cuddles- because that's something that you do often as well.

It's like the only quality sleep he has these days is only when he sleeps together with you. And not even in a sexual sense whatsoever.

You gently turn him whenever he falls into a bad position during his sleep that makes him snore- instead of telling him that he's annoying and disrupting your rest. You cling onto him, you're nuzzling into his neck, you scent him- and he loves every second of it, soaks up your affectionate attention like a sponge.

You're just so cute, and perfect for him- he can't help but fall for you. And knowing that you did too- just makes it all feel like a fairytale come true.

Though, in his car, things don't go quite as.. tame as he expected it to.

Not that he complains.

You're on his lap in the driver's seat as he'd parked his car at an empty parking lot out of sight of the main road, clinging to him, kissing him just as eagerly as he does you. It's desperate, open mouths stealing each other's breath away, his teasing bites to your lip making you whimper. "Please-" you softly cry, looking at him with pleading eyes. "-I'm starving.!" You complain, and he laughs.

The moment you're both in the backseat of his car, he wastes no time- using the sweater and shirt he pulls off his upper body in one go to throw them against the door so your head is supported, before he leans down to kiss you again. He can't get enough, not of you, and not of this moment-

Because down the line, he's equally as touch-starved as you are.

There's no time nor need for words as his hands push beneath your clothes, exploring what he finds beneath with eager palms, skin warm to the touch. You're squirming in place, needy for more than he gives right now- and he decides that patience can go fuck itself, because he needs you.

The moment he unveils your lower body to his eyes is the moment he just knows he can't control himself, hand instantly reaching between your legs to play with you, get you ready. "How have you been like this, huh?" He chuckles, jokes, as you squirm and roll your hips into his hand. "Poor baby, suffering in silence when I'm right here." He breathes out, sensitive core so desperate you don't need much to come undone for the first time.

While you catch your breath, he uses that time to search for a condom in his car- finding one in his wallet, thankfully, before he covers his length that you're already reaching for.

"Next time." He reassures your disappointed face as you realize he's not gonna let you return the favor. "Right now I need you." He instead explains, before he guides the head of his cock through your folds, collecting your wetness before he finally pushes inside.

Your head is finally empty, no thoughts rushing any longer, the only thing on your mind the feeling of him filling you up.

You don't care if you're needy, or clingy, or too demanding- right now you want all he has to offer, as your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer.

And closer he gets, leaning down to capture your lips once more before his hips start to move.

The sounds you make must be nothing shy of pornographic, but you don't spare any mind to it- instead letting your eyes roll back as he picks up his pace, testing your limits to see what you need, and what you can take. And much to his personal pleasure, it seems like you're a perfect fit-

Not just in any other way already.

Your tail must be soaked in your slick at this point, ring of foamy white decorating the base of his length as he keeps up his rhythm, skin smacking against skin loudly in the small space of the car. Any bystander outside probably knows exactly what's going on-

And he couldn't care less.

An almost growling sound escapes him when he feels you clench in your upcoming orgasm, thighs trembling against his body as you cry out, white hot pleasure making you blind and deaf for a second, while his hips stutter, one final push all it takes for him to snap-

As he pulls out your soaked cunt, pulling the condom off to instead close your legs and bring himself to his finish that way, white strings of cum covering your naked front, even up to your shirt that he's pushed way up high to reveal your bouncing chest to his eyes.

He's breathing heavily together with you, as he notices the scene he finds himself in.

The windows of the car are all fogged up, and it's stuffy inside, smell of sex filling the entirety of the space, leather of the seats squeaking slightly as he adjusts his position. Your most recent experience of pleasure covers his thighs and seats, but he doesn't mind, he can only laugh to himself absolutely starstruck.

He's never experience something like this before.

He's never had any sexual encounter where he felt this satisfied after, no lingering appetite left for the moment, as he helps you out of your shirt to use it to wipe your body somewhat clean- his cum having stained the fabric already anyways.

The second he notices you shivering he helps you into a sitting position after cleaning you between your legs too- or at least drying your skin, before he wipes the seats. "I uh.." you mumble, staring at the mess you've made. "...that's new." You say, and he laughs, looking at you with eyes full of stars.

"I know." He answers, making you beam back with an equally love-filled gaze, shy laughter breaking the awkward aftermath of your first time.

And that's when he knew-

You're it for him.

For now and forever.

•━━━━━♡━━━━•.🐇.•━━━━━♡━━━━━━•

"Jungkoooook~?" You sing, hanging somewhat upside down off his bed- when he walks into the bedroom, freshly showered.

"Whaaaaat~?" He parrots back in a similar tone, walking to the closet to get a shirt and pants.

"Do you love me?" You wonder, and he laughs, slipping the shirt over his head.

"Of course." He instantly answers without thinking.

"Do you really love me?" You ask, and he turns around now, looking at you with suspicion.

"...You're gonna ask me to drive you to that one specific place where they sell those giant milkshakes again, aren't you?" He accuses, and you giggle.

"I mean, do you reeeaaally love me?" You jokingly ask, and at that he squats down in front of you to kiss your upside-down lips with a smile.

"Of course I do." He answers. "So much so that I'll drive you there, even though you're gonna have a stomachache from all the food again."

"That was once!" You call out as he puts on his sweatpants having now sat up. "Or maybe twice.. okay if we count last Tuesday maybe three times but that-"

"Doesn't count, I know." He finishes his sentence for you, closing the closet before he leans his hands on the bed, lips catching yours to shut you up for a second.

But as he leans back to look at you, there's a new desire in your eyes.

"You know.. now that I think of it.." you mumble quietly, hands toying with the strings of his sweats. "I'm hungry for something else.." you bat your lashes at him, and he smirks at that, leaning his head to the side while he watches your lips.

"I wonder what that might be." He grins, licking his lips as you lean onto your back, his body now crawling over you.

"Guess you better find out." You tell him, hands already pulling down the hem of his pants slowly.

"Guess I have to." He shrugs, letting you undress him, trip to the far away diner long forgotten.

Because who needs to eat out when you've got the best dinner at home?

•━━━━━♡━━━━•.🐇.•━━━━━♡━━━━━━•

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

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queenothegeeks · 1 month

Text

Awkward creator reader drabbles

This is based off a previous post about the reader being an awkward creator.

(warning, this all based off of chaotic ideas me and a friend had while on call, and this is not beta read, so I apologize for any bad spelling or grammar)

Imagine, just, having tea with Zhongli, and he's just talking about wine or something boring idk, and he notices that you look a little zoned out, like, eyes glazed over, mind clearly elsewhere. While he’s worrying about The Creator not liking him or whatever, you are just trying to figure out how to process being in another world, with all these people that you know everything about, but at the same time, don’t know anything at all.

When you notice him looking at you weird and not talking anymore, you worry that you may have missed something important. So you just blurt out the first thing that came to mind, to fill the silence.

“It's kinda funny that you're working under Hu Tao. She’s like, a billion years younger than you. Also, you should cool it on the adventuring, you might throw your back out gramps.”

And then, realizing what you said, you just grab your now lukewarm (yes, he was talking for that long) cup of tea (or whatever else you want if you don’t drink tea) and take a long sip, trying to hide your red face.

(Bonus, you choked on your tea)

Imagine going to Fontaine, and just gawking at the scenery there. Imagine, in order to find out about where in the timeline you are (and because you want to see some of your favorite characters) you decide to go to the opera house, and see if there's a trial going on, where you can ask Furina or Neuvillette about the wellbeing of Fontaine. Instead, you find a flier for Lyney and Lynette's magic show at a nearby theater. Deciding to go, you pay the ticket master, who looks in slight shock as the creator buys back row seats like a normal person (you were too scared to ask for a better seat while paying, so you just asked for the cheapest one)

Sitting down, you wait nervously for the show to start, all being completely ignorant of the panic and rumors backstage.

“The creators here! At our show!?”

“Calm down, it's fine, we don’t even know if it’s true.”

And, just to stir the pot, a tall lady sits next to you. You feel like you should know her from somewhere, she just seems so… familiar.

Realizing you had been staring for quite a while, you turn your head back to the stage, waiting for the show to start. About midway through the show, you realize who it is you are sitting next to.

The knave, fourth of the Fatui harbingers.

At the end of the performance, you shift in your seat, suddenly wayyyyyy more self-conscious than you were at the beginning of the show. Wanting to say everything and nothing at the same time, you decide it's best to shut your mouth for the time being. It’s probably not even her, why worry-

“Excuse my rudeness, would you happen to be the creator?”

She knew you were of course, hence why she chose to sit next to you, instead of the front row seat that was reserved for her, as it always was at one of her children's performances.

“I.. am… but you can call me y/n! I don’t really like fancy titles or anything! Would you be the Knave? Or do you prefer Arlecchino? ack-wait , sorry. I’ll shut up now, let's start fresh, what do you think of the show?”

You half say-half shout, flailing your hands around, and then shrinking in your seat, trying to become as small as possible. Arlecchino chuckles.

“I think it was a lovely performance, as they always are. My children are very talented, you know.”

“Y-yeah! They're really great! I have to go! Great meeting you miss-Arlecchino-Knave-ma’am”

You say as you bolt out of the room, the embarrassment and social awkwardness you naturally possess driving your feet.

(Bouns, you tripped over your own feet and wanted the floor to swallow you whole)

@lorkai

#genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin #sagau #arlechinno genshin #zhongli #sagau brainrot #the brainrot is real

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svnarin · 4 months

Note

- so like maybe like a fic/drabble/whatever with suna when reader and him get in a fight and reader leaves to like cool down or sum- and reader gets hurt bad :3

idk man it’s cringy and wattpad coded but I like that shit 😞 feel free to decline! ((If rq is 2 weird maybe do a vulnerable moments with him))

Ty for reading ! (I dunno how to reqs I’m sorry💀)

୨୧⋆ ˚ — selfish

warnings!! angst, suna being a selfish asshole, open-ended 'cause it still ended in an unresolved argument, not proofread 😞

note! HI ANON!! this is actually my very first time taking such a request. tbh with you, i've never done that much angst and this is actually the heaviest angst i've done by far, but i hope this can satisfy your wants 😭🙏

FEEDBACKS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!

“where are you? i can’t find you in the stadium.”

you don’t want to reply to his message. heck, you don’t even want to open the notification at all.

it’s been three hours since the match ended and it’s been an hour since you left the stadium, and he just realized that you left just now? ridiculous.

you stared blankly at the notification until he sent you another one just three minutes later.

“y/n where are you?” suna sent you another one. “why aren’t you reading my messages?”

you were literally about to space out from staring blankly at his messages when your phone suddenly vibrated. he’s calling you, snapping you back into reality.

you sighed before declining his call.

“at home,” you replied to his message. “i went home early then i dozed off, sorry,” you added.

he immediately replied with, “ok ig i’ll go home now.”

you’re aware that his reply was dry, but like, that’s all? some ok ig is all he can reply? but at this point, you couldn’t even care less anymore.

around 45 minutes later, you were lounging on the sofa when you suddenly heard the entrance to your and suna’s shared penthouse open. you already know it’s suna. he’s the only other one who knows the passcode to the penthouse after all.

“why did you leave so early? did you even finish watching the whole match at all?” that’s the first thing he told you when he went to the lounging area. so is that really how he’ll greet you? it made you laugh dryly.

“not even a hello?”

“i asked you first.” he’s clearly pissed off.

“why are you mad?” you stood up from the sofa, walking towards him. “i was there and i watched your whole match. i know you lost the match, but you don’t have to put your anger on me.”

“so why did you leave after the match was over?”

“what do you mean? i literally stayed there for two more hours before i left.” it’s true. you stayed for two more hours and waited for him. and for the whole two hours, you wanted to go and still congratulate him for his performance, but you couldn’t. why? because he got swarmed by his fans, begging to take pictures with him and getting his autograph.

you tried squeezing yourself in. you loudly called for his name through the crowd, but all you saw was him taking a glance at you before returning his focus to taking pictures and signing autographs.

“you literally looked at me when i called your name after the match, you just didn’t bother walking towards me.”

“wait, yeah, i did see you earlier. sorry.” suna doesn’t sound sorry at all. “still, you could’ve waited for me.”

“rin, i tried waiting for you. i tried calling for your attention because i still wanted to congratulate you even if you lost, you just didn’t bother because you were too busy taking pictures and signing autographs.”

“me just only taking glances at you and not walking towards you as i was clearly,” he emphasized. “taking pictures and signing autographs is already an act of not bothering?”

“so their attention matters more than mine?”

“i did not say that, y/n. don’t make things complicated.” you can feel the tone of his voice getting sharper and sharper.

“then why are you making it sound like their attention matters more than mine? you don’t have to take pictures with everyone. you don’t have to sign every autograph they request. you always do this but you literally don’t have to do everything they want. they’re just your fans, they come and go.”

“wait, are you fucking jealous over the attention i gave them? when we literally live under the same roof?” suna laughed dryly, his words making your blood boil.

“of course i’m jealous!” you snapped, shouting at him. “we live under the same roof but you’re out almost 24/7!”

“don’t you get it?! i’m a volleyball player, so what do you expect?!” suna snapped back. “are you even aware that you’re being selfish right now?”

“wait, selfish? me?” you scoffed. “can you hear yourself right now, suna?” you pointed at your ear. “so i’m the selfish one when all i did was sacrifice everything just so that i could choose you?” you pointed to his chest. “when i literally left my family, closest friends, and career on a different prefecture just so that i could live with you here in tokyo to support you on your own career? when i literally had to skip work multiple times just so that i could attend all your matches? when all i wanted in return was the unconditional love that you promised me when we were in high school?”

the suna that you’re facing right now isn’t the suna that you knew back in high school. he changed. he changed after being a part of the volleyball national team. but despite the change, you stayed.

choosing him over everything caused you some damage. you waited and are still waiting until those damages healed. you know it hurts, waiting for the damage to heal for so long, but you also think that if you manage to get it healed, you can consider it as good damage. so, if you will leave him midway through healing, then all the damage will be just damage. but now you know better than this. you need to stop choosing him, you need to choose you.

all the things that you’ve been wanting to tell him just spilled as if a dam burst broken. you can feel tears now streaming down your face. “so suna, let me ask you again, am i the one who’s being selfish?”

that was the last thing you told him before picking up your purse and then walking towards the penthouse to leave.

suna just stood on his spot, silent the whole time. realization immediately kicked in when he heard the entrance to the penthouse shut close. he couldn’t move even though he wanted to. he wanted to chase after you, kneel after you, and beg for your forgiveness but he couldn’t move. he knows he fucked up big time. he knows he’s been fucking up for years.

𝐒𝐕𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | repost, modification, and translation of my works on any platforms are strictly prohibited.

#⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐕𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 : 𝐇𝐐 #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyu angst #hq angst #suna rintaro x reader

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quitesins · 5 months

Text

Boxer! Bakugou x Sports Journalist! Reader

Masterlist

Tags: Sfw, drabble, aged up bakugou, boxer! bkg, sports journalist! reader, female reader, ooc bakugou? Maybe? Dialogue heavy, I’ve had this in my drafts since feb, idk anything about boxing btw

“They say you’re a prodigy, Mr. Bakugou but do you think you can keep up with those who’ve been fighting for years?”

Bakugou Katsuki, The Dynamight.

It’s testy to ask a question like that. You’ve watched his other interviews- he’s volatile, quick to anger. So you’re surprised when he looks you over, and smirks.

“You doubtin’ me?” There’s amusement in his voice. He thinks you’re nervous, he’s already disregarded you as a threat.

“No.” You sit up a little straighter. “But you have been uncharacteristically quiet about your training recently. One can only assume why.”

Bakugou lets out a bark of laughter, it’s not one you haven’t heard before but it’s still rare, feeling almost exclusive to the journalists he really doesn’t respect.

“And you’re suspecting it’s because I have nothing to show? Hah!”

You have to force your eyebrows back up, your lips to still curve.

“If not, what else? Aren’t you a little too confident” You pause. “Izuku Midoriya is also force to beat, but even he isn’t so cocksure.”

The crowd around you hushes. No one dares mentions that name. Bakugou grits his teeth, while you smile with yours prettily. It’s a low blow, bringing up his rival, but you’re not here to play nice either.

Bakugou takes a second, then replies. “That nerd would tremble over a baby.” His arm comes out to rest on the seat beside him, and he leans back casually. “His progress has nothing to do with me. I know my skill. I don’t need to be worried.”

It ticks you off how quick he is at regaining the upper hand, like confidence runs through his veins.

Though he looks unperturbed, his team ushers another journalist to the mic, and you have to step back at last. But even as you sink back into the crowd, head lowered, scribbling away at your notes, a pair of red eyes follow you, with intensity you’d be glad not to notice.

You’re waiting in the cold, under a darkening sky, just outside the hall, when a warmth emerges on your left side. It’s him. The Dynamight. And you jump back startled.

He stands there, clearly entertained by the fact you hadn’t noticed him and then by little gasp when you do.

“Mr Bakugou.” You’re curt, not particularly interested in getting into an argument, expecting that was what he was here for.

“Bakugou’s fine.” His shoulder nudges yours, for a second you think it’s a threat, but the foreign softness of his voice makes you realise otherwise. He’s trying to be… friendly? For what reason, it’s beyond you.

“Bakugou.” You don’t open up, but you don’t shy away either. He seems to take that as a win. “Shouldn’t you be inside, I’m sure everyone is clamouring for your attention.”

He snorts, it’s similar to his laugh during the interviews, but this time you can tell it isn’t taunting. You feel a bit guilty for assuming it had come with malice earlier.

“You’re not one bit scared of me are ya?”

“Should I be?”

Maybe he genuinely enjoys the back and fourth, because he really laughs at that. “Nah, you’d probably write a hit piece on me.”

“I- What?” When his words sink in you fluster at his claim. “No I wouldn’t? What?!”

“I read that article you did on Dabi.” Bakugou raises- without accusation. “The fucker deserved it.”

“It wasn’t like that!” It wasnt. It’s not your fault the famous boxer Dabi— Touya Todoroki had turned out to be former world champion, Endeavour’s son. You weren’t trying to expose any nepotism. It just happened to be. “It’s my job!!”

For a moment, Bakugou thinks you look like a scolded child, trying to defend yourself from the heinous allegation of stealing from the cookie jar.

“Relax. I know.” Bakugou nudges your shoulder again. “It’s why I want you to come interview my gym.”

“What?”

“My gym, Jeanist, Red, the whole lot.” He lists. “I don’t trust any other extra to do it. Either suck ups or fuckin’ liars.”

“And you think I’d be the inbetween?” You eye him warily, you don’t trust his trust.

“Yeah.” He ignores your skepticism. “Plus, it’d be nice to have a pretty girl around for a change.”

Now that’s what gets you speechless. Despite the increasing attempts of gossip mags trying to speculate about the annoyingly handsome Dynamight’s love life, he’d never actually been caught in a dating scandal. Honestly it seemed like the man was far too focussed on himself to have interest in anyone at all.

“That shut you up, huh?”

You’re actually glad he teases, because it reminds you not to fall for whatever charm he’d conjured up. You give him a frown but somewhere in your chest, it feels oddly warm.

“Think about it.” He steps back. “I’ll tell you now, best fuckin’ article you’ll ever write.” He nods over to a car you hadn’t noticed pull up.

It’s your cab, and it’s mildly embarrassing to realise how concentrated you’d been on him. He goes to take his leave and you turn to enter the car. Neither of you say goodbye, you just look away with faint smiles on your faces.

I had the beginning of dis just floating about in ma drafts since feb, finally added to it so why not post, also yes this is a call to watch Ippo. Miyata my beloved…

#bakugou imagine #bakugou imagines #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #x reader #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou fanfic #fanfiction #drabble #quite shorts #quitesins bkg

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tallulah477 · 5 months

Text

Pretty, But Not Stupid

Extra of Hunting the Tawtute

Kinkmas Day 10: Breath Play

Pairing: Lo’ak x Fem!Human!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Breath Play, Choking, Size Difference, Alien Genitalia, Oral (male receiving), P in V, Belly Bulge, Creampie, Scenting, Mention of knots (but no knotting yet), Slight threesome (and Dark!Neteyam), Mentions of death/dead bodies, Reader is not having a good time (although idk...i think she’s having a great time), Mentions of war

A/N: Guess who’s back, besties!! Been MIA, slacking on prompts, and about to lose my fucking mind with all my family around, but I somehow got this done and I’m about to read as many fics as I can before someone else demands my attention.

A/N 2: This was not intended to be a full Part 2 yet, but it's way too long to be called a drabble. So I’m calling it an extra for now until I decide what to call it lmao. Hope y’all like it 🧡

A/N 3: DEDICATED TO @oakbuggy AND THEIR AMAZING ARTWORK (Everyone stop reading and go look at their art rn, all of them are god-tier but the one for Hunting the Tawtute definitely holds a special place in my heart. Thank you again, Buggy! You're amazing!)

Summary: With their father’s impending retirement as Olo’eyktan, Neteyam has more responsibilities to the clan and less time to see his favorite human. Thankfully, Lo’ak is there to pick up the slack.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Vrrtep - Demon

Tawtute - Human

Sevin - Pretty

Palulukan - Apex predator resembling a lion or panther

(Mountain) Banshee/Ikran - Large, dragon-like aerial predators

Mawey - Calm

Narlor - Beautiful

Tam tam - Calm, be content, there there

Srane - Yes

Yawne - Beloved

Paskalin - Sweet berry (term of endearment)

Their father is stepping down as clan leader - at least that’s what Lo’ak tells you when he comes to visit you in the isolated hut the brothers have set up for you on the side of a cliff face. It was for your own protection, they told you. You couldn’t stay in the village yet, their father would never allow it, and you clearly couldn’t be trusted not to run away if they built you something on the forest floor.

“Tawtutes with their tiny brains are stupid,” Neteyam had sneered as he hauled your combined weight up the cliff side. Your arms locked around his neck tightly, legs wrapped around his lithe torso as your eyes squeezed shut, determined not to look at the insane height you were being pulled to. “You might think to run away and then become the next meal of a hungry Palulukan.”

“Nah, bro,” Lo’ak said, the grin on his face audible in his teasing words as he climbed up the cliff behind you, ready to catch you if you decided to end it all right there and try your hand at plummeting to your death, no doubt. “Our little vrrtep would never run from us. Right, sevin?”

The hut they built for you was as cozy as it could be. Assembled further into the cave and away from the treacherous cliff side, thick material wrapped around sturdy posts to keep out any harsh weather that the cave itself couldn’t keep out. They’d given you plenty of blankets, assuring you that even though your human nose can’t smell it, their scent is all over them.

“To keep you smelling like us, when we can’t be here to do it ourselves.”

But they’re always around, day after day they come for you. Lo’ak grinning a deceivingly sweet smile and Neteyam’s amber eyes burning holes into your face as they grab at you, pulling you towards them as they all but rip off the loincloth and chest covering they gave you, baring your marked up body to their hungry gazes. They spread you open, fucking you and fucking you until you’re a crying overstimulated mess, drooling and teary under your mask as they fill you up.

They know exactly how to touch you, where to press, where to rub, where you’re most sensitive. They learned how to play with your body better than you could ever know how, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of your trembling, exhausted body until your left limp and they’ve decided they’ve had enough for the day.

Your body still struggles to take their cocks (although they love to tell you that you were made for it - “made to be our little cocksleeve”). Your only saving grace is that they’re still not sure if they can knot you. They’ve gotten close to trying, instincts desperate to push that large ball of tissue at the base of their cocks inside your already stuffed to the brim pussy. You feel how they test the resistance, pushing juuuusttt a little deeper, the swollen knot stretching you even farther than you ever thought you could stretch before they back off.

When they fill you full of their cum, it’s with their own hand squeezing tightly around the knot.

Usually, it’s both of them. This time, you’re shocked to see only Lo’ak climbing over the edge of the cliff.

“Neteyam sends his regrets,” Lo’ak says, kneeling down to wrap his arms around your body and press his face into your neck. His flat nose presses against your rapidly increasing pulse point and breathes in your scent. “He said to tell you that he’s sorry he won’t be able to visit you today, but that he’ll make sure to come see your pretty face and fill your tight pussy tomorrow.”

Your face flushes hot at his words, shivering when his nose slides up to nudge just behind your ear, but you stay silent.

“But that’s good news for me,” He continues. “Because that means I get you all to myself for tonight.”

Neteyam isn’t coming to visit you today because their father is stepping down as clan leader, which means increased training, more hours at council meetings, and less time to sneak off with his captive human.

“What does that mean?” You can’t help but ask. Lo’ak’s hands smooth down your sides, large palms dragging over your bare skin until they’re squeezing your ass. Your voice cracks at the feel, but you push on, your eyes doing their best to keep contact with his bright amber ones. “Your father stepping down? What does that . . .”

What does that mean for me?

“Nothing you have to worry about right now,” He says.

Without warning, he stands, pulling you with him so your legs wrap around his torso as he supports you with a hand on your ass. A loud yip rips from his throat, echoing through the cave as he walks you both towards the cliff’s edge. The responding roaring shriek makes you cower against him as the large dragon-like animal lands on the platform behind you, wings flapping hard against the wind.

“We’re going on an adventure,” Lo’ak says as he walks you closer to the banshee. You whimper, arms locking around his neck so tight you’d think you would be choking him if you could think straight. But you’re not, head whipped around staring wide eyed at the monstrous creature as it turns its head sideways to stare back at you.

“Lo’ak, no,” You beg through gritted teeth, but he ignores you as he approaches the banshee, his hand settling lovingly on its snout.

“Mawey,” he coos, carefully rubbing along the blue leathery skin on the banshee’s snout, but you’re not sure if he’s trying to calm the large animal or you. “Mawey, narlor,”

“Lo’ak, no,” You plead, still clinging to his upper body. Tears pool in your eyes and a panicked whimper escapes your lips when you feel the puffing breath of the mountain banshee on your back. “Please, please, no!”

But you’re ignored again, even when your body goes rigid at the feel of that rounded snout pressing against the curve of your spine, hot exhales practically burning your skin as the banshee sniffs at you. Fuck, fuck–you could die. Right now, you could die in a second, that snout pressing into your skin could disappear, replaced with dual rows of long curved teeth that would take only a second to open and bite down and rip you clean in half.

You can hear the smile in Lo’ak’s voice from where your mask is digging into his collarbone, his soft murmurs of encouragement loud even through your terrified thoughts. “Srane, tam tam. Look at my two beautiful girls, getting along so well.”

He moves swiftly, not leaving room for any more pleading as he bonds with his banshee and climbs on, bringing your clinging body with him. The rush of air as the large animal takes flight makes you squeeze Lo’ak tighter, desperate for safety as you feel the wind bat at your back as the banshee cuts through the sky like a bullet from a gun.

“Is this all it takes for you to cling to me, sevin?” Lo’ak teases as he rests a secure hand on your trembling figure, all five fingers spread so wide that they nearly span the entirety of your back. “A little ikran ride and I get you all cuddled up, nice and close?”

You ignore his dig, teeth clenching together as you fight to find your voice around the wind rushing around your ears. “W-where are we going?”

Lo’ak nudges his chin against the top of your head. “You’ll see,”

The flight feels like hours. Hours of watching miles and miles of trees and forest thousands of meters below from over Lo’ak’s shoulder. Logically, you know you’re exaggerating. It hasn’t been hours, and even though you’re still high enough to die as a splat on the ground if you were to fall, it's probably not as high as it feels. But heights have never been your friend, and frankly, neither has time management.

It’s only when the banshee lowers to the ground and Lo’ak dismounts, depositing you on your own two unsteady feet, that you realize where he’s brought you on your ‘adventure’.

Your mouth opens in horror at the remains of your old home. The RDA outpost, a once tall and strong fortress that housed the lives of hundreds of humans, now practically nothing more than a heap of rubble. The walls once meant to provide safety to those within them have crumbled down, victims of their own explosives used against them by the enemy. Debris lines the paved ground, thick boulders and metal platings that were once walls, bullet shells glinting in the sunlight. There’s a few AMP suits scattered around the battlefield - you can’t see inside them from your vantage point, and you’re terrified of what you might see if you get too close.

“This way, tawtute,” Lo’ak says, reaching for your hand, but you yank it away before he can grab it.

“No,” You say, but the firmness in your voice is overshadowed by the shakiness. “No, I’m not going in there.”

“Yes, you are,”

Another headshake. “No,”

Quick as lightning, his hand shoots out and grabs the bottom of your mask, gripping on the valve at the bottom as he bends down so his face is level with yours.

“Demon,” He growls, fangs on display for just a moment. A warning. “You are pretty, but not stupid. You do as I say.”

Fear claws at your throat and your hands immediately latch onto his wrist, silently begging for him to not pull your mask off. He never does, and neither does Neteyam. Not as a punishment at least. When they use your mouth, there’s always a warning - a “hold your breath, yawne,” before the air is cut off from your lungs and your mouth is full of alien cock. But the fear never leaves, the possibility is always there at the forefront of your mind, and you cling to his wrist like the lifeline it is.

Lo’ak’s face softens at your expression, grip loosening from your mask as his hand slides to cup the back of your neck. “You know I would never hurt you. You need to trust me,”

Hesitantly, you shake your head again. You’re pushing your luck, you know it. But you’ve learned Lo’ak is the more lenient of the brothers and will tolerate more ‘disobedience’ than Neteyam will. “I can’t,”

“Yes, you can. Nothing in there will hurt you. If anyone is left in there, they’re dead,”

And that’s the problem. The terror of facing the place where life as you knew it was ended in a heartbeat. If there’s still people in there, people you once knew, people you talked to, some people who were good, lying on the ground . . . lifeless . . .

In the end, it’s not a choice. Lo’ak sighs, pulling you back in his arms and cradling you to his chest like a toddler. You sniffle, eyes sliding shut, determined to not watch as he walks you towards the remains of the outpost.

It’s hard to admit, but being carried by the brothers can be really soothing if you let it. They move swiftly, with grace and confidence in every step, careful not to jostle you despite the usually uneven terrain of the forest. It’s even smoother now as Lo’ak walks across the flat pavement of the base. If you close your eyes, it can almost feel like you’re floating.

There’s a loud chu-chunk sound followed by the rapid hiss of air and the loss of sunlight behind your closed lids. You open your eyes to see that Lo’ak has found a still intact entrance, the airlock working to adjust the oxygen levels to whatever lies beyond the interior door. He smiles when the pressure stabilizes, opening the door and stepping into the inside of the base. This time, he doesn’t warn you when he pulls off your mask, the sound of escaping air hitting your ears, but you don’t choke. Instead you can breathe, deep complete breaths without the need for a mask covering your face.

Lo’ak wastes no time nuzzling his face against yours, sliding his cheek across every new inch of face and neck that he can comfortably reach, a deep content rumble vibrating through his chest.

Scenting you.

“I can smell you,” He whispers, lips pressing against your cheek. “Not just you right now, but where you were, where you’ve been, here, within these walls.”

“W-what?”

His feet carry him, guided by an old scent that you can hardly believe is here after so long. But it is, it has to be - you know the journey, have walked it hundreds of times during your time on Pandora, but you can’t imagine that Lo’ak would. You don’t think he ever went inside the outpost during the attack. He shouldn’t know that it's the second hallway instead of the first, shouldn’t know it’s two left turns and one right, and that your door is the 3rd on the left. But he does.

He even knows which bed was yours and which was your roommate’s, only confirmed when he drops you down onto the thin RDA issued mattress against the far side wall. You land with a yelp, bouncing slightly from the force of the drop, but your noise of surprise is cut off by Lo’ak’s lips against yours.

“Stupid humans,” He growls against your lips. “Can't even breathe air without help. Wish I could teach you, so I wouldn’t have to go without your pretty lips on mine every day.”

You whine into the kiss, his big lips nearly twice the size of yours as they capture your mouth completely. It’s not the first time he’s kissed you, but it’s the first time you can breathe while it happens.

He pulls away after a few more kisses, his breathing shallow as he reaches for something tied to his loincloth. It’s only then that you see the CO2 mask that’s been attached to his hip this whole time. He pulls the cross strap around his body, the mask hanging low on his chest and the CO2 canister hanging around his hip. He brings the mask to his face with one hand, taking in a few deep breaths, while the other hand works at the ties on his loincloth.

The material of his covering falls to the ground and he drops the mask in favor of gripping your chin, thumb rubbing soothingly across your cheek.

“Someone wants to play with you,” He purrs. “Be a good girl and invite him out, okay?”

Your breathing is shaky as you rise up on the bed, knees pressing into the mattress as you come face to face with the flat plane hiding Lo’ak’s cock. His hand moves to the back of your head, guiding you forward until your lips press against the smooth space between his thighs.

Experience has you knowing what to do now, how to hold onto his thighs with both hands to keep yourself steady as you pepper gentle kisses along the hidden slit. Lo’ak tips his head back at the feel of your tongue sliding along the seam, little teasing kitten licks against the engorging slit that are always from him demanding them, demanding the slower teasing buildup, rather than you being coy.

He pushes your face harder against him, hissing a ‘yeah, good girl. Like you fucking mean it,’ as he urges you to lick him deeper. When his slit opens, puffy and dripping, you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips as the sweet taste of his slick coats your tastebuds. It controls your body, whatever is in the slick. You feel it, making your body heat up, making you want things you definitely don’t - and you’re in the thick of it now, no mask or breathing breaks to cut whatever effects it usually has on you. It sets your body on fire now, making your thighs clench together as wetness pools in your core, and your brain fuzzes as the first touch of Lo’ak’s cock teases your lips as it starts to slip past the slit.

You don’t know how long he keeps you there, sucking his cock. He’s dragging it out, taking advantage of the rare opportunity he has now of you without your mask. He drags your mouth along his cock, staring down at you with hooded eyes and letting you suckle gently on the lavender tip. Sometimes he’ll growl, pushing you down harder on his length just to hear you gag when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. Other times he’ll pull you off completely, twisting your head so that your lips wrap around his girth from the side, before sliding you slowly back and forth along his length, tongue running over each and every bump and barb along the hot cerulean skin, the bright bioluminescent freckles decorating his cock practically shining under the layer of slick and saliva.

When he’s finally used you to tease himself enough, he pushes you back flat on the bed, large hands wrapping around your calves and pulling you closer so your ass is just barely hanging off the side. You whimper when he pulls your legs apart, ripping the soaked loincloth from your body, hungry amber eyes staring at your swollen, wet cunt.

“Such a pretty girl,” He moans. The tip of his cock slides along your folds, nudging against your clit before sliding back down and positioning at your entrance. “You ready?”

Your brain is fuzzy and your clit is throbbing, hole clenching with the need to be filled. You close your eyes, looking away from his intense gaze - you don’t want it, you try to remind yourself, you don’t, he’s making you. But a swift smack on your thigh makes your eyes fly open again, Lo’ak’s hard gaze seeming to cut into your very soul.

“Say it, demon. Wanna hear you say it,”

A small cry escapes your lips, body unconsciously trying to bear down on his cock even as you shake your head. He shifts forward just the tiniest bit, lavender tip just barely pressing against your drooling hole enough for it to start to stretch before stopping again.

“‘Need you, Lo'ak,” he recites, brow cocked, expecting you to repeat it. “Say it.”

“Fuck!” Is what comes out instead - a whiny, frustrated curse, that has your eyes tearing up again and Lo’ak’s ears pinning back against his skull.

His hand is quick to wrap around your throat, fingers digging into the blood vessels at the side of your neck as he hisses down at you. Your hands wrap around his wrist again, fingernails digging in and no doubt leaving red crescent shaped marks in the blue skin. He’s not squeezing your neck, not crushing your windpipe out of anger. You can breathe, the gulping breaths your gasping for are making it into your lungs, but the fingers pressing into the blood vessels make it feel like you can’t. Your head is clouding again, fuzzing like TV static, vision going blurry as his hand doesn’t relent.

“Fine,” He grunts. “You don’t wanna talk? Don’t.”

You want to scream when he pushes forward, cock bullying its way past your entrance and inside you, stretching you and filling you up. It’s slow and torturous as he fills you impossibly full, the barbs along his length scraping ruthlessly against your slick walls. He sighs, ears flicking in pleasure as your heat envelopes him, stretching around his girth so perfectly he swears you were made for him.

You can feel the bulge in your belly, the pressure disappearing and reappearing again as he begins to move inside of you. Long, purposeful strokes meant as a punishment, meant to make you feel every agonizingly blissful inch of him as he fucks into your soaked cunt, harder and harder with each thrust. Your mouth moves trying to form words, sound fleeting save for the barely there whispers of ‘fuck’, ‘oh my god’, and ‘please’. Lo’ak hears them anyway, leaning down to silence you with a filthy kiss. His hips pound against yours, unrelenting in their mission to completely fuck the soul of your body, and the sound of slapping skin against skin mix with Lo’ak’s groans and your barely audible breathy whines.

Lo’ak’s fingers find their way to your swollen clit, rubbing persistently at the sensitive nub until you're crying into his mouth, thighs trying desperately to close together but can’t because of his body between them. The thick press of his knot against your entrance is what pushes your oversensitive body over the edge.

At the first suffocating clench of your pussy around his cock, Lo’ak releases your throat letting all the air it felt like you weren’t getting back into your lungs in a rush of oxygen. You gasp, crying against his lips as you arch up against him, creaming pussy fluttering around him as you cum on his cock. He growls when your teeth latch onto his bottom lip, blunt teeth digging in enough to draw blood, but the way he immediately grabs your hips, shoving his knot against you as hard as he would dare without actually penetrating you, tells you that it was a lust filled growl this time, not an angry one.

He moans when he spills himself inside you, face pressed against your neck as he fills you up. You swear it feels almost scorching hot, heating you up from the inside and then out as it spills from around Lo’ak’s still buried cock and runs down the curve of your ass and onto the bed sheets.

Someone clears their throat from behind Lo’ak, and you gasp at the sudden sound, frantically trying to look around Lo’ak’s hulking body to see who it is.

Lo’ak sighs, undisturbed by sudden intrusion, even going as far as rolling his eyes before slowly pulling out of your used cunt - more of his cum spilling out onto the bed now that he’s not still inside you to keep it in. “Wasn’t expecting you today, bro,”

Your eyes widen when he moves out of the way, revealing a smug looking Neteyam in the doorway, still very much dressed up in his warrior’s gear.

“I had to make time to see our pretty little demon,” Neteyam says, bright amber eyes sweeping over your exhausted form. He crosses the room with three long strides, one knee pressing into the bed as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “That was a nice show. I know you’re tired, paskalin,”

His eyes meet yours, amber irises practically swallowed up by the blacks of his pupils. A hand presses against your belly, sneaking down towards your oversensitive pussy, his pointer finger reaching out to tap against your clit as you whine.

“But it’s really not fair that you smell more like Lo’ak than me now, is it?”

**Special thanks to @neteyamsyawntu for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11 @pandoraslxna @avatarwifey

#𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✎#Avatar12DaysofKinkmas #lo'ak smut #lo'ak x female reader #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak x human reader #tw: noncon #tw: non con #tw: dubcon #tw: dubious consent

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amhrosina · 1 year

Note

Ok what about Franks reaction when you come home crying? Idk why, could be anything at all. I’m just imagining Frank excited for you to get home, only for you to come through the door with tear tracks down your face

a/n: ooooooooooo yes! i made frank so soft here i think i need comfort lmfao not quite as angsty as i wanted, but i like how it ended up! also, said this would be a drabble, ended up writing a 1.2k ficlet sooooo enjoy!

warnings: implied violence, implied smut at end, reader gets mugged (off page), f!reader, no use of y/n, frank comforting reader, reader gets a little weepy

masterlist // join my taglist

You never thought you’d reach this point, but you were praying Frank hadn’t made it home from work yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him - you always wanted to see him - but the sight of your swollen, tear-filled eyes would probably send him into a frenzy, and really, all you wanted to do was curl up in his lap and forget about the entire encounter that had left you in tears.

Luck, it seemed, was not on your side, however, because as soon as you stepped into your apartment, Frank’s overwhelming presence was immediately apparent to you. His work boots, neatly lined next to the door, were in the place he always left them when they were too dirty to store in your shared closet. His coat, the one he’d insisted he didn’t need but wore every single day in the winter, was hung in the corner, next to the empty hook that normally held your jacket, scarf, and hat. The most obvious indicator, though, was the irregular clatter of dishes being moved around, used, and discarded in the kitchen.

“Sweetheart?” He called, eagerness clear in his voice. “That you?”

Shit. Suddenly, the guilt of praying he wasn’t home moments before threatened to consume you.

“Sweetheart?”

His voice was closer now, much closer, and you hurriedly swiped the tears away from your cheeks, hoping he wouldn’t notice your blotchy cheeks, or the fact that your eyelids were more swollen than you’d ever seen them. You cleared your throat and tried your best to sound normal.

“Hey, Frankie.”

You turned around to meet him, smiling in an attempt to hide your sorrow, and suddenly felt extremely stupid. Frank wasn’t an idiot, and the look on his face when you finally looked at him told you he was seeing right through the facade.

“What happened?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shrugged, blinking away the fresh wave of tears building in your lash line.

“Did someone hurt you?”

His voice was oddly calm, but there was a bite in his tone that he was clearly trying to suppress.

“No.” You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “I’m fine.”

He blinked down at you, cupping your damp cheeks in his warm palms.

“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying to me, sweetheart?”

“I’m not.” You denied instantly, resolve growing weaker with every pass of his thumb over your cheekbones. He was silent for a moment, eyeing your quivering bottom lip. He took in your appearance, the word ‘disheveled’ coming to mind as he looked you over, before finally pinpointing what was missing from your usual attire.

“Where’s your bag?” He queried, tilting his head slightly.

You huffed, finally allowing the tears to spill onto your cheeks. “I was on the subway and this asshole was crowding me when I got off and before I could even try and get away from him, he took off with my bag.”

“Okay, shh shh shh shh, baby. It’s okay.”

You were, embarrassingly, blubbering at this point. You hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet.

“The necklace you got me for Christmas was in there, Frank.” You sobbed, trying not to think too hard about the lost gift. It had been your most prized possession since the moment you’d put it on. Until this morning, you’d never taken it off. You cursed yourself for thinking it would be safe in your bag. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, honey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not mad, baby. Don’t apologize.” Frank cooed, pressing gentle kisses across your face. He was all too aware of how much that necklace meant to you. “I’m going to make a call, okay?”

“You think you can get it back?” You knitted your brows together in confusion. “I didn’t even get a good look at his face. I have no idea who he is.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He pulled you into his chest and began dialing his phone.

“Who’re you calling?” You questioned further, nuzzling into his warmth.

“Lieberman. If anyone can find the guy, it’s him.”

You listened as Frank relayed the information to Micro, occasionally giving him additional information. Frank’s free hand cupped the back of your head, absent-mindedly running his fingers along the nape of your neck while Micro searched through camera footage and DMV records. You knew the second they’d figured out who did it, so tuned into Frank’s body that you physically felt the tension build in his shoulders.

“You gonna kill him?” You asked, eyes focused on Frank's jaw, which hadn’t unclenched since his conversation with Micro.

“I should.” He mumbled, eyeing your reaction carefully. “He could’ve hurt you.”

“He didn’t, though.” You shrugged, “Maybe he needed food or something.”

Frank’s eyes softened. “Are you really trying to find the good in the man who stole your favorite thing from you?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged again, grinning when Frank huffed in annoyance.

“You’re too nice.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Good thing I’m not.”

“I thought you’d be more mad.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m pissed that he even looked at you.” His jaw clenched impossibly harder. “But I’m just glad you’re safe. If he’d hurt you, though…,” he trailed off, shaking his head, “I don’t know what I’d do. Something illegal. That’s a given.”

You nodded, understanding his desire to protect you. If the roles were reversed, you’d do the same. You sniffed, eyes flicking to the kitchen, where something was definitely burning.

“What were you cooking before I came home?”

Frank stiffened before taking off toward the kitchen. “Holy shit, I forgot I had something in the oven.”

You giggled and followed him through the apartment, the entire encounter on the subway a distant memory already. Frank would take care of it. He always did.

Later, hours after falling asleep on Frank’s chest, the distinct sound of your fire escape window closing woke you from your slumber. Frank was no longer beneath you, and hadn’t been for some time you realized, sliding your fingers over the cool sheets where he’d been earlier.

“Frankie?” You softly called, slightly lifting your head from the pillow.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He gently crawled into bed, hovering over your still mostly-asleep figure and kissing the tip of your nose. “I have something for you.”

He lifted his arm, and you nearly shrieked when you realized what was dangling from between his swollen and slightly bruised fingers.

“You found it?” You gasped.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” He smiled, kissing you again.

“Frank Castle, you absolute fucking gentleman.”

He chuckled at your crude language. “That’s high praise coming from a princess like you.”

You smiled, kissing him deeper. He groaned when you slid your tongue into his mouth.

“Let me show you how grateful I am.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“Baby, you won’t hear any complaints from me. Your wish is my command, princess.”

Tag List:

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt @aynsleywalker @queenofthenoobs @ostricx @horrorflix @xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @fxlsealarm @evyiione @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @rayray787 @ginnysculture @ryebreadsworld @laaundromat @coacaiyne @niki-is-a-thing @deactivating-this-blog @bxmaaa @kentdreamingspam

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aventvrines · 14 days

Text

anytime, anywhere! megumi x reader drabbles, p. short

repost from old acc! reblogs are appreciated<3

megumi fushiguro x gn!reader

cws; none really, femcoded(?) reader, swearing, kissing, sus position but nothing more, idk. three different scenarios but one universe, this can be read as a standalone or a part two to this

wc: 574 total

writing below cut

when yuuji finds out that you and megumi are together, he almost screams. he's raving like a madman–saying everything from i’m happy for you! to what the fuck do you mean you're dating now, so i spent like three hours worrying for nothing?

by the time he finishes, megumi has an awkward smile on his face, and you're laughing bashfully. but yuuji has to admit that side by side on the couch, the two of you do look cute together. he leaves soon after, saying something about giving the newlyweds space. maybe he also feels guilty about the fact that he accidentally told you about megumi's terribly intense crush on you.

and when you're finally alone, megumi lifts your linked hands and shyly kisses yours.

\\\

you yawn, pushing yourself upright on your desk. there's still a considerable amount of time until class ends, but you're pretty sure you're gonna pass out before it does. glancing behind your shoulder, you look for your boyfriend, megumi, only to find him staring back at you. he looks tired too, but when your eyes meet his face breaks out into a lazy grin–one that leaves you weak in the knees.

as soon as your teacher leaves the classroom, students pour out of the large classroom. you wait, and so does megumi, until the room's almost empty. it's then that he approaches you, picking up your bag with one hand as you get up. intertwining your fingers together, he kisses the side of your head gently.

“so, what's for lunch?” he asks.

before you can answer, though, he's shutting you up already. “coffee isn't lunch, baby.”

you pout, leaning into his touch. “whatever.”

\\\

you flop down on the bed beside megumi, glaring at nothing in particular. you've been ignoring him for over an hour now, but he's just not getting the hint. you cough loudly. he still stares at his phone, typing something on it. you cough again, in a way that's clearly fake. this time, he bites.

“what's wrong?”

you frown back at him, silent. megumi raises an eyebrow curiously, turning to you. within a second, he's maneuvered you into a position where he's hovering over you, and you're on your back beneath him.

“oh-” you gasp, surprised, but he cuts you off.

“everythin’ okay?” despite your position being inherently sexual, both his voice and his touch are soft. you stare at the tv playing behind you, resolute in your mission to ignore him. he tilts your head up so that you're forced to look him in the eyes.

“hmm?”

“what date is it?” you demand.

“what?” he's confused.

“what date is it?” you repeat.

“the fourth of february?”

“and?”

“and the 14th?”

“oh!” he falls back onto the bed beside you with a wide grin on his face. “should've just told me, pretty.”

you pout. “i tried.”

“naaah,” he draws out the singular word, twirling a lock of your hair around his fingers. “telling me and ignorin’ me are two different things.” [im so sorry if ur bald]

you want to move away from his touch, but there's just something that keeps you from doing so.

“so,” he smiles lazily, “you gonna be my valentine or what, baby?”

the way he says it is just so damn attractive, and you can't help but blush as you nod. and when he pulls you into his arms, you hear the the words he whispers into your hair. “was gonna ask you soon anyways, sweetheart.”

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peachsayshi · 6 months

Note

aaaah that latest chapter hurts omg can i request a gojo fluff for comfort like reader sitting on his lap, peppering his face with kisses, spoiling him idk I WANNA TAKECARE OF HIM AAAAA

➳ minors / ageless / blank blogs dni ➳ tags: fluff; early phases of an established relationship; satoru being a tad insecure

➳ notes: Im so sorry that im responding to this so late. im still not over *that* chapter. and I've been missing satoru like crazy >.< I hope you enjoy this fluffy drabble for your soul <3 let's show our boy some love

his cheeks, littered by your sweet kisses, turn crimson. satoru chuckles innocently, the glimmer in his eyes indicating that he's growing shy under the heat of your affection.

"you're so cute" you compliment, your fingers combing through the frosty blades of his soft, soft hair. you're still wrapping your mind around the fact that this gorgeous, breathtaking man is all yours.

he flashes you a dopey grin, but there's an expression of disbelief of someone who can't understand why he's receiving this love so generously.

"what's with you?" he questions, his nervous thumbs drawing circles on your waist.

you pout with confusion, twirling your arms around his neck. "nothing," you reply nonchalantly as you lean forward to peck his mouth, "just admiring how pretty you are..."

"yeah?" your boyfriend replies, his voice wavering with uncertainty and it makes your heart squeeze in your chest. "you sure you don't need something?"

placing your hands on his broad shoulders, you press yourself up to look at him and make sure that he isn't teasing you with a joke that will have you lecturing him unnecessarily. upon meeting his gaze, you part your lips in surprise. his blue eyes are detached, shimmering with disappointment that he's actually anticipating.

you swallow the lump in your throat, wondering if up until this point he was simply treated as the "rich trophy boyfriend" by all his other exes.

satoru always played off those relationships as if they didn't matter to him, but you can see the scars that were clearly left behind.

you cup his cheeks in the palm of your hands, heart melting into his lap watching his face soften from the intimate gesture. you arch forward while guiding him to meet you halfway for a kiss, your thumb outlining his pretty pink lips.

"just need you, handsome" you whisper with a smile, before following up your statement with another kiss to the tip of his nose.

you lightly trace your index finger over the apple of his cheek, watching as he circles your wrist with his hand to peck the inside of your pulse point. he returns to rest his cheek against your palm, his crystal irises gazing up at you in awe and appreciation.

he nips at his bottom lip bashfully, "alright. I'll let you keep going. this...this feels really nice..."

your body blooms with love from his cute response. you kiss the crown of his head in adoration before wrapping him up in the warmest hug you can deliver.

➳ requests are closed.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x female reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jujustu kaisen fluff #satoru gojo fluff #jjk fluff #last request for the day x

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anashins · 27 days

Note

So this just happened to me but I found out my bf doesn’t have my contacts saved with any kind of emoji or cute nickname. Maybe a suggestion for a Drabble? Feel like a child writing this but idk how this has me so bummed and sad

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: fluff, romance

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: As you find out that Jaehyun doesn't have your contact saved on his phone under a cute nick name, you start comparing your relationship to others. After all, that must mean you're not special to him - right?

A/N: I hope everything went well for you, dear! My bf always says, “I don’t know, you have to tell me!” - so just tell him! Because men are simple but their partners' feelings matter to them, even if they seem childish to you 💞

“Under which name did your boyfriend save you on his phone? You know that?”

You looked at your best friend who tilted her head as though in deep thoughts. For a moment, you hoped she wouldn’t know, wouldn’t care, and that you were overdramatic after all like you had feared all along, but almost instantly, she replied,

“When we started dating, he had me saved as ‘my girl’ without any kind of emoji. When we officially decided to get together, he saved my contact as ‘baby’ with a pink heart, and it remained like this until now.”

Your best friend wasn’t the first one who you had asked and whose answer was almost identical to your other taken friends you had questioned about this topic: Their boyfriends all had them saved on their phones with either a cute nickname, some meaningful emoji or both.

Your own boyfriend had you saved on his phone under your government name.

You usually never looked at his screen as there were always so many things going on with different people from his group, from his management and from people in the industry in general, so it was always buzzing anyway.

But when a week ago you had been lying next to him, sending him pictures from the activity you had done together shortly before, your name popped up in his chat history.

Your full name.

You had been bummed, and he had happily continued on as if he hadn’t minded you seeing this, as if this was the most normal thing in the world and didn’t make you feel less special among all his other contacts - and there were a lot for an idol.

After all, even when you didn’t have as many connections as him, you had your boyfriend saved as,

‘Yuno-ya’ with a pink heart.

It wasn’t the most romantic nickname as you weren’t calling each other pet names at all, but still cute and emphasized his contact to filter his name out of all other people.

Now, hearing all the other boyfriends having your female friends saved as something special, it made you feel even sadder as if the entire thing hadn’t been bothering you for a week already.

“Under which name has your boyfriend your contact saved on his phone?” your best friend questioned back.

You sighed out loud.

“I don’t like it when you make that face,” Jaehyun immediately said to you instead of a greeting when you came over to his house later that day. “And you have randomly started making it the last time we met. I’ve been worrying all week, but on the phone you always say everything is fine when it’s clearly not. Tell me now, did I do something wrong?”

You bit into your bottom lip. You felt that now was the chance, now or never before it would eat you up from the inside and you would never be able to let go of it. “Under which name do you have me saved on your phone?”

Jaehyun widened his eyes, completely blindsided by this unexpected silly question, apparently. “Pardon?”

“My contact,” you described it better for him. “Under which name can you find me in your contacts?”

He confusedly proceeded to speak out your full government name.

“Exactly!” you called him out.

“I don’t understand.”

“You have me saved in your contacts under my full name!”

“Well… isn’t that your full name? Under what name should I save you then? Should I make one up or…” He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on! What’s the problem here?”

You folded your arms in front of your chest. The longer you went on to explain this situation to a very oblivious Jaehyun, the sillier you started to feel. Were you exaggerating? But none of your friends had said so and claimed your feelings were valid.

Suddenly, your voice was very low when you poured out your feelings to him as there was no turning back anymore. “My friend’s boyfriends have them all saved on their phones under some cute nickname. Or with a cute emoji at least. I also have you saved as Yuno-ya with a heart. It makes the other person feel special and makes the contact stand out from everyone else. It gives you a little surge of excitement whenever that person’s name pops up. As you have me saved with my full government name… it makes me think if you see me as everyone else and I’m not that special to you.”

Your breakout followed a few moments of silence in which you kept your gaze locked to the ground as you were now kind of too embarrassed to face Jaehyun. Hearing these words… you felt so childish.

The pat you felt on the top of your head only shortly later convinced you of the opposite though. When you lifted your head, Jaehyun wasn’t laughing and he didn’t look like he wanted to make fun of you or didn’t understand your feelings at all.

“I’m sorry,” he said with genuine concern. “I… didn’t know. I have everyone saved on my phone with their full government name as there are just so many people that it really gives me a hard time to separate them all or even remember who they are. Even the members aren’t an exception, only my parents. It was just a habit I followed when we exchanged contacts and I was never bothered enough to change it. If I had known it was this important to you, I would have done it right away.”

Was it really this simple? Some men like your boyfriend just didn’t know, were totally unaware of such things and you simply needed to tell them to change whatever bothered you, no matter how silly and childish it might sound?

He was a perfect partner for you and you couldn’t believe you let such a futile thing question his feelings for an entire week.

Jaehyun smiled at you and pulled out his phone. “Don’t ever think again that you’re not special to me and I never feel excitement rushing through me whenever your name pops up on my phone. Your chat is pinned at the very top and your number saved as favorites. Among everyone I regularly keep in contact with, even if I don’t answer for hours, I always answer you first. I always recognize your picture, no matter how many times you change it. Upon first glance, I always recognize it’s you. My beautiful girl.”

He gave you a kiss on the cheek and then proceeded to type something into his phone with a wide grin, obviously changing your name name.

“What did you save my contact under now?” you asked and wanted to catch a glimpse, but Jaehyun quickly pulled his phone away from you.

“Text me now and you’ll see.”

#jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x you #nct x reader #nct 127 x you #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #requests

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here2bbtstrash · 1 year

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Request: Jimin and/or Hobi x innocent/virgin reader. innocence/corruption kink. maybe teaching her how to do a blowjob idk. smut.

WOOOOOF usually virgin/innocent smut is not really my bag but. idk. the stars aligned and in this moment it was very much my bag. we went full nasty with it 🙆‍♀️ thank you for this req - i hope you enjoy!!! 🌹

~taking jihope drabble requests all month!!~

pairing: hoseok x virgin!reader wordcount: it's like 1.2k but we had a vision alright contains: member POV 😈, alcohol mention, reader is a virgin and v sexually inexperienced (it's her first time doing like everything okay), hobi is a good teacher tho 😏, first blowjob, he is... definitely turned on by her innocence (i mean this is really what it says on the tin lmao), some dirty talk/name calling, face fucking, might be under-negotiated if u squint, she touches herself, a surprise facial lol, manhandling, he eats her out over her underwear - i think that's it !!

~*~

You’ve never done this before.

That’s all Hoseok can think as you sink to your knees in front of him, eyes big and blinking, awaiting instruction.

It’s why you picked him, he’d learned tonight, after you’d sipped at your vodka cranberry until it loosened your lips. You’d swiped on his dating app profile after seeing his listed occupation: dance instructor.

That’s what you needed. A teacher.

You’d confessed it with your face buried in your palms, drunk enough to say it but sober enough to still feel the shame. Growing up, you’d listened to the stories as your friends started having sex, blossoming one by one into experienced, confident adults. But it just never happened for you.

And now, here you are. A late bloomer. Inexperienced. “A virgin,” you’d admitted, mortified. “It’s fucking embarrassing.”

Hoseok thought it was hot, actually, but he kept that to himself.

He knows he’s a good teacher: attentive, detail-oriented, a good communicator. And very patient. But fuck, if seeing you sit back on your socked heels and lick your lips doesn’t test that patience.

“Take it out, baby.”

You fumble open the button on his jeans, shaky-handed, clearly nervous, so Hoseok helps you out, easing pants and boxers down in one go. He doesn’t miss the look on your face as you take him in.

God, he’s already hard and you haven’t so much as breathed on him.

“Ever seen one before?” he murmurs, fingers carding through your hair.

The self-conscious exhale you let out tells him the answer before you even find the words. You don’t have to.

“That’s okay. Just touch it.”

Hoseok can barely bite back his groan when you wrap your hand around him and give a tentative squeeze. He allows you a second to get used to the weight of him, the feeling, velvet firm and blood hot.

Shy little thing with a cock in her hand. He’ll ruin you if you let him. Take every first you’re willing to give.

You shift on the floor, and Hoseok thinks maybe you’re gonna ask to stop, crawl back into his bed for another hour of his tongue in your mouth, his hands pawing at your tits over your shirt.

But then he feels it: the soft pink drag of your tongue at the crown of his cock. One pass, then two. Like he’s a fucking ice cream cone.

It tears a rough sound from the back of his throat. He wonders if you can feel him pulse in your hand, if you can taste the precum drooling out of his slit as you keep on kitten licking at him.

“Yeah, you wanna taste?” he asks, and you nod with his cock still on the flat of your tongue. “Suck on the tip,” he instructs, because this is what you’re here for. “Just watch your teeth.”

With a soft noise, you do what your teacher says.

Hoseok’s first taste of the sweet, wet warmth of your mouth is made twice as good by the way you glance up at him through your lashes, clearly searching for an affirmation that you’re doing it right. Too innocent to know what you look like: a perfect little whore.

“So pretty like this, baby,” he groans, ever a believer in positive reinforcement. “Suckin’ on your very first cock.”

A muscle in your throat jumps; he wonders if that’s a twinge of embarrassment rolling through you. Wonders if it’s fucked up how much he likes that.

“Want some more?” he asks, and you’re already stretching your lips further down his shaft, dragging his entire tip and then some over the hot stripe of your tongue. Hoseok cups your jaw with one hand as he pushes into your mouth, gentle as he can. He can’t quite hide the ragged edge to his breathing.

“Hollow your cheeks,” he rasps. “Suck harder.”

The added pressure when you tighten up around him nearly makes his knees buckle.

“Fuck,” he moans, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck. “That’s it.”

Your rhythm isn’t perfect, but he figures maybe the best way to teach is by example, so he reaches down to hold your head in both hands as his hips start to kick forward.

“Let me use you, baby,” Hoseok breathes, and he didn’t really mean to say it out loud, but the noise you make around his dick is everything he needs to hear.

Another low moan rips through him at the sight of you, his little virgin down on her knees and just fucking taking it, and he picks up the pace, deliberately fucks into your mouth like he wants to mold your tongue in the shape of him.

“Already a slut for this cock, huh?”

A crease notches between Hoseok’s brows. His eyes drink you in as his hips roll: the willing gape of your mouth, the flutter of your lashes, the thick spit gloss spilling from the seal of your lips.

And then his gaze tracks lower, and– oh.

You’ve let your knees peel apart, just enough to hitch your skirt up the smooth skin of your thighs, and the hand that isn’t clung to Hoseok’s hip for balance has snaked its way between your legs. But you’re not touching yourself, not really. You’re just… grinding the flat of your palm into your underwear. Thin white cotton, plain and not meant to be sexy, not bought for anyone else to ever see. Somehow the hottest fucking thing.

Hoseok chokes on a whine because fuck, is this how you always get off? Too sweetly unsure to actually masturbate, just rutting your hot little pussy against your hand, a plushie, the corner of your bed.

Ashamed of the pleasure and chasing it anyway.

The thought is dizzying, distractingly so, and he miscalculates a thrust, feels the head of his cock scrape the back of your throat and everything clench tight at the intrusion.

He pulls out with a gasp to give you a second, but even the friction of that quick drag is enough to tip him over the edge, and then his hand is mindlessly tugging at his wet shaft because he needs to come so fucking bad.

And then he does, he is, he’s coming, sticky thick ropes of it leaking from the head of his dick before he can even warn you. All that he manages is another groan as he paints you, white streaks splattering over your cheeks, down your neck, a little in your hair; making a mess of you.

To Hoseok’s surprise, you don’t react with disgust or even shock. Instead a soft moan slips through your spit-slicked lips, and your hips buck harder against your palm, and he can’t hold back another fucking second.

He’s already on the floor, and maybe it’s too rough, the way he drags your hips toward him until you’re flat on your back, but he can’t not do it. Can’t not shove your legs open to bury his face between your thighs, can’t not lick up the already soaked-through seat of your panties and gasp against it at the raw taste of you.

And he’s the first to ever have it.

It doesn’t take much, just a few more drags of his tongue, rubbing firmly at the clothed seam of your virgin pussy until your hips shove up and your hands tangle in his hair as you come.

Hoseok can already tell he’ll play the moment back until he wears out the mental recording of it: your spine arching off the hardwood floor, his cum still dripping down your face as you moan like the whore he knew he could make of you.

After all, he’s a very good teacher.

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #hoseok x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #anonymous #mbox 📮#jihope month 🌹#jihope month drabbles 💌

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