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pucksandpower · 3 months

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Best Laid Plans

Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!Reader

Summary: you were just supposed to be a means to an end — a way for Carlos to get back at your father for dropping him — but the best laid plans often go awry and you quickly become so much more than that

Warnings: 18+ content and manipulation

Note: did I spend the whole day writing this to celebrate Carlos’ win? Maybe …

So much love to @struggling-with-drivers for always giving me the best ideas

The warm Portuguese sun beats down on Carlos as he strolls through the luxurious resort grounds, trying and failing to shake the anger simmering inside him.

How could Ferrari do this to him? After all he has given to the team over the past few seasons? To be so unceremoniously dumped for Lewis fucking Hamilton is a slap in the face he can barely comprehend.

He kicks at the pebbled path, hands jammed in his pockets, catching the eye of a young woman lounging by the pool up ahead. She gives him a warm smile that does strange things to his insides for a moment before he recognizes her — Y/N Vasseur.

The reality of who she is hits Carlos like a truck. The daughter of the team principal who betrayed him.

An idea begins to form in Carlos’ mind, a cruel little seed taking root. If Ferrari wants to play hardball, he can play harder. And what better way to get back at Fred than through his precious daughter?

Putting on his most charming grin, Carlos changes course to approach you. “Y/N, fancy running into you here,” he lies easily. “I didn’t realize you were vacationing at this resort too.”

You sit up, shielding your eyes against the sun’s glare. “Carlos! What a pleasant surprise.” Your smile is bright and genuine, setting off warning bells in the back of Carlos’ mind. He quickly silences them — this is just collateral damage.

“I was just getting ready for a dip. Care to join me?” You gesture towards the welcoming blue waters.

Carlos pretends to consider it for a moment. “You know what, I would love to.”

Stripping off his shirt, he can’t help but sneak glances at your swimsuit-clad figure as you slide into the pool, telling himself it’s just for show. You really are stunning though, he has to admit. This might not be so difficult after all.

“So what’s a beautiful young woman like yourself doing all alone at a place like this?” Carlos asks once he’s waded in beside you.

You let out a tinkling laugh, sweeping wet hair away from your face. “Taking a much needed break from real life, I suppose. My job can be … demanding at times.”

That piques Carlos’ interest — to be quite honest, he had just assumed you did nothing all day. “Oh? Do tell, I’m fascinated.”

With a bashful look, you launch into an explanation of your high-powered career that genuinely impresses Carlos despite himself. You’re whip-smart, articulate, and passionate about your work in a way he can relate to.

“Wow,” he finds himself saying once you’ve finished. “I don’t know why, but I wasn’t expecting that from you. Not that I’m judging a book by its cover or anything!” He adds quickly at your arched eyebrow.

You let out another of those bright laughs. “Don’t worry, I get that a lot. People see a privileged girl and make all sorts of assumptions.”

There’s a hint of bitterness underlying the lightness of your tone that Carlos picks up on all too well. He knows what it’s like to be looked down on and underestimated.

“For what it’s worth, I think what you do is really impressive,” he finds himself saying honestly. “And anyone who thinks less of you for it is a fool.”

The words seem to catch you off guard for a moment before your expression melts into a warm smile. “Why Carlos Sainz, I do believe you’re flirting with me.”

He grins back unrepentantly. “Is it working?”

You pretend to consider it for a moment before laughing again. “Maybe a little.”

The flirtatious back-and-forth continues as you both float lazily in the pool, Carlos quickly getting caught up in the effortless fun of it. You match him quip for quip, parry for parry, in a way he’s not used to from women. It’s exhilarating and unexpected.

In fact, he’s so caught up in your company that he nearly forgets his original intention entirely. Until a stray thought brings the memory crashing back down … you’re Fred Vasseur’s daughter.

The realization is like a bucket of cold water being upended over Carlos’ head. What is he doing? This woman hasn’t done anything to wrong him. Going after you just to get petty revenge on your father is ugly and uncalled for. He should just be the bigger man, swallow the insult Ferrari dealt him, and move on.

But then he thinks about the disrespect, the callousness of dumping him like dead weight after all he bled for the team. Perhaps a little payback is in order after all.

With a wicked grin, Carlos begins swimming slowly towards you, an unmistakable glint in his eye. You seem to pick up on it, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “What’s that look for?”

“Just thinking,” he murmurs once he’s close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath. “About how I could make this vacation even more … memorable.”

His heavy-lidded gaze drops to your lips for just a moment, but you catch it. You bite your lower lip unconsciously as heat blazes between you. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” Carlos all but purrs, reaching out to gently cup your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You shiver despite the warmth of the day, eyelids fluttering. “If you’ll allow me?”

For a long stretch, you seem to be rendered speechless, pupils blown wide as you study his face intently. Then, so softly, “Yes.”

That’s all the permission Carlos needs before he’s crashing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

The moment your lips meet his, it’s like a jolt of electricity courses through Carlos. He kisses you deeply, urgently, all thoughts of revenge or ill-intent evaporating from his mind. This is pure want, unbridled desire singing through his veins.

You return the kiss with equal fervor, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. Your mouth is warm, soft, pillowy — everything Carlos didn’t know he was craving until this very moment. He skims his hands over the slick curves of your body beneath the pool’s surface, marveling at the gasps and sighs he pulls from you with each exploratory touch.

When you finally break apart, you’re both panting heavily, faces flushed. Carlos drinks in the sight of you — hair tousled, lips swollen, and eyes dark with wanting. He’s never seen anything more beautiful.

“Carlos ...” You breathe his name like a prayer and something primal uncurls in his lower belly.

Instead of responding, he simply crushes his mouth to yours once more, walking you backward until your back gently hits the pool’s tiled edge. You let out a muffled moan as he settles between your parted thighs, the heated line of his body flush against yours.

One of his hands slides up over the soft skin of your ribs to cup your breast as you arch shamelessly into his touch. He drags his lips in hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your jaw and down the graceful column of your neck, relishing the way you keen beneath his attention.

“You feel so good, cariño,” he rumbles against the feverish skin just below your ear, punctuating the words with a deliberately slow roll of his hips that has you releasing a broken whimper. “So fucking perfect ...”

In this moment, with you writhing and mewling in his arms, Carlos has never been more grateful for his commitment to physical fitness. He knows he can keep this up all day if need be, ravishing you over and over until you’re a limp, sated puddle.

He runs his tongue in a scorching path up the side of your neck before returning to that sinful mouth, swallowing your desperate little moans hungrily. You cling to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you tethered, nails raking deliciously over his back and shoulders in a way that will surely leave marks. Carlos loves it, loves the proof of your passion painted on his skin in thin red lines.

Trailing his lips across the hinge of your jaw, he murmurs “Should we take this somewhere more private, princesa?”

You let out a shuddering breath, hips canting up instinctively to meet each roll of his. “God, yes ... please ...”

The sound of your needy whine sends a molten thrill straight to Carlos’ cock. He’s fully hard and aching for you, straining against his swim trunks with every second that passes. If possible, he wants you even more.

With a grunt of effort, he hooks his hands beneath your thighs and hikes your legs up around his waist in one swift motion. You let out a startled squeak that quickly dissolves into a moan as he shifts against you just right, creating delicious friction. Your arms wind around his neck as you bury your face in the curve where his neck meets his shoulder.

“You feel that, cariño?” Carlos rumbles darkly. “I can’t wait to be inside you. Stretching you so perfectly full of me. Will you be a good girl and take it? Every. Last. Inch?”

He emphasizes each of the final three words with a firm grind of his hips, rutting his rigid length against your clothed heat. Your back bows in response, mouth dropping open on a silent wail of pleasure. Carlos can feel your sticky wetness soaking through the thin material of your swimsuit bottoms and groans harshly.

“P-please ...” You keen, worrying his earlobe between your teeth. “I need you, Carlos. I need it so bad ...”

And just like that, the trance is broken. Carlos blinks, suddenly acutely aware that you’re grinding shamelessly against each other in the very public pool area of this high-end resort. A few pointed looks from other guests are enough to have a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.

Clearing his throat, he reluctantly pulls himself back and sets you on your feet. You let out a disappointed whimper that goes straight to his groin.

“P-perhaps we got a bit carried away, princesa,” Carlos huffs out a laugh, running a hand through his damp curls. “Why don’t we go somewhere a bit more … private to continue this?”

You bite your plump lower lip and Carlos has to resist the urge to lean forward and free it with his teeth. Nodding eagerly, you cast a look around before tugging his hand and heading for the exit, leaving a trail of water droplets in your wake.

Carlos follows eagerly, openly ogling the way your soaked swimsuit hugs every tantalizing curve. He’s never been so grateful for his decision to book one of the private beachfront villas at this resort — just a stone’s throw from where you’re leading him, he’ll finally be able to have you all to himself.

The thought has him semi-frantically fumbling for the keycard as you press urgent, open-mouthed kisses to any patch of bare skin you can find — his shoulder, his neck, the line of his jaw. By the time he gets the door open you’re both panting like you’ve run a marathon, desire thrumming white-hot through your veins.

The second you’re inside, Carlos has you pressed back against the door, forearms braced on either side of your head as he towers over you. For the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crosses your features and he’s abruptly reminded of who you are.

“Are you sure about this?” He murmurs lowly, searching your eyes. “Because if we do this, I can promise you there’s no going back for me, cariño.”

You visibly swallow hard but then give a small, determined nod. “I want this, Carlos. I want you.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s capturing your lips in another searing, desperate kiss that has you melting against him. He walks you backward, never breaking contact until the backs of your legs hit the edge of the plush bed. With a growl, he hooks his hands beneath your thighs and hitches your legs around his hips once more.

You let out a breathless giggle as he tumbles you both down onto the soft cotton sheets, immediately rolling until he’s blanketed by the gorgeous expanse of your body. God, you’re even more stunning like this — hair fanned out in a tousled riot, cheeks flushed and lips swollen, eyes glazed with naked wanting.

Carlos takes a moment just to appreciate the view, raking his eyes over every inch he can see. A tremor goes through you beneath his weighty gaze and he smirks, leaning down to trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of your slender throat.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, princesa,” he rumbles against your overheated skin. “How many times I’ve thought about having you just like this, spread out beneath me and begging for it ...”

The truth is, he hasn’t thought about it at all until this very day. But something about the way your breath hitches and your hips cant up instinctively at his words makes Carlos want to keep going.

“I’ve watched you, you know,” he lies smoothly, relishing the full-body shiver that wracks your frame. He nips along the graceful line of your collarbone and you whine softly in the back of your throat. “Couldn’t tear my eyes away whenever you were around. Imagining what delicious little sounds you might make with my cock buried inside you ...”

You moan then, loud and unabashed as you tug needily at his hair to bring his mouth back up to yours. Carlos chuckles darkly into the kiss, reveling in how utterly desperate he’s managed to make you for him so quickly.

“Is this what you want, princesa? You want me to fuck you?” He keeps his tone a low, filthy rasp against the plush of your lips. “Hard and deep and ruthless until you can’t remember anything but my name on your tongue?”

“Yes!” The word rushes out in an urgent whine and Carlos lets out a feral growl, slamming his hips firmly against yours in one rough grind that has your mouth dropping open on a broken cry of ecstasy.

Moving with purposeful efficiency, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms and tugs them down over the swell of your hips and off completely. He shoves his own trunks down just far enough to free his throbbing length, giving it a few firm strokes to spread the pearling bead of precome over the swollen head.

With a low, heated look, Carlos hitches your legs over his shoulders and lines the blunt head of his cock up with your entrance. Just from this angle, he can see how slick and swollen you already are for him, glistening with arousal.

“Last chance, cariño,” he rumbles, rubbing himself in one deliciously torturous swipe through your folds and back again. You moan loudly, back bowing off the bed. “After this, I won’t be able to stop until you’re utterly ruined for anyone else’s touch ...”

The sound you make is practically inhuman, hand shooting out to grasp at his hip almost painfully hard. “Carlos … Carlos, please!”

Never one to deny such a desperate plea, Carlos braces one hand beside your head and slowly, inexorably begins to sink into your welcoming heat.

The tight, slick heat of your core enveloping Carlos inch by agonizing inch is utterly sublime. He has to grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut to keep from embarrassing himself right then and there. You’re impossibly tight, so perfectly molded to his shape — he’s never felt anything quite like it.

Beneath him, you keen softly as he stretches and fills you in one steady glide. Your fingernails bite crescent moons into the firm planes of his back as if you’ll fall apart if not anchored to him. Carlos rumbles his approval low in his chest at the sweet sting.

Once he’s fully sheathed, hips flush with yours, he pauses to simply bask in the feeling for a long moment. You feel so indescribably good wrapped around his throbbing length — hot and snug and fluttering subtly like your body can’t decide whether to grip him tighter or ease his way.

“Fuck, cariño ...” The words tear from Carlos’ throat in a ragged groan. “You feel incredible. So perfect for me.”

You whimper wordlessly in response, flexing and releasing your inner muscles in a way that has him seeing stars behind his eyelids. He captures your mouth in a filthy, demanding kiss to swallow your desperate little noises. It’s all he can do not to start pounding away with reckless abandon.

Pulling back slowly until just the thick head of his cock remains inside your clutching heat, Carlos locks eyes with you. Your pupils are blown wide, lips parted enticingly with each panting breath, the picture of wanton desire. He’s never seen anything so erotic in his life.

You must read the promise in his expression because suddenly you’re nodding frantically and chasing his retreating hips with a needy whine.

“Please, Carlos!” You keen desperately, nails scoring lines of fiery pleasure-pain down the rigid plane of his back. “I need it, I need you to-”

He doesn’t let you finish, snapping his hips forward in one hard thrust that buries him to the hilt. The broken cry that tears from your perfect lips goes straight to his dick.

Carlos repeats the harsh, punishing rhythm over and over, relishing the snug drag of your velvet walls against his aching cock. He soon has you a mewling, mindless mess beneath him, whining his name like a holy mantra with each powerful stroke.

“That’s it, princesa,” he rasps against the flushed curve of your neck, lips brushing saltily over your overheated skin. “Take it all for me. Every. Last. Fucking. Inch.”

As punctuation, he slams home with a sharp roll of his hips that has you keening shrilly and throwing your head back. You clutch at him desperately, meeting each heavy thrust in perfect counterpoint as he picks up the pace. The air is thick with the obscene sounds of skin sliding relentlessly together and your punched-out whimpers and moans.

Carlos has never felt so deliriously consumed by physicality before. It’s like his whole world has narrowed down to this moment, this connection of your joined bodies moving as one. He wants to burn the memory of how you feel, how you sound, how you taste, into his mind forever.

“Look at me,” he growls against the sweat-slick curve of your jaw when your eyes start to drift shut in ecstasy. “I wanna see those pretty eyes when you fall apart on my cock, princesa.”

You force your lids open with obvious effort, irises wild and hazy with lust. Carlos feels a molten surge of possessive desire lash through his veins at the sight. He slams into you with renewed fervor, savoring the high, desperate whine it punches from your parted lips.

“That’s it, cariño ... fuck, you’re exquisite like this.” His praise comes out in a ruined rasp but it seems to spur you on. Your nails dig bruising furrows into his lower back as you meet him thrust for bruising thrust.

Carlos can feel the telltale tightening and fluttering in your inner walls that signals your impending release like a vise grip around his cock. He wants nothing more than for you to shatter apart on his length. Slipping one hand between your sweat-slicked bodies, he finds the swollen bundle of nerves and rolls it firmly between calloused fingertips.

You release a strangled scream, back bowing off the mattress as white-hot pleasure spikes through you. “Carlos! Oh my god, Carlos, I’m … I can’t ...”

“Come for me, princesa,” Carlos encourages hoarsely against the side of your neck. He continues to work you over with nimble fingers in time with the punishing snap of his hips. “Let me feel you come apart all over my cock. Fucking soak it ...”

The guttural river of carnal filth coming from his lips seems to be the final straw, sending you crashing violently over the edge. You seize up around him with a shrill, sobbing wail, inner muscles clamping down in hot, pulsing waves. Carlos curses roughly, eyes squeezing shut against the unbelievable sensation of being massaged and milked for every drop.

If he thought the vice grip of your orgasm was intense, the aftermath is even more sublime. You lie utterly limp and boneless beneath him, still aflutter and fluttering in sweet, rhythmic clenches around his cock. He grits his jaw and fights to keep control, knowing he won’t last much longer buried in your intoxicating heat like this.

When you finally regain some coherency, eyes fluttering open with a dazed murmur of his name, Carlos pulls back slowly until just the throbbing crown remains inside. He intends to give you a brief respite before chasing his own thunderous release, but the moment he starts to withdraw your legs lock high around his hips.

“No ...” You keen, nails raking pleadingly down his back. The desperate craving in your tone very nearly undoes him. “Carlos, please. Don’t stop ...”

Growling low in his chest, Carlos immediately buries himself home once more — this time with a single, powerful thrust that has your brows shooting up as the air rushes from your lungs in a strangled cry. Clearly, you still need it as much as he does.

He fists one hand in the tousled hair at the nape of your neck, using the grip to tilt your head to one side as he lays a searing path of nips and sucking kisses along the exposed column. You shudder and whimper beneath him, utterly pliant and receptive to his claiming touches.

“Tell me what you want, cariño,” he rasps between rough drags of teeth over your thundering pulse point. He remains buried to the hilt, muscles bunched and quivering with the effort of holding himself rigid and still inside you. “Use your words and tell me.”

For a long moment, you seem too dazed and overwhelmed to reply. Then, in a small, wrecked voice, “I want … I want you to fuck me, Carlos. Please ...” Your eyes are glazed yet earnest, boring into his from beneath sooty lashes. “Don’t hold back. I need to feel you come too.”

A harsh groan is punched from Carlos’ lungs at your plea. Letting himself go and really taking you the way his body screams at him to would be heaven and hell all at once.

There’s likely no coming back from it — he’ll ruin you for anyone else’s touch, just as he warned. Once all is said and done, you’ll be irrevocably his in a way that frightens and exhilarates him to his core.

For a heart-stopping moment, he hesitates. And then you moan again — a thin, keening sound of utter desperation — and it’s like the last thread of Carlos’ control snaps completely.

“Hold on tight then, cariño ... because I won’t be able to stop.”

That’s the only warning he gives before pulling almost fully out and slamming back home in one brutal thrust that drives the air from your lungs on a high, shocked cry. He doesn’t let up from there — turning you over onto your belly and dragging your hips up onto his thighs so he can take you from behind in a series of ruthless, punishing strokes.

You quickly become an incoherent, sobbing mess beneath his onslaught, hands clawing uselessly at the sheets as he pounds into you again and again like he’s trying to split you apart. Carlos relishes the sharp smack of sweat-slick flesh on flesh, the strained crescendo of your hoarse wails, the drug-like delirium of being utterly surrounded and consumed by your scorching velvet grip.

It’s too much and not enough all at once. He clutches you flush against him, one big hand spread over your lower stomach like he could somehow force his cock impossibly deeper. The other winds around to toy and tug almost cruelly at your taut, reddened nipples — drawing out a stream of broken, overwhelmed whimpers.

Carlos has never felt more powerful. Body and mind, he owns you utterly in this moment. The thought is nearly enough to send him skating right over the edge into oblivion.

Instead, he jerks you up onto your knees fully so he can plunge into your straining, overworked sex at a different angle — this one hitting something deep inside that has you screaming hoarsely. He captures the wild thrash of your head in the curve of one sweat-slick bicep to bare the elegant line of your throat to his hungry mouth.

“Could you possibly have taken any more of me, princesa?” Carlos husks against the side of your neck, relishing the way it makes you tremble and clench even harder around his pistoning length. “You were made just to be split open on my cock ...”

You let out a garbled sound halfway between agreement and overwhelmed protest. Carlos snarls against your racing pulse, sucking a blatant mark of possession just below your jaw where everyone will be able to see before abruptly rolling you both back over.

He looms above you once more, grinding steadily into your core with deep, purposeful strokes that leave you writhing and wailing with over-stimulation. But Carlos isn’t finished yet — isn’t anywhere close to getting his fill.

“Look at me, cariño,” he commands in a guttural rasp, waiting with molten, heavy-lidded eyes until your lust-drunk stare meets his. “I need to see that pretty face when I come inside you ...”

His words seem to energize you somewhat, your eyes snapping sharper with renewed awareness.

And then, incredibly, you cunt flutters and grips down around him again in the unmistakable clutch of another orgasm ripping through you like a livewire. Carlos has to use every ounce of stamina and control not to follow you right over that blinding edge as you thrash and shriek beautifully beneath him.

By the time you come back down, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, Carlos is practically vibrating with the force of his impending release. His movements have taken on a desperate edge, hips snapping in erratic, forceful jabs as he chases that final blissful oblivion.

When your sated, velvety heat squeezes rhythmically one final time, Carlos throws his head back with his own roar of release. White-hot rapture spikes through every nerve ending as his balls tighten in excruciating bliss. His world narrows down to the exquisite pulsing of your sheathed depths rippling and drawing every last drop from him in endless, blistering waves.

It seems to stretch on forever, Carlos unable and unwilling to move from his impaled position even once the final shudders have wrung him dry. He simply remains blanketed over you, lungs heaving and muscles quaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

When he finally regains enough presence of mind to open his eyes and look down at you, the devotion burning in your spent, glowing expression makes his breath catch. For a long, fragile moment, it’s like you’re the only two people in the world.

Eventually, your eyes drift shut on a contented sigh and your body goes lax and pliant against the sheets once more. Carefully, Carlos eases out of your swollen, used entrance and rolls to collapse in a sweaty heap beside you. He immediately tugs you into his embrace, savoring the feeling of your damp, feverish skin pressed to his.

As you drift off to slumber coiled against his chest, Carlos presses a lingering, tender kiss to your crown and tightens his arms around you. He can feel the words pressing at his lips, straining to be released into the silence of this moment.

For now, he keeps them locked behind his teeth. But already he knows this isn’t simply lust or passion or a primal need for revenge that will fade with time. This was always meant to be more — something deeper …. everything Carlos never even realized he was missing until you stormed into his life in a whirlwind of smiles and secrets and blinding desire.

He’s in trouble now. Trouble of the very best kind.

***

Pale morning light filters in through the sheer curtains as Carlos blinks awake slowly. For a disoriented moment, he’s unsure of his surroundings — the rumpled white linens tangled around his naked body are certainly not what he’s used to waking up in.

Then the previous night’s events come rushing back in a heated wave. The pool … the frantic, desperate passion as he took you again and again until you were both hollowed out and sated … finally collapsing into a sweaty pile together. Carlos feels his chest tighten with a complicated swirl of emotions.

He turns his head on the pillow to find the source of the delicious warmth pressed along his side. And just like that, everything else falls away.

You’re tangled up with him still, one shapely leg hooked over his and an arm flung possessively across his torso. Loose riotous locks tickle Carlos’ skin where your face is half-buried in the curve of his neck.

He has to tamp down the overwhelming urge to pull you even closer, to wrap you in his arms and inhale the sweet, clean scent of your hair.

Like this — sleep-rumpled and soft in the morning’s buttery rays — you look almost unbearably lovely. An ache blossoms behind Carlos’ ribs as he studies the delicate fan of your lashes brushing flushed cheekbones and the gentle part of those full lips. Disheveled and without a stitch of make-up, you’re somehow even more breathtakingly beautiful.

Unconsciously, Carlos’ fingers find their way into your tangled tresses, lightly stroking and playing with the silken strands. You make a small, snuffling sound of contentment and burrow infinitesimally closer. He freezes, worried he’s disturbed your slumber, but your features remain smooth and serene.

He should get up. He should definitely get up and extract himself from this warm, addictive little bubble you’ve created before things go any further. This was only ever supposed to be a fling — a deliciously vindictive way to get back at your father for how he so callously cast Carlos aside.

Yet even as Carlos turns the thought over in his head, it rings hollow. What happened between you last night transcended anything so petty and cruel as revenge.

When he was sheathed so deeply inside you, your bodies moving in perfect sync like they were made for each other, Carlos felt something far more profound than just physical gratification. It was spiritual … cosmic, even, like every star in the universe had finally clicked into perfect alignment.

He should be disgusted with himself for having such saccharine notions. Carlos has always considered himself a realist — someone grounded in facts and figures, not given to romantic flights of fancy whatsoever. Yet here he is, helplessly mooning over a woman he barely knows all because of one night of incredible sex.

Except … Carlos is self-aware enough to recognize there was more to it than that, even if he can’t put words to the feeling yet. Some invisible cord has been lashed between you in a knot that feels unbreakable. Some intangible shift has occurred in his perspective that he can’t seem to walk back from.

Perhaps you sensed it too in the way you gazed at him afterwards — not just satiated, but glowing with a sort of wondering, naked adoration far too profound for a mere fuck. Carlos knows he should have been unnerved by the depth of emotion in your spent, happy features. And yet, he only felt it mirrored and compounded tenfold within himself.

With a frustrated huff, he tugs you closer and burrows his face into your hair, allowing your warm, comforting scent to soothe his wildly spiraling thoughts. You make another soft sound and your fingers twitch where they’re splayed over his ribs — reflexively trying to pull him in even tighter.

“What are you doing to me, princesa?” Carlos murmurs, low and graveled, against the crown of your head. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go at all ...”

Because the truth is, this was never meant to be anything more than a fleeting dalliance — an explosive joining of bodies and nothing more. But now that he’s had you, had this bone-deep connection to you, Carlos doesn’t think he can let it go so easily. The prospect of never again feeling you wrapped so perfectly around him in every sense of the word is abruptly gut-wrenchingly awful.

Which leaves him at an impasse. Because you … you are the daughter of the very man who unceremoniously discarded Carlos like an old rag after he gave everything to Ferrari. The offspring of the person who threw him away in a way that cut all the way to his core.

How could he possibly pursue anything real with you after that? It would be a horrific conflict of interests and constantly make things unbearably awkward, to say the very least. Not to mention Carlos has no idea if you even want more than just this one night of passion between you anyway. Perhaps to you he really was just an itch to scratch, a bout of impulsive lust to take the edge off before moving on.

The thought makes his stomach churn with jealousy so potent he has to physically swallow it back. Which … is not great, all things considered.

Tilting your head back with the lightest touch beneath your chin, Carlos studies your soft features searchingly. Perhaps if he stares hard enough, he’ll find some hint of deception or shallowness there. Some glaring evidence that this insane sense of yearning he feels is all one-sided — a misguided obsession brought on by the sort of euphoric sex one can never quite recapture once the high fades. He could use that as his cue to bow out now while you’re still tangled up together so prettily.

But even as he looks, really looks, all Carlos sees is the serene picture of a thoroughly satisfied, openly contented woman. There’s no shuttered gaze or pinched expression betraying any darker thoughts and feelings. Just blissed-out joy written in every relaxed line of those lovely features.

Something in Carlos’ chest cracks wide open at the realization that this is real for you too. You’re not just some meaningless one-off fling, but a woman who seems to have had her entire world upended in the same way his has been over the span of one incredible night.

“Carlos?” You murmur then, voice husky and slurred with the remnants of sleep as your lashes flutter open. “What’s wrong, mon beau?”

Your endearment sends a shockwave of tenderness and want pulsing through him straight to the roots. Carlos shakes his head minutely, winding one hand into your hair to hold you steady so he can simply … bask in your presence for a while.

“Nothing’s wrong, princesa,” he assures you lowly, thumb stroking gently over the arch of your cheekbone. “I just woke up early and got a little lost in my head for a bit there, that’s all.”

That small, secret smile he’s rapidly becoming addicted to tugs at your lips as your eyes rove languidly over his face. Your hand comes up to rest over his thundering heartbeat with surprising tenderness.

“Well then allow me to bring you back to the present. Right here with me.”

Your tone has taken on that rich sultriness from last night that shoots straight to his groin. Before Carlos can so much as draw breath to respond, you’re rising up to seal your mouth over his in a searingly passionate kiss.

He groans instantly, every atom of his being tuned to your frequency in a way that’s swiftly becoming terrifyingly natural. Carlos’ hands roam hungrily over your naked curves of their own volition, relearning each dip and swell through the silken glide of skin on skin.

When you break apart at last, you’re both thoroughly breathless and aroused. Carlos splays one big hand over the small of your back and simply holds you flush against him, savoring the feeling of your racing heart thundering in tandem with his own. He brushes kiss-swollen lips along the line of your jaw, prompting a delicious shiver.

“Don’t think for one second that I’ve had even a fraction of my fill of you yet, cariño,” he rasps against the feverish skin just below your ear, using his free hand to tug your head back so he can access the soft column of your throat. “You’ve addicted me beyond any chance of recovery now.”

Your breath hitches as he latches his mouth just above your thundering pulse point and sucks a blatant mark. Carlos revels in the needy whimpers spilling from your lips with each pass of his tongue over the tender patch of skin. He needs to mark you, claim you, render you unmistakable as his in every possible way.

“Carlos ...” You keen, back arching like a drawn bow as he continues trailing open-mouthed kisses down the slope of your neck and over your collarbones. “What are you saying?”

He pulls back to meet your heavy-lidded gaze, searching intently for permission to continue with what he suspects you’re asking. And there it is — desire and hope and invitation burning brightly in your soulful eyes, practically begging him to put words to this singular thing blazing between you.

Cupping your face in both hands, Carlos holds your rapt stare as he slowly, reverently presses a soft, lingering kiss to your slightly parted lips. You melt into him, one hand coming up to clutch desperately at his bicep.

“I’m saying,” he murmurs against the plush give of your pretty mouth. “That I can’t simply let this be the end, princesa. Not anymore. Not after experiencing what it feels like to be so exquisitely connected with someone in every possible way.”

The smile you give him in answer is as incandescent and warm as a living flame. You don’t attempt to contain the rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. Instead, you simply wind your arms around Carlos’ neck and pull him down into a molten kiss that somehow manages to convey every single infinite feeling ricocheting between your bodies.

He suddenly feels so overwhelmingly lucky in that moment. Lucky to have crossed paths with you by happenstance. Lucky that, by some miracle, he didn’t allow bitterness or pain or preconceived notions to blind him to your kindness and warmth and inherent goodness despite how this whole crazy thing started in his mind.

Because yes, you are the daughter of the man who turned his life and career upside down. But here, pressed against you, Carlos can feel the truth resonating through his bones — you are so much more than any of that.

And for the first time in his life, Carlos cannot fathom the idea of anything frightening him away.

***

The frantic Melbourne nightlife whirls and pulsates around Carlos in a dizzying kaleidoscope of neon lights and pounding basslines. Normally he would revel in the thrum of energy and excess — drinking in the atmosphere and feeding off the infectious exhilaration. But tonight, seated alone in the VIP lounge of one of the city’s most exclusive clubs, he finds his attention utterly undivided.

You stand out like a siren among the raucous crowd, every tilt of your hips and toss of your hair captivating Carlos completely.

He tracks the line of your body shamelessly as you sway and twist to the driving beat, that tantalizing little red dress riding up to reveal glimpses of toned, silky thighs that make his mouth water. A fine sheen of sweat glistens enticingly along your collarbones and in the hollow of your throat, no doubt making your overheated skin taste like salted caramel.

The urge to slide up behind you and drag his tongue along that slender, tempting slope is damn near overwhelming. He can vividly picture himself molding his larger frame against your softly undulating form, one hand spanning possessively across your lower belly to grind the rapidly stiffening ridge of his arousal against the lush swell of your rear.

He imagines precisely how you would react — arching back against him with a shuddering gasp, fingers threading into his hair to tug his mouth down upon yours in a frantic, needy kiss. How you would whimper and writhe against him, uncaring of the very public surroundings as desire rapidly whited everything else out ...

Almost as if sensing the scorching path of Carlos’ thoughts, you glance over your shoulder and catch his eye from beneath the veil of your lashes. That sly, inviting little smile immediately kicks his pulse into overdrive and lights a slow bloom of liquid heat unfurling in his lower belly.

With a crooked finger and a subtle uptilt of your chin you summon him to your side. And like the hopeless fool he is, Carlos rises instantly and crosses the small distance to enfold you in his arms from behind.

“Having fun out here without me, cariño?” He murmurs in your ear, lips brushing the sensitive shell so he feels the full-body shiver that wracks through you.

You lean back into his embrace, all soft curves and intoxicating jasmine scent. “I’m always having fun when I’m with you, Mr. Race Winner,” you sigh as your fingers trail delicately down the solid line of his biceps. “Even if we’re just sitting around doing nothing.”

The words are simple — honest and unguarded in a way that makes Carlos’ heart seize in his chest. For two people who came together in a wild collision of lust and passion, it’s moments like these that continually remind him of how much deeper your connection truly runs. Far beyond mere physicality into some soul-binding and unbreakable place.

You must sense the shift in his energy because you turn in his arms, expression questioning but so openly caring it nearly steals Carlos’ breath away. Tenderly, you cup his jaw and search his eyes.

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, hmm?”

He shakes his head minutely, leaning down to brush his lips across your forehead before pulling you snug against his chest. You settle easily into the circle of his arms like that’s the most natural place in the world, cheek pillowed over his steadily thrumming heart.

“Nothing to worry about, princesa,” Carlos assures you gruffly, stroking soothing circles over the warm bare skin of your back. “Just feeling … lucky, I suppose. To have found someone like you.”

The words seem to catch you off guard and you pull back slightly to study his face, mouth curved in that secretive little smile that always makes Carlos’ stomach swoop.

“Well, I certainly feel the luckiest woman on Earth,” you tease lightly, booping his nose in a playful gesture that somehow serves to implant roots deep in Carlos’ soul rather than make him roll his eyes.

Instead, he just gazes at you for a long, weighted moment, allowing himself to simply bask in your presence. In the soft beauties that first drew him in — that delicate blush that finds its way across your nose and cheekbones, the little crinkles that bloom when your smile widens to that mega-watt, face-splitting beam, and those soulful eyes that never fail to pin Carlos helplessly in place.

Then there are the quieter, more intimate details he’s gradually uncovered the deeper he delves into your connection. The barely-there laugh lines at the corners of your eyes when you’re feeling particularly pleased about something. The trick of tugging on your lower lip with your teeth when you’re aroused and trying not to show it. The subtle furrow that appears between your brows when you’re concentrating intently on something.

Carlos knows them all now like geography he was born to navigate.

Without conscious thought, he smooths his thumbs over your jaw and guides you up into a slow, thorough kiss that has both your pulses kicking into overdrive. You whine quietly into his mouth, winding your arms around his neck and arching against him in ways that instantaneously have him hard and aching. But Carlos doesn’t give in to the heated urgency coursing through his bloodstream.

Instead, he keeps the languid glide of his lips over yours unhurried and leisurely — savoring the sensation of you pliant and receptive beneath his seduction. You seem to shake off your initial fervor as well, melting further into the molten drag of his mouth claiming yours over and over.

This too is a geography Carlos has long since mastered. The precise angle he needs to tilt his head to slot your bodies effortlessly flush together. The soft, mewling noises he can coax out of you with carefully applied suction to your plush lower lip. The tiny shudders when he swipes his tongue in long, slick caresses over the roof of your mouth.

You’re practically vibrating with restraint by the time he finally releases your mouth with an obscene, wet pop. Your lips are swollen and glistening, glistening with shared wanting. Carlos hums deep in his chest and brushes the pad of his thumb over the slick fullness reverently.

“So impatient, cariño,” he chides with a wolfish grin that has your nipples visibly peaking beneath the thin lace bodice. “You know that’s not what I had in mind for tonight.”

With an adorable little pout, you wind your arms around his neck once more. “And what, pray tell, did you have in mind?”

A dozen filthy scenarios immediately clamor for attention in Carlos’ head. Having you right here, up against the wall of this secluded VIP area. Bending you over the sleek lines of one of the low leather couches. Finding a shadowed alcove and sinking to his knees before you, nosing aside those delicate strips of lace to ...

He banishes each carnal thought before it can take root and produce visible effect. Tangling his fingers through the soft tresses at the nape of your neck, Carlos brings your foreheads together with a soft smile.

“I thought we might enjoy a moonlight stroll along the beach actually,” he murmurs, relishing the way your disappointed huff ruffles against his skin. “Just you and me under the stars, far away from the noise and crowds for a while.”

You regard him dubiously for a moment before seeming to melt at whatever expression Carlos doesn’t realize he’s allowed to show through. As always, you give in far too easily to his indulgent whims.

With a soft, fond roll of your eyes, you press up on your toes to drop a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Of course, mon amour. Just you and me under the stars.”

Twenty minutes later finds you ambling hand in hand down a pristine stretch of beach in the Middle Park suburb. The warm, salty breeze gusts gently over your skin, carrying traces of coconut sunscreen and the briny musk of the sea. Foamy waves lap invitingly against the silvered sands as Carlos steers you towards a small, isolated cove.

He procures a large woven blanket from his bag and unfurls it in a clear spot before tugging you down into the plush nest of fabric. You immediately gravitate into his space — curling against his side and tucking yourself beneath his arm like that’s where you were always meant to fit. For Carlos’ part, he cherishes the easy affection and careless intimacy of the simple gesture more than you’ll ever know.

You spend what could be minutes or hours like that — exchanging lazy kisses and sipping from a shared bottle of wine as the moon rises ever higher overhead. After a while, Carlos sprawls onto his back and you quickly drape yourself half-atop him so he can leisurely card his fingers through your windswept tresses.

The soft, steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear combined with the soothing sounds of the lapping tide soon have your eyelids drooping. Carlos has never felt so at peace — this sublime bubble with you the single point around which the rest of the universe spins, perfectly in balance.

“Hey,” you mumble against the warm, sleep-rumpled fabric of his shirt. “Aren’t you the one always saying we should be living in the present?”

He huffs a quiet laugh, stroking one hand down the dip of your spine to rest possessively at the base. “What brings that up all of a sudden?”

You shift enough to look up at him through your lashes, eyes molten with a familiar heat that shivers down Carlos’ spine.

“I’m just wondering what’s got you stuck in your head so often these days,” you counter smoothly, punctuating the observation by swinging one leg over his hips so you can settle atop him fully, careful not to disturb his still-tender stitches. “We’ve barely been able to share … intimate moments at all the last month or so.”

Carlos sucks in a sharp breath as your weight settles over the rapidly stiffening ridge of his arousal. His hands find your hips of their own volition, squeezing reflexively as you begin moving atop him in a slow, undulating rhythm.

“Perhaps I’ve been overtly romantic,” he allows through gritted teeth, letting his head thunk back against the blanket as desire rapidly thrums through his veins. “Missing out on more … physical expressions of passion just because I wanted to remind both of us that this is built on so much more than lust.”

You hum thoughtfully, sitting up fully and swaying atop him in a way that has Carlos rapidly losing his tenuous grasp on reality beyond this blissful patch of the world containing just the two of you. He’s fully hard and straining against the loose linen of his slacks within moments.

“Then maybe we should do something about that right now,” you breathe huskily, arching your back in an inhumanly graceful roll that leaves Carlos’ mouth dry as the Sahara. His hands track helplessly up the delicious curves of your waist, bunching the delicate material of your dress around your hips.

He sits up to meet you so suddenly your foreheads nearly crack together. You release a breathless giggle that Carlos hungrily swallows with his lips, trapping you in a searing kiss filled with all the smoldering hunger he’s been studiously keeping banked for weeks now.

Mindlessly, he chases the taste of you over and over — salty and sweet and everything he’s been desperately starving himself for. His fingers fumble at the tie closures along your ribs until the bodice finally falls away, baring your breasts to his gaze and seeking hands.

You gasp softly into the heated seal of his mouth when Carlos’ calloused palms close over your soft, pliant flesh. He cups and kneads with reverent, possessive strokes that have you quickly arching your chest further into his touch and throwing your head back on a wanton moan.

“Carlos ...” You breathe his name like a prayer, riding his lap with increasing urgency and bringing your mouths back together in a clash of teeth and tongues. Your fingers slide up beneath the hem of his shirt to map the shifting planes of his abdomen, nails raking over the taut, quivering muscles. “Don’t hold back with me any longer. Not tonight … need to feel all of you.”

A shudder wracks Carlos’ entire frame at your breathy plea. He knows you’re right, can feel that same desperate yearning driving you magnified inside himself. Every cell of his body is vibrating with the need to take you fully — heart, mind, and body aligning in euphoric harmony after so many weeks of well meaning denial.

Seizing your hips in a bruising grip, Carlos surges to his feet and simply holds you against him with easy strength. Your legs immediately wind around his waist as you giggle deliriously against his lips.

“Is this what you want, princesa?” He murmurs lowly, swaying subtly to grind his straining need over the lush juncture of your thighs in counterpoint. “For me to finally have my way with you the way we’ve both been craving?”

“Yes,” you hiss out through clenched teeth, back arching as Carlos nips and sucks a path down the slender column of your neck. “God, yes, Carlos. Will you just fuck me already? Here on the sand and beneath the open sky like something out of one of those romance novels you pretend not to love.”

The easy teasing breaks through whatever lingering threads of Carlos’ control were still intact and he growls low in his chest. In one deft motion, he divests you both of the rest of your clothes and spreads you out on the blanket before him in all your unabashed glory. His gaze tracks over your form hungrily, drinking in every dip and swell as you watch him with dark, wanting eyes.

“Princesa ...” Carlos breathes, gratified to see his own desire and reverent longing reflected back at him tenfold in your heated stare. “No more waiting, no more teasing.”

His meaning is clear even without the punctuation of sinking down to settle fully over your smaller form, blanketing you with his weight and forcing your thighs apart to cradle his hips. You immediately writhe beneath him, winding limber arms and legs around him in a vice grip that sears every point of contact between you.

“Carlos, mon cœur ...” You keen breathily into the scant space separating your lips, every word punched from you in counterpoint to the sensual roll of his hips grinding his arousal through your slick folds. “Please. I need you. Need to feel you all around me again after so long.”

He crushes his mouth to yours in answer, tongue instantly delving deep to taste the exquisite velvet heat of you. You clutch him closer even as Carlos shifts his weight to one forearm so his other hand can roam freely over every inch of bare, pebbled skin he can reach. When his calloused palm finally finds your breast and gives a rough squeeze, you shudder and cry out into his waiting lips.

There’s no more waiting after that. Carlos sheaths himself in one powerful, purposeful thrust that buries him to the hilt and your gasp dissolves into a broken moan. He stills for the briefest of moments, just reveling in the unbearably tight clutch of your molten sheath, every nerve ending alight and thrumming. Then he slowly withdraws until just the swollen head remains inside before immediately surging forward once more.

Your nails score lines of liquid fire down his back at the first deep, dragging stroke. But Carlos barely notices the delicious sting. He’s utterly consumed by the feeling of finally being surrounded by you again — hot, snug, and so utterly perfect. Every sound and shudder and arch of your form against his own is like the sweetest plea washing over him.

He sets a demanding pace, relentlessly pounding into you from that first jarring thrust onward. The only sounds are your mingled cries and the wet, obscene smack of flesh on flesh echoing out over the lapping ocean waves. Carlos wants to make sure there’s no doubt in your mind how much he’s craved every inch of you.

“There’s my good girl,” he rasps hotly against the bullet-hard peak of your nipple before laving it soothingly with his tongue. You release a strangled cry, back bowing sharply off the blanket as you clench down on him in rippling, vice-like pulses. “Fuck … taking me just how you were made to. So damn perfect, cariño.”

Your garbled whimpers and keens of his name drive Carlos to new levels of feverish intensity with each hitching breath. He snakes an arm beneath your sweat-slick lower back to position your hips at a slightly higher angle, seating himself even more deeply inside.

Every purposeful thrust now grinds against that tender cluster of nerves in a way that quickly has your eyes rolling back. You go boneless and whimpering, allowing Carlos to manhandle and use your plaint and plush form in whatever way he craves.

Pressure rapidly mounts within Carlos like an incoming tidal wave as your inner walls begin fluttering around him in telltale pulses. He can feel his own imminent release building in tandem at the base of his spine, that familiar molten curl of pleasure threatening to crest.

“That’s it, princesa,” he grits out raggedly against the sweat-slick arch of your throat. He slides the hand not anchoring your hips down to toy with the engorged pearl at your apex — drawing out a stream of sobbing wails. “Take what’s yours. Fucking milk me with that greedy little cunt. You were made for this cock, made to be split open and ruined on it over and over until you’ve got no idea where you end and I begin.”

The filthy words seems to be your undoing. With a sobbing cry of Carlos’ name, you seize up — inner walls rippling and convulsing like they’re taking him for everything he’s worth. Carlos hardens his jaw and summons the last threads of his control to keep himself from shattering apart at the very first fluttering pulse.

As the shattering waves of your release gradually crest and ebb, Carlos chases them down with powerful thrusts designed to prolong and intensify every aftershock. You writhe and whimper beneath him in overstimulated pleasure, rapidly going boneless and sated.

That’s when he finally surrenders to the smoldering inferno in his belly, hips snapping forward in a few final, erratic strokes before Carlos throws back his head and allows his own orgasm to rip through him. White-hot euphoria explodes across every nerve ending as he empties himself in heavy, throbbing pulses deep inside your spasming core.

“Ah fuck … just like that, cariño,” he rasps out hoarsely, grinding himself as deeply inside you as physically possible and simply shuddering through each exquisite contraction. “Taking every last fucking drop of me right where you were made for it ...”

Utterly spent, Carlos collapses forward with the last dregs of his stamina — just barely managing to catch himself on shaking forearms so he doesn’t crush you beneath his weight. You immediately latch onto him, peppering his flushed face with sweet kisses.

For several long moments, you simply hold each other through the aftershocks, chests heaving and bodies trembling. Carlos has never felt more peaceful or completely at ease in his entire life. His every sense is utterly surrounded and suffused by you in the most blissful of ways.

When his lashes finally flutter open, the first thing he sees is your adoring smile glowing up at him in the moonlight. It nearly steals what little breath remains in his lungs.

“Hi,” you murmur shyly. Carlos huffs out a breathless chuckle and tugs you even closer until your overwarm bodies are aligned from navel to sternum.

“Hi yourself, princesa,” he replies, just as softly against your lips before sinking into another deep, leisurely kiss that tastes equal parts salt and sex and forever.

When you part again, your eyes are sparkling with so much uncomplicated happiness that Carlos nearly melts into a useless puddle on the spot. He’s drowning and he’s never felt more gloriously unmoored.

“I love you, y’know? Like … down to the depths of my soul,” your fingers trail over the sharp jaw and cheekbones you now know better than your own.

The words should terrify Carlos with their intensity and implication. Instead, they simply roll through him in a cresting wave of overwhelming tenderness and clarity.

Of course he loves you. How could he not, when his existence now seems to revolve around your presence as the only fixed point in a dizzying orbit?

So rather than balk or deflect or shove those emotions back down, Carlos allows every infinite but of love and adoration and soul-deep need to shine through unfettered. He cradles your face between his palms and simply stares, committing every minuscule detail of this moment to memory before leaning down to brush his lips over yours in the sweetest, most loaded caress.

“I love you too, princesa,” he murmurs the words directly into your mouth like a sacrament. “With every fiber of my being. You are my everything.”

You tug him down into a heated, clinging embrace, holding him like you never intend to let go.

And at last, Carlos knows without a shadow of doubt that he never will either

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maraudersmyloves · 28 days

Note

i’m a slut for the “he says something bad about someone else but you think it’s about you” trope.

soooo, do you think you could write something like that with james. and like he doesn’t know why you seem to be mad at him and why you’re kinda pulling away.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Pairing: James potter x reader

Warnings: cursing, some angst

Word count: 745

Disclaimer 1: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!!

Disclaimer 2: A part two is planned and currently being written but I wanted to get this out quickly so I hope you understand that I broke it up into two parts

Sypnosis: You overhear the marauders talking and assume it's about you, causing you to distance yourself from a perplexed James.

"Distance". :☆｡ﾟ. ────

part two

you jump down the stairs to the common room, following the familiar voice of your boyfriend. He's laughing with the other marauders and you are about to join them on the couches when Sirius groans in annoyance, "She's just always clinging to you, mate. It's annoying."

You freeze as you watch James' face screw up in embarrassment. He sighs and lets his head fall back while covering his eyes, "I know but I feel bad. She doesn't really have anyone else."

Your mind races trying to find excuses. Maybe he's talking about someone else. But, who? You don't know all of his Friends it could be anyone. But the description fits, doesn't it? Clingy? Desperate? He's always hugging and kissing you, no way he doesn't want you to do the same. He just feels bad.

You feel hot tears hit your cheek and quickly turn around to run back to your dorm. Before you can drone them out completely, you hear Peter pipe up. "I know, but she's started to hang out with me too. It's getting a lot and I tried to be nice but she talks so much."

Oh.

Even Peter hates you.

You didn't think Sirius liked you anyway and of course James hurt but Peter? He was so nice and accepting of your quiet nature, gardening, and playing chess with you. You misinterpreted it all wrong, once again.

All around you, students are talking and playing stupid games. Now, that it's gotten warmer every fucking student felt the need to hang out outside. But can you really judge when you're doing the same?

Yes!! Because you're not screaming and jumping around with your oh-so-great friend group. You're just sitting under a tree trying to read. The sun is glaring on the page, the wind is blowing your hair in your face and 49 different people are talking way too loud around you.

It's fucking annoying and now James is approaching too. Fucking traitor. He lets himself fall down next to you, spreading out his Limbs to take up as much space as he possibly can. He stays that way for a few seconds before he shifts to lie next to you. "hey, love." You ignore him and the way your skin tingles when he shifts closer to gain some skin contact.

He pouts when you don't answer, expecting you to be focused on the book. In reality, you haven't been able to focus and read a single word for at least ten minutes. He pokes your cheek in a way you'd usually find cute, but now it only makes your mind clouded with questions. Why is he doing this?

He sighs when you still don't give him the attention he craves, "Watcha reading," he asks stretching out the last word in a sweet song-like tone. "A book," you answer flatly before abruptly standing up.

He looks up at you with something you could only describe as puppy eyes and asks where you're going as if you hurt him deeply. "My dorm," you answer. It's short without any explanations or elaborations.

You turn around to leave, not seeing James' hurt look. He quickly jumps up again to follow you, grabbing you by the arm. "Where are you going," he questions with his eyebrows creased in worry and lips tight together.

You gently pull away your arm, not wanting to seem too angry with him. It's not his fault you're so annoying. "I just want to be alone right now," you say quietly. You can't bear to meet his dark and desperate eyes, he looks too sad. You know better that to believe it.

James takes a step back, wanting to respect your boundaries even if the lost proximity makes him want to tear off his skin. "Oh, okay."

"Sorry."

James flops down onto his bed with a groan. He bangs his head against the pillow a few times, too. For good measure. What did he do? Did he make you uncomfortable? Merlin, he hopes he didn't.

Maybe you stopped loving him and felt too bad to tell him. No, no, no. He can't think about that for long or he'll start crying. What did he do to lose you? Then again, he never deserved you in the first place. Not your kind eyes or lovely smile. You represented love, so why would you need his when you've got plenty oozing out of you at all times.

You're perfect and he lost you.

#headcanon #writing #fluff #fanfic #harry potter #marauders #marauders era #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #james potter headcanon #james potter fanfiction #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #harry potter marauders #the marauders

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violetarks · 4 months

Text

"they don't love me like you do!"

anime: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru

summary: despite the countless valentines day offers he receives, satoru will only ever accept one confession. but you're confessing... to his best friend?

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, high school! au

"please accept these chocolates, gojo!" says the girl in front of him. satoru casually pulls down his glasses enough to see the red, heart-shaped cardboard box.

"oh, uh... thank you." he awkwardly says. this girl was two year below him, judging by the colours of her indoor shoes. he didn't even know her name. "this is... a surprise."

"i've liked you ever since orientation day. i hope you like these." she says with a nervous grin. she's stiff as he takes them out of her hands, standing up straight to stare at the tall man. "thank you for always being so funny and helping everyone you can."

"ah, you're welcome." he says, tucking the chocolates and the letter taped to it under his arm. luckily, the lunch bell had rung and everyone should've been off to enjoy their break. "well, i'll... see you around."

"b—bye, gojo!" she calls, waving at him as he walks the other way. he gives a kind smile before he turns the corner, dropping it immediately.

on the way to class, multiple other students watched him as he carelessly skimmed through the letter before stuffing it in his book bag, ready to throw it (and the others) away once home. valentines day was this week and it was two days before it today. yet satoru had received tons of confession letters and date proposals, none of which he had the intention of accepting.

plopping down in his chair, he groans, hanging his head, "ugh! i hate being so loveable..."

suguru rolls his eyes, outting his book down. "here we go again." he grunts, shaking his head.

"seriously! why can't i be left alone around valentines day?" he questions out lout, pulling his lunch box from his bag.

shoko bites into her sandwich as she listens to him. as she swallows, she retorts, "maybe it's because you flirt with every living being on earth." satoru sends him a pointed look. "so how many letters today?"

"seven." satoru responds, knocking his bag.

"and?"

"none of them were from y/n." he sighs out, picking up his chopsticks.

"wait, y/n?" suguru pipes up, putting his juicebox down, "as in y/n from class d?"

the blue-eyed boy raises a brow, halting his movements. "uh, yeah? l/n y/n." he recalls to his friend, tilting his head, "what? i've been talking about 'em for the past three months—suguru, have you been listening to me at all?"

"oh!" the dark-haired boy chuckles, nodding his head, "i know y/n. we're in the same literature class."

satoru stares at him in disbelief. the other students surrounding them are in their own little world, but the three of them didn't even mind them hearing if they tried. shoko continues to eat her food while suguru shrugs at his friend.

"are you kidding me?" satoru gasps out, waving a hand in the air, "i've been trying to get with them for three months and you tell me this just now?"

"you should've been more specific, man." suguru retorts, waving it off, "anyway, you gonna' ask them to be your valentine?"

satoru sighs loudly, hanging his head back, "i don't know... we only share bio together, i bet there's a lot of people who have asked them to be their valentine. they probably won't even accept mine."

shoko purses her lips and stretches her arms. "i don't know about that." she claims, "you're a pretty guy and everyone knows you. i doubt they'd pass up the chance to revel in that popularity."

"... thanks, shoko."

soon enough, the bell rings and the day goes on.

the next day, satoru notices something in your hand during biology class.

"whatchu' got there, y/n?" he asks, peaking over your shoulder. he sat behind you, enough room to see the handwritten letter you were writing.

"satoru!" you jump a little, covering the page. he furrows his brow. "it's, uh... i'm just writng something."

"is it... for valentines day tomorrow?" he inquires, curious to who was the lucky person. but you were still hiding it from him!

"no, of course not." you were lying, he could tell by the way you look to the left. a pout falls on his lips. "it's notes. for another class."

"oh... okay." he responds, a bit disappointed. why would you lie to him? he sits back in his chair, writing down some paragraphs from the textbook mindlessly. he saw the way your elbow quickly shifted, you were writing faster. your head was down too, never looking up. you were so concentrated.

he's known you for a couple of months now. you bumped into him on the way to school, and you admitted to him that you were a bit lost since you didn't live around here. satoru, being the gentleman he is, offered to escort you. you thought he was some creep (he tried reaching to hold your hand and when you jerked away on instinct, he played it off as it being the wind).

but once realising you two shared some classes together, you grew fond of him. you knew of the countless students throwing themselves at him. both older and younger. he was the school heartthrob. it's a shame though, only your smile could make his heart race like he makes others do.

when you gave him your lucky pen when he told you he didn't study and he was freaking out, you had this kind smile that made him think 'i don't want anyone else to see this but me'.

and he noticed that you awkwardly took it back from him, looking away as he clasped your hands tightly in the filled hallway and thanked you. your reactions were just the cutest...

when the bell rings, you perk up, putting your 'notes' in a suspicious looking envelope and signing it off with something. you stand up and satoru is quick to walk by your side when a classmates holds his arm to talk.

"huh?" satoru grunts, furrowed brows.

"gojo, i... i wanted to give you this." they say, holding out a teddy-bear saying 'be my valentine!'. satoru frowned when he took it. "you don't have to answer today... just let me know tomorrow, please."

as they continue to talk, he sees you exit the classroom. the letter sits comfortably in your palm, and you look left, right, before walking off. satoru is electrified.

"okay, thanks!" he says, running out of the classroom while he clutches the bear in his hands.

weaving through the crowd, he looks for the top of your head. after more and more people pass him, staring at the teddy and whispering 'who gave that to him this time?', he spots you turning the corner, a nervous look on your face. he mutters out apologies as he bumps into people heading to their next class.

the hallway you're in now is empty. you stand in front of a classroom door, waiting. notably, suguru's math class.

satoru stands at the end of the corridor, behind the corner, as the classroom door opens to reveal his best friend, geto suguru.

"suguru!" you call, smile. your shoulders are straightened, you hold the letter in front of you. not scared to show him...

"oh, y/n, hey." he responds, grinning as well. the comfortability around you two was so strange to see. "what's up?"

satoru feels like he's buzzing out. he can't hear everything you're saying, but you look a bit excited yet anxious. he hears your sweet voice speak to his best friend with such kindness that he's jealous. sure, suguru was attactive and nice and he definitely didn't feed into the popularity like satoru did, but...

why did it have to be you who was interested in him?

"please, take this." you say, handing him the same letter you had before. except this time, satoru sees the 'g.s' on it. 'geto suguru'. and you take out a box of his favourite snacks to hand to him. "thank you for everything, again. you're the best."

suguru takes it with ease, seeing how you looked at him. his gaze softens as he takes the treat as well. "you're welcome, y/n. anything you need, i'll help with." he puts the letter in his own bag before slinging am arm around your shoulders. "now, what're your plans for after?"

he was blatantly asking you out now! right after satoru told him he had feelings for you! such betrayal!

you two walk to the other end of the hallway, in the direction of your literature class. satoru slumps against the wall, furrowed brows and lips pressed into a thin line. after a second, he pushes his glasses up and lets out a slow exhale. he could get over this...

"gojo! may i please have a moment of your time?"

"wait no! me first!"

"gojo, can i talk to you?"

"please accept these!"

or maybe he couldn't.

valentines day was today and you danced into school with such confidence. you had a bouquet of flowers in your arms, chocolates of the sweetest kinds, and a bag of new perfume that you knew your crush would like.

you were so excited.

satoru, who was walking a few people behind you, was not.

he saw the amount of passion you put into the holiday, and it made him sick to know it was for his best friend. the guys was in such a bad mood, he ignored suguru and shoko's calls this morning to meet up and walk to school together like usual.

satoru clicked his tongue, thinking about how dramatic the whole valentines day idea was. really, who needed it all anyway?

in homeroom, he can hear your class (which is next to his, across the hall) start whooping and cheering when you walk in. and he knows it's you by the chants of your last name being heard. he sits in his chair in anguish.

"satoru, morning. finally." shoko says, sitting down as well. she grins, bitting the popsicle stick between her lips. "where are all of your valentines presents?"

"stuffed in my shoe locker and under my desk." he claimed, opening the top of it to showcase the blaring red and pink gifts. she picked at one pocky box, munching on the biscuits. "how about you?"

"i got a couple letters and cookies in my locker." she claims, shrugging her shoulders, "lots of 'em are from the badminton team. i don't know why."

satoru shrugs as well as soon as suguru sits down in front of him. the blue-eyed students scoffs, looking away.

"good morning, satoru." he says, noticing his friend's behaviour, "what's got his panties in a twist this morning? does he know we called him a hundred times?"

"i dunno'." shoko says, looking out the window to the school garden. "ask him."

"satoru, what's wrong? didn't get enough presents this year?" he teases, leaning in his chair to poke his head, "wake up late?"

but satoru angrily swats his hand away. the raven-haire boy blinks curiously before satoru glares at him. "why didn't you tell me you were interested in y/n?" he asks, hurt.

shoko looks back to the two boys, seeing suguru just as confused as she is. "you're into y/n?"

"what? no! who said that?" suguru retorts, hands up in defense, "i'm not interested in dating y/n, swear on my life."

"that's a lie!" satoru accuses, pointing a finger against his friend's nose, "shoko, i saw him and y/n all... all... familiar yesterday after period 2! he had his arm around them!"

"suguru..." shoko warns.

"wait wait, that's—you got it all wrong." suguru groans, now understanding. he digs through his bag and pulls out a piece of paper. "here. open it."

satoru pushes away the paper reading 'g.s'. "no way! i'm not reading y/n's love letter to you!"

"ugh! just open it!" suguru grunts, shoving it onto his desk.

satoru begrudgingly takes it and gently opens the letter, not wanting to rip it. once his eyes fall upon the page, he confirms that it's your handwriting.

'thank you for being the sweetest boy to me. i am truly honoured to know such a beautiful person, inside and out.'

satoru wants to barf.

'sitting near you in biology really helped me to understand you, satoru. you're not only a pretty face, but a world-class sweet tooth, a sucker for romantic cliches and a cologne-collector.'

satoru thinks this is the most beautiful thing he's ever read.

he contiues to read, expression changing, letting shoko and suguru understand his thoughts. the girl looks to the other boy, who shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes.

"i'm confused." shoko states, tilting her head.

"y/n isn't confessing to me, they're confessing—"

"y/n is confessing to me! me, satoru!" satoru exclaims, waving the letter around like a maniac. everyone else in the class was suddenly a listener, peaking at the trio. they were interested in finding out what the one confession that resulted in this reaction was. "oh my god, oh my god!"

suguru nods his head. placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "yes, yes, they are. i was meant to give you the letter this morning to read before homeroom, but someone was pissy." he scoffs, shaking his head, "so i had to go and tell y/n that plans had changed."

"you... helped y/n plan this all out?" satoru mumbles, "but you didn't even know!"

shoko chuckles, staring out the window again.

"i just said i wasn't paying attention so you didn't think i was snooping. which i was. and i only told you i knew y/n so you wouldn't get any ideas, like this." suguru circles the air with his finger, deadpanning at the clueless satoru, "you think anyone would do this without definitive proof the other person liked them?"

satoru continues to read the letter you wrote for him before his eyes land on the ending. "'please meet me at the school fountain before homeroom ends.'" he murmurs out, blinking, "suguru—"

"you were meant to go two minutes ago." his friend sings out, standing in front of shoko's desk. he points out the window, much like other students were doing in their own classrooms. "you should..."

when his friends turn around to him, satoru is already one foot out of the door. he's rushing downstairs (down three flights of stairs, actually) with your letter clutched in his hand. he almost flies into a couple teachers on the way to the garden, only for their attention to be caught by students opening the windows and pointing outside.

when he rushed through the doors to the garden, you're staring at the floor, still holding the flowers and gifts you brought to school with you. taking a moment to gather himself, satoru runs fingers through his hair and fixes his glasses. the pair you've complimented a thousand times.

satoru walks closer to you and when he catches your eye, you stand up straight and smile.

"satoru." you chime, not missing the thousand pairs of eyes that were following your every move. "good morning. happy valentines day."

you hold out the flowers to him. it's set in a nice box, and the treats are in a gift bag. when you give it to him, your smile is awkward but hopeful.

"happy valentines day, y/n." he replies, taking it from you. he sits down on the fountain edge, and you follow along. "i'm so sorry, i... i don't have anything for you."

"no, no, no." you retort, grinning, "it's fine. this was a surprise for you, anyway."

he sighs, "no, i'm sorry... please, let me make it up to you."

you laugh a little, placing a hand over his on his lap. the flowers were sat on the fountain with his gifts. "sure thing." you retort, "hey, suguru told me that this morning—"

"i'm sorry, i know, i just thought..." he begins, cutting you off. he looks embarrassed, heavy blush falling over his cheeks. "i saw you and suguru yesterday and you gave him that letter. had me thinkin' you were confessing to him instead of me."

you let out a small chuckle, making him gulp, "oh my goodness, i'm sorry, i didn't mean for you to see that. we were trying to be sneaky."

satoru's chest feels lighter, and he feels better just hearing it from you. he links his fingers with yours, facing you fully.

"ah, no it's fine." he tells you, the most purest form of adoration in his eyes that you can see from the top of his slanted down glasses. you grin softly. "listen, i have had a crush on you for months... and i was hoping that you'd go out with me. i want a chance to get to know you personally, away from any prying eyes."

you peer to the side, seeing the people watching you. they were practically hanging out the window, waving their hands and fighting to view the whole scene for themselves. cameras took photos and videos, capturing your moment with him.

"i'd love that, satoru." you say, scanning his face, "you're the best."

it only takes him a single second to reach his hand out and brush his thumb agaisnt your cheek. you don't freeze up though, only relaxing into him. he was the most inviting guy you've ever met.

"can i kiss you?" he asks, voice unwavering. his blue eyes are staring at your face with such kindness that it cannot be described.

you don't even say anything, only leaaning forward and pressing your lips to his. he's smiling against your lips, gentle hand caressing your cheek. your eyes flutter shut, holding his hand tightly.

cheers erupt from the school. screams and whoops from guys and girls alike. most students are heartbroken due to the obvious confession. nobody had even gotten that close to satoru. no one has been able to hold his hand, let alone get him to go crazy over a letter. you got him to race out of that classroom like a madman, and everyone was surely surprised.

the shouts die down as the kiss deescalates, many of the students sighing as they're forced to move on from the heart-throb gojo satoru.

when you pull away, satoru chases, leaving a gentle kiss against your forehead. your smile is wide and you pinch his cheek softly.

"you're such a drama queen, satoru." you say, standing up, "i was wondering why everyone started yelling and staring at me all of a sudden."

satoru stands with his presents, rubbing the back of his neck as he holds your hand. h goes to answer when a voice is heard from the fourth floor.

"the idiot took some convincing, y/n!" suguru shouts, waving his hand, "glad to know he's got some sense in him!"

"shut up, suguru!" satoru calls back, showing his fist.

"first period is about to start, you two!" the principle says through a window on the third floor, "this is all heart-warming, but you've failed two of ms kinoshita's classes, gojo!"

"r—right!" he retorts, pacing to the school entrance as people begin to 'ooh' at him. he looks back at you, smiling the brightest. "let's go out after school today, yeah? i'll buy you as many sweets as you want."

you chuckle, kissing his cheek, "my hero."

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

1K notes · View notes

bunnyhugs77 · 11 months

Text

City Seven

Pairing: Jungkook x Waitress! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Content Warning: reader is kind of unfiltered, judgy! reader, quiet! jungkook, pierced! jungkook, inspired by the seven mv, judging a book by its cover, obessed! jungkook, ft jimin, reader eats her words, jungkook is a little cocky.

Other Content

Jungkook is filthy and a little mean, big dick! jungkook, dom! jungkook, strength kink, unprotected sex (don’t even), jungkook has a high sex drive, brat tamer! jungkook?, hair pulling.

»»————-　★　————-««

“Y/n!” Laura practically shouts your name as she walked into the bustling kitchen where you collected three main courses, balancing two on your palms and the last one on your forearm.

You’d become pretty competent as a waitress after being one for the last three years, balancing the meals and listening to Laura was an easy feat. “What?” You lean in to hear her clearly as the sound of clanging pots and yelled orders were swirling in the air.

“Let me take this table from you, serve table 4.” Your brows furrowed as you felt Laura help herself to take the plates from you. “W-what are you doing?” You stop her from taking the last plate from you, curious to know what she was up to.

“Just trust me. They ordered two old fashions, now go!” She says as if she was bursting with anticipation. You let her take the last plate from you, a little disappointed because the family you were serving seemed like they were going to leave a good tip but you trusted Laura. Sort of.

Once you got hold of the two alcoholic beverages you leaned into the swinging door with your hip and walked through heading to table 4, and once you spotted Jimin sitting there you knew something was up.

“Two old fashions.” You smile, placing them down gently while making sure nothing spilled. You put Jimin’s down first and for the first time made eye contact with the unfamiliar brunette.

He smiles at you. “Y/n, this is my friend, Jungkook.” You smile back to be polite. “It’s nice to meet you.” Your expression showed kindness but in your heart, you were more than ready to kill Laura.

She was always trying to hook you up with someone while on the job. Either way, he wasn’t really your type, he seems too quiet and soft-spoken. Your type was the kind of guy that was more outgoing and could take control.

Before you could ask the two what they wanted to order you felt a light grip on your bicep tugging you away near the bathrooms. “Laura! What are you doing? I’m trying to do my job.” You weren’t sure if you had said those words out loud based on the way she completely disregarded your words and replaced them with her own.

“He’s cute right?” She inquires and your brows furrow almost immediately at her jumpiness. “Who?” You were playing dumb and it was obvious.

Laura deadpans. “You know who I’m talking about. Jungkook, obviously. He’s cute right?” Her smile creeps its way back onto her face as she speaks but you back away from her leaning against the wall that you had no idea Jungkook was listening through.

“I mean, yeah sure but he looks too..” Jungkook’s brow raises as he waited for you to find the words. “nice.” You finish. “He looks like he’s a nice guy, y’know? The kind that holds the door and cries when he comes.” Both his and Laura’s jaws drop in astonishment. “I can’t believe you just said that.” Laura covers her mouth giggling with a snort but she soon starts to pout.

“You really don’t think he’s cute?” She asks again and you groan. Laura was insufferable, she just did not know when to give up. “I never said that. Maybe in the country, he’s a 10, but here, he’s a city 7 at best.” Jungkook had heard enough and made his way back to his seat.

Never in his entire life had he been ranked anything below a 10, he’s even scored a few 12s but a city 7? How could you? He knew he was a 10. He deserves a 10. Not to mention your little comment about him crying when he comes; he was going to make sure you ate your words.

He made sure to lay it on thick for the rest of the night. Dark stares and suggestive comments, so much so that Jimin had to excuse himself twice just to give you both privacy.

Whether you wanted to admit it or not this city 7 was starting to grow on you. He had a sarcastic sense of humour paired with an enchanting smile. You supposed you could give him a chance.

One chance was all he needed.

3 weeks and two dates later the two of you found yourselves stumbling into your apartment, with Jungkook kissing you desperately as you both kicked your shoes off and he shrugged off his jacket all while you led him to the bedroom but you paused in your steps at the revelation of his sleeve of tattoos.

you had no idea these were hiding beneath his denim jackets and turtlenecks. if you’d known about the tattoos and the bulging muscles that were covered up so well, you never would’ve called him a 7. He’s a total 10, and he was about to prove it to you.

“W-wha-” you loosely pointed your finger to his muscular physique as he worked on undoing his belt. he grins wickedly as he glances up, relishing in the victorious feeling of seeing you go awestruck at the sight of his body.

he steps towards you slowly, the branded waistband of his boxers peeking over his jeans. “what? never seen a few tattoos before?” he smiles in that same pleasing way he always does and it irks you, because you know he knows what he’s doing.

all this time you’ve been underestimating him. “what-- when, how- “ he gently cups your face and whispers against your lips, “You ask too many questions.” that was the last thing you heard before his lips were on yours again.

The kiss was unlike any of the tender and sweet ones from before. this one was hungry, messy and bordering animalistic. The way his tongue worked with yours in an erotic harmony made you forget all about your presumptions of him when you first met him. he may be quiet but he most certainly wasn’t shy, especially not now.

he laid you down on the bed and he kissed all over your body. abusing your sweet spot that was below your ear. the sounds of your heavy breathing that slowly but surely morphed into breathy moans were only inflating his ego. if he could get you this desperate just from his mouth he knew he could absolutely ruin you with his cock.

for you on the other hand the last 45 minutes seem to have been a blur. One minute you and jungkook were out at the bar listening to the jazz band fill the room with an undeniably sensual ambience. you were feeling a bit bold and let your heel run up the inseam of his pants under the table.

and he’d warned you to stop since you were in public but you were in a defiant mood and continued anyways. pressing down his cock with the tip of your stilettos watching his accessorized fist ball up the tablecloth in an attempt to bite back his groan. within seconds you felt his grip around your ankle and push your foot down before abruptly standing up.

not without discreetly adjusting himself in his slacks but of course you noticed it. “Get up. We’re leaving.” he orders but you pouted, “but I wanted to listen to the music.” The look he gave you was like none other he’d seen before. you were used to pushing his buttons, it was just in your nature to piss him off but he usually didn’t care much or if he did he didn’t show it.

“Now.” you roll your eyes and followed him out of the bar.

It's thanks to your previous behaviour that jungkook had decided to edge you twice on his fingers and tongue. you were squirming and insufferable forcing him to pin your thighs down with his arms as he continued to eat you out like a man starved.

“ju-jungkook! please-” you begged, refusing to look at the man between your legs, staring up at the tear-blurred ceiling instead. “Please what? What do you want?” He’s an evil man for asking you such a question and cutting you off with the works of his tongue once again leading you to scream out.

you sounded like sin, wrapped in a body that was clearly shaped by the gods above and gifted to him personally. “let me cum--please!” He pulls away from you right when he felt you were on the edge again, pushing down on your legs as he felt you begin to thrash around.

“stay still princess, or I won’t let you cum.” the name was doing you wonders and you swore you could see stars. “please, I’ve been good.” and jungkook just has to laugh, because what a fucking liar you are. “Really? Do you think teasing me out in public is being good? Why should I let you cum hm? Aren’t I just a City 7? Only 10′s can make you cum right?”

your eyes shot open wide and for the first time you looked down at him in shock, “y-you heard me-” he didn’t give you the chance to respond before he was abusing your clit with his tongue bringing you over the edge so quickly your body could hardly process it. you came with the scream of his name.

“Look who’s crying when they cum.” he mocks you, throwing your own words back in your face.

Without a break, you were being manhandled and flipped over onto your stomach as he dragged you to the edge of the bed. your back arching at the intrusion of the swollen head of his cock pushing between your folds. jungkook had to brace himself as he thrust inside your soaked cunt.

a deep groan falls from his lips at the feeling he’d been searching for for weeks. He’s dreamt about this moment for weeks, way before you even knew who he was. When he’d seen pictures of you and Jimin at Laura’s place he knew he had to have you.

“ooh fuck!” you moan once jungkook bottomed out, you hadn’t realized just how thick he was until you felt his cock split you open all around “yeah, you like that?” You nod repeatedly, unable to speak. Your arms were feeling weak and soon your head was flush against your pillows.

“Answer me, baby.” he grunts, punctuating his demands with a particularly powerful snap of his hips. one that sent the fat of your ass rippling with each thrust. “yes! fuck! I love it, love your cock, please don’t stop.” you whine loudly taking everything he gave you.

That only encouraged him to absolutely drill into your poor pussy, the sounds of your bare flesh slapping against one another ricocheted off the walls and back into your ears. you had no idea what you’d gotten yourself into with him. you felt yourself inching closer and closer to that ecstasy, you were so close you could taste and jungkook could most certainly feel it.

the way your walls convulsed around him nearly restricting his range of motion, “Ah shit baby, you feel so fucking good.” he groans next to your ear, the tone of his voice sending you into shock. god you were so close, but jungkook was slowing down. “why-”

“you wanna cum?” he asks you, and you nod as if you were on autopilot. “please,” you beg for the nth time. “Then take it back.” you really tried your best to understand what he was referring to. “Take back what you said about me being a city 7” you hesitated for a minute, regaining enough strength to hold yourself up again, fighting between your bratty nature and your throbbing pussy.

“Okay fine, you can get yourself off.” he shrugs, beginning to pull out but you push your hips back up against his pelvis. “No- no!” he grins at the sound of your objections, resuming his wild pace as though he had never stopped.

he pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail, his erratic thrusts never faltering as he did so, “Say it.” he growls in your ear and your eyes roll back as you felt his cock rub against a certain spot within you, “I take it back! You’re a 10, everything about you is a 10, you’re a 10- fuck! please let me cum!” he smiles, satisfied with your words.

“Cum.” you didn’t hold back, you came down with a piercing moan that you’re sure your neighbours would be complaining about tomorrow morning, jungkook following closely behind you.

Initially, you’d thought you and Jungkook’s little night would be a one-time thing but he just couldn’t seem to stay away from you, no matter how hard he tried.

His dick begged to see you again, and he made sure he did.

At Jimin’s birthday party, he had you bent over the bathroom counter, he would come over and fuck you against the wall, holding you up steady as ever as he pounded into you. Every second of every day he found a way to be inside you.

That’s how you found yourself tangled up in his sheets the morning after one of the filthiest nights you’d ever experienced with a guy. “Good morning,” you heard Jungkook whisper in the rasp of his morning voice as he kissed your collarbones. Slowly making his way up your neck, “Jungkook, aren’t you tired?”

He shrugs with a foolish grin, “Why would I be? I’ll never get tired of fucking your brains out.” You laugh, “Really? Never?” He shakes his head.

“Seven days a week.”

3K notes · View notes

craisinsensation1029 · 2 months

Text

Snuggle Bug

Toji Fushiguro

AO3 :)

just toji being soft and domestic, thats it ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

~2k

SFW but minors still shoo

It isn't hard to make assumptions about Toji with just one look.

With his imposing frame riddled with pounds of muscles, enough scars to rival any war hero, and an expression that screams I don’t tolerate nonsense, ever on his face, most people steer clear of him.

There isn’t much merit in thinking so, but so many easily peg him as a douche, an asshole, a womanizer—someone that probably has the worst opinion on anything ever.

While Toji has definitely judged more than one book by their cover, only sparing something a glance for no longer than a second before deciding whether or not it would be worth his time, he’s more than happy he was a book you were willing to read.

He still remembers having to build up the courage to ask you out on a date.

Every week he would treat Megumi to a few new books, and low and behold on a calm Sunday afternoon the sweet old manager was showing you the ropes on the cash register.

He was enchanted by your smile, the natural grace that you had, the zest for life that you conveyed just through your love of reading. At first it was innocent, Toji being just as excited as Megumi for the weekly trip to the bookstore, flying to the children’s section to see if you had any exciting news on any new releases. There was even the time where you decided to do an impromptu story time just for Megumi because it was a slow day.

After that, Toji had to admit that he did get a bit more greedy, making more frequent trips to the bookstore and flashing you a crooked smile when you would look for the bite sized version of him. “Just me,” he’d laugh, hoping that crimson wasn’t painting his cheeks.

When people say expect the unexpected you always thought it was referring to something completely drastic, like seeing actual pigs fly or winning the lottery. Not seeing this big, burly man scratching the back of his neck and blushing while he waited for you to say something, but you couldn’t complain. You simply smiled at him and said, “Well you can read at a higher level than Megumi, right? Let me show you some other books.”

As the weeks went by, Toji was spending more time (and money—but you did give him your employee discount out of the kindness of your shining heart) at the bookstore, whether or not he had Megumi with him.

“I put something else in the bag.” A cheeky smile that he couldn’t quite decipher was on your face as you pushed his purchase toward him.

He thanked you and was fighting every single urge not to pounce on the bag the moment he stepped out the door. The bit of self control he was able to maintain allowed him to wait until he got to the car, seeing a slip with your number scrawled on it right on top of the books he just bought.

He never felt nervous about making a phone call before that night, but every bit of tension eased from his body when your bright cadence filled his ears over the speaker.

Soon the two of you were texting good morning and good night here and there, the occasional how is your day going. It was far from that though. After a few weeks you were moving on to talking about new shipments of books, mentions of family, future plans. It became routine for both of you to talk on the phone nightly. Even if it was a day that he visited the bookstore, the true cherry on top of the cake was drifting off to sleep with the sound of your voice in his ears.

It only seemed natural for him to ask you out and make you his.

Being with Toji provides you with comfort and security not even money can buy. No one dares to cat call you with Toji by your side.

There’s something just so entertaining about seeing one of the people you adore the most making others cower in fear with just a simple glance, like having a big, vicious dog that growls at everyone in public but snuggles up to you in private.

And when it comes to snuggling, Toji is well versed in that department.

See, he doesn’t really believe in personal space; he can never be too close to you.

If you’re washing dishes in the kitchen, his arms are wrapping around your waist, bending his head so it's resting in the crook of neck, sighing contentedly as he breathes in your scent.

Sitting on the couch? He’s scooching as close as possible next to you, entwining his fingers with yours, not even looking at whatever is on the television. He damn near crawled in your lap a few times, arguing that it was much more comfortable for him despite your legs screaming in protest.

He doesn’t even care if you’re in the shower, sitting on the toilet seat and waiting until you finish. His go to is usually getting in the shower with you, withstanding the boiling hot water you somehow consider an appropriate temperature. He had to build up his tolerance, feeling like his skin was going to melt off his body if he stayed there longer than five minutes. This would only make you laugh and say, “Toji, stop torturing yourself. I’ll be out soon.” He’d just grunt and give you that pouty face that makes you dab a kiss to his nose.

If you’re taking a bath, he used to drag a chair out from the dining room, but ended up buying a cozy bean bag just to make himself more comfortable and accompany you.

Much like a big dog though, Toji’s spatial awareness seems to be a bit... Lacking.

He doesn’t mean it, you know he doesn’t, but there are times when you swear he is trying to decimate you with the weight of his body.

Especially nights like tonight when he’s coming home late from work.

Megumi already ate the dinner you made and has been fully entertained by a movie you watched together. Once you made sure he was snuggled in bed with his two favorite stuffed animals, the only thing left to do is wait for Toji to get home.

His job can be pretty unpredictable, leaving him coming home at late hours when the only thing he wants to do is be by your side, feeling the softness and the heat of your body while he closes his eyes and melds into you.

His stomach is rumbling, screaming for sustenance. When he walks through the door he knows there’s going to be a plate of food already made for him, just waiting to be heated up, but eating is far from being the first thing on his mind.

Instead he cracks open Megumi’s door first, a small smile forming on his face when he sees his little form tucked in, arms wrapped around those stuffed dogs while his chest gently rises and falls. He closes the door behind him, making the few steps to the bedroom that he shares with you.

It was obvious you tried your best to stay up and wait for him, indicative by the bedside lamp still being on and the book laying facedown on your lap. Though your thrown back head, the bit of drool leaking from the side of your mouth, and soft snores coming from your body shows your efforts were unfortunately in vain.

This just adds to the smile on his face, silently slinking back out of the room so he can eat and take a shower. You’re still blissfully asleep once he emerges from his shower. He carefully opens the dresser, opting for just a pair of boxer briefs.

He turns off the bedside light and carefully secures the place in your book with the bookmark you left next to you on the bed.

Despite his attempts at being gentle, the bed always creaks beneath his weight when he gets on it. The sound isn’t quite enough to wake you, only stirring a bit in your sleep.

With himself securely in the bed he moves in closer calling your name gently. Still, you only stir, murmuring out something unintelligible while your head turns to the side slightly.

He takes the opportunity to lay his head on your chest, listening to the soft beating of your heart while his fingers are drumming lightly against your stomach. The feeling always makes him melt, indulging in every pliant dip and curve of your body, the velvety texture of your skin such a contrast to the calluses and roughness of his own.

It isn’t long before his hands are exploring, moving down to caress the swell of your hips and making their way back up to feel the dip in your waist. All the while his head stays on your chest, as if his skull is a sword that will do anything imaginable to defend your heart.

He stays like this for a while, the thumping of your heart serving as his own personal white noise, the sensation of your skin beneath his touch alleviating all the stress of work.

“Mmm,” you groan, slowly opening your eyes only to be greeted by darkness and consumed by heat. “Toji.”

At the sound of your voice he slowly opens his eyes, immediately pulling you closer to him and panting a slew of kisses on your cheek. “You were sleeping when I got in,” he murmurs against your cheek, plopping another kiss there. “Didn’t want to wake you up.”

You’re not sure what time you fell asleep, but tap the screen on your phone, squinting at the harshness of its brightness. It’s a bit past four in the morning now, rain beating down gently against the windows.

“Like you’ve cared about waking me up before,” you laugh gently, playfully rolling over to escape both his hold and the slobbery kisses he insists on planting on you.

“Come here.” A fit of giggles leaves your lips as you continue rolling over, just out of reach every time he tries to wrap his arm around you again. He lets you have it for a few more moments, letting you tire yourself until you’re completely breathless with laughter. Like a tiger waiting to strike he ambushes you, caging your body between his arms and letting his weight settle on top of you.

“Toji!” You try your best to contain your squeal knowing Megumi is sleeping just beyond the thin walls.

“What?” His voice is muffled as his head takes refuge in the crook of your neck, his lips pressing softly against the sensitive skin there. He feels your pulse quicken every time his lips brush against your skin. “I missed you.”

No matter how many jokes you make about canceling his gym membership or making sure he never has another protein shake again you wouldn’t trade the feeling of this for anything. One hand rubs small circles into his back while the other snakes around to the nape of his neck. He nuzzles further into your neck, humming with satisfaction when your fingers thread through hair and delicately massage his scalp.

“I missed you, too.” He doesn’t say anything, but you feel the curve of his lips against your neck as his arms maneuver beneath you, cradling your body tight.

The warmth of his embrace quickly lulls you back into a state of unconsciousness, only willing for the serenity to end when you wake up, ready to appreciate him with bright eyes, marking another day together.

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fluff #jjk fluff #domestic fluff #ebs writes

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burstinn · 7 months

Note

brother, brother. since you wrote the one for the very tall male reader, up to do one about a short guy who’s built as a bulk? champ’ll be like 5’6 but able to lift a man Ghost’s size

the guys teasing him about it but then he just challenges them and BOOM super strength

slight nsfw if possible, please, it’s 03:42am and I don’t want blue balls :(

dk mate just a thought, sorry for bothering

SHORT READER, STRONG AS FUCK THO-

((Headcanons))

People mentioned: Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alex, Farah, Rudy, Alejandro.

Warning: slight nsfw that's it, I got lazy with Farah bbg Farah and Ale and Rudy.. AUGHH

Note:Readers height is not mentioned.. So just think of reader just shorter than the boys.

And this is only for the 141 team and associates hcs

No Kortac but will be adding the Mexican special forces I.e Alejandro, ++++

Hope you don't mind-

You have trained hard though you were shorter than most of your colleagues you were just as strong as them maybe even more.

Which caught the attention of the wild renowned John Price. When he saw you with your team during a mission and watched how you worked well, you could get into small spaces and could take out just as much men.

You were swift and efficient at your job and when he offered you to work for 141, you spent no time to think and immediately agreed.. I mean like YOU in the 141?!? With the high leagues?!? You wouldn't even pass up the chance!

PRICE

-Already impressed when he first saw you, he swiftly went to speak too laswell about you.

-Not to say she wasn't impressed as well though

-So you got an offer on the spot after your mission. But Price did give you time to think about it

-When you said yes he simply nodded his head an said "Can't wait to have you be part of the team"

-He gave you time to change your mind, pack up, say goodbye to your former teammates and superiors before hopping on the heli and flying off to your new team. Excited and nervous.

-When you hopped off the Heli a hop in your step as you approach the highly revered team. Price immediately walks up beside you patting you in your back and pushing you forward.

-Happily letting you introduce yourself.

- He knows how strong you can be he's just waiting for you to finally show your potential so the team can see why he let you join the team

GHOST

-He immediately frowned under his mask.. There's no way.. Well it's not that he's very judgy with recruits... But.. Goddamn you were short.. Hell shorter than Gaz.

-But he shook off those thoughts there must be a real good reason Price chose you.

-And he won't doubt his captains choice.

- Don't judge a book by its cover or something

- When you got around base, meeting everyone getting comfortable. He comfortable with you as well you're a neat guy.

- Though when it came to training. He saw how you worked.. Like shit you broke the punching bag for fucks sake. No one was expecting that not really, so now Ghost's got really interested in seeing you train.

- When people asked you and Ghost to spar with each other he is hesitant. I mean look at you and look at him. You breaking the punching was not expected yes, but people break shit all the time.

- Thinks he could easily beat you. Worst case he would probably break something of you

- You actually seem to encourage him to fight with you until he says yes.

- Eventually said yes and quickly tried to take you down before you roll under him and lift the fuck out him and throwing him.

- face under mask went like 😨😦😐🤨

- Yoo? Tried to tackle you fails miserably now your on top of him. Sitting down on his neck cuz 😏😏 Your holding his hands on top of his head too BECAUSE RAAAAAAA

- " You're going easy on me lieutenant.."

- Going easy on you huh? YOU WANNA KNOW WHERE ELSE HE WON'T GO EASY ON YOU?!?

GWHWBWBSNSJWAAAHAHAHAHA.

SOAP

-He furrows his brow, eyes really wide when he saw you.

-Then as if there was no more other thought in his head.. He just walked up to you and picked you up.. Like a cat.

-Earning him a smack on his head from Price then Ghost. He puts you down after that. Saying a short sorry.

-He gave you a small smile. Though small doubts trickled in his thoughts. He brushed it off. You looked cute anyway not like he would pass up another cute guy that atleast won't hide their face 😒😒. Ehem ehem..

-So when you got comfortable around base he swiftly started chatting you up. Pleasantly having a nice conversation as always with you.

- He likes picking you up like a cat

- when you can't reach something, he'd pull you up to his shoulders so you can reach it

- Gets infatuated with you.. Thinks you're so cute.

- Height Jokes

- When you called him over to see how you pull up weights. Putting fucking 4 HEAVY ASS weights on each side. And you FUCKING LIFT IT

- He got so hard it's unbelievable.

GAZ

- Oh.. Uh?

- 🤨

- He thinks you're cool.. Non chalant about your height.

- He would bully you sometimes.. But it's all no harm.

-Height Jokes

- Would keep stuff out of your reach he thinks its funny, except for the part where you kicked him straight in the balls.

- One day he did that again keeping something out of your reach dangling it over your head..

-You suddenly picked him up. It made him scream and he waddled in your arms and fell off.

- Falling in his ass. HOW DID YOU CARRY HIM? LOOK AT YOU!! HOW'D YOU DO THAT??

- He opened his mouth to idk.. Scold you. Asked you how you carried him..

- Then he shut himself up when you carried him princess wedding style and moving him while looking down at your stuff finding wherever he fell your stuff.

- Blushing hee hee a little princess being carried

- You eventually set him down and he silently walked away

- Would do it again more frequently.. He just wants to be carried wedding style again.

ALEX KELLER

- Huh? 🤨

- Confuckled

- Talked to Price about you.. Asking questions then finally confirmed that you are part of 141

- Thinks of you like a small lost child sometimes

- If he sees you walking around base has to do a double take then remembers it's you.

- You're short he sometimes forgets to look down too see you. It's not like you're that short.. It's just he keeps his head up since the team is yknow... Tall.. Well taller than you.

- one day he got mad because " you weren't there" when he was looking for you.. Even though you were literally near him.

- So you reached over and grabbed his collar to pull him down. He got shocked and tried to pull away..

- But goddamn you were holding his collar like a fuckin' champ.

- Blood immediately pumps to his face.. And pumps somewhere down there YK YKKKK! ! ! WAAHAHAHAHHA

FARAH

-Bro is an inch taller than her

- Side eyes you for a moment before nodding her head to herself.. She knows you're strong but she still judging you tho

- Calls you gay.

- Plays with your cheeks.. Stress reliever face cheeks. You're the easiest to reach anyway

- She did nun wrong to you really.. She just saw how you beat everyones asses literally

- like?? Huuh?

- Wants to be like you too. Small but strong asfuck

- Not like she's not like that anyway

- Strong woman real real

- Slay

- Just gives you a small smile everytime she sees you.. Just impressed..

ALEJANDRO

- Thinks you look like a child. Even asked about if you were a child.

- Also doesn't see you sometimes.. Especially when there are other taller people in the room probably covering you from his line of vision.

- Spanish word for small, tiny, mini, short, Gremlin... Yeah..

- If he's upset with you and you get the fucking balls to turn your body away from him. Hell if you even think to walk away

- He grabs you by the back of your shirt/ collar. And turns you to face him. Close so you can see how upset he is by you.

- You even dare to give him a scowl.. Oh my god.. He'd either want to slam you on the floor or wall. Maybe scream in Spanish on you.

- May or may not still be angry with you. Or he let's you run off because he doesn't want to deal with you.

- ..... (make up sex..)

RUDY

- Treats you like a child even though he knows you aren't

- Asks you if you're okay if you even graze a shoulder, would put a hand on your head and ruffles it

- Also Spanish nickname for small... Bla bla bla

- Sometimes he picks you up and carries you around on his shoulder. Even with your protests, telling him how it's so damn embarrassing.

- it is but he don't care.. He thinks it's funny.

- Then if you turn the tables spinning him around with your legs. And flipping him over making him hit his head on the floor.

- Audible groan.. And looks at you like 😧🙁☹️

-Why'd you do that? ☹️☹️ kinda face

- Then Wait how'd you do that? 🤨🤨 face

- Now you show him your amazing ass Strength even though you're small asfuck

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2knightt · 1 month

Note

HII!! could you write the gang with a reader that has an rbf and seems really intimidating/unapproachable but is a sweetheart? they arent very talkative and seem very cold but their love language is acts of service/gift giving & sorta quality time?? <33

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ pretty as a vine, sweet as a grape. ⋄ 𓍯

…REQUESTED: you never judge a book by it’s cover. especially when it comes to y/n!

tags/warnings: people being judgy asf/spreading rumours, gang defending reader with their soul, reader is a softie i fear, reader is kinda shy, probably stupid:3c, steve threatening a manLMFAO

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ READER IS SO ME CODED HELLO also if two-bits part sounds stupid it ‘s because i’m high rn and even if can admit it’s a little iffy

—

dallas winston

thought of you as someone to be threatened by at first ngl

he heard of this scary, mean mugged, tuff looking girl and went ‘mh. an enemy🐺😒’

he went up to you one day, acting all tuff and shit just for you to look him up and down and nervously wave

look, he may not be the smartest cookie but he can see someone shy a mile away. and when he seen you wave, he felt like such an ass LMFAO

did he show it? no. obviously.

this is dallas. he’s an asshole.

“little miss tough girl, huh?”

“…pardon?”

that teasing from him DID continue until you walked away because dallas is the type to never back down, even when he’s wrong

expect for the next time you met him!!!!

he was actually asking you your name, where you’re from, etc, etc!!!

turning a new leaf dare i say…

and everything after that was history! cutest scary looking couple ever!

HE THINKS IT’S SOOO FUNNY THAT PEOPLE ARE SCARED OF YOU LMFAOOO

he plays into it sm if someone brings it up bro

“y/n? like..scary y/n?”

“yeah, like scary y/n. and i’ll get ‘er on ya if you keep talkin’ ‘bout her.”

“oh!😰”

he thinks it’s so silly to see you look really pissed off when he isn’t around just to greet you and see your whole demeanour change!!

dallas thinks it’s so cute😭 it’s like one of his favourite things about you!

“😠😒”

“hey, baby.”

“oh! hi, dal!<3”

LMFAO IMAGINE SOMEONE SEEING YOU, A MEAN LOOKING GIRL, SHOPPING FOR MENS LEATHER JACKETS

yuppp spoil that dickhead!😫 he lovelovelovesss getting gifts, ESPECIALLY from u!!!

if you’re clingy, i feel like he wouldn’t mind it. he teases THE FUCK out of u tho!😊

“big tough girl wants to hold hands, eh?”

“…yea😞.”

“awh, look at ya. come ‘ere.”

johnny cade

you might think he’d be scared and intimidated, right? but NO! he’s literally bff’s with ponyboy, he knows damn well what rbf is!

you two are sooo cute together

little kicked, scared puppy with his feral doberman!!!

tells people to stfu whenever they try and spread rumours that you’re scary, mean, and rude.

“you’re dating y/n? don’t you know she-“

“i don’t care, shut up. ‘s not like you know her😒.”

sometimes refuses your gifts.

johnny’s not used to them :( but all u gotta do is say please and flutter your lashes and u got em!!!!

“i can’t take it.”

“please?😞”

“…okay😣.”

and he DOES NOT regret it! he might fight you at first, but he cherishes those gifts with his life<3!

loveloveloveLOVESSS having u around constantly!! since your love language is quality time, you two are always hanging out together.

and, with your scary looks, you often keep the socs away from him!

hip-hip, hooray‼️‼️

the gang was like…worried for johnny at first.

THEY DIDN’T KNOW U WERE COOL THO😭😭💔💔💔

they were all like, “??seriously, johnny?? you pick the meanest girl?? ever???” and johnny was QUICK to defend. “y’all ain’t even meet her, and you’re already sayin’ she’s bad for me?”

when they did though, they were like ‘ohhhh….she really isn’t rude…..oh….’

HE’S SO PROUD TO DATE U THO LMFAOOO

and to know the real you?? treats it like an HONOUR

ponyboy curtis

was intimidated by you.

forgot he was also like you and accidentally glares at people who walk past him LMFAOOOO

You two are like two peas in a pod istg!!

“you look mean from far away,”

“???so do you, pony??”

“…no??”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘NO’?”

mean looking couple who are truly just a bunch of nerds deep down to their soul<3

the gang was a little protective of ponyboy until they realized ur just like him LMFAO

They get having an rbf<3

pony loves spending time with you!

gift him a book and he’ll love you forever!!! (maybe even read it to you when you two are finally alone to help you fall asleep🤍)

he’s such a cutie…..

stays close to you in public because he thinks you’re scarier looking than anyone he’s ever met😊😊.

“cm’ere,”

“why?🤨”

“BECAUSE🙄!”

SCARY DOG Y/N IS REAL.

glares at anyone who goes around telling people that you’re mean and rude.

if looks could kill, they’d be dead already!!!

ponyboy does not fuck around with u i fear.

Sodapop Curtis

LMFAOOO GREEK GOD OF A MAN WITH HIS PISSED OFF GF WHO IS NERVOUSLY HOLDING HIS HAND !!!

he was NOT afraid of you!! in fact, he thought the rumours of you being an asshole were all fake

“you talkin’ about y/n?”

“yes, bro! they’re so rude-“

“how do you know?”

“well, i don’t-“

“so, shut up?😒”

cuz like??? did they not bother to understand you???

soda literally made it his mission to prove that you weren’t a dick!!😭😭

and GODDAMN HE WAS SO RIGHT

you’re such a sweetheart to soda! he lovesss telling people about how cute you are around him since it’s his own way to squash the rumours.

“my y/n is so sweet, you wouldn’t get it.”

“isn’t she the same girl who beat the soc to a pulp?”

“she can barely kill a fly.”

you don’t need to do much to scare off the girls that flirt with him at the DX, just a nice little glare every now and then and they’re already gone!

(soda doesn’t have to know that you play into the rumours sometimes. it’s our little secret.)

steve randle

HATES EVERYONE WHO TALKS ABOUT YOU

he’s petty AS FUCK LMFAOOO

they can’t handle the randle😜💯

“ew, y/n-“

“MAN, GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY FACE WITH THAT WHAT DO YOUUU KNOW ABOUT Y/N🗣️‼️”

that was an over exaggeration but you get the point.

gets very defensive when people try and ‘warn’ him about you lmfao

gift him a tool box and he’ll use it until it’s literally falling apart at the bolts<3

no seriously. it could be holding on by one screw and he’ll still use it. he doesn’t gaf. steve will use anything u give him.

he accepts ur rbf cause he thinks it’s SO FUNNY?? like he’ll see you far away with your friends looking all angry before one of them says a really funny joke and just watches your expression change so quickly

one of his fav things ever<3!

two-bit mathews

he makes so much jokes about it LMFAOOO

“jesus, y/n! you sure yer glare ain’t the thing that killed the dinosaurs?”

—

“swear i see the devil in yours eyes sometimes. it looks soooo good on you, though🤭🤭”

HE THINKS ITS SO ATTRACTIVE

and he lovesss your sweetheart side sm it’s like he gets best of both worlds

RAHH GIFT TWO-BIT MICKEY PLUSHIE OR ELSE

He’d totally have it on his bed 24/7. his sister has tried to steal it before to scare him btw.

skmetimes just to spend time together with him—you just go walking around town with him while he has an arm around your shoulder the whole time<3

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #steve randle x reader #darry curtis x reader #two-bit mathews x reader #two-bit x reader

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cloudcountry · 1 year

Text

kiss me more (book six spoilers)

SUMMARY: Vil wonders why the Prefect has been avoiding him lately, only to find that the answer is very interesting.

CHARACTER: Vil Schoenheit.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: who else freaked the fuck out when vil kissed their cheek in game? i am raising my hand. i was so freaked out that i had to brain dump and now this exists. vil stans come eat.

~~~~~

Vil doesn’t quite understand what’s gotten into the Prefect ever since they returned from Styx. Whenever he is in their general vicinity, they make a run for it with a panicked look on their face. It’s starting to get irritating, because he can’t even confront behavior with how good they’ve gotten at avoiding him.

And so he hunts them down. They’re almost certainly at Ramshackle at this hour, and if this is what it takes for them to give him the explanation he wants, he will corner them on their own turf.

Vil knocks on the door and receives a quiet “I’m coming!” from inside. Footsteps follow, and when he hears the door unlocking he braces for their inevitable escape attempt.

Attempt, because they aren’t getting away again.

The second the door opens, he catches it with his hand. He doesn't force himself in, he’s not a brute. He just stands there and watches their expression shift from panic to guilt.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asks, voice level and calm, “Have I done something to offend you?”

“Um-! I mean, no…” they murmur, looking anywhere but him, “You’re better off just not knowing, okay? I’m sorry-”

“I want to know.” he says, unrelenting as he narrows his eyes at them.

“I…It’s so embarrassing-! Please don’t laugh at me, okay?” they cover their face with their hands as they speak, and he hears the whispery scream that follows.

“Why in Twisted Wonderland would I laugh at you?” he shakes his head and sighs, “I’m not here to judge you. I just want an explanation.”

“I can’t stop thinking about what you did at Tartarus!” they blurt out, “Every time I think about you kissing my cheek I die! I can’t be around you after that, I would fumble and trip all over myself and be a nuisance! It would be embarrassing!”

Vil stands in shock as they cover their face again, clearly flustered beyond belief. Oh, this is so entertaining. He really should be kinder, but he has half a mind to tease them right now.

He shouldn’t.

But he does.

“Oh, is that right?” he chuckles, reaching out and peeling their hands away from their very warm face, “If you wanted another one, all you had to do was ask.”

“W…What?!” they shriek, hands trembling fiercely in his gentle grasp, “What are you talking about?! You can’t just-!”

“Oh, but I can. Will you allow me?” he hums, letting go of their hands in order to cup their face, “It would be a pleasure.”

“I…I…I…” their mouth moves but no words come out, and Vil can’t help but think they’re just downright adorable right now.

He tilts their head and leans in, giving them the room they need to pull away if this is not what they want.

They don’t move.

He holds them reverently as he presses a kiss to their cheek, letting it linger before he pulls away. He can practically feel how warm their face is from his teasing, and it fills him with a smug satisfaction. Who else could make them this speechless?

“What was that for?!” they shriek, frantically waving their hands around their neck and face, “You-! You can’t just do that-!”

“I do hope you’ll stop ignoring me now.” Vil smiles smugly as he stares at them adoringly.

They’re still babbling, attempting to regain their thought process, but he knows they understand.

And if not, he’ll just have to teach them again.

#auburn's fics <3 #drabbles <3 #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst x reader #twst x reader #twst vil x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit fluff #vil schoenheit x reader

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catharusustulatus · 7 months

Text

Steddie Drabble, TW: child abuse.

Initially, Wayne doesn’t care for Steve. Calls him “the Harrington boy” or “Richard’s son” with contempt, asks if “Richard’s son” is coming over for dinner again and Eddie just rolls his eyes and says “yes, Wayne, STEVE is coming over at 7.” Wayne doesn’t like him because…well, he’s not stupid to judge a book by its cover, he thinks.

But the fifth time Harrington comes over, he brings a bouquet of flowers, and Eddie, well, his cheeks are redder than the spaghetti sauce Wayne’s been stirring, so that’s something.

And then the sixth time Steve comes over, he brings Wayne a Garfield magnet. It’s small, “found it at the thrifty mart with Robin, I’m sorry it’s not brand new…” Steve mumbles, and Eddie is wide eyed and smiling, and Wayne LOVES Garfield. He puts it on the fridge, pats Steve on the back, says “um, thank you son.”

They fall into a pattern, the three of them. Steve comes over for dinner every Friday night after work. He dresses clean and is polite to Wayne, helps with the dishes, sometimes brings bread rolls or licorice or beer or jokes. Eddie starts setting the table. Wayne starts laughing at the jokes. After Steve leaves, Wayne knows Eddie smiles himself to sleep. It’s different, now.

And then the next time Steve is supposed to come over for dinner, he doesn’t show. Eddie had been making macaroni and cheese all evening, grating the cheese carefully as he bopped his head to some metal song, cheerful, and then it was 7 and then it was 8 and then Wayne thought “maybe call him, Ed.”

Nobody answers. When they call again, nobody answers. And Wayne has a bad feeling about it.

It isn’t until almost 11, dinner cold and Eddie pacing, about to radio someone named Robin when Steve’s car pulls up, they know the lights so well. They run outside to greet him and Eddie freezes when Steve starts falling out of the drivers seat, face dark and pained. Wayne jumps into action. Wayne catches Steve and hauls him into the trailer, his living room, and oh god, he’s covered in bruises like he was put through Eddie’s cheese grater, and oh god, Eddie’s broken out into tears behind him.

Steve’s left eye is swollen shut, and his face is purple and bloody. His lip is split and his hair is wild, his shirt is torn, and Wayne wonders what’s underneath the shirt as he gets the first aid kit, wonders how the hell he thought Steven was anything other than an angel.

Eddie gets a dish towel wet in the kitchen and cleans Steve’s face, quiet and crying, and Wayne sets the first aid kit down next to Eddie and makes some coffee. He thinks about talking, doesn’t. Touches the Garfield magnet for good luck. He feels like maybe Steve needs it.

Steve who is holding Eddie’s wrist as he cleans him up, wincing and crying from his good eye. Finally, after a silence that gives Wayne heartburn, Eddie sits back on his heels and says whisper quiet, “your dad?”

Steve gulps, blinks. “My uh, my dad. I was writing you uh, uh a love note.” Eddie looks over at Wayne. Wayne wipes his brow. “But uh, he found it, and your name’s not uh, Edith” Steve lets out a chuff, winces again. “So he asked what was going on, and I told him. I told him. And then he said I had one minute to take it back or he’d make me take it back.” Eddie lets out a small gasp, more like a howl, and sits completely on the floor. Wayne sits down at the table, cold mac and cheese looking like a sick joke. And he’s so mad. Wayne is so, so mad, seeing this young man who so obviously loves his pride and joy, shares in his pride and joy, who brings him apples to make apple pie, he growls out

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Steven, not one thing. You stay here long as you like, hell, don’t leave. We got you, boy.”

And that’s that. Steve crumples in on himself, and Eddie pulls him into a big hug, just holds him, rocks him, coos “a love note, huh, sweetheart? For me?” And Steve nods until he nods off.

The next morning, while Robin takes care of Steve, Wayne and Eddie break into Steve’s room, clear out everything he owns, and slash his dad’s tires. That was Wayne’s idea - the least he could do for a loved one.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #wayne munson #I just am obsessed with Wayne being like who is this snotty rich kids oops I adopted him #Wayne and Steve forever #also Steve gives me huge scared of my dad vibes #so I just feel like if he came out he’d be beat up #tw: abuse #but I also think that if Steve was hurt #Wayne and Eddie would be like oh yeah? death to you #anyway idk #I just love them your honor

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borathae · 25 days

Text

Galaxies

"You and he create galaxies when you are together."

Pairing: Witch!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Comfort Smut, Slice of Life Fluff

Warnings: Domish switch!Yoongi, subby switch!Reader, they're actual soulmates, their connection is so deep i'm in pain, love making, having to stay quiet, some flirty bickering because it's them, a short sexy fight about Dominance, oral (both receiving), handjob, pussy fingering, eye contact & hand holding, lots of kissing, he eats her pussy in multiple ways, and worships her breasts, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), creampie, slight strength kink but make it magical, cowgirl position morphing into lotus position, dirty talk but make it romantic with a pinch of sexy, something magical happens between them, cuddles & snuggles & giggles for aftercare, they're so in love i'm gonna cry

Wordcount: 8k

a/n: i always thought that i couldn't get any more obsessed with them and then i introduced witch!yoongi x witch!reader and i actually became INSANE for them like i'm in pain they're meant for each other 😭💜

《 Bonus Smut to this 》

Yoongi is under the covers, reading, when you enter the room. He looks at you and looks away instantly, doing a terrible job at hiding the widening of his eyes. A flush of his cheeks follows.

“Are you being shy because I’m in my towel?” you ask him in a chuckle.

“I’m not shy”, he defends himself, staring into his book obsessively.

“You’re so silly sometimes”, you say and drop the towel to change into your pyjamas instead.

Yoongi doesn’t look at you directly even once, but tries to sneak one hidden glance from the corner of his eyes.

“I saw that”, you tease him for it.

“I didn’t do anything. Whatever, good night”, he babbles and slams the book closed, proceeding to lie down on his side with his back facing you.

He makes you laugh. He is so effortlessly funny.

“Gosh, you silly you. What’s the matter?” you coo, bending down to hug him.

He has his eyes closed and lips pulled into a thin line, almost as if he is trying really hard not to look.

You snicker, pecking his cheek.

“I love your silly bum” you say, giving his butt a soft slap as you straighten back up.

Yoongi grumbles something unintelligible.

You bring the towel into the bathroom to dry and get two glasses of water from downstairs. Your grandparents have gone to sleep already, Taehyung and Jungkook seem to have come home as well, judging by the painting equipment on the dining table. They are nowhere to be found, however their jackets are missing. They must be outside. You could look for them, but quite frankly and with no ill intent, you don’t want to. You want to go back to Yoongi and tease him some more.

The man of your hour is back to reading.

“I’ve got water”, you announce yourself, placing the glasses on the bedside table.

“Mmh.”

You climb onto Yoongi’s lap, staying there for a little until he finally looks at you over the edge of his book. He cocks his right brow up in question.

“Boop”, you say, poking the tip of his nose with your finger.

He blinks rapidly, moving his head back like a cat surprised about being touched. He even ogles your finger, going a little cross eyed for it.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the most boopable nose ever?”

“What?”

“Boop”, you do it again, forcing Yoongi to show off his double chin from how aggressively he tries to ogle your finger.

“What are you doing?” his voice is distorted from the position.

“Has no one booped your nose before?”

“What? No?”

“Boop.”

“What is that? Why are you doing this?” he sounds so adorably stressed about the unfamiliar affection.

You have to laugh, cradling his cheeks to pull him in for a kiss on the nose.

“You’re so fucking adorable, gosh you”, you say, biting his nose softly before giving it a second kiss.

You sit back, sliding your hands to his chest. His pulse is a little raised. Cute.

“It’s affection. It’s nice. When you boop someone it means that they’re being playful with you and that they think a part of you is especially cute”, you explain and poke his nose, “boop.”

“Okay?” he tilts his head to the side, lifting his right hand to poke your nose, “boop?”

“Yes, exactly, but you have to raise your pitch as you do it. Like this. Boop.”

“Boop”, he barely raises his pitch.

You giggle, leaning into his touch. His eyes soften, he lets out a breathy chuckle, poking your nose again.

“Boop”, his voice was perfectly pitched.

“This was perfect”, you exclaim, wiggling on his lap because he makes you so giddy.

“Okay, if you say so”, he says in a chuckle, looking back into his book with a slight shake of his head. He is smiling to himself.

“Oh Yoongi”, you say, rolling off of him to drop into the pillow. You stretch your arms from yourself, tracing his outer thigh like this.

You have luminescent stars on your ceiling. When you were little, you always counted them until you fell asleep. You find yourself doing it again, except that you can’t seem to get sleepy enough. You are a little droopy, but definitely not sleepy. Yoongi finished a chapter in the time you counted the glowing stars, now finding himself in the middle of the next chapter when you roll to your side beside him.

You are under the covers, having them pulled up all the way to your ears.

Yoongi notices your eyes on him and looks down. You are gazing at him as if he was the brightest star in this room, giving him a cute toothless smile the moment your eyes meet.

“Should I turn off the lights?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“I counted the stars a hundred times”, you tell him.

“You did?”

“Yeah”, your smile grows, the sparkle in your eyes does as well.

Yoongi feels his pulse speed up just a little.

“I like looking at you”, you say, showing him your teeth in a grin.

Yoongi is melting. You are so adorable.

He brushes the back of his hand down your cheek. You accept the affection with closed eyes.

“You’re beautiful”, he says softly, looking back into his book.

He tries to pull his hand back, but you stop him with a small “no”.

He studies you curiously. You are turning your back to him, wiggling it out of the blanket.

“Can I have scratches?”

Yoongi begins to scratch your back wordlessly, holding the book with his other hand and using his thumb to flip the page. He’s got the hand size for it.

You like this so much. Back scratches are the best thing ever. They are so tingly and relaxing. Yoongi never stays at one place for too long, touching whatever inch he could reach and alternating between different patterns. He also switches between using his fingertips and using his nails, adding such amazing sensations to the innocent affection.

You are significantly sleepier when Yoongi’s arm grows tired and he has to take a short break by scratching your scalp instead. You showed him how he could do it best in order not to tug on your hair or damage it and he is doing it exactly like that, using a little bit of pressure because you like it.

You visibly melt into the touch, inching closer to him until your butt touches his leg. You let out a little sound of comfort, nodding your head.

Yoongi looks at you, lowering the book for a moment. Something inside him shifts into the right place, granting him access to his sweetest realization.

He is actually taken.

He has someone who sees him worthy to date.

He makes someone feel safe in his presence, safe enough that she loves him.

He can be gentle and soft and tender. He can make someone feel good.

He isn’t alone anymore, holy fuck, he is actually taken.

This is his reality.

Yoongi places the book aside to spoon you instead, putting his arms around you so he can pull you against his chest. He buries his nose in your neck, giving you a soft squeeze.

You giggle, snuggling into him instantly.

“My princess”, he whispers.

“Your heart is racing so much.”

“I’m happy.”

“I’m happy too, my love.”

“Mhm my princess”, he lets out in a breath, following it up with a kiss to your cheek.

“Tickles”, you snicker.

He chuckles with you, wrestling you gently until you are on your back and he can kiss every inch of your face. You accept it with a racing heart and butterflies in your stomach. The day must have been really, really amazing for Yoongi because you have never witnessed him so affectionate before. Quite frankly, it drives you mad in the fluffiest of ways.

Yoongi ends his love attack with a big smooch to your lips.

“Mwuah”, he lets out, scrunching his nose, “that was affection too.”

“I might actually pass out. You’re so cute, oh god.”

Yoongi takes your hands and pins them above your head, holding them softly.

“You’re cuter”, he says and rests his head on your chest. You try to hug him, but his hands keep a tight grip around yours.

So you stay pinned down and under him, while Yoongi nuzzles your chest, breathing deeply as he does.

“Your heart’s racing.”

“Because you are so affectionate. I’m not used to it.”

He lifts his head, looking at you.

“I can be affectionate.”

“Yeah, you can. Just not so cutely.”

“Is that so bad?”

You shake your head, “it’s the best thing ever. I like it so much.”

“Mhm”, he lowers his eyes, letting them run over you mindlessly.

Somehow in the nice silence of it all, he managed to throw one leg over yours, now resting it between your thighs. Like this, you are so close, separated by nothing but your thin sleeping clothes.

Yoongi meets your eyes again.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful too, my love.”

He cups your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I like it a lot that you always ask me, you know?”

“Yeah well, it means a great deal to me to know you want it. I’m not Hades”, he jokes, making you laugh.

“Oh god, not that again. Yeah, you definitely aren’t him”, you say and ruffle his hair, “come and kiss me, you softie.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice, falling into the kiss with closed eyes and a happy purr.

He wants to savour every second of the kiss, just as you want to do the same. And because you and he want to cherish the kiss with such care, it happens that it lasts oh so very long. The touches are adoring and full of love. Your limbs never truly break apart, tangling closer together as the moments become longer.

Distance is only truly present when you have to breathe and even during those moments, you stay oh so very close.

You spend a lot of time on your back, but Yoongi spends just as much time on his back. Truly, the bed might be small, but you roll around in it nonetheless as time passes in the sweetest way.

The night is a lot darker when Yoongi begins breaking the kiss more and more often. You shift your legs to get more comfortable, brushing against his middle this way. The reason for his sudden need for so many breaks reveals itself to your skin hard and a little wet.

“Ah-hm”, he lets out, following it up with a huff of air and a messy kiss to your neck.

Tingles run through you. You move your leg again.

Yoongi reaches down and stops it gently.

“Stay still, please.”

“Boongie, did you get hard?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…so nice.”

“Oh my god, Yoongi”, you gasp, embarrassing him so much that he breaks away and flops to his other side.

“I’m sorry”, he says into his hands, which he has thrown over his face.

With a fond chuckle, you spoon him, trying to drag his hands away from his face.

“Why are you apologising?”

“I, I’m not sexualising you. I swear, I’m not.”

“Gosh, you silly boy”, you say, rolling him to his back. You straddle him, grinding down on him purposefully.

Yoongi gasps, arching his back and squeezing his legs together. His hands grasp your hips, squeezing desperately.

Perfect. What a perfect little reaction.

You put your weight on his thighs, placing your hands on his chest. His heart is racing.

“You’re worrying about the silliest things sometimes. I like when you get hard.”

“You do?”

“Mhm, I do”, you dance your fingers to his neck and close them around it.

Yoongi parts his lips, fluttering his lashes droopily. You aren’t even applying pressure and his head already feels heavier than before.

“It’s so hot when you get hard for me. Can I give it a feel, my love?”

He nods his head, humming a shy yes.

You keep your dominant hand on his neck, using the other to feel him up. His sleeping shorts are very thin, giving you the most delicious sensations on your fingertips. You like how hard cock feels under clothing. How it is just so there and hard and how you can feel out the shape of it. You especially love it when Yoongi gets hard because he is a very leaky man. His once dark grey shorts become almost black at the parts where his tip naturally lies. Wet and sticky. That’s how the fabric feels as you trace him.

“Hm”, the sound leaves him shakily.

You lift your gaze. He has his eyes closed, biting down on his lower lip and furrowing his brows. His hands lie on each side of his head, opening and closing repeatedly. Even now he is looking for someone to hold his hands. If you weren’t suddenly filled with so much gluttony for this man, you would hold his hands until forever ends.

But instead, you abandon his neck to pull down his shorts and take out his cock. Yoongi rips his eyes open, reaching for you to stop you. He can’t get very far and then you have him gripping the sheets and rolling his eyes back as you sink his cock into your mouth.

You lick and suckle his tip as if it was a dripping popsicle, slurping and humming the same way.

Yoongi doesn’t know words right now. He doesn’t know speech. Nor think. All he knows is noise. Make noise. Gasp. Gasp. Gasp and sigh and gasp again. Breathe. Gasp. Whimper. Gasp again. Yoongi doesn’t know words, nor speech and all he can really do is fight for air.

His trembling gasps and little sounds only strengthen your hunger for him. You moan, wiggling your tongue around him in sloppy yet calculated swirls. He tastes different as a human. More…human. As a vampire, he tastes sweet and definitely magically addicting. His essence is meant to charm, to pull the person in and make them dependent on its taste. Right now, all his essence serves is to prove how needy you get him. He doesn’t taste sweet, but he tastes good. So good. Even as a human he tastes so good.

“Wow Yoongi, you’re so yummy”, you lull, taking him in deeper with a delicious moan.

Yoongi finally gains back control. He grasps your hair and tugs you away.

“Stop.”

“Don’t like it?” you make sure, fleeing his weak grasp to instead litter his inner thighs with love bites and hickeys.

It is Not easier to handle for Yoongi. Not in the fucking slightest. He stutters his words as if he never spoke before.

“We, we aren’t at ho-home. You’re so loud, you’ll wake, wake your grandparents.”

You stifle a chuckle.

“Oh Yoongi”, you say, biting his thigh on the most sensitive spot.

Yoongi gasps, arching his back and throwing his hand over his mouth.

“Quiet please”, he tries to hiss but it comes out as a needy beg.

You smile, changing position so you were hovering over him. Your crotch is pressed into his balls, his cock rubs against your stomach. Up until this point in your relationship the thought of being fucked by you had never crossed Yoongi’s mind. He didn’t fantasise about it, didn’t visualise it nor wished for it. Quite frankly, he never even considered it an option. Now all his mind produces are images of having you pump into him. He gulps repeatedly, gawking at you with hazy eyes. What is happening to him?

You move closer to his face, grinding your crotch against him naturally. His hips chase it, his head is pounding. Holy fuck, you’re messing him up.

“We’ll be quiet. Don’t worry”, you whisper, intertwining your hands with his’, “at least, I’ll be quiet”, you add with a teasing smirk.

“Princess”, he croaks, squeezing your hands.

“Yeah?” you breathe, kissing his neck.

Yoongi speaks with his eyes rolled back and his body shivering with each kiss.

“Promise me to be quiet.”

“I promise.”

“I want you.”

“I want you too”, you say and trace his ear with your tongue.

He trembles, ripping his hands from your grasp to hold your waist instead. Just once then he already changes his mind again and looks for your hands.

“Mhm, I want you like crazy”, you purr as your tongue continues to trace his ear. He seems to be sensitive there and you like it when he shivers.

“Princess…” he sighs, giving you all the shivers you so like to witness.

“Yoongi…” you breathe, kissing a path down his clothed torso until you have his cock under your lips again.

You take him back inside, paying attention to his tip while your hands do the rest. It feels so good and Yoongi is feeling his control slip. Panic. He presses his legs together and reaches down, tugging you away.

“Wait, just wait”, he gasps out.

You sit back on your heels.

“Changed your mind?”

“No, I just.” He sits up, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. “Sorry, it’s fast. For me. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I’m sorry for rushing you. Do you want to stop?” you say, rubbing his back.

“No, I just need a moment. I, I get so horny so fast. And, and then I can’t control my thoughts anymore and it’s”, he huffs out air, “fucking shit, I’m talking actual ass.”

“No, you’re not. Why do you wanna control your thoughts during these moments?”

“Because…I don’t know. They’re really sexual.”

“And? I’m having sexual thoughts too.”

“You do?”

Your eyes meet. You nod your head.

“But they’re really sexual”, he insists.

“Samesies.”

He blinks rapidly, looking away. He rubs his own neck, doing so nervously.

“You know what I think your issue is right now?”

“Tell me.”

“Your sense of smell sucks ass.”

He scoffs, cocking his brow at you in question.

You get out of bed and put yourself in front of him. You take off your pants. Yoongi tries not to look but still ends up looking. Once bared, you step closer. Right between his legs so he has no choice but to look at you.

“Can I have your hand?”

He offers it to you, switching between looking at your face in question and your middle in desire.

You flip his hand so his palm is facing up, then guide it between your legs. You hold his pointer finger, moving it through your folds so he can really get a feel of how wet he makes you.

Yoongi purrs, tightening his jaw.

“Can you feel that?”

“Ye-yeah.”

“You might not be able to smell how wet I am, but I am”, you say and grind down on his finger, “you’re not the only one horny. I’m horny too, so much. I’m so wet for you”, you mewl, giving him pretty eyes.

“Holy fuck, princess”, he chokes out, pulling you into a kiss with his left hand on the nape of your neck. He shakes off your hand, taking over between your legs. His middle and ring finger sink into you, his thumb begins to massage your clit.

Not having expected the sudden burst of pleasure, you whimper into the kiss, grasping his shoulders to stop your wobbling knees from giving up completely.

Yoongi curls his long fingers, grazing over your spot most sensitive with such precision that you have to break the kiss just to gasp his name.

“That’s nice, mhm?” confidence is finally in his voice. The raspy deepness of it has returned now that he is in his comfort space; making you feel good.

“Yeah”, you gasp, following it with a wobble of your knees, “is so nice.”

“Mhm. Put your arms around me.”

You follow, burying your hands deep in his soft hair. It’s so soft and thick. He has so much of it. It’s so fucking amazing to play with it.

“That’s it. Hold onto me, my beloved”, he whispers, falling back into the kiss with you. You use your tongues instantly, sighing and moaning quietly. All while his hand continuously drags the warmest and deepest pleasure to the surface. Every curl of his fingers, every rub of his thumb is placed with precision. As if he studied your body to the point of perfection. And in a sense he did. He might still hide his own spots from you, feeling too scared to show himself this way, but he knows the paths of your body by heart. While he hid behind always taking the lead, he learned so that he can now make you sigh so very much with just three of his fingers.

But you are stubborn. He likes this about you even if sometimes your stubbornness leads him into rather overwhelming situations. Like your right hand suddenly dropping to his cock to begin jerking him off. He breaks the kiss, moaning loudly just to follow it up with a gasp.

“Quiet”, he hisses.

“I’m not the one being loud”, you throw back sassily, twisting your hand around his heated tip. It looks so flushed between your fingers, like the prettiest shade if pink.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you”, he presses out through gritted teeth, huffing out air in time with his fingers fucking into you. Again and again. In a fast, sloppy rhythm.

But because you are you – the most perfect, stubborn, giving goddess – you don’t crumble under his touches. You match his rhythm, pumping his cock with such sloppy goodness that Yoongi feels dizzy. He moans into your mouth, tilting his head back. He licks your lips, wobbling so much that he accidentally licks the tip of your nose as well. It makes you giggle, which in return messes him up more.

“I don’t think that you’re gonna ruin me” you whisper, watching the effect of your hand job wash over his face. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes rolled back and halfway open.

“Brat”, he croaks, “ahmmmm”, he moans, squeezing his lips together just so he can’t be loud.

“But I’m your brat.”

“Mhm, my brat. My pretty, stubborn brat”, he whispers and kisses you deeply. This is the kind of kiss which would already make you weak in normal situations but with his hand between your legs, it is quite frankly impossible to receive.

It suddenly gets so, so hard to keep the rhythm going. Yoongi, who notices the faltering touches around his cock, smirks into the kiss, picking up skill to show you how good he can give it to you. He always gets what he wants. He is going to ruin you. Your sweet, little attempts to break him first might distract him for a while, but at the end of it, he is going to get what he wants. You’re his perfect soulmate, you are going to crumble for him even if you try so very hard it make him crumble first.

You squeak a little, breaking the kiss. You twist his hair and tug, forcing his head to tilt back. Your eyes are half lidded and droopy as you look at him, your lips are parted.

“You have to…do better.”

He smirks, “don’t test me.”

“Try me.”

With a soft push he puts distance between you and him. His fingers are gone for now, grabbing your wiggling hips. He slides off of bed, falling to his knees and dropping his head on the edge of the mattress. Like this, he pulls you onto his face, licking your pussy with an eager tongue the second it comes into contact with you.

“Yoongi”, you mewl, having to twist the blanket for support.

“Lean on me, princess. I’ve got you”, he purrs between licks, caressing your shaking legs with eager hands.

“This is unfair, oh god Yoongi”, you mewl, dropping your head. You are really trying to be quiet. Yoongi not so much now that he is pussy drunk and lost. He is so noisy in his licks and slurps, adding throaty growls and delicious purrs to it. How obviously in his element he finally is. How little he cares for his environment when his face is buried between your legs. The switch will never fail to make you shake. To have him go from shy and reserved to a complete noisy munch. Oh, you can barely handle it.

But even Yoongi has to stop. Even Yoongi has to come to the painful realisation that humans have to breathe, that he can’t spend minutes without air. He growls as he does it, looking up at you with blown out pupils and a messy lower face.

“You’re my fucking everything, princess”, he purrs, “fuck, why is air so sparse?”

“Cause you’re human.”

“Mhm, if only there was a spell for unlimited air. I’d live right here”, he lulls, dragging you back onto his tongue to devour every inch of your addictive pussy. Even as a human he loves the taste. Even as a human he feels charmed by it. Even as a fucking human, he can’t get enough. He feels mad in desire. His thoughts are scrambling again, spitting the most vile things imaginable, but he feels no shame anymore. Just maddening desire to make all these thoughts a reality. He wants you shaking, trembling and whimpering his name. He wants you wetting his face and gripping his hair. This is what he is good at. Even as a human. The proof is right there. He exists to give and give and give.

You can’t even be mad at him for putting his own needs on the backbench because he is currently making you come insanely close to an orgasm and you are panicking.

You begin fleeing, gripping his hair, stumbling while he continuously drags you back onto his tongue.

“It’s too much, please”, you beg.

Yoongi slows down, using the moment to catch his breath. His tender hands rub the back of your thighs, soothing the shakes in them.

“Hurts?”

“No, too close.”

“Mhhhm”, he purrs and stops caring about your little whines. He drags you back onto his tongue, sucking and licking you on the spots most sensitive. Being close isn’t a reason to stop. He won’t entertain your begs when this is the reason. You talk big about making him crumble first, but he is hellbent on proving you wrong. He sucks and slurps, moving your hips on his tongue so you can feel everything. He basks in every throb, in every pulse and new droplet of pleasure you feed him. Fuck, he loves eating your pussy.

You twist his hair, wobbling so incredibly much, and throw your hand over your mouth, scrunching your face as he makes you feel so much pleasure that it is hard to be quiet. He is definitely not easier to handle as a human. His fangs and long tongue might be missing, but his talent remains. This is it. If you hadn’t known it yet, you definitely know now. Yoongi is actually good. He isn’t just good because of vampiric magic, he is good because he has skill and an actual, insane obsession with eating pussy.

“Yoongi please”, you beg because begging is all you can do.

He sucks on your clit with vigour, reminding you how sensitive you are there. The wet, fast licks which follow afterwards do the rest.

You have to climax on his face if you wanted to or not. You really want to. He feels so good.

“Yoon- you…unfair”, you choke out and feel the knot break. Hard and very hot. And because it’s Yoongi, he presses you closer as you throb, making it fucking impossible to function. If it wasn’t for your hand, you would squeal his name as loudly as you can.

You begin fleeing. Yoongi doesn’t let you. He uses magic on you to lift you and flip you so you were kneeling by the bed with your tummy against it. He cages you in behind him, kissing your neck with wet, puffy lips. His cock is between your legs, fucking back and forth to grind against your pussy. Electric. He makes you feel electric. And so utterly his’.

“Did you just use magic to, to move me?”

“Hm, maybe”, he purrs, placing his left hand over yours while he lets his right slip between your legs again.

You writhe and squirm, pressing into him just as much as you flee him. You whimper softly, reaching behind yourself to twist his hair. He purrs, cuddling closer as his hips grind into you.

“Mhm, now you’re so wet”, he whispers, playing with your clit even if you’re still sensitive, “and so fucking puffy. Mhm princess, love when you’re like this.”

“Yoongi please”, you get out, dropping your head against him.

“Sensitive?”

“Yeah”, you mewl.

“You’re such a good girl”, he praises, rewarding you with his cock against your clit.

You gasp, trying to form words.

“What’s the matter, mhm?”

“I love you.”

He falters, stilling for just a moment before he hugs you tightly and kisses your cheek.

“I love you too, my beloved”, he says against it, following it up with a rub to your clit with his tip, “boop.”

“Huh?” you laugh instantly, craning your neck to look at him.

“Did I do it right, mhm?” he chuckles.

“I guess? Oh god, Boongie you’re so cute.”

“Mhm, you’re cuter”, he says and slips his hand to your hips. “Stay quiet, I know you can do it”, he says and breaks away to lie down on the floor with his head between your legs. With one magical push he has you smothering him with your wet pussy.

“Yoo-”, you silence yourself by dropping your head on the bed and biting the blanket. You huff out air repeatedly, writhing in his strong hold as he drags burning pleasure to the surface.

You learned your lesson. Don’t challenge Yoongi about who gets the other to break first because you will lose. Even as humans you can’t win against him. His touches are too powerful, his devotion just too strong. With drool soaking the blanket and your legs shaking, you take the sloppy head he gives you against your childhood bed while the blinds are still open.

If it wasn’t already fucking hot, the way he gives it to you does the rest. It isn’t long and he has you throbbing on his tongue a second time. The blanket works overtime to silence your squeals, his magic keeps you from completely sitting down on him.

He also uses his magic to move you after you flee in overstimulation. He is on his feet within seconds, carrying you in his arms with ease. You know that he is using magic because it tingles a little. Or maybe you are tingling because he literally made you see stars.

Whatever the case, you are utterly and completely his’ right now. He gazes up at you with his face wet and his lips puffy and deep pink.

“Still wanna talk big?” he asks.

“I can’t stand you”, you choke out, dropping your head on his shoulder.

He laughs, “it’s what you get for challenging me, you little brat.”

You tremble, exhaling shakily.

“Aww poor baby, did I break you?” he coos as he climbs onto bed with you. You sit on his lap like this, hugging him oh so tightly.

“Shut up.”

He laughs deeply, patting your butt. He kisses your shoulder, speaking softly.

“You did really well.”

“I still can’t stand you.”

“Princess, no. Don’t talk like this”, he whines in a chuckle.

You lift your head, meeting his smiling face. You smile at him instantly, cupping his glowing cheeks.

“I lied. I can’t get enough of you”, you say.

“That’s so much better.”

You giggle, pushing him down to kiss him. Yoongi falls with a throaty moan, letting you straddle him gladly. This is a position he will always feel comfortable in. You and he are equal here and he loves it when you show him that you can push him around easily.

You moan and sigh into the kiss, feasting on the taste of you as your hands are restless on his torso. His own hands are restless as well and somehow in the fumbling of it all, he manages to take off your shirt. It drops to the floor, Yoongi pulls you to his face instantly so he can kiss and suck your breasts. Like this, your pussy is grinding against his clothed stomach, messing up his shirt.

“I want your skin, please Yoongi.”

“Rip my shirt”, he lulls, face first in your tits.

“How??”

“Challenge the feelings and use their strength. Trust me.”

You do as you are told, ripping the shirt with ease.

“Yoongi”, you moan, throwing the shirt to the side. It repairs itself mid air because Yoongi does it, dropping to the floor in one piece.

“Good job, my good girl. Fuck, my good girl”, he praises, burying himself back in your tits to devote his everything to them.

You close your eyes in a roll, dropping your forehead on the edge of the backrest. You have what you craved. You are grinding against his naked stomach, feeling everything. His soft skin, his happy trail and his warmth. If he hasn’t already ruined you before, he definitely would have now. But he already made you crumble, resulting in the grinds to make you twitch each time your clit comes into contact with him.

“You feel so good…”

“Mhm, you feel so good too, princess.”

“I wanna fuck you.”

He smiles, “wanna fuck you too.”

You shimmy down until you have his cock under you. You wrap your fingers around his base, guiding it through your folds.

Yoongi purrs, gazing at you with droopy eyes and a giddy smile. His big hands caress your thighs, his chest heaves up and down in excited breaths.

“My beautiful”, he sighs, lowering his lids just a little more, “can’t wait to be inside.”

“I’ll do it now, I can’t wait. Ready?”

He smiles up at you, nodding his head with a hum.

“I love you.”

“I love you too”, he whispers, arching his back when you sink him into you.

He bottoms out within seconds, filling you up so good that you have to gasp for air.

“Does it hurt?” he asks worriedly.

But you shake your head, “it feels so good. So warm and, and...” You shiver, smiling at him. “And so right.”

“It does princess, it does”, he agrees with adoration in his honey voice.

You start moving, struggling within seconds because your legs are wobbly. So to help you, Yoongi props his arms up and holds both your hands, giving you something to lean on this way. Moving becomes so much easier, the connection even deeper.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, fucking beautiful, fuck”, Yoongi gets out, gazing at you with droopy eyes. His toes are curling. The pleasure you give him is intense and he wants to close his eyes, but missing out on your beautiful face would hurt too much. So he powers through it. He gazes even if his eyes burn in exhaustion, he smiles even if his lips want to form moans instead.

To be looked at with such love makes you feel so good. So goddamn good that you don’t have to bounce on him to feel eternal. He is glad that you aren’t because it would set him off with the first movement. He likes the slowness of it, how gentle you move and how it makes both of you float in a warm, fluffy cloud of good pleasure.

“You’re beautiful, Yoongi”, you get out, squeezing his hands.

“You are”, he sighs and closes his eyes.

To watch him let go and truly enjoy it is too much. “Oh god”, you tremble, having to gasp. You stop instantly, otherwise you would have lost yourself.

Yoongi opens his eyes and furrows his brows when he sees the sudden panic on your features.

“What’s the matter?”

“My control, I-”

“You’re safe, let it happen.”

“But what will happen to you?”

“Let it happen”, he encourages you and then his dark brown eyes glow purple.

Your control crumbles instantly. Your eyes match his glow.

“Yoongi, your eyes.”

“Yours are the same.”

“What?”

Thankfully you have a mirror on the wall just high enough that you can see yourself in it, meeting your purple eyes. You exhale shakily, meeting Yoongi’s equally as purple eyes in the reflection.

He smiles, squeezes your hands when you laugh in both disbelief and the overwhelming happiness such a connection brings you.

“Yoongi, oh my god, we’re the same.”

“I know.”

You turn to him, cupping his cheeks.

“My love, oh my love.”

He leans into your touch, sitting up moments later because he wanted to be closer to you. Like this, his stomach gives such nice pressure to your clit. He lifts you for just a second with the help of his magic and crosses his legs, making it more comfortable for both of you to be so close. Like this, you sit on his lap with your own legs around his hips.

“My love”, he whispers, moving your hips slowly so the connection can deepen even more.

The glow becomes brighter and brighter. It is just you and him. You have never been closer than right now. If there was still doubt about your connection somewhere in this universe, this right here is the final proof. You share the same breath, the same warmth and the same colour of eyes as magic courses through both your bodies. You and he are both witches whose magic is based on their emotions and in this moment, your emotions are the same, your magic is one.

“I’d wait a million lifetimes for you, ___”, he whispers, cupping your cheek.

“I’d move the fucking stars for you, Min Yoongi.”

He smiles. Perhaps your eyes deceive you, but there are markings of purple suddenly glowing under his skin. Like a tattoo invisible made visible now that you let his own control slip oh so safely. And as your hips dance with his’ and your hands stay connected with him, the air around you begins dancing in millions of small stars.

“What’s happening?”

“We’re moving the stars, my love”, he whispers.

The stars form their own galaxies, starting from the stars on your ceiling and spreading around you in clouds.

“Yoongi.”

“Don’t cry, my love.”

“We can do that?”

He nods his head with the love growing in his eyes.

“Yoongi”, you whimper, “I love you so much.”

“I love you just as much” he sighs, rubbing your hip in soothing as he wipes the tears from your cheeks. You haven’t noticed it yet, but the same markings glow under your skin. He loves you so very much that he paints more stars onto your shared galaxy until the very room is filled with them.

“Keep moving like this. It feels so good”, he tells you.

“Oh god.” You shiver. “Yeah, it does. Wow, it does.”

You chase the warmth between your legs. For but a moment, you had forgotten what you and he were doing. The magical moment was just too wonderfully distracting. Now that he made you aware of it again, you can’t help but feel just a little overwhelmed from it. This is sex, but this is so much more. You are chasing pleasure, but you are also chasing so much more. This is true love and you are chasing the addictive feeling of making magic with the One.

The stars are endless in the room, purple nebulas have started to form around you and him. The glow of them paints his skin a slight purple, making you glow just as much.

So this is what it feels like. This is what giving up control feels like to someone like you. It is warm. It is so intensely warm that you have to seek his comfort by hiding away in his neck.

“I love you so much, oh god”, you choke out.

“I love you too, my beloved witch”, he whispers. His voice is trembling, his breath is just a little uneven.

Your hearts are racing, the parts where you touch are heated and damp. You deepen the contact by burying your hands in his hair. It feels even softer now that magic sets him aflame. He shudders and exhales shakily, meeting your movements with desperate rolls of his hips.

“Yoon- ah”, you squeak, curling your toes in electric pleasure.

Yoongi answers you in a small whimper and his fingers dimpling your softest spots. His own face is nuzzled into your shoulder, his veins can barely handle the endless pleasure your warmth gives him. He feels home right now. Home and finally in harmony with himself. There are no dark voices in the back of his mind, no curse urging him on to rip you apart, no desires of violence getting stronger and stronger the deeper he falls into you. There is no darkness. Just galaxies of purple and melodies of endless love. He feels out of control, but it creates good in the world.

Yoongi has never felt more in harmony with himself than he does right now. And he wants to share this harmony with you. He wants you to bask in the warmth and silence of it and give you the deep, magical pleasure he feels as it happens.

He presses you a little closer to his stomach, basking in the moan you muffle in his neck. He rolls his hips into you, eliciting yet another moan from you. Again. He needs to make you feel as good as you make him feel.

And it all gets a little too much for you. The connection, his touch, the pressure on your clit and the warmth of having him inside. At all gets a little too much for you.

“Yoongi, I’m cumming.”

“Let go, my love. Let go.”

Your high came sooner than he thought it would, but he doesn’t mind. He holds you through it, looking at the room with awe in his purple eyes. You make the stars dance in swirls and waves.

“You’re beautiful, my little witch. Your magic’s so beautiful”, he sighs, squeezing you closer to him to really give you the best you ever had, “you’re so beautiful, my love. You’re…so…beautiful…”

You feel so free. This is the first thought you have. You feel so fucking free. He makes you feel so good and you don’t have to hold back on anything. The release of pressure, energy and magic brings you to fucking tears.

“I love you so much, Min Yoongi.”

“I love you…too- ah, I’m gonna cum”, he gets out, tugging at your hips, “sit up, I’m close.”

“Don’t hold back, please Yoongi let it happen”, you beg him, speeding up your hips.

“But- ah a-ha, but-”

You lift your head, spilling tears when you realise that the magic has also painted his hair purple. You know that you match his colour, that once again your connection became even more visible. And you never felt more certain about having him paint your walls than you do right now. Let him seal the connection. Let him make you his’.

“Let go, my beloved witch”, you whisper, cradling his cheeks as you dance your hips on him. It is a little difficult because he really ruined you with your high, but you want to do it for him. You want him to experience the same intense high as you did. He is your soulmate and he deserves to feel amazing. Yoongi is breathing heavier and heavier, letting out more and more little whimpers as his eyes just very slowly go out of focus.

“Let go please. I want to be yours”, you beg him, clenching around him.

“___”, Yoongi whimpers and breaks under you, rolling his eyes back and closing them because it all gets too much for him. The stars around you tremble and dance, his fingers dig deep into your softness as his seed covers your every inch, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Yoongi. I love you so much”, you choke out, helping him ride out his high and feeling so good that you make the stars dance just as much.

He falls down after his high, dragging you with him so he could hug you just as much as he tries to kiss you. You try to kiss him back, but both of you are so out of breath and you keep giggling and smiling that it’s difficult to find a rhythm. It makes the kiss so much more special because it is honest and it is real and in this moment, you and he carry your fucking feelings in every giggle and every shaky breath. You just did it. You sealed your connection. You let it happen and as you did, you created galaxies out of nothing. You lost control together until purple was all around you and flowing through your veins. You became one soul.

The stars become less and less as you kiss until only the luminescent stickers on your ceiling glow in an ever fading purple.

“Oh god Yoongi, we actually made galaxies.”

“I know. Holy fuck, I lost control and it didn’t make me violent.”

“I’m so happy for you, oh Yoongi”, you choke out, lifting your head so you could meet his eyes. His hair is black again, the glow under his skin stopped but his eyes were still a slight purple. Darker than before, but the remnants of strong magic still flicker in them.

You touch his cheek, his neck, his hair.

“Your skin was glowing and, and your hair. Your hair was purple.”

“I know. You were the same.”

“We were the same. Yoongi, you and I are so right.”

“We are. Ah! Mhhhm”, he suddenly tenses up, scrunching his nose, “okay, don’t do that. My cock’s gonna fall off.”

“Huh? I just moved a little. You normally like that.”

“Yeah, not here. Uff, I’m so sensitive please get off.”

He makes you laugh, which makes slipping off a very whiny procedure for him.

“So I take it that your human cock can only go once?”

“Definitely yep, wow that hurt”, he says and rubs his cock soothingly, “my poor little wiener.”

“Yoongi”, you snort, “why would you call it like that, you silly bean?”

He laughs with boyish eyes, kicking his feet as he does it. He really makes you so happy that you have to throw yourself on your back and laugh just as much.

You each drink some water after your laugh. You also each go to the toilet and clean up as best possible. You don’t bother to put on clothes, waiting for Yoongi to come back. He does so quickly, locking the door behind him and running to the bed.

“Kook and Tae are downstairs. I ran so fast. I was scared they’ll see my naked ass.”

“But you did it?”

“I hope”, he says and slips under the blanket. He wiggles around a bit, making cute sounds.

“Comfy?” you snicker fondly.

“Yeah, so warm”, he purrs and nuzzles into the pillow with a scrunch of his nose.

You and he gaze at each other like this. He cups your cheek, tracing your skin slowly.

“My little witch”, he whispers.

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes halfway.

“I can’t believe you let me cum inside. What if something happens?”

“If it’s anyone, it’s you Min Yoongi.”

Seriousness washes over his features as the meaning of your words sink into him. He tries to speak calmly but his voice trembles.

“I don’t know what you see in me, but whatever it is, I’m so fucking glad that you do.”

“I see everything in you. My past, my present and my future.”

Yoongi pulls you close, hugging you against him.

“My beloved. Holy fuck, I love you”, he presses out, cradling you with such desperate love it feels as if he wanted to melt with you.

“I love you too, my beloved.”

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