#im searching for another chest
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no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.
simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.
that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?
he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.
it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.
he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.
the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.
your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.
he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.
‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’
the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.
“promise me something?”
“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”
“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”
he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.
“yes.”
“promise.” you urged. “please.”
he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”
you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”
“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”
he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.
fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.
his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.
“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.
he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.
he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.
he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.
he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.
“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”
“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.
“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”
“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”
“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”
“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.
“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.
“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.
simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simons a loverboy at heart#simon is not ghost
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Uninvited, Unexpected.
a/n: it's nice until the very end. it hints at baby trapping. one solid sentence that's kinda degrading (i couldn't help myself ok) this was in the works for so long, i did so much research just to use words. english is hard. and ignore the plot holes, for my sake. my sanity.
this is SMUT. 18+mdni please (if im missing anything else, lmk)
ty to my wonderful beta readers @waves-against-a-cliff & @xoxunhinged
wc: 3,1K
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!reader
You're awoken by a loud noise. At first, you think you dreamt it. Exploding head syndrome, maybe. You strain your hearing but it's quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling, its old bones creaking in the dead of night. Rain gently patters against the windows, blurring the world outside.
A flash of sudden light illuminates the bedroom, casting elongated shadows across the floor, followed by a loud crack that rattles the glass. Thunder. You should've guessed.
The frantic beating of your heart slows to a gentle roll, and your eyes leaden with sleep. The soft pillows beckon, the warm blankets cradle you as you sink back onto the mattress.
Only for you to be snapped back into reality, drowsiness dissipating like a morning mist.
Someone's knocking on your door.
Your heart is in your throat as you quickly peel off the blankets, the chill of the floorboards underneath your bare feet seeping into your bones.
In the bookshelf sits the gun Simon had given you before he had moved out, the rumble of his voice a ghost in your ear. "For protection," he'd murmured, placing the cold metal onto your open palms. "Jus' in case."
Your trembling fingers fumble as you search for it in the dark, flinching as a couple of books spill from the shelf onto the floor, pages rustling in your urgency.
The knocking persists.
The metal of the grip is unyielding in your clammy hands. You've never tested it before, never had the displeasure. As you hold it close to your chest with a quivering breath, you hope tonight won't change that.
Simon's instructions echo in your mind as you approach the front door. "Thumb the safety. Hold the grip with both hands. Do not, under any circumstance, put your finger on the trigger unless you're plannin' on sendin' hate. Clear?"
Your throat tightens, a phantom snake coiling around the narrow passage, and panic grips your heart as you reach for the blinds, slowly hooking two fingers and carefully pulling down to look at who is—
Simon.
Simon?
Sweat-slick fingers flip the light switch before quickly undoing the locks, the hinges groaning in protest as the door opens.
"What the hell?"
It's Simon, disheveled— maskless— swaying on his feet. His eyes are half-closed and unfocused. Johnny's holding him up by the arm, struggling to keep him upright.
"S'ry, bonnie. We wen' out fer a few 'nd clearly, he's out 'is face. Quite crabbit, too. He said ye'd let 'em sleep 'ere," he slurs.
Simon's not the only one who's pissed. With a resigned sigh, you gesture at the couch with your free hand. "There, I guess."
That he thought of you even in his drunken haze tugs at your fragile heartstrings.
Johnny guides him to the catch, a quiet C'mon LT to spur him forward. Heavy boots thud against the floor as they stumble toward the living room while you carefully place the gun on the kitchen countertop before reaching for a water bottle in the pantry. Johnny snickers under his breath as Simon collapses onto the sofa, the springs protesting his weight.
Two bottles, then.
You watch Simon's head loll as you hand Johnny the water. "Tell me you aren't the one driving, Johnny," you grumble.
He takes it with a quiet thanks. "Naw. Cap'n's stone cold sober."
Small mercies.
Johnny gives Simon a rough slap to the side of his leg as he bids him goodbye, pulling you in for an embrace tight enough that your spine pops before walking out the door.
You let out another sigh as the lock clicked back into place. The tangy, sour scent of stale alcohol mixed with stings at your nose, as does the invasive smell of smoke.
His boots are mud-caked, and you'll be damned if he stains your nice furniture with his mess. "Shoes off." He groans but complies. The laces come undone quickly, and you tug his shoes off with a grunt. "Simon."
His glassy eyes meet yours. "Drink your water." The burning need to chuck it at his head is one you have to vehemently smother into embers. Moron. Only Simon would have the gall to show up unannounced months after the separation. And drunk.
You push the bottle into his chest roughly and make to go back to bed when he encircles his hand around your wrist and the world spins on its axis, suddenly finding yourself beneath him with his face nestled in the crook of your neck.
Simon's breath is hot against your skin, the weight of his body pinning you down so achingly familiar. It stirs up past memories that would have you pressing your thighs together if he wasn't right there, using his broad waist to spread them apart.
"Missed ya, love." A confession. "S'much."
The breath you draw is jagged, his slow-spoken words hanging in the air. You want to push him away, scream at him for stumbling in and disrupting your night, your rest, your carefully crafted peace. But there's a part of you that can't help but soften at the tenderness in his tone.
"Simon," you whisper. "You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying—" his lips find your fluttering pulse. You find purchase in his shirt, shaky fingers grasping at the hem.
"'M drunk, no' no liar." Your resolve wavers. No, he never had been. Honesty hadn't been the reason for the split. It wasn't the truth he'd spoken but the truths he'd kept to himself. A fortress around his heart, the bridge to its gates raised. Unwilling to share a burden, share a life.
His warm tongue licks a hot stripe up your neck reaching the lobe of your ear where his blunt teeth sink into it. A choked gasp spills from your mouth, spine arching in reflex— your treacherous body remembering his touch, yearning for it.
"Simon—" your words get caught in your throat; snag like fishhooks when he undulates his hips, arousal creeping along your veins like ivy.
"Don't ya miss me, pet?" You've asked him to not call you that because it never fails to stoke the fire in your belly, to sodden your knickers. Before you can chide him on his choice of words, he shifts. One arm, an inked column under the soft light of the living room, holds him up just enough to bring his rugged face into focus. His eyes, like a stormy night's sky, swirl with untamed desire.
You know it's dangerous to play with fire. Touch it and burn, ache, blister. But the passion of this old flame beckons like a siren with sharp teeth. Each drag of his prominent erection against your core only succeeds in pulling you away from the shore of clarity. It's disorienting, insistent.
Relentless.
"My pretty little love," he mumbles. Simon's gaze drags from your glassy eyes to the delicate contours of your collarbone. His fingers trace lines of intimacy onto the swell of your breasts before using the pad of his thumb to swirl the stiffened peak of your nipple. "Say the word 'nd it all stops."
The scent of alcohol clings to him, a bitter reminder of the loss of inhibitions it brings as it warms one's chest. Blurred lines he might not mind, but you do. Lost boundaries. Rejection sits on the tip of your tongue, on the edge of your teeth when he says something that frays the last threads of your resolve.
It comes undone.
"Please. Jus' tonigh'. All I need." His words sound like footsteps in winter mire, slushed, syllables blending together.
You'll just have to kick him out on his arse in the morning.
"Okay," you breathe. Just one night, you tell yourself. He's always been good to you in the bedroom. One last hurrah wouldn't hurt. Maybe it'll allow you to finally close this painful chapter in your life and start anew, with pristine white pages and fresh ink.
Your hands, trembling with nerves and anticipation, cradle his face. The roughness of his stubble in contrast with the softness of your palms is grounding, keeping you from being pulled under your own swirling emotions.
" 'M righ' 'ere, love. You're safe with me, always." He whispers the last words reverently, a vow. Simon's breath mingles with yours as he leans in for a kiss.
The world around you fades, your senses tunneled on the feel of his lips, the taste of him— mildly sweet with a hint of peppermint. He slants his head to deepen the kiss, and the bruising ache in your heart is replaced by another, one that burns brightly and threatens to sweep you away.
The lulling sound of the pouring rain outside is drowned out by the beating of your racing heart.
The bed creaks when Simon perches you on the edge of it, quietly ordering you to take your top off.
"What about my bottoms?" You bite down on the gummy inside of your cheek when he pins you in place with a look— a predator eyeing its prey.
"Those are mine." Resounding. Final. A gavel in a courtroom.
You fling your shirt off, tossing it into some forgotten corner in the room, and cheekily watch Simon undress. It's not methodical like it used to be. No longer a means to an end. Experienced fingers undo the buckle of his belt before he takes it off, the leather material snapping in the air, slicing through the silence.
A quip tumbles out of your mouth faster than you can stop it. "Gonna spank me with that?"
The air around you thickens— or thins, you can't be sure— when his eyes flash to you. He kicks off his jeans, one foot after the other, wobbling as he does. "Tha' wha' you want?" The words he didn't say ring out loud and clear.
Don't rattle the cage, sweetheart. This dog isn't muzzled.
You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from saying anything else, something that he might take you up on, instead focusing on the way his heavy cock hangs in between legs (dangling with each step forward—)
"M'eyes are up 'ere." Your nose scrunches at his joke. Cute.
He lowers himself onto his knees, your legs cradling his face as it hovers over your sex, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your heated skin.
The sleeping shorts you're wearing are ratty and worn. They're thin too, practically translucent from constant use. Which means that he can see that you're not wearing any undergarments underneath.
"Hope you know I can—" Heat licks up the sides of your jaw, pooling in your cheeks as you cut him off with a snappy remark.
"Yes. I know."
The tip of his pointed tongue drags along the seam of your shorts, right along your slit. Your breath hitches, and you clench your jaw to keep from making a sound. Your back bows involuntarily, the feeling startling, intense.
"Can see tha' clear as day, as if lookin' through a windowpane, pet," he taunts. The words that are forming, almost ready to spill out, freeze in place when his mouth comes in direct contact with your slippery cunt. He licks once, twice, through your folds, slightly dipping into your slick entrance, only pulling away to nuzzle your pearl with his misaligned nose.
"Sweet as a peach, jus' like I remember," he purrs, the timbre of his voice buzzing against your puffy lips. "Missed this." A mewl slithers past your grit teeth when he gently sinks one thick finger into you, curling and twisting. Arousal drips onto his knuckle, tracing a hot path down to his wrist. He coos at you when he adds another digit, hissing at the sharp but brief pinprick of the stretch.
"Bloody fuckin' tight." Simon rises off the floor, the quiet sound of his knees popping swallowed up by your harsh pants. "Gotta let me in, love. Relax."
He keeps the thrusts shallow, his fingers dragging deliciously along your nerve endings. The sting soon fades, giving way to a gentle warmth that unfurls inside of you, letting Simon reach deeper until—
Your muscles stiffen, tight like a spring when he brushes over the rough patch of skin that has bursts of light appearing across your eyelids.
"Look at ya. Droolin' like a mutt with my fingers stuffed up your pretty cunt."
There's a pressure in your lower belly that's steadily building with each sloppy thrust of his hand, pulling squelching noises from your sodden pussy. He finally, finally, latches onto your neglected clit, lightly sucking on it in tandem with his fingers.
Your chin drops to your chest as everything nears a breaking point. The pressure inside you has your body wound tight. The fibers of your muscles contract, almost painfully, preparing for the release of what's to come, what can't be ignored.
The swirling of his golden tongue pushes against the boundaries of your endurance, pushes you to the precipice, where you finally hit the point of no return. You can feel something about to give, ecstasy trickling through the cracks in your foundation, uncontrollable, raw. Your fingers thread through Simon's hair, curling tightly, pulling it taut when you feel something about to give—oh fuck—
Snap.
The structure that holds everything in place collapses.
A sudden release of pent-up energy and emotion erupts like a dam bursting, a cleansing flood that washes away the grime of old wounds, of bitterness, leaving the edges softened so they can heal; knit closed and scar over. Closure. It touches every part of you, filling you with a sense of liberation.
Your heart beats freely, it throbs with life as a wave of relief washes over you, soothing, a balm over scraped flesh, a rush of cool air into starved lungs.
A lightness that comes after being weighed down with burdens for so long.
Simon's hands encircle your arms firmly— fingers digging into the meat of your biceps— and effortlessly maneuvers you toward the center of the bed as if your lethargic form were a feather caught in a breeze; weightless, insignificant.
Gentle but unyielding.
There's a ringing in your ears that muffles his voice, blurring the edges of his words, an unintelligible hum, as if you were underwater. The sensation leaves you feeling adrift in a tranquil sea, cradled in its silken embrace. The only anchor you have to the muzzy reality is his warm touch.
"'M sorry, sweetheart. I can't," he apologizes, hooking your right leg over his shoulder. You let out a sibilant hiss as he leans forward, pushing your knee to your chest, the corded muscle of your hamstring pulling to its limit. "Can't wait anymore, 'm sorry."
Simon gives you a sloppy kiss as his heaving length prods at your swollen entrance, the tip breaching your pussy with a warm burn that starts from under your navel and only flares, radiating from your core outward. It's searing, the initial bite of the stretch disrupts the haze in your muddled mind, bringing the world around you into cutting clarity.
A guttural noise claws up his throat as Simon sheathes himself halfway, his growled words not the salve he was hoping for. It only grates at already raw nerves, abrasive.
"Jus' a little more, you can take it." He winds a hand downward to draw messy circles on your slippery clit, to stifle the roaring fire in your stomach, your chest. "You already have."
His jerky touch does its job, transforming the sharp burn of him wrenching your walls apart fiber by fiber into a quiet glow; smoldering heat now simmering. You soften, mellow and pliant, accept him into your body as he sinks to the hilt with a quiet groan.
"There's my girl. Takin' all of it like you were made f'me." Simon's words of praise tangle around your spine, electric, prickling. Your heart gallops like a herd of horses, wild and free. "Liked tha' did you? Jus' about strangled my cock with your tight cunt."
He rolls his hips once, twice, searching for signs of discomfort, but when only warm pleasure laps at your heels, when the barest of moans spill from your open lips, Simon begins to put his weight behind his thrusts.
Through half-lidded eyes, you see a raw, primal hunger reflected in his eyes— his soul, the one he'd claimed to have lost long ago, back with his reason, his sanity.
Yet he looks down at you as if you were his only salvation. A lifeline he grabs onto with an unyielding grip, his only tether to hope, purpose. A lighthouse shining in a raging storm, a beacon calling him home.
Simon presses a large hand onto your lower stomach, his work-worn palm pushing until you wince, brows furrowing at the fleeting whisper of pain.
"Can feel myself right here," he sluggishly mumbles, drunk of the feel of your cunt, the taste of your skin on his tongue— sweet like ripened figs. The sensory overload has him sinking his fingers into your flesh until it dimples.
He murmurs something under his taxed breath, something akin to mine, only mine as his lips leave a slick trail of saliva on the dip of your collarbone, the gentle curve of your shoulder, the thin, soft skin of your bicep up to your inner wrist, where he laps at your pulse.
As if savoring the present. The precious gift he's unwrapped, here and now. The last taste of you, which he hopes with a reverence that borders on prayer, lingers on his tongue long after the fruit— the sweet evidence of this one last intimacy— falls from the bough.
Simon comes with his teeth in the crook of your neck, biting down with a crushing pressure that has an acute pain digging its spurs into your consciousness, cutting the blazing euphoria of your own release short.
His cock is still twitching as he fills you with his spend when he takes his thumb and collects some of your slick to take you over the edge one last time.
"F'me. You can take it, yeah? I'll go slow, I promise."
Simon presses a kiss on your sweaty temple, his large hand cupping your jaw as he lazily watches you succumb to sleep, your breath evening out.
He reaches for your arm again, feeling for the birth control implant you'd had there when the both of you were still together.
Gone.
Sweet girl. You'd let him in without a fight. (He makes a mental note to wash the beer off of his clothes tomorrow.)
He knows your cycle better than the lines that are etched onto his palm. Better than the voice of the captain who rumbles in his earpiece, ordering him to go for the throat.
From the moment you'd stepped into his life with eternity in your eyes and the warmth of the sun on your lips, you were his. And he'll do anything to remain in your orbit.
(left unable to distinguish prison from paradise when each poison-coated kiss softens the world he'll build for you and for what's to come.)
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#cod mw2#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley smut#cod smut#simon ghost riley x f reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley smut
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summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k
content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉
> in which masterlist!
note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3
—
“jungkook, baby?”
your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.
“babe?”
you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.
him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.
and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.
but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.
you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.
the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.
he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?
agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.
maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.
whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.
in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.
you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.
jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.
clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.
but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.
your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.
not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.
you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.
the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.
you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.
anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.
—
jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.
when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.
night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.
“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.
the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.
“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.
his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.
“are you crying?!”
your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.
“baby!”
he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”
“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”
this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.
“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”
his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.
you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.
“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”
from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.
“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”
now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.
but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.
“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.
he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.
“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”
“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.
he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”
fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.
“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.
the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.
“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”
“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”
“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”
you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.
“____!”
and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.
“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”
you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.
“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”
you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”
“are you sure?”
he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.
“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”
“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”
“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”
“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.
“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.
and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.
“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”
“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”
“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”
he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.
“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.
he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.
and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.
“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”
if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.
however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.
“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”
jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.
may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.
“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”
he winces guiltily.
“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”
“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.
he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.
“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”
unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.
—
“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.
“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.
you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.
of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.
“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.
“rice,” he demands as he chews.
you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.
“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.
witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.
“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.
“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.
“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”
but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.
“i just told you to eat first!”
you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”
he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.
“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”
he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.
—
you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.
with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.
and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.
and it was cold. it was always cold.
“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”
“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”
“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”
“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”
“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”
your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.
a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.
your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.
oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.
“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.
the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.
“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.
the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.
he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.
“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”
you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.
you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.
you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.
“are you spiderman?”
he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”
you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”
he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”
“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“
“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”
your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.
“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”
you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.
“uh?! i’m serious over here!”
this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.
“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”
he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.
“i’ll go with you,”
“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”
“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.
“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”
“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”
that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.
“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”
“this is very normal,” he argues.
the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.
“some would even say romantic.”
a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.
you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.
you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.
—
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook drabble#jungkook one shot#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts fluff#bts reaction#jungkook smut
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Gosh i just loved your Sunday fic.. 😫
Im wondering what about a naive type darling? With so much isolation, it has made darling insecure. Darling thinks Sunday deserves a better woman and just ups and leaves Sunday when he isnt home. But ofc is soon found not long after 😋
ohhhh so personally i imagine this happening after sunday uses the harmony one too many times on poor reader…you never saw it coming, never would have thought sunday would hurt you despite being isolated for so long. any thoughts you had about escaping, even going outside to see friends, are obliterated. sunday becomes your whole world.
Yan!Sunday x Naive!Gn!Reader
You’ve been standing in front of Sunday’s door, fist raised and poised to knock, for twenty minutes now.
For what feels like the millionth time, you lower your hand, worrying your lip.
He’s been in there all day. Sunday is a busy man, his schedule constantly filled with meetings and Family affairs, but never too occupied that he would ignore you for an entire day.
Your mind fears the worst; even those initial days of being drowned in the Harmony, before you realized Sunday was trying to help you adjust to your life with him, is preferable to this. Did you do something wrong? Who is he in there with? Is he ignoring you?
Has he…grown tired of you?
The mere thought chills your heart and fills your veins with ice as you take a step back, inhaling sharply.
The wooden door before you is polished to a fault, bright enough that you can see your faint outline. It bitterly reminds you of how inferior you are compared to him, a mere speck of dust, a fleeting shadow on the wall.
You start to spiral. Surely Sunday, the most handsome and sought after man in Penacony, could have his pick of anyone—so why would he settle on you? Why did he bring you here, trap you in this mansion, keep you by his side, if only to throw you away in the end?
Did he never love you?
Why does that thought hurt you so much?
Heart pounding and tears blurring your vision, you quickly turn and flee, your knock forgotten.
~*~
It has long grown dark on the streets of the Golden Hour.
The normally bustling city is slumbering, the only light provided by the plethora of flashing billboards that never sleep. The few individuals you have passed are either drunks stumbling home or the stray Intellitron. You’ve been walking aimlessly for hours, wiping away tears and fruitlessly searching for a way to escape to reality.
After all your time mulling in your sadness and insecurities, you have come to the conclusion that you should relieve Sunday of his care of you. He’s much better off without you, or rather with a better individual than you. He should be dating royalty, a celebrity, an angel. The type of person who would have knocked on that door, would have strutted confidently into his office and sat directly into his lap to—
Another pair of footsteps echo behind you.
You almost don’t hear them at first, but you most definitely see the haloed shadow on the wall in front of you.
“And where do you think you’re going, (Y/n)?”
You immediately freeze, your breathing becoming erratic and shallow. His voice sends little butterflies pounding against your chest, begging to fly to him.
“Do you really think this pathetic attempt to escape would succeed?” A hand wraps around your waist, spinning you around to meet golden eyes rimmed in violet. You expect them to be filled with anger, perhaps even loathing, but you’re shocked to discover they are brimming with nothing but thinly veiled panic.
His grip tightens when you don’t respond immediately. “Answer me, (Y/n).” His voice cracks as he says your name again. “Where have you been?”
Words clog in your throat. “I—I thought—you were—you didn’t want—”
“I’ve been searching everywhere for you. You weren’t thinking. I believed we had moved beyond your futile attempts to leave, that you understood that you are mine—”
“But what if I don’t deserve to be yours!”
The two of you freeze in the wake of your outburst. His breath hitches as you lower your head and whisper softly, “I thought you stopped loving me the same as I love you.”
For once, you’ve caught Sunday off guard. His beautiful gaze widens in shock as he truly takes in your form—shivering, tears rolling down your cheeks, nails digging into your palms—and realizes his mistake.
You left because you thought he didn’t want you.
The mere idea baffles him. Standing before him is the most beautiful individual he has ever seen. Every fiber of his being screams for him to lock you in a birdcage and throw away the key—you are a precious treasure, meant to sing only for him. He has created you to be the perfect devotee in his very image.
And all of his efforts have succeeded, because you said you loved him.
His anger and fear immediately melt into softness as he holds your face between both hands, his forehead lowered to press against yours. “Oh, darling, no. You cannot fathom the adoration I harbor for you, the multitude of praises I wish to preach each day in your name.”
His voice takes on a nearly holy reverence, but his eyes shine with an untamed desire. “There is nowhere you belong except for by my side. Finding you missing this evening nearly tore my heart out. You must never venture out again, do you understand, my precious dove?”
You sniff and lean into his touch, a smile parting the river of your tears. Yes, that’s right. That’s what the Harmony said before, too: your purpose is to please Sunday, to serve Sunday, to live for Sunday.
Why would you ever doubt his love?
Why would you ever want to leave him? What a silly idea.
You think you feel a tiny pull at the back of your mind, a hook that wants to tether you to reality. But a quick slash of a knife severs the line, leaving you floating in a sea of multicolored bliss.
“I’ll never doubt you again, Sunday. I love you.”
Sunday’s lips curl into a smirk as he lifts your chin and examines the rainbows dancing in your eyes. “I love you, too, (Y/n).”
#yandere sunday#yandere sunday x reader#yandere sunday x you#yandere hsr#yandere honkai star rail#yandere#yandere headcanons#yanderecore#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#yandere imagines#yandere male#honkai star rail imagines#honkai x reader#honkai star rail#sunday hsr#hsr sunday#sunday
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all yours ⎯ ౨ৎ
syn. making out with jake. that’s the post.
note. reader has hair long enough to tuck behind ears
wc. 0.4k
a/n. i was brainstorming ideas for another jake drabble and then got carried away w this. brace yourselves cuz im still recovering from writing this :’>
occupied with cleaning the kitchen, it was difficult to notice jake eyeing you from behind.
a yelp left your lips as the top of your head hit a firm surface. you finished standing up in shock, searching for what you had bumped into, and you smiled as you saw your boyfriend's hand protecting the corner of the countertop to prevent you from getting hurt.
a pout painted your face. “awww, jakey, that’s so sweet.” you leaned in and pressed a kiss onto his soft, plump lips that you could never grow tired of.
after pulling away, you turned around and continued cleaning the kitchen. and a pair of familiar footsteps followed. you turned around again.
you laughed, “why are you following me? what are you doing?”
jake shrugged, and you eyed him funny.
“i miss your lips.”
“my—” you continued laughing at how cute your boyfriend was, finding it hard to believe how lucky you were to have this man all to yourself.
you gestured for him to come closer, and his excited giggles and smile had your heart doing somersaults in your chest as he approached you, placing his hands on your waist, and pulling you close.
all in a split second, his grin faded and his expression grew more serious, and before you could process any of it, one of his hands flew to your jaw and pulled you in as he met your lips in the middle.
the kiss was hot, to say the least, as you could always count on jake sim to come through with. his lips were perfect. and even more so as they moulded with yours.
he poured so much passion into that kiss that it didn’t fail to take your breath away. but you kissed him back, of course, and when you felt him bite your lip, the gasp that left you had him smirking against your mouth.
teeth colliding, tongues mingling, bodies shaping into one, after a long while, he pulled away, trying to catch his breath. his lips were swollen and his eyes in a daze—your face probably matching his own, chest rising and falling at the same tempo.
he stayed close, removing his hand from the side of your face to brush a few strands of hair behind your ear, then returning to cup your jaw. he stared into your eyes again before slowly coming back to your lips.
you chuckled. “what? miss my lips again already?”
his eyes didn’t meet yours this time. all he gave you was a nod in response, a desire already returning to his gaze.
“kiss me, jake. i’m all yours.”
a/n. AHH writing this type of theme is v outside my comfort zone but idk my fingers just kept typing away and here we are 😀 are yall okay? im not okay 😀
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#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen reactions#enhypen drabbles#enhypen scenarios#enhypen suggestive#jake x reader#jake fluff#jake reactions#jake imagines#enhypen jake#jake enhypen#jaeyun x reader#jaeyun fluff#jaeyun imagines#jake sim x reader#jake sim fluff#jake sim
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─ ✰ STUPID CUPID!
─ SYNOPSIS: gojo's desperate to get something from you, his unoffical partner (you just don't know it yet!) on valentine's day. what a pathetic loser.
─ WARNINGS: swearing, gn! reader, pure fluff, not proofread, delulu gojo, valentine's special, high school au, 2.3k words
─ AUTHOR'S NOTE: guys IM SO SORRY FOR SPAM REPOSTING BUT LETS FUCKING GOOOOO TAGS WORK AGAIN!! i am a firm believer in loser loverboy gojo!! have some fluff to make up for the angst before c:
"c'mon, c'mon, c'mon!!! it has to be somewhere..." satoru hisses urgently, his desperation clearly palpable. his frustration mounts as he rummages through his locker, a chaotic cascade of seemingly endless cards spilling out.
pastel pinks and softly-laced letters, each one a potential hope dashed as he frantically sifts through them. with each piece he retrieves, his heart races a little faster, his anticipation building as he scans through the names written on each envelope. riku, hana, aoi, chiyo, akane, akari... yet no y/n?! where was yours? the absence of your name among the others sent a wave of panic coursing through him, his heart hammering in his chest as the pile dwindles. his stress starts to seep in as the pile of cards gets smaller and smaller, and the ones he did read get larger and larger. he bites his lip nervously, his fingers trembling as he searches desperately for even the faintest trace of your name.
surely, there had to be something, anything, to reassure him that you hadn't forgotten him on this special day. what if they really didn't?? had he not made his feelings clear enough? but... he was so sure he'd get one! even a sloppily written, coffee-stained, ripped piece of paper would do. he just wants to see your name, somewhere, anywhere, in this damn pile of pink.
his heart pounds in his chest as he reaches the bottom of the mound, his fingers trembling with a mixture of anticipation and dread. with bated breath, he picks up the last letter, his pulse quickening as he carefully peels back the edge.
emiko.
the name stares back at him mockingly, as if confirming you really hadn't given him one. with a heavy sigh, satoru lets the letter fall back into the pile, his shoulders slumping in defeat. even the plush teddy bear that someone had left in his locker seems to taunt him with its stitched smile, as if was purposefully picking a fight.
"wipe that smirk off your face," he mutters under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. the though of sending it flying across the hall sounded pretty good right about now.
shoko's voice breaks through the silence as she and suguru enter the locker room, their curious gazes falling upon satoru's disheveled state. "wow, you got so many!" shoko exclaims, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the pile of chocolates and cards. she quickly crouches, snatching a few of her favourite in sight. gojo lets out a dramatic sigh, sulking with a pout on his lips. he hates valentine's day. how could he not get something from the love of his life? they're dating, y/n just don't know it yet. suguru cocks an eyebrow at satoru's crestfallen expression.
"what's the matter? didn't get one from y/n?" he questions, confusion etched onto his features. satoru lets out a dramatic groan, collapsing onto the floor in a mixture of frustration and despair.
"nooo... what if they're giving chocolates to someone else?"
he whines, the mere thought of you bestowing your affections upon another causing a pang of jealousy to stab at his heart. he rolls around, letting out a quiet sigh. he imagines you shyly offering your affections to another upperclassman, causing his lips to tug downwards. it should have been his card you held, his name on your lips, your heart he captured leaving you starstruck. but instead, he was left with empty hands.
"sugu... am i dying?" he mumbles, drawing puzzled glances from passersby who can't help but observe his melodramatic display. "it hurrrrttts.... my heart..." he pouts, folding his arms in a manner reminiscent of a petulant child. shoko rolls her eyes in exasperation.
"get up!! you're embarrassing yourself," she chides, playfully nudging him with her foot. ignoring her, he lets out whimpers of sadness, fully immersed in his theatrics. but then, as if a switch has been flipped, he catches sight of you approaching down the hallway. panic washes over him at the thought of you seeing him in such a pitiful state. with a sudden burst of determination, he straightens up, leaning casually against his locker with an air of nonchalance. adjusting his glasses slightly and parting his lips in what he hopes is an alluring manner, he prepares to present his best self to you. suguru and shoko exchange a deadpan look, silently acknowledging the absurdity of the situation.
"hey," he greets you with a dazzling smile as you draw near, as if he wasn't just have a crisis about you seconds ago. you return the gesture warmly, and he can't help but swoon over you. you're so cute. his eyes are immediately drawn to the bag you're carrying, its baby pink hue and intricate design make his heart race with anticipation. is it a valentine's gift for a special someone? perhaps there's still hope that you'll choose him after all!!! he subtly tries to peek at it's contents, but to his dismay, it's sealed shut.
"you got so many confessions!" you remark in awe, taking in the massive pile of gifts surrounding his locker. it's only ten in the morning, and yet the offerings seem to overflow, spilling into neighboring lockers and filling the air with a sweet, floral scent. the space is thoroughly decorated, as if a unicorn had burst in and left its magical touch behind.
"did you get one from anyone special?" you inquire, and he quickly shakes his head, inwardly congratulating himself for his loyalty to you. (yes, he's that delusional.) "nope... not from who i wanted, yet," he sighs dramatically, gazing into the distance with a hint of longing. suguru and shoko, observing the exchange from a distance, can barely contain their amusement, stifling snorts as they eavesdrop on your conversation.
"hey, are you planning to confess to anybody?" he asks casually, though his heart is racing with anticipation. he subtly fluffs his hair and fixes his ocean-blue gaze on you, trying to gauge your reaction.
"hm? oh... i am, actually!" you admit, your cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink as you attempt to conceal your embarrassment with a feigned cough. he resists the urge to scoop you up in his arms and pepper your face with kisses. nevertheless, his heart swells with hope, silently praying that the gift you're carrying might be intended for him.
"oh? and who to?" he feigns nonchalance, though every fiber of his being is hanging onto your every word, desperate for a hint of your true intentions. you look away, huffing softly, leaving him hanging on the edge of anticipation.
"it's a secret," you tease, sticking your tongue out before mentioning being late for your next class. with a quick goodbye, you slip away before he can protest. left alone once more, he slides down his locker, staring into the distance with a heavy heart. you... just left! does that mean the gift wasn't for him after all? his worst fears seem to be confirmed, and he feels the sting of disappointment threatening to overwhelm him.
someone else will get to make you blush, tenderly kiss your soft lips, and hold you close. but who could have possibly stolen your heart? he's the school's biggest heartthrob, after all. why couldn't he win over the only heart he truly desired? he's more handsome, smarter, and cooler than your crush, he convinces himself with a huff.
suguru slings his arm around his white-haired friend, giving him a playful noogie in an attempt to lift his spirits. "cheer up, 'toru. there are plenty of fish in the sea," he says, but satoru's mood only darkens further. he doesn't want anybody else; he only wants you. shoko sighs, rolling her eyes at the typical male cluelessness.
men.
as the day progresses, satoru slowly loses hope with each passing hour. he doesn't even have the energy to entertain the people who approach him, confessing their feelings with bowed heads. he smiles, accepts their gifts, and walks away, tossing them into his bag mindlessly.
he won't fall for any of them; not a single one truly understands him like you do. they only care because he's 6'3, and conventially stunning. but you? you go along with his silly antics, make him laugh until his stomach hurts, and only you can make him feel like he's floating on cloud nine. that's why he treasured having you as a genuine platonic friend... until his friends burst his bubble, insisting he was in love. it's only then that he realizes, oh shit, they're right.
the minutes trickle by, his anticipation dissipates, each passing class period making him lose hope that you'll ever confess. you're absent from his sight in every shared subject, from english to biochemistry, calculus to philosophy. with each missed encounter, his heart sinks a little lower, the disappointment weighing heavily upon him. when the clock finally strikes three fifteen, signaling the end of the school day, he finds himself trudging to his locker with leaden steps, the faint glimmer of hope dimming with each passing moment.
fingers trembling slightly, he slowly gathers his belongings, each movement drawn out as if in desperate anticipation of a surprise that never materializes. as he stands before his locker, the absence of your presence echoing loudly in the empty hallway, he can't help but wonder if you've already confessed your feelings to someone else.
in that moment, all he can do is hope—hope that whoever holds your affection will cherish you as deeply as he does, that they'll never bring tears to your eyes, and that they'll safeguard the innocent spark that ignited his own heart in the first place.
he plods homeward, shoulders slumped, his steps heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. each footfall echoes a somber rhythm as he idly kicks a rock, the dull thud punctuating his melancholy thoughts. cupid is so dumb. his heart, burdened with a gravity far surpassing the load of his overstuffed bag, threatens to pull him into an abyss of despair. oblivious to the world around him, he fixates on the ground, unaware to the approaching footsteps until a familiar voice pierces through the fog of his depression.
"satoru!"
startled, he lifts his gaze to find you, breathless and flushed, struggling to catch your breath as you call out to him. your cheeks glow with exertion, your chest rising and falling with each labored breath as you double over, hands braced on your knees. it takes several moments for you to regain your composure, during which he can only watch, concern etched deeply into his features.
"i've... huff been trying to call you for... the past ten minutes! why didn't... you pick up?" you exclaim, frustration evident in your voice as you finally manage to catch your breath. he fumbles for his phone, realization dawning as he sees the numerous missed calls from your number, his heart sinking with a pang of guilt for inadvertently ignoring your attempts to reach him.
"oh... sorry," he mumbles, embarrassment lacing his tone as he rubs the back of his head. "what are you doing here? how did your confession go?" his attempt at nonchalance rings hollow, the weight of his own unspoken feelings casting a shadow over his words.
"actually… i haven't confessed yet," you admit softly, your gaze flickering away from his as you reach into your bag. you hesitate for a second, but take a deep breath as you try to calm your pounding heart. intrigued, he watches as you withdraw a delicate baby blue bouquet of lilies, with it, attached a card, adorned with intricate bows. the sight warms his heart more than he cares to admit, the lilies adorning the card outshining even the most extravagant displays of affection he's received.
"i know you probably have countless girls vying for your attention, but i wanted to take a chance," you confess nervously, your words tumbling out in a rush, unable to make eye contact. "i hope you don't mind that i chose blue instead of pink. it just felt… more like you." your vulnerability touches him in a way he hadn't expected, a swell of emotions rising within him at the sincerity of your words.
"i like you. a lot. i like your laugh, it's so pretty. i love seeing you smile, i always wanna be here for you. ...will you be my valentine, 'toru?" your voice wavers with uncertainty as you await his response, but when he remains silent, you meet his gaze, searching for any hint of what he might be feeling. to your surprise, his cheeks flush a deeper shade of crimson, his hand instinctively rising to cover his mouth as he struggles to find the words.
you almost feel like you've permanently short-circuited him when he gently cups your cheeks, a smile brimming with innocence gracing his lips.
"i thought you'd never ask," he murmurs, his lips forming a playful pout. he's tantalizingly close to kissing you, but then he deliberately pulls away, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your slightly annoyed expression.
"what?" he huffs, his thumb tracing along your bottom lip teasingly. "you teased me the entire day; don't you think it's my turn?" you're on the verge of offering retorting when you feel the gentle pressure of his lips against yours, drawing you into a tender, unexpected kiss. your cheeks flush with the rush of being caught off guard; he always had a knack for keeping you on your toes. he tastes like coconuts and cream and everything sweet, and you can't help but sink into his embrace.
your valentine. you can't think of anything sweeter.
...even if he does tease you for your sappy letter later.
© SUNTORU 2024. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.
#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#satoru x you#satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo fluff#jjk fluff
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one piece men react to you screaming their full name
ft. Ace, Zoro, Sanji
SFW, mentions of alcohol and smoking, gn reader
Masterlist
𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ .ᐟ ᡣ𐭩
Ace
“PORTGAS D. ACE” your voice resonates through all the walls, rooms and every nook and cranny from the Moby Dick. The mentioned stood frozen at the dinner table fork still full of food, he knew better than to run away
“What did you do now?” Marco asked eyes wide open
“Nothing!… that I remember” Ace scratched the back of his head trying to make memory of his recent activities, searching for whatever may had upset you
Marco laughed in disbelief “You’re a dead man” he said before taking another sip of his drink
You entered the room, stomping your way to your clueless boyfriend “May I have a word with you?” The tone and the politeness of the sentence made Marco fear for his dear friend. Ace nodded before he stood up and followed behind smile beaming in hopes you’ll have some mercy. A chorus of teasing ‘UUUUH’s were heard as you exited the dining room.
“Have I told you how radiant you look today?” Ace leaned over to kiss your cheek but you ducked making him loose his balance
“Don’t start with me Portgas” a shiver ran down Ace’s back, both from fear and… something else.
“You did this” you held a pillow cover in front of his face “You burned my only bed sheets, and you’re getting me new ones even if you end up in debt with everyone on this ship”
Ace was attracted to you all the time, but there was something in the way you would always stand your ground and how gorgeous you looked right now that was knocking him out of his feet. He placed his hand in the one were you held the pillow cover and pulled you in for a hug
“Im sorry sweetheart I’d get you new ones on the next island, you can borrow mine for now” you rolled your eyes and sighed, he got you wrapped all around his finger and he knew it, you couldn’t be mad at him for long
“Of course I’m taking yours, you sleep at my bed every night anyways… but wash them first” Ace picked you up and pampered your face with kisses “You look so hot when you’re angry
Zoro
“RORONOA ZORO” you screamed while exiting to the deck where he was working out, all of the straw hats looked back at Zoro in fear, Sanji holding in a laugh
Few things made this man flinch but he couldn’t help but catch himself lose balance when he heard his full name exit your lips in such an angry tone followed by your big stumps getting louder as you got closer
Everyone wrapped up whatever they were doing and ran off to the kitchen, leaving Zoro to face his demise alone
“What now?” He played it off trying to sound as nonchalant as he could not even looking your direction
“How many times have I asked you to not leave your sake around my desk?” If looks could kill your boyfriend would be a dead man
“Where am I supposed to put it then?” He scoffed crossing his arms in front of his chest, he looked at you for a second and his heart clenched at the cute way your brows furrowed and your arms rested on your hips
“Oh! I don’t know maybe, just getting silly here, IN THE PANTRY WHERE IT BELONGS!” Zoros condecency was driving you insane making your tone scale
The swordsman noticed how you were getting tense and teardrops threaten to run down your cheeks, he sighed a little embarrassed he had made you this upset. He cupped your cheeks while he apologized in that soft tone he reserved just for you
“I’m sorry I forgot to put it away last night, it won’t happen again I promise” he drew comforting circles around your cheek as he whispered
“It got all over my notebooks” oh so that’s why you were so shaken up
“I’ll clean it up baby” your boyfriend kissed your forehead as he made his way to the kitchen for a towel, as he opened the door every crew member fell comically on top of each other, they were ears dropping as they do.
Before Zoro could complain, your sweet laugh was heard at the distance which made him smile a little “You should listen to her mosshead” Sanji muttered which made the swordsman’s smile drop and scream back at him
Sanji
“BLACK LEG SANJI” even though you were screaming at him, the cook couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter at the way you wouldn’t use his birth last name as you knew he despised it and what it stand for, instead raging while using his public name.
You stormed in the kitchen eyes fixed on him, even angry Sanji thought you were breathtaking
“Yes my world?” he beamed a smile at you which you didn’t know if it annoyed or charmed you
“What have I said about smoking indoors?” Sanji felt the air get stuck in his throat, his eyes drifted from yours in shame
“I uhm-“ he laughed nervously as you got closer and closer cornering him against the counter, both hands caging him while they rested on said counter
“You know damn well I hate when my clothes smell like cigarettes, now imagine how I feel when my whole room stinks” you grabbed Sanjis tie to move his face closer to yours without breaking eye contact, you knew exactly what to do to make him a nervous wreck
The blondes heart couldn’t help but skip several beats at the way you were acting right now, he felt bad about upsetting you but he could get used to this side of you
“My apologies love, you know I cant manage to go without a smoke and sometimes I don’t want to leave your side” he twitched when his gaze met yours as he tried to explain himself
“Well you better start to manage” with a torturous slow move you took the cigarette that hanged from your boyfriends lips and threw it on the floor before stepping on it to take it out “Or I’ll move out of the room” you smiled teasingly while exploring his handsome features, stopping at his lips.
The cook turned all shades of red and pink breathing heavily, squirming a “Yes ma’m” before you kissed him passionately and breaking it abruptly
You winked at him before leaving the poor poor man absolutely stunted and a hot mess
𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ .ᐟ ᡣ𐭩
Hi! This is my first time doing this type of format so tell me what you think and feel free to request. English is not my first language so correct me if I made any mistakes.
#one piece#one piece imagine#one piece reaction#one piece x reader#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#one piece portgas d ace#portgas d ace x y/n#portgas d ace x you#portgas d ace imagine#portgas d ace x reader#sanji imagine#vinsmoke sanji x you#sanji x reader#one piece sanji#vinsmoke sanji x y/n#vinsmoke sanji x reader#one piece vinsmoke sanji#vinsmoke sanji#black leg sanji#roronoa zoro#zoro#one piece zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro roronoa x reader#zoro roronoa x y/n#zoro roronoa x you#zoro x reader#zoro x you#zoro x y/n
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Intertwined*
Paige Bueckers x Fem reader
Summary: Y/n and Paige have been broken up for a month now, and when a party comes around where they both find themselves at, feelings are revealed and its clear that they both can't seem to forget about each other.
WC: 3.2K
Warnings: 18+, smut, minor angst
(sidenote; im so obsessed with this picture UGH.)
➽───────────────❥
God— Y/n could feel her stare from across the room as she tried to keep up a conversation with her friend, Micheal. It was getting harder and harder to avoid Paige and her intense stares all night but y/n refused to give in because she knew that’s exactly what she wanted- for her to acknowledge her. Y/n wasn’t in the mood to speak to Paige, there was no need to really and she truly only came here to celebrate her friend's birthday then leave.
It has been a good month since the pair had last spoken to each other, and the image of Paige banging on her front door, begging for another chance was something permanently scarred in her mind. Y/n didn’t let her in, she refused to, and told Paige to go home and forget about everything they ever had.
Y/n cared for Paige a lot- she truly really did. A part of her still does whether she wants to or not. Paige just screwed up a lot and no amount of apologies she’d give would make a difference.
If it wasn’t for Micheals birthday tonight, she’d be at home in her bed instead. But, Michael had been her childhood friend for years and she wasn’t just gonna not come just because Paige was friends with him too.
“You look stunning tonight, Y/n.” Michael spoke, grabbing her hand and giving it a small peck, causing her to smile sheepishly and mumble a quiet, “Thank you.”
Y/n took a peek down at her glass, noticing it being basically empty as she chewed on her bottom lip, “I’m gonna go get a refill.”
She slowly moved away from Micheal, making her way to the kitchen, and she felt her expression drop as she did so. Y/n felt exhausted the entire night keeping up the image that she was happy and acting as though Paige being there didn’t bother her but she didn’t want her to know how badly things were affecting her.
Once she was in the kitchen the music from the living room died down a bit while she searched the fridge for a new bottle of champagne.
“Ma.”
Her eyes shot open once she heard the voice she hadn't heard in weeks, causing her to suck in a deep breath before she continued to pour her drink into her glass. Y/n was positive there was no way she’d be able to handle a conversation with Paige, especially not tonight. This was not the right time or place to try and work things out.
“Paige, no.” She told her softly as she took a sip from her glass.
She kept her eyes down at the kitchen floor, noticing Paige’s figure making her way closer to hers. “We’re not doing this tonight, please.”
“I just wanted to see you.”
“You have been seeing me this entire night, Paige.” She was directly in front of her now. She felt as if she was trapped under her frame and was too tired to push herself off.
Paige sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Properly see you. Like this. Not just from across the room.”
“It’s been hard though because of you trying to avoid me all night.”
“Paige, I don’t want to avoid you. I just don’t want to cause anything on Michael's day.” She sighed, placing a hand onto Paige’s chest to move her out of her way. “Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I can’t stay in the kitchen forever.”
“So that’s just it, huh? You can’t even look at me anymore?”
Y/n shut her eyes while sucking in a deep breath before turning back around as her eyes made her way up towards Paige’s body, scanning her body, seeing she was dressed in one of her red huskies jerseys with a pair of sweats. Once her eyes finally reached her face the urge to look away grew stronger as Paige’s stare felt more intense and intimate with each second that passed by.
“See? I’m looking right at you, now. Was this what you wanted? Are you pleased?”
Y/n was quick to notice Paige's expression fall at her words and she watched as she put her hair in a messy ponytail. “No, Y/n I’m not pleased or happy. I haven’t been pleased with anything since that day.”
“Paige, don’t start this.” She shook her head as she indulged in the rest of the champagne left in her glass. “You know I did what was best for the both of us whether you like it or not. Our relationship wasn’t healthy, it was bound to end eventually.”
Paige scoffed, while her eyes trailed over her. “Bound to end eventually, seriously? Look I know I fucked up a lot. Like a whole lot. I'm not proud of it, I know how badly I hurt you and it pains me everyday when I think about how we ended because I know things could’ve been different if I just stopped fucking up.”
“I tried playing it cool and shit acting like this hadn’t affected me.” She sighed before walking over and looking down at her, “Seeing you tonight, so beautiful, so gorgeous and talking to Michael and the rest of our friends as if you moved on so much, it’s been killing me horribly. Because I haven’t moved on, y/n. I haven’t at all.”
Y/n felt her heart pounding at Paige's words. She wasn’t even sure if what she was saying was the truth but a part of her hoped it was. Y/n hadn’t moved on either even though she’d try convincing herself she did, she knew she hadn’t.
She opened up her mouth to speak but was quickly interrupted by Michael coming into the kitchen. He stopped before looking at the pair and letting out an awkward laugh.
“Is everything alright?” He asked, and y/n gave him a small smile in response. “Everything’s okay, Mikes. Just came to get a refill and ran into Paige so we catched up a bit. I was actually just leaving to go find you.”
“It was nice talking to you, Paige.” Y/n whispered as she slipped her way past her, feeling Paige’s fingers lightly brush against her shoulder.
She hated how badly her body got goosebumps just from feeling her touch again.
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It had been two weeks since the party and Paige still lived in y/n’s mind. It was hard enough trying to forget about her but not only seeing her but speaking to her as well made y/n’s mind wander more than usual.
Y/n had been laying down on her couch the last few hours binging a few movies while eating some snacks. She was slowly beginning to fall asleep but a knock to her door woke her up.
Rubbing her eyes she made her way towards the door and took a peek through her doorbell.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Sighing she undid all the locks before opening it. Her breath was quickly stolen from her seeing Paige standing there with a cupcake and a mini bouquet of white roses in her hand, and she could sense the desperation radiating off her.
“I got these for you—I remember how much you loved the cakes from Sweet Mary’s.” Paige mumbled, before handing them over to her. “I’m sorry for just randomly showing up over here. I just had to speak to you.”
She took them from her and whispered a soft, “Thank you” before moving out of the doorway. “Please, come in.”
Y/n wasn't sure why she didn’t just tell Paige to go home again instead of letting her in. She’d never admit it, but a part of her missed her company. She just hoped that this didn’t end badly.
Paige stepped inside, taking off her slides and leaving them by the door as Y/n made her way towards her vessel in the kitchen to place the flowers in. “Are you thirsty? I can make some coffee or tea if you’d like. I also have a bit of wine if you’d prefer that instead.”
“No–no, I’m okay. Thank you, y/n.” Paige spoke, before following y/n to her living room where they sat on opposite sides of the couch. “Thank you, also for uh–letting me in this late.”
Y/n watched as Paige swallowed thickly and turned to her, “I’ve been missing you so badly, Y/n, you truly have no idea. I’m sure at the party it was obvious enough but I don’t want to play the victim, and make excuses for what I did because that’s stupid. I’m so, so, so sorry, y/n, for everything. For hurting you, for not changing, for letting my career get in the way of us, and making you feel unseen. After I gave myself these two weeks to properly think, it was clear that I need you back in my life. I’m a mess without you, ma. I truly don’t want to keep handling everything without you by my side anymore.”
Y/n sat quiet for a few seconds not sure how to properly express what she wanted to say. She could tell Paige was miserable and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing.
“Look.” she began, noticing how Paige dropped her head into her hands, before giving her the chance to finish and letting out shaky breaths. “I know from the outside looking in on things you’ve assumed I’ve been handling things fine. I can tell based on what you said to me at Michaels birthday. But I actually haven’t been dealing with this that well either. I’ve missed you as well, you’re all my mind has been thinking about the past month. And no matter how hard I try to deny my feelings– I really miss you.”
Paige slowly lifted her head back up as a large grin took over her face, “Can I scoot closer to you, please?” she asked, and y/n was quick to nod in response.
“God– you have no idea how badly I’ve missed sharing the same space as you. Just getting the chance to be this close to you is so fucking rewarding.” she spoke as she ran her fingers through y/n’s hair while she laid on her lap. Paige’s hand came up to her cheek, it was clear at first she was hesitant but she eventually stroked y/n’s cheek gently and let out a relieving sigh. “I’ve missed touching you.”
Y/n turned her head and kissed the palm of Paige’s hand. “I’ve missed touching you too.” she spoke, before lifting her head up and running her nose against Paige’s jaw. “Please don’t hurt me again.”
Paige wrapped her arms around her waist tightly and whispered softly into her ear, “I promise, I’ll never hurt you again my sweet girl.” Before Paige got the chance to say any more, y/n was quick to lean in and press her lips against hers, molding them together as she held onto Paige’s shirt tightly.
Paige took the opportunity to roam her hand down y/n’s body again just like she did before. Finally getting the chance to feel her bare skin against hers was something she’d been craving for what felt like years. Her hand slid under y/n’s shirt and cupped her bare breast with her hand, earning a light moan from her against her lips. Her other hand slipped into her shorts, but was quickly taken aback when her hand was met with y/n’s bare ass cheek–instead of the cloth of her panties.
She pulled back from the kiss and looked at y/n with furrowed brows. “You aren’t wearing underwear?”
Y/n’s cheeks flushed pink as she shook her head in response and licked on her bottom lip. “I uh–take them off before I go to sleep now. It’s something I’ve been doing recently.”
She watched as Paige’s pupils dilated, and soon both of her hands were now cupping her ass as she lifted them up from the couch and walked towards her room.
“I forget how strong you are sometimes.” y/n muttered, causing Paige to chuckle before dropping her gently onto her twin-sized bed. “That seems like something pretty hard to forget, ma.”
Paige hovered on top of y/n’s spread out figure and ran her fingers against her bare thigh. “Take off your shirt for me, ma. Wanna see those pretty tits again, been too long.” she asked and y/n was quick to comply, taking off her blouse earning a light grunt from Paige’s lips.
She held them both in her hands as she lightly massaged them, “Fuck, I’ve missed touching these pretty lil’ things so bad, baby.” she whispered before bringing her mouth down and sucking on one of them, and pinching the other one using her thumb and index finger as y/n let out a loud moan.
“Feels good, hm?” Paige mumbled, removing her mouth from her breast and attaching them to her neck, nibbling onto the skin, making sure to leave a visible mark right underneath her jaw.
She slid down y/n’s shorts eagerly and moaned at the sight of her bare pussy on display for her. “Ima take care of you tonight, ma. Just like I used to, gonna help you feel real good.” she spoke, taking two of her fingers and shoving them into y/n’s mouth and muttering a low, “Suck.”
Y/n was quick to suck on her fingers like her life depended on it. She remembered how much Paige loved when she’d take them down her throat–so she was quick to do so.
“Fuck, yes. Just like that.” Paige praised, shoving a third finger into her mouth. “Suck my fingers real good, ma. Imagine it was my strap in your mouth again.” Y/n moaned at the thought of having the strap back in her mouth–missing the way Paige would fuck her face with it or the times she’d aggressively fuck her when she’d misbehave, leaving her pussy sore yet throbbing and begging for more.
“Such a good girl. Sucking my fingers so well.” she said, slowly taking her fingers out of y/n’s mouth as a string of saliva followed, then bringing them down to her dripping pussy. “Always get so wet for me, didn’t even need the spit, could easily slide my fingers right in, just like this.” she spoke as she slid two of her digits nice and slow inside, watching them disappear inside her entrance, before taking them out, licking her wetness clean from her fingers and letting out a moan at the taste.
“God–sweetest pussy I’ve ever had. Could have this taste in my mouth everyday and be satisfied.”
“Paige.”
“Yes, ma?”
“Please lick me.”
Paige leaned down and gave her a peck on the lips. “Anything you want.” she whispered, grabbing y/n’s thighs and putting them on top of her shoulders. Paige was a sucker for teasing, and on any other occasion she’d make y/n work and beg for it. That was the usual for them. It was rare for Paige to give in this easily and early but fuck–she hadn’t gotten a chance to properly taste her in a month.
She was quick to attach her mouth to y/n’s needy clit and start licking. She gained so much pleasure just by eating her out, it was like a gift on Christmas day for her. “Been so long since I had this sweet lil’pussy in my mouth.” Paige lifts her mouth up a bit and licks, causing y/n’s mouth to fall open in disbelief at the soft, sucking sound and gently smacking-noise as her lips sucked onto her clit. “God–it’s so fucking good.” she groaned under her breath, and y/n swears she’s on cloud nine. The feeling of Paige’s hot breath combined with her wet tongue was sensational.
“Come on, ma.” she squeezed her thighs with her long fingers before pleading, “Back and forth yeah? Rock a bit for me, want you to be riding my face a bit.” Y/n was quick to do so, feeling the warm tip of Paige’s tongue press against her. “Fuck, feels so good, I’ve missed your tongue on me so badly.” she moaned, before Paige gave her a warm, long lick, causing her to cry out softly.
“Yes–yes, that’s right baby.” Paige muffled, giving her clit a short, sloppy sounding lick, making y/n buckforward again. “Shit, good fucking girl. Ride my tongue, just like that.” she spoke, having her tongue still buried between her folds, as y/n let out louder moans from the pleasure. Paige began kneading her thighs firmly as she licked deeper and deeper with each sound of y/n’s breathless moans escaping her swollen lips.
Y/n felt her abdomen clench and release, causing her to let out a fluttery sigh. “I’m close, so-so close.” she whispered urgently, as Paige hauls her more tightly against her mouth and presses her tongue more firmly against her needy clit. Y/n inhales sharply and her mouth falls open when her center starts to splinter into pieces, “I’m cummin–fuck.” And before she knew it, she was making a mess on Paige’s face. She pants, caught in place, as Paige rubs her thighs and lifts her face up, revealing her mouth and chin, glistening in her pussy juices.
Paige then leans down and kisses her, and y/n immediately tasted herself on her tongue. The two just stayed like this for a while before y/n pulled back from the kiss. “Now–my turn.” Y/n climbs her way off the bed and stands in front of Paige’s frame. “Let me make you feel good now.” she spoke, lightly shoving Paige back against the bed into the same position she was just in. Paige took off her sweats, leaving her in just her underwear and y/n was moaning already at the sight in front of her.
“I’ve missed having you in my mouth.” she says, licking a stripe against her clothed clit, earning a moan from Paige’s lips. “Ima make you feel good too, promise.” Y/n quickly pulls her underwear to the side, revealing her wet and glistening folds, ready for her to dig in.
Y/n’s quick to start licking as if she hadn’t eaten a proper meal in years. Paige kept a firm grip on her hair, yanking and pulling on it lightly with each feel of her tongue against her. Y/n loved looking up and watching the sight of Paige falling apart above her. Paige’s body grew more desperate with each deep, sloppy lick to her clit as y/n spit down onto her, earning another moan from her lips. Y/n could tell she was close by her pants and breaths, and she was determined to taste her cum on her tongue. After a few more licks and sucks to her clit, her legs shook and she was cumming.
“Mmmmm” y/n dragged out, as she licked her lips clean and offered Paige a cute smile. “So tasty.” she mumbled as Paige grabbed her hips and dragged her body on top of hers and kissed her lazily.
“I’ve missed this so badly, y/n.”
“I’ve missed this too.” she muttered, gently kissing her jaw before pecking her nose. “At least now you don’t have to miss it anymore.”
“And why’s that hm?” she asked.
“Because I’m yours again.”
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers x reader#uconn wbb#uconn huskies#wbb#smut#wlw smut#wlw post#wlw#wlw ns/fw#ns/fw
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I loooveee the way u write nanami 🥺🥺 was wondering if u could do a mini fic on nanami x reader but when they were in high school :O I feel reader would constantly flirt with him but he stays unbothered until she stops 😵💫😵💫😵💫 thank uuuu
౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS — nanami kento
omg thank u so so much, you're very sweet <3 i think i was taking requests when you asked this, so im so so so sorry i took forever to answer :( this isn't exactly what you said but i hope it's close to what you had in mind <3
contents: sfw, high school nanami & reader, mutual pining, silly teenage emotions, fluff, it's not even really romantic but they're best friends that won't admit they have a crush on each other, reader is shorter than him, gn!reader — 1.2k
“you can’t stay mad at me forever, kento.”
your best friend — or so you thought — stayed silent as you walked through the abandoned warehouse, searching for the curses that needed exorcising. so far, they’d evaded you, just as kento had all of your questions.
he glanced over at you, mouth drawn into its usual line. “i can if i want.”
“oh really?” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you continued forward, following him through the building. “are you fifteen or five? you’re supposed to be the mature one!”
kento rolled his eyes, but didn’t dignify that with a verbal response, letting his blade dangle loosely at his side. an odd sound echoed through the hallways, but it wasn’t quite menacing enough to be a curse.
you groaned. “don’t you know everyone will just keep pairing us up on missions until we work this out?” if kento was going to continue to be a pain, you wouldn’t allow him the silence he wanted so desperately. he’d been ignoring you for over a week. “haibara’s lucky. he gets to go with the second years.”
nanami glanced over his shoulder, raising his eyebrow, before looking ahead once more. “you mean he’s lucky he gets to go with gojo.”
though you weren’t sure if it was supposed to be an insult to you or not, you laughed. “maybe.”
“yeah,” kento scoffed. “i thought so.”
the tone was flatter than usual, even for someone like kento, and you raised your eyebrows, letting the words settle between you.
“you’re being so sour. you know, you never even told me what i did wrong. you’re so mad at me, kento, and i don’t even really know why.”
kento watched his feet take one step, then another, the opposite ones moving ahead. he’d grown a lot over the summer — a fact you’d somehow only realized. since when had he been that much taller than you?
“i’m not mad,” he finally settled on. a weak argument as to why he’d been ignoring you for the duration of your mission, and the week before.
you frowned, chewing the inside of your mouth. although kento had a kind heart, you knew how nasty he could be to people he didn’t like. you didn’t want to be one of those on the list. “kento… i really am sorry. if i’ve done something wrong.”
the tension drained from his shoulders. he sighed. “you haven’t.”
despite wanting to push the issue further, you let it die, deciding to listen to the silence in case of any curses. though, it had been nearly half an hour, and you hadn’t found any yet. you were beginning to think that maybe your teacher had led you astray.
“can i ask you something?” kento, after ten minutes, finally interrupted the quiet again. and though that sort of phrase was never a good sign, you would’ve taken anything to get him talking to you again.
“of course, kento.”
he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, seeming shy, almost. had it not been so dark, you would have seen the slight tint of pink on his cheeks, that you only assumed was there to begin with.
“what is it about gojo that you like so much?”
you blinked. “what do you mean?”
“you’re… interested in him, aren’t you? like that?” kento shifted awkwardly, holding his body as if it wasn’t quite his own. “i mean, i just assumed…”
all over, you great hot, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, a wave of dread heaping onto your stomach. “you think i have a crush on gojo?”
“don’t you?”
you thought about it for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “i don’t know. maybe.”
“maybe?” kento pinched his eyebrows together. “what the hell kind of answer is that? you either do or you don’t.”
“i think he’s...” you stumbled over the words, not really sure when you’d started talking to nanami kento about these sorts of things. the words tasted sour in your mouth. “well, i suppose he’s attractive, isn’t he? he’s certainly charming. he makes me laugh.”
“you’re always flirting with him," kento said skeptically.
you shrugged. "i'm just teasing. if you consider that flirting, then i guess i am."
“hm. you sound like you think you’re supposed to be interested in him, just because he’s gojo.”
that raised a small laugh out of you. “maybe you’re right. i think i might just be interested in people i know won’t ever like me back.” kento’s eyes flashed, and before he could say anything, lips parted, you continued. “but what do i know about anything, anyway? teenagers are supposed to be dumb like that, aren’t they?”
kento frowned, brown eyes softer than you’d seen in awhile. “i don’t think you’re dumb.”
“thanks.” for some reason, that made you bashful, darting your eyes away as you smiled at the ground. “have you ever had a crush on anyone, kento?”
he gave you a tiny little smile, poking you in the temple, before repeating your words from earlier. “i don’t know. maybe.”
“you’re so stupid.”
kento laughed, then, a light noise that was more familiar to you than it was to a lot of others. “you know, if it makes you feel better, i think gojo likes you. really, i do. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes when you laugh at his jokes. geto told us. he talks about you to him all the time.”
and though you’d expected the words to send a wave of glee over you, the sort of silly emotion that came with a teenage crush, you didn’t feel excited as you should've. perhaps because satoru had never been the one you wanted.
“gojo just likes to be admired. besides, everyone likes when people laugh at their jokes. that's not special.” you kicked at the floor. “anyway, geto’s probably just telling you all that so you’ll tell me and i’ll make a fool of myself in front of them. that would really make them laugh.”
kento frowned, contemplative. “i don’t think he would do that.”
he wouldn’t. it just seemed the only good way to diverge the conversation.
you threw your hands up, expelling a loud sigh. “well… whatever. honestly, it doesn't matter. i don’t think i even want a boyfriend.”
kento gawked at you for a moment, lips slightly parted, before he shook his head, another snort of a laugh leaving him. “you’re so confusing.”
“you should be relieved. wouldn’t you be miserable if i started dating gojo?” you were only teasing him, bumping his shoulder with your own, a playful grin on your face.
but kento’s voice was gentle when he returned his answer, and the relief was evident on his face. “i would.”
whether you knew it then, or not, that little confession had changed the course of your life. you brushed it off easily, gripping your cursed tool tightly as you turned the corner again.
“hey kento?”
“what? the curses are going to sneak up on us if—”
“you’re my best friend, by the way. even if i was dating gojo, you’d still be my best friend. you’ll always be my best friend.” you stopped him, serious now. “no matter what happens.”
kento smiled softly, barely there at all. he squeezed your hand in return. “i hope so.”
#kento nanami x reader#jjk x reader#nanami fluff#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#kento nanami x you#nanami x reader#jjk x fem!reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆
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𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍, 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄
— BUCKY BARNES COLUMN (ONESHOT)
Dark Pirate! Bucky Barnes x Siren! Female Reader
—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—
| A/N | DISCRETION |
A/N — Yes. Yes... YAAAAS! IM DOING IT! I'm frickin' writing a pirate Bucky! Mmmm! Fuckin' love pirate stuff, I'm just living for Bucky being a hotto potatoh commanding a vessel on the high seas.
Pirate Bucky — semi dark Bucky — submissive/soft captive reader — possessive Bucky — SMUT 18+, Minors DNI! — P in V sex — memory loss/wiping via magic (reader affected) — light use of physical and sexual acts to avoid conflict — indirect breeding kink? — pet names — brief consumption of alcohol — I think that's it?
| SUMMARY |
He is your captain. There is no place you'd rather be than by his side, nothing you could ever want for that is not him. You owe everything, your entire self, to him. Yet overboard and on the tide you sail across, in search for a great and ancient treasure, a song continues to seep through the cracks of your heart and soul… a song so familiar yet unknown.
Forgotten. Bucky reminds you yet again that there is no place else for you that isn't beside him, that there is nothing out there.
*4.1𝐤
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| M-LIST | TAGLIST:
@identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic
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There lays a song forgotten in your heart and soul, distantly faint as the receding tide to the shore. With each spare moment of peace you were given to dwell beneath the lapping waters, you spend a portion of it in search of that song. And what time remains within the falling sand’s glass, you bask in the blue and faded black abyss.
Tonight is no different. You could not remember the forgotten song that lulls you tenderly, pulling through skin and scale, calling you somewhere far, much too far, away from the balancing hull above.
You could not abandon your captain. Betray the trust between you both. After all, it was he who found you washed atop the rocky crevices of the island, who rescued you from a fate of drying out in the sun’s merciless heat. Who took care of you when there was nothing left of the life you once knew.
To break that earnt trust, to betray him, you can’t think of anything far more heartbreaking than that.
“Time’s up, my Siren,” the voice of your captain beckons you. He calls you to the surface.
A sigh ripples through the water and your head tilts up towards the surface, the darkened slits in your milky white eyes shrink away from the moonlight penetrating through the waves. The long limb of your tail sweeps back and forth, thrusting you upwards, skin and scales shimmering brighter as you near the barrier between water and air. The breach pulls a lungful gasp of the night's chillingly crisp air, the only warmth coming from The Avenger.
Hair drench-pressed and thinned forms a curtain over your features as you peer up at the looming figure pridefully arching over the ship’s wooden rail. The slivered slits of your eyes grow wider as they focus on him, with a lantern beside him, glass scorched and worn by smoke, it illuminates the upper portion of his body. His white shirt ruggedly wrinkled and loosened to showcase a muscled chest, skin tanned by the sun’s heated kiss, sleeves rolled to the elbow, black ink painted legendary stories over his body in memorabilia. Stories forged into his flesh for all to study and cower in fear.
He summons you with a kink of his finger and you obey his silent command with an all too eager nod. Around you, the water spirals into a column and rises up, pushing you higher to reach the wooden railing. Aboard the ship, the crew is merry in their celebrations. Another successful day of conquest and battle on the high seas, another amassed sum of gold and valuables to add to hull and reputation.
Of course spirits would be high and cheerful tonight. And of course, what was a conquest without the captain’s prize at the end of it all?
Gathering yourself over the rail and onto the deck, the glistening shine of your tail morphs into two shapely legs, the milky hues of your eyes and other remnants of your true body hide in their human disguise. Your eyes find the hourglass on his opposite side, the sand all gathered in the bottom glass pit. Your captain holds something out for you and you graciously accept his gift, pulling the thin veil of your robe over your naked body.
His ocean blue eyes scan you up and down, the left corner of his plush, chapped lips turns upwards.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” He purrs his question and it brings a cold chill to run up and down your spine, your lungs freeze with what little breath they had at that moment.
He turns his body properly to face you, burly shoulders and thick muscles straining the fabric of his shirt. His eyes fold slightly into a sharpened stare of interrogation.
“I–I don’t…” You shake your head, breath hitching. “I don’t understand, Captain. I search for nothing that is not you.”
“Aye?”
Your gaze drops to the limb of his remaining flesh hand, the other limb itself brings an uncomfortable yet hazy familiarity, you dare not to look at it up close when in the awoken presence of his intimidating stature. Often you would question its being there and admire its raw and unique - mystical - materials, when your captain lay beside you fast asleep.
Wrapped tightly over and under the callousness of his palm, the golden chain twinkles in the pale moonlight, the larger pearl at its centre holstered by binding gold and tinier pearls, beneath the gilded net a more refined shape of a pearl dances on its link.
However, your mesmerised pupils flicker up in an instant, brought to the attention of your captain awaiting your obedient answer. A noise is pitched in your throat with the answer but it dies swiftly before its deliverance.
Your vision focuses behind him then, up near the ship’s helm, her fingers lace slowly in their hypnotic movement as the fabric of her scarlet magic is weaved together. A warning. You do your best to hide the distressed visage of fear, batting your eyelashes and brushing aside the death of your verbal response, you bow your body forward submissively to his that towers over you.
When your lips touch his, he almost instantly devours yours in a hungry kiss, the soft caress of your fingers tracing the curves of his chest brings pride and lust to possessively reel you into him, your nude front colliding against the hardened wall of his own.
Your hands run their course of exploration up the swollen bulk of his arms until they find purchase and entangle themselves in his dark locks. His own hands ravage your body, kneading the flesh and slim muscle of your hips.
He groans when you submit to his overpowering will, mouth parting to his eager tongue that shoots forward like a fired cannon, aimed to dominate you in every sense of the word. Your soft whimpers beneath him bring him unimaginable pleasure, the sort that drives him to seek it evermore, with no seeming end to his insatiable hunger for what is you; your entire being. Wolves are known to be ravenous beasts. It’s why he’s known by the moniker as the White Wolf.
His tongue fiercely dances over yours, swirling and his bottom teeth tease you by nipping your lip, earning a high pitched squeal from you. He chuckles, the sound rich and dark in its intention. Your core comes alight, burning hotly and the once cool air dissipates as heat courses through every vein and nerve in your body, your mind swimming in the ocean pools of his eyes. Eyes that at times are the only thing you need to be connected to the sea.
The prominent tent of his erected endowment presses against your stomach and lower abdomen. You finally pull away, however, in his caging embrace it’s not very far you’re able to move back.
“Wait for me in my cabin, little Siren,” he orders gruffly. Your mouth falls agape and you sputter in your rattled confusion.
“But I—” Still he penetrates you with that cold stare. It prods at you with radiant intensity, it matches the ominous scarlet glow that now burns brighter now as it moves down the upper deck’s stairs. Your eyes dart between the woman who controls the rolling waves of red magic and the ferocity of your captain’s hardpressed gaze.
Your head bounces quickly. “Yes...”
A few words of compliance are cut off by a gasp. As you attempt to follow his order and return to his cabin, he halts you within his metallic grasp and pulls you back in, curled lips mere inches from your own, in the clutches of his brazen hold, he commands your attention. Your hands are forced to rest over his chest.
He drawls with a warning growl, “Yes?”
“Yes, Captain Barnes.”
Bucky nods his head once and lets you go, his eyes flicker between the cabin door and you, silently instructing you to hurry along. Your bare feet barely make a sound over the wooden deck in your traversal towards the cabin, where you would await your captain to claim his prize. Treasure that he greedily gets to have all to himself. The conquest he takes glee in ravishing himself full of.
Once you’re tucked inside, exactly where he wants you, Bucky scratches at his stubbled jaw, his recent shave already beginning to grow in again. Wanda approaches his side, the fabric of her magic ceasing at her fingertips like embers passing over into lowly ashes.
“That was a close one,” Bucky growls, his tongue that savours your taste runs over his teeth. She hisses with a hushed tone, “With each outing she is given to delve into the sea, my magic weakens, Captain.”
His eyes roll to glare at the woman beside him. She sighs with a bow of her head, eyes downcast as to not provoke him into thinking her words a challenge.
“All I mean to say is that you must reinforce her rules. She’s beginning to suspect far too much, and with each piece of recollection, my power is sapped by her own. Enforce her rules once more.”
Bucky’s shoulders shrug upwards with an all too arrogant huff, haughty in his conviction. He idly tilts his flesh hand, admiring the piece of you he has wrapped up in his iron grasp.
“She will do well to keep in mind her place. She’s intimidated.”
“She’s conflicted, Captain.” Her words bring about a scowl to Bucky’s face, lips coiled into a snarl and nose wrinkling, eyes thinning. “And it will be a matter of time before she is free of you, and you will be known as the captain who lost his siren.”
The bridge of this knowledge leaves Bucky in a state of strife. An aspect to his notorious reputation was garnered by your captivity. The White Wolf known by all as the fearsome pirate captain who tamed a siren; held you in the oyster of his clutches. If he did lose you, then his reputation would be suffering a heavy loss. As if to sense his change of demeanour, her hands raise up with her glowing, magic tipped fingers. His nostrils flare and the harsh prestige that made him a force not to be trifled with, he commands, “Do it.”
Bucky struts off with a roll of thunder beneath his leather worn boots, swiping up a half drunk bottle of rum and swallows an animalistic gulp, joining in on the festivities of his crew. Wanda observes her captain for a moment before diverting her attention towards the cabin. Her hands fold over one another, and with her palms outstretched, the scarlet hue dances through the air in a thin, cloudy blanket, searching and finding the miniscule gap beneath the wooden door.
He pummels into you until your back pushes far into the mattress, eliciting sharp whines and sultry moans from your parted lips, breath caught in a pattern of shallow pants. He chases after his second high as he drives his cock deep into you, the sound of skin slapping skin perverts the cabin’s air and already you begin to feel your core tremble in its own pursuit for its fourth orgasm. With each powerful snap of his hips, his throat chokes out a grunt in his exertions, the girth of his cock sinks deep into the channel of your hot, velvety cunt.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he growls lowly with a hiss, “so fuckin’ tight! You feel so good, you’re— taking me so well.”
With an exceptionally powerful rut of his hips and he has you on the precipice of screaming, thighs quivering in their hold around his waist, heels digging into the dip of his large, muscular back. Any coherent thoughts and words die on the vine of your vocal cords, only able to procure sounds of pleasure, to chant his name over and over again.
“Captain Barnes!” you mewl with fervour. Bucky’s chest vibrates with a husky chuckle. “That’s right, scream my name, let the crew hear you, Love. Let them hear how drunk you are for my cock.”
His one palm is laced with sweat, thick and roughened fingers squeeze yours in a passionate display of his dark possessiveness over you. Your captain could be very jealous when another’s eyes lingered on you for even a second too long, many others had suffered the brunt of his fury - weapons ablaze - and you in the end suffered the brunt of his envy with his cock pounding into you for the next several hours.
To remind you to whom it was you belong to.
His lips suckle one of the erected peaks of your breasts, moaning as his tongue leaves a wet trail around it before passing over to the second to repeat the treatment. Your head turns to the side sharply when the head of his cock splits you open even further than you could previously imagine, hitting a hidden crevice that leaves you without breath.
He gauges your reaction, the colour of your eyes blurring, phasing between the natural milky white canvases and the hue of your disguise, your canines and incisors now elongated, all because of the pleasure that pools at the junction where your bodies meet. But for a moment, you catch the glimmer of gold still wrapped around his hand, glimmering metal gnawing and rubbing across his skin, you’re torn between your euphoria and clouded curiosity.
“Say it again,” he grunts with a hard thrust that makes his muscles ripple insanely beneath his skin.
“C’mon, say it for your captain, Love.”
Your lips and tongue drag across the flesh of his wrist, the pulse of his racing heart beats through, you can almost taste the rhythm. His sweat tastes strong with his musk, a strong flavour of the salty sea, sandy beaches and gunpowder.
You moan softly, almost in a whisper, “Captain… C-Captain Barnes.”
The effect you have on him is indescribable to him. Never has he been able to put it into words, all he can do is feel it; carnally. The repetitive pounding into that deeper and sweeter spot has your back arching up, the smooth layer of your sweat covered body rubs against his, able to feel each defining muscle, he uses his metal hand to grip hold of one of your thighs, angling you so that you’re spread further apart for him. Your eyes begin to fall heavy and roll back into your skull in your drunken haze, the shimmer of scarlet presently blooms from time to time in them.
“That’s right. You belong to me, little Siren. It’s my cock that has you dripping wet.” His thrusts become faster, losing the precise edge he had before, his climax inevitably as close as your own. Your nails embed crescent moons into the skin of his one hand while the other bites into his shoulder.
“I’m the only man— fuck! The only man who gets to have you like this. Shit… shit. ’M going to fill you up.”
“Please, please… Cap—”
“Aye, I’m going to fill you up, have you nice ‘nd full until my cum is leaking out of your little cunt, Siren. Fuck… you want that, don’t you? I know you do.”
You gasp with each attempt to breathe, each push and pull of his cock strikes you like a match to light the powder keg, the explosion of your climaxes comes as a white hot flash in your vision, momentarily blinding you. Your hot walls squeeze around his large endowment, forcing him to thrust back and forth even harder, grunting hot breaths against the shell of your ear.
His seed is flushed into the channel of your pussy in thick, seething spurts that paint your walls that milk him for every precious drop.
What he gives makes your lower abdomen weigh a little heavier, a little bit fuller than you were before. His hips grow slower with each dissipating explosion from his tip. His large chest expands hugely with every intake of air to his lungs before deflating as a pleased groan.
In his reverie of contentment, having had his fill of his prize - for now - he withdraws his softening cock from your pussy, a moistened pop echoes in the emptiness of your thoughts. Bucky rolls off of you to lay at your side, atop the furs and silken drapes of the bed. Before you can make a move he uses his metal arm to drag you in closer, tucking you into his side, the coldness of his fingers skimming the delicate texture of your arm.
The soothing rock of the ship is enough to lull you to sleep, the lids of your eyes inching closer and closer together.
“Still deny that you found nothing?”
His question only brings your brows to knit together. You shake your head and huddle closer into his side, basking in the comforting warmth of his body. Why on earth would he ask you such a silly question? As if there was anything of importance that outranked him, by being at his side.
The answer you give is instant in its resolve, “I don’t understand, Captain. I needn’t find anything out there… I have you.”
Your answer, though unable to see it from your position, pleases him and his lips curl into a toothy smirk, long sweeps of his dark brown hair tousled about in his post sex state. You lay your head against his chest to hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat, eyes closing to seek rest and refuge in the arms of your beloved captain. The man that grants you safety, that promises you nights of passion followed by the comfort of his body next to yours. All he asks in return is your loyalty. Your devotion.
For you to be his siren.
Behind the blurry curtain of sleep layered over your eyes, you awaken and by your estimation, only for around an hour or maybe a little more. The morn still hasn’t risen over the ocean’s horizon, the moonlight shimmering and shining over the waves. The candlelight that bathed the cabin with a sensual atmosphere had now burnt out.
Breaths of deepened sleep sound next to you, the chiselled sculpt of his chest you’d used as a pillow takes steady form, as he sleeps. It makes you wonder as to what he dreams about, sometimes a scowl is etched into his attractive visage and he becomes restless, leaving you to somehow comfort him. And other times, mostly after he’s spent drawing orgasm after orgasm from the two of you, he finds respite.
You take the time to thoroughly yet delicately rub your eyes, robbing the tiredness of its hold to take you once more. With a tilt of your head, hair coming over your shoulder to graze the top of your breasts, his other hand lay out over the bed, residing just over the edge.
The mysterious object that somehow you know is linked with you, but as to how or why, or its significance to you in any case, is still laced around his calloused palm. Despite its odd gleam of familiarity, you believe this is the first time you’ve seen it before, however, the tiny voice in the back of your mind says otherwise. Then you must have seen something like it before somewhere.
Something deep in the recess of your heart, you have to know. Is this somehow linked to the estranged longing to a home you can’t remember? Does this necklace bind you to the lost melody of times erased from your memory?
You take caution in moving carefully, inching your way to lean over the sleeping form of your captain, skin brushing skin, you slowly rotate your hips and hoist a thigh over his waist. Heated crimson flushes into your cheeks as you analyse your newfound position, but also from the way his body stirs lightly, still enraptured by sleep yet his body adjusting to your core lining over his naval.
Thawed from your frozen idle of panic, you take a moment to calm the racing of your heart that hammers vigorously against your chest, your nimble fingers reach out towards his flesh hand that clings protectively to the mysterious necklace.
This almost feels… too easy. You swallow a silent gulp, fingers grazing against his palm when his body shifts, bumping up into yours, you pull your reach back so fast, your hand slaps against his ribs, doing your best to cover up your true intentions. His stills beneath you once more and your shoulders fall lax with a sigh of relief.
Again you dare another attempt to grab the necklace, this time you don’t risk breathing, holding it for what seems like forever until your lungs begin to swell with an ache that makes them feel like bubbles about to burst.
You work the chain until it's loosened and finally allow your held breath to escape you, the strain to remain silent proving far more difficult than you would have liked. The weight of your body shifts backwards, now sitting up, you allow your eyes to take in every detail of the object in your hands. The gold chain is light, ghostly as it graces your hands, your fingers lace and loop it around amidst the process of your conjuring thoughts.
Like a puppeteer pulling the strings you raise the necklace up by its precious thread. The pearl encaged by its makeshift net swings from side to side, as though even when you are completely still, it has a soul of its own accord.
Everything you knew about pearls is forfeit, the identity of this one brings the bevel between your brows to form in thoughtful wonder. Therein lies the piece of some puzzle, the missing notes to the melody to which you only recall the faint rhythm of the song.
It has to mean something of greater importance. But if it did, then why is your captain so adamant to dismiss your curious nature to find the answers?
As if the pearl itself is the key, you hear within your heart and soul the song. Voices sing a tone that is calming to your senses, a sweet and endearing lullaby meant for you to hear whenever you find yourself in the loneliest of places, in the darkest reaches of the ocean, the connection will bring you somewhere you call home.
But your home is The Avenger. Aboard the ship with Captain Barnes. The man known as Bucky to his closest inner circle. So why do the voices mingling with the tide call you away from all that? With each passing second you become ensnared by the spell of the pearl, the voices of whom you somehow find solace in become louder, the softened chorus of their song echoes a hundred times over in your head.
Before you even give pause to reason, your own voice becomes paired with the orchestra of sirens. You have no words, and maybe you never did, all you did need is the pearl to help guide you in remembering the melody. The uncertainty of your humming eases, the unforeseen instructors aiding you, your voice is soft within its deep reverie when it all comes to an abrupt pause, a gasp severing the tune.
He has you by the wrist, fingers bruisingly tight and giving you no choice to pull away from him, as he often did whenever he saw you retreat from him without his say so.
Bucky’s eyes bear into yours, penetrating the barrier of the necklace, he stares you down the way a wolf does the lonely prey in its path. His eyes match the brooding darkness of a storm at sea, a breed of villainy that threatens those who dare to try him.
“Captain…” Your throat bobs with a nervous swallow. “I– I wasn’t—”
Out of pure instinct to not tempt his fury, your hold on the necklace ceases and it gathers in the roughened pad of his palm, large thumb that has caressed your sensitive nub plenty of times now works against the spherical shape of the pearl, brows heavy in their judgement to assess your punishment. His movement is sudden upon the brink of your awareness, a sharp gasp that cuts into the tender muscle of your chest as he plants you flat on your back, hands both of flesh and metal pin your wrists on either side of you until the bruising ache becomes far too unbearable. But you do nothing to voice the level of your pain. He would not hear of it. His newly erected shaft ghosts over your entrance, the beginnings of your slick painting his already drooling tip.
“I’m beginning to think you like breaking my rules, Siren.”
#female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#pirate au#pirate bucky#siren reader#bucky smut#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes#bucky x reader smut#bucky x reader
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CEO! nanami kento
summary: you came to give your husband his lunch at work but it lead to other things.
a/n: felt like writing and his this is the scenario that came to mind, not edited bc i'm lazy
cw: none really its just smut, some fluff, gojo satoru makes an appearance at the end so uh if you have a personal vendetta against him, i wouldn't read this
wc: 662
~~~
"fuck angel, you're so wet," nanami moans as he fucks you at his desk.
you were supposed to be bringing him lunch. supposed to. as you placed the bag in front of him, a few papers fell behind you.
you bent over to pick them up, not really thinking about your ass being in his face. one thing led to another and now here you are, bent over, titties spilling out your shirt, shorts at your knees, and your cheek pressed into the cold table.
"'nami, we're loud," you whimper, the hard thrusts he's giving you forcing the table to loudly scoot on the floor.
"what are they going to do? fire me? i sign their paychecks. plus, everyone who works on this floor is usually in the cafeteria at this time, anyway. now come here," he grabs you by the back of your neck and pressed his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss and you cant help the moan that escapes your lips.
he releases you and continues to drill into you from behind, his hips slapping against your soft ass.
"gripping. me. so. fucking. tight." he groans behind clenched teeth, accentuating each word with a hard thrust.
you feel your orgasm quickly approaching you reach your hand back to hold on to his wrist.
"fuck- 'nami, im close," you choke out, the pleasure beginning to override your critical thinking skills.
"wait for me, angel. you can do it," he moans as he begins thrusting faster. your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hear your pussy getting wetter.
eventually, nanami begins to pull your hips back to meet his, strokes getting sloppier, and you know he's close too.
"so-so good for me- fuuuckk- so so good. cum with me angel, i need to feel- shit- need to feel you," as the words leave his lips, you let yourself go.
your orgasm hits you hard, your arms going out to search for something to ground yourself. you eventually settle on the edge of the table across you.
nanami cums as soon as you do, hot ropes of cum filling your insides quickly, adding to the wonderful sensation you were feeling. you tried to stay quiet, but you couldn't stop the loud moans that pushed their way out of your throat.
finally, the two of you still and catch your breath, nanami pulling out of you and sitting down, pulling you down with him. you rest your head on his shoulder as your chest falls up and down, and once he can breathe again, he pulls your mouth to his.
you pull away first, leaving a kiss on his cheek as you stand back up. you pull up your pants and he watches you as he tucks his dick away.
"i'll see you at home, okay? have a good day, babe." you tell him and give him a final kiss on his lips after you pick up your purse. nanami grips your ass as he kisses you and smacks it when you turn around to walk away.
you smile to yourself as you leave and when you open the door, you let out a sigh of relief. everyone was truly in the cafeteria.
"well, hello again." a voice to the left of you calls out and you whip your head over, eyes wide. nanami's best friend and business partner, gojo satoru sat in one of the chairs against the wall of nanami's office, legs crossed, a pair of sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. he gives you a knowing smile as he stands up.
"hi, gojo," you whisper, your voice suddenly gone.
"all that screaming must have taken your voice, huh? get better soon," he teases as he shoots you wink and enters nanami's office. you hear nanami groan as gojo enters and you walk to the elevators quickly, feeling embarrassed.
the next time nanami forgets his food at home, he'll just have to order something.
#jjk nanami#nanami kento#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento fluff#jjk smut#nanami x reader#nanami kento smut#nanami smut#nanami x black reader#nanami x black!reader#i am so in love#with nanami#ceo nanami#need him so bad
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somno w/ nagi 😞😞💔 he’s so spent and exhausted after the longest day of practice, but his body betrays itself as soon as you press back against his tall frame. he ruts into you, breathy in your ear and hard in his boxers, and it doesn’t take him long at all, not when you feel so warm and inviting and soft. but it’s alright, he can be motivated by the right things after all — and best believe the way you whimper for him so sweetly does it for him. fully awake now, he will make sure to take proper care of you, just like you always do to him, even when half asleep still :(
*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— late night lovin' + seishiro nagi.
૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — nagi loves the way you look in his bed late night after practice. but he loves the way you crave him in your sleep even more.
⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, heavy smut, established relationship, somnophilia, dry humping, cockwarming, creampies, unprotected!sex, soft dom + pro player!nagi not beta read ! - fem!reader.
⭑ words — 2.5K.
⭑ notes — thank u for indulging my brain rot, truly love him sm !! also first time writng him pls be kind and im sorry this took so long shbs! - m.list✩
seishiro nagi hates when practice runs late.
exhaustion settles into his bones far too quick for his liking, listening to feedback from ego and the others feels like a bore and he can hardly feel bothered to grab something to eat with the team on the way home. he just about manages to shower at the stadium before making it back and by the time he does— you’re there, in his bed like he wants you to be.
seishiro nagi loves to see you sprawled across his sheets after practice.
he’d given you a key to his place after deciding it was too much of a hassle for you to drive over after his training or for him to come pick you up — it was easier if you could make yourself at home. nagi forgoes turning on the lights as he enters the master bedroom, dropping his duffle bag at the entryway after noticing that you’d fallen asleep. probably while you were waiting for him.
you’re so pretty like this, peaceful, curled up amongst seishiro’s expensive cotton linens and duvet. adorable, wearing one of his older team jerseys – the tops of your perfect pudgy thighs just peeking out from under its material.
slipping into bed behind you is easy for seishiro nagi.
the white-haired striker strips off his gear layer by layer and crawls under the blankets to join you, his bare chest snug against your back and an arm slung over your waist lazily.
your response to his closeness is almost instantaneous, pressing yourself back against nagi and finding comfort in his presence behind you despite not being able to see him in the dark. “sei—“ you whimper, soft and needy, the tendrils of sleep still clinging onto you. so cute. nagi thinks you’re so fucking cute. searching for his warmth like this. even while you rest.
you like how he smells, he remembers. that’s why you lean into him like he’s a safety net. why he showers using a body wash with a scent so delicate it could almost be fabric softener and why you wear his clothes whenever you have the chance. the smell of cedarwood and seishiro nagi is comforting to you, especially when he’s away.
not that he minds, not that it necessarily bothers the striker. he likes it, loves to see you bare the very symbol of his passion. the one thing he loves aside from you – soccer.
you visibly relax when he wraps another strong arm around your shoulders and squeezes you close, making you feel small and safe. your pout loses itself in the sleepy babbles that lay on on your lips and crease between your brows fades too.
“sei…?”
“shhh, angel. s’just me,” nagi coos quietly, tucking his face into the back of your neck with his lashes fluttering against it. he just wants to sleep, fall away from the world with you but his body betrays him, annoyingly so. you’re too soft, too warm, to precious for nagi to resist and it’s a little bothersome that he can’t help it.
he’s hard before he even knows it, the heavy outline of his dick pressed against your pert ass– your body pulsing to life back into your boyfriend’s grip to get comfortable once more. he’s exhausted too but maybe it would help to fall asleep like this– if he wore himself down by grinding into you, dragging his hips back and forth, slow and steady so his erection slides through your cheeks from behind.
seishiro’s breathing gets a little heavier, hot and ragged against your bare skin, his grip on you tighter and his cock weighty and wet behind the fabric of his boxers. over the blood pumping through his ears, as full of adrenaline as it would be on the pitch, he hears you whimper out for him – a sound so sweet that he can’t ignore it.
you’ve always had some kind of hold over nagi, one that he can’t ignore. one that pushes him past his limits. the right thing is always able to motivate him, and the way you mewl out for him in your sleep, your body following his lead in a soft, sensual bump and grind is exactly the kind of thing that drives him forward.
you make things a little easier for him, you always do, stretching a leg forward so nagi has better access to the treasure between your thighs. his reward for working so hard today. “ngh…s-sei…” you mumble again, back arching into his chest on its own accord when he pulls his chubby cock out, smearing his arousal along your backside and right over the crotch of your panties.
“keep quiet pretty girl,” the white haired player whispers, as if there’s anyone around to hear you both. maye its that selfishness that’s been instilled in him, the ego, per say but he wants to keep you to himself. “i’ll take care of it from here, ‘kay?”
every ounce of you, every sound you make, every twitch and shift of your body to keep up with his. it’s his to keep. you’re his to keep.
and seishiro nagi loves that.
“uh-huh,” you’re awake now but just barely, parting your thighs to make room for your boyfriend while he grinds into the heat of your core with the same energy you’d expect from a dog in rut. “y’so big sei…” you gasp like you’ve taken a bullet to the heart when nagi’s seedy tip brushes so deliciously against your clothes and swollen clit – his movements precise yet lax, his breath behind you hot, ragged yet soft as it coasts over your skin.
“mm, you can take it…”
“m-more, need more. s-sei—!”
“said to keep quiet, angel.” nagi grunts while his fingers dance up to tap at your lips. “gimme your mouth. c’mere.” you part them like a good girl, dazed as you follow nagi’s needy command and let him slide two digits against your tongue, keeping your mouth pacified and full. it would be enough to put you back to sleep if you wanted.
you’re so good even when you’re barely conscious, sucking on nagi’s fingers and letting him have his way with you. he’s getting annoyed, not with you. never with you. there’s just too many obstacles in his way, too much interfering with reaching his goal and making you feel good.
too many layers of clothes, too many blankes and it’s really starting to piss him off.
“lift your leg, ‘m gonna get these clothes out of the way. what a bother.” seishiro pants wetly into the junction between your neck and shoulder. he works a hand between your bodies, not stopping the lazy roll of his hips from behind, and kicks off the blanket. his sweats are to follow, then your shirt is pulled up enough for his large palm to settle on your tummy, just above the hem of your underwear.
nagi lets out a satisfied hum once your panties are off. you’re so wet for someone so tired but pride bristles in his chest– knowing that only he can get you sticky and soaked like this even when you’re tiptoeing the line between sleeping and being awake.
he wastes no more time, running the length of his creamy cock through the slickness of your puffy folds before easing himself past your fluttering entrance – taking him so well and so easily. he stills for a moment, a shudder shooting down his spine because nagi can never quite get used to having your warmth wrapped around him while your cute little cunt drools down his dick.
seishiro plants wet, open mouthed kisses across your shoulders and neck, hooking his arm under your leg before he starts to move– revelling in your squeals of pleasure that echo around his fingers. “‘mph…angel, so…t-tight,” the words are stuttered, but drawn out in a low and sexy tone that makes you clench down hard. just catching on nagi’s cockhead each time it pulls out of you.”s’not fair. you’re not…fuck, you’re not fair t’me angel.”
even though he’s set the pace, slothully fucking up into your gooey insides, balls tapping lightly at the curve of your ass– you still have an ungodly amount of control over nagi, making his large body curl over yours and reducing him to a sex-crazed mess, a mop of sweaty white hair and muffled moans.
he chases your soaked, salacious pussy impulsively, hips twitching up to meet the back and forth of your own– bearing down on the spongy spot inside of you that makes you go wild.
the world around you both grows hotter and hotter, nagi practically drooling against your back while his fingertips on his freehand sink into your fleshy thighs to leave their mark— tugging you back onto his dick every time he pulls out, only to sink back in. “feels good. so warm. keep me inside, pretty girl,” he tells in a dreamy sigh, you and through the fog of your sleep, squeezing around the thickness at nagi’s base where he stretches you open.
your boyfriend rewards you with the same treatment, giving you more of what you crave and buries himself up to the hilt— deep within your velvet walls, smearing precum along your most sensitive spots. you gargle around his fingers, happy but drowsy and force yourself to circle your ass back onto nagi’s cock so that you lose your minds together.
lust sparks between your sweat drenched bodies in the dead of night, accompanied by the symphony of wet slaps and sticky skin on skin. it’s intoxicating how your cunt squelches with every thrust and languid jut from his slender hips. nagi is lazy and loving, desperate and hungry for the prize of your pleasure.
“sei. w’na cum,” you bleat, needier and more aroused than before when he finally pulls his digits from your drooling mouth. the white haired striker streaks your viscous salvia across your chin and down the front of your body until he hits the pulsing nub between your ruined pussy lips.
his eyelashes flutter right behind your ear, the striker’s low moans echoing into them and sending dopamine in a hot rush across your sleepy brain. arousing it. “so soon? just a little longer…s-shit… ‘m not there yet.”
truth be told, it wouldn’t take much more for nagi to cum— there’s too much going on that overwhelms him. the glisten of his cock as it escapes the snugness of your sloppy sex, the way you cry out for him, the mental image of your face that he can’t see. how your expression is probably twisted into something so delirious with ecstasy.
he could cream your insides right now, fill you up until it’s leaking out of you, staining your thighs and the sweater of his that you wear…but instead he pulls back the hood of your clit— circling the rough pad of his thumb into the sensitive little bud just to draw it out. make the night last longer.
“o-oh fuck! sei!” your voice is broken and husky, making his skin flush and his dick throb within the embrace of your sluice and addictive walls. you’re barely awake and you’ve got the white- haired soccer player fucked out beyond comprehension. “f-faster.”
“nuh-uh, wait f’me angel. please.” if you beg for him any more, especially with that tone, he might burst. give you his load before he’s done toying with you, spreading the filthy mix of your arousals over your clit in the shape of his name— with the hopes of bringing you closer to your high. “wan’ you creamin’ on me first. gotta hold it, pretty girl. you can do that f’me, right? f-fuck…” he rambles into the dark.
there’s a burn to backs of your thighs where nagi’s sweatpants have rubbed you raw while he fucks you raw— his shaft and it’s pretty blue veins coated in a white froth from your tight little hole. but you don’t care, you’re too brainless to even think about caring— babbling your praises, blindly reaching behind you for the dip in your boyfriend’s hips to pull him forward, use it as leverage to fuck you deeper like you want.
so you’re groping at him and he’s groping at you, lost in the twilight zone—fucking languidly against the sheets. the circles on your clit become rougher, tighter just like you do around seishiro who moans loud and proud against your ear, tongue sliding along the skin behind it.
it’s all open mouthed mewls and wondering hands, fat droplets of arousal running down your thighs and precum against your weeping slit. you’re both messes, passionate and tired and hungry for what you can take from one another. nagi’s moans grow higher and higher in octave until they nearly rival your own and the way he so ravenously pounds into you starts to falter.
“sei, ‘m there…t-there!” you warn him through shaky breaths, the coil in your stomach that threatens to unwind setting you on high alert. you feel your impending orgasm burn at your pelvis, tickle your spine and it only spurs nagi on— rolling his hips just right, cantering into you from behind with his balls soaked in your juices.
“yeah, yeah…yeah…i know. ‘m g’na cum for you mhm… angel. d’ya want it? s-say you wan’ it.” whines as if you’ll say no to him but doesn’t give you the choice. his large, lean body anchors you down on his cock as it bullies it’s way through your blistering hot walls to grind against that one special spot that makes you see stars. seishiro doesn’t let up, how can he? when you claw at his ass and his waist and beg him to go deeper.
your orgasm breaks the surface first, waves of your sweet nectar gushing from your slick sex so fast it almost forces nagi out of you. you squeal and he chokes on a staggered breath, every ripple of your cunt dragging him by the ankle towards his own high as he fucks you through your own. nagi’s load pours into your ravaged cunt as if the floodgates had been opened— warm and viscous as it seeps from your puffy folds, painting you in the shade of him.
fatigue sinks it’s fangs into seishiro as he grinds the last of his seed into you, making sure it sticks— shallowly thrusting into you until you both come back down to earth. he loosens hold on you, but only just, the weight of his large frame thrown over you as you catch your breath together.
“w-welcome home sei,” you hum, rolling over to face him, smiling as your boyfriend loses the fight to sleep before reaching up to twirl your fingers through his baby hairs. a gesture that always helps him sleep faster, that you always reward him with at the end of a long day. “missed you.”
“thanks angel, don’ go missin’ me when ‘m right here.” nagi grumbles, clinging onto you, exhausted— if he weren’t wrecking your shit mere moments ago. “now shh, c’mere sleep ‘n with me.” with that, you’re wrapped in his arms, safe and peaceful once again.
and there’s nothing seishiro nagi loves more.
#blue lock x reader#blue lock smut#bllk x reader#bllk smut#nagi x reader#blue lock x you#bllk x you#nagi smut#nagi x you#nagi seishiro x reader#nagi seishiro smut#nagi seishiro x you#seishiro nagi smut#bllk thirst#blue lock thirst#blue lock imagines#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#tteokdoroki#tw: somnophilia
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im feeding yall so good rn PUTTIN IN THE WORK
pairing: dilf!jake sully x fem!na'vi!reader
genre: smut, 18+
warnings: virginity loss bc im nasty, p in v, a lot of dirty talk, hand job, oral (m recieving), EXPLICIT AND MATURE THEMES, daddy kink hihiihih, a lot of depictions, tsaheylu.
notes: couldn't get over my dilf!Jake brain rot so here we are. Daddy Jake walking his innocent, virgin mate through sex
Word count: ab 800!!
Jake carefully guided you to sit in front of him, between his brawny thighs. It was your first time, and he was gonna make sure to teach you everything he knew. “There you go” your gaze followed his big hands as he lazily undid his, seemingly tight, loincloth. You looked up at him with your pretty doe eyes, looking like a deer in headlights.
“It’s okay, baby. We’ll take it nice and slow, yeah?” You nodded, hesitantly placing your soft hands on his thighs. His cock was rock hard, and huge. Being as inexperienced as you were, your mind raced to try and understand how it would fit.
Jake couldn’t handle the innocent, confused look on your face, only fueling his lust for you. He palmed his growing erection, quickly catching your scattered attention. Your hands nervously reached out to him, gently grabbing his hard length. A dry chuckle erupted from deep in his chest as your soft palms started working up and down his shaft, and with some guidance from the older male, you soon got the hang of it.
“Wanna try using your mouth, hm?” His raspy voice sent a shiver up your spine, heat pooling between your soft thighs. You nodded slowly, letting him guide his fat tip to rest against your plush lips. Jake groaned loudly as your wet, hot mouth enveloped his aching cock, resting his large hands on your head.
“That’s right… such a good girl..hmn- takin' daddy’s cock like this.” You felt around for something to grab, something to hold on to as Jake’s bulbous tip abused the back of your tight throat. His gentle hums and moans of approval reached your ears as you gagged on his girth, not yet managing to fit the whole thing in your mouth. “Atta girl..” His lidded eyes scanned your face, relishing in the fact that you struggled to take all of him. You were drooling, eyes fighting the hot tears threatening to spill over.
Jake pulled out with a grunt, not wanting his release to go to waste. The rough of his palm caressed your jaw, gently grabbing it to shift your gaze to him. “Y’ready?” You answered with a simple yes.
His golden eyes searched for any kind of uncertainty in yours, and when he came out empty handed, he laid you down on your back. “Daddy’s gonna teach you everything he knows, would you like that, sweetheart?” you nodded meekly, feeling his digits run over your soaked folds. A quiet moan escaped you as Jake lightly rubbed your clit. Though he had taken his sweet time preparing you earlier, edging you and making you cum so many times that you lost count, your cunt was still begging for another release.
“Still so wet. You filthy girl.” he cooed, teasingly running his tip through your folds. With a deep, satisfied sigh, he finally sunk into you, reveling in the way your velvet walls sucked him in. Your cunt was drenched in arousal, making it easy for him to enter you in one swift motion.
He let you adjust to the new sensation, and his ridiculous size. It felt odd, to say the least, but amazing. His cock stretched you out so good, stuffing your needy cunt deliciously. He was quick to set an easy pace when you gave the green light. His movements languid and sensual as he fucked into you slowly.
It took a while to fully adjust to his size. The pain soon subsided and transformed into immense pleasure as the head of his cock prodded repeatedly at your g-spot. Your walls molded themselves after the shape of his cock, after every vein and curve that adorned it.
Your soft mewls and moans only spurred Jake on, tempting him to thrust harder, but he knew better. Instead, he brought his hand to rest between your plush thighs, digits rubbing over your puffy clit in sync with his affectionate thrusts.
“That’s my girl. Damn you’re tight, sweetheart.” Your cunt was squeezing him tightly as he rolled his hips into yours, and he couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t get enough of the sensation of your younger, soft skin under his rough hands, couldn’t get enough of the fact that you wanted him to be your first. His thoughts were interrupted when your hands came up to carefully grab hold of his thick braid, pulling it over his brawny shoulder. His heartbeat increased by a thousand when you connected the tendrils of your kuru with his, pupils dilating as the unfamiliar, soothing feeling coursed through the both of you.
The connection was enough to tip you both over the edge. Jake’s hot release painted your velvet insides white while your pussy spasmed, milking him raw. You came hard, body jolting as Jake halted his sloppy thrusts. He chuckled, plopping down to lay by your side. You finally came to your senses when Jake pulled you into his chest, face growing a shade darker as you realized what you had done.
“It was that good, eh?”
#jake sully smut#jake sully x reader#young jake sully#jake sully fanfiction#jake sully#james cameron avatar#avatar 2009#avatar pandora#avatar twow#avatar fanfiction#avatar smut#jake sully imagine#avatar way of water#jake sully fluff#avatar x reader#jake sully headcanon#jake sully headcanons#avatar jake sully#jake sully x afab#jake sully x fem!reader#jake sully avatar#jake sully x you#daddy!jake sully#dilf jake sully#jake sully x reader smut
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Ever heard of the florida everglades man?
Basically that but with some nagas and swamp puppies who just spectate them
Reader is the florida everglades man. He want to see a 20ft snake and yoinks a few insects or snakes showing them off while barefooted.
Search them on the clock app if you don't know who im talking about
☎️
Oh Chief this is genius - A reader without an ounce of fear in their bones who takes a daily stroll in the swamp near their home hunting for creatures native to the area such as nagas and other reptile adjacent humanoids as well as other hybrids/monsters like spiders. Darling should have ended up as someone's meal by now, but most that come across them can't believe the boldness of this foolish human.
Everglades Darling yoinking a smaller reptile/insect hybrid and proudly presenting them to their camera or creeping up to a sleeping naga or "swamp puppy" for a good shot at their scales.
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Everglades Darling: Hey, guys, I'm in the Everglades and I just came across another swamp puppy. Thought he was sleeping - turns out I was wrong-
[Darling pans their camera up to reveal the crocodile hybrid clutching them to their chest]
Everglades Darling: I think he likes me.
-
Everglades Darling: aw, a boa - excuse me [pulls the naga hiding behind some bushes into their arms]
Naga: [hisses violently - gearing to bite reader's arm]
Everglades Darling: Beautiful color. One of the prettiest snakes I've seen out here. Off you go now-
[Everglades Darling attempts to let go of the naga who immediately latches onto their waist, wrapping their tail around the humans legs]
Yan Naga: Do you mean it?~
-
Everglades Darling: And here I find myself surrounded by swamp puppies again. It's alligator breeding season so I shouldn't get to close..... Why are you all staring at me like that?
#yandere oc#yandere x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere insert#yandere scenarios#yandere x you#yandere blurb#yandere naga#yandere hybrid
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^᪲᪲᪲ kisses from all the way across the universe
SYNOPSIS: it was a popular notion that the moles on one's skin are places where their lover in the past had kissed them. but, you thought otherwise.
PAIRING: mingyu x gn!reader
GENRE: fluff, established relationship
WORD COUNT: 900+
notes: npr !! another self indulgent piece because im sad that i don't have a pretty lil partner whose moles i could kiss :( but also i was supposed to post this on mingyu's bday or a little after 😭 also as i was writing this i realized just how much i didn't like how it turned out like i could personally do better than that 😞
also requests are open so you can send in requests if you have any (it doesn't necessarily have to be fluff !) 🥹🥹
it was the evening after mingyu's birthday. the room had a dull glow to it, the only source of light being the night lamp shining bright by the bedside table. you were not only engulfed by your boyfriend's buff figure, but also silence, save for mingyu's soft breathing falling against your chest.
the rest of the day up until now was a slow blur, where the two of you took a nap for the majority of the day, curled up against one another, arms and limbs tangled as though you both were one body instead of two.
mingyu had his head pressed against your chest. he was awake, but he had his eyes closed as he reveled in the feeling of your fingernails gently scraping against his scalp. you look down at him, a fond smile painting your slightly chapped lips. mingyu looked peaceful; content.
you lean down to press a kiss against the mole on the side of his jaw. you loved mingyu's moles. sometimes, when he'd lay in bed without wearing a shirt, you'd take your time, mapping out the moles on his honey-colored skin like astrologers mapping out stars in the sky.
when there's new ones on his skin, you'd excitedly point it out, leaving a gentle kiss behind.
a soft chuckle escapes mingyu's lips. his eyes open and he looks up at you, gleaming with fondness. "back at it again?" he asks, referring to your habit of kissing his moles.
you smile at him, your eyes turning into little crescents, "they always stand out, it's not my fault," you shrug and to reiterate your point, you lean down to peck the tip of his nose.
mingyu pulls away from you. with a gentle dip on his side of the bed mingyu holds himself up by his elbows. "do you think you were my lover in my past life too?" he asks.
a soft chuckle leaves your lips as you rech forward to brush his cheek with the pad of your thumb. "is it because of the moles?"
he gives a nod, eager to hear your answer as he leans in to your touch. you hum softly as you search for an answer in your head before you meet his expectant eyes again. "i don't know about that, really," you reply, honestly, "i'd hope so, though. But, i surely don't think your moles are marks left behind by your previous lover's kisses."
"is that so?" mingyu
you nod slowly before shifting in your place so that you're on your side with your elbow pressed against the mattress and your hand cradling your head, pretty much mirroring mingyu.
"i think," you begin, leaning forward to leave a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose once again, making him scrunch his nose and let out a short giggle, "if it was left behind by your lover in your past life, new ones wouldn't form as you grow. there's so many galaxies in the universe. there's a million different you— at least, that's what i believe."
"i think, new moles form on your skin as they get kissed by their partner. but not just any partner. new ones form only when you've found the one for yourself. you know, your soulmate."
mingyu listens to you intently, blinking slowly. a soft smile spreads across his lips, his features blooming with love and possibly a hint of shyness, "so...," he trails off, "do you think moles are formed on places where the me in different universes get kissed with love?"
you nod, mirroring his smile. "so, do you think they'd have moles all over their body in places where you've kissed me with love?" he asks you, his eyes searching yours for an answer.
you stay silent for a few moments. mingyu always had a way to make your heart stop and skip several beats. he made your stomach drop and your eyes water all the time. but, not in a bad way. never in a bad way.
"yeah," you say, breaking the silence. your voice was almost a whisper now. "i think the other mingyus in other universes have moles on different parts of their body too."
it was mingyu's turn to go silent. you knew he was thinking. you knew he wanted to ask more. "do you think you're the one kissing those moles on my skin in the other universes too?" he asks.
you suck in a harsh breath. it was hard for you to express love for someone the way mingyu did. mingyu is usually shows love in a loud way. his way of showing love could only be described as bright, vibrant colors on a blank canvas.
you, on the other hand, showed love in quieter ways. if his way of showing love was bright, vibrant colors, then yours was more quiet. you loved mingyu, you knew that much. but, what you feel for him transcends the modern definition of love.
and, it was times like these when yoy're reminded of just how much you love the man laying by your side.
loving mingyu was painful. but, it was a pain that made you crave for more. you've never loved someone so much that it makes you want to rip your heart out of your chest and squeeze it with your own bare hands.
you lean forward, placing a kiss on his forehead and then moving down to gently brush your lips against his. "yes," you answer him.
your eyes hold so much love that mere words would fail in comparison as they meet mingyu's. "it's gonna be you and i in every universe. i'll be the one to kiss the moles on your skin," you brush your lips against the mole on his cheek.
"and, i'll be the one to kiss new ones onto your skin that a different version of me kisses in a different universe."
#seventeen#kpop#seventeen oneshot#mingyu x reader#mingyu#mingyu oneshot#fluff#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#gyuscoquetteribbon
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I lied about only making one ship post :/
Thank you @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 your prompts fueled this one. Specifically this one.
Dead serious soulmate au but in separate universes.
In the DP universe soulmates are widespread with pretty much everyone having one. In the past soulmates were only seen as purely romantic and it was abhorrent if you didn't have one, rejected/cut off your soulmate or they died before you.
Soulmates still heavily impact DP universes present society but not in the same ways as before. Current day Soulmates can be platonic or romantic and while it wasn't as demonized as it was in the past cutting off a soulmate is still an incredibly taboo.There are different types of soulmates (ie the red string, skin writing, telepathy, shared sensation,..)
Danny shares pain with his soulmate. While he can't exactly communicate directly with his soulmate he has the ability to heal them a little through the bond. Danny's soulmate was always getting hurt somehow or another to the point he had an unnaturally high pain tolerance by the time he turned 14.
His soulmate hasn't ever healed him back and sometimes Danny forgot he existed at all. As a half ghost it was so much easier to heal his soulmate; with just a surge of energy he could completely heal any injuries his soulmate acquired and go back to whatever it was he was doing before his soulmate got hurt.
Danny was fine with forgetting his soulmate existed. Whoever was on the other end clearly didn't want anything to do with him considering they couldn't even pitch in to heal a papercut. He would still heal his soulmate when he needed it but he just gave up hoping for any kind of relationship with him.
On the DC side of things Soulmates are extremely rare and little to nothing is know about them. Damian of course is one of the very few people who had a soulmate; the small blue soulmark on his chest was proof of that. Damian's soulmark was ignored treated like it didn't exist at all until the day it started healing him.
Then his soulmate was his everything. His soulmate was someone he needed to protect with every fiber of his being and someone he desperately needed to find. Damian kept these beliefs even after he left the league and especially when his soulmates healing powers got stronger.
After years of searching the last place he expected to meet his soulmate was some dingy alleyway...
He could finally start courting him.
#I don't usually ship anything but#Them boys got my brain in a chokehold#dp x dc#dpxdc#deadserious#damian wayne x danny fenton#Clockwork dropped Danny into Dc. Danny proceeded to immediately get mugged#kinda yandere Damian#the batfam would prevent him from doing anything too drastic#Danny getting kidnapped and leaving with a ridiculous amount of money from his kidnapper's apologetic father: ??#call that reverse ransom
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