#it’s not even a Drabble anymore | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spamgyu · 4 months

Text

COLLEGE!Mingyu AU - dates and confessions

no bc college!mingyu as someone who lives down the hall from your dorm and you always run into him doing something questionable

REQUEST: heard that collage Mingyu is finally getting ahead in his love life with Oc and the oc might confess. Sooo what if Mingyu tells oc that he is going on date and OC gets jealous ->gets to know that she likes him and boom she confesses

[College!Mingyu Masterlist]

She didn't want to admit it.

Not to herself, not aloud, not to her brother, not to her parents, and definitely not to him.

Y/n had fallen for Mingyu.

She could have sworn it would never happen, only seeing him as friend... who just happened to make her laugh and smile, even during days when she felt like the world was against her.

And sure, she may have found herself wanting to spend more and more time with him – agreeing to all his invitations to eat their meals together, hang out in his dorm room, and late night study sessions in the library.

It wasn't until she found herself absentmindedly staring at him as he placed their coffee order at the counter, when she realized that maybe she saw him as more than a friend she enjoyed spending her free time with.

Y/n began to notice how much she loved seeing that stupid smile of his, the one that showcased those stupid cute fangs of his. Her heart skipping a beat each time he would casually sling his arm over her shoulder as they walked alongside each other. It was such a casual act that she didn't seem to pick up on it the first time he had done it – but as time went on, she felt as though her skin was on fire each time he made contact with her.

Of course, it didn't help that he was a shameless flirt, playfully hitting on her any chance he got.

Not only was she over analyzing his actions towards her but also his words.

The ones he most likely used on all the girls that were lined up to get even a crumb of attention from him.

God, she was one of them.

"How do I look?" He barged into her room – pulling her out of her brain rot.

"Why do you look so..." She trailed off, taking in his appearance. In all the times she had hung out with him, Y/n had only seen Mingyu in an outfit variation of hoodie, sweat pants, or shorts. For once, he was dressed ... presentable. Or at least, different from his usual rotation of casual wear.

It was simple outfit. A white tee, brown cardigan, white Sambas, and black chinos she could have sworn he purchased at UNIQLO during the time she had dragged him to the mall – not because she wanted to be with him.

No definitely not that.

He had a car on campus and she needed a ride.

"Good?" Mingyu completed her sentence with a smirk.

"Put together." Y/n corrected.

"Minghao is going on a date and she's bringing a friend."

Oh.

A date.

A double date.

He was going on a date.

"Ah..." She nodded, hiding the wave of disappointment that washed over her.

Of course he was going on a date.

Of course.

He was single, and she was just a friend.

Of course.

"You should wear your chain." She suggested.

"It's not too much?"

Y/n shook her head.

She loved that chain on him. That singular piece of jewelry had sent her over the moon the first time she had taken notice of it.

Y/n could remember that day so clearly.

It was a rainy day and Mingyu had insisted on grabbing dinner at a nearby tofu house instead of their usual on campus dining hall dinner dates.

Platonic dinner dates.

He had ordered his soup extra spicy and had shrugged off his puffer in the middle of their meal, sporting only his plain black tee and silver chain. Y/n nearly choked on her meal trying to suppress her gasp.

He looked good.

"Who's the girl?"

Mingyu shrugged, taking a seat on her bed. "Hopefully she's cool."

I hope she's lame and not his type.

"That's your main concern?"

"Yeah, I hate boring dates."

"You'll be fine. Just talk her ear off like you usually do with me."

"But it's easy with you because you're already my friend."

Friend. Ouch.

Y/n knew she had feelings towards him, but she didn't think it would be this bad – feeling the disappointment turn into jealousy.

Wanting to keep her composure, Y/n pretended to busy herself with the mess on her desk. "I still think you'll be fine."

"If it goes south, will you save me?"

"Have you seen yourself?" She snorted, placing her gel pens into their respective cup holder. "She'll probably do anything to make sure that date goes well."

"Did you just admit that I look good, y/n?" Mingyu chuckled.

Pausing her actions, Y/n whipped her head to see a smirking Mingyu – her eyes wide. "Oh god, you'll never let this go."

"You think I'm attractive?" He continued, hopping off her bed; making his way to her.

Taking a step back as he closed in on her, Y/n stretched out her arm to ensure he didn't come any closer. But he was persistent, taking another step as the smirk grew larger; her hand landing right on his chest.

His well defined chest that was always hidden under the baggy garments he chose to wear.

This is not good.

"Well, you're not ugly." She took another step back, withdrawing her arms back to her side.

"Why are you so red, I'm just playing." He chuckled, pinching the tip of her hot ears.

Her foundation was doing a great job of hiding the redness of her cheeks; she should have known when she felt the rush of warmth engulfing her face that her ears would give her away,

"My ears are always red." She leaned away from his touch.

It was a shitty excuse and they both knew it.

"Sure." Mingyu winked.

There he goes again with that stupid habit of his.

Y/n noticed that anytime he was feeling a little too flirty with her, he had a habit of winking whenever he would tease her. At first, she didn't care for it, but as time went on and as her feelings began to develop – she began to hate it.

Because of how well it suited him... and how she knew he most likely used this on other women.

It made her sick.

"Whatever." Y/n grumbled. "Aren't you going to be late?"

Mingyu shook his head. "You still have me for five minutes."

Have him.

Yeah, fucking right.

The most attractive guy on their school basketball team? The one that drew in girls who had little to no interest on the sport, cheering for him every time he would steal the ball from the opposing team? The one that had their whole floor swooning anytime he greeted them?

She'll never have him.

"Ugh, please just go." Y/n groaned, pushing him towards the door – but he was far stronger than her, standing his ground. "Mingyu please."

"I'll leave if you promise to get boba with me after."

So she can hear him talk about his date after? No thanks.

"I'm busy."

"Bullshit."

"I am! My roommate has been bothering me about going with her to sigma chi's–"

"A frat party?" He coughed in bewilderment.

It wasn't that he didn't believe her.

It was the fact that he did.

Images of her drinking in the mess of sweaty bodies, at some crappy poorly maintained home, with no one to look out for her, had caught him off guard.

There was no doubt she partied, he's heard stories of it.

But... Mingyu didn't think she would choose it over spending time with him.

Not since she had managed to agree to all his ideas of hanging out.

"We can go tomorrow." Y/n suggested.

"Fine.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"Hey." A tap on her shoulder had drawn her attention from her conversation with Hansol, a guy from her biochem class.

Correction, the guy that had a hand on her passing the class; allowing for her and the rest of their lab group to copy off of his homework.

"Someone's outside looking for you." Her roommate continued.

Emphasizing on the word 'someone'.

"I'll be back." She excused herself from Hansol; squeezing past the mess of bodies that occupied the home.

Y/n let out a sigh of relief once she had reached the front yard, the cool spring air filling her lungs – a stark contrast to the humid air inside.

Scanning the row of parked cars, Y/n's eyes landed on the familiar black 90's Honda Civic; hazards blinking brightly.

"How was your date?" She bent down to peer into the opened window.

"Boring." Mingyu reached over to unlock the door. "Get in."

"I'm–"

Before she could finish her thought, Y/n found herself sliding into the front seat of his well maintained car. He had told her many stories of him and his father fixing up the vintage hatchback – most of his summer, and savings, going towards restoring his so called 'baby'.

She couldn't find a good enough excuse to stay; knowing that her roommate was far too occupied with her friend group they had run into when they had arrived.

Y/n absence wouldn't be missed.

Mingyu chuckled as she buckled herself in, throwing out the remaining liquid in her red cup.

Her father would kill her if they were caught drinking underage.

And if that wasn't enough, he would probably murder her if they were caught with an opened drink in a moving vehicle.

"What's so funny?"

"I knew you would get in the car." He smiled as he started the car back up.

"I– whatever." She also didn't have an excuse for this. "Was the girl cute?"

"No. Was your guy cute?"

"My guy?"

"Your roommate said you were talking to some guy." Mingyu recalled when he had called out to the girl who had gotten quite used to his presence in their room – asking for y/n's whereabouts.

"Kinda."

"Kinda." He made a face as he kept his eyes on the road.

"Yeah, I think you guys would be cute together." Y/n laughed at her own joke.

Mingyu's unpleased look changed to a smile, reaching over to give her cheek a poke. "Do you think I'm his type?"

"Oh yeah." She continued.

"What about you?"

"He's not my type."

"No I mean– Am I your type?"

"Yeah."

It was good thing the streets were empty at this hour, Mingyu's foot instantly stomping on the brakes – his arm reaching over to stop her body from lunging forward from his sudden actions. "What?" He whipped his head to face her.

He was only half joking; not thinking she would actually answer him seriously.

"What?" She blinked.

Y/n didn't realize she had accidentally blown her cover, their conversation going faster than her brain.

"You said–"

"No I didn't." Y/n replied quickly.

"Yeah you did." His eyes grew wide, almost as if he had fully processed what she had said. "You said I'm your type."

"Yeah but– okay you're tall, my parents like you, and you're smart–"

"Calm down," He chuckled at her flustered state. "You're my type too."

"Shut up." Y/n didn't want to completely buy it; he had been messing with her for as long as she could remember. For all she knows, this was just yet another moment he was doing just for shits and giggles.

"I'm serious."

"Yeah well, if you know someone who checks off those boxes–"

"Me, I check off those boxes."

"Not you."

"Why not?" Mingyu scoffed.

"You're just doing a bit."

Furrowing his brows, he tried to read her; not understanding why she was being so dismissive of him.

Usually when two people confess their feelings, or whatever this was, it was supposed to be sunshine and rainbows – it should be the pivotal moment of their relationship.

And yet, it seemed as though Y/n didn't want to acknowledge it.

Almost as if she didn't want it to be him.

"I�� no yeah, it's so a bit." He rolled his eyes, his tone dripping in sarcasm.

"Come on, Mingyu. I'm just your coach's daughter he tried setting you up with. You don't have to keep up the act."

"Sure." Mingyu replied simply, resuming their drive to the boba shop they frequent just a few miles from the campus.

The silence was almost deafening as she attempted to muster up a single word to say.

Anything.

Say anything.

"You're not messing with me?" She toyed with the ends of her hair, keeping her focus on the split-end she was picking at.

"What made you think I was?"

Y/n shrugged.

"I've spent more time with you than I have with my friends, I changed my path to my calculus class so I can walk with you to your english class, I ditched my date–"

"You ditched your date?"

"I mean, they wanted to go to Seaside Donuts after and I said no." He turned to her as he slowed down at the red light. "I joke around, but I'm– I do have feelings for you."

Y/n peeled her eyes away from her hair, meeting his gaze.

She didn't want to believe all that he had confessed; just as she didn't want to believe her own feelings.

She knew he wasn't lying. She too has seen him more than she has seen her own friends in the past month and a half; her friends calling her out in their group chat about spending more time with Mingyu than with them.

It wasn't her fault that he was quick to make plans.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay, I believe you."

A smile began to creep on his lips, the one she adored so much – full fang and all. The one that was engraved in her head, making her heart flutter every time she thought of him and that stupid grin of his.

"So what does this make us?" He wiggled his brows.

"Friends."

"What the fuck?" Mingyu laughed.

"You just came back from a date, told me I'm your type and expect me to be putty in your hands?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

As if his smile couldn't get any bigger, Mingyu's lips stretched from ear to ear. "You were jealous?"

"Green." She nodded over to the light.

"Don't avoid my question."

"Not jealous. But not please either."

Mingyu reached over to give her cheek a poke; an action he found himself doing quite often.

He couldn't help it.

It was soft, and the pout she made every time he would do this was worth the light smack he would receive.

It was cute.

"I owed Hao a favor. It won't happen again."

"I don't care."

She did care.

She cared a lot.

She never wanted to feel that possessive towards him ever again. That was a nasty feeling, bubbling in her chest as she thought of him enjoying the company of someone that wasn't her.

What has he done to her?

"Yeah you do." He poked her again.

"Whatever." Y/n bit back the smile that threatened to form on her lips. "I have standards, you know. This doesn't change anything until I say so."

Y/n didn't think this was how she was going to tell him how she felt. She didn't think she would ever tell him, to be quite honest.

It wasn't the most ideal situation, she was sat in his car buzzed from the mixed drinks she had been sipping on earlier that night whilst they drove to get milk tea... after coming back from a double date...

It wasn't the romantic scene she had in her head.

"That's valid," He nodded. "What's one more box to check off, right?"

Mingyu had no issues with continuing to pursue her until it met her standard.

She was the one he wanted, after all.

@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

#can't even consider this as a drabble anymore omfg.....#ANYWAYS UHHHHHHHHHHHH slowburn no more??? but also kinda??? i wanted mingyu to pine for her longer but I GUESS ILL BE NICE #this is scheduled im still taking my writing break #college!mingyu au #spamquest #mingyu x reader #mingyu x oc #mingyu drabble #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios

385 notes · View notes

chaosfae-writes · 9 months

Text

𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥

premise: the lioness gnaws on her favored maiden.

pairing: yandere!cersei lannister x poc!reader

warnings: abuse of power, gender identity issues (slight, but this is cersei), wlw, dead dove smut.

ao3

a/n: although I love show cersei, she was watered down a bit. I wanted to see more of her delulu side, and exploration of her gender issues. Sansa Stark cameo! Sansa is just a baby that needs protecting! <3 anyways, enjoy! <3 do not repost my works!

Cersei Lannister doesn’t have companions.

An unruly child grew into a woman with a crude tongue. Where she lacks empathy with a blackened heart, she makes up for her beauty and charm—- that only extends so far.

Golden locks, and fair skin—- with a temper of a lion. Deludes herself that she has been deprived of her inheritance to Casterly Rock, and is the true queen majesty of all seven kingdoms.

Everything belongs to her.

Her kingdom, her brother, her children —- even you.

A possessive creature. Her love only extends to what she craves, and what she sees in herself. And whenever she senses a threat upon her possessions, that anyone could snatch away her toys —- the lioness becomes irate.

A small council, and a small flock of handmaidens. Only a handful of maids are entrusted in the queen’s space, but only one to bear witness the queen at her rawest.

You are punished by her unsought favor.

To clean her, to dress her, a vessel for her to unburden herself on you. Mistakenly you offered sympathies as a woman one day —- perhaps, too kindly.

Prior, you were just a handmaiden blending in within the palace.

The late king had struck Cersei, you catered to her. Cleaning her split lip, all you spoke was that a queen should be respected, no matter what she has uttered.

All you did was to perform your duty as the queen’s servant … no ill will. Perhaps it’s your shyness, or your taught obedience that caught Cersei’s meticulous eye.

Eventually, she demanded more of you. Requesting your presence for everything, and eventually more demanding—- more touchy.

Dressing you in her house’s colors—- gold and deep red. Adorning you with luxurious fabrics, and discreetly pinning a lion brotchee upon your shoulder. It brought a wave of embarrassment, for such clothing is above your station.

Showering you with such gifts as a king does so to his paramour. It became abhorrent at times to nearby eyes—- more than once, you caught her father’s cold glare.

Conversing with you—- or rather at you, rambling on about her fits of rage upon her father’s lack of respect, how she isn’t respected as queen, how the small folk should be kissing her feet—- or how her little brother should’ve died at the birthing bed.

Delusions of greed and arrogance woven with the silk of self-wallowing, and pity.

Always touching.

Grazing your skin by the fingertips, her breath upon the slope of your neck, gripping your mound tightly as if she possesses any ownership. Sending Bernadette —- against the maid’s growing irate —- to fetch for you almost every fortnight.

To the point where you don’t even sleep in your own chambers anymore.

The traitorous wolf is dead.

Long love the youthful stag.

A feast, a celebration held by the newly crowned king. As he cheers over the death of one of the noblest men to live. A cruel boy who immulates his mother’s strife. A feast of dancing, and platters of luxurious food, merry music and jesters.

Seated beside Cersei, as well as her other maidens Bernadette and Senelle. Carefully, your eyes float a peek at the little dove seated beside Joffrey. Sansa is now a shell of the young girl she once was. Pity dwells within you, a somber child, who’s eyes never leave her lap.

You were once that child, once hopeful, only for life to beat you as if you were nothing. Life doesn’t spare the young, age has no limits.

You’re picking at the fruits and meats on your plate, rather bored at the royal nonsense. Gossip among ladies, and redundant chatter of politics among the lords —- it doesn’t pertain to you.

Never has, never will.

As a young girl, it bothered you. How unfair it was that the town folks suffer, as the noble float above the clouds with fine clothing, unending platters of food, and spoiled beyond their dreams.

Now, it doesn’t matter. The bitterness doesn’t matter. Grief to spite, to then an achromatic sense of life. You learned that you are no different than these flocks —- we all are born, then we die all the same, buried in the same soil we go.

But fantasies of escaping to the East, to the land of your ancestors —- to start anew keeps you hopeful. Meet someone, have a babe or two. Live on a farm fruitful of crops.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t sense a presence looming nearby, ever so watching, gawking at its prey.

“May I have this dance?” A voice soaked in sultry warmth, beckoning and confident. Startling you to jump just a bit, turning over your shoulder, standing above you, is Jaime Lannister. Gold yellow hair, smooth and silky, and a confident smirk to match.

“Lord Commander.” You speak in a gasp, bowing your head respectfully. Jaime’s smile twitches, growing wider—- Lord Commander —- not many address him as such. It’s always Kingslayer , never an ounce to respect.

“May I have the pleasure of a dance?” Jaime’s tone is more smoother, his canines flashing as if he’s ready to bite.

Cersei’s eyes narrow, “Jaime, let her be.” She tries to keep her voice low. Jaime scuffs playfully, “ And why? All these squawking hens must be such a bore.” He turns to you with a boyish grin, making you laugh softly.

All it does is make Cersei more annoyed. She has been upset all evening—- rather all day. Cersei found you earlier in the morning tending to Sansa. The little girl was bruised and broken by the mongrel of Cersei’s beastly son.

Tending to Sansa felt wholesome, it filled a void inside you. Reminded you of how it felt to be a mother again.

It irritated something in Cersei, to see you so kind to another.

“Thank you, Ser,” You cautiously say, you can feel Cersei’s tension. Doe eyes flutter back to Jaime, “But there are more gracious ladies who are more suited for your hand.”

Jaime tsks at your rejection. “ Nonsense. These birds are not to my taste.” He out-stretches his hand, not taking no for an answer.

Hesitantly, you take his hand, his fingers curl around, no space for escape. Jaime guides you by the feet, feeling the heat of anxiety flood your flesh, as if you felt the thousands of gazes in your direction.

But—- the daggers lodging themselves in your back were from a pair of greens.

A clunky sway between four feet, it’s quite difficult to catch up to Jaime’s step. Unaware at first to steady yourself; Jaime takes this to his advantage, slithering his palm to the nape of your tailbone, luring you into him.

Muttering low, “Follow my lead.” Jaime whispers. Slowing his footfalls, you follow his pace. Clenching your jaw, rather upsetting to be in this position, in the hands of a noble —— in such a vulnerable display.

“I am afraid I won’t be much of a dancer,” Your eyes glued to your feet, a little flumpily. “I haven’t had lessons.” Not daring to glance upward at his intense eyes.

“And weren’t taught lessons on manners.” Jaime jests, earning your head to snap up swiftly, now eye to eye, with a frightened stare of a doe. “Have I offended you, Ser?” Your eyes wearily gaze down.

Jaime chuckles, “There it is again,” his finger curls under your chin, making you look at him in the eye. “Most of the dance, you have not addressed me with so much as a glance.”

You hum, eyes downcasted to the flooring. “My apologies, I am accustomed to not stare too long at the noble.” Swapping harshly, your throat clenching a little.

“Mousey little creature, you are.”

You breathe a titter, bowing your head still, “The bored lion plays with the mouse.” Shyly staring at your feet, careful not to step on his toes.

“Bored isn’t the word.” Jaime whispers, tilts his head closer, attempting to catch your eyes. He leans in your space, you can feel his warmth beat against your face. His nose is just inches from yours.

“Merely curious.” Jaime teases. “My sister has had many maidens, but never any has been beautiful.” He has always snuck glances.

Your eyes slowly gaze up, fully taking in his golden hue.

A natural skin of rich brown —- not many folk in the West possess such color, he can tell you are not of Andal birth. Your flesh shines as sun brown, and curly tresses brushed back to a gold thin lined headdress.

You hum low, not intrigued in his antics, your mind is too preoccupied by another twin —- one who is more meaner.

“You hide yourself in plain cloth, dare to deprive a man?” He chuckles, but his eyes are heavy with need. A simple dress of royal blue—- not the colors of the house you serve, it doesn’t shape your bodice, nor do you seek for it to.

“There is nothing beneath to be desired.” You snip softly. A ripple of fear shivers your flesh, sneaking glances over Jaime’s shoulders. Barely a glimpse at the royal table, a flash of angry green eyes burns you.

“I beg to differ.” His voice pulls you back, eye to eye now. Jaime swirls your bodice around, his open palm tight on your tailbone. Sending a shiver upon the curve of your spine, never been touched by a man.

“My sister has kept you all to herself, I’m envious.” Jaime holds you to his chest, heavy breathing collides. “You tend to her hand and foot—- is there any way you can tend to my needs?” A smirk curls on Jaime’s mouth, ready to sink his teeth.

“When I am cold in my grave.”

“A knight and a handmaiden,” Jaime’s shrugs his head, “A sight all too common.” Gesturing to this as it could be a casual affair. He enjoys your bite, so used to the familiarity of women throwing themselves at him, such easy prey to play with, but he rejects them all.

This is new, a fun game.

You admittedly enjoy his touch, Jaime is breath-taking. Golden honey hair, a strong beautiful sculpted nose, and beautiful green hues.

“I must behold my reputation.” You said in a hush, “I am a lady in your sister’s circle, it would be improper to entertain her brother—- a Lord Commander no less.” You hum low, a small twitch of a smile.

Before Jaime could speak, you catch a glimpse of an ornery glare from a distance, burning with fury. The boldness fades on your lips, but confidence still lingers.

“Doesn’t your oath forbid you of any intimacy?” You jest with him, but your mind is still wondering for Cersei, as well as making sure your feet are coordinated.

You’re nearly breathless, and frightened.

Jaime feigns shock. “My oath won’t be burdened nor broken, if it is kept a secret.” He twirls you again among the sea of dancing lords and ladies. “Secrets can be delicious.” He whispers a wisp into the shell of your ear.

“Even poison can be enticing.” You tilted your chin at him, Jaime smiles, his hands circle your waist even closer to himself. His thumb stroking against your waist.

The environment blurs for a moment, it feels nice. To be treated with kindness, and gracious banter. To not be touched so harshly. But simultaneously, it’s all too much. As if a foreigner in unknown land, touch such as this is—- new.

“How could anyone deny themselves pleasure? Even if it’s —- dangerous?”

You gasp, mouth agape, for once, you didn’t have a snip to his flirtations. Jaime hums a chuckle, “Why, has the mouse lost her tongue?”

“I—”

“The Queen is ready to retire for the evening.” Bernadette’s voice floats behind you, and you thank the Gods above for her —- for just a moment. To be freed from this burning grasp.

“A thousand apologies, Ser. I must tend to—”

“My sister… yes. ” There is a mirth to his tone, mischievous. His eyes stare as if he knows something, toying with it his tongue.

“Yes…” You nod with a timid smile. You bow your head to him, grabbing the skirt of your dress, “I am grateful for the honor of a dance, Commander.” Jaime’s mouth is agape, and genuinely it spreads to a wanton smile.

“ Jaime.”

You gasp a breath, eyes taken back. Jaime grabs your hand into his, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

“Please call me Jaime.” His eyes are pleading, almost glassy. You blink, a simper of appreciation. A royal has never been so amiable with you. Always ‘my lord’ this, and ‘my lady’ that.

“Thank you, Jaime.” You say, a human sensation of appreciation is twinkling like feathers in your belly. It feels nice.

A cough emits behind you. You close your eyes —- it’s time. Lashes blink back, “I must go.” Feet backpedals, hands slowly slip from the warmth of his fingers.

“Yes, you must go.” Jaime says coyly.

Oval nails slip back to your stitching, you twirl around to walk behind Bernadette. Duckling footfalls in line, as Bernadette walks with a hast stride, slinking through the dancing bodies.

“Our majesty is very impatient.” Bernadette’s voice is snarky, as if she chastises a child.

When has she ever not been?

All you can do is strum in agreement.

As you both reach the king’s high table, you catch Cersei’s eyes. Envy as green as her hues, mouth wrinkled. Immediately she stands from her chair, bidding her son a good evening —- all he does is give her a wave and a cantankerous smile, too busy boasting with low lords.

You immediately follow behind Cersei’s trail, biting your tongue, the edge of your jaw clenching in unbridled anger.

Bernadette is not far behind, trying to level at Cersei’s shoulders, but Cersei snappily dismisses her with a flick of her wrist.

Bernadette is sent away to her own rooms, much to her dismay.

The lioness is prowling.

Foaming at the maw.

Cersei walked with a firm gait. Her hands clasped over each other, her lips twitching; her brocade fabric sways against the flooring. Her brother —- her lover, and her maiden in such a display.

The walk back to her chambers is eerily quiet. Anxiously your fingers fiddle with your rings, as your belly is churning as slippery eels.

Hastily, you grasp the large oak brown door handles, opening it wide for her—- hopefully pleasantries can ease the tension.

Without a look at you, Cersei immediately walks into her chambers. Harsh fingers tugs at her dress collar, Cersei’s back to you. Routine is often instructed to undress her, but she isn’t thrilled to be touched yet.

“Prepare my bath.” She demands, without even looking at you. “Yes, your Majesty.” You speak in a strain. Rolling your sleeves up to the joints of your elbows.

In the washroom, you fill the tub with warm water that has been on flame for awhile. Carefully, you begin to pour in scented oils, put her bar of soaps on the dish tray, and a rag over your forearm.

Cersei strides to the room, only in a crimson robe, with golden threads. Her face is cold, frozen in disgust.

Ungraciously Cersei drops her robe, it glides down her arms. She steps out of the bundle of fabric, and into the steamy bath. The routine commences—- you have it ingrained on what she likes.

As you kneel, Cersei untangles your headdress uncouthly, letting it fling to the floor, your hair flows down your shoulders. You resume your duty, as if nothing happened.

You unclasp her hair from the gold clips, softly caressing her skull. Untangling her swirls, and unclipping her jewelry. Tenderly, you knead the nape of her neck, to the slope of her throat, to her collarbones.

Cersei moans, closes her eyes in content, but she won’t be manipulated by your touch.

Her eyes flicker open.

“Bring me wine.” Curt and sharp. A dismissive wave of her hand. You stand up from your knees, grabbing the wine jug, pouring the dry sweet Arbor wine into her cuppee.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Cersei asks, if possible, the heat of her jealousy can boil the bath. Hesitant, you cautiously say, “Yes, the Lord Commander is a gracious dancer.” You offer her the goblet.

“Formalities,” Cersei chuckles, her head bobs tipsily, “ Ser… Lord… ” Her laugh dies, with a frown, “—with how you were fondling him, might as well refer to him by his name.” Her voice is sharp. She snatches the cuppee from your hand.

“I wouldn’t dare to speak to him so formally.” You say, sinking into yourself more and more. You resume cleaning her, trying to get through the night.

“Is it men you seek for?” Cersei asks, twisting the cuppee between her fingertips. You shake your head, “No, your grace.”

“No?” Cersei’s voice rises in pitch, almost mockingly.

“I do not seek companionship.” You peek through your lashes, trying to keep your composure. As a fawn caught by the hands of a hunter.

A thread snaps in Cersei’s mind at those words.

“If I bore a cock, perhaps you would be enticed.” Cersei hissed, her milky fingers clenching her gold cuppee. Her voice slithers into an incoherent mumble, ‘If I was born a son, we would be wedded.’

Her drunken vulnerability turns sour once more.

An empty malicious thought plagues Cersei.

“The Mountain has a taste for sweet gentle creatures—-” Cersei whispers, fiddling with your sleeve. “He would eat you alive.” An airy laugh escapes her, head reclines. She’s rambling poison, trying to hurt you, as if you have pained her in return.

“Perhaps then your whorish behavior would then be satisfied.” Cersei growls into her drink.

You remain mute, not daring to speak in your defense. It’s better fitted to let her ramble in her delusions. Cersei’s eyes spark again, feline eyes stare at you.

“Remember what he did to our late Princess Elia Martell? That was just sport for him.” Her face morphed to a devilish grin, hazy eyes sharply baring into your wet doe ones. The threat is clear, but you don’t catch the bait.

“All of the realm recalls the tragedy.”

Cersei’s face falls a bit, her smile morphs to a frown, her eyes narrow spitefully. She hoists her slender leg up, splashing her bath water everywhere, even drizzling your fabric, and face; earning a flinch. Your eyes scrunches shut, from the swash.

“Scrub.”

Gently you resume washing Cersei. The wash cloth soaps her skin, avoiding her lower regions, not daring to touch her —- it will only spark her. You save that task for last.

Cersei gulped down her wine, the warm twang floods her blood, and her mean strike.

Cersei calms for a moment, her eyes staring yards away. Finally, her body is cleaned, and you cautiously dove your hand into the soapy water, scrubbing her mound. You can feel her pubic hair through the rag. Out of instinct, Cersei bucks her hips against your palm.

Cersei moans happily.

“My brother desires you.” Cersei slurs, just a little. Staring into her wine, her fingernail scraping against the gold engraving. She speaks in a manner as if she talks to herself. You ignore her, swallowing harshly. Cersei is bristling, you prepare yourself —- for the outburst.

Her wet hand reaches for your hair, waves of midnight brown. Her fingers fiddle with the tresses, coiling into a makeshift fist.

“Pretty little thing…” Cersei deadpans, her pink mouth purses. She tugs downward, causing you to wince. And without any hesitation, her back hand swacks your cheek, sending you to crash into the flooring.

That was Cersei at her gentlest.

Cersei stands from her tub, her tuft of hair in view, nose down at your pitiful state. Crumpled onto the floor, cheek swelling, wet moon eyes —- fragile and broken, just how Cersei likes it.

“My husband wasn’t so kind.” Cersei spits, “He didn’t grant me such mercy.” Cersei’s bare foot grazes against your belly, slightly pushing. Towering over you as if you were a mere worm.

The late king was a brute, harshly thrusting his drunken rage onto Cersei. His swollen belly crushed her, and to add salt to the wound, after violating her body, he would whisper Lyanna in her ear.

“Undress.” Cersei seethes.

Shakily, you untie your dress, one shoulder at a time. “If you dare lay with Jaime—- or with any man, I will cut that tongue out of your little head.” Cersei clicks her tongue, “But oh, that tongue of yours is too delicious. It would be a waste.”

You slip out of your dress, with only a simple white cotton undergarment. Cersei snags your cloth, tearing it to thin ripped shreds, ‘as so a man would’ , Cersei thinks.

Cersei kicks the cotton against the floor by her foot, as you stand shivering under her watchful gaze.

“Kneel.”

As you kneel onto the chilled flooring, Cersei waltz to the bedding, leaning onto her spine, her legs spreading as if she’s presenting a feast.

Crawling on all fours as a dog, head bowing, nose flaring to maintain a steady pace of breath. Closer and closer now, you can feel the heat from her thighs, a natural essence emits from her mound, damp and fresh with herbal water.

Cersei’s fingers sought through your hair, fondling your scalp; guiding you further into her.

Your nose goes against her pelvic bone, her blonde tuft of hair envelopes your entire mouth, tickling your skin. Cersei’s fingers interwoven with your curls, tugging against your scalp sharply now, tight at the roots.

You catch yourself voluntarily suckingly her clit into the cave of your mouth. Sloppily nibbling and licking her folds.

Suckling her mound, mouth latched onto her as if savoring a succulent fruit. Your nose pinned against her hair, all that can be heard is the echo of your tongue lapping. Cersei’s grip is woven tight, it feels like pricking needles against your skull.

Cersei hisses through her teeth, legs spreading wider, hips thrusting against your mouth. Completely at her mercy, her palms holding your head, struggling to breathe, as her cunt is spilt and soppy against your mouth.

Hair not as dark as Robert’s but thick as his once was in his youth, it stirs something in Cersei. As a pot boiling at the rim, she snaps.

“If I was born a son,” Cersei shouts, nearly at her peak, thrashing you off of her. Wiping your mouth by the back of your hand, it glistens with Cersei’s slick.

“Perhaps then, I would have my way with you, not in such a secret!” How dare Jaime try to sway you in his bed, although Cersei warms it herself.

“Fuck you on the hill of Casterly Rock!”

Cersei isn’t always this cruel. Sometimes, she can be kind, and gracious —- as much as she can. Find the humor and joys in her privileged life. When she isn’t drunk, when she can hold a conversation—- she is tolerable.

That Cersei is ‘sweet’ , and in those sparse moments, you can forget that you are merely a servant, and she is the Queen.

“On the bed.” Barking orders as if she is a commander on the battlefield. As you crawl onto the mattress on all fours, Cersei serves herself a handful of your ass, fingers digging.

A pregnant pause.

“Do you desire my brother?” Do you desire a man?

Your face wrinkles in a silent sob, shaking your head, “No, your grace.” Bowing your head down in-between your arms.

“Do you not find him attractive?” Cersei goads, her finger tracing between your cheeks. “No—” a whack against your backside, causing you to wince in pain.

“As children, many couldn’t tell Jaime and I apart.” Cersei says, as she relishes in the blooming heat of your ass. “We mirror each other in so many ways.”

Even both acquire the same appetites.

“You insult him, you insult me.”

“What do you most yearn for in this life?” Cersei asks, tracing your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“I have no ambitions.” You tiredly say. Sucking in your lips into your mouth, tasting your tears. Blindly blinking with damp lashes. Cersei ignores it, humming low in her throat.

“Every little girl has dreams,” Cersei goades, hovering over your spine, her mouth edging near the shell of your ear. In a warm whisper, “to seek for a prince to whisk them away. Surely I did. ” Her pink tongue slithers, and kitten licks your ear, the warmth jolting a shiver to your mound.

Cersei’s mouth trails down from your cheek, to the slope of your neck, leaving behind open kisses. Scraping the skin of your shoulder with her teeth, nipping here and there —- as if an animalistic urge to tear you apart has overtaken her.

“To be Lady of Casterly Rock, is that what you want?” Cersei says, sitting up again, smacking your back, she hums at your whence.

“I do not yearn for a title,” You wail, speaking through choked tears. “I serve only you.” Wrinkling the satin sheets, bunched between your fingers. Strands of hair cling to your tear stained cheeks.

Cersei plunges her fingers into your cunt, making you cry out. “Does this cunt serve me as well?” Tight walls sucking her fingers in, velvety cave explored.

Intrusive thoughts plague her mind. Images of Jaime crawling and ravishing your body; kissing, biting, and licking. It drives her mad—- with lust. She yearns for it to be three of you.

He is hers, and you are hers.

But what if you two convalude with each other? To leave her behind? To have a life together? An intimacy she has no space to shoulder herself in.

“You plot against me—” Cersei yells, her chin wobbles. Any inkling of logical reason is dwindling now. “Where do you go at night?” She interrogates, nose flaring.

“You slip through the walls, parade yourself for the guards?” She spoke through the cage of her teeth.

“I do not conspire against you, Cersei.” You shrivel, trying to inch further into the bed. “I do not want a life as such with Jaime, I desire to stay here …” you swallow a sob, “in the Red Keep with you.”

That is not enough.

You are Robert, and she wants to hurt you—- sex is electric, or it can be painful. She will fuck you as Robert —- this is what men do. Powerful men take what they want, this is what her father would do —- take, take, take, take ! Power, fear! Take all that she desires, take what she loves—

Love?

Affection isn’t a foreign concept to Cersei, but it isn’t something she gives freely. Only threads of herself can feel her love.

Cersei exhales deeply, trying to organize her thoughts.

Her eyes open blankly, one closes lazily after the other.

“I can see it now,” Her voice is hushed. “A Lannister wedding. Lavish as it can be. Gold it shall be.” Cersei’s head glances down, with an unhinged smile.

“I take Jaime as my husband, and you as my paramour.” Her head is swimming, the wine has sunk her even deeper. “Or perhaps, you as my bride. Oh —- how my father would throw a fit.” Cersei slurs and chuckles as a child.

“If only I was a man,” Cersei leans her body down, engulfing your body into hers. “We would live here, as a man would not be questioned on how many mistresses he possesses.” Her slender fingers creepily slip near your ass.

Guiding the slope of your under thigh between her legs, resting her cunt on your kneecap. The soft tuft of blond hair tickles your bare skin, grinding herself.

Soft wet slick sounds fill your ears, as her fingers grip and tug on the meat of your ass. Her hips are thrashing a bit more harsher now.

Her milky hands slither up the hill of your navel, cupping the weight of your under breast; twirling your brown nipple between her fingertips, twisting.

You hiss at the sting, as she relishes in your distress. Cersei bows her head into your chest, swallowing your breast into her mouth. Her tongue lapping at your nipple, her ivories nibbling and tugging harshly against the skin.

Violently suckling your tit, as you twitch and gasp; worried she might bite it off by the teeth. Despite the astringent offense upon your body, the wave of pleasure cascades you.

Skin breaks into bruises, as you twitch. Sensations of pain and pleasure blur, confusion and ecstasy. Without thought, your fingers caress Cersei’s hair.

Cersei’s mouth releases your breast with a wet pop. A tint of burgundy against the brown of your skin, a reddish ring encircling your nipple. Her puss leaves your knee.

The tip of Cersei’s tongue glides down the path of your belly, down to your navel, to finally your pubic bone. Her warm breaths tickle you.

Raspy moans escape from Cersei, as she slowly licks your mound. Plump, and soft. Flickering with her pink tongue, teasing you.

Her green eyes watch you, as her tongue slips through your folds, tasting you. Delving deep, to your puckering hole. Fucking you with her tongue, no matter how much you fight yourself, the sensation of her mouth on you always sends sparks.

Wetness echoes, as her cheeks puff up against your mound. You move your hips down, fucking yourself on Cersei’s mouth. Slamming your hand against your bedding, gripping the sheets between your roving fingers, as undignified grunts leave your lips.

Cersei admires your heaving bare breasts.

The lioness is selfish—- her mouth leaves you. You whine, stiffly leaning back. Her mouth is damp with your essence. With a harsh slap on your cunt, and another. Cersei finds her enjoyment in your misery, as you mutter for more.

“Pathetic little mercies.” She taunts you.

Silently, Cersei kneels once more, twirling her legs. Lifting your knee upward, over her shoulder, along with your other leg underneath her.

Both of your puss connect, dripping with want. Panting, and sweating, only grunts are in conversation. Your hair is messy, damp baby hairs cling to your forehead.

Cersei’s milky fingers hold the flesh of your thigh, as she rides your cunt with hers. Spilt wet clits, dancing together. Electric sensation that pulls the silky moans from you, as Cersei rides you fast.

Your fingers daringly hold her jiggling ass, fondling her asshole. Toying with it. Cersei squeals at the intrusive touch. A primal surge takes hold of you, placing your fingers into the cave of your mouth, soaking in your saliva.

Your hand cups Cersei between her ass, fiddling the bridge between her asshole to her gaping pussy hole. Her head falls back, as you plunge your fingers inside of cunt.

Her golden hair is loose and disarrayed. Cascading down her face, a lion reduced to a whimpering kitten. Your leg twitches against her chest, Cersei bites at your calf dully.

Your toes curl and flex, as the pit of your belly is unfurling. A choppy high-pitched moan spews from you, your head digging back into the pillows.

Cersei shrills a yes , as her climax reaches itself to the heavens. Bruising your thigh under her fingers. Cumming together, Cersei grinds herself onto you, connecting together, with no space of separation.

Clits throbbing against each other, stinging pleasure. Riding your highs, gently thrashing her clit against yours, earning airy moans. The tuft of her pubic hair against yours fuels the sensation.

Cersei moans delightfully, satisfied with herself. Her body towers over yours, crawling into your heaving arms; not caring of the dewy sheen of sweat that covers your body.

Legs interlocking together, as she pulls you into her arms fully. Turning herself onto her side, her knuckles stroking your hip.

These are the sparse moments you enjoy with Cersei. When she is human, when she relishes in touch, rather than harshness.

“Jaime should not be burdened with duties of the King’s Guard.” Cersei whispers. “He needs a bride. Father is aging, and one day, Castlery Rock will be in need of a lord.” She is mumbling now, mostly to herself.

“That disease of my little brother will defile us with his whores.” Hate spills from her naturally, as it always does.

Her voice trails into silence, her fingers snagging onto your flesh, pulling you closer to her.

Sleep takes Cersei, sinking into the mattress. Paralyzed in her hold until slumber overtook you as well.

The morning sun shone through the windows, baring its light onto your eyes. Rubbing your eyes by the heels of your palms, sinking deeper into the blanket furs.

The hinges of the chamber doors creak, jolting you further into reality, eyes heavily leaning to shut closed. Clicks of heels follow, and a hum.

“It seems the morrow has escaped us.” Her voice is light, cheery even. Not an inch of maligne in her infliction. It’s eerie how the mask can slip on and off—- a performance.

Cersei leans, invading your space, seating upon the mattress. Her eyes lower, and darken. How easily eerie her charm and spite can transmute to one entity.

“If I were to find you in the arms of another,” Cersei says, her voice on edge, taking one step closer, her lips stretch into a gritted wolfish grin. “I will gladly brand your cunt with the sigil of my house.” Her green eyes unflinching, her lips smirking devilishly.

Silence prevails, your hair cascaded against your face. Barely hiding your shame, you subtly nod; submitting to her demanding presence.

Cersei smirks, “Good.” The lioness prowls around her chambers, licking your blood off her paws. A victorious slaughter, a fragile doe locked in her cave, with broken limbs—- and a broken spirit.

Peace and quiet.

You inhale a deep breath, as it floods your cavity. Solitude has finally granted itself upon you, away from the yaws of the lioness.

Flexed fingers stroke against the wall, basking in the brisk air. The balcony’s view is marvelous. Unclipping your cleavage, so the breeze can grace your breasts, and sweep against your scalp.

Cersei had taken her leave for a meeting with the king’s council. And surely, no mere maid is allowed in such a space.

Away from her suffocating touch, you can relax in your own skin. A thought comes to you, there are a handful of empty rooms to explore. Your feet carry you down the corridors.

Without thought, searching for an empty chamber, you find one. With the tug of the knobs, you walk freely inside—- only to be greeted with whisking reddish hair.

A gasp catches itself in your mouth, holding your stomach, kneeling legs curtsying in respect.

“Lady Sansa.” You bow your head dutifully. “A thousand apologies, I didn’t intend to intrude.” As your feet backpedal to the entrance, a soft whisper calls.

“Please stay.”

And just like that, her sweet child voice sweeps you.

“Oh, little wolf.” You pinch the fabric of your dress, lifting as you walk with haste. The instinct to hold Sansa over took you. Sitting on her mattress, engulfing her in your arms, quickly her red hair melts against the sapphire threading of your dress.

Sansa’s head is tucked in the crook of your shoulder. Quietly sobbing, her delicate fingers grip against the base of your back, as would a cub cling to its mother’s teat.

Caressing her hair, you shush her softly, rocking her back and forth. “I’m scared.” Sansa’s words are muffled, vibrating against you. “I want to go home.” She wails, mewling.

“My sweet girl, how I long for you to be safe.” You whisper, “I’m so sorry for what has happened.” You kiss her head, muttering apologies into her hair, hoping your kindness weaves itself into her hair, and stays for a rest.

The morrow stretches into noon, as you watch over Sansa. Comforting her in placid silence, brushing her hair. Humming a melody, as your fingers thread intricate braids within her auburn flaming hair.

This feels like home again.

Outside of these walls, both are prisoners within a castle. But here, in this moment, is a woman, and a child. Reliving memories past, as a mother, and as a daughter—- through each other.

To heal these wounds, as mother and daughter.

Just for a moment.

#chaosfae writes #yandere cersei lannister x reader #wlw #yandere game of thrones #a longish drabble #I got ahead of myself though #can this even be considered a drabble anymore???😭#this is not drabble anymore💀#I just kept adding and adding omg #enjoy!<3

361 notes · View notes

euphor1a · 11 months

Text

Comfort sex with Jungkook

thirst drabbles (10/∞)

fandom » bts

pairing » jungkook x f!reader

rating » 18+ (minors dni!)

genre » smut, established relationship.

word count » ~ 670

warnings » mentions astraphobia (fear of thunder), profanity, very light dom/sub undertones, unprotected sex, implied cockwarming, praising, slow sex, creampie, lmk if i missed anything!

The thunderstorm seems to intensify more as you find yourself cradled in your boyfriend’s arms; your bodies connected together. You shriek under him, the deafening sound of yet another lightning strike paralyzing you from fear.

“Oh baby, it’s alright. It won’t hurt you. I’m right here, focus on me, on us.”

You nod silently, sighing when he starts moving again. Jungkook lets his lips caress over your cleavage, overwhelmed by the way your warm, snug, gummy walls clench around his cock. His pace is gentler than ever, his length filling you up to the hilt and sliding back, warmth bubbling inside your chest.

During all these years of your life, you’ve always been terrified of thunderstorms, especially of thunder. The ear splitting sound, the sudden bolt of light – it induces so much fear in you. But, for the first time, you’re feeling safe and loved with the slow rocking of his hips.

“You feel so good, sweetheart.” Jungkook whispers hotly in your ear. Your hazy, drooping eyes admire him in the dim light illuminating your shared bedroom. He looks so ethereal with some of his hair sticking to his forehead, honeyed skin glistening with perspiration. All the strong muscles of his built form flex to keep him hovering over you; his thrusts controlled, slow and steady.

You can’t help but wonder how lucky you are to have him as your lover. No cause, you genuinely couldn’t ask for someone better to be by your side. As if he knows what you’re thinking about, Jungkook leans down to kiss you, your mouth opening up for him. Your soft moan encourages him to explore further, your tongues tangling together in their own dance of passion.

The kiss is all-consuming, setting your nerve endings on fire. Pressing into him more, you try to grind against his pelvis needily, seeking friction where you most want it. Jungkook immediately complies, his fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

“Fuck, please…” Your breathless whisper is almost inaudible due to the heavy raining outside. But, he heard you – loud and clear.

He picks up the pace ever so slightly, his cock hitting all those sensitive spots deep inside your cunt. It makes you delirious. Burying your face in his shoulder, you bite down on his flesh in an attempt to hold yourself together. Jungkook hisses in pleasure, his member stimulating your g-spot and cervix with each of his deep thrusts.

“Goddamn it, baby!” Jungkook grunts, his thumb pressing onto your sensitive bundle of nerves. He can sense that you’re close, sweet pussy clenching around him more often. “You’re doing so well, angel. Come for me.” You blindly pull him in for a kiss, muffling your moans and whimpers. The squelching sound of your and his body meeting over and over echoes through the room, making him groan.

You feel the pleasure coil in your lower belly tightening dangerously, snapping within moments. As the ecstasy crashes over you, Jungkook hisses, halting his movements for a split second to revel in the feeling of you clamping down onto his girth. You cry out his name, a string of incoherent words leaving you.

His thrusts turn fast and sloppy as he chases his own release after you. “Don’t pull out, please.” You whine, pussy walls clenching around his twitching cock. Tears gather in your eyes, your sensitivity making his movements feel more overwhelming.

After a while, Jungkook finally reaches his own high with a low growl. He spills his seed deep inside you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls white. You moan simultaneously, his spent body falling on top of you.

“I love you so much,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around him. His rapid heartbeat slows down as he catches his breath, lips pressing kisses on every inch of your skin within his reach.

“I love you too, angel.” Jungkook nuzzles your neck endearingly. The rain outside has slowed down, the soft pitter-patter of it on the windows coaxing a sigh out of him.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 author’s notes ꒱

to celebrate the official release of still with you <3, a song that holds an enormous amount of significance to me. also, it’s monsoon over here, making it even more meaningful ❤️‍🩹! thank you so much for reading <33!! i hope you enjoyed it 🥺! apologies for any mistakes left in there!

consider leaving a reblog or a comment to let me know what you think of this!! feedback through asks will be appreciated too! support your local writers, it keeps us motivated to create and share 🌸!

↬ navigation

#🪄; things i’ve written #♨️; thirst drabbles!#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #kpop smut #bts x reader #jungkook imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #🥺🥺 me when akslsjdkj #i’m so in love that it’s not even funny anymore 😔#hope this doesnt flop #am very emotionally attached to this 🤧#🥺🥺��️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 he’s so comfort shaped #most definitely recommend listening to still with you while reading for the best experience!

518 notes · View notes

batsvnte · 6 months

Text

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖 — He was everything you weren’t. You were everything he used to be. One being that was filled with light-hearted innocence of clean blood as the other was a blossom of the spilled blood from his hands. Opposites who somehow found each other within the vast universe would be considered an blessing. Despite the lives you two had lived and the troubles you had endured.

The time you shared together could only be a moment before your own downfall started. He was determined enough to stay far away from you despite the nagging desperate feelings he had when he was too far away. He was nothing more than an influence waiting to corrupt your life and eat away everything you had ever worked hard for. The dreams you held so high to chase would crash down in instant if he had continued to be around you.

And yet here he was within your presence. Blade’s eyes met yours in an instant as you stood in front of him. He didn’t dare make the first move anytime he was with you. His imposing strength always led to someone’s last breath being taken, and when he always made physical contact with you he felt as if you would shatter under his grasp. His touch was always hesitant with you. You always took initiative to bring him into your arms. To comfort him and bring him the peace that he had long forgotten.

“One day this’ll be our last dance together, dove” His fingers were intertwined with yours in slow seconds. Your gaze would never waver from him once he’s captured your attention.

You take the lead as you gently tugged him towards you. Now having both of his hands in yours, with a smile that was without fear or caution. Pure adoration on your face that he admired.

“I’ll make sure that this will be remembered for all eternity then”

#— ghouul frights #blade x reader #hsr blade #blade hsr x reader #blade hsr drabble #he gives me so much brain rot it’s not even funny anymore #just a little word dump

153 notes · View notes

good-beanswrites · 11 days

Text

One more scene from Fuuta-Es convos with @waivyjellyfish for now :3 I liked exploring Es' post-canon mindset as an ex-murder investigator... Like my other drabble, I don't have the details worked out but Milgram is over and they're living at the Kajiyamas' now.

What Fuuta didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

It’s what Es told themself as they slipped into his clothes. They’d spotted the outfit at the bottom of Fuuta’s closet a few days ago, then decided to bide their time. With Fuuta and his sister downstairs having breakfast, there was a small window of opportunity now.

Es stuck their arm through the red-striped sleeve. They still didn’t know what possessed them to put it on.

Was it the appeal of something familiar? In a world devoid of all memories, they enjoyed the idea of putting on at least one outfit that they’d seen hundreds of times on their little music video screen. Is it possible to be comforted by someone else’s memories?

Was it old habits? They’d spent each trial doing anything and everything to feel closer to the prisoners. To take a peek into their minds. To step into their shoes. This was taking it a bit literally, they knew. Although everything was over and they had no reason to connect so deeply to any of the prisoners, Es couldn’t get away from the duty they’d obsessed over for so long.

Maybe it was just their troublesome curiosity, always driving them forward. There was a small part of them that hungered for more information, no matter the reason. They were perfectly aware that putting on Fuuta’s red and blue tracksuit would probably offer them absolutely nothing new, but they had to try. Something might be revealed to them, and they needed to know.

Es stood in front of the full length mirror. They turned one way. They turned the other way. They shifted their arms. They cocked their head.

Sure enough, nothing.

They took note of the little details. It was a little big on them, (though it wouldn’t take them long to catch up to Fuuta’s size). It was neither fashionable nor tacky. The material wasn’t exactly comfortable, but at least it felt warm.

But, did it make them feel any closer to Fuuta?

They contemplated a moment, thinking of all that he may have done in the outfit. There were so many classes these pants had walked to, so many arcade coins that these pockets had held. Es wondered if his friends ever nudged the shoulders of the jacket playfully. Maybe they weren’t the type. It had probably seen it’s share of all nighters. And also lazy days spent in bed, or sick days laid up on the couch.

They puffed their chest out, thinking of the confidence Fuuta may have had wearing this. They pulled the hood over their hair. It had likely seen just as much as his hesitance. How many times had he sunk into the thick material for an escape? Or was there an opposite effect – did he feel so comfortable in this that he could commit murder?

Es stared at themself.

There came some shuffling out in the hall. Before Es could move, Fuuta was shouting to his sister and bursting into the room.

“Will you get out of my fucking hair if I bring it to you right –” he froze. “Now...”

Es, too, was frozen in place, their eyes wide.

“I-I’m sorry.” They started unzipping the jacket. “I saw it and… I didn’t mean to –”

“ – It’s fine,” Fuuta muttered. He waved his hand dismissively. He started shuffling things around in his desk drawer, angling his head down, out of sight. His voice was strained, though it wasn’t as angry as Es had been expecting. “It’s not like I’m ever gonna wear it again.”

Es carefully folded the jacket over their arm. “I wasn’t trying to bring up the past. I was just…” What had they been doing?

“I said it’s fine.”

“I know it’s not.”

“You don’t know anything. Wear it every day for all I care. I was just gonna toss it.”

“You still can. Or, I can.”

“Nah.” Fuuta retrieved what he was looking for. He paused in the doorway, taking one last look over his shoulder. “Looks better on you, anyway.”

Es straightened in surprise as he left. They took another look in the mirror. They allowed themself a small smile. They might have undersold how comfortable it was.

Now that they were thinking of it, they did look pretty cool… Maybe that was all there was to it.

#milgram #es #fuuta kajiyama #instead of mvs jackalope should just let es wear the prisoners' murder outfits #adfasdf but really - theres always an interesting closeness that comes from sharing clothes #and i think investigator-brained es would be going crazy with Thoughts #i love the idea of them unable to stop analyzing the prisoners even when theres no need to anymore #it was their One And Only Purpose In Life for a long time and thats hard to shake you know?#also listen. i had to cut a line that ruined my dramatic flow but listen. fuuta was SO nervous wearing that when she died.#hed be scared and running home and sweating. and then hed refuse to touch it from the emotional pain so it would never get washed.#that thing is Boy Stinky im so sorry to break it to you -_-#thank you for the ideas pal!!! im taking a break now but im keeping the others in my back pocket - maybe to write more at some point 👀#drabbles

26 notes · View notes

callsignfangs · 2 months

Note

I know you have something to say about Farah.

Do it.

You know you want to. 😊😉

You lot know me so well 💔💔

Giggles but actually, I’m sorry for randomly vanishing, long story short ive been dealing w some personal stuff and been hesitant to start posting again bc it might be a bit on n off lol. But most things have chilled out a little bit, so i might dip my head back into writing 😇

Also, bc of my amazing luck, I literally got sick, like, today. Sooo, have my fever-induced Farah rambles 😻 Brought to you by. Idk probably the flu or something 💪

Note: the fact i managed to dump this all out in one session before napping is a lil funny ngl 😇

Double note: I acc had a different plan for this, but the sickness has unfortunately taken me, and I’m just going with the flow atp 😇 prepare for more of my Farah braindumps after i’m mildly more alive 😚

Farah & Sick!reader drabble 😚

(Tws: vague sickness, fever 👍)

Lets start this off with the simple fact that- she’s the queen of home remedies. You could pick up some degenerative alien disease from a far off solar system, and she probably has something for it. Mot to mention that she’s pretty good at making said remedies notably more appealing, which definitely doesn’t hurt. Sure, she won’t shy away from medicating you, more than prepared to deal with your slightly high shenanigans, but it’s definitely nice to not be drugged up instantly.

She’s also absolutely attached to you at the hip. It’s like she’s given herself the job of your personal nurse, or something. Of course, she’s doing what’s best for you, but she folds just a little at the sight of your soft, weepy eyes.

Admittedly, she’s not the best cook on the planet. She has more important responsibilities than learning to cook. However, for you? She digs up every family recipe she could find, probably digging up an old scrapbook or two of her grandparent’s meanwhile. She’s determined to shower you in gourmet-level food as much as humanly possible, even if that means constantly ducking out of the kitchen to check on you, cuddled up on the couch.

Speaking of cuddles, she’s an absolute cuddle monster. The second you’ll let her, she’s buried alongside you, her gentle warmth dissolving into tour achy muscles, your pounding head showered in soft little kisses - even a couple on the lips, if she can sneak them, because, no, love, she doesn’t care about getting sick, she’ll live.

And, of course, she’ll insist on a nice bath with you, seeing as she just wants to see you better, sweetheart. Her getting to snuggle up with you in the tub is definitely just a happy coincidence.

Bathing with Farah is absolutely heavenly. She fills up the tub herself, happily murmuring pleasant little anecdotes and warm comforts into your ears as lukewarm water splashes around behind you. Gently helping you out of your pyjamas (well, her pyjamas, that were practically yours at this point), she dips her foot into the water, feeling the coolish liquid cover her feet. She slowly eases you in, a slight guilt pooling in her heart as you whine about just how cold the water felt. She keeps you buried in her arms throughout, kissing your cheeks and praising you sweetly, even letting you tuck your face against her shoulder.

Once you’re actually in, the bath is a near-perfect affair. Farah keeps you against her chest the entire time, happily kneading at your pained muscles, letting the water wash away the sweat staining your skin. She guides you down softly, supporting your neck with a gentle, rough hand as she dips your hair into the water, letting it wash away the tightness behind your eyes as best it could, easily tasking herself with washing your hair. It’s like she turns into your personal masseuse, looping a leg around your hips to keep you safely tucked against her, stroking delicately through the soft strands of your hair, loving hands brushing against their perfect spot on your scalp, leaving your muscles at a similar consistency to the water you were surrounded by.

She takes to washing your hair easily, lathering each product in her hands and warmly rubbing them in, pressing kisses to your cheeks and forehead between each one (her face occasionally scrunches as the misplaced product stains her mouth, but it’s worth it to see the little contented smile against your lips).

Thankfully, she doesn’t shy away from care elsewhere, either. She easily lathers each skincare product against your prone form, adjusting you gently against her arms to completely cover every inch of your sweet, delicate skin. Of course, each touch is punctuated with a little massage, hoping to soothe each and every inch of your sickly form, along with her fair share of kisses.

Unsurprisingly, getting out of the tub felt like hell. Sure, the water was mildly cold, but you’d adjusted to it, at this point, lazing easily against Farah’s warmth like a cat in the sun. You definitely felt like a wet cat as she eased you up, shivers immediately picking up the second your skin was exposed to the icy-seeming air. A snug, fluffy towel was wrapped around you almost immediately, with Farah swiftly reaching out to crank the heating up - just enough to keep the temperature difference from making your sickness worse.

Farah was quick to herd you into the bedroom, sitting you down on the bed and exchanging the, now damp, towel for a cosy robe she’d bought a while ago, surprisingly still unused.

And, before you could even consider protesting, she was crouched between your legs, gently towelling down the damp skin. She slowly made her way up, from your feet all the way up to your hair, occasionally popping to and from the bathroom, finishing off your skin and hair care.

By the time she’d finished, you were cuddled up in another - notably lighter - pair of her pyjamas, buried safely on her side of the bed, her honeyed scent filling your senses. Your head was pillowed against her chest, eyes trained vaguely before you as she flicked through her movie catalogue, looking for something peaceful yet entertaining.

Eventually, after her careful deliberation, she decides on some lighthearted romcom. It doesn’t particularly matter at this point, though, seeing as you’d conked out before the opening credits had even begun, your soft, purring snores filling the room and bringing a loving smile to her face. Looking after you so delicately had been amazing, but she was absolutely relieved you were finally getting the sleep your body so desperately needed.

Sighing happily, she lays the two of you down, snuggling beneath the covers and kissing you goodnight, easily falling into slumber in her favourite place - cuddled up beside you.

#call of duty #cod #cod mw3 #cod fandom #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #farah karim #cod fic #cod mwii #fangs drabbles #sickness #sickfic #sorta #idk anymore #going feral #just a little #😚#shes so hozier coded dont even #shes literally hozier himself

25 notes · View notes

brain-rot-central · 5 months

Text

My actual life has been stresso-depresso lately so here, come cry with me 🫠

#astarion #astarion angst #bg3 act 2 spoilers #bg3 act 3 spoilers #i don't even have controll of this tavern fic anymore #it's just sad lmao #drabble #fanfiction #tavaria is tav is durge

26 notes · View notes

evansbby · 2 months

Text

You guys I’m posting so many polls to get my engagement up but it’s not like how it used to be before 😂😭😂😂 ever since even before March when i took that month long break for Ramadan, my notifs were so dry n dead and it’s just not how it was before and i wish i could go back in time when everything was lit and fun but i just don’t know what happened it’s like everyone tuned out and then when i took that break, even more people tuned out and no one came back 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

#I hate it here 😭😭😭😭#nobody wants to talk anymore #nobody wants to keep the fandom alive anymore #it’s so sad #I remember I’d get into bed all freshly showered ready for my pre sleep tumblr session lol #now i know there’s no point bc it’s just CRICKETS 🦗#UGHHHJJJJH idk what to do yall im running out of poll ideas #and at first i did also post more of those mini Ari drabbles which got notes but like….#the interaction level remains low #AHHHHHHH IDK MAN I NEVER HAD THIS PRIBLEM BEFORE #i however knew that when i started this blog that one day it would die out #and that day is coming soon i feel it #bro i even posted a snippet of the stepdad Ari thing and CRICKETS #😭😭😂😂😂🥲#anyways #I’m gonna go play with my bratz dolls

14 notes · View notes

heich0e · 2 years

Note

ahhh exes with benefits to lovers with suna

it's silently taking care of each other when one of you is in need to help and never bringing it up, it's knowing each other's regular orders on night outs, it's seamlessly working together on a project because you're amicable exes (not because you had sex to dull down the tension or anything)

suna still brings you coffee to class in the morning

"it's just a habit," he says with a shrug, slumping into his seat beside you as he lets his backpack drop to the floor at his feet. "do you want it or not?"

you order his drink for him at the bar on a night out because you're on good terms with the bartender, and with rin's apathetic nature he's unlikely to be able to flag him down amongst the rowdy friday night crowd anyway--so what's the harm in just getting his too?

"is this-"

"yeah, i made sure they added extra lime."

you're sitting in the cramped confines of his dorm room late one night, cursing out your groupmates who bailed on the project meeting last minute for variously superficial reasons. tensions are already running high when suna makes a snippy comment about your attitude, which you return with an equally biting jibe of your own, and before you know it you're pressed into the throw rug that his roommate bought with suna's hand groping you under your sweatshirt and your legs wrapped around his waist. you get an A on the project because the two of you stay up all night pulling it together, you wrapped in one of his hoodies, splitting energy drinks and snacks that suna shuffled out to get you from the vending machines in the dorm lobby at 1am

"hey."

you jolt a little, catching yourself nodding off.

suna's peering over at you from his desk chair where you sit working on your part of the presentation in his bed. his roommate is spending the night at his girlfriend's apartment but you still feel a bit weird about claiming the desk on the opposite side of the room for yourself, so you're working propped up against suna's headboard.

"if you wanna sleep I can finish up the slides, i'm almost done this part." he points to his own laptop screen where he's cleaning up the bibliography that your other group member had butchered.

you shake your head, exhaustion throbbing behind your eyes.

"i'm fine," you decline the offer, but suna quirks a brow in a way that feels almost accusatory.

"you're falling asleep sitting up."

"i'm fine, suna."

suna, not rintarou, even though it used to be the latter. but things are different now, even if the ache between your legs and the marks hidden under the collar of your hoodie (his hoodie) say otherwise. neither of you have said much since your romp earlier in the evening.

you're not exactly sure what to say.

suna tosses a tiny plush toy shaped like a fox (that you remember him winning from a capsule machine months prior on a date) at you, and it hits you square in the forehead.

"what the fuck, ri-"

"take a 20 minute nap. i'll wake you up." suna doesn't even look up from the screen of his computer as he makes the demand.

your eyes flicker to the time in the upper righthand corner of your screen--you really could use a rest, and would probably be more productive if you did. begrudgingly you set your laptop off to the side, after making sure you've saved your progress on the presentation, burrowing down in the soft material of his hoodie as you curl up against his pillows.

you wake up just before dawn, your laptop closed on rintarou's desk (slides completed), and suna snoring lightly atop his roommate's bed across from you.

#stop this is hurting me #this isn't even a livtarou thing anymore it's just making me pine #liv got mail #writing #hq hcs #hq drabble

446 notes · View notes

euphor1a · 1 year

Text

Jeonghan eats you out on his desk

thirst drabbles (9/∞)

fandom » svt

pairing » jeonghan x f!reader

rating » 18+ (minors dni!)

genre » smut, workplace au, boss au

word count » ~ 1710

warnings » profanity, dom/sub undertones, office sex, dirty talk, sir kink, brief breast play, jeonghan is a biter, fingering, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, long haired jeonghan (... yeah 🥴), hair pulling, lmk if i missed anything!

The dim and warm night lights of his office bounce off the bare skin of your body, illuminating you in a glow that makes Jeonghan dazed. You pant against his firm chest, all your clothes scattered around the office, blindly thrown off by the gorgeous man who rubs your clit over your panties. The soft cotton has soaked through, providing lubrication between the material and your sensitive areas.

This certainly isn’t what you expected when you were notified to join your boss for an overnight shift to sort out some problems right before clocking out. Even for Jeonghan — he has no idea how it got this far, but it happened, and he has no intention of stopping now.

It’s not like he has had a silly little crush on you since forever. And he has definitely never ever daydreamed about things he should not be fantasizing with a junior employee. Thankfully though, none of that matters now. You’re all bare and vulnerable in his arms, shaking and whimpering, entirely under his mercy.

Jeonghan pushes you further back on the smooth mahogany desk, his searching honey browns finally meeting you. However, your immediate response is to lower your eyes, avoiding the gaze that’s intense enough to eat you up. As if for revenge, he removes the hand from your aching core, depriving you of the stimulation. You whine weakly, looking back up to see why he stopped.

A knowing smirk adorns his cherry lips, his eyes tingling with lust and fondness. “Awh, you didn’t like that one bit, huh?” Jeonghan teases, holding your jaw so you can’t look away. Unable to dodge his question, you nod, still very shy. Even though you are in a state like this — he is still your boss.

“Use your words, angel.” He leans down a bit, those long, raven strands of his hair creating a sheer curtain over some parts of his face. You gulp, failing to look away from the enticing sight. How can a human be so good looking?

“C’mon now, baby, put that pretty mouth of yours to use.” Jeonghan tuts, eyes squinting in disapproval. That makes your stomach jump, and you blurt out a very unsure ‘please.’

“Please what?” His smooth chuckle fills up the silent room and you swear your heart skips a beat. You’ve never heard him laugh before. But the sound of it is so effortlessly attractive, you can’t help your own lips curling upwards. He pauses for a split second, a hum reverberating in his throat. “Are you embarrassed? Don’t be, baby. I already got you leaking and all needy, there’s no point of shying away now, yeah?”

Heat rushes your cheeks, because he isn’t lying at all. “Um, Sir—” you begin, struggling to find the right words. Jeonghan wonders if he should ask you to call him by his name, but realizes that the ‘Sir’ is a bigger turn on than he expected. He rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt a bit more, loosening the tie from around his neck. You know he’s testing your sanity, but he just looks so fucking hot doing it.

“Mhm, go on, angel.”

“Please touch me. Please. It hurts.”

Excitement bubbles up in his chest. But he hides it masterfully, scrunching up his face in pity. “Oh no, does it? I’m so sorry to hear that, angel.” Jeonghan lets his right hand stroke along your inner thigh, making you shudder. “Where does it hurt? Lemme make you feel better.”

You consider saying it out loud, but you discard that option almost immediately. So instead, you gently grab on the hand stroking your thigh and place it to cup your clothed pussy. “Fuck,” Jeonghan hisses at the feeling, applying a bit pressure on your cunt, coaxing a moan out of you.

“You’re driving me crazy, baby. And it’s worse because you seem like you don’t know it.” Your boss rasps, pushing you down until your back hits the hardwood. You prop up using your elbows, gasping when he grips the back of your head and finds your lips for a kiss. His other hand slips past the waistband of your underwear, coming in contact with your moist warmth that drips for his attention.

Jeonghan groans in the kiss, slipping his tongue inside your mouth without much resistance from your side. You almost feel like you’re melting, his fingers steadily rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves and getting slathered up in your juices. His tongue is dominant against yours, swirling and slurping, sensitizing you further.

You arch your back, your neglected, erect nipples pressing into his chest. Jeonghan moves the hand from the back of your head, immediately grasping the soft flesh and making you cry out. You pull away from the mind-numbing kiss to catch your breath, eyes a bit teary from all the sensations you feel.

He leans down to touch your foreheads together, his hot breath fanning over your face and his nose nuzzling into yours. Jeonghan has noticed how sensitive and responsive you are to his actions, and it makes his heart swell. As if he isn’t fond of you enough already.

You whimper when he pinches your stiffened nipple between his thumb and index, his lips peppering butterfly kisses on your nose and cheeks. “Am I making you feel good, hm?” Jeonghan catches your earlobe between his teeth, gnawing at it. You nod desperately, gasping when he slips his middle finger into your sopping core.

“Answer me, baby.” Your boss trails wet kisses down your neck, biting down where it meets your shoulders. A strangled moan escapes you, your body buzzing with pleasure.

“Ugh, y-yes, Sir,” You stutter as he wraps his lips around your nipple, his teeth and tongue working wonders together. Jeonghan wishes he could consume you entirely. He leaves bites all over your breasts, his growing bulge pressing into your thigh.

He pulls you in for a messy kiss, another finger entering your cunt. Your cries of pleasure get muffled in his mouth as he increases his speed significantly, loud squelching sounds filling up the office. “Can you hear that, angel? You are so wet for me, swallowing my fingers greedily and squeezing them like a lewd girl.”

You clench at his words, ecstasy building up very rapidly with his fast pumps. It makes you lose the ability to think properly. The way he’s constantly hitting the spots that make you mushy, the way he curls his fingers inside your molten warmth, it’s too much. You are so, so close to—

Jeonghan stops moving his digits, immediately dropping to his knees in front of you. Denied from the obvious upcoming release, your body jolts up, a few tears escaping your eyes. You whine, watching your boss tugging down your absolutely ruined panties.

“Shh, don’t cry, I promise I’m gonna make it up to you.” He tosses away the piece of clothing, finally taking a look at your pussy. “Good. Fucking. Lord,” Jeonghan mutters at the sight, his cock twitching in the confines of his boxers. He has reduced you to an utter mess — clit all swollen; all of your pussy covered with the warm, slippery slick that leaks out of your hole.

Jeonghan licks his lips instinctively, placing both of your legs on his shoulders before leaning in to press a fleeting kiss on your mound. You cover your mouth with your hand, the extreme ache for some sort of stimulation blinding you. On the other hand, he attacks your inner thigh with bites, trying his best to control himself despite the dizzying scent of your arousal that calls for him.

“Please,” you beg, eyes watering once again, “Sir, I can’t.” Jeonghan looks up from between your legs, his hot breath puffing against your aching cunt.

“Don’t hide your face. I wanna see and hear you as you fall apart and gush in my mouth.” You remove your hand immediately, gripping on the side of the desk instead. Satisfied, he locks his lips with your nether ones, suckling on them soundly. His tongue strokes your clit and runs along your slit, your body visibly shaking from relief. A grunt rumbles in his throat. “Fuck, fuck— you taste s’good.”

Jeonghan watches you keenly, the way you twitch and moan, and the way you grip on the desk for dear life. On a whim, he takes your right hand and urges you to grip onto his luscious locks instead. You’re taken aback, but comply anyway, threading your fingers through his hair.

A sudden bite on your clit has you screaming, your fingers tightening and tugging on his hair. Jeonghan growls, and you know that he’s satisfied by the way his lips curl upwards around your pussy. You’re shaking, losing your mind at how good he’s eating you out. Desperate for a release, you wound your other hand in his hair as well, rocking your hips against his face.

Jeonghan slips his tongue inside your cunt as if on approval, his teeth dragging along the raw flesh of your core. His thumb finds your aching clit, rubbing it in tight ‘eight’s, a string of incoherent words leaving you. You pull onto his hair, feeling like you’re going to melt. He can tell that you’re close, the denied orgasm that left you overly sensitive amplifying all the sensations.

Several tears fall from your eyes, body tensing up as the coil inside your lower stomach snaps finally. You scream out his name, gripping onto his hair for dear life, body convulsing with waves of ecstasy. Jeonghan moans at the taste of your sweet release on his tongue, your gummy walls clamping down onto the flexible muscle.

Your body gives up as you lay down on the table, breathing uneven and body shuddering from the aftermath. Jeonghan takes his sweet time slurping up all the precious juices you’ve given him to devour. You lose all your thoughts for several moments, floating through the euphoria.

The sound of his belt buckle brings you back from the seventh heaven. You open your eyes, immediately blessed with the view of your boss’s toned chest and stomach. Feeling your gaze on him, Jeonghan unzips and pulls down his pants, a coy smile on his lips.

“You didn’t think that we’re done here, did you?”

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 author’s notes ꒱

thank you so much for reading <33!! i hope you enjoyed it hehe 🫣! i certainly enjoyed writing it... 🤒; actually i was a mess but hey i made it through saur anyway 🧍🏽‍♀️ apologies for any mistakes left in there!

this was requested by @baljinciaga a while back when i opened up my requests! thank you for the request fren, i hope i could deliver what you asked for~~ “I've been on jeonghan kick lately and this man had the audacity to chop his hair off before I became a fan skdrffyrhfht. Do you think you could do a drabble where he has long hair and you grip it while he's eating you out 😚”!

requests are back to being closed now!

↬ navigation

672 notes · View notes

purpledisastertwin900 · 1 year

Text

This scene WILL not leave me alone

Several things stick out to me from this.

#1: The word “crusade”. This tells us a lot: like earth was DEFINITELY not the first planet they’ve conquered, they’ve been doing this for probs Millenia. So how many peoples/planets have been consumed by the Krang, how many civilizations have been decimated? And, I think it’s interesting he used the word crusade. There’s several different ways I could run with this, so I will. First of all, a crusade is typically a campaign against someone or something else. What are the Krang campaigning against, who are they trying to beat, who could possibly be worse than the Krang?! The other way to think of it, is that the Krang genuinely believe that everyone is better off consumed. They honest to goodness KNOW instinctually that turning everyone in their image is good, is right, is what’s supposed to happen. But who’s to say they haven’t been consumed by smth too?

#2: when he says “a rare misstep”. This implies that while they have experienced setbacks, they haven’t lost yet. Who made them misstep? Did they eventually come back and win?? Is that the pattern that will play out yet again, with Krang Prime somehow escaping the prison dimension? This is low key scary to think ab

And this one’s mostly just me and has no shred of evidence or even basis behind it, but my question is is there more Krang out there? Well no, you’d think, bc they all died in the Prison Dimension the first time. There’s only two left and they’re not coming back. But listen, we may think Krang Prime is the strongest, but would you really send your leader on a crusade? Who would rule back at home, you need a ruler to move the chess pieces. My theory? There are more Krang out there, bigger and badder than the ones we’ve seen.

#yep this still won’t leave me alone #what is happening anymore #where did the Krang even come from #where were they trying to go #SO MANY QUESTIONS AHHHHH #rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #random drabbles #idk just a couple theories #rise raph #tmnt #Krang #Krang prime #technodome

137 notes · View notes

rusmii · 5 months

Text

HIGHKEY will generate controversial opinions. READ IF YOU WANT TO. this is just a rant of mines, and if you don't think you'll agree pls scroll.

some readers (those that don't understand nor are able to sympathize with writers and js expect them to take whatever bs they're anonymously sending) don't know how discouraging it gets when a shit post/tiny drabble you posted gets more attention than your actual writings that you put your blood sweat and tears into 😔😔

ofc im not bashing on drabbles, I do them all the time too, but the decreasing amount of detail that goes into fics are saddening :(

#THE PAIN THAT COURSES THROUGH MY VIENS...#a full length fic could never compare to a drabble anymore😭#[ৎ୭ 𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑦𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒]#this is an annoying reoccurring pattern thats been happening on almost EVERY fanfic platform.#its even more annoying to know that some people dont give two double doggy shits #pls. PLS. start encouraging authors to write what they want to. no matter what it is/'how they choose to format it #tw: ranting #tw: controversial

13 notes · View notes

saetoru · 8 months

Text

what is it about smut that makes me literally talk for ages bc like. now this drabble is turning into a whole fic too what the heck do i do now 🧍🏽‍♀️

#like when it’s just a fluff drabble #i can keep it short #but #every time i try to write something remotely scandalous #i’m like ok i gotta give this backstory #and oh we gotta have this scene to establish this detail #oh but i can’t forget that 12 years ago this happened so now that’s why that happened which led to this #and of course there’s the fact that they both have this and that and #boom #now i’m 4k words in #not remotely close to the sex scene i had in mind #and now i’m not even in the mood to write smut anymore and i have like #18273 scenes left to work out and #WHY #why do i do this to myself

53 notes · View notes

camels-pen · 7 months

Text

mmm read a hurt/comfort Zoro fic recently and like. I get it now. That guy DOES hurt so pretty. kinda wanna try my hand at it.

A voice disappeared.

Zoro stopped in his tracks, feet rooted to the spot.

Who was it? Where? How-?

Just barely, he managed to block a blade aiming for his neck.

Luffy was ahead of him, laughing his head off. The cook was a bright flaming beacon in the sky.

The rest? C'mon take a count, Zoro. Make sure.

Usopp. Nami. Chopper. Jinbei. Robin. Cook. Luffy.

What? Two? No, where were-

His breath hitched as he blocked another attack.

Calm down. Take a breath. Count again.

Usopp. Nami. Robin. Cook. Luffy.

Fuck. They couldn't-

No, they had to have left the battlefield. These guys were smallfry, even for the so called "weakling trio".

Zoro took a moment to focus on the enemy around him. He let off a tatsumaki before focusing again.

One at a time, Zoro. Come on.

Usopp.

Robin.

Sanji.

Zoro jerked, eyes wide and searching frantically.

"No, no no no no no. He can't have-" Luffy would never leave before the battle was done, not without making some kind of grand exit. He wouldn't leave without telling Zoro- telling anyone- about it.

He wouldn't up and disappear into thin air like that. Not unless-

Zoro shook his head roughly. They were fine, he just couldn't see them. It would be too much of a coincidence for them all to disappear like that. He just needed to count again, then regroup with Usopp, Robin, and the cook, and figure out what was going on.

Stay calm, Zoro. Losing your head won't find your friends.

So, again, Zoro breathed. And Zoro counted.

Usopp.

The only voice left, was Usopp.

Zoro wasted no time.

He sprinted as fast as he could, cutting down anyone in front of him almost as an after thought, as he bulldozed towards Usopp's voice.

He'd nearly made it too, when some dead man kicked his side hard enough to stop him in his tracks.

Zoro turned to him, a snarl on his face. "Get out of my way before I kill you."

"Huh?" The man sneered. "I should be saying the same thing, watch where you swing those swords, asshole."

Zoro was about to retort when he noticed Usopp's voice moving away from him. He didn't have time for this.

Without warning, Zoro moved to slice through his opponent and, to his surprise, the man blocked it with ease.

"You wanna go? Here and now?" the man growled. "I'll kick your fucking ass."

This man- Zoro has never met him before, but nonetheless felt he would need to pay him his full attention to have a chance at winning.

But Usopp was getting farther and farther-

Oh, Zoro could hit himself.

"USOPP!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, startling the man. "STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE, I'LL BE THERE SOON!"

Usopp didn't respond, but he stopped moving, and that was good enough for now.

"Hey!" The man yelled, pressing down on Zoro's swords. "Whatever you need him for can wait until after our battle's over. He's got his own problems to deal with."

Zoro didn't bother wasting his breath. He cut and slashed, throwing attack after attack without abandon. It didn't matter if he was wasting his energy, he needed to get to Usopp before- before-

The man, infuriatingly, blocked almost every blow, and got a few hits in on Zoro himself.

Zoro would get to Usopp, even if it killed-!

Suddenly, there was a crackle in the air and all at once, Zoro's nerves lit up with pure unfiltered pain.

He dropped to his knees, blurry vision wavering on black shoes. He couldn't feel his arms. Or his face. And his head was getting lighter and lighter.

Zoro's fading thoughts were prayers, to a god he didn't believe in, to keep his friend safe.

"GYAHHH, ZORO'S GONNA KILL ME!"

"Nami-swan, a little help please?" Sanji said, voice uncharacteristically strained.

"If you're asking, how can I say no?" Nami said, smirking. "Get out of the way... now!" The moment Sanji pushed off Zoro's swords to hop away, she brought down her Thunderbolt Tempo on top of Zoro. He fell to his knees before crumbling to the ground, twitching.

"You could've knocked him out on your own though, why ask for my help?" Nami asked.

"Ah well, it seemed he had a couple screws loose and I didn't want to kill what little braincells were remaining." Nami nodded in understanding.

The two of them turned to Usopp as he inched his way closer. He carefully prodded Zoro's thigh with his boot. "He's really unconscious, right? Not gonna get up anytime soon?"

Nami shrugged. "It's always hard to tell with him. But don't worry," -she stood tall, holding out her Climatact- "I'll shock him as many times as necessary."

"That means I get to live another day, so you have the Usopp deal of approval." Usopp gave her a thumbs up.

"What'd you even do to get him so pissed at you, Usopp?" Nami asked.

"Nothing!" He paused and looked away. "Well, nothing recently."

"He wasn't just mad," Sanji said. "He looked..." Scared, Sanji wanted to say. But the word was so... simple. Too simple. And it didn't explain the desperation in his eye. The wet sheen. The way he hardly blinked.

The way he kept himself facing the direction Usopp was in, revealing his constant use of Haki.

This wasn't just Zoro scared. This was Zoro terrified.

And Sanji had never seen him terrified before.

"...off," Sanji settled on, furrowing his brow. "He looked off."

Nami and Usopp hummed in thought.

The three of them stared down at Zoro's prone body. An ominous dark puddle started growing under him.

The three of them sighed.

"I'll call Chopper-" Usopp felt a tug on his ankle. He looked down. Zoro's hand was holding his boot. "I thought you said he was unconscious!" he yelled, trying to break his grip unsuccessfully.

Sanji poked Zoro with his shoe. Zoro didn't move. "He's still unconscious, so you're gonna have to be his teddy bear."

"What?! No!" He gripped onto Sanji's shirt. "Sanji-kun pleaaaaase free me before my ankle's crushed in his sleep!"

Sanji rolled an eye. "You'll be fine."

"Then can you go get Chopper? Zoro's losing a lot of blood."

"The mosshead'll be fine too. Also," -Sanji pointed to Luffy and Chopper doing some kind of strange combo attack, with Chopper in Heavy Point using Luffy as a whip- "I don't wanna break up their fun."

"Sanji-kun," Nami piped up. "Go get Chopper, please."

"Of course, Nami-swan!" Sanji immediately ran off.

The two of them quietly watched him go.

"Did you see what caused this?" Usopp asked.

Nami shook her head. "I know about as much as you do: Zoro suddenly taking out a big group at once and then charging towards you." She bit her lip. "I don't think he recognized Sanji."

Usopp sighed, squatting down to pull the bandana from green hair. He stared at the slackened face of his friend, hands tightening in dark fabric.

"What happened to you, Zoro?"

#one piece #roronoa zoro #nemo the writing ho #oh crap i think i accidentally started a multi-chapter when i meant o write a drabble aaaaa #the gist of this is. devil fruit or marine weapon or something. fucks with zoros head. so he thinks his crew has disappeared one by one #and its like. a subtle thing. which is why nobody notices until Zoros bulldozing toeards Usopp #tbh i have no clue where to go from here i just wanted to cause him some hurt #ack. this has not enough zoro pain #ah well. late night drabbles are. well. late night drabbles.#ohhh perhaps. perhaps even after this whole thing is resolved. zoro has hella trouble sleeping.#bc hes afraid he'll fall asleep and he eont be able to hear his friends voices anymore #so he takes as many night watches as possible. he doesnt take naps anymore. stays up even without having watch #all this just to obsessively check and recheck his Haki.#and then visit each and every one of them to confirm with his own eye that they were still here. still alive #haha yeah. itd probably take awhile to be comfortable enough to sleep again #maybe the only way he feels safe to do so at first is to be in a huge pile with his friends sleeping on or around him #oh fuck now im making myself hella sad #okay thats enough for tonight its bed time

10 notes · View notes