#this is why i shouldn’t do things in advance! ANYWAY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr has been banned in Indonesia for providing people with access to pornographic content.

#this is why i shouldn’t do things in advance! ANYWAY

coryosbaby · 5 months

Text

—Envy

synopsis: your jealousy gets the best of you.

♡ content warning . Mentions of murder, possessiveness, oral, cum play, plinth! reader

“I want to know why you did it.”

Your boyfriend’s voice rings out through your shared room in the capital, an octave lower and in a teasing lilt— maybe not a tone that a normal person who’s discussing murder should have, but nothing about your or Coriolanus’ relationship can be defined as normal.

You know the answer to Coriolanus’ question, though you don’t want to say it. A pout glazes your plump glossed lips as you think back to the scene that has started this conversation.

—

You remember Clemensia’s stupid ponytail, her stupid face, and the way her stupid sharp nails dug into Coriolanus’ shoulder the day before. She was asking to be in that room with you the next day— literally.

It was a class project. One that was for advanced students only, a one-by-one sort of assignment. You were Dr. Gaul’s personal assistant, the youngest ever— although, partner seemed to describe your dynamic with her better. You and Dr. Gaul went way back, and she trusted you.

You and Clemensia were in that brightly lit room you were oh so familiar with. Papers and folders were strewn around a desk nearby— and you and her were both alone. The body of snakes swimming throughout the small pool in the middle of the room had been enticing to stick your hand into. You remember Clemensia’s surprised look of awe as she watched you take one of the snakes trustfully into your grasp. It dripped water but it was beautiful. Its fangs scraped against you, almost teasing. It wanted to stick its teeth into your skin— you knew it did. But you trusted the snakes, and they trusted you. They would not be eating their handler anytime soon.

But maybe they would be eating something else.

Clemensia crouched in your same position; you were on your knees, gently rubbing your cheek against the snake’s rainbow scales. It whispered to you, lulling with soft hisses.

“Would you like to hold it?” You had asked her. “They enjoy a good petting every now and again.”

Clemensia had chuckled nervously, and you could tell by her body language that she was on edge.

“Don’t be silly, [y/n] plinth,” she had answered bleakly. “That snake would surely kill me.”

You remember turning to her. You could remember her brows furrowing, the softness of her skin. Coriolanus liked nice skin.

“I know.” You had said, and the rest was a blur.

A restling of limbs, your hands gripping tightly in her hair. There was splashing, gurgling, snakes crowding the surface. Her whole body had become submerged in that pool, and then you remembered that you had forgot to feed the snakes that day.

—

Thinking about it now, maybe you were a bit dramatic. Coriolanus has made his love for you very clear. There was no reason for such atrocities because of a girl he wasn’t even dating. But they had grown too close, and it had scared you.

Not to mention her excessive gossip about your fashion choices, which really pissed you off. Coriolanus shouldn’t have become friends with her, anyway.

“I told you,” You groan, watching him take a seat across from you. His shirt buttons are undone, just how you like them. “ I didn’t do it. She slipped.”

He doesn’t reply, and you groan.

“Why are you acting as if you didn’t do the same exact thing to that boy from economics class a few months ago, Coryo?”

“He was a complete dick, [y/n]. And a pervert. That was different.”

“I’m sure it was.”

Although Coriolanus should be disturbed, or quite possibly angered with you, he isn’t. You two tell too many secrets to judge. He doesn’t exactly have room to tell you who you should and shouldn’t kill with his past history.

And even so, the boy doesn’t have any room to care for Clemensia’s passing. She isn’t you, so it doesn’t matter.

After a moment of silence, Coriolanus sighs heavily. His thighs spread, and he leans back in his chair.

“But why…” he starts quietly, contemplating, as if this is funny guessing game. “Aren’t you going to tell me why?”

He knows the reason. He’s not stupid, and never has been. But he loves to tease.

“No.”

“Mmm…”

He turns his head to the side. His blonde curls have grown back, and for that you are incredibly grateful because they’re messy and make him look even more attractive. His eyes catch sight of a framed picture beside your bed— you and him, sitting at a shared desk in class. You were smiling at the camera, your favorite outfit on, and Coriolanus was only looking at you.

Smirking, Coriolanus lifts himself up from his chair. Your brows furrow in confusion as he approaches you, his tall form almost intimidating. His smell invades your senses as he leans over your shoulder to whisper into your ear.

“Was it jealousy?”

His tone is dark, flirtatious, and his breath is hot on the shell of your ear. Heat creeps up your neck— no matter how many times he speaks to you in this low tone of voice, it never fails to make your shiver.

You chuckle, your thighs squeezing together when his fingers grip tightly onto your shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply. Your head turns to him, and he’s so close that you can feel his steady breathing. “Besides, I didn’t do it. Like I said— she slipped.”

“Liar.” He says punctually. His fingers grip your chin suddenly, and his grip is harsh. “You didn’t like me with her, did you?”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, and Coriolanus’ fingers stroke your shoulder softly.

“Did you think she was pretty?” You ask. The boy chuckles, slowly pressing a wet kiss to your jugular that makes something electric zigzag its way through your body.

“No. The only woman who’s pretty to me is you.”

That makes you let out a small sound, and Coriolanus’ body moves to the front of your chair. He falls to his knees, then, the candlelight near the both of you making him look ever so beautiful. His fingers ghost over your skirt, and you whine, squirming in your seat. He pinches the hem, and lifts up the cotton fabric over your thighs. Cute pink panties are shown to him, and he lets out a groan.

“You’re so perfect.” He mutters. He leans in, his breath fanning over you, but he doesn’t get as close as you want. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Coryo,” you whine, bucking up your hips. “Please. Please eat my pussy.”

He looks up at you, his gaze dark and glazed over with lust.

“Kiss me.” He demands, and you have no choice but to obey. Your hands settle into his golden locks, pulling him up further on his knees so he can gain access to your plump, hot mouth. Your lips slot against his, and it isn’t long before his tongue is grazing the soft flesh. His teeth bite down, nibbling on your lips with ferocious hunger as his fingers dig crescent moons into your thighs. Pulling away, your hands rest on his shoulders. Coriolanus grabs one of them, pulling you so far down that your forehead touches his as he presses your palm against the bulge tight in his pants.

“Do you think Clemensia could make me feel this way, angel? Could make my cock so hard?” He says, and his breath is hot against your open mouth as he utters his next words. “I’m yours.”

You yank your hand away, pulling him into another hot and heated kiss. But not before he’s pulling himself away and sliding your panties down your legs, mouthing at your inner thighs again as your pussy is exposed to him. Coriolanus practically drools, spreading your thighs and shoving his tongue inside your tight, aching hole. His big hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth. He drinks up your slick with vigor, moaning against your clit as he devours you. Your mouth drops open, whimpers spilling out of you.

“Coryo,” you cry. His tongue moves from your hole to your clit, and he wraps his lips around the swollen bud as your hips buck up into his face.

He hums, savoring the taste of your nectar and grinding his hardened cock into the open air. He slurps into your cunt with everything he has and when you cum around him he drinks up your spend, too. His cock is still aching when he’s done and when he pulls away and wipes his pretty mouth on the back of his sleeve your gesture for him to stand up.

He smiles, watching as you grab his hips and pull them towards your face. You undo his belt, watching the straining fabric as your mouth waters. You pull out his hardened cock, the tip flushed red and dripping precum, and press a light kiss to the tip. Coriolanus shutters, letting out a tiny breath of air as he watches you press kiss upon lipstick stained kiss to his thick length. After a moment he grabs your hair and gently pulls you back from his cock.

“No,” he murmurs, when you try to put your mouth back on it again. “This is about me now, not you. Now open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

Brows furrowing while you try not to pout, you lean back and do as the man says. Your lashes flutter as you watch him tower over you, putting his legs on either side of the chair and holding himself up with one strong, muscle-ey arm. You let out a tiny whine in your throat as he holds his cock over your face and begins to stroke himself. You watch how swollen he is, how desperate he is to cum, the way his balls sit against his skin and look desperate to be emptied. He lets out small breathy moans as he rubs himself up and down, his head thrown back and his lip caught in between his teeth. What a beautiful sight.

He grunts when he looks down and sees drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth.

“Hungry for it, aren’t you?” He chastises. “I know. Poor little girl loves drinking up my cum. Don’t worry, baby, you’re gonna get some soon.”

Your head becomes fuzzy, your tongue reaching out to graze just a sliver of his cock. But he’s quick to use his length to slap your cheek, a warning growl sounding from his lips.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” He asks you. “Keep fucking still, and don’t touch me.”

You pout, your mouth closing in the process, and Coryo fumes. He grabs your chin, forcing your mouth back open grabbing your tongue with his fingers. He presses it down onto your teeth, and begins to furiously jack his cock.

“You never fucking listen.”

You want to smile but you know you can’t. When Coriolanus’ hips thrust particularly hard into the open air, you know he’s about to be close. You push out your tongue even more, watching his tip begin to spew white creamy cum onto your flushed face. He grunts, the sight of your fucked out body covered in the sticky substance making his cock kick one last time before he goes soft. You look up at him with heavy breaths, your mouth open as you lick your lips and taste him on you. His thumb brushes against a puddle of his spend, and he brings it up to your mouth.

“Now clean it up, brat.”

#Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow x reader #Coriolanus snow x fem! reader #Coriolanus snow smut #thg #the hunger games #hunger games #the hunger games fanfic #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic #dom! Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow fanfic

2K notes · View notes

q1ngqve · 3 months

Note

hi!! same anon here you dont have to take this as a request bc i just wanted to get this out of my chest yandere or at least obssesive averatio where both overstim the hell out of reader (lowkey mindbreak if you're comfy about that??) after reader rejects their advances NOT OUT OF HATE or anything but bc their insecurities got the best of them and either thought the two were just messing w them or they have abandonment issues (i do not have the second one whatever do you mean i am not projecting do not percieve me) no offense to these two but they look like the ppl to mess w your heart n leave you to rot

mb some predator/prey (they both hunt you down after you avoid them both and as ratio wisely said "what do you do with a cornered prey? hunt it to death" AUGHAHSGA) aphrodisiacs, drugging, etc. anyways after that you best bet you'll be too dumb to ever think of something as stupid as that, and sure, yes ratio hates idiots but well..... you will be the only exception given how cute you look all fucked out and broken on their bed with their cocks deep inside you <3

SKLDJALSDJAL HELP i feel awfully embarrassed w writing this lmao scuse me while i bleach my head.

i am very sorry this took so long </3 i wrote this as a fic at first but i lost motivation so now it’s just in the form of brain rot :(

oh no :( poor reader with insecurities from your past relationships thinking every man out there is a liar, especially the two that gave their hearts to you :( running away from them is a smart move because we don’t trust men in this household!

but you forget how annoying they can be when it comes to getting what they want, and they want you (´▽｀) so don’t be surprised when you find yourself feeling scared out of your mind walking home alone and feeling like you’re being watched! or when you find certain luxury items randomly appearing in your room! or the slightest hint of their cologne when you wake up every morning! because you asked for this by running away 😵‍💫

this was supposed to be holiday for you — coming to penacony, but the headache and blurry room before you has you panicking! you best know that no one is coming to save you when you’re running through the reverie hotel like a lost bunny when you receive a letter saying they’ll have you tonight! and if you think you had any chance of escape, you’re so wrong 😖

oh, and don’t let them know that you’re afraid, it only spurs them on! hunting you down through the corridors of the hotel is so adrenaline inducing for them <3 running shouldn’t be so hard though, so why do you feel as if your legs are going to give out any second? oh right, the drink! they probably drugged it, seems like something they would do

an exasperated gasp leaves you when you finally let your body fall, eyes closing, preparing for impact. and the next thing you know you wake up, hands tied above you to the headboard, your body completely bare. you’d struggle with all your might, soft whines sounding at the back of your throat when you spot the two of them hiding in the shadows, staring down at you with those bright, lust-filled eyes

oh, you’re so dead

your body feels like it’s on fire, desperately needing release, needing someone to touch you, anyone. your voice betrays you as whimpers leave you when they stalk towards you, their burning gaze not helping with the burning sensation.

you really did think you could escape! so why’re you here, tied and unable to move? tears fall as you lock eyes with veritas ratio, your fight or flight kicking in when he reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping the tears away. laughter sounds from aventurine on the other side of the bed, you’re just so naive! all he wants to do is to love and break you until you’re a sobbing mess beneath him 😵‍💫 so don’t blame him when he kisses you, he just can’t help it anymore, not when you’re already shaking when all they did was drug your drink and reveal themselves to you after months of stalking :(

the aphrodisiac is making you incredibly sensitive to their touch, which is perfect for them because that would mean hearing your sweet cries of pleasure! you best prepare yourself though, because they’re not stopping until you’re about to pass out 🧎🏻‍♀️ they haven’t had you for months, nobody is going to stop them from worshipping you, not even yourself.

you’ll be so overstimulated by the end of the night that even just innocent touches can have you whining and trembling like a leaf (^^)

“you really think you can run from us?” — veritas ratio

“who you knew you were so filthy, hmm? you wanted us to hunt you down, didn’t you? dirty, dirty girl.” — veritas ratio

“missed you so much, pretty girl.” — aventurine

“stop? now why would we do that? you’re clearly enjoying this. look at you, making such a mess on my cock.” — aventurine

474 notes · View notes

carakook · 2 months

Text

Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°

“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”

→ Chapters list ←

⚘4. Spring Is Gone

🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

⚘Synopsis: After being granted with “closure”, you try to enjoy your last night with Jungkook. It’s an emotional and fucking steamy mess.

⚘Genre:Forbidden love

⚘Word count: 13K+ 🥴

⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of cheating, active cheating, HEAVY smut, mouth spitting, wine kissing (idk if it’s actually called this but it’s what I have always called it LMAO), crying during sex, emotional sex, EMOTIONAL EVERYTHING YOU WILL CRY I AM WARNING YOU, grief, breaking up (sort of?), panic/anxiety attacks, alcohol, stealing (lol it’s kinda cute you’ll see,) making love (different from fucking), sort of rough, unprotected sex (always be careful, Y/N is on BC!), SAD JUNGKOOK I REPEAT SAD JUNGKOOK!!!! let me know if I miss anything there is a lot in this chapter.

⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

⚘A/N: The long awaited chapter. This is a long one. I cried. A lot. Holy shit? It’s actually so sad lol but also has some good smut. This isn’t the last chapter, as I said before this is a full on fanfic, I also have it on Wattpad but it gets barely any reads so if you are interested in that let me know. After this chapter, things get very… drama filled? Idk a good word for it lol. I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry in advance if you cry. I highly recommend listening to the songs, each of them have a place in every chapter which is why I list them lol. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy. Love you.❤️

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :

♪Merry Go - DPR Ian

♪Gimmie Love - Joji

♪The Astronaut - JIN

♪Dope Lovers - DPR Ian

♪sex money feelings die - Lykke Lie

♪Angel - The Weeknd

♪Nerves - DPR Ian

♪505 - Arctic Monkeys

♪I Love You So - The Walters

♪Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex

♪Cry - Cigarettes After Sex

✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧

Since you both agreed on enough of the heavy shit, you spend time together. The mood is heavy for some time, almost awkward, which is why you break out the several bottles of wine you bought this week in an attempt to cope with the end of you and your flower. You’d much rather drink it with him anyway.

You can always buy more.

The wine helps. After you’ve both had a glass, it feels less strained. You continue eating pizza and watching whatever sappy drama is on TV. He picks up on his rant, starts explaining how sex is definitely comparable to pizza; sex creates life, and without sex, we wouldn’t have discovered pizza. Makes total sense. It’s stupid, but he has a point—a very Jungkook thing to think up.

By the time you’re both three glasses deep, you’re a bit wine-drunk. He holds his liquor much better than you do, but you can tell he’s feeling all fuzzy inside. You check your phone as he sits sprawled out on your couch, taking up almost the entire damn thing with his bulky ass. It’s nearly 11:30 pm… around the time he should probably go home.

You glance at him, debating whether to subtly kick him out or not. You don’t want to, god no. It literally makes you sick thinking about it. But you shouldn’t let him stay either, should you? You’re supposed to end this. This was the last night.

But you see how content he looks—like a big, overgrown spoiled dog with a belly full of treats, relaxing next to his favorite person.

You did say one last night… technically the night isn’t over. And he shouldn’t drive in this state, really, if anything, it’s just for his safety…

So you nudge his leg with your foot, and he turns his head lazily towards you, arches a brow, “Hm?”

“Sleep over?”

Oh, he fucking grins. His dimples on show, his eyes crinkling up adorably, and his big bunny like teeth saying hi.

Because what you don’t realize is he wasn’t going to leave. Fuck no. You said one last night, and he was going to milk that for everything it was. No way in hell was he going to go home tonight. If he’s being frank, that’s why he drank three glasses of wine. He didn’t need it. But he knew he could use it as a loophole to staying the night. You wouldn’t let him drive drunk.

He knows damn well what he’s doing, and he’s elated that you offered to let him stay. It means you want him here.

Even after all the bullshit, you still want him here. You want to prolong it, too.

“Hell yeah.”

He winks and then leans up a bit to stretch, causing his shirt to lift and give you the most indulgent peak of his stomach. You shamelessly stare, and he absolutely notices, lifting his arms a bit higher just to give you a better look.

He loves it when you look at him like that.

But then he stands up, casually grabs his car keys from the coffee table, as if he isn’t fucking teasing you.

Fuck. The wine is definitely kicking in. The warm fuzzies in your tummy are spreading elsewhere.

“Gonna go grab some stuff from my car then, make sure it’s locked, I’ll be right back.”

You hum in response and lean back into the couch. Watch him as he walks out the door, and find comfort in the fact that you know he’s coming back… even if it’s the last time.

Jungkook is doing his best not to let his mind wander to the more damning thoughts as he walks out of your complex and into the parking lot. Because he feels the opposite, no comfort at all. His anxiety is spiked now that you’re out of sight. What if you don’t let him in when he makes his way back to you? What if you change your mind about the sleepover? What if you decide you hate him?

Not only that, but he feels like he’s wasting precious time. As if the five minutes he will be away from you (barely) are irreplaceable and he’s just wasting them. It’s literally the end of the world… he shouldn’t be wasting time.

But that’s just his anxiety speaking. In truth, he doesn’t actually need the things in his car… but he packed a few things before showing up unannounced—things he wanted to leave you with.

Such as the little Polaroid camera you bought for him months ago, one that you yourself have used every single time you’re together. You always snap little candid pictures of him, sometimes yourself. He finds your fascination with the thing so fucking cute. He uses it, too, of course. He often takes pictures of you without you even knowing it… and you’ve both definitely taken some more raunchy pictures, pictures that he keeps hidden away in a box for when he misses your touch. For his eyes only. They’re priceless to him, probably some of his most prized possessions.

Speaking of those photos, he also packed a box full of them just for you. Pictures you’ve taken of him, of both of you, of anything and everything. He wants you to have them, wants you to be able to look at them when you miss him a little too much. He went through the photos over the last few days of no contact, greedily picked out his favorites, and put them into his own box for the same purpose. But he picked a generous amount out for you, too.

And as corny as it may sound, he packed a few pieces of his clothing. He knows how much you love stealing his shit, especially his shirts. Several are still missing, but he won’t ask for them back. He’Ll gift you with more, made sure to spray his cologne on them too, so that you can smell him on them. He packed his favorite shirt, hoodie, and something he will reluctantly, but willingly, part with. His denim jacket.

All of them are Calvin Klein branded. The shirt is basic, just a black shirt that’s fitted on him but swallows you whole. It’s the one you often steal when you sleep over at his second apartment, but he never let you take it home because it was his favorite. It’s worn in and soft, that’s why he likes it. But it’s yours now, just like him.

The hoodie is the same, basic black, one that you always tried to steal but never succeeded in doing so. It’ll be like a warm hug when you miss him, he thinks. You’ll love it more than he will. You’ll need it more than him on nights that you feel lonely.

The jean jacket isn’t anything special in appearance. It’s dark denim but is lined in that soft wool that keeps you warm and cozy. He wore it often in the cold months, thought it made him look handsome, but also kept him comfy. He’d rather you have it. He wants to keep you warm forever, hold you in his arms and never let go, make sure you never feel cold again… but he can’t exactly do that. So instead, he’ll give you his jacket.

The last thing is one of his chains. God, he knows you love those damn chains. He almost always wears one, silver or gold, depending on the day. And you always make sure to tell him how much you like them. He never really understood it; it’s something so simple. But you swooned for it. After you guys fuck, you’re always touching it, playing with it. Even when you guys aren’t fucking, you seem to have the impulse to touch it. Maybe it’s a girl thing, he doesn’t know. But he’s giving you one since you liked it so much.

Definitely a girl thing.

He also brought the bottle of perfume you dropped on his floor that night you stormed off… he was going to give it back. Return it to its rightful owner. But as he’s grabbing the bag full of goods out of his car… he impulsively takes it out. Wants to keep it. Wants to be able to smell you, too. He’s sure you won’t miss it.

You won’t miss that perfume as much as he’s going to miss you.

He quickly grabs the bag of stuff, nearly dropping it as he grows more restless because he’s not with you right now. You’re too far away, and every single second counts tonight.

So he rushes back into your complex building, nearly full-on sprinting back to your door.

As he lets himself back in, you’re in the exact same position. Sitting comfy on the couch, eyes on the TV, your wine glass a bit more empty now. Thank fuck.

He wasn’t even gone for more than four minutes. And yes, you did notice, you didn’t like it. But you knew he’d come back. So you waited. Wasn’t a big deal.

He’s just dramatic, for good reason of course. You can see the unease written all over his face as he pads his way back towards you, sets the bag next to your couch. He doesn’t disclose what’s in it and you don’t ask, you just assume it’s the bag he usually keeps in his car for impromptu nights like this.

He doesn’t want to present these little gifts to you yet… because he feels like that’s what’s going to really finalize it. So he’ll wait a little longer.

Would put it off forever if he could.

He takes a seat next to you, obnoxiously close. Your couch isn’t big, but there’s enough for two people to have a comfortable distance from each other. He doesn’t care. He wants to make sure he’s touching you in some way, so he nearly squishes you as he sits down as casually as ever and slings one of his arms on the back of your couch so that his fingertips rest on your shoulder.

He has an almost jittery energy about him right now. Obviously, emotions are heavy; it’s your last night together. It’s kind of hard to act totally ok and normal when you’re both well aware that this is the last night. But even then, somethings a bit off.

You study him for a moment, notice how he’s running his teeth over his lip ring again, how his leg is bouncing up and down a bit even as he tries to mimic a relaxed position on the couch. Maybe he’s anxious?

He is. However, that’s not what this is all about. He wants to kiss and touch you so badly it hurts. But now he’s unsure if he’s allowed. He doesn’t know what’s on and off limits tonight, and he doesn’t want to jeopardize your time together by fucking it up and making unwanted advances.

Overthinking. He wishes he didn’t do that. But he doesn’t even realize it’s happening until after things are said and done, doesn’t know how to stop it.

You assume maybe it’s just nervous energy thanks to the impending sense of doom you both feel. You feel similarly… but you hide it better.

More wine would help, you think.

So you lean forward and grab the bottle which is half empty, this is the second bottle of tonight. You top off each of your glasses as Jungkook watches, and you take a sip.

His eyes stay glued to your lips. He loves your lips. Loves all of you, but especially your lips. He thinks that will be one of the things he misses the most. How soft and pillowy they are, how they’re a bit rosey in color, how they taste, how they pout out a bit when you drink wine, how wine stains your lips so prettily, how they feel wrapped around his—

Yeah. Fuck it. One last night.

“Gimmie some.”

You glance at him and arch a brow, wonder if he’s referring to the wine… or maybe pizza? You literally just topped his wine glass off. He’s being weird.

“I just topped you off?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, I want yours.”

You scoff at him because now he’s just being childish. But he’s looking at you so expectantly, almost stubbornly, as if he’s asking for something more than the wine he’s demanding.

And he is. He doesn’t even really know what though. He’s being greedy, wants your wine because your lips touched the glass, because remnants of your spit might have melted into the wine after taking sips. He doesn’t want his own damn wine.

He wants to be greedy tonight. It’s not like he has anything to lose, he’s already lost it all.

So he reaches over and takes the wine glass from you, gets a bit impatient when he sees you aren’t gonna give it to him right away. He takes a slow sip, places his lips in the same exact spot yours have been every time you’ve taken a drink. It’s ridiculous, really… but he swears he tastes the faintest essence of you on the glass. Closes his eyes, swishes the wine around in his mouth, trying to see if he can taste more of you…

Ok, so, he’s definitely being a bit ridiculous. But fuck, he already feels like he’s going crazy. Can’t really help himself when he is desperately craving any little crumb of you.

You don’t know what to make of this. Part of you is amused, part of you is irritated, because he just stole your damn wine. But you also know there must be more to it, there has to be.

He cracks an eye open, sees you staring at him like he’s crazy, because he kinda is. Only for you, of course. He just swallows the wine and shrugs innocently.

“Yours is better, mine tastes weird.”

You roll your eyes at him because he has the same wine as you do. You can’t figure out what his game is here. So you reach over and take his wine and say, “Yours is literally the same as mine.”

To prove a point you take a sip of his. Just as expected, tastes the exact same as yours. He watches you carefully… gets an idea. An incredibly impulsive,almost intrusive idea.

But again… it’s the last night. And he’s greedy.

You huff at him and point his wine glass (which is now yours apparently) at him as you watch him take a huge gulp out of your glass again.

“Yeah, see, tastes the exact-“

He abruptly grabs the nape of your neck and cups your jaw with his free hand, his thumb coming to rest on your bottom lip and lowering it. He places his lips on yours, waits until your mouth instinctively opens just as it always does for him, and then funnels the wine into your mouth.

Fucking feeding you the wine like a baby bird.

It catches you by surprise at first, causing you to cough a bit and causing the wine to dribble down your chin, but you quickly gulp it down just like he gulps down the little gasp and cough you let out. He kisses you greedily, doesn’t even build up to it before he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth and swirling it against yours, tasting the heady mixture of wine and you. Fuck, you’re his favorite taste.

You don’t protest; of course you don’t. Was definitely a bit bizarre, but also… fuck, that was hot. Was a bit weird but in a super sexy way. You kiss him back, letting out little huffs of air into his mouth as one of your hands also finds the nape of his neck. The other hand automatically rests against his chest, clings to the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You both stay like this as long as possible. The kiss only grows more desperate and aggressive, teeth and tongue clashing beautifully together like thunder and rain. Your soft pants turn into eager breathes at some point, and he knows you need to breathe. But fuck, he wants to stay lip locked with you until he passes out.

This is when you start to second-guess things. Yes, this is the last night together… but knowing it’s ending makes the guilt a bit more prominent. This wouldn’t be ending if it wasn’t wrong, but it is wrong; sleeping with him again just seems so contradictory or maybe even hypocritical.

So you push at his chest lightly, a silent signal for him to slow down. God, he hates the way his stomach lurches. Can’t fathom the idea that you might kick him out right now. Please, god, don’t do this. I’m not a weed, I swear, I’m her fucking flower. I need her one more time, he silently prays even though he’s never been religious or prayed before.

When he pulls back with heavily lidded eyes, you speak up hesitantly, even though you don’t wanna stop, god not at all.

“Kook, we shouldn’t…”

That’s all you say. Because it’s really that simple. You shouldn’t be doing this; you should never have done it at all. But even then, you lack the ability to convince him. Because you want him, one last time. You’re just having a hard time willingly giving in again.

Jungkook knows you well. Knows your body language. He knows that if you truly wanted him to stop, you would’ve been more self assured when speaking. You wouldn’t sound like a meek little mouse, you’d be firm in telling him know. He can see the same thing in your eyes, it’s pure unadulterated want. But maybe you need reassurance, reassurance that one last time is ok, is needed.

You’ve both sinned so much already, one more time won’t change shit.

So his grasp on your jaw firms up a bit, he starts feeling a little too passionate about this. He coaxes your mouth open by smooshing your cheeks a bit before saying,

“Y/N, fucking don’t. Just let us have this, please.”

“But Kook-“

He grunts in frustration. Just as impulsively as he fed you wine kisses, he spits in your mouth. It makes you flinch, makes your pussy clench because fuck it’s so filthy but so hot. So intimate in a sort of fucked up way.

“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”

He leans back down and starts kissing you again, licking into your mouth and adding more to the spit he put there moments ago. Doesn’t even give you a chance to protest. He kisses you like he’s going to die if he doesn’t. He’s sure he will. He’ll die a miserable death if he doesn’t love you one more time.

It's a bit harsh, but you know each other enough to know he isn’t trying to be forceful or rude; he’s just desperate. You are too, honestly. You know damn well if you said no and meant it, he would pull away and stop immediately. Your body has always been safest with him. You don’t want to stop, not really. You’re thankful he’s being like this. It’s the push you need to ignore the guilt for a while longer and share your body with him one last time.

When he feels that you’ve melted into him, with no more tension or hesitancy in your body, he pulls away, nipping at your lower lip once and then sucking on it. Then his lips travel down, and he licks the wine staining your chin off before placing sloppy kisses down your neck.

He doesn’t even ask before he starts sucking and licking on your sensitive skin. Not kitten licks, not gentle sucks, no, he’s full-on giving you hickeys, and you know it. You know it’s intentional when you feel him pull back a bit to take a peak, only to lean back in a second later and bite.

The hand on his nape fists into his hair, and your back arches a bit, causing your chest to push against his chest, “Fuck, Kook…”

You should tell him to stop marking you up like this. You don’t like showing up to work or visiting friends with visible hickeys because questions get asked. And as much as you wish you could admit who they’re from, you can’t. No one knows about Jungkook. No one even knows you’re seeing someone right now, and you don’t want to have to come up with some story to cover your ass.

It’s a secret for you too.

But it’s the last night together… and the idea of having his hickeys on your neck, just to remind you a little longer that this was real, he was real, it’s an idea you quite like. Fucking love, actually.

He grunts at you, bites down a little harder, “What? Told you your wine was better…”

You let out a little breathy laugh when he says this, because of course he would play it coy, as if he didn’t just randomly start devouring you. Of course he’d blame it on the damn wine.

That breathy laugh quickly turns into a moan when one of his hands finds your tit, he starts squeezing and groping it through your shirt shamelessly, tweaking your nipple in the way he knows you love. God, he loves your tits. They’re the perfect size for him, he swears. They fit into his palm perfectly, feel like pillows, just like your lips. All of you is just so soft.

He kisses his way down your neck now that it’s all marked up in pretty purple and pink bruises blossoming, much like you do every single time he touches you like this. When he gets to your chest, he looks up at you through his lashes, and then he nearly rips your shirt off of you when he pulls it down.

His eyes leave yours as he looks down at the beautiful pillows on your chest. He just admires them for a moment, as if he’s at an art gallery studying each piece of art. That’s what you are, art. Everything about you inside out is otherworldly beautiful to him, tits included.

At this point, you’re lying down on your couch, legs parted for him. It’s a bit awkward because of how small the couch is, but that doesn’t stop either of you. He doesn’t give a fuck that he barely fits. He’ll make himself fit… just like he’s made himself fit into your life for months.

He wants to fit into your life just one more time, one more night, wants to meld together and tangle your roots so that it’s impossible to untangle them. He knows it’s wishful thinking, but that’s where this is all coming from. He’s not being aggressive and eager and greedy just because he’s horny, no, he’s doing this because maybe, just maybe, if he shows you with his body how much he loves you… how much he needs you… you’ll change your mind one day.

His mouth descends on your left breast, and he starts licking and sucking on your nipple. Your eyes roll back, and your entire body shudders at the sensations, fuck, it always feels like the first time. Before him, men didn’t pay such close attention to your body. Never even had a guy play with your tits before, Jungkook was the first. It was so odd at first, but it quickly became one of your favorite things. Makes you get so wet so fast.

You love how he looks up at you when he does it, his eyes full of asters and stars alike, hearts and moons, lust mixed with love and it’s a dizzying sight. You wonder if this is how you look when you go down on him, if that’s why it unravels him so quickly. You’d understand if so, you wish so badly you could snap a picture of him like this and preserve it.

It’s funny because he’s thinking the same thing. How beautiful you look when he goes down on you, how your eyes mimic his own, and how you have a hard time controlling your facial expressions when the pleasure is too intense. His favorite thing is when you start furrowing your brows and almost pouting at him without realizing it; the little pants and mewls you let out without meaning to, it drives him absolutely insane.

He wants to capture it, too. Fuck, tonight is a night to remember, he wants everything solidified in film. Every single kiss and touch and whisper spoken tonight, he needs to preserve it.

He sucks on your nipple for a few more seconds, his other hand flicking the nipple on your right breast. Wants to get you all worked up for him. he then pulls back, letting go of your tit with a wet pop sound. Lets his hands rest on your thighs and rubs his palms up and down them as he takes you in.

You let out a little whine when he pulls away, but you don’t protest. His pupils dilate heavily as he looks down at you because, holy fuck, you’ve never let him mark you up like this. He doesn’t even like giving hickeys, thinks it’s a bit immature, something meant for college. But seeing you blooming pink and purple from your neck down to your pretty tits? It makes his cock twitch hard in his sweats.

He removes one hand from your thigh, and reaches down to palm himself through his sweats. He squeezes his cock as he takes in your already debauched look. Marked up, tits out, lips swollen, eyes heavy… fuck. You may be what kills him, not heart break.

One last squeeze to his cock to relieve a bit of the pressure, and he lets go of it. He knows you’re getting a bit impatient by how you’re shifting in your spot, but you know he wants to take his time tonight. So you don’t say anything, no matter how much you wanna beg for his dick or his mouth.

He leans over the couch to unzip the bag he brought, grabs the Polaroid, and then readjusts himself between your legs. He sets the camera down on your stomach and brings his hands back to where your thighs are spread prettily for him.

You arch a brow, and he gives you a little smile. He still looks a bit fucked, his eyes black with want and his cock literally tenting his sweats. The smile is much too sweet for what you’re both doing.

“Take as many pictures as you want, there’s a full roll of film in there. Can keep ‘em for when you miss me.”

Now is not the time to cry. Fuck.

You nod at him, grab the camera and keep it close. You wonder if he planned this or if it was a coincidence that it was in his bag. Regardless, you’re thankful. Elated even, that he’s going to let you capture this and preserve it for those nights you doubt he was ever even real. There's no time to be sad now; you can grieve him when he’s gone.

He flicks his tongue over his lip ring as he looks down at you again, there’s so much that he wants to do tonight, but he knows damn well the moment his cock so as much touches you, he’s going to lose control. He needs to lavish you with love and attention first before even thinking of himself.

He grabs the hem of your shirt, gently pulls it over your head. You lay pliant, let him take the lead and do whatever he wants. God, anything for him as long as he keeps looking at you like that, like you’re the reason he breathes.

Next he takes off the pajama shorts you had on, slowly fumbling with them because of the awkward position on the couch. It makes you giggle at him, which makes him giggle at you. Now that you’re both a bit calmed down, not quite as worked up, you realize maybe the couch isn’t the most practical place.

Even then, you take the Polaroid and snap a picture, capturing his bashful smile on camera as he tosses your shorts away. He doesn’t protest; he lets you. Watches as you take the photo it spits out and stare at it lovingly before setting it on the coffee table.

His hands are on your thighs again, and despite the fact you’re nearly butt naked now, his eyes stay steady on your face. He reaches forward, grabs the camera from you, and snaps his photo of you. He focuses the Polaroid specifically on your neck to capture the hickies he left, wants to remember you marked as his. He retrieves the photo after the camera spits it out. He doesn’t look at it yet; just tosses it inside of his bag next to the couch.

At your huff and shy little glare you send him, he chuckles, hands you back the camera, and before you can scold him, he lightly swats your thigh. Then he gets off the couch and picks you up bridal style.

It’s hard to be mad at him when he makes you feel like a princess. You don’t actually mind that he took the picture, as embarrassing as it feels. You know it’ll be for his eyes only.

He easily carries you into your bedroom, kicks the door open, and deposits you on your bed. Wasted no time before he’s taking off his shirt and sweats, and fuck, you swear he’s a Greek god. Perfect, in every way. You could drool every damn time you see any bit of his skin. His broad shoulders, his tiny waist, his subtle and toned thighs, it’s a lethal combination. Any woman who sees him like this surely could keel over at how beautiful he is, how sexy he is.

He gets on the bed with you, and you set the camera on the pillow next to your head. He settles between your thighs once more. He can feel himself starting to get impatient now that you’re both in only your underwear; his cock is still hard. Only getting harder as he stares down at you, looking at how pretty you look with your hard nipples glistening with his spit and your soft thighs spread just for him.

He descends, placing open-mouthed kisses on your tummy. Your hands come to rest in his hair as they’ve done many times because you know you’ll need to hang on. You know where this leads, and anytime he eats you out, it’s an out-of-body experience. The things this man’s mouth can do are unholy, but still feel like heaven.

His eyes stay on you as he kisses his way down to your thighs. He nips at them lightly, causing you to whine. He covers your lower half in kisses, not missing a single ounce of your skin as he lavishes your inner thighs with sweet little declarations of love that just aren’t enough.

You lift your hips ever so slightly, tug on his hair a bit, send him a silent message that says please fucking put your mouth on me before I explode.

He smirks against your skin, looks up at you as he trails his lips upward, “Just feel it, baby, let me love on you.”

You want to roll your eyes at this, but don’t say anything. Just try to regulate your breathing. You know he’s wanting to savor it, savor you. He has every right to.

But he knows what you need; can tell by the way you’re scratching his scalp that you’re itching to feel his mouth on you. And if he’s being honest, he’s growing a bit impatient, too.

So he finally trails his lips past your thighs, onto the mound of your cunt which is still covered by your panties. The moment he sees the wet spot seeping through, smells your arousal, his patience disappears. Suddenly, he’s fucking starving.

He doesn’t even take your panties off before he starts kissing your cunt, sucking on your clit through the fabric. The feeling makes your body nearly jolt, your hips bucking into his face as you tug on his hair and let out an incredibly strained moan. Fuck. So much for taking it slow and dragging it out.

He becomes a man possessed once he tastes you. He’s letting out grunts as he borderline makes out with your panties, suckling the fabric to get every drop of your essence off of them and onto his tongue. It’s genuinely filthy, debauched, but god, it’s hot.

He leans back with flared nostrils and glistening lips, looking like he’s wearing lipgloss. Made specially by you, of course. He nearly rips your panties off and throws them into the pile containing his clothes at the end of the bed.

A coincidence, he tells himself. He’s totally not planning on ‘accidentally’ taking them home with him… not at all.

He leans back down, grabs your thighs, and props them over his shoulders as he maneuvers himself to lay flat on his stomach on the bed, his knees keeping him steady as he presses his face into your pussy.

He inhales you, takes in your scent. So musky and pretty, so uniquely you. He wishes he could bottle it up and wear it as a fucking cologne. He rubs his nose around in it, nudging your clit back and forth, almost as if he’s motor-boating you but instead of your tits, it’s your cunt.

God, it’s lewd. But he can’t get enough.

You already feel yourself becoming a little too turned on but wanna capture this moment. Wanna preserve how fucked he looks when he does shit like this, only ever for you. So you grab the Polaroid with one shakey hand that leaves his hair, and you snap a quick photo. It comes out a bit blurry, but you don’t mind. You place the camera back on the pillow alongside the fresh photo and have to double down on gripping his hair because, holy fuck, this feels so good.

His tongue finds your entrance and starts licking inside, trying to get every last drop of your cream greedily into his mouth. He uses his nose to stimulate your clit, one of the perks of having a big nose. He’s grunting as he licks into your cunt, almost sounds feral doing so. He doesn't even recognize his own voice with the damn noises he's making.

As much as you don’t want to admit it, watching this all unfold has you dangerously close already. Your thighs are quivering on his shoulders, and your toes are curling along his back. The way he’s breathing into your pussy, sucking and licking and nudging it with his nose, fuck, it has you a mess. The noises you’re making you can’t control; you’re starting to sound just as feral as him.

“Mmmph… Koo… gonna cum soon, slow down…”

You babble at him. You wanna cum so bad, but you also don’t want it to stop so soon. If you had one wish at this very moment, it would be that he does this forever. He looks so lovely in between your thighs, licking and sucking you up as if it’s his last meal.

Because it is his last meal. After this night, he’s gonna be starving for eternity without you.

He huffs out a little laugh against your clit, the hot air causing your back to arch and fingers to tighten in his hair; if he doesn’t ease up, your thighs are surely going to crush his damn head.

“Cum then. Fucking give it to me, Y/N. Let me earn it.”

He nearly growls at you before he dives back in with renewed vigor. He replaces his tongue, which was deep in your cunt, with his fingers. He uses his mouth now to suck on your clit. As you look down at him, you’d swear he was kissing it, making out with it, making love with his fucking mouth. The added pressure of two of his long fingers crooking inside of you is quickly bringing you to your end.

But what nearly makes you cum on the spot is the way he starts fucking humping the bed. Acting like a virgin humping a pillow, he moves his hips back and forth on the mattress just for some sort of stimulation to his cock because it started getting so hard it was damn near painful.

He knows how desperate he looks but doesn’t care. Clearly, you enjoy it, judging by the way you start panting, and your pussy starts pulsating and tightening around his fingers. They fuck into you harder, rubbing up against the spongy flesh inside, all while he makes out with your clit.

His eyes open to meet yours, and you’re done for. Seeing that desperation and love in his eyes mixed with the fact he’s fucking humping your bed makes your pussy throb. You begin cumming hard, tugging on his hair as your thighs clasp around his head. He damn near whines into your cunt, the noise only causing vibrations to make it so much more intense for you.

“Nnngh oh shit! Fuck, oh fuck Koo… oh my god, shiiit…”

Your hips buck up into his mouth eagerly; you can’t even control it. Your feet planted on his back, toes curling, thighs trembling around his face, and your face scrunched up in pleasure. You see stars- no- you see an entire fucking galaxy as you cum all over his face. Full of stars, moons, planets, gardens, all of which are full of him and every single fiber of his being.

All for him, just as he is all for you.

He fucks you through it, does his best to prolong it, but he knows he’ll make you cum again on his cock. He is aching to be buried inside of you. He wants to make love to you, not fuck you, he wants to meld your bodies together and become one tonight.

After what feels like forever, your body relaxes, and the spasming of your clit dies down, causing it to become sensitive. He can tell by the way your legs shake and your body jolts when he applies too much pressure with his tongue.

He reluctantly pulls back, licking your juices off of his lips before placing little kisses all over your thighs and pelvis. He looks fucked, his nose and his lips are glistening obscenely in the dim lighting, and his eyes don’t look brown anymore but black.

When your eyes travel downward, you whine at him. His cock is nearly tearing through his underwear, which you now realize he’s wearing your fav, the purple CK’s. There’s a little stain where the head of his cock presses, so much precum, all for you.

He looks down where your eyes are trained, and he snorts at himself. Jesus fuck, he really is acting like a desperate teenager, isn’t he? But he can’t find himself giving a shit. He wants you to know how desperate and unhinged you make him. He can’t say he’s ever been so horny he borderline fucked a mattress, not until now. And it’s all because of you.

He takes off his underwear with shaky hands and tosses them somewhere in your room. Then he settles between your legs again, rubbing up and down your thighs as he takes you in as if it’s the first time.

Your hands come up to his chest, scraping your nails down it slowly, which earns you the most beautiful groan from his lips. He bites down on them, and his cock jumps upward, begging to be touched. So you trail your hands lower until you find his aching length and take it into your hand, start stroking him lazily.

His breathing becomes labored, and his eyes flutter shut. Even just your hand feels so fucking good. His hips jerk forward, seeking more stimulation. Fuck, he can’t get enough.

One of his hands remains on your thigh while the other reaches for the camera. He boldly angles it directly at your cunt, snaps a photo of it, making sure to capture the way your slick folds glisten in the light, along with all of the purple flowers blossoming on your thighs. His tattooed hand is barely in the shot but is visible enough to make it clear it is him in this photo.

He tosses the photo in the same pile his clothes and your panties lay next to the bed, and then angles the camera towards your face and body to take another. He thinks you’re so pretty like this. Cheeks flushed, lips puffy because you always bite them right before you cum, eyes bright with afterglow. You look like an Angel, especially in this moment.

He’s sure you’re an Angel sent from the God he doesn't even believe in.

He snaps another photo and tries to steady his shaky hands because the way you’re stroking his cock feels borderline painful. Too slow; he needs more. Beads of precum drip down his cock as if it’s crying. It may as well be crying for you.

He quickly takes the photo, tosses it in the same pile, and then does the same with the camera without thinking. Is getting way too worked up with how you’re stroking his dick and looking at him like a Greek god.

Because he is one. You’ll say it time and time again.

He leans over your body and settles in between your legs. You remove your hand and wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your fingers in his hair again. He grinds his cock onto your pussy, coating it in the remnants of your cum and juices, and starts kissing you slowly.

The kiss isn’t like the one with wine; this one is sweet, loving, still desperate, but more patient. His lips work with you in unison, your puzzle pieces coming together once more. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it makes you moan into his mouth, which causes his cock to twitch against your pussy. God, he loves the sounds that you make. Music to his ears, he’d play it on repeat if he could.

He slowly drags the tip of his cock down to your entrance which is well prepared for him, and even more slowly starts thrusting inside of you. He wants to feel you deeply, feel every ripple and ridge of your pussy, every pulse and throb. He wants to catalog it and replay it over and over in his head for when he misses you.

Jungkook is definitely gifted when it comes to his manhood. It’s not too long, a good seven and a half inches, but fuck he’s so girthy. When you first fucked him, you could barely handle how thick he was. Nowadays, you can absolutely handle it, but that first push always gets you fucking squirming. The pressure and stretch are nothing like you’ve ever felt before.

You let out a stuttered gasp into his mouth when he buries himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your ass, and he stays there for a moment so that you can adjust. You break the kiss, wincing a bit as you turn your face to try and hide the way it scrunches up as it always does the first few moments he’s inside of you.

He doesn’t like that. Not at all.

He pulls his face back from yours and steadies himself on his elbow as one of his hands comes up to grip your jaw. He turns your face towards him, doesn’t let you look away or try to hide.

“Uh-uh, you look at me when I fuck you. I wanna see every single detail of your pretty face if this is the last time I get you like this.”

You whine at him, your eyes fluttering shut and cheeks warming. For some reason, that’s embarrassing, like being called out for talking in class or some shit. But even then, your pussy clenches around his cock, because you love it when he takes control like that, when he makes it clear what he wants.

He shakes your jaw a bit when he notices you closing your eyes, causing them to open instinctively. He looks just as fucked as you do, his nostrils are flared, and he’s sweating slightly, clearly holding back.

“Eyes on me, Y/N. Don’t you fucking dare look away. Look me in my eyes while I make love to you.”

Fuck. It takes every single bit of strength you possess not to cry. There he goes, voicing the fact that tonight isn’t going to be some hard fuck. It’s making love.

That terrifies you.

Making love is something entirely different compared to fucking. Some people disagree, but you don’t. Fucking is mindless, meant for pleasure and pleasure alone. Sometimes, there's intimacy after, but it’s mostly just sex. Making love, of course, comes with pleasure, but that’s not its purpose. Its purpose is to come together with your partner, show each other how much you love them, let all of your emotions run wild and free while sharing the most intimate parts of your body together.

Fucking is like buying a bouquet of roses. You get to see them, water them, keep them on display, but the joy dies quickly because the roses die, too.

Making love is like growing a garden of roses. You can’t make love until you grow that love with someone; nurture it, watch it morph and evolve. And then the flowers bloom. The love bursts, the petals are vibrant in colors made up of you and your partner.

Both are lovely. Everyone loves buying a bouquet of roses, but few get to experience growing their own.

You’ve never made love. Tonight will be the first time.

And it will probably be the last.

You nod at Jungkook stupidly, keeping your eyes on his just as he asked you to. Once he sees your eyes remaining on him, he starts slowly moving his hips. His cock slides in and out of you, your arousal can clearly be heard by the noises your cream coating his cock every time he slides in and out makes. It’s beautiful.

This is beautiful… and so goddamn tragic.

He’s also fighting tears. Because, unlike you, he has made love before… or thought he did. He swore on his wedding night he made love to his wife, but it was nothing like this. You’ve barely even started, and he can feel the stark difference. God, it makes him question fucking everything. He never felt this way with his wife, with anyone, only ever with you.

But now isn’t the time to think of such things, to dissect the fact that maybe what he had with his wife was never actually love, but comfort. Now is the time to share your love together, one last time.

He starts moving his hips a bit faster. His arms reach under your body and wrap around you, trying to get as close as humanly possible. He rests his forehead on yours, keeps his eyes on yours, too. He starts panting, is fighting back tears. He is trying so hard not to cry right now.

“I love you.”

Fuck.

You let out another stuttered breath, and then your breathing picks up entirely as you fight back tears. Your arms are wrapped around him now, nails digging into his back like you’re afraid he will float away. Because you are, you’re so scared that if you let go, he will disappear. You don’t want him to disappear.

He starts pounding a bit deeper, grunting with each deep thrust as he grits out again,

“I love you.”

Fuck he needs to stop.

“Jungkook— nngh… don’t…”

He shakes his head, his breathing heavier, and his thrusts bordering on aggressive now. That’s not abnormal for him; sex with you both is regularly rough. But this is so different. It isn’t the dominating kind of aggressive but desperate, full of passion and love and grief.

“No, Y/N, look at me. I love you. I fucking love you so much, Y/N. I love you.”

And you break.

Crying for you also isn’t abnormal during sex with him specifically. It’s always intense, so sometimes you cry. Not out of sadness or pain; it just happens sometimes. He came to learn that quickly.

But just like how he’s making love to you, these tears are different. You’re weeping for the loss of your lover, but also because you are still so full of love for him. You’re crying because for the first time since this mess started between you, you believe him when he says he loves you. Deep down in your core, in every single crack and crevice of your being, you feel his love for you.

You see it in his eyes as he looks at you, you feel it in the way he touches and kisses you, you hear it in the way he speaks to you when he says it. He loves you so fucking much, and you regret refusing to see it until your last night together. You wish so badly you could have savored his love more seriously rather than deny yourself of it.

You wish things were different.

So you cry for him. The moment the first tear falls, you don’t hold back. You let out something between a moan and a sob as he fucks his cock into you, and his hips stutter when he realizes you’re crying. He didn’t want you to cry, fuck, he doesn’t think he can handle that right now without crying himself. He just wanted you to know, needed you to know that you are loved by him. So fucking loved.

He keeps his eyes on yours, watches the tears fall. He tilts his head slightly and starts kissing the tears away, even as they continue to fall. Greedily kisses them away because they are for him. This will be the last time you water his fully bloomed flower, so he will be greedy. Because he knows that after this, his flower will wilt away, maybe he will, too. So he lets you cry and he kisses and fucks you through it.

He feels himself getting close, his cock starting to twitch and his hips grinding harder into your pelvis. He feels you getting close, too, the way your cunt starts pulsing in rhythm with his cock. You’ve never come at the same time before. He hopes that tonight, he can make it happen.

“Fuck, you feel like home… I love you so much…”

A strangled sob escapes your throat at his words. It’s like he can’t stop saying it, can’t get the words out of his mouth enough. You’ve yet to say it back because you’re afraid his glittery eyes will water, too. But god, you need him to know.

“I love you too, Koo… more than anything…”

And you were right. Hearing you say it amidst your tears, combined with the way your pussy starts rippling around his cock, throbbing and clenching directly after you say it, it’s too much.

He cries. Tries to hide it with a moan, but it’s no use because his tears fall onto your cheeks. You both start crying harder, and he starts fucking you faster. His arms tighten around your waist, and he starts kissing you. Lets you taste your melded tears, his sorrow, his devotion, his love all poured out into this kiss and his tears.

You both water each others flower for the last time.

You feel the familiar pressure building as you kiss him back, your tears mixing with his, the taste addicting. You hate seeing him cry; you know it’s going to haunt you for weeks. But right now, you’re consumed with wanting to be as close to him as possible, and you want to share this moment with him.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and your hips start matching his thrusts. The kiss turns a bit sloppy and uncoordinated because he’s very clearly about to cum; you can feel his cock start twitching and pulsing aggressively inside of you.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you. I. Love. You.”

He groans loudly, his voice sounds strained and distraught. “Come with me.”

You assume he means he wants you to cum at the same time as him. He wants you to cum together, which is definitely going to happen; you feel the string about to snap on both sides.

But really, it had dual meaning. Cum with me, but also come with me. Anywhere, everywhere, please run away with me, please love me forever and ever, please save a piece of your heart for me, please don’t stay away from me forever.

One last thrust and his pelvis grinds into yours as his balls draw up taught. He whimpers into your mouth, and his pelvis grinding into you, mixed with how fucking deep his cock is inside of you, is enough stimulation to your clit to cause you to hurl over the edge a second time. You cream all over his dick, your hips writhing beneath him as you whine and moan into his mouth. His cock jerks hard inside of you, shooting hot ropes of cum that seem endless. Your souls meld together much like your tears do, and you both cum harder than you ever have.

It’s like, in this moment, you are one. You both share a garden, flowers at full bloom, no pesky cages or fences to hinder you from flourishing together. There’s sunlight, and bees, and soil, and plenty of water. It’s peaceful, it’s heaven, it’s home. It’s where you both swear you belong.

Both of your orgasms seem to last eternally. It’s endless, his cock jerking and spurting in rhythm to the way your pussy milks him and pulses around him. He stays buried to the hilt until his cock tires out and your pussy stops milking him.

Even after, he stays like this. You both say nothing as you silently cry together, still connected intimately as you share little kisses between tears.

You made love. He made love to you.

You know damn well you’re ruined for any other man going forward after that.

He exhales a shaky breath and starts peppering your face with little kisses. Despite the tears, he feels lighter than before. There’s still that impending sense of doom, but he knows in his heart that you know he loves you now. That’s all he wanted from tonight…

And despite the sex being pretty vanilla compared to what you usually do, Jesus fuck, that was the best sex he’s ever had.

As he attempts to kiss all of your tears away, he starts whispering the sweetest shit to you, even as he continues crying.

“My baby…”

Kiss.

“My love…”

Kiss.

“My pretty girl…”

Kiss.

“My angel…”

Kiss.

“My heart…”

Kiss.

“My soul…”

Kiss.

“My fucking everything…”

Kiss, kiss, kiss.

Fuck, it makes you swoon hearing all of those sweet words. Not sweet nothings, but sweet declarations. Pure truth. You are and have been his everything despite how fucked up it all is.

You always will be. Fucking always.

You cry a bit harder, nearly blubbering now. He keeps crying, too, not quite as hard as you because he doesn’t want this to be harder for you than it already is… but he knows the moment he leaves you in the morning, he will cry twice as hard.

You realize you’re still clinging to him; there are definitely going to be red marks all over his back. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, keeping him buried inside of you because that’s where you swear he belongs. He would agree with you.

But you remove your hands from his back and bring them to cup his face, and you feel so fucking drained from the intense sex and crying and the entire goddamn rollercoaster of today… but you don’t want it to end. Fuck, you’re so afraid for it to end.

You place a soft kiss on his lips, “I love you. I really do. Always have, always will, forever and ever…”

He smiles sadly down at you, nods. Because he knows. He never once doubted how much you loved him; every single time he was with you, he felt your love. Even when you were mad at him, you made him feel loved. He wishes so badly that he could’ve made you feel as secure as you made him feel.

You will never know how utterly thankful for you he is.

“I know baby, I know…”

You let out another choked sob and bury your face in his neck. He lifts himself off of you slightly, and he moves himself so that he’s lying beside you instead of on top of you. You cling to him again, refuse to let him go. Can’t. Won’t. Don’t want to. Can’t fucking bear it.

He gently slips his cock out of you and then wraps his arms around you, one hand coming to cup the back of your head and stroke his fingers through your hair, the other rubbing your back soothingly.

You cry and cry and cry. It’s pitiful how hard you’re crying; if anyone saw you right now, they’d be certain someone had died. It really feels that way, as if he’s dying while holding you right now. He feels like he’s dying watching you crumble like this, but he doesn’t dare stop you.

He doesn’t even reassure you because all that would do is give you false hope for something that may not happen ever again. For all you know, after this, you will never cross paths. He may just become a ghost to you…

A flower that bloomed in the spring and died come winter.

There were so many things you wanted to do tonight. You wanted to shower together, wash his hair for him, show him how to bake those cookies you know he loves, stay up and talk about a bunch of pointless shit, rewatch your favorite movies together, fuck a few more times, choke on his dick one last time, kiss him and touch him all over all night. So so so much more.

You didn’t want to stop here. You wanted to stay awake and savor every last second together just as greedily as him. But god, as you sob in his arms, you feel yourself growing so heavy with exhaustion that you can’t keep your eyes open.

“Don’t let me fall asleep, Koo, make me stay awake…”

He buries his face in your hair, his tears making wet patches in your strands. He inhales deeply just to get another whiff of your shampoo, fuck, he needs to figure out which one it is before he leaves so he can buy it and use it. Doesn’t even care if it’s weird. Wants to smell like you. Wants to be surrounded by reminders of you forever.

Like you, he’s been crying this whole time but so quiet that you don’t even realize it. He made sure you wouldn’t realize it. This is your time to get comfort from him, he can’t offer you reassurance, but he damn sure can comfort you through the pain that is his fault.

“Rest, baby… I’m here…”

You shake your head at him, keep your face buried in his neck even as your eyes start to lull shut.

“No, slap me, keep me awake… don’t wanna… sleep… please…”

He can feel your body start to go limp, can feel your tears running down his neck. He knows you’ll be out cold soon. You were fighting a battle you just couldn’t win, and god he wishes he could keep you awake. But he knows you’re emotionally overloaded right now…

And maybe if you fall asleep in his arms, you’ll rest peacefully for tonight. You deserve that, he thinks. You deserve so much peace and happiness.

“It’s ok Y/N… I got you. Just sleep. My baby needs rest, hm?”

You try so fucking hard to respond. But he’s right; you’re fighting a losing battle. Your body can’t keep up with your brain to the point you’re slurring your words. Maybe it’s the after-effects of a fight or flight response because it really felt like you were fighting for your love when making love tonight… fighting to keep hold of his roots as they slowly became untwined from yours. And now, you’re simply too tired.

“I… I love you… so… much…”

He lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes. Holds you a little tighter. Because, fuck, your last words before lulling into a deep sleep were that you loved him. It’s as it should be, but for some reason, it wrecks him, knowing that this is the last time he will hear them.

When your breathing evens out, he pulls back, stares at you. Your brows are furrowed even in sleep, clearly troubled. But you don’t stir and your grip on him loosens. You are so fucking beautiful. He wishes so badly he could just stay like this, watching you rest, in your arms while you’re in his.

Holding each other, as if you’re both one person instead of two.

He knows he won’t sleep tonight. He’s just as overwhelmed as you, but instead of his body shutting down, his adrenaline has spiked. He’s dreading leaving this bed, dreading leaving you.

He stares for an almost pathetic amount of time. Just lays beside you and takes in every soft detail of your face, traces his fingertips over your features. He finds himself wondering, what if he married you instead? What if you met sooner? What if you lived with him and had his babies one day?

What if… he left his wife?

He has to stop himself there. He makes a pained noise and buries his face in your hair again because he knows he can’t think like that. He could leave his wife; he probably should, but he feels like he owes her his life, his devotion. He married her, for fucks sake.

And even if he did leave, he doubts you’d ever be capable of having a healthy and stable relationship. People in these situations rarely do; it’s a form of karma, he thinks. Husbands who cheat and marry their mistresses often get cheated on, or they end up do it again.

He swears, fucking swears on his life that he would never do that to you. But he knows you probably wouldn’t trust him; any woman in your situation wouldn’t. You’d always be left wondering if he’d turn around and do the same to you one day.

Oh, Jungkook, how badly you’ve fucked up…

He has no idea how much time has passed by the time he checks the little alarm clock on your bedside table. He honestly can’t recall when he got here or what time ‘one more night’ started, but as of now, it’s 5 am.

He wants to stay. Wants to fall asleep holding you, wake up and make you breakfast, draw you a cozy bath and massage your back for you… wants to treat you as a lover would.

But he knows that if he doesn’t leave soon, he won’t leave at all. The moment you open your eyes, he will beg again. He will cry and beg and plead for you to change your mind.

Which is way too selfish, considering he’s still a coward, still unwilling to leave his wife both out of fear and knowing the reality of what happens once he does.

So he places one last kiss on your forehead, breathes you in one last time, and then quietly extracts himself from your hold. Standing up and getting off the bed, he looks down at you.

He swears he can see the exact place you keep his stolen heart inside of you. He doesn’t want it anymore, it’s yours. Always will be.

He slowly starts dressing himself again with robotic-like motions. He isn’t crying anymore; he feels kind of numb at this point, or maybe his tears have just run out.

Acceptance? Or the calm before the storm? He isn’t sure.

He doesn’t bother taking a shower; can’t be bothered right now even if he smells like sex… smells like your sex specifically. He can blame it on being lazy, but he knows it’s because he wants your smell to linger a bit longer. He will shower later.

Once fully dressed he pads his way into the living room, grabs the bag full of stuff he packed for you. He takes it back into your bedroom and sits it at the end of the bed.

He carefully collects each Polaroid he took of you for himself and stuffs them in his wallet for safekeeping. After nearly considering changing his mind and taking the camera greedily, he decides he’ll leave it for you, even though it was a gift you got him. He knows you love it, but also knows you’d never buy one for yourself. And if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t think he could ever use it again without thinking of you. It would feel wrong to use it without you.

So he sets that on the end of the bed. He opens the bag, carefully takes out the clothing he packed for you, folds them, and arranges them in a neat pile. Next, he takes out the box of Polaroids; he made sure to put a label on it before coming that said ‘For Y/N.’ He sets the box next to the clothes and then carefully places the chain he packed on top of the pile of clothes.

He wants to arrange it almost as a surprise, hoping it’ll feel more like a gift and not so much like a goodbye this way.

Now that the bag is empty, his intrusive thoughts return. He wants so badly to turn into a little thief and take some of your stuff, too. You would have gladly offered it to him, anything he wanted, but you’re asleep. And he can’t stay much longer.

His intrusive thoughts win, and he can’t find himself feeling too guilty.

So he reaches down and grabs the panties you had on earlier, the same panties that he sucked on like a damn popsicle, and he puts them in the bag.

He quietly makes his way into your bathroom, looks around for a moment until he finds exactly what he’s looking for: the star pimple patches. He takes them, noticing that they’re in a cute little case with a face on it. He knows you love these things; they make pimples feel less like some kind of imperfection. He loves them, too. They remind him of a time when you showered him with love.

You won’t miss them, he thinks again. Not as much as he’ll miss you.

He greedily holds onto them, looks around to see if there’s anything else he can steal. He sees your scarf hanging on the back of your bathroom door; it was the scarf you wore one of the first times he took you to dinner. It’s honestly kind of ugly; it’s a dark and muted plaid, but you loved it because of how soft and warm it is.

It smells very strongly of you.

It’s his now.

He takes the scarf and decides that’s enough. He’s greedy, but he’s not an actual thief. Maybe more like a rat. As much as he wants to steal your shampoo, he decides just to make a mental note of the name because he knows you'll need it to shower when you wake up.

He stuffs the patches and scarf into the same bag and stands before you on the bed. Fuck. He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to leave you.

But now is the perfect time; you’re sleeping soundly, dead to the world. If he leaves like this, there will be no hysterical begging or crying from either party.

Still, he finds himself procrastinating. He decides to open the box of Polaroid photos he packed just to make sure none of the ones he kept for himself snuck their way in. They didn’t. He knows they didn’t. But never hurts to double-check.

He comes across one photo in particular… it was a photo he took one night after you both had some very intense sex. He rented a motel that night because he was in Busan for business, and of course, he dragged you along with him. Busan is his hometown, and his wife has always hated it. She was born and raised in Seoul and always claims Busan is too boring, not lively enough. She always refused to go with him, even if it was to visit his parents.

You, on the other hand, you were so fucking excited to go. You talked his ear off the entire ride there, and once you arrived, you were so interested in everything around you. It was so fucking sweet because you told him the reason you were so excited was because it was a part of him. He was born here, which makes the place sacred. It was dramatic, but god, it was precious.

After you guys fucked that night, you both showered together. You got out of the shower before him, and you snapped a few pictures with the Polaroid; he made sure to put those in the box for you. At some point after, you were lying in the bed watching some cartoon on the motel TV, and he was smoking a cigarette. He noticed a vivid handprint from where he was slapping your ass while fucking you from behind. It was the first time he wasn’t really concerned about it, but proud. Because in some fucked up way, he marked you, even if it was temporary. You were his, and even if you doubted it, he was yours.

It was the same feeling he got tonight when giving you those hickeys. Just a little reassurance that you belong to him.

He took the photo to kind of solidify the feeling, preserve it. It was very aesthetically pleasing. One of his favorites, he’s realizing. He almost wants to take this one.

But instead, he decides to leave it with you, and before he does so he grabs a pin from your desk and writes:

I won’t let you forget us

-Kook

It’s cryptic, he knows. Maybe it’s selfish to leave a message like that… but perhaps it’ll keep you open for him. Not that he expects you to wait for him to get his shit together, god never. But maybe you’ll allow him to check on you now and then, maybe you won’t block his number, maybe, just maybe, you’ll save a piece of your heart for him…

He sets the photo down on top of the pile of folded clothes and steps back. He looks at the clock again, sees that it’s now 5:50 am. He has no idea how time passed that quickly because it only felt like maybe ten minutes had passed. He must have been moving slowly; his brain must have realized how much he was fighting this inevitable end.

As he stares down at your sleeping form, he genuinely considers staying. Considers refusing to leave.

And that’s exactly why he chooses this moment to leave. He has to get the fuck out of here before he does something stupid.

He walks over to you once more, leans down, and places a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, then your chin, and starts peppering your face with kisses all over again. His heart is pounding fast, and he has the urge to run. With one last kiss to your lips, he yanks himself away and grabs the bag now full of items that don’t belong to him.

He wants to take in your space one last time, wants to linger and look around because this has been his safe space for literal months. But he fucking can’t. He feels his resolve weakening quickly by the second and knows one more second here, and he won’t leave.

He quickly makes his way out of your apartment, is nearly panting as he walks out of your complex and down to his car. His hands are shaking, his heart is beating at a scary pace, and he starts to feel fucking sick.

He borderline throws the bag in his back seat, and then gets into his car quickly. His hands shake so severely that he fumbles with his keys as he starts the engine. The moment the car turns on, he’s peeling out of the parking lot.

It wasn’t acceptance. It was indeed the calm before the storm.

He’s never felt like this before. He feels nauseous and almost panicky as he drives robotically down the morning streets of Seoul. His breathing is coming in so fast he gets dizzy.

It all hits him at once. This is the end. FIN. Over.

He swears he feels his flower die at that very moment. It wasn’t uprooted and moved to another garden; someone fucking stepped on his fully bloomed Bearded Iris. One second he was thriving, flourishing, and now he’s fucking dead.

He doesn’t even recognize the sounds of his own choked sobs as he drives down the street. He can’t breathe. He can’t fucking see. He feels like he’s dying, truly, he almost considers calling for help because he feels so full of despair and grief.

But who would he call? His wife? That's a fucking joke. You? He can't call you anymore. He can't call his friends either because none of them know. He's on his fucking own now.

Nothing could have prepared him for what it feels like to grieve the death of a love who is still alive.

He ends up pulling into a random parking lot once he’s a safe distance from your apartment. He slams his palms on his steering wheel and just fucking bawls. Tears fog his eyes, and he sounds almost childish because of the force in which he’s crying.

He knew the day he lost you would be the day that that he died. And right now, he is dying for you.

It isn’t until 10 am that you stir awake. You instinctively reach for him, but your hands only find cold sheets, meaning he left a while ago…

You didn’t expect him to leave so soon. You expected to be able to wake up to him one last time, so you’re disappointed when you realize his clothes aren’t on the floor anymore, and you don’t hear the sounds of him awake and making coffee in the kitchen.

But you suppose that was a smart move. If he had stayed, it would have just made it harder for you both, most likely.

You feel oddly… numb. As of now, no sadness. The only thing you feel is almost like a little zap in your chest; it’s subtle, to the point you aren’t even sure if it’s really there.

It’s off. Somethings not quite right.

You ignore the weird hollow feeling as you sit up and stretch; you realize you never showered, and you smell heavily of sex. So you get out of bed, and you make your way into your bathroom. You start the shower after using the bathroom, and as you wait to warm it up, you look at yourself in the mirror.

Fuck.

You are literally littered with marks. Your neck, all the way down to your chest, all the way down to your thighs. Purple and pink love bites all over you. He seriously fucked you up.

You feel that zap again.

You shake your head and tear your eyes away from the mirror, don’t notice how your star patches are missing from your skincare tub on your bathroom counter yet. You step inside the shower and spend a good while letting the hot water wash over your body, washing the remnants of sex and sweat off of your skin.

After about half an hour, you step out. Dry off. Get dressed. That’s when you walk back into your bedroom and notice the pile of clothing sitting on your bed. Clothing that isn’t yours.

You slowly approach it and quickly recognize the strong scent lingering on it: his cologne. You unhurriedly pick up each piece of clothing, see the shirt and hoodie you often attempted to steal from him, accompanied by one of his favorite jackets.

He left pieces of himself for you.

Zap.

You set them aside and pick up the chain and photo. Fuck, you love his chains. You always loved them because, one, they’re fucking hot, and two, you loved how they would dangle above you when he was fucking you. You doubt he realized it, but sometimes you’d bite it as he was fucking you, tug on it like a damn dog playing with their favorite chew toy just to see if it would break. It never did, and you never stopped being fascinated with his jewelry.

Zap.

You look at the photo and immediately recall the memory. Busan, now one of your favorite places, all because of him. It was such a good little trip. You tried a lot of street food you never had before, saw a lot of pretty things, and he fucked you beautifully that night. It was rough, passionate, and he left hand prints on your ass, and much like him, you loved it. This was one of your favorites, for sure.

But then you read the note.

I won’t let you forget us.

Zap. Zap. Zap.

You drop the photo and the chain on top of the clothes, let out a shaky breathe. Still, you aren’t really feeling much, maybe a bit of nostalgia accompanying the zaps… but no despair, no yearning or grieving…

Calm before the storm.

You decide you need some coffee and painkillers. You have a lingering migraine from all of the wine and crying last night, so you leave your bedroom and make your way into the kitchen.

You start making your coffee and swallow the painkillers dry. You lean against the counter as your coffee brews, then freeze when you look at the floor.

The purple wild flower lays there, stepped on by he-who-shall-not-be-named’s boot. Wilted and destroyed, the petals disconnected from the stem.

The flower is dead.

And now you break.

Those zaps you were feeling, you suddenly understand. It was your fight or flight kicking in again, and instead of your brain responding to it, it blocked it out.

Can’t fight it now.

You drop to your knees, start breathing heavily because you feel like someone placed bricks on your chest. Your heart aches, literally, it hurts, it feels like it’s going to explode and you feel like you can’t breathe at all.

You start crying again… no- you’re fucking wailing. You’re crying out for the loss of your flower, for the death of a lover who isn’t even dead, much like Jungkook had earlier.

It finally hits you that he isn't coming back. He's gone, and now, you're expected to move on. Your heart aches for him. Without him, do you even have a heart?

No, you really don’t, not right now anyway. The moment he stepped out that door, he took it with him. He fucking stole your heart just like he stole your pimple patches and perfume.

All you can do is cry for him, except right now, you don’t have him to cling to for empty comfort. Instead, you reach for the dead wildflower, hold it in your palm, bring it to your chest, and cradle it close as if you can somehow bring it back to life.

Bring him back to you.

Little do you know, he’s currently curled up in his bed at his second apartment. He hasn’t stopped crying since he left. He went back home, took the stolen perfume, and sprayed it all over his damn bed, and now he’s hugging a pillow as if it’s you. Imagining that it’s you, that this is all just a horrible dream, and he will wake up soon.

Both of you are lovers, stars who collided, planets who aligned, flowers who grew side by side.

But it was at the wrong time. And now you’re paying the consequences of your paths crossing when they shouldn't have.

So far away in the matter of hours when you were once so close, yet you’re both doing the exact same thing; clinging to shreds of each other and wishing so fucking badly that things could be different.

Both of you left each other without returning your hearts. Both of your flowers got stepped on instead of uprooted and re-planted somewhere safer.

Spring has passed, no longer bees buzzing and flowers blooming, but the cold harsh winter is coming.

It will be a while before either of you bloom again, if at all.

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #18+ only #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #i love jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfiction

236 notes · View notes

pix3lplays · 2 months

Note

having a few thoughts about a yan!aventurine with an indifferent reader (he’s on the mind he’s distracting me from some essays i need to do…)

in other news: may i be 🦜 anon? been lurking for a little while and i have also been bursting with ideas fhisuowhxljk

anyway!!

aventurine is all about charms, big gambles and flashiness — all apart of his persona, of course. so maybe it’s a little surprising (but he supposes, not unfound) when you shoot his proposals down with a monotone response, or your casual ignorance when he tries to charm you with his words, coerce you into a fun little gamble…

maybe that’s what attracts him to you, anyway. he just finds you so… genuine! with the way you refuse to use him as you wish, declining any offers of help or favours or… anything really! he’s not used to this — being treated almost human (just because you don’t really want to use him, that in itself feels inhumane, but also the fact that you don’t really want to associate with him at all lol)

and when he realises he’s in love, he’s really not sure what to do. how will he win your affection?

welp. he genuinely flirts with you. and, because of rumours, because of basically all that you’ve heard about aventurine, you’re wary, you keep your distance, you respond with indifference — so as to not spark any conflict between your factions — he is an important figure in the IPC, and maybe your faction really doesn’t wanna. deal with the IPC… so you be as neutral as possible

aventurine is aware that he’s not really winning your affection, but he probably pins it on exactly that: you’re simply afraid of conflict! afraid of what might happen if you form a connection with him, wary of what might happen if you accept his invitation to dinner, invitation to watch him gamble, aware that you probably really don’t like him at all as a person— but no matter! he’ll convince you eventually. he just has to wait, even though his inner urges wants you to accept him, wants to use his assets in all ways possible, just to make you his…

but his flirting goes on for ages (it hasn’t really, he’s just impatient), and he cannot take waiting any longer. he lacks the patience, he’s getting needy.

why won’t you at least provide him with a reaction? any reaction at all would satisfy him— an irritated remark, an angry glare, a simple thank you for the compliments he gives would even do, but you don’t even bat an eye at him. not even the slightest flush on your face. just unbothered indifference.

maybe it’s time for him to act upon those urges and put his strategising skills into action.

Welcome, 🦜 anon~

Ohoho, yandere Aventurine content, you shouldn’t have~

Cw! Yandere Aventurine, kidnapping, violence

But yes I love that, an indifferent reader dealing with this man? Very entertaining.

You reject all his advances, you’re not even mean about it, it’s just…cold indifference…

But EXACTY he wants a REACTION. Give him SOMETHING. Get angry, glare at him, tell him to leave you alone…do SOMETHING, ANYTHING, just PLEASE acknowledge him!!

He just wants attention from you…but if you give him anything, he’ll just want more and more and more from you.

He’s unhealthily obsessed…

Hopefully you can catch it early and escape but…let’s be honest…if he really wants you, he’ll pursue.

Kinda entertaining to imagine that even after being kidnapped by Aventurine, reader still isn’t giving him ANYTHING.

You’re tied to a chair and still not interested in him at all. You just want to go home, but apparently Aventurine’s apartment is your new place.

You tell him you’re not interested in him, you don’t give him anything, and you’re just acting so…boring to him. He thought kidnapping you would spice things up A LITTLE, get SOME sort of reaction out of you but…you’re not going to indulge him.

Maybe you’ve got him all figured out? Maybe being completely indifferent to him will make him eventually realize that you’re not worth the trouble, that he should just let you go.

Or it will horribly backfire on you and you’ll be stuck dealing with him trying to get a reaction out of you in increasingly evil ways. Fine. You don’t wanna behave yourself and give him a little kiss on the cheek, or act well-behaved when he takes you out in public? Maybe your tune will change when he’s threatening to ruin the lives of your loved ones. His job in the IPC would make that SO easy…

Maybe it’s smarter to just…go along with what he wants. Give in to his demands. To protect the ones you love…

#yandere #tw yandere #cw yandere #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Aventurine #Aventurine x reader #Hsr Aventurine x reader #honkai star rail Aventurine x reader

203 notes · View notes

cameronspecial · 4 months

Text

Assisting In Deception (Part 2)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex and Assassinations.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.8K

Summary: Rafe makes an unusual offer that Y/N takes just to prove a point to her cousin.

Masterlist

Y/N enters Rafe’s office to see him scrolling on his phone at his desk. His coffee is left cold in its mug while his focus is on his phone. He looks in her direction at the sudden feeling of another presence in the room. She walks over to the chair in front of his desk and waits for him to put down his phone. “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N. What do you need?” he offers, giving her his full attention. She readjusts her posture with the sudden new gaze on her, “I know it’s a little early, but I was wondering if I could have March 18th off.” His eyebrows knit together in confusion. She isn’t one to request time off unless she is sick and he highly doubts she can predict being sick six months in advance. He knows she is a planner, but no one could schedule a sickness.

“Okay, may I ask why you need the day off?”

“For my cousin’s wedding. I mean it would be great if I could have the whole six months just to look for a date, but I could do with just the day.”

“You need a date for the wedding?”

“It’s not necessarily a need. It just would make my life a little easier to go to the wedding without being questioned by my relatives about why my romantic life is non-existent. It also doesn’t help that there are like a million parties before the actual wedding that I will be going to solo.”

Rafe shifts his body weight forward, placing his elbow on his desk and his chin on his hand to show his interest. He feels as though fate plopped this opportunity in front of him. What are the chances that Y/N needs a boyfriend at the same time that he needs a girlfriend? “I have a proposition for you,” he states, calmy like what he is about to say is an everyday offer. Y/N’s head tilts, “What would that be?” He looks into her eyes and it feels as though he is about to reveal a deep dark secret. “I want you to be my girlfriend.” She sits there in shock for a solid minute; her mouth hangs open, saying nothing. Rafe worries, waving his hand in front of her face, “Ms. Y/L/N?” “I’m not sure what to say about that,” she admits with bewilderment all over her face. Rafe nods, “I should clarify. I would like for you to be my fake girlfriend. I would go to all of your family events and in exchange, you would let me use you to show the media that I’m not everything they say I am.”

“I see. So you want to use me.”

“Well, yes. But I shouldn’t have used that word. We would just make media appearances together and that’s it.”

“Theoretically, if I were to say yes, I need more details on what you would require me to do.”

“Exactly what I said. You could flaunt me in front of your family. I’d go to the engagement party, bridal party, the wedding and any other thing related to the wedding. For me, you would just need to make one or two event appearances, be seen with me in public a few times and maybe one interview. That’s it. If you agree, we could write this all down in a contract.”

“What about the fact that you are my boss? Don’t you think people will say things about that?”

“They probably will, but everyone will have criticism of who I say I’m dating anyway. I have full confidence that you can charm the public.”

Y/N takes a second to ponder what he is saying. She weighs the pros and cons of his statement and in her mind, the cons come out on top. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cameron. But I don’t think I’m comfortable with the idea of being in the spotlight. Thank you for offering though.” She gets up from the chair and makes her way back outside.

——

It’s been a few hours since Y/N has been in his office and she can’t stop thinking about what he said. She turned down the offer because she wasn’t sure it was a smart idea with her crush on him. The relationship would be fake, but the possibility of her catching true feelings for him could be a risk. It would be too painful if that happened and then they had to stop dating. She would rather take the annoyance of being single than the pain of heartbreak. She still can’t believe how calm and collected he was throughout the whole conversation. He acted like he was asking her what she wanted for dinner, not like he was asking her to lie to the world about their relationship. The ringing of her phone snaps her out of her thoughts.

She takes it out of her pocket to answer it. “Hey Y/N, how are you? Did you get Francine’s wedding invite?” Natalie asks through the phone. Y/N shakes her head at her cousin’s inability to hide what she really wants to know. Natalie has only ever had one interest in life and that is one-upping her cousin. “I did, Nat. Are you going?” she plays into her cousin’s game.

“Of course, I’m going. I love Francine, so I would totally want to go to her wedding. Plus, Richard can take the day off. I’m thinking of getting us matching hats for the wedding. Well, a fascinator for me and a top hat for him.”

“That sounds like a great idea. I’m glad that you are happy with Richard.”

“So… Are you going to be going to the wedding solo again?”

The hint of pity and patronizing in her tone irritates Y/N to no end. Y/N responds without another thought, “Actually, I do have a date. Not that it is your business really. Anyway, I have to go. My boss is calling me.” She hangs up the phone and sighs at what she has to do. She gets up from her desk, knocking on Rafe’s door. She enters at his approval and sits herself in the same chair again. “I accept,” she informs. “But I want a say as to what goes into the contract.”

“I can work with that.”

Rafe holds his hand out for her to shake. As she shakes it, worry floods through her. She realizes that this isn’t just going to be something her family is going to see, but the whole world is going to know about their relationship. What will they say when they learn she isn’t the heiress of some big company? What will they think if they learn she is his assistant? She buries her stress deep inside and promises to not let it out until this whole thing is over.

——

The staff lounge is empty except for Topper sipping his tea whilst on his phone. He may be the head of legal at Cameron Development, but he always makes sure to get to know everyone in the company, no matter the rank of their job title. “Ahh, well if it isn’t the new Mrs. Cameron,” he jokes when he notices her at the door. She smiles at him and walks to the Nespresso machine, “That is not a new nickname that you are calling me. So I see you got the contract.” Topper laughs at the seriousness of her voice at what he called her. “That I did. I have to say I was not expecting to see a contract about your relationship with Rafe when I woke up this morning.”

“Me either. All I wanted was someone to go to my cousin’s wedding with me. And now, I am going to be paraded around his world.”

“Well, you could’ve just asked me. I’m always available to take you out.”

“Thanks but the only taking out I’m considering right now is the one where you would need a gun. All jokes aside, I think it’s going to be fine. Rafe is a good boss.”

“He is and if he ever gets on your nerves too much, you can always come to me.”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

——

Rafe looks around the subway station horrified about the state of the place. His expensive dark blue polo shirt and tan dress pants are a stark contrast to the hot and rat-infested platform. Y/N giggles at the look on his face, “It’s like you’ve never been on the subway before.” “I haven’t,” he admits, looking at her with raised eyebrows. Her head moves from side to side and she hesitantly takes his hand to guide him onto the arriving subway.

One of the stipulations of the contract is that Y/N gets to take them on their first “outing” as a couple. She wanted to go out with him outside of work to get to know him more than the very little he’s allowed anyone he works with to get to know him; the exception being Topper and Kelce, who grew up with him and were given jobs when he took over the company. The other rule she stipulated is that she wants a soft launch of the relationship until it is necessary for her to be revealed as the mystery girl. At least, this way she can keep her privacy as long as she can. She had told Rafe to dress casually, but she really shouldn’t have been surprised that he still arrived looking like a million dollars.

He keeps his sunglasses on as he pauses to sit down beside her on the subway seat. He takes a chance to glance at the costumed cookie monster and looks back at her. “Do you have to keep your sunglasses on? We are on the subway,” she questions, leaning in to talk to him. His eyes dart to the muppet beside him, “Yes, because me wearing sunglasses indoors is the strangest thing here. Why couldn’t we have taken my car?” She shoots him a playful glare. “Your fancy dancy car would bring too much attention to us and that is the last thing I want right now,” she explains, checking the subway screen to see how many stops until they get off. “Where are we going anyways?” he inquires, following her gaze.

“It’s a surprise.”

——

The pair exit the station and the sight before him is one he is familiar with. He isn’t sure what “regular” people restaurant is around Central Park, but he lets her steer them in the right direction. He looks down at their joint hand and he can’t help but notice how they interlace together perfectly. He shakes himself out of his observation and looks up to see the reason why she stopped. In front of him is a street cart that appears to be selling hot dogs. He looks over at her with a questioning look, “You want me to eat food that has come from a cart?”

“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. And this place has a permit. It’s fine.”

“You can eat that stuff, but I’m not risking it.”

“Stop being so snooty. Eating is part of a date. So you are going to go sit on that bench and eat whatever I get you. If you are a good boy, then maybe I’ll get you a Spider-Man or Spongebob ice cream. Dealers choice.”

He stares at her in surprise that she talked to him in such an ordering manner. She always speaks her mind, but she normally does it in a less commanding way. He listens to what she says and goes to sit on a bench looking over the lake. After a few minutes, she comes back with two hot dogs and water bottles. She hands him one of each, “I have ketchup and mustard packets if you want. I didn’t get you a New York hot dog because I thought I would ease you into street food culture.” He takes the packets with thanks and adds the condiments to his meal. They eat in silence until she breaks the silence. “So you grew up in the Outer Banks. What’s that like?” He looks over at her, finishing chewing before answering, “Yeah. It was quiet.”

“Wow, this has been a great conversation. Thank you for participating in it!”

“I don’t know what you expect, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ve never been much of a talker.”

“First, when we are outside of the office, you can call me Y/N. Second, what I expect from you is to stop being Mr. Cameron, my boss, and to be Rafe, my boyfriend. If people are going to actually believe we are dating, then you have to separate those two.”

“Okay, fine. I see your point. Ask me another question.”

She grins at his offer and takes a second to think about it, “You are never playful or smile, so why do you tease me sometimes? It’s the least serious I’ve ever seen you.”

“You’re the only one who isn’t afraid of me. Plus, it amuses me how flustered you get.”

Y/N is rendered speechless and she uses one hand to put her hair that is framing her face on both sides of her face behind her ear. The conversation flows in small talk while they finish their hot dogs. She takes their garbage and stands up, “You’ve been good. I guess I can get you an ice cream. Do you want Spider-Man or Spongebob?”

“Are those the only two options? What about the other flavours?”

“Yes. Now, choose.”

“Spongebob.”

She nods and heads back over to the stand. He watches as she pays for the sweet treats and returns to him. Rafe didn’t want her to pay for everything on the date, but she had put it as a requirement in the contract. He takes the package from her, opening it as soon as it makes contact with his hand. The disappointment on his face is evident on his face and she laughs. “This does not look like the picture,” his lips turn in a microscopic pout. Her head moves from side to side, “Things rarely do, Boss.”

——

Y/N returns home from the date a little after five to find Juni sitting on the couch, watching TV. “Where have you been? You didn’t tell me you were going out, Sweetie,” Juni interrogates, getting up from the couch to be closer to Y/N. She chuckles at her best friend worrying like her mother. She gives her a hug, “Did you forget that I told you about my fake date with Rafe today?” “Oh, yeah. I did. Sorry, I’ve been so busy with work that I forgot. How was your date with the Big C?” she apologizes, sitting herself down at the kitchen island.

“One. That cannot be your new nickname for him. Two. It was good. He opened up to me a little bit, so we are making progress. It was adorable, he was so disgruntled that the Spongebob ice cream wasn’t like the picture. Also, apparently, he teases me because he likes to see me flustered.”

The loving look in Y/N’s eyes causes Juni to frown, “Just be careful with him. I don’t want you getting hurt in this whole fake dating thing, Sweetie. I’ve never seen these things end well.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t fall for him. He’s my boss and nothing more.”

Alexander enters the apartment with no knock and an annoyed look on his face. “Why must people be so crude? Why does no one want a serious relationship anymore?” he complains, settling himself on the couch. The girls turn with concerned looks on their faces. “Another bad date?” Y/N poses, getting up from her stool to sit beside him. “Yes, this guy literally told me all he wants is a fuck buddy. And when I asked him why he still tried to match with me even though my profile said I wanted a relationship, he said that he just thought I was lying and would agree to just fucking when I saw his face,” he answers and lets himself be embraced by Y/N. Juni gets up to rub his back in reassurance, “Ugh, I hate men that are so cocky like that. I’m sorry the date went bad. He doesn’t realize what a great guy he is missing out on.”

Heat rushes to his cheeks and he scratches the back of his neck. They look into each other's eyes. Anyone but them can see the obvious attraction between the two. Y/N looks between the pair with a slight bit of jealousy. She wishes that she could have chemistry like that with someone, but that would require believing in love first.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @aprilrudgate @loving-and-dreaming @thepatriarchykeychain @maybankslover @abbybarnesstuff @wh0reforbucknasty @spencereidbasis

152 notes · View notes

pedgito · 2 years

Note

Hiii!!! You are so talented I love the way you write, I seriously could read your fics for days. Was hoping I could request something with Eddie where like him and reader have been friends for a long time but recently there’s all this ~tension~ and then the reader catches Eddie touching himself and he thinks he’s alone so he’s moaning her name and all bets are off 🫣🫣 (this is pure filth I’m sorry)

author’s note: i'm sorry to whoever sent this that it took so long, but i finally had the surge of motivation to write it and hope it isn't too bad, so enjoy!

cw: 18+ (minors dni), accidental voyeurism turned non-accidental, masturbation (male), leaded orgasm/orgasm denial, established friendship, they're both so sexually frustrated with each other, this also take place is the woods so it's technically open to the public? but no one's around, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.5k

Eddie’s fist hits the table in frustration, chipped wood flying up in protest, the dilapidated picnic table near its last leg on this earth—it was a wonder it could still hold that weight of someone without stalling in half. Eddie sighs heavily, climbing up the seat to plop himself on top, hands moving to rest behind him, helping him stay upright but reclined enough to allow him to relax.

He couldn’t fucking stand it anymore; the sight of you.

It seemed arbitrary and petty, but it was becoming a problem. You’d found just about every possible way to get under his skin, pressing all the right buttons to set him off. It hadn’t always been that way either, only recently—one long night at Hellfire, a heated argument that had nothing to do with the actual game and ended up cutting the campaign short. Eddie bid everyone a clipped and dismissive wave that night, shooing them off in annoyance.

You’ve always been friends, that hadn’t changed, but it didn’t take long for him to notice the small changes; switching up your outfits for something a little more risque, openly flirting with others in front of him—which shouldn’t bother him, but it definitely does. He hates when you ask him for advice, not that he would be much help, but because he doesn’t want to give you semblance of an idea that you should go off and wrap yourself up with someone—not with how desperately he wanted to be with you—he wasn’t sure he’d ever find the courage to tell you that, though.

Anyways, the night before was what finally set him off—tired of your antics and comments, the subtle, teasing touches you’d leave against his skin in passing—normally you’d sit across from him, several feet away, but you switched with Dustin that night, perched right beside him.

Eddie sat back in his felt throne, fingers talking against the arm of the chair. You knock his foot gently, sending him a warm smile, eyes creasing at the corners. The one he returns is forced, bubbling with annoyance. He was a fuse set to blow and he surely did.

To you, it didn’t make sense. Eddie spent so much time on his music, Hellfire, and everything else that seemed more interesting than you—and sure, it was; but your friendship felt like it had been shifted to the back burner lately.

It’s part of the reason why you started to branch out, knowing that your advances would never be noticed—Eddie too wrapped up in his own problems that it seemed pointless; he had a lot to deal with and you were the last thing on his mind, or so you thought.

You both were running in circles when all you needed to do was talk—you were two incredibly stubborn individuals.

He thinks about lighting up the joint tucked behind his ear, wondering if it will ease the anxiety he felt, it still didn’t feel like enough. His legs widen slightly, feet planted on the bench of the table. He half hesitates on the idea of rubbing one out, knowing that it could satiate the running thoughts in his brain if he just tried; allow the cloudy haze of pleasure to wash over him.

Fuck it—no one ever comes out here, anyways. It wasn’t the first time and it surely wouldn’t be the last.

He palms himself over the front of his jeans lightly, soft dick hardening at the touch, almost to full mast after a few long drags of his open hand, head hanging back slightly as he breathed out.

All he had to do was picture you and he was done for. You were the only thing he pictured anymore, the cheesy porno mags never enough anymore—not after he got caught in your trap, stuck on the idea of you.

He always pictured you underneath him, sometimes bound by your hands, cuffs pulled tight to keep you from moving, moans loud and desperate as he pounded into you, almost relentless—but sometimes it was slow, and he wondered how you hands would feel wondering his body, allowing you to discover new things about him that you were previously oblivious to; how he liked to be touch or what kinds of noises he made when your hand came to wrap around his dick.

It was all a sick fantasy.

˚ · • . ° .

You didn’t normally come out to Eddie’s spot that often, knowing how he liked to keep the secrecy to his customers and leave prying eyes out of the equation—he didn’t need to end up in prison before graduating. Wayne would surely murder him.

But, you felt guilty, wanting the pointless arguing and fights to be done—you just wanted your friend back, knowing that was all he’d ever be. You could settle for that, having Eddie in any sense was all that mattered to you.

The wet leaves are like mush underneath your steps, forming around and sticking to your shoes—you figure it’s smarter to be quiet than loud, knowing that there were still students a half a mile away, sure to hear the scream that Eddie would let out if you ran up on him—when you’re finally through the thick brush of trees and stray branches, you spot him.

He’s relaxed, back to you, probably fiddling with the zipper of his denim jacket or twisting at the frayed lace of his shoe—Eddie enjoyed being alone, as much as he surrounded himself with friends at school.

You hear a small noise, wondering if he’s talking to himself—your steps are timid, almost questioning your own movements as you grow closer. His head falls back, a mess of curls dangling, begging to be tugged at.

And then he moans—steady and unashamed, but then you hear your name, and that definitely isn’t a trick. You heard it, you saw the way his lips curled around the word. He shifts further and you can see the way he’s tugging at himself, bare dick in his hands, caught in small wordless gasp as his thumb swipes against the underside of his cock, dragging slowly over the tip.

You gasp involuntarily, hand clasping over your mouth in shock. Eddie scrambled at the noise, fear of being caught finally coming true, his heart palpated in panic, the tinge of pain evident as he turned to look behind him, dark eyes falling on you.

Of course—out of everyone, it had to be you.

“Fuck—“ He sounds wrecked, it should turn you on as much as it does, legs clenching together slightly, “what the hell are you doing out here?”

His words come out like venom, clenched teeth and tense jaw. He was still upset, clearly. This was a mistake. You stutter for a response, still trying to process what was happening.

Eddie hadn’t even made much of an attempt to move, hand barely covering himself, not a single try at making himself decent—he’s just staring, waiting for an answer.

“I—I came to apologize,” You offer weakly, “But, I mean—clearly you aren’t mad anymore—“

He’d said your name, you think. You weren’t hallucinating.

“So, what, you like sneaking up on people now?”

Your brows furrow in annoyance, “What? No. You’re the one jerking off in the middle of the fucking woods—you want to talk about that?”

Eddie pulls back at your words, watching you as you take several steps near him, far too close for comfort, not with his dick still heavy in his hands.

“Needed to let off some steam,” He offers weakly, trying to seem dismissive, “how much did you see?”

All of it.

“Enough,” You tell him, eyes glancing toward where his hands covered himself, wondering why you were the name that left his mouth as he felt himself up, the boldness overtakes you, the chance to tease him even further was too good of an opportunity to pass up, “you do that often?”

“What?”

“Think about me?” You laugh softly at the idea, but Eddie doesn’t appreciate it.

It wasn’t a joke to him.

“You askin’ me to be honest with you?”

You nod confidently, arms crossed over your chest.

“All the time.” He admits—and it feels good to admit that, tired of forcing it down all the time.

You don’t know what to say, eyes caught between his heated gaze and the hands covering his noticeable hard dick, still having not let up—if anything, it was worse.

“Well—are you just gonna keep standing there?” Eddie asks with an amused look, the edge of his mouth pulling upwards in a smirk. “Or, do you wanna help?”

“What?”

“That’s why you’re still standing there, isn’t it?”

And it was a good fucking question—but, you knew exactly why. As shameful as it felt, you wanted him to continue; you wanted to watch him fall apart to the idea of you, your name falling from his lips one more time.

“That’s what I thought,” Eddie chides, taking note of the way your eyes connect with his, a silent confirmation that you wanted this just as badly as he did, “come here.”

He nods to the area next time and your feet move faster than you can process, nearly scrambling to his side.

“You just wanna watch?” He asks softly, “Or?”

Touch me—he can’t bring himself to say the words, afraid that he might be dreaming this.

“Can I?” You ask timidly, hand coming up to rest against his inner thigh, his hands rubbing against his stiff erection.

He nods furiously, moving his own hands to allow yours to take over—he’s warm and heavy in your hands, your fingers wrapping around the width of him and pulling a few times.

You’ve only done this a few times, still, it felt odd. You weren’t sure what he liked or what he wanted, he wasn’t very vocal—at the moment, at least.

“Like this,” He instructs, realizing your hesitation. His large hand wraps around your own, setting a steady, tight pace against his cock, tugging at the length of his dick in earnest. He sighs outwardly, head falling back once again. His chest heaves, neck reddening in a deep blush, “fuck—yeah, that’s it.”

Selfishly, you really wanted to just watch—watch him fall apart by his own doing, like he originally planned to. He notices the perplexed look on your face, so mesmerized by his hand working against your own, joints flexing underneath the skin.

“What’s wrong?” He forced out, eyes half lidded as he looked over at you. “Do you want to stop?”

You shake your head honestly, letting the words fall from your lips quietly, “I—I do wanna watch you.”

“Like, you wanna watch me jerk off?” The absurdity of the question has him chuckling into his fist, allowing you to pull your own hand away. “Really?”

He wasn’t judging—definitely not. He was the last person on earth to ever think about doing that.

“Yeah,” You say timidly, “Just…act like I'm not here, you know?”

“I don’t think that’s possible, sweetheart.” He says endearingly, hands returning to his own dick instinctively, begging to ease that ache. “But, I’ll try.”

You watch eagerly, enraptured at how easily he falls back into a rhythm, licking at the palm of his hand to allow for an easy glide of his hand, the friction almost overwhelming as he continues his movements, eyes falling shut.

“Fuck—“ He curses, a small grunt slipping out in weakness, eyes squeezing shut as he squeezes harder, tugging himself at a quick, hurried pace—allowing himself to reach the edge, nearly, before squeezing the base of himself, cutting the feeling short, “—sorry, this is kinda new to me.”

“What?”

“Being watched,” He points out, eyes opening to connect with yours. It has his dick twitching in his hands, sending a pulse straight to your cunt, “it’s not bad, though.”

If you weren't so ashamed for watching, you’d join him—but, this was for him; a punishment, even, for being so difficult with you all the time.

“Wanna try something?” Eddie asks curiously, voice strained.

You nod nervously, wondering where his wild brain was attempting to take this.

“Tell me when to stop and I will, it doesn't matter if I’m about to come or not.” He instructs, “I’ll listen to you.”

“Oh—okay,” You answered hesitantly, watching as he continued at a slow place, listening for your voice, “sped up—a little.”

He laughs softly, the swift tugs at his dick as he squeezes gently at the head forcing desperate noises to fall from his mouth, something you thought you’d never have the chance to hear.

It’s glorious.

After a while, you perk up, “Faster,” You say quietly, and he obeys immediately, working himself over quickly, his chest rising and falling rapidly, shirt rising up to show the soft, smooth expanse of his lower stomach and the soft patch of hair that led to his groin—you want to reach out and touch him, it’s almost instinctual. Eddie whines on a particular flick of his wrist, mouth open in a deep groan as he almost allows himself that release, only for you to stop him dead in his tracks again, “Stop.” Your voice is steady, surprising both of you.

Eddie laughs in anguish, “I knew you’d be into this,” He teases, his hooded gaze catching your own, “dunno how much longer I can listen, though—really wanna come, sweetheart.”

You reach forward to squeeze gently at his arm, indulging in the earlier thought of wanting to touch him—there was no time like now, letting your hand slide over the expanse of his stomach, feeling the muscle flex against your hand. He watched carefully, eyes stuck on the movement of your hand.

It’s your touch that sets him off, the soft lilt of your voice as you whisper into his ear, “Then come.” You tell him.

And he does, too quickly, tugging at his dick until he’s spilling over his hand and against his stomach, and in turn, your own hand, as you couldn’t be bothered to move—too mesmerized by his face as he reaches his release. His teeth grit together, eyes struggling to stay open as his orgasm hits him hard and intense, worse than he’s ever felt before. He moans out, nearly convulsing at the peak of it all, panting deeply on the descent back down, laughing exasperatingly.

“Jesus Christ,” He sighs tiredly, motioning to the handkerchief in his back pocket, “you mind?”

You laugh quietly, pulling at the small square of material stuffed in his back pocket to hand over, letting him carefully clean up the mess that covered your fingers—a little too lovingly, lingering on the casual touches of his fingers dragging against your own—you weren’t sure why that was what felt the most intimate out of all this.

“So, are you still mad at me?” He asks curiously, knowing the perfect remedy to breaking the tension. “Because if you are, this is pretty awkward.”

“Depends.” You respond teasingly.

“On?”

“If we get to do that again.”

Eddie smiles wide, allowing himself to look somewhat presentable again, tugging at his zipper as he buttoned his pants back up. “You free this weekend then?”

You nod furiously.

“Good,” His smile turns devilish, like he’s on to something, “You're next.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #my writing #1kfic

2K notes · View notes

toppersjeep · 4 months

Text

[Chapter 3]- I’ll Take Him(Charles Leclerc X Carlos Sainz X Reader)

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Masterlist || tags @cmleitora @gracielukey @janeholt3 @landologg

Chapter 4

(poorly translated french my apologies in advance still learning french!! - a/n)

Your POV

“So obviously we will start with the simple things then go from there” Charles said. “Sounds good to me char” I said he smiled. After hours of learning french well trying to learn it we decided to make good. Well I made food.

“Can I ask you something” I said. “What’s on your mind” Charles said. “Shouldn’t you be with your new girlfriend” I said. “Ah.. I was waiting for that question” Charles said. “Why sensitive topic” I said cooking the pasta. “It’s not that” Charles said. “So it’s complicated” I said. “Very” Charles said. “I see well pasta is done” I said.

“Looks good” Charles said I handed him a bowl. “I mean I know I cooked it” I said. “I only burnt it once” Charles said grabbing some pasta. “Still I don’t trust you in my kitchen” I said he laughed. “Alright I get it” Charles said sitting down. I sat beside him. I then heard the door open.

It was Carlos.

“What’s this” Carlos said. “Oh Charles was just offering to teach me french” I said. “Really cause it looks like a date or something” Carlos said. “It’s not I literally was teaching her French” Charles said. “Then we got hungry” I said. “Mmmh” Carlos said.

“You know you were supposed to come for breakfast and you didn’t so” I said. “So Charles just comes when he pleases” Carlos said. “He’s my best friend you’ve known that” I said. “Maybe I should go” Charles said. “No you aren’t leaving” I said. “No he should” Carlos said.

“Yeah” Charles said getting up. “You have a girlfriend anyways don’t be taking her” Carlos said. “Whatever mate enjoy the pasta” Charles said handing Carlos his bowl. “Sorry char” I said. “It’s fine he’s fine” Carlos said. “Y/N” Charles said. “What” I said. “Il te trompe” Charles said.

(Il te trompe - he’s cheating on you) (Vous êtes sûr - you are sure) (Je ne te mentirais pas- I wouldn’t lie to you)

“What did you just say” Carlos said. “Looks like someone should pick up on there French” Charles said. I just looked at Charles in disbelief. “Vous êtes sûr” I said. “Je ne te mentirais pas” Charles said softly. “I’m sorry what’s happening” Carlos said.

“Get out” I said. “Excuse me” Carlos said. “Get out of my apartment” I yelled. “Y/N what’s your problem” Carlos said. “Get out now” I said standing up. “What did he say” Carlos said. “Get your shit and leave” I said handing him his jacket.

“What the hell is your problem” Carlos said. “Talk to her like that again and I’ll become your problem” Charles said standing in between us. “Whatever” Carlos said leaving slamming the door shut. “Y/N” Charles said.

“How’d you know” I said. “I … saw him with some girl today” Charles said. “So..” I said teary eyed. “I’m sorry” Charles said. “What an idiot” I said throwing the vase of flowers. “Hey” Charles said as I went to pick up the broken vase. “I’m so stupid” I said. He grabbed my hand. “Stop” Charles said. “I” I said crying he hugged me.

“I’m here” Charles said rubbing my back. “I just” I said. “I know” Charles said. “Who was the girl” I said softly. “The girl I was talking to” Charles said. “Guess we both got played” I said. “Apparently” Charles said. “I should pick that up” I said looking at the vase. “No no I will go eat dinner please” Charles said.

“Okay” I said he helped me up off the floor. “I thought you hated daisy’s” Charles said. “I do” I said. “How does he not know what kinda flowers you love” Charles said sweeping up the glass. “He just doesn’t pay attention” I said.

“Because he’s never deserved you” Charles said. “Maybe” I said. He finished sweeping then came back over to eat with me. “This is actually very good” Charles said. “I’ll teach you to repay you for the french lessons” I said. “I’d be happy to learn” he said with a smile.

“Just don’t burn down my apartment” I said. “Then we go to mine” Charles said. “Fine but you are buying the stuff” I said. “Sounds fair” Charles said. “Actually I’ll go with you because you have no idea” I said he laughed. “Okay” he said.

The next day…

We were at the track again. I was in my office when flowers came in. This time it was a single rose.

“I don’t know someone told me to give you this ” a mechanic said. “Oh” I said taking it. He then left the room.

I read the card attached , “it’s roses anyone with ears knows this - CL”. I smiled to myself and set it on my desk.

“Can we talk” Carlos said in the doorway. “No” I said. “What’s your problem” Carlos said. “Cheaters like you” I said walking out of the room. “How’d you” he began to say. “You should be ashamed of yourself rather than asking how I know” I said looking at him.

“I’m really sorry” Carlos said. “Don’t talk to me anymore unless it’s work related” I said walking away. He grabbed my hand and pulled me back to him. “So what are you saying” Carlos said. “It’s over” I said walking away.

He just stood there as I did. He didn’t even try to fight for me or apologize further. He just stood there silently. I turned back to look at him and he walked in the other direction.

I then went to sit beside Charles.

“How’d that go” Charles said looking at me. “Fine” I said. Carlos then walked into the room grabbing a coffee. “Did it though” Charles asked. “He just didn’t even try to fight for me” I said. Charles looked at Carlos. “That’s his own problem don’t let him get to you” Charles said putting a hand on my back.

Carlos just looked over at both of us pissed off. He then walked over to our table. He sat across from us and didn’t say anything.

“What do you want” Charles said. “What do I want hmm” Carlos said. “You’ve got some nerve” I said. “Me what do you like go from teammate to teammate” Carlos said. “What are you talking about” I said. “This” he said holding up the rose. “It’s just a rose” I said. “Is it Charles” Carlos said looking at him.

“Yes” Charles said. “Sure it is” he said throwing it at Charles. “You need to walk away” Charles said. “Or what” Carlos said. “Don’t ever come near her again” Charles said. “And what will you do” Carlos said with a smirk.

“Why don’t I just tell everyone about how you cheated and ruin your perfect image” I said. Carlos looked at me. “You wouldn’t” Carlos said. “Oh I will so walk away” I said. “You two deserve each other” Carlos said walking away.

“Well” Charles said picking up the rose. “It’s alright” I said. “It was never just a flower” Charles said getting up. “What” I said. “You heard me” he said with a smile. “Oh” I said. “Umm I should get prepared for the race” Charles said. “Yeah you’re right” I said.

As the race went on I couldn’t help but think of Charles and the rose. What did he mean by it’s not just a flower. Then there was Carlos why did he do the things he did.

Charles placed P2. Carlos was a dnf because of engine issues. And Carlos was upset. We all celebrated Charles podium. After he got down he hugged everyone.

“Thank you for making the car perfect” Charles said hugging me. “Thank the mechanics too” I said. “I did but you had a big part in it” Charles said still hugging me. “You’re welcome” I said. “You are a big part of this team” Charles said I smiled. “I’m so proud of you” I whispered in his ear.

“I appreciate you more than you’ll ever know” he whispered. “I hope you know how special you are to me” he added. “Congrats” Carlos said. I stopped hugging Charles. “Thanks” Charles said. “So what was wrong with my car” Carlos said. “Engine problems” I said. “Sure” he said.

“What are you implying” I said. “Crazy how after we fight my car suddenly doesn’t work” Carlos said. “Funny you assume I’d do something when I only work on Charles car” I said. “Wouldn’t be hard for you to do though” he said. “Believe me when I say I’d rather punch you than mess up your car” I said Charles laughed.

“Come on let’s go celebrate this win” Charles said.

#fanfic #love #f1 imagine #x reader #mercedes amg f1 #red bull f1 #charles lecrelc #charles lechair #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #f1 x reader #f1blr #f1 2023 #george russell #love triangle

132 notes · View notes

sitp-recs · 5 months

Note

Hello, I was wondering if you could have any friends to lovers drarry fic rec for me? I enjoy slow burn with a kind and soft Draco (where he isn’t a bully) or one where draco stood for the light side of the war (so preferably during the war). I just want want to see Draco have a strong friendship with the golden trio, really! (I don't mind if the romance is a subplot. I just want a focus on Draco)

(I quite literally watched Harry Potter with my sister thinking Draco was going to have a hell of a redemption arc and was sorely disappointed... So here I am seeking for comfort fics)

Anyways thanks in advance!

Hi anon! I feel you, Draco’s redemption arc was poorly done and so frustrating :( I hope you’ll enjoy these as they combine slow burn, friends to lovers and redeemed Draco. Some are told from Harry’s pov and while Draco’s not always soft I think his characterization will be right up your alley. You might also enjoy GallaPlacidia’s Draco, her fics were taken down but you can find them here. Finally, I have also added my personal favorites redemption arc as a separate category, highly recommend them. Enjoy!

Friends to lovers slow burn:

Vortex by @xanthippe74 (T, 20k)

The idea of perfectly-matched soulmates feels more like a curse than a blessing to Draco. Who would want a soulmate who was a schoolyard bully, a Death Eater, and a convicted felon? Certainly not Harry Potter. And Draco is determined to take this secret to the grave.

Nice Things by aideomai (M, 22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

With Great Yawns and Stretchings by sugar_screw (T, 22k)

The coffee is very good. Really. And the cats are so cute. That's why Harry goes so often.

Moldova's Magical Tea by @aibidil (E, 32k)

Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and—to everyone’s surprise—Draco Malfoy are opening a magical tea shop to revive wizarding tea culture and, hopefully, to bring the community together after the war. Harry, who is unemployed and trying to find his way in post-war society, wants to help his friends with their new business—but that means spending a lot of time around Malfoy.

Open For Repairs by @drarrytrash (M, 35k)

After the war, Draco works at a tv repair shop and Harry breaks things.

Follow the Water by @xanthippe74 (T, 38k)

Harry Potter’s life is fine. Maybe a little dull and predictable, but he shouldn’t complain about that, right? When he unexpectedly finds himself at Luna’s house one afternoon, Harry gets invited to join the secret wonderland that she’s creating with a surprising group of friends. Maybe a summer outdoors is just what a former hero needs to bring some zest back into his life.

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love by @aibidil (E, 80k)

In which a group of wizards' rights activists goes on the offensive after a prohibition against love potions, forcing the magical world to confront the horror of magic's role in sexual assault and the murky legal nature of consent. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Draco are swept together to solve the case, and in the process they're made to confront their own love and lust—with and without potions.

At Your Service by Faith Wood (E, 95k)

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There's only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl (M, 114k)

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

My favorites - Redemption arc:

And Save Me From Bloody Men by @blamebrampton (T, 10k)

Draco Malfoy once watched others fighting to stop the world falling apart. This time, he's not just watching.

Slithering by astolat (E, 27k)

Draco found the nest down in the Manor’s cellars, while he was clearing them out.

Heal Thyself by astolat (T, 47k)

"Are you going for the course?" Lovegood asked. "You have the NEWTs.” “What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th.

A Young Radical's Guide to Love by @blamebrampton (T, 66k)

Memories of the war are still fresh, which is all the excuse Decent People need to do appalling things. In this quietly waged conflict, Draco Malfoy is happy to be on the right side of things for once, and even happier to find he’s not alone.

A Thousand Beautiful Things by geoviki (M, 104k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

Changing Tides by carpemermaid (E, 109k)

Draco has spent half of his life spouting the things his father has taught him without much thought about how he feels about what he says. When he unexpectedly comes face to face with the Dark Lord, he grapples with the harsh realities of the world and struggles with his changing views on life.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Eclipse by Mijan (T, 287k)

Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back.

Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 (T, 302k)

Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #friends to lovers #slow burn #redemption arc

125 notes · View notes

detectivestucks · 4 months

Text

A Jealous Hokage IV

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Kakashi x F!Reader x Obito

Summary: Obito regrets his actions as you decide what to do moving forward. Kakashi invites you to an event and things get steamy as you decide what you’re going to wear.

Warnings: NSFW, Slight Degradation, Spanking, Fingering, Unprotected Sex

Word Count: 3.4k

Part 3

New here? Check out Part 1

You sit there, staring at the gift. Your mind that had gone blank, paralyzed by indecision, was now swirling with inner dialogue. What is wrong with me? Kakashi is amazing. We’ve been dating for the better part of a year. Why would I throw that away? But Obito, how do I describe it? You always know where you stand with him. He doesn’t hide his affection. The way he looks at me. The way he made me feel under his genjutsu…but that’s exactly why I can’t trust him. The entire thing could’ve been lies just to get me in bed. This is all a game to him. It’s not a game to Kakashi. He loves me. He’s the healthy choice, even if it is in secret. I might have feelings for Obito but I love Kakashi and I'm not gonna give that up.

You make this decision with a firm nod of your head. Now that you are certain of what you’re going to do, you reach out and finally unwrap the small box that had been sitting patiently on your table for the past two hours.

It is a beautiful necklace and earring set. A long strand of glittery stones with a bright pendant, it was exceedingly fancy and you wonder when you would ever wear such jewelry. Sure you love dressing up for work but within reason. This looked like something you’d wear to dinner with the Feudal Lord. It must’ve been very expensive. Why would Kakashi spend this kind of money on me?

The next morning you head into work trying your hardest to pretend last night never happened. It was genjutsu, it was genjutsu, it was genjutsu. None of it was real. It was genjutsu. No matter how many times you told yourself this, you were still saddled with guilt cause you know that in the heat of the moment you liked it. Curse Obito for doing this to you. You were happy and in love before he came along. Why did he have to come ruin everything?

You drop your stuff off in your office and head to the break room to grab hot water to make some tea. Upon entering the room you see Obito. Your face instantly shades red from both shame and anger and you storm away avoiding him. Obito for once regrets his advances towards you. He knows he crossed a line last night. Desperation got the best of him. He shouldn’t have used his abilities like that.

Mortified, you decide to hide out in your office. You hear a soft knock on the door. It was Obito holding a cup of tea. “Go away Obito”

Completely disregarding your wishes he enters anyway and puts the tea down on your desk. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I was out of line last night.” You sheepishly take the tea off the desk. “I think that might be the first time you’ve ever called me by my name.” you give a small smile. “Thank you Obito. For the tea and for the apology.” You blow on the tea before taking a sip.

“I’ve let my feelings for you consume my actions. I've been focusing on what I want and I took it too far.” He steps forward and grabs your hand, kissing the back of it. “Forgive me Princess.”

“Please stop calling me that.”

“Never” he says with a smile as he walks out of your office.

You would be lying if you said that the small gesture didn’t make you feel warm. You liked how special he made you feel but last night is as far as things will ever go. You stand firm on that decision.

Not even ten minutes go by before Kakashi enters your office without knocking and leans against your desk. You beam up at him. “Good Morning Kashi!”

“Good Morning Angel” He leans down to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Did you like your gift?”

Recalling the jewelry he had delivered to your home, you exclaim, “It was beautiful! However I couldn’t help but wonder, what was the occasion?”

“I’m so glad you phrased it like that.” He smiled, “The Feudal Lord came to my office yesterday afternoon. He wants us to host a Gala to fundraise for the Academy. Since these times of peace have brought in fewer paid missions, we need more money to keep the program going. He also wants to invite representatives from the other great nations to continue to build international relationships. I thought you could wear it when you go.”

“I’m invited?”

“All members of the shinobi forces are invited, including the personnel at headquarters.”

“Wow, sounds fancy. I feel so important.”

“You are important.” He says with a brush of your cheek.

At that moment you hear your office mate shuffling in through the door. Kakashi immediately stands up.

“I’ll have the latest update on that translation on your desk by lunch.”

Kakashi nods while playing along. “I appreciate it. I can always count on you.” He begins to leave your office.

“Good Morning Lord Sixth.”

“Good Morning Shiho. Just a heads up, you should be expecting an invitation from my office later today.”

“Oh, okay, thank you!” she called to him as he disappeared out your office door.

“What is the invite about?”

“It’s some fundraiser Gala. We’re all invited.”

“Oh that sounds fun! You gonna bring a date?”

“Psh, yeah right.”

“What about the mystery man?”

“He is a mystery for a reason and he is going to stay a mystery.” You say with a pointed look.

Shiho rolls her eyes and drops it, deciding to get started on the day’s work.

**************************************************

You come home from work thinking about the Gala. What on earth am I going to wear? I don’t have anything that fancy! You begin to rifle through your closet looking for a dress that matches Kakashi’s earrings. There is a knock on the door. You turn around, leaving your closet and walk towards the kitchen. You open up your door to find Kakashi standing there with flowers for you. Beaming at him, you hurry him inside before anyone could see.

“That was a big risk you took coming here with flowers like this. Someone could've seen you.”

“Don’t worry Angel, I was careful.”

He gives you the bouquet and you smell them. “They’re lovely, thank you.”

“Not as lovely as you.” he says, eyes sparkling as he looks at you with complete adoration. You feel butterflies rise in your stomach yet again. He always has that effect on you. You turn to put them in water and make two cups of tea.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy.”

“That’s okay, Kash. I have plenty of work to occupy my time.”

“And I’m sorry that you can’t be my official date to the Gala.” The way he says this tells you that he is genuinely bothered by it.

“I don’t need all of that. I’m just happy being with you, even if it’s private.” you say, placing a hand on his forearm.

Kakashi pulls down his mask while he leans in for a kiss. You wrap both of your arms around him pressing your lips into his. When your mouths disconnect, he asks softly, “Have you thought about what you’re going to wear?”

“Actually I was just trying to figure that out. I think I may need to go shopping.”

“Well I’ve been thinking about what you should wear, a lot.” He whispers in your ear. You feel the familiar tingle of excitement trickle along your spine.

“Do tell” you whisper back

“Well I was thinking something red and revealing. Maybe something low cut showing off your lovely tits, teasing the entire room” he says gripping your waist tightly. “The fabric sheer so I can see your thong through it from across the dining hall.” He kisses your cheek. “Perhaps a slit up to your hip so that I have easy access when I corner you in the closet.” He kisses your neck. “Every man in the room will want you but only I will get to fuck you.” he whispers into your neck.

You hum in amusement. “Well if you want me to wear something low cut, you’ll need to stop giving me so many hickies.”

You hear the hesitation as he debates whether or not to resist the urge to bite down on you. He settled for kissing along the entire curve of your neck and shoulder, willing to allow your pre-existing marks heal before the Gala. He kisses all around your collarbone before licking his tongue up your neck.

You close your eyes and exhale feeling the arousal begin to pool in your underwear. He presses his lips into yours before nibbling on your lower lip, pulling till it slips out from between his teeth. You sharply inhale feeling lust wash over you. Your fingers dig into his back as you pull him towards you.

He pushes you onto the table pulling off your tank top to kiss all over your chest. Your head drops back as he kisses you, careful not to leave a single mark. It isn’t as fun as his love bites but it still makes you soak the lace between your legs. While he kisses you he undoes the snap of your bra, causing it to fall in your lap. You push his face into your chest letting him lick your cleavage before suckling on your tits, taking care of each one. Since he couldn’t mark up your skin he decided to be extra cruel to your nipples biting down on them with ferocity. “AH!!” you call out. Chills roll over your body covering your skin as his nibbling makes your empty pussy crave something to clamp down around.

He lets go of your tit with a satisfied smile, devilishly staring up at you. You pull off his shirt and undo his pants, kissing his entire front. Every muscle, every scar, every facet that you could get your greedy mouth on, you wanted to taste it all. He stroked himself as he watched you. Once again thinking about how he could fuck you for the rest of his life. You nibbled on his collarbone before he raised your face up to his.

“Open”

You open your mouth. He spits into it.

“Swallow”

You swallow his spit. A wicked smile curls his lips. He loves how you play along with anything he throws at you. “That’s a good Angel”

He spins you around so you’re bent over the table and yanks your pants down past your hips. He spanks you a few times just to watch you squirm before sliding his fingers into your slit. You moan as he works your gummy walls. His other hand reaches to cover your mouth and arch your back up towards him. With his hand jutting in and out of your tightening pussy, he leans down and whispers in your ear, “Do you like that my little slut? You like when I finger your hole?”

“Mhm” you say, muffled by his hand. He adjusts his hand and slips two fingers into your mouth fish hooking you while he quickens the pace in your cunt adding a third finger inside.

“Aa-aaa-aaa-hhh!” you moan, unable to truly speak with your stretched out lips. You began to kick your legs trapped together by your pants pulled halfway down. He pulls his fingers out of your heat and replaces them with his dick already dipping with precum. You let out a satisfied groan as he stretches you, filling you up completely, pushing inside you all the way to the hilt.

He shoves his slick covered fingers in your mouth, feeding you your own cum before hooking them in your mouth like his other hand, using your lips to grip you while slamming rhythmically into your plush behind. Your fingers clutch the edge of the table trying to steady yourself as you curse and scream in pleasure.

Wanting to pick up speed, Kakashi grabs you by the elbows pulling your arms behind your back as he unleashes the pent up sexual desire that had been building in him from imagining you in your sexy red dress.

“Oo-ohh, ye-esss, babb-byyy” you say broken up by each stroke that slams into your cervix.

Wanting more, he switches his grip to your throat, pushing deeper with each thrust. Your eyes are rolling backwards with pleasure. You start to gasp for air as you feel yourself toppling over the edge leaving cream all over Kakashi’s cock.

He adjusts his grip again, putting one hand on your neck and a pinky in your rear. Normally he’d save this for a punishment but he couldn’t resist. You were squirming so much already and he wanted to see your squirm more. A guttural groan fell out of your mouth as he slid in, making his stomach coil.

You start to go limp after your orgasm so Kakashi flips you on your back, lifting your restrained legs over one shoulder, pulling you to the edge of your kitchen table. Your fingers once more curling around the edge for support. You gaze up at him with a look of satisfied exhaustion, smiling as he plows into you. He hugs your knees as he slows down. Stroking slow and even. You whine and wiggle around wanting him to go fast again. He centers your legs, knees stuck together, on his chest, letting your ankles fall open on either side of his head.

He leans down, pressing your legs into your chest going in deep. He keeps a medium pace as he sticks a finger back in your mouth. You obediently suck on it hoping you’ll be rewarded with more speed. He sticks a second finger in. You accept it gladly. He starts to smile and adds a third finger. You willingly take it into your mouth sucking as drool starts to dribble out the corner of your lips. He adds a fourth finger stroking them in and out of your mouth.

“You’re a greedy little slut tonight, aren’t you?”

“Mhm” you say with doe eyes. He smiles ready to give you your reward. He takes his hand out of your mouth and grabs your tit as he picks up the pace slamming into you over and over again. Your back arched off the table in ecstasy. His balls tightened as he watched your eyes roll back before squeezing shut. “That’s it Angel, let it out.”

You scream as your legs shake. Your back begins to convulse as he continues to split you in two during your orgasm.

Kakashi’s toes curl as he’s close to cumming. At the last minute he pulls out and sprays his sticky ropes all over your chest. Still panting and catching your breath, you take a finger and wipe up some of his cum and bring it to your mouth. “Mmmm” you hum. Smiling at him as you lick.

He pulls you up by the back of your head to kiss you, even though he was still catching his own breath, he can’t help himself. He loves you and can’t think of a better way to show you. You know exactly what to do to drive him wild. He can’t get enough of your swollen lips. He inhales deep before releasing your mouth with several small kisses. Smiling at you, heart full. He goes to grab you a damp cloth to clean up your chest when he musters up the courage to ask:

“Would it be all that bad if I were your date to the Gala, officially speaking?”

“Huh?”

“If people were to know about us. Would it be so bad?”

“Kashi, we’ve been over this. I don’t want people to think I’m sleeping my way to the top, especially now that you’re Hokage.”

“Everyone knows how bright you are. No one would assume any merits you earn are because of me.”

“That’s all everyone will think. I wouldn’t be able to stand the scrutiny.”

“If anyone causes you trouble then they will have me to deal with.”

“And have you make it worse? I don’t think so.”

At that moment Obito came to your house. He was hoping to steal another moment with you but he heard Kakashi’s voice so he stayed outside, listening in on your conversation.

“So am I just going to be your secret forever?”

“No, just till you step down as Hokage.”

“Till I step down? That will be years. I don’t think I can hide you for that long.”

You cast your eyes down realizing how big a commitment that was to ask of him.

“Are you going to ask me to marry you in secret too? Be your secret husband? Cause I’m not waiting till I’m out of office to ask for your hand.”

Your eyes shot up wide. “You, you’ve thought about marrying me?”

Still outside eavesdropping, Obito felt he had been punched in the gut.

“Is that surprising to you?”

“I guess I hadn’t stopped to think about it.” Your stomach was doing flips realizing how serious Kakashi was about you.

“You see my face every day. The last person to see my face was my father. What does that tell you?” he says playing with your hair.

“Kakashi…”

“You have my trust completely. I am yours forever.” He says, closing his hands around yours.

“I…I want all that with you. I do, but I’m not ready. I don’t know if I can handle what people will think and say. I’m sorry Kashi.”

Kakashi is having a hard time hearing your words. He starts to wonder if it has to do with Obito. He pulls up his mask and gets dressed.

“Please don’t leave Kashi, please” you say, feeling panicked. Getting up off the table, tugging at his arm. You pull him into you, forcing him to hug you.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Kash. I wish I could change the way I feel, I do, but I’m not ready.” tears are leaking out of the corners of your eyes.

“I’m sorry too. I need some time to think.” He pushes you away heading towards the door.

“Kashi, Please!” Desperation thick in your voice.

He turns around, pain painted all over his features. “Do you know what it’s like for me to watch men look at you thinking you’re single? What it’s like to hear how they talk about you knowing they believe you’re available for the taking? What it’s like to be in the same room as you but pretend you are nothing more than a colleague? It was fun in the beginning but I can’t do this forever.”

“You don’t think I go through the same thing? Every girl wants you. But you have nothing to lose, where I will lose the respect of all my peers. No one will take me seriously. Everything that I’ve worked for will be lost.”

“I will take you seriously. Me, the Hokage. Can’t that be enough?”

You swallow hard as you look down in thought. Kakashi kisses your forehead and whispers, “Come to me when you figure it out.” and with that he left.

You stood there crying in your living room, staring at the door through which he left. You felt like he was asking you to choose between him and your career. It's not as simple as he makes it seem.

After a few moments you find it in yourself to move from where your feet were planted and begin putting your clothes back on, tears still streaming down your face.

Obito finally decided to make his presence known. He walked through your front door without knocking, “Now’s not the time, Obito.” you sniffle

He comes in and immediately hugs you, holding you in his warm embrace. “It’ll be okay Princess”

“You’re just saying that cause you hope it’s over between us.” you mutter into his chest beginning to cry even harder.

“No, Princess, I wouldn’t hope for anything that hurts you.” he whispers, moving you over to the couch to sit together. You look up at his face and believe him. That look in his eyes where the universe has shifted to revolve around you is front and center. He stays with you, holding you as you lay on his chest. “What can I do to help, Princess?”

“Be the Hokage” you say sarcastically with a hint of seriousness

He lets out a small chuckle, “That used to be my dream, you know.”

“What changed?” you say with a sniffle

“I did some things that I can’t take back.”

Unsure of what to say, you choose to nestle into Obito in response. He had never been so vulnerable with you before.

Tightening his embrace he says to you,“You wouldn’t have to go through any of this if you were with me. It would be easy, the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Give it a rest Obito.”

He kisses your temple and continues to hold you, deciding to drop the topic. He stays with you till you cry yourself to sleep. He carries you to your bed and kisses your salty tear-stained cheek before leaving. His heart ached from how much he was beginning to love you. He was all but certain you would never leave Kakashi. It pained him to know you wouldn’t have to endure any of your fears if you would just choose him. Why wouldn’t you just choose him? He looked back at you longingly, over his shoulder, before shutting the door behind him.

Part 5 Masterlist

98 notes · View notes

s0lam33y · 3 months

Text

I CARE 4 YOU

[shuririweek, day 1: fluff]

summary: basic sick-fic. Shuri is hella stubborn, that’s abt it.

A/n: Ive had to redo this a good 3 times. Anyway, this was requested on my old acc and I’ve finally finished up, hopefully whoever requested this is still around 😭

@shuririweek @mal-urameshi @neptoons1998

I love going on missions. More than anything. But this one had to get cut short once I got news of Shuri being sick. I’ve only been gone for 48 hours, I’ve just landed back from a mission only to hear that my beautiful wife is sick. And I thought that shit was a joke because how the fuck does she get sick? She’s got one of the most powerful plants in her system and not only that we’ve got the most advanced technology known to man.

I crack the bedroom door open only to find Shuri turned into a mass of blankets wrapped up in our thick comforter. I drop my duffel bag in front of the door and walk towards her, peeling away the layers of the covers.

I hear her heavy breathing and I see her pretty face in real-time for the first time in 2 days. Her cheeks are hot and sweat dampens her skin.

“Hey, baby…” I whisper doing my best to keep my volume down. She doesn’t respond, her eyes shut close and her body curled into itself. I gather her in my arms and it’s enough for her to blink her pretty eyes open.

The white in her eyes is red and her skin is damn near dripping.

“Have you not had any medicine?” I question, whether she shouldn’t be doing this bad with how much tech we have. But knowing her, she’s so damn stubborn. I should know better than to ask, her throat is probably scratchy.

“I’m fine.” She mumbles trying to turn around but her body is too weak to.

I move her curls out of the way and look at her clothing, my red MIT sweats and a white shirt, the same outfit she was in when I last FaceTimed her right before landing.

She hasn’t left her room at all, I’m assuming while I peel back her shirt to feel how damp it is, I touch the skin along her abdomen and it’s hot to the touch.

I grab her wrist to navigate her kimoyo beads and begin to administer some herbal medicine.

“Griot, give me Shuri’s Stats please,” I order.

“Griot, don’t do that.” She groans, grabbing my wrist.

“I’m sorry, Your Highnesses, whose orders do I follow?” Griot questions and she reacts too slowly for him to catch anything.

“Mine,” I answer clearly.

“The Queen’s temperature is at 101 degrees Fahrenheit, she’s been in and out of sleep for 30 hours, her heart rate is at 69 beats per minute,”

The only thing alarming is her temperature.

“Shuri, I ain't tryna scold you right now, but why didn’t you say nothing?” I ask only for her to groan.

“M’fine, it happens.”

“Walk then,” I tell her and she looks at me like I’m crazy. Then she rubs her eyes and sits up slowly. She’s only sitting up because I’m supporting her back so I let go only for her back to hit the bed.

“Fuck off.” She curses and it makes me laugh harder than I have all week. When I’m done laughing, I help her off the bed and onto the sofa bed that’s across from it.

I change the sheets for her to her favorite dark purple ones and clean up all the stuff she’s left around the room.

“Griot, did the Queen get her shots this year?” I ask, I’m not sick and no one else in the citadel is. I settle next to her and she’s not asleep, just blinking slow as fuck.

“Yes, however, it had left her system once she took the herb,”

She had a challenge to the throne a week ago by someone from the river tribe, and she was fine at first. Maybe that entire month of training drained her body a lot.

“Is there any other reason why she could be so sick?”

“The Queen hasn’t had a sufficient amount of water in a couple of days, Her body is also trying to handle the effects of the herb being back in her body,” Griot says as I place her head onto my thighs and watch her lie down. Her lips are parted just a little and her breathing is so shallow.

“I’m fine like I’m okay,” She insists.

“Dude, literally shut up,” I say and it earns me a dopey smile.

She’s shaking a little and her clothes are nearly drenched I feel her forehead with the back of my hand. She’s nowhere near burning up. Her skin feels normal just damp. What the fuck is goin on?

I’m confused, this AI ain’t helping me, I hate this.

I get up slowly so I don’t move too fast. I’ve spent days bandaging her up as she has for me but this is sickness, not wounds. There’s not a single scientific explanation I can think of that explains this.

“Griot, what should I do?”

“Keep her awake, A very hot shower should help, a couple of herbs can be found in the garden that should be able to ease her pain, I’ll make a list for you and you may demand it once ready.”

Sounds like a plan.

….

“Shuri, get in the shower,” I order only for her to glare at me.

“No, you don’t see how hot it is? Are you mad?” She asks, sniffling while steam fills up the bathroom.

“You’ve fought wars, Shuri, get in the shower, ‘it’ll help I swear,” I tell her. She’s always been so picky about the temperature in the shower which is one of the reasons why we can’t ever shower together. She loves her a cold shower and I can’t stand it. I wouldn’t take a cold shower if you paid me. She says they help her get ready for the day but I would never.

“You already naked man, just get in the water,” I mutter, she’s only in a towel and she’s already undressed. I need her to just get in.

“A’ight listen, man, If you don’t get in the damn shower-“

“Then what?” She challenges, letting out a little cough while she’s at it. I’ve lifted her before, that’s only happened recently. I wasn’t able to do that when I first met her. But I’ll do it again if I have to.

“Shuri, please, it’s not that bad.” She steps closer and puts her hand out to feel the water.

“It’s too hot.”

“I’ll get in with you.” I offer.

“I guess it’s not so bad then.”

…

“Shuri, open your mouth,” I tell her, calmly as I pour the syrup into a cup. She looks at me in disgust and shakes her head like a kid. It’s medicinal syrup, made here that I take when I’m sick and I feel better by the morning.

But unlike Shuri, I ain’t this fucking stubborn.

She turns over in bed till she’s lying on her back. After a couple of seconds, her mouth opens slightly for her to breathe.

“Fine.” She groans before taking it all in one sip. Her lips curl in disgust before she lifts the comfort over her body and I can hear her breathing as she huffs. She turns so her back faces me.

“You’re acting like a kid.” I chuckle when she coughs.

“You’re the height of one.”

“You sure you sick? ‘Cause you got a lot of slick-ass comments.” She doesn’t say anything and I realize it’s because she’s finally asleep.

We end up falling asleep soon after and she wakes up, refreshed, earlier than I do. Like she was never sick. I have to get back to my mission but I wake up feeling dizzy, my head is pounding.

I feel her hand on my forehead, gently caressing my baby hairs while I do my best to sit up.

“Tell them you can’t make it to the mission.” She murmurs.

#shuririweek2024 #riri williams #shuri udaku #shuriri

81 notes · View notes

munv · 10 months

Note

Can i have a request????? heartslabyul with belphie/belphegor reader like sleepy but strong and smart

𝗦𝗟𝗨𝗠𝗕𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗗𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗘𝗦

Work work work work work and giggles for fun

I’m surprisingly doing well since I’m mainly lazy when it comes to this type of stuff. But we UP!!

RIDDLE is pissed off with you. End of story. Why..why are you so smart but you can’t dedicate any of it to your studies?! It doesn’t matter anyways, he’s going to make you apply yourself to the most representable student he can make you.

He came into a room once and you were asleep in the table. This is going to be a problem clearly and he’s not having it. He wonders where all the energy you should Ah e gotten from sleep goes so many times tis actually scary.

As his s/o he expects you to have a healthy schedule, aside from sleep it comes to the point sometimes you don’t even wake up for a meal! Remember that time you didn’t attend the unbirthday party? That’s when he found out.

You actually have really good grades..how could this be possible! You don’t even wake up to shower at times so how is it that you could have done the work? After his overbolt he cut you some slack.

Whenever he gets chased down by Floyd he goes to you first because first you serve a good distraction, and it’s not like you wake up when you’re being squeezed. He feels bad but what has it be done must be down for survival.

TREY actively spoils you and it shouldn’t even be fair at this rate. He’s just such a good boyfriend.

You’re too tired to walk? Easy you are now being carried with your pillow around campus for classes. He doesn’t ask you for help on your work as often since he’s also pretty smart, yet when he doesn’t understand he just goes to riddle instead. As much as he loves you just fall asleep before he could get half of question 2 in.

He wakes you up for breakfast and everything just like riddle but he isn’t as strict about it. He lets you sleep in 3 minutes late or so before dragging you to wherever.

When he found out you were a demon he took to it a bit lightly than anyone else..not really but still the shock was still there. He doesn’t mind at all since you don’t do anything bad and you’re too lazy to do anything productive.

CATER just bothers you 25/8. He likes to send to help out the first years to keep you on your toes but it’s not like it works anyways since you just fall asleep anyways.

At some point you just bit him because he was annoying you. “Hey..sweetheart did you just..bite me?” He said with his eye twitching slightly as you hugged your pillow.

He was on live and it just so happened to not be your happy day. “Ion know, did I?” You said with lidded eyes ready to drift off again.

guess who wasn’t allowed to have their favorite pillow for hours. Yes it was you goddamnit.

He likes to feed you cute little things at cafe’s and post it on Magicam. One was a cute little photo was over 1million views that had frosting on your nose while looking at the camera with a pout.

Safe to say he gatekept you for a month since people wouldn’t stop trying to advance on you.

ACE was 2 months into the relationship but then found out you were a demon. Reaction to your other form? Flabbergasted. You out of all people? A literal demon? But being the avatar of sloth explained everything in perfect context.

Would ace be ace if he didn’t take advantage of this? Absolutely not. Guess who got dragged into multiple shit because someone’s sadistic boyfriend thought it would be romantic to suffer again.

Romantic date in detention this week? Meet him at 6 PM. He’s letting you know you both are going to break out the window with grim after too.

He copies off your homework because it’s not like you do anything about it, and when he can he just has you as a literal bed. He’s taller than you so he just uses you as someone to Lean on when he gets bored.

DEUCE is just like trey in the prospect of somewhat spoiling you. He only Carries you to class tho. If anything he panics because he look so distant and disinterested while being in a relationship with you only to find out that’s just your normal sleepy expression.

Tries to be strict with you but fails miserably? Check. He got hit with your tail more times than to count and poked by your horns even though they are literally in a curled like position. He follows you around because he knows the delinquents try to pick fights with you sometimes. What a darling!

Sometimes you just stare at him and he stares back, you fall asleep and he’s like “they said they want gummy bears.”

“Deuce what the fuck?” Ace stared at him in astonishment

You both just communicate like that so y’all locked in 🫶

He probably makes lunch for you with the help of trey and feeds you very often.

259 notes · View notes

writingseaslugs · 10 months

Text

Ignihyde: When They're Sick

Broskis, do you know how hard it is to write about an advanced AI robot kid getting sick? I had to actually use my brain to figure out how it might work, but I’m proud of what I ended up with, so I guess it all ended well. Please do enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please click the “Au Information” below!

Request Information | Masterlist | Au Information

Ignihyde: When They’re Sick

Oddly enough, when your diet consists of nothing but junk food, and you stay awake all night, it’s not uncommon to become sick. Idia knows this and tries to take somewhat decent care of himself, but it’s not going to stop him from eating noodles for every meal and sleeping after the sun has long since come up. In summary…Idia often finds himself sick from his own doing. This normally wasn't a problem since he could do online classes and had Ortho taking care of him, but when his beloved little brother happened to have gotten a virus somehow and was barely functioning. This meant Idia and Ortho were left to their own devices in trying to not die from a common illness and a computer virus.

Idia Shroud

Honestly Idia simply doesn’t care when he’s sick. Oh so he can’t sit on his computer all day without wanting to pass out? That’s fine, he has a handheld console and mobile games he needs to catch up on anyway. He isn’t the best at taking care of himself, which is why Ortho is normally the one to do it. When Ortho isn’t around…Lord help this man. He will be gaming even in death; health be damned. He will ignore all signs that his body is telling him to rest and continue to stay awake too late and chug energy drinks, even if he knows it’s going to make him worse.

How you found out he was sick without Ortho being there to inform you had to be some sort of magic. Idia is reluctant to even let you into the room, but he acknowledges the fact that you simply won’t leave and will bust down the door if he doesn’t; so he allows it. He’s going to be humiliated at the fact that you need to take care of him, and will constantly be saying that he’s gross and you shouldn’t get near or else you might get sick too. Ignore him and take care of the boy, he needs it. He can be scolded for self-deprecation when he’s all better, for now just assure him that he’s not gross and if you didn’t want to help him, you wouldn’t be there.

Honestly he doesn’t really need a whole lot of medication to make him feel better, the bare minimum is required. He might complain about it the entire time, but in the end he’ll take whatever you’ve brought. He swears up and down it won’t be very helpful, but after he starts feeling better he’s singing a different tune, but silently. He at least won’t complain when you hand him some pills anymore and take it without question. He’s going to call them stamina potions though to make himself feel better, saying he needs them to get rid of the sick buff he’s dealing with.

Unless you’re going to be chilling with him in his room for the entire time he’s sick, you’ll need to raid his bedroom and take away all the energy drinks, snacks, and instant noodles. They’re gonna make him feel worse but if he’s hungry and needs a boost of energy, he’s grabbing those when you’re not around. Thankfully he’s too ill and socially awkward to leave his room while he’s dying from a cold, so he won’t go out and grab things he doesn’t need. Leave him some healthy snacks and water bottles when you leave, and when you come to feed him make sure it actually has some nutritional value. His body might not know what to do with vegetables right away, but it’ll sort itself out in due time.

He doesn’t want to talk about it when he’s better; acting like it never happened is the best way to go about it. He will thank you a few times, and if you’re a gamer expect him to be sending you new skins for your characters, or dlc to your favorite games. He won’t say it’s for helping him while he’s sick, but you’ll know. He knows as well; and Ortho especially knows since the moment he’s back to normal he’s interrogating his brother about how he miraculously got better.

Ortho Shroud

Ortho isn’t going to be getting sick in the traditional way since he’s a robot, but something like a virus could cause some serious damage. Of course it doesn’t ever really happen, but sometimes things can’t be accounted for. One wrong site with the right kind of hacker and it’s over. Virus was installed and now Ortho is all out of sorts while Idia is trying to figure out how to get rid of it. If it’s a complex one…well it might take a day or two.

Ortho is still functioning to some degree, but his battery life keeps getting sapped and he’s constantly sitting on a charger and a little mopey that he can’t do what he normally does. It’s probably why he messaged you, since he can’t exactly assist his brother either. The moment you find out you better be over there to help out the little brother. The poor dear is going through it and doesn’t even know what’s wrong. For all he knows, it could infect his memory database and destroy everything he’s learned about you. So just sit there and help him out.

Laughter is the best medicine in this situation, so as long as you’re not bothering Idia, feel free to try and make Ortho feel more comfortable. Grab your phone and watch stupid cat videos, talk about something random that’s happened in your day, and play some multiplayer games on handheld devices. He’ll instantly be feeling lighter and more like himself, even if he does have to constantly reboot throughout the entire day.

While Ortho is rebooting or recharging and is offline, you might as well help Idia in any way you can. As long as that man is functioning, Ortho can be fixed. So maybe just bring him something to eat, maybe grab some water. It’s all for Ortho in the end anyway, and Idia will thank you for helping him. You might be asked to help him figure some simple things out, or check on Ortho as well.

Once the virus is cleared from his system he is going to be so energetic and asking to go and do things with you. He doesn’t even know how to begin repaying you for this, but he promises once he figures it out, he’ll let you know. He’ll be asking Idia for advice, but the poor man doesn’t have a single clue either. It’s the thought that counts, and just seeing Ortho being peppy and energetic again is all you really need, especially when you discover that nothing is permanently damaged in his hard drive.

#Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST #TWST x Reader #TWST Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland Disney #TWST Disney #Idia Shroud #Idia Shroud x Reader #Idia x Reader #Ortho Shroud #Ortho Shroud and Reader #Ortho and Reader

231 notes · View notes

sometipsygnostalgic · 6 months

Text

Video game console and case design

Today's hyperfixation is on the PLAYSTATION 5. Because I want one, but I really shouldn't buy one, so I am just looking up everything to do with games consoles and burning my brain out.

I used to be a proper xbox player, until I got my PC, then I never really touched by xbox again. I got a PS4 to play Persona 5 and since then it's been a blu ray player for my Adventure Time boxset, not much else. But the current gen - PS5, Series X - is arguably more powerful than my gaming PC, and I still have a lot of friends stuck on PS5, so I am considering investing in a unit.

Anyway is it me or did they really shit the bed with design in this generation?

Look at these chunky fuckers! They do not fit smoothly under your television at all. There is no detail or decoration breaking up their unnecessarily large faces, which makes them look bland and ugly. They look like they're made of cheap plastic, with the two controllers being the highest quality thing about them. I can attest the xbox controller is unbeatable, but playstation really made their shot this generation. A shame I can never get used to the dualshock joystick positioning.

The Series S and the PS5 Slim are almost NO improvement on the base designs.

For some reason they made the Series S look like a speaker???

The new PS5 slim FINALLY has a line across that massive faceplate, but the half matte half glossed finish is not doing it any favours. I think it would've looked much better if, for example, the matte and gloss plates were different colours. Like black and white! It also has an even MORE out of place disc drive, which I think is part of Sony's agenda to go digital only, and the two tiny "feet" for its horizontal positioning are pathetic! Personally I like this more than the original but not significantly, disappointing since I was really looking forward to it.

I want you to compare these nasties to the previous generation - the PS4 and the XBOX One.

....Now, what's hilarious about this image is the consoles look ALMOST IDENTICAL from this angle. And, I guess, that would be why Sony and Microsoft decided to make such a departure with the space heater PS5 and the fridge Series X.

But they both look very premium and advanced, and they fit very nicely in your living room.

The companies tried to look a bit more distinguished in their followup versions in the previous gen too. The white PS4 Pro looks a lot closer to PS5 with its quirkiness, but without the atrocious shiny plastic. Sony tended to add or remove a layer whenever they altered the PS4, I wonder what they would look like all stacked on top of each other.

It's not just the games console designs that suffer - Look at the game cases! I know that the companies want to incentivise you to go digital, but Xbox Series X cases are just awful.

So if you're confused - You should be!!! Microsoft have two kinds of case for the Series X. One of them is the EXACT SAME CASE as Xbox One, but with Series X printed on the front. The second newer version foregoes the sexy Xbox logo entirely and just has Xbox Series X printed in some default font. Awful awful awful.

Playstation is doing better, but barely.

They are reusing PS4 cases with a different print on them. It doesn't look as horrible as Xbox's, and it at least has a different colour on the logo, but damn, the jump between PS3/360 and PS4/One was really impressive, and now they've stopped bothering because they want everyone to go digital. If your game cases look like shit, why bother with physical?

I want to contrast with physical media kings Nintendo, who did an outstanding job in 2017 with designing the case for the Nintendo Switch.

These bad boys are mine. They're super thin, easy to stack, decent quality, and F U N. The red colour pallette makes them pop out. You can see one from across the store and go, "damn, that's a Nintendo Switch game".

I just want a thousand of them.

I would say a disadvantage, especially compared to the Gamecube games next to them, and even compared to 3ds, is that you can't tell what game you're looking at without going right up to them. These cases are TOO uniform, and really tiny, so i have to triple check I am picking up Xenoblade Chronicles 3 and not Tony Hawk Pro Skater. Meanwhile you can tell exactly what Gamecube games I have by colour pallette alone. Like, you can instantly tell that's Windwaker.

The switch in general is a very fun looking games console, much nicer looking than its predecessor the Wii U, though I'm not sure how I feel about the white of the OLED. But every time I see a Switch Lite in stores, even though I know it's worse than my Switch, I want to buy one. It just looks so FUUUUUN.

And finally a special mention to the 3DS and its games case. The console itself was pretty stylish, if... rudimentary for its release period, but the games cases are high quality and almost make me want to have 3ds games just so I can have the cases.

#nintendo #xbox #playstation #ps5 #series x #ps4 #xbone #nintendo switch #3ds #gaming

79 notes · View notes

vilevvords · 2 years

Text

Earned it — Ushijima Wakatoshi // NSFW

word count: 2k

content note: just big strong man loving you on your birthday, oral sex - f!receiving, slight overstimulation

a/n: i've never written smut before so this is a first lmao i don't know what to think of it but i'm putting it here anyway and go to sleep gn

mdni

Ushijima prefers to not leave things to chance when he can help it. That is why he starts preparing months in advance for your birthday. It’s not like he thinks about it constantly but it enters his mind as soon as the six-months-left mark rolls around.

He lingers in front of jewelry stores a tad bit longer, looks at adverts more intently, his mind wandering off to imagine you in the dress the model is wearing, and bookmarks some of the lavishly expensive perfumes you tried at the airport and he knew you liked but would never buy for yourself. He makes a reservation at a nice restaurant, is sure to pick the one with the best view of the city, and even buys a new suit just for the occasion. All without looking at any of the price tags because his job is paying well and the thought doesn’t even occur to him that any money spent on you is ever wasted.

Ushijima’s mind is rather simple: he knows that when you take, you also give. And he finds himself relying on you more than you think he is because after all, he is big and strong and if anything, you’re usually the one asking him for help.

But Ushijima Wakatoshi isn’t a man whom words come to easily so you’re unaware of the fact that he looks forward to the shoulder rubs you give him when he comes home from a long day of practice, easing the knots in his muscles with skilled hands. You don’t know how your presence alone is enough to lull him to sleep faster and let him rest better at night even when you’re not touching because his mind is at ease just knowing you’re in reach. You don’t know how restless he gets on away games because there are things he wants to show you and experiences he would like to make together with you, yet the only consolation he has in moments like these is that you’re home, waiting for him.

And because he never tells you these things, and because he’s a simple man, it’s nothing short of obvious that he would want to do everything in his power to make you feel valued on your day.

Waking up in your shared bed with him still beside you was rare given that he usually was out and about as soon as the first ray of sunshine dared to peek through the curtains, leaving the warmth of the covers and getting ready for a morning run. Though today, he is still beside you, sleeping soundly and you relish in being able to shuffle closer to him, lay your head on his chest, and find yourself getting lulled back into slumber from the steady beat of his heart.

Ushijima had already given you your presents when the clock struck midnight, engulfing you in a hug and kissing the crown of your head lovingly. You had muttered strings of “You shouldn’t have” and “That’s too much” in between kisses, sitting among boxes of presents and wrapping paper.

It had gotten late when you finally went to bed last night, fully expecting to sleep in and let the morning pass by without you. Though looking at the clock now, it is barely even eight.

You feel him shift beside you when you start drawing small circles onto his chest, muttering your apologies as tired eyes peek open to take in your form. A hand comes up to caress your side in a large lengthwise motion, stopping briefly on its way down to softly squeeze the flesh of your hip.

“Good morning, birthday girl,” he mutters with a voice that’s hoarse from the night and in response, you lean into him, cupping his cheek and kissing the corner of his mouth, lips lingering for a bit longer; a silent Good morning to you, too.

A small smile forms on his face as he lets you nestle closer into his side, your cheek now pressed against his and the slight stubble of his beard prickling on your skin. His hands hug your body close, firmly keeping you in your place by his side but the longer you’re lying tangled like this, the more they start to wander.

He makes sure not to overwhelm you, giving you time to adjust to his touch, to ward off some of the slumber still sticking to you. It is evident in the way his hands move with caution, calloused fingertips tracing your skin in a gentle and soothing fashion, like a promise leading up to something more.

You start squirming in his hold, seeking his touch and chasing after the warmth where his hands just left your skin almost mechanically, and he knows what you need without even so much as a single word.

An arm reaches behind you and you’re being turned over in one swift motion, your back now flat against the mattress as he shifts on his arms to hover over you. His warm eyes burn into yours, gentle and affectionate, but looking closely there’s more; something deeply sensual swirling in between hues of hazel.

Pressing a brief kiss to his collarbone, one of your hands wanders up to run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head as he starts going down on you, warm hands brushing over the curves of your body oh so lovingly that you could tear up at his touch.

He’s delicate with you, almost overly so. Fingers trail the hem of your shorts before he gently hooks a finger under the fabric, tugging them down your legs.

Strong hands reach up to grab the back of your thighs, picking them up and resting them over his shoulders. His hold remains firm as to keep them in place as he brings his face closer to your cunt. Looking up at you, he slowly starts drawing circles onto your thigh; a way of seeking reassurance that you really want this. You nod like in a state of euphoria before he averts his eyes again, focus shifting to be solely on your pleasure.

Ushijima presses a kiss to your abdomen, then to your inner thigh. You feel yourself melting under his touch, your back arching off the mattress and hips bucking forward when he finally starts lapping at your clit, drawing a sigh from your lips. An arm creeps around your right leg, his palm pressing down on your abdomen and fingers spreading your folds to grant himself easier access, your leg securely held up by resting on the bend of his elbow. He pushes his tongue inside of you and you swear you can feel him smirking against you as a breathy moan escapes your lips.

Your hands are tangled in his hair, softly tugging at his strands while he’s working you, holding you in place to stop you from writhing in his arms. The sounds of you both fill the room, your soft moans and his deep groans resounding in every corner of it to complete the pornographic picture.

His lips curl around your clit, sucking in a steady rhythm that is only disrupted when you accidentally tug at his hair more forcefully and make him lose contact with your cunt briefly before he dives back in almost fervently.

The both of you stay like this until your legs are shaking uncontrollably, pleasure washing over you like a cluster bomb exploding within. Your legs involuntarily come to close around his head but he holds them open with strong hands as a way of silently urging Let me in.

And he lets you ride out your orgasm on his tongue, lapping up your juices as you tremble in his hold. Were you to ask him, he would truthfully tell you that he is content just having you selfishly use him for your pleasure while the pressure forming in his own stomach is met with neglect, as long as he gets to take you in with all his senses.

It is only when your moans start to blend with exclamations of Too much, ‘Toshi, too much that he pulls away briefly, shoulders heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Still, he remains where he is, his hold on your thighs not yielding.

He mindlessly starts caressing your inner thigh, waiting for you to come down from your high before he brings his head down again, kissing your clit with a kind of insatiable desire and setting a temperate pace as he repeatedly flicks his tongue over it.

On instinct, he starts slowly grinding his hips into the mattress, seeking some sort of relief for himself, only he feels he shouldn't because today is about you and you only. Like it is his self-acclaimed duty to make you feel loved, desired, needed. But his hips move like a mantra, driven by the way his name falls from your tongue and your hands hold onto him for support as he’s working you so well, knowing no one else knows your body the way he does, loves it the way he does, worships it the way he does.

His entire face is pressed to your cunt and you’re not sure how he is still able to breathe because he is so close that it’s overwhelming to the point where he’s the sole thing on your mind; he and the pleasure he brings you.

He starts messaging the flesh of your hips as he notices your climax approaching, humming against you, the vibrations pushing you over the edge once more. And once again, he holds you close, strong hands restricting the feeble attempts of your weak muscles to escape, bringing you down from your orgasm until pleasure turns into over-stimulation.

You push him away with the bit of strength you still have and he understands, finally letting go of you. He gently lays your legs back down on the mattress and pushes himself up on his forearms, pressing kisses wet with your arousal all over your body as he’s making his way back up. Hovering over you, he’s taking in your form - panting, covered in a slight sheen of sweat, and your head still slightly bobbing from side to side like in a state of ecstasy. A hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb soothing your skin and holding you still as you slowly come back to your senses, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as you lean into his touch.

As your breathing evens out, your gaze falls to the prominent bulge in his boxers and the spot where his leaking cock paints it a darker color. One of your hands reaches down on instinct alone, wanting to palm it, help relieve him, but he is quick to grab your wrist and brings it up to his neck, purposely denying himself the release of the knot he feels sitting deep in his stomach as he reminds himself that today is about you.

“’Toshi, what about you,” you mutter against his neck, guilt washing over you for not being able to make him feel as good as he made you feel just a moment ago, but Ushijima is quick to console you, leaning down to plant a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another on your cheek, along your jaw, and behind your ear. “Don’t worry about it.”

He embraces you with steady arms, his hold gentle not to hurt you but strong enough to ensure you’re not going to slip away from under him. With one hand on your lower back and the other cradling your head, he strokes your hair softly, pressing you to his chest because you somehow still don’t feel close enough.

And it’s in moments like these that you realize that he might need you more than you realize.

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima smut #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu ushijima #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq ushijima #hq smut #hq #hq x reader #vile nights #vile one shots

2K notes · View notes

hannahssimblr · 1 month

Text

Not coming anymore

Jen’s text message comes in when I’ve already left the house, and I groan as I pull my phone out to see it on the screen.

Are you serious? I’ve already left the house, you have no idea wh-

I delete the message and phone her instead. She picks up after one ring.

“Jen, seriously?”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“What the hell? My mom was going out again tonight and I had to sort a babysitter for Ivy. It took me an hour, and now I've already showered and changed my clothes. I'm on the way to the beach, are you seriously telling me I have to turn back and undo everything I've just done?”

A pause, “No, you can go. I just can’t.”

“Wh-” I fling my arm up and sigh. She can’t expect me to hang out with the emos without her. What if they get peckish and start eating me?

“Michelle isn’t allowed to go, so she doesn’t want me to go either.”

“Oh I see, so Michelle just asked at the last minute. And was shocked and appalled that she’s not allowed? How stupid is that, my god, she isn’t allowed to do anything. Why would she think her parents would let her do this without advanced permission seventy-two hours in advance?”

“Hey! Stop ranting at me! It’s not my fault! I told her I was going to go out anyway and she gave out to me and now we’re mad at each other, okay?”

“She’s miserable so she needs you to be miserable too?”

“Yeah, apparently.”

I scoff, “that makes no sense.”

“Yeah well a lot of things don’t make sense in Michelle’s world.”

I sigh and turn to face the sea. The sun has only begun to set and toss colour over the clouds. It’s a nice evening, the kind that makes you guilty about staying in, and so my annoyance at Jen morphs quickly into annoyance on her behalf. “Can’t you just come anyway?”

“No, I’m too upset now.”

“Jen…”

“You should go. I already told Evan you were going to meet him there, and you could probably use the fresh air and conversation… I can’t bear to think about you stuck in your room drawing your own fucking toes on an evening like this.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll still go.”

“Good, I’ll talk to you later, and you can tell me all about what happened.”

“I’ll come over, yeah?”

“If it’s not too late.”

“Bye, Jen.”

“Yep.”

Speaking of Evan, I spot him up ahead, dashing over the grassy bank towards the path with his dirty old school bag bobbing on his back. I call out to him but he doesn’t hear me, so stuffing my phone back into my pocket I begin an easy jog toward him.

“Evan,” I do a half jump onto his shoulders and he almost dies with fright, his knees practically going from under him, and twists around combatively to realise it’s only me.

“Fuck,” he wheezes, “Fuck sake!” He yanks his earbuds out, pulsing with the tinny beats of some pop punk song , “You fucking scared me!”

“I know, I’m sorry, I need to stop doing that, it’s just a habit.”

“Yeah, God.” He combs fingers through his floppy fringe and sets it in place in a gesture, habitual and a bit compulsive, that he repeats constantly.

I fall into step with him once he has gathered himself and I smirk, “Why are you so jumpy, Evan?”

“I dunno.”

“What do you think I’m going to do to you?”

“Nothing, I just… This is how I am. I don’t like it when people sneak up on me, it makes me nervous.”

“C’mon, it’s either that you’re afraid of getting beaten up or you’re afraid of getting caught doing something you shouldn’t, that’s what I think.”

“Wow, aren’t you full of theories?”

I laugh, “And related to all this, what’s in your locker, Evan? What are you always guarding it for?”

The corner of his mouth ticks up as he glances at me, “My locker? Do you really want to know?”

It's not like I care that much, because honestly, how exciting can it really be? It's the locker of a seventeen year old boy, so it probably contains a mouldy lunchbox and the crumpled remains of last month's chemistry assignment, but Evan seems pleased that I've asked him about it. I feign interest for his sake.

“Well, yeah, of course I do.”

He swings his bag off his back and fumbles through the front pocket. It’s got a huge ink stain on it and the zip has broken, so it’s just hanging wide open, “I’m showing you because I know you probably won’t tell anyone, you know, seeing as you don’t really have friends anymore.”

“Harsh,” I say, but not untrue. Even since the cowards from rugby took Fitzy’s side in our tussle over Alison’s nudes my lunchtime calendar has looked a lot emptier than it used to. Where there used to be banter at the picnic benches there is now... decidedly nothing at all, save, maybe, for a few unimpressed glances my way, an accidental or not-so-accidental shove against my shoulder in the hallway. Maybe my absorption in art is related to this somehow, but I haven’t been in the headspace to psychoanalyse myself that much lately. My mind is so full of values, tone, shape, and line quality that it has (blissfully) no room for other, less interesting things...

But, as it appears, this is interesting.

Evan pulls out a bag of pills, about twenty, all blue with little batman symbols on them, then digs his hand back in for another, this time filled with green buds.

I look at him and say simply, “You’re a drug dealer.”

“Yeah, man.”

“That makes sense.”

“Yeah, I've been at it a while now, I think I have a pretty good business going with it and all... So if you’re ever looking for something, you know…”

“You sell to Alison.”

“Uh huh,” He stuffs the baggies back into the front pocket after a rather over the top glance around him, like he thinks this empty street is suddenly going to burst to life with guards and sirens coming to hunt him down, throw him in handcuffs with a boot against the back of his neck and toss him in Mountjoy prison, like there are no criminals wanted more in Dublin city than Evan Henley and his fifty bag of weed. “She comes to me from time to time, not lately though.”

“Yeah,” I cough out a laugh, “I took your molly a few months ago. It was shit.”

He shrugs, “I get what I can get, not my fault.”

“Hm.”

“You could go to someone else, you know, but there actually isn't anyone else in our school, is there? I have a monopoly.”

“Fair.”

“You won’t like, tell Michelle or anything though, will you?”

I stare at him incredulously, “Michelle doesn’t know?”

“No, she hates all this stuff, like, she’s really strict about all drugs and shit and I just know she'll blow up at me and start shouting and roaring if she knew about it. I’d just rather not deal with it.”

I pause to consider this. It probably isn’t any real harm keeping this from her, is it? It’s not like she needs to know, and realistically if she did she would only freak out and and tell Jen, and then if Jen knew that someone close to her was in possession of any of this stuff she might-

“Yeah, no worries, I won’t tell her.”

He pats my shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie, so I guess we're real buddies now, “Ah, thanks Jude. Had a feeling I could trust you with this stuff.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2009 #i'm sure this is a good idea #lmao #tw: drugs

33 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

tach-seo

الحائط التقني

high-im-kat

Blogging Under The Influence

theoddores-archive

* SINNER .

nabaron47-blog

フィジーク備忘録

savvie666

(灬♥ω♥灬)