#which makes me insane meaning he could have had a chance | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joonberriess · 7 months

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𓆩♡𓆪 “you don’t have to admit you wanna play, just let me rock you till the break of day,” – jock!jk

·˚ ༘ 💌 TAGS — simping at its finest, blowjobs, cum-swallowing, degradation, dumbification, jk is mean but also a praise fanatic, oc is a cute puppy who eats it all up, objectification(?) pretty sure bc jk just has unholy thoughts about oc, oc is THEE it girl, dirty talking, messy lil make-outs, thank you kiss on the tip LOL, PET NAME GALORE, oc is a nice lil bimbo everyone loves ❤️ even jk’s friends luv her

Jungkook listened to whatever the hell Jennie was explaining to him, in truth he stopped paying attention like five minutes ago. He sat there like a fried vegetable just zoning out and nodding mindlessly whenever Jennie looked at him and asked if he agreed etc. He didn’t want to be rude to Jennie but any more of this and he’d go insane he fears.

“So for the powerpoint I was thinking we should..” Jennie’s voice slowly fades out as the sound of the front door opening catches Jungkook’s eye/attention. Holy shit he doesn’t believe what he’s witnessing. He doesn’t realize he’s staring hardcore at Jennie’s poor unsuspecting roommate.

He instantly recognizes you as the girl he sees his team/friends go crazy over. You were quite the talk of the campus—cute, slutty, bimbo-like, these were some of the most common things said. If Jungkook had to admit, you were pretty cute and he’s only ever really seen you casually here and there. He finds himself licking his lips slowly and sitting up while clearing his throat.

“Hi Jennie, hi Jennie’s friend.” You sweetly say while waving at Jungkook politely. He gets an eyeful of tits and soft tummy as you pass by.

You’re wearing this soft pink tracksuit and white baby tee crop top which hugs your pretty little tits just nicely. Don’t even get him started about your backside which is enough in itself to bring a tear to his eye. Jungkook doesn’t realize he’s overdoing it with his staring until Jennie clears her throat pretty loudly.

“Ahem.” She glares at him, “As I was saying,” she shoves her laptop in Jungkook’s face.

He doesn’t see more of you because you end up heading down the hall to your room after saying “bye-bye” to both him and Jennie. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He grunts in annoyance.

“Not my roommate Jeon, you can go about fucking anything that fucking walks and has a hole between their legs but you leave y/n out of your lechery. Got it?” She hisses, “I can see the gears working in that stupid head of yours, so I’m warning you. Now help me with this powerpoint asshole, I’m not doing all the work.”

Jungkook internally groans—overprotective roommate, greaaat.

Whole time he works on the project his mind is filled with obscene thoughts and nasty little daydreams he comes up with just thinking about you. Jungkook’s had his fair share of hook-ups but none have ever truly made him go this crazy before. He’s fucking FIENDING for it, would be on his damn knees begging for you to crush his head with your soft thighs if he could.

Too bad Jennie said you were off-limits though. Unless..

Much to Jungkook’s dismay he doesn’t see you for the remainder of the time he’s there. He does see you more often around campus though, whether it’s you hopping out of your very pink car or you running about all over campus with a pink drink in your hands. He can’t get enough of you, and it’s fucking obvious to his friends who make fun of him for it.

“y/n, Kook? Really?” Yugyeom snorts, “Only in your fucking dreams will you ever hit that, your little guy down there probably wouldn’t even know what to do with all that ass.” Laughter all around them erupts as Yugyeom smugly smirks, happy with himself.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You’re so fucking stupid,” more laughing, “honestly, if anyone has more chances it’s me, you’re all either losers AND she’s never bat an eye at you. I don’t see any action from any of you either, all talk and shit.” He mutters while taking a drag from the blunt they were all passing around.

“Not true! y/n is a nice girl Jungkook.” Jimin snorts, “Watch,” he turns around and looks over the area for you, “hey y/n!” He yells while waving his arms. They all wait patiently for your reaction, low and behold you just end up proving Jimin correct.

You look confused at first until you smile brightly, “Hi,” you wave back while walking over, “what are you guys up to?” You tilt your head, lips pursed in a adorable little pout.

“Smoking.” Yugyeom replies curtly, “Want some?” He holds the blunt out to you.

Jungkook doesn’t know why but that shit irks the fuck out of him, he shoots his friend a glare and fans the smoke out of your direction before it can hit you. You smell like chai mixed with pumpkin, and he definitely does NOT want to ruin your pretty smell.

“No thank you,” you politely reply and then turn to look at Jimin again, “ ‘m a little sad though, because this morning I tried to make waffles but I didn’t know you had to actually pull the lever down and I didn’t get to eat my waffles.” You sigh wistfully, “See?” You hold out the raw and cold waffles wrapped up in a napkin, “And I don’t like it,” you shake your head, “you’re my friend right Jiminie? Can you buy me some waffles from the cafe pretty please?” You whine.

Jimin turns a little red at the nickname and nods, “Here,” he holds out a couple of bills, more than enough.

The other guys scramble for their wallets, “I’m your friend too right y/n?” They say while holding out their own money to you. Jungkook just stands there slack-jawed, he has never seen his own friends this fucking down-bad before. Oh, but they wanted to laugh at him for simping after you? Funny how the tables have turned.

“Reallyyyy?” You breathily giggle while accepting the money, “Thank you!” You kiss Jimin on the cheek before skipping away with literally breakfast, lunch, and dinner money.

“But I’M the fuckin’ simp? Yeah, totally.” Jungkook scoffs while shaking his head.

Jungkook starts making up an excuse to talk to you from then on. He doesn’t have to do much because you do all the talking for him, he just stands there listening to you ramble on and on about something he doesn’t recall asking. He thinks it’s cute when you stop mid-sentence and say in utter confusion, “What was I talking about again?”

If he could, he’d sit there and just listen to you talk all day. He’s surprised how much he likes your ditziness and dumb little brain fart moments, he finds that he doesn’t mind it so much. Like now, he was sitting there propped up against his car in the parking lot listening to you rant about astrology, time-loops, and anime..?

“Yeah?” Jungkook occasionally says while he watches you passionately explain to him what a fucking shinigami was.

“Think about it—politics and death notebooks, they go hand in hand for disaster and doom.” You softly say, completely side-tracking from the original topic, “I wish I had a shinigami though,” you pout while tapping your finger against your chin, “I think Ryuk is pretty cool. Have you seen the anime?”

Jungkook hums, “No, heard of it but haven’t seen it. So like, shinigami’s come with a death note or what?” He asks, ready for another little rant of yours (he doesn’t mind though). His eyes fall down to your pretty camisole you wore today. You were wearing these cute tight jeans that hung low on your hips, he loved the little pink bows you attached to the belt loops.

“Mm-hm,” you nod, “oh! I gotta go before I forget, all my undies shrunk in the dryer and now they’re pretty tight ‘n they fit a little smaller so now I have to buy some more.” You pout, “Bye Jungkookie,” you throw one arm around his neck as you side-hug him, standing on your tippy toes to reach his height as you press a kiss to his cheek, “bye-bye!” You wave and run off.

“Bye..” Jungkook whispers in awe, he smells a hint of your perfume on his shirt and he vows then and there he isn’t going to wash this shirt anytime soon.

The next time that Jungkook sees you it’s when he’s leaving your shared apartment after another project session. He sees you bent over while poking and trying to pull at the gas tank lid, which is obviously sealed shut. He whistles under his breath and walks over, eyes dropping down to your perky ass which is covered in these pretty little shorts which hug both cheeks nice and tight.

“What you doing down there, hm?” Jungkook leans against the car with his arms folded over his chest and an amused smile on his face, “Having fun?”

“Jungkook, hi,” you greet softly while standing up straight, “I was just trying to get this stupid thingy open because Jennie is letting me borrow her car cause mine is in the shop getting the windows tinted,” you pout, “but I don’t know how to open this stupid thing, and I wanna fill her car with gas as a thank you for letting me borrow it. Help meeeee,” you whine tugging at his arm.

“C’mere,” he loosely wraps an arm around your waist and guides you to sit in the driver's seat, “you see this baby?” He squats down so he’s eye-level with you, his free hand rests over your soft thighs while he points with his other, “You just pull this, and wa-la, the gas tank lid pops right open.” He chuckles and squeezes your thigh.

Your eyes brighten, “Reallyyy? How cool, thank you.” You happily throw your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, “no wonder that stupid thing wasn’t opening.” You giggle.

Jungkook takes a deep whiff of your soft coconut smell, he closes his eyes and sighs in pure bliss. This was the dream dammit, he never wanted to leave this spot EVER. “It was no problem really.” He mumbles more to himself while he stares at your pretty tits.

Fuck the friend code (if you can even call Jennie’s threat that), friend code didn’t have a pair of child-bearing hips and a ass shaped like a fucking peach like you did. Who was Jennie to keep all of you to herself so selfishly?

“Jungkook,” you softly say, “ ‘m gonna give you a thank you kiss.”

Jungkook laughs in amusement over how proud of yourself you look right now, he finds himself shaking his head and speaking in a lower pitched tone, “Yeah, where? Right here?” He turns his face to stick his cheek out.

A tiny little giggle escapes your lips as you nod at him, “Mm-hmm, right there.” You lean upwards to kiss his cheek gently, emitting a soft smacking noise as you happily smooch him. “There.” You say more to yourself.

Jungkook’s eyes drop down to your jiggly boobs which are pretty much in his face at this point. Your camisole somehow dips lower as your tits sit perfectly pushed together to accentuate their size. He tells himself not to but his dick seems to say otherwise as it stirs up in the confinements of his boxers. He already knows he’s about to be sporting a hard-on by the end of this interaction so he gives in.

“Want another kiss..” He mumbles while licking his lips, “But not on my cheek..got somethin’ else you can kiss.”

Your eyes follow his line of sight and you come across the very prominent bulge sitting behind his sweats. Your cheeks feel hot from embarrassment as the familiar throbbing sensation forms between your legs. Jungkook sees this when you suddenly begin rubbing your soft thighs together while staring back at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Whaddya say baby,” he lazily grins, “can I get that kiss?”

You stare back at him with those sweet puppy eyes of yours and nod eagerly.

Lips smacking against lips and quiet little moans/noises fill the otherwise dimly lit car (God bless his Mercedes for the interior lighting). You were tucked away on his lap in the backseat of the car, windows foggy and all as your hand slipped from the glass. Jungkook could die a happy man right now with the way he had a handful of ass sitting in the palms of his hands. He gave your soft cheeks appreciative squeezes as he kneaded the flesh roughly—greedily.

His own lips were a bit swollen from the hot make-out session but he didn’t mind, you were one hell of a kisser. One thing he didn’t see coming was how much of a little sex fiend you were, he swears he can’t keep up with how needy and slutty you are. He almost finds it cute how you pout and beg for him to let you have it while simultaneously humping him and refusing to let him part from the kiss.

Jungkook raised his hand and brought it down hard on your ass cheek, relishing in the resounding slap noise and how it recoiled/bounced in place. A slutty little moan escapes your lips as you pull back and pant softly against his lips, “Take ‘em off,” you slur softly, “hate these stupid shorts, gettin’ in my way.” You mumble with a tiny pout.

“Gonna let me see what’s underneath baby?” He looks up through his hooded eyes, grinning when he sees you eagerly nodding back at him, “Yeah? Go on then, slide ‘em off baby, show me what you got on.” He smacks your ass and gropes it harshly, only letting go when you whine at him while unbuttoning your shorts.

He swears under his breath as soon as the button pops open and you slip the zipper down. The hem of your undies comes into view, he sees a tiny bow sitting at the top so innocently and he can’t help but wonder what the rest of your panties are like.. Jungkook reclines back on the seat and parts his legs to make room for you.

You manage to slip your shorts down your thighs slowly with your hips swaying from side to side. Jungkook lets out an audible groan when he sees the cheeky undergarment that was hiding underneath. “Well don’t you look pretty,” he comments while running his hand over your ass, “bet you look prettier under.” He mumbles while licking his lips.

“But what about your kiss?” You pout.

Jungkook smacks your ass wickedly, “Don’t give me that fuckin’ pout. Didn’t know you were that eager to suck my cock, ‘s all you’re good for isn’t it baby? Just a dumb little thing who needs her mouth filled huh?” He grins when he hears you moan, “You gonna be a good little cock sleeve for me?”

“The best,” you happily slur, “ ‘m gonna swallow every last drop, promise.”

He finds it endearing when you hold your pinky out to him, and not wanting to be mean he hooks his pinky with yours, “Good girl.” He brings you in for a gentle little smooch, “Gonna ruin that pretty face of yours baby,” he whispers in-between kisses, “get on your knees for me.”

Jungkook finds that he likes how submissive and responsive you are to him, makes it a hundred times sexier in his opinion. You sink to your knees in front of him without missing a beat, you have your hands set over his knees as you sit there waiting with puppy eyes. “Go ahead baby, ‘s all yours.” He chuckles.

You eagerly paw at his sweats and with his help pull them down alongside his boxers until his fat cock is springing out and slapping against his lower abdomen. Your mouth waters when your eyes land on his perfectly sculpted cock, now you wanna feel it inside of you more than ever. His cock lays against his stomach, flush at the tip with prominent veins on the underside of his shaft.

“ ‘s mine…?” You whisper breathily while pursing yours lips, “ ‘s so pretty..” You’re talking more to yourself as you grab ahold of his throbbing cock and bring the mushroomy tip to your lips. Your tongue pokes out as you swirl it over the head, moaning softly at the tangy taste.

Jungkook bites down on his lip as he watches with hooded eyes, he can’t believe his wet dreams are coming true. Did he save an entire country in his past life? Made sense with how lucky he was right now. He brings his tattooed hand over the back of your head as he simply rests it there, letting you explore his dick like if it was a lollipop or some shit.

Your lips wrap around the head as you make these sloppy little sucking noises. Trickles of saliva begin to trickle down his cock, you use it as lube to stroke his girthy shaft—twisting and turning your hand around it while you noisily swallow around the tip. Jungkook’s lips part with breathy sighs escaping him, he relaxes into the seat and leans his head back with his eyes slipped shut.

You’re working wonders on his cock right now with the way you’re slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth. “Like that,” he whispers more to himself as he moans out again when you dip your tongue into the sensitive slit of his tip. Your strokes become slower but much more intense with the pressure you start applying. It’s getting a lot harder now to control himself from bucking his hips or something.

“Shit, don’t tease me baby,” he groans, “been thinking about your pretty little lips wrapped around my cock for weeks now. Knew you’d look pretty with a mouth full of cock.” Jungkook opens his eyes again to admire the view. “Open up for me baby,” he reaches down to thumb at your lower lip, “there you go—like that.” He grins.

He feeds you more of his cock watching as you eagerly take more and more until the tip hits the back of your throat. It sends you into a small gagging fit but the vibrations and pressure of your throat closing around him definitely sends zaps of hot pleasure down in his groin and lower belly. “Shit.” He groans loudly.

You whine around his cock and pull away to catch your breath, his cock slips from your mouth with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. Jungkook hisses quietly under his breath and reaches down to stroke his slicked up cock, “Messy little thing you are.”

“Off, off, ‘s my turn.” You huff cutely before swallowing his cock in one go now that you’re a bit more prepared.

It takes Jungkook by surprise as he groans loudly and throws his head back. You begin working wonders with that sinful tongue of yours, pairing it with some mean ass sucks. He lets his hand slip from the back of your head to the nape of your neck, just holding you there as he lets you do your thing. You begin bobbing your head slowly while noisily swallowing around his cock.

“Fucking hell y/n,” he whispers slack-jawed, you’re a damn menace. How the hell is he supposed to last? “You just needed something to fill that needy hole of yours didn’t you?” He pants softly, “Knew the moment I saw you that you were made for my cock baby. If only you could see yourself now.” He licks his lips and gives your neck a small gentle squeeze between his fingers.

You slurp up all the slick you leave behind on his cock, your hand sits at the base just idly gripping him while your mouth does all the work. You pull all the way up until the tip sits in your mouth before you swoop back down to take all of him in. He repeatedly hits the back of your throat but you do a much better job at controlling your gag reflex this time around. Your sloppy pace definitely has Jungkook moaning and grunting under his breath.

“Gonna cum,” he sighs, “keep going—like that.” He whispers as a full body shudder falls over him.

You eagerly pull off his cock and begin stroking him at a frantic pace. You watch with glee as his cock begins to throb in your hold, but you don’t let it deter you one bit. You’re eager to see him cum, you want it all in your mouth. “Like this?” You say this while squeezing around the tip and flicking your thumb over it.

Jungkook gasps softly, “Fuck..!” He hisses.

You smile deviously and bring the tip over your lips, “Or like this?” You whisper, blowing softly over his sensitive head before you take him back into your mouth.

Jungkook lets out a mantra of “fucks” and “yes’s” as he reaches down to grip his cock, his hand covers your own as he begins moving your hand up and down on his cock. You suckle at the head and watch as he comes undone. “Oh fuckkk..” He whispers as his cock throbs, cum shooting down your throat as you swallow around him greedily.

He slumps in the seat and pants quietly while watching you clean his dick with your sinful little tongue. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum that hard in his entire life before. He saw the pearly white gates of heaven just now.. “A-Ah shit, no more baby, ‘s sensitive.” He chuckles breathily when you try to suck on his (slowly softening) cock.

You pull back with a cheerful smile on your face, the corner of your mouth has drool and a bit of cum but you don’t seem to mind, “ ‘s so pretty.” You coo like his dick is the most amazing thing ever, he watches you lean over to press a tiny little kiss to the sensitive head.

Are you even real??

“C’mere,” he pats his lap, “I saw the way you were humping your own hand like a bitch in heat the entire time you had my cock in your mouth.” He says as he hauls you up, “You also deserve a nice little thank you, don’t you baby?” He grins while stroking his hands over your soft cheeks.

You nod eagerly, “Mm-hm,” you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, “do you wanna come upstairs after this? I wanna introduce you to my bunny Luna! Oh, and we can watch some anime together because I think it’s lame you haven’t seen Sailor Moon OR Death Note.” You huff in disbelief.

Little did Jungkook know that by saying yes to all that he’d end up staying for wayyyyy longer than he initially planned. You becoming (a important) part of his life was a bonus. <3

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#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

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blooberrries · 3 months

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『consequential』 — satoru

— pairing: satoru x afab!reader — wc: 5k — content: mdni, nsfw; vampire au, college/university au, jealous/possessive satoru, blood drinking, vampire bites (chest, neck and arm), alcohol, mutual pining (a distant relative of idiots to lovers), piv sex, love bites (heh literally), standing/sex against the wall (he holds you up the entire time because he's actually insane), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming,he's a bit of a simp really idk if that was planned — notes: got possessed by the Horny Spirit, also not proofread. enjoy? also be gentle with me I haven't written smut in over a year

prompt: ["Oh, don't be cute."] + [“you’re all mine” - “hm…” - “say it” - “i’m all yours”]

While slightly spiteful, your plan had been simple and had about a 50/50 chance of succeeding, with minimal loss to you if it didn’t.

Two weeks ago Gojo Satoru had— after months of asking for it and being denied by you— finally gotten your permission to drink your blood. So he’d gone ahead and bitten you, you’d loved it and probably fell even more annoyingly head over heels for him as a result of the oddly erotic experience, and the way he had acted during the whole ordeal gave you a decent indication that he most definitely felt the same way you did.

You’d expected things to finally change between you after that, hell you’d actually been excited for it.

But instead of leaning into the shift in the dynamic between you, Satoru had instead decided to pretend you didn’t exist and proceeded to completely avoid you for the last two weeks.

(Which is actually quite the feat considering how much overlap there is between your friend groups. But you’re not impressed. You’re mad.)

To say you were upset would be an understatement. Your pride was wounded along with your ego, and you felt foolish and embarrassed and stupidly angsty. The unfortunate reality is that you’re not very good at processing those feelings, so in your time of need you turned to your most faithful, long-time friend: spite.

You know for a fact that Satoru likes the way you smell and taste– it’s one of the many things he’d let slip when sucking the blood ever so gently from the puncture he’d made in the soft flesh of your inner forearm. So you decided to wait until the prime part of your cycle, where the supernatural consensus said humans smelt their best, and you’d procured a tincture from your witch-in-training friend that would accentuate the natural appeal of your blood for certain creatures of the night (she’d assured you it was safe, but you have your own means of defending yourself anyway so you aren’t too worried.)

Then, you’d waltzed your way into a party that was being held at his shared accommodation and made it a point to have fun. The real goal of your plan, besides sticking it to him in the most subtle-not-subtle way ever, was also just to feel better about yourself. Your expectations being upended regarding how you’d hoped things would develop with Satoru had been a big blow and would take some TLC from yours truly to recover from.

You’ve had fun so far, you’re only a drink or so in and pleasantly buzzed, and you’re getting a lot of compliments on your perfume. You can’t exactly tell them you’re not wearing anything but eau de spite, but it does feel nice nonetheless. Each comment is like a balm to your poor, chafed ego. The only wrench in the works is that as expected, not long after you arrived, Satoru noticed you.

And then proceeded to continue in his efforts to avoid and ignore you. He’d disappeared into the throng of people on the other side of the house before you could even blink.

It takes a strongly mixed cocktail, courtesy of Shoko who you’re not sure isn’t trying to kill you with the alcohol content of these drinks, for you to settle your fuming. This is stupid— no, he’s stupid. Stupid sexy vampire with his stupid pretty eyes and stupid pretty face. How dare he let you make a fool of yourself by thinking there could be anything more between you! You never should have let him bite you. At least then things would still be the same and you wouldn’t be so torn between throttling him and kissing him.

Angrily, you take a hearty gulp of your drink. Despite the superficial fruity flavour it burns on the way down, unsurprisingly, and you have to breathe slowly through your nose so it doesn’t come back up. You’re no longer uncertain; you’re confident this cocktail is an attempt on your life.

It’s as you’re nursing that drink and leaning angstily against a wall in the corner of the room, that you sense someone approach you. Your eyes take a moment to adjust as you look up, surprise filtering through you once you register the figure by your side.

“Hey.”

Your brows shoot up, a small grin tugging your lips. “Oh? Long time no see, Mei Mei. What cave have you crawled out of to be here tonight?”

The snow-haired woman rolls her eyes, lips twitching. Her tongue darts to swipe over the tip of a pointed canine.

“Oh, you know, every homebody has to come out to play every once in a while.” Her nose twitches, and she leans forward slightly to inhale. Her eyes flutter wide in pleasant surprise. “Well, don’t you smell absolutely divine tonight. Special occasion?”

Kind of, but you’re not about to tell her that. Mei Mei can be a decent enough acquaintance so long as you keep her at arm’s length.

“I’m trying something new,” you answer simply. She hums, and when her body angles towards you again ever so slightly you become aware of the most odd, prickly sensation. It tickles the hairs at the back of your neck, and you fight the peculiar urge to turn and look around. All you’d see is dancing bodies and stumbling drunks, anyway.

“It suits,” Mei Mei purrs with a smile that makes you a little nervous. Music throbs against your body so strongly that for a moment you’re not sure whether the beat you’re feeling in your chest belongs to your heart or the song. “Though you ought to be careful going on campus smelling like that. You’ll lure in every bloodsucker in a five-mile radius.”

You suppose that means the tincture is doing its job. The way her eyes are appraising your pulse points keeps you feeling nervous, though. Perhaps… it wasn’t the best idea to make yourself smell so scrumptious after all. There are more than a few loose canons in the area.

It’s a little too late for regrets now, though. At this point you just gotta double down and own the decision.

“Noted,” you say, taking a hearty sip of your death-in-a-cup. The burn is now a pleasant distraction. You smile at Mei Mei and feel that prickly, hot feeling increase tenfold. What is that?!

The sensation has your heart rate elevating slightly, and it must make the aroma of your blood a little stronger because the vampire before you lets out a soft groan, her eyes fluttering shut. Almost like it’s instinct, she takes a step closer and leans her head towards the crook of your neck. Your startle is almost imperceptible, and you’re thankful that the top you opted for is one that saved the neck exposure for a well-placed boob window instead. The fabric covering half the expanse of your throat is probably the only reason you don’t freak out at her actions.

Her nose brushes your skin, dragging up the column of your throat until it flirts with the bottom of your earlobe. Your heart skips a beat before tumbling into a full gallop. It’s different to how it felt with Satoru— you don’t like this nearly as much. Your legs tense with the urge to leave.

“Really,” she says, purring your name. “You’ve got me feeling quite peckish. Won’t you let me have a little sn–“

A grip winds around your wrist like a vice, not painful but certainly unforgiving. Startled, you look up and see the person of the hour, the vampire you went to all this effort to torment in the hopes he would want you again. Wow, it doesn’t sound great when you think of it like that. The alcohol is certainly not helping your self-esteem right now.

Satoru’s pretty baby-blues are dark, pupils blown wider than you’ve ever seen before, and his entire body is riddled with tension. He almost looks like the slightest pressure would have him snapping in half. His jaw is locked tightly, and he hisses through clenched teeth and descended fangs.

“Come with me. Now.”

You don’t get the chance to bid Mei Mei farewell, not that you really want to, and the last thing you see as you’re dragged out of the room is her waving a manicured hand your way, mouthing a playful ‘goodbye’. She looks far too amused for your comfort.

Right now, Satoru is nothing like the cheeky, carefree, shit-stirring bastard you’ve come to know and love. That isn’t to say you’re completely opposed to it, because the way he looks like know is a pretty big turn-on. But still – the difference is startling. You’re not sure how to navigate the situation.

Before you know it you’ve been unceremoniously relocated to his bedroom, and he is pressing you against the door the second it closes behind you with a heavy, loud THUD.

For a moment, the only sound that fills the space is that of the music beyond the wooden barrier. The bass is no longer indistinguishable with your heart beat – the stuttering rhythm that echoes against your rib cage is all you.

Satoru inhales deeply as though to calm himself down, only to let out a long, low groan immediately after. The sound affects you more than it probably should, heat winding pleasantly up your spine.

“What was that?” He demands, brows snapping together. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s most likely referring to Mei Mei being horny on main just before. His massive frame boxes you in against the door in such a way that you’re almost embarrassed by how much it makes your tummy flutter.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you breathe, chin tilted up as you hold his gaze. Something feral flickers through his expression.

“Oh, don’t be cute.” The words snap into the air, causing your breath to hitch. Satoru’s eyes flick to your forearm, where the slightest bruise still remains from the last time you were in close quarters like this. He swallows, piercing gaze returning to your own.

“I told you.” Satoru’s words leave in a snarl, his fingers firm against the flesh of your hips. His own body is so close to yours that you can feel the heat of it, the tingle of electricity that arcs between you. “That I would be able to smell it if another vampire so much as breathed near you. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you getting chummy with one in my own home?”

You can easily recall him saying that to you almost a fortnight ago, when he had been commenting that he could tell you hadn’t been bitten before thanks to his sharp senses and all that. You didn’t think he was lying. You are surprised that he cares, though. Something like indignation bubbles beneath your lungs, because how dare the bastard spout that shit when he just spent the last two weeks since your ‘encounter’ pretending you didn’t exist.

“Not sure why you give a shit,” you retort, squashing down a whine that begins to rise in your throat when his hips begin to press into yours. “Seemed like you were done with me after you finally got that taste you wanted so bad.”

His brows scrunch together, appearing confused for a second amongst the agitation on his features. You decide to fill the gap in the conversation on his behalf.

“I really was just a Sip ‘n’ Dip to you, huh,” you scoff, letting your head fall back against the door. His eyes snap to the column of your throat, more of which is now exposed. “At least now I know the only thing you want from me is my blood. Really saved me some grief there, Satoru.”

“Excuse me?”

When your eyes slide back to his face, he looks like you’ve physically struck him. His fingers dig into your hips almost out of habit, just shy of being painful. Anger still bubbles beneath your sternum, and you glare at him.

“By the way, as far as I’m aware, biting me once doesn’t give you any exclusive rights to my blood, so where the hell do you get off getting so shitty because someone else took a whiff–“

Satoru snaps.

“I don’t just want your blood,” he snarls, lips curling away from pin-prick sharp fangs. He has the nerve to look insulted. “I want you, you stupidly oblivious pain in my ass. All of you.”

He then leans in, erasing any foreign scents lingering on you and replacing it with something of his own, whatever pheromone bullshit vampires do. You’re too busy trying to stop your heart from having palpitations to focus on it too much because what the fuck did he just say—

“Do you have any idea how close I am to losing myself to a frenzy, like a fucking fledgling?!” His lips brush over the pulse point at your neck, and then teeth, razor-sharp and full of promise, drag over the skin of your clavicle, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You shiver, flushing with heat and desire. The threat of another bite is already enough to have your body reacting in memory of how the last one felt. You want him, god you want him so, so badly.

“I haven’t fed since then because I can’t get the taste of you out of my head, and I can’t stomach anything else. I can’t stop thinking about the noises you made when I sank my teeth into you, and the scent of absolute desire that filled the entire fucking room the second the venom kicked in for you.” Satoru’s words are punctuated by a prick just below your collarbone, the brief sting eliciting a gasp. Warmth begins to trickle thinly from the site and is quickly staunched by a press of his tongue, and he moans. You’re so painfully aroused that it nearly makes you dizzy. He groans, long and suffering. “Just like now.”

He moves lower and lower, hauling you off the floor and completely into his hold so his mouth can reach your chest without stooping. Suddenly in the air, you can’t help the way you yelp and wrap your legs tightly around his hips – which, in turn, presses the heat of your core against the very prominent bulge there. You both echo a groan.

“Coward,” you manage to pant, out of sheer spite if nothing else. “Stupid idiot. I clearly want you. I literally could not have been any more obvious, you’re so –“

His teeth sink into the exposed top of your breast, retracting once they puncture deep enough to get a good flow. Then, he latches firmly onto the flesh, sucking it into his mouth. The act startles a moan out of you, the venom from the initial bite already transmuting the pain into heady pleasure and sending heat through your veins, all while kicking your heart into an even faster beat. Perhaps one of the best perks of the venom is that after that first dose settles in, the only part of the process left for you to feel is pleasure.

Even while you’re unable to help the way your hips roll into his own, and unable to ignore the feral, sinful moans vibrating against your chest as he suckles the wound he made and drinks from you, you manage to continue insulting him.

“You’re so stupid, why the hell did you avoid me for two weeks huh?” A moan breaks up your complaint as he swipes his tongue in broad movements over the bite, his hips snapping into yours and pressing you further into the door. The wood creaks, but neither of you pay it any mind. You can barely function around the incredible sensation of his cock grinding against you through layers of clothing. “All you did was send mixed messages and piss me off and, ngh fuck–“

He pulls back enough that you can see the flush in his face, the feral gleam in his eyes and the smear of blood over swollen lips. His brows are furrowed, but he’s too besotted by the taste of you to have as much heat behind his glare as he did previously.

“There are some things you can’t take back,” he grits out, tongue coming to clean the red from his lips. Your heart stutters, pulse thudding in your ears. “Especially for my kind. If I didn’t stay away, I probably would have ended up doing one of those things.”

Your core positively throbs with need, clenching around nothing. The extent to which you want him right now has you more irritable than usual. “Satoru, I wouldn’t have let you drink from me if I wasn’t interested in everything else it would entail—“

“You don’t understand,” Satoru groans, freeing a hand to rip at the material of your shirt. Clawed fingertips slice through with ease, taking out the bra straps underneath as well. He makes quick work of the band beneath your chest and the underwear is then torn from your form and thrown somewhere in the background. The material of your top remains, and he yanks it down below your aching breasts, watching with rapt attention as they bounce free heavily. Barely allowing you time to moan, he lifts you higher in his arms and dives down to drag his teeth over the swollen globes. He nips and nibbles across the sensitive skin, eliciting all sorts of sounds from you and an unbearable amount of desire that shoots straight between your legs. You can feel slick arousal trickling from your aching cunt with each new miniscule bite Satoru delivers, but honestly at this point you’re too horny to be embarrassed.

“I already want everything you can give me, and more.” He bites the inside of your breast and the flesh gives easily beneath the razor-sharp point of his fangs. One of his hands comes to grip the other side of your chest while he laps and sucks at the blood welling in the wound. Your nipples are painfully hard and you feel like you could cry in relief when his long, nimble fingers begin to deliver them some much-needed attention. “I want every single part of you and I don’t want to share. This is the way I am built. I can’t do this with you again and let you go afterwards. I want you to be mine.”

You probably shouldn’t find that as romantic as you do, but aren’t really in a position to psycho-analyse your response right now. It’s not all that surprising, either, since you recall someone mentioning to you before how strongly vampires bond with their partner when they finally make their choice. As it happens, his confession serves to not only make your heart soar but your pussy throb. You’ve been pining for this man for years, so even amongst the haze of lust clouding your mind you don’t have to think about how to respond to it.

This is, after all, the solution you were hoping for two weeks ago.

“I don’t want you to let me go, or take anything back. Please bite me again, mark me up–” You pause to gasp, Satoru having shoved your skirt up to bunch around your hips. Your panties are gone a split-second later, likely discarded in the same manner as your bra, and the hand that was at your breast is now trailing your slit and gathering all the slick that has pooled there. His middle finger dips in, causing a stutter in your breath. You lean forward to whisper in his ear, snowy strands of hair tickling your cheeks as you do so. “And please, please fuck me, Satoru.”

Something snaps in him, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

A feral snarl escapes him, a gravelly “fuck” the only warning you get before his teeth sink down just above your nipple, fangs retracting once blood wells to the surface, and he pulls both the wound and your stiffened peak into his mouth, sucking hard. There isn’t a single ounce of pain, only the white-hot pleasure that shoots to your clit and has you keening as a result, hands scrabbling for purchase along his broad shoulders. That free hand that was at your slit has made quick work of his pants and is now guiding his scalding member to slap against your clit, and then press against your entrance while you recover from the shock of pleasure.

You expected him to be well-endowed, and you’re not at all disappointed. Satoru’s cock is fat and long, and with one roll of his hips it spears right into you. There is no resistance, you’re far too aroused and wet for there to be any, but the feeling of being split open by such a monster quite literally knocks the breath out of you. You hardly recognise the noise that escapes you as one of your own, hands gripping the vampire’s hair and shoulder so tightly you’d be worried about hurting him if he was human. He isn’t, though, and without even noticing your grip continues drinking from you while latched to your breast, tongue pressing and rolling your aching nipple all the while.

A second is all you get to adjust to the foreign length inside you before Satoru rolls his hips back with a moan, the fat head of his cock dragging against your walls as he does so, and then slams it back in. He builds a rhythm immediately that is almost animalistic in its desperation and fervour, each thrust firm and hitting so deep inside that you honest to god think it has you seeing stars. Whines and moans tumble from your mouth, no longer able to be held back when the only thing your brain can comprehend is the sheer pleasure and ecstasy that burns and sparks along your limbs. He begins to hit a certain spot when he fucks up into your heat that has you clenching around him, slick gushing forth.

“FUCK.” He rips away from your chest to tilt his head back in a rough, stilted moan, his hands gripping and digging into the meat of your thighs where they melt into your ass. In the absence of his mouth, blood begins to dribble down the swell of your breast. His crystalline eyes are hazy and blown out in lust, brows drawn together and expression twisted in pleasure, his breath coming in pants. He is visibly barely holding it together, completely drunk on the taste and feel of you– and it simultaneously is the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “Yes, fuck, squeeze me just like that.”

You oblige, relishing in the full-body shiver that tears through him in response. He bites your name out amidst a tortured groan, hands shifting to your hips. His mouth returns to clean up the mess he left on your breast, lips latching around your nipple to suck and pull once more, and it’s almost enough to distract you from the way he suddenly begins to lift you by the hips and drop you back down on his cock in time with his thrusts. Almost. You have to bite back a scream at how fucking good it feels, the pressure and pace and just how full you feel. You can feel yourself rapidly beginning to come undone.

With the combination of his venom’s aphrodisiac effects and the sheer amount of time you’ve spent longing for this, you don’t imagine you’re going to last much longer. If the unforgiving pace of Satoru’s hips is anything to go by, you estimate the same to be the case for him.

He groans into your chest, releasing your breast to bounce in time with his thrusts, the action accompanied by an almost audible pop, and shifts his hold to free a hand. The pressure of two fingers against your clit has you crying out, body jerking at the sudden rush of pleasure – your head whips down to find him already looking at you, gaze swinging from the juncture of your thighs to your eyes. Evidently pleased by the expression he finds on your face, he continues his circling of your clit and leans his head down to trail kisses from your already-healing chest, up the column of your throat, across the line of your jaw, until he finally arrives at your lips.

“Mine,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours in a feather-light caress. His baby-blue eyes are lidded heavily and almost dazed, coherent thought lost to the throes of pleasure and his most simple instincts. He nicks your lip at the same time as he angles a particularly wonderful thrust, the head of his cock hitting against that spot that makes you see stars and release a loud, wanton cry. “You’re all mine.”

You pull back to nod rapidly, unable to form words when all you can think – all you can feel – is the throbbing pleasure of his cock splitting you open with each heavy thrust. His head follows, lips seeking your own once more. The kiss is hot, and needy, and his oversized canines scrape your bottom lip more than once, and yet all you can do is return the fervour in between moans and whines. His hand is still at work between your legs, and you feel in your bones that you’re really not going to last much longer at this rate.

Satoru releases your mouth with a final nip, and moves his head to nestle it in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He groans, low and long, and the vibration turns to a shiver as it travels over your skin. His lips begin to move.

“Say it.”

You struggle to think let alone figure out what he wants, lost in the current of your rapidly approaching orgasm. His fingers pick up speed, aided by the generous amount of arousal still gushing from your pussy in between thrusts. It takes everything you have not to scream, your hips bucking.

“Say it,” he says again, an oddly uncertain note infiltrating his rumbling gasp. He utters your name while nosing at your throat and you feel yourself melt. “Please, say it.”

Realisation as to what he is looking for hits you at the same time as your orgasm. “Fuck! I’m– I’m yours, all yours! God, fuck—“

Satoru’s pace stutters, undone by your pussy clenching and throbbing around him in a fight to keep him inside, and it takes him a moment to recover before he begins to fuck into you again in earnest, movements growing sloppy and frantic but no less punishing. It all serves to prolong the wave of absolute bliss you’re riding in the wake of what has to be the strongest orgasm of your life. Those vampiric toxins are no joke.

You wind your arms around his neck, clutching him close and trying not to lose your mind as he fucks up into you, the drag of his cock against your walls somehow even more delicious than before. He mouths at your neck, hips beginning to stutter once more. You clench around him, and he breaks. There is barely enough time for a curse to escape his mouth before its clamping on your neck, teeth digging in deep— deeper than he’s ever bitten you before— and tingling heat spreading out from the puncture sites. He gives one, two, three final, dragging thrusts, body trembling and muscles taut, before his cock throbs and he buries it inside you, spilling into you with a deep, rumbling groan against your throat.

Soft, panting moans escape you as his hips continue to roll into you softly, riding out his orgasm, and you bite back a wanton groan as you feel his cum beginning to trickle out around his softening member. As soon as he comes back to his senses to a degree, he has the presence of mind to navigate the two of you to the bed before he loses strength in his legs, his mouth slipping from your neck after he laves his tongue over the wound to seal it. Unceremoniously, he drops the two of you against the mattress, but surprisingly keeps you snugly in his hold and his length still buried inside you. Ignoring how hot that is, you decide to view the action from a purely romantic light and nearly melt into the mattress.

Vaguely, you register the thumping club beats still booming beyond the confines of the room. Evidently the party was still ongoing.

“This wasn’t how I planned for today to go,” he admits, after a few beats of contented silence. He nuzzles his face to your chest, dragging his nose across your collarbone. “I was going to talk to you tomorrow morning.”

You snort; that’s likely.

“… This is how I planned for today to go, though.”

He huffs a laugh before pressing his lips together, clearly trying not to enable you further. He allows for another few moments to pass, and in that time you let your own eyes flutter closed.

“You can’t change your mind, by the way,” he says suddenly, tone odd. You open your eyes and turn to see his crystalline gaze directed to your neck, where the latest of his bite marks sits proudly. “I may have done one of those things I can’t take back.”

You’re not sure how to tell him it’s not as bad of a thing as he thinks it to be.

likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 lmk what you think!

#gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #satoru smut #vampire au #vampire gojo satoru #smut #my work #jjk writings #jjk #jealous gojo satoru #posessive gojo satoru #i'll probs proofread later #probably #oneshot #he's a bit feral in this one but we love that for him #satoru x reader #satoru x reader smut

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beenbaanbuun · 3 months

Text

misunderstandings w/ san

words - some

genre - fluff/angst with a dash of nsfw but not smut

warnings - horny!san, soft!san, sad!reader, misunderstandings, san in grey sweatpants, mentions of sex, no actual sex/sexual acts, reader speaks in riddles and expects san to understand

it’s no surprise to anyone that san likes to be cosy and comfy

we’ve all seen that fuzzy great sweater that he always wears

that thing looks like it would send me to sleep within seconds of putting it on, but i digress…

another item of clothing he keeps close to his heart is sweat pants, more specifically grey ones

he says they’re just comfy, but you know exactly why he wears them

they cling to his thighs so nicely and leave very little to the imagination

sometimes just seeing him in them is enough to drive you insane

it’s even worse if he takes a shower before putting them on, because 9 times out of 10, that man is not putting underwear on with them

a shirt is also optional… apparently san just doesn’t like the way they feel when his skin is damp

personally, you think san just does it because he knows it drives you crazy

in fact, there’s been more than a few times when you’ve texted san throughout your day at work about how much you miss him

and shown up at the end of the day with him on your couch, just like that; half naked with sopping wet hair

and whilst ‘i miss you’ usually is just code for ‘i’m horny’, sometimes it just means you’re having a bad day and want to hold him close for the rest of the day

either way, you don’t mind showing up to your house with a half naked san on your couch

you’re about to get the best dick of your life, or incredibly soft cuddles

it all depends on your response to his obvious advances, although sometimes he isn’t the best at taking hints

“you’re home,” he opens his arms the moment you walk through the door, as if asking for a hug

you’re more than happy to oblige, dumping your bag on the floor and letting your tired body collapse onto his

it had been a frustrating day to say the least

your coworker had been off so her work had been passed to you, despite the fact that no one person would be able to do all of that by themselves

still, the boss expected it whether you complained or not

saying you were drained was an understatement

as your body connects with san’s, he grunts, but catches you effortlessly

“fucking hell, babe,” he squeezes you gently as he holds you to his chest, “careful, yeah?”

you nod half heartedly into the damp skin of his neck

“you’re naked,” you deadpan, snuggling into his warmth a little

you know what it means, but you haven’t quite decided whether that’s what you want or not

maybe sex would take your mind off the day behind you

or maybe it would overstimulate you and send you spiralling… who’s to know!

“hardly,” he replies, “i have my sweatpants on…”

“and what are the chances of there being something underneath,” you wait for his response, but he stays silent which tells you everything you need to know

not that you need any confirmation; you can feel his hardening dick pressing against your thigh

you decide then and there that no, sex definitely would not be the best option

the thought alone of the ache that would follow is enough to make you decide that you certainly could not handle it right now

“it’s covered, is it not?” he finally says through pouted lips

you sit up fully and look at him with a fed-up expression, hoping he gets the message

you’d never been too good at saying no to people

something along the lines of not wanting to disappoint people

usually you just dropped hints and hoped for the best; san usually understood sooner or later

“it’s rock hard against my leg, san,” you scoff, “i don’t think your sweatpants are going to stop me from feeling that…”

he shrugs with a smirk

“that sounds like a you problem,” he says, which is actually factually incorrect, “maybe you should do something to sort it out…”

you can’t help but sigh at his inability to take any sort of hint

“or maybe, you can take yourself up to the bathroom and get rid of the problem yourself!”

it’s more obvious that the glare you gave him previously

still, the smirk remains as though you’re just teasing him

he shakes his head with a grin

“but you’re literally right here,” he whines, “and the bathroom is all the way upstairs…”

“i’m not in the mood to ache right now, sannie,” you once again, drop a hint that he, once again, completely disregards

in fact your statement makes him smile, clearly happy with what your statement implies about how good he fucks you usually

“i’ll be gentle?”

“san!” you scold, frustrated that your rock-headed boyfriend can’t seem to understand that whether or not he was rough was not the issue here

“i’m just saying,” he puts his hands up defensively

you look down at him with tired eyes, frustrated tears forming in the corners as you grow tired of throwing hint after hint at him

as much as you hated saying ‘no’ so bluntly, you settle on the fact that you might have to

“san,” you start, taking a deep sigh to calm your nerves, “i’m trying to tell you that i don’t want to have sex right now.”

you have to force yourself to look at him

even though you know that he’ll be more than fine with that fact, you can’t help but feel a little guilty about it

and when you look up at him, you can’t help not notice that his face falls a little

not that he’s upset at you not wanting sex, he’s just upset that he clearly misread the situation

and maybe he feels a little (a lot) guilty for pushing so hard when, now that he thinks back on it, you actually weren’t that interested

“oh, baby,” he mumbles softly as he moves his hands to rest against your thighs that sit either side of hips, “bad kind of ‘i miss you’, huh?”

you nod

“the bad kind,” you respond with a shrug, as if you’re trying to pass it off as nothing

but of course, gentleman san would never let that happen

because your emotions are never nothing

“you should’ve told me straight away,” he scolds gently, “or maybe i should’ve asked…” he frowns, “either way, if i’d have known i’d never have pushed so hard… you know that, right?”

you nod ever so slightly

of course you should’ve told him straight away, but again, saying no is hard for you and the ever present fear of disappointment hangs over your head like a rain cloud

and while you were positive that nothing you did could ever disappoint san, there was still something in the back of your brain that told you otherwise

“of course i know that, sannie,” you pout, “but you know me…”

“hm, i do know you,” he mutters as he rubs gentle circles into your thighs, “and i know how scary saying no is, but it’s just me.”

just san… it’s just san

you nod, understanding exactly what he means

there’s no external judgement, or any judgement at all for that matter, because it’s just san

and san doesn’t care about these things

san just wants to make you happy and if sex wouldn’t make you happy, then san would happy live with blue balls for the night

you nod again, more enthusiastic this time

“it’s just you,” you give him a small smile, which he returns without even a second passing

“there’s that pretty smile,” he coos before shifting his hands to your waist and tugging you gently until you’re lay flat against his chest once more

and you’re happy to just lie there in silence as san trails his fingers up and down your spine to soothe you

he’s not asked about your day yet, and he probably won’t for a while, content to sit in silence and love you for now

and you’re content too

very content

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez fic #ateez headcanons #ateez smut #san fic #san oneshot #san fluff #san x reader #ateez angst #san smut #san angst

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paracosmic-murdock · 4 months

Text

these colors fade for you only ; benedict bridgerton x reader

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: one thing worse than seeing your enemy often was living under the same roof, certainly, and you and benedict suffered from that unfortunate condition. not even the eleven years you've slept separated by a thin wall only helped you overcome that hatred, you would always hate each other. or not really, because it's too definite to say something as such when a few hours could change the meaning of until the end of time.

warnings/tags: enemies to lovers, sexual tension, very inappropriate behavior for the 1810s, colin bridgerton being a little shit, two people who hate each other locked in a room, what could possibly go wrong?, nude paintings, implied smut, song: sunlight (hozier)

word count: 3.2K

❁ mila's paracosm (main masterlist)

One thing about Benedict Bridgerton is how you could ruin even the best of days for him.

One thing about you is how much you loved to make him mad and see the frustration on his face.

Another thing about Benedict Bridgerton is how pathetically obsessed he was with insulting you in any chance he gets.

Another thing about you is how you were willing to do absolutely anything to bother him or tease him.

You acted like children: always arguing, always making fun of each other, always making everyone at Bridgerton House completely insane with your bickering the entire day.

One thing was having to see your enemy often. One way worse was living under the same roof.

Eleven years ago, your parents had an accident, and you have lived with the Bridgertons ever since, as your mother was Violet Bridgerton's best friend since childhood.

Devastated for years, you accompanied the Bridgertons in their grief for Edmund, which was what ultimately gave you strength to go on with your life. All of you.

But that was the very same thing that ignited your rivalry with the second Bridgerton: your enthusiasm would collide with his mourning and harsh words coming out of his mouth you had no will to tolerate.

It began with his insults to you, though you knew he didn't mean to be rude, and it was all his grief doing the talk. When you couldn't tolerate it anymore, you started insulting him back.

Then, Benedict would play pranks that went too far, and you would burn his sketches in the chimney.

Benedict started sabotaging any chance you could get to find a suitor and you would spread silly rumors about his performance in the bedroom with his friends from the Academy.

Thanks to his efforts, not even being named Diamond of the Season was enough for you to find a husband, which was already making you feel like a failure, not to mention a burden to the Bridgertons. Benedict's fault also.

“Anthony, has he come back?”

He gave you a pitiful look. “I am sorry, Y/N, but I spoke to Lord Raeken to ask him his intentions, and he said he was not interested in marrying you.”

“What?” You gasped. “But everything was going so well! He- he invited us for dinner last week! His mother and Aunt Violet befriended each other even!”

“You will not like what I am going to say.” Anthony anticipated, and you already knew whose fault it was.

“It was Benedict?! Again?!”

Anthony nodded. “I talked to him… It was a threat. He said he would fix it, and I promise you that Lord Raeken will propose to you. If not, he is not worthy of you, and that is all.”

“Nobody is worthy of me, then? He… ruined it with the Duke of Sussex, with Lord Leclerc, with the Count-, I… Why does he keep doing this, Anthony?” You whimpered. You didn't even notice when you started crying, but before anything happened, he hugged you tightly. “Has he not tormented me enough already?”

The eldest Bridgerton knew all too well of your inner motives to hate each other, but decided not to meddle in your war anymore unless it was a case as delicate as this.

“Promise me you will not ruin his latest painting, Y/N,” he begged. “I am trying to work on a peace accord between the two of you, so as long as you stop doing things to him, he will stop messing with you.”

You sighed. “If I do not marry this season, I will have no other choice but to find a job as a governess.”

“Why do you even say that?” He frowned.

“Because it has been eleven years of you sponsoring me, and I believe that it is too much time.”

“You think you are a burden for us?” Anthony asked, and your silence answered. “The day you leave us will be one of the saddest for us Bridgertons, Y/N. You are like our sister, and we love you and care about you as such. Perhaps it has not worked before, but do you really believe that a man that loves you will let none other than Benedict intimidate him?”

“Gregory is more threatening than him,” you noted. “And those dimples could melt the coldest of hearts!”

Anthony smiled. “Do not think too much of it. We shall find you a husband before the season ends.”

“Alright.”

“Now go, I believe Colin is expecting you, and I have many things to do.”

“Sure thing.” you replied.

Once you were out of his office, you gathered the baby blue skirt and ran to Benedict's studio. There, you saw the painting Anthony begged you not to ruin.

It was a woman's naked figure, quite a graceful one. And it was beautifully portrayed.

It would be a shame for it to be ruined. Thank God you did not promise Anthony a thing.

It was still wet, so it was not difficult to use other colors and mix them with the paint so it would look different. You also spilled droplets of red and signed your name on the painting where he had his.

Then, you cleaned your hands and ran to the door.

“Colin!” you exclaimed, and he turned around. “We are going to find Benedict right now.”

He frowned, annoyed. “What happened now?”

“Lord Raeken won't marry me for something Benedict did. Now I must speak to him.”

“It is getting late. We will not get to the tailor in time if we go to Benedict first.”

“Please?” You begged Colin. “I can get on my knees if you wish, but please…”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Alright, let's- oh, there he is!”

You looked in the same direction as him and noticed Benedict getting home. He seemed mad, and your face lost all its life when you thought of what could happen when he saw his painting ruined by you.

“Let's get out of here, Colin…” you muttered once Benedict passed you without even saying hello.

“Why? Benedict is here if you wish to talk to him.”

“It might not be a great time right now…”

“Why?”

“Y/N, I swear to God!”

“Because…” You gave Colin a sheepish look at Benedict's scream.

“What did you do?”

“He started it!”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Did you-”

“Come inside right now!” Benedict yelled once he reached the door. “I am dead serious.”

You sighed, walking next to Colin. “He is going to kill me, Colin.”

“You do not know that.”

“I did something bad.”

“So did he.”

You pursed your lips. “Tell Daphne that only Francesca is a good fit to replace me as Auggie's godmother once I die.”

“Do not say that.”

“What on Earth were you thinking?!”

“What on Earth were you thinking?!” You mimicked him, anger coming to surface again as you reached his studio.

“This was an assignment for tomorrow morning!”

“Well, Lord Raeken was my whole future, Benedict!” you yelled back.

“Look at it! It is ruined!”

Colin was annoyed enough of your fights, and seeing the keys was enough for him to know there was only one solution.

So he did it and thought that you would either kill each other or make amends.

The third Bridgerton exited the room quietly and thanked your bickering for being distracting enough so you did not notice when he closed the door and locked it from outside.

“What are you doing?” Anthony asked when he saw Colin lock the door.

“Forcing those two to reconcile.”

The eldest brother chuckled. “Best of luck with that.”

“I know they will get over it,” he said, sitting on the floor next to the door. “I shall stay here even if it takes me the whole night.”

Anthony joined him. “This should be fun.”

“I do not care if it is ruined, Benedict… you can ruin my future but you draw a line at ruined paintings?!”

“Do you not know how important my career is for me?! You can find another suitor anytime!”

You groaned. “This is my third season, and I have not found a husband! I was the Diamond of my first Season, Benedict! And you have been ruining all of them for me!”

“I have not ruined anything. They simply are not a good fit for the family!”

“I am done listening to you.” You walked away from him and tried, in vain, to open the door.

After looking around, you noticed Colin was supposed to be in the room with you but he wasn't.

“Colin Bridgerton, open this door right now!” You banged the door, making him flinch. “Someone, open the door! We are locked in here!”

Benedict believed you simply weren't strong enough to open it, so he joined you trying to open it but couldn't while his brothers hid their laughter. He looked for the keys but couldn't find them either.

“Colin must have taken the keys,” he noted.

You sighed tiredly. “Somebody open the door! Please, we are trapped!”

“Open the door! Colin!”

“They will not let us out.” you told him.

“Perhaps we should just say we made amends and they will open the door.”

“Do you think he is an idiot? Only a fool would believe you and I could reach an agreement overnight, let alone the ten minutes we have been here.”

He groaned, giving up on escaping the room and returning to the conflict. “How are you so blind, Y/N? How can you fail to see that they are not right for the family?”

“I beg your pardon?! You do not even know them!”

“Is that so?” he questioned, getting closer to you. “Lord Leclerc, a widower who had lovers left and right while his late wife was terribly ill, the Duke of Sussex is a dull rat, and the Count had three illegitimate children by the time he set foot on Mayfair. They are not good people for us.”

“If that is what worries you so, I can leave forever after I marry!”

“Do you truly think this family will survive a week without seeing you? Mother is devastated at Daphne's absence… yours would kill her.”

You rolled your eyes. “We are not even a real family, are we? I am not related to you, I am a mere burden, so why do you not take any of them as your chance to get rid of me?”

“I did not mean that. Stop bringing it to the table each time it suits your purpose to manipulate me.”

“I could seriously kill you with my bare hands right now, Benedict…” you spoke, outraged. “What is it that I did for you to hate me so much?!”

“It is not worth talking about that now.”

“Why are you like this with me, Benedict? At this point, I would marry just about any man who could take me away from you.”

His heart skipped a beat. “We can't just let you marry anyone, alright?”

“Why do you even care?!”

“Because I cannot let you go with someone I do not trust…”

“What will it even take for you to trust any of them?”

“I could never trust them, Y/N, because I can't trust in someone who does not love you devotedly and absolutely.”

Your lips formed a line of disdain at his words. “How would you even know they don't if you do not give them the chance to truly get to me?”

“Because no one does.”

“Wow,” you laughed bitterly. “Thanks for reminding me how unlovable I am.”

“You do not understand, Y/N.”

“Explain it to me, then!” You asked, you begged him.

“No one does it like I do, my goodness!” he screamed, and you were sure it echoed through the whole floor.

You choked on your own spit at his confession, and at the other side of the door, Colin and Anthony looked at each other completely flabbergasted.

“We should leave.” Anthony whispered. “Unlock the door.”

Colin nodded. “I agree, we should let them out.”

Anthony nodded and left, but Colin was determined.

He certainly did not unlock the door.

“What?” you asked in almost a whisper.

Benedict seemed surprised at his own words, as if he had spoken from ignorance because… it couldn't be real, could it? He couldn't be in love with you.

“I…”

“Benedict…”

“You are my family,” he ‘corrected’ himself. “Conflict in families is not uncommon. It is fine. I care about you, and I… we do not want you to be the wife of a man that does not deserve you, Y/N. You are sunlight, and they are nothing but a gray sky.”

You breathed out shakily, looking at his blue eyes deeply, feeling like you had never seen such blue in your entire life. “I am sorry about your painting.”

“It is alright, I will try to fix it; maybe if Colin lets us out, I can go back to the Academy before it is too late. Find a model-”

“Is that what you need? A model?”

Benedict cleared his throat, guessing where it was going, though scared of it. “Yes, but it should not be difficult to find one at the Academy.”

“We will not be let out,” you reminded him and gave it all a careful thought.

You were aware it wasn't right. He was a man, and you were a woman who was not married to him. He must not see you naked under any circumstances, but again… he saved you from those men who weren't worth it, and you paid him by ruining his artwork. It was not fair, so you owed him.

You could break the rules a little. After all, you were locked in a room for God only knows how long.

So you nodded and started undressing. “I could model for you if that is what you need.”

“What? Do not, I-”

“What is the difference between that woman and I?”

Benedict's brain told him to stop you. It was definitely not right for a lady like you to be seen naked before marriage. Worse than that, be painted.

“Y/N…”

“Am I not interesting enough to paint, Benedict?” you questioned as your dress reached the floor. “I just wish to make up for what I did.”

You started undoing your corset under his careful eyes.

“If what worries you is my identity, I believe you could use the other model's face,” you added once the corset was discarded and your bosom fully exposed to him. “It is intact in your painting.”

“I am afraid your grace cannot be compared.”

You exhaled nervously when your shaking hands reached the beginning of your underpants. “Then make justice to it.”

Finally, you stood completely naked before him and didn't dare to be modest about it.

“Paint me.”

You walked to the couch and laid in a similar position as the model in his painting.

“I cannot ask that of you.” He tried one last time, gathering all the strength in his body… You were a lady, and he was a gentleman; no matter how rare that would be of him to stop you. It was not right, but what a sight he had before him.

“Then it is good that I offered.” you refuted.

He doubted for longer than he is willing to admit, but ultimately approached you with hesitant steps.

“Allow me,” he whispered as he reached you. You nodded, and he accommodated your head so you would be looking up at the ceiling and your hands to cover what could be seen of your face to his art's convenience delicately. His touch, hot, caused goosebumps on your skin. A gasp left your lips. “You truly are beautiful.”

“Thank you.” you mumbled.

Benedict returned to the canvas, telling himself he could do this.

He shouldn't.

But if your face wouldn't be seen, it would do no harm. Only you and him would know it's you.

A few hours had passed and the night had fallen. It was difficult to paint with the growing darkness hiding your features, so he left his piece for a second to find some candles.

Before he returned to the canvas, you spoke. “Am I doing it well?”

“You certainly are,” he praised you. “A natural indeed.”

You had goosebumps once again.

What is wrong with me?, you asked yourself.

How could Benedict, of all people, make you feel like this? How could he control the speed of your heartbeat with mere words? How could he turn your skin into a burning mess that acted as if it was freezing? How could he make your hands sweat each time he got closer? How could he make you forget how much you despised him after he said he loved you?

How did he love you? He said you were family, but he did not dare to call you a sister like his siblings always do. No, this was a different kind of love: the kind of love you read about in the romance novels you have stolen from his library, because that is the way you were feeling near his presence, under his stare, at his touch.

“Come here,” you commanded long before you thought what you would say. He complied, flying to you like a moth to a flame, but you were sunlight: billions of times more powerful, and you could consume him long before he dared to reach you. He felt like a moth with wigs made of wax, melting with each step that brought him close to you. Gladly. “How do you love me, Benedict?”

“What?”

It was unbelievable that a man of words like him could act so clueless, but there he was. Oblivious to your passion, not to mention his.

“I have always been your Mama's daughter and your brothers and sisters' sister. But I have never been yours,” you mentioned. “Why, if you love me so?”

“Y/N…” His hand caressed your face, and you took the other to put it on your left breast where he could feel your heart beating.

“Kiss me if what my beating heart says about your love is true.” It was an order, and that heart of yours was certainly right.

And right then, he knew he was careless of his own insignificance. He would fly as high as the melting wax allowed him to and fall as deep into the ocean as his own weight imposed.

He could drown and disappear, live and die for this moment. For all the frustration that has haunted him all those years of loathing and yearning. For his sunlight, for you.

He kissed you, and you returned the kiss as if your lips had ever touched others before.

They haven't.

They shouldn't.

But they are now.

It was an angry kiss. Wet, carnal, breathless, hot, feral, everything.

His lips did not caress yours or danced with yours, no; they fought and devoured yours, and you gave in.

It was exquisite but depraved in a way you couldn't bring yourself to explain, and you absolutely loved it.

Once the kiss ended, you were the first to talk. “Take it all off.”

He breathed out, nerves he does not recall to have ever felt scared his determination away.

He felt as pathetic as those men he threatened to ruin if they were to set foot in the same room as you ever again, and he took off his clothes with the urgency of a task set by the scary educator of his childhood.

You looked at him, took it all in, and gave him space to lay beside you.

“It's just us, Benedict…” you let out, your breath blending with his. “You can love me now.”

His cue.

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine

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sunflower-lilac42 · 5 months

Text

✧ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 | nico hischier ♔

summary: after seeing nico's interview, y/n freaks out at her new follower. then, they meet unexpectedly.

warnings: awkward/trashy/horrible writing, and y/n and nico being somewhat awkward

notes: ahh finally here is part 2 to fangirl. i kind of like it... a little? i'm not sure but let me know if i should make this a series of blurbs and stuff.

part one (fangirl) | nhl masterlist | main masterlist

Y/n didn’t know what to expect from the postgame interview with Nico. She had fallen asleep, tired after performing and hosting SNL so she wasn’t able to watch the game nor was she able to watch any of the interviews. However, when she woke up to her friends texting her and her social media notifications all over the place, it was the first thing she watched.

She laid in bed as she watched it, entranced with the Swiss man and then that was when she heard her name. Bolting upright, her eyes widened as she focused on her phone. “Yeah, well you know, I haven’t actually met her so I can’t say I like her but I do think she’s cute and that’s all I’m going to say about this.”

Nico Hischier. Like the Nico Hischier thinks she is cute like Nico Hischier of the New Jersey Devils. She was going insane. This wasn’t real.

She went onto Twitter to see her fans going crazy about the interviewer. She was sure none of her fans watched hockey, let alone knew who Nico was until she mentioned him in that interview. She thought she was 100% dreaming until she clicked on Instagram and saw the + follower symbol come up.

nicohischier followed you

She could die happy right there, her crush (her celebrity crush mind the fact) followed her on Instagram. Yep, this was her happy ending.

✧༺✎༻∞

Y/n has lived in New Jersey since she was born, always being somewhat of a hockey fan, learning things here and there from her father. So even when she became a famous singer, she still chose to live in New Jersey because it was home to her.

She didn’t really piece together the fact that she could potentially run into Nico Hischier and some point in time in her life. I mean the odds of her and him being even in the same state were low, but them actually running into each other, was even lower. New Jersey was the fifth smallest state in the US but there was still a high chance of them not meeting, like ever.

So when she was at a coffee shop near East Rutherford, planning to meet up with one of her friends who lived out this way, she didn’t expect the Captain of her favorite hockey team to be standing there, clad in a New Jersey Devil sweatshirt and some sweatpants. It was an off day for them in between homestands, so she could’ve only assumed that they were either done with practice or would have practice later in the day.

It was like her whole world stopped when she looked up from her phone. His following her on Instagram was enough to make her day, but she thinks this might have just been what made her year, maybe her whole entire life.

She stared at him for at least five minutes before his eyes looked up from his phone and locked onto hers. Her eyes widened at the eye contact and quickly diverted their gaze to whatever she was doing on her phone. Oh, that was not helpful.

On her phone were pictures of Nico, because, well she didn’t have a reason, but did she need one anyway?

She heard the screeching of the chair in front of her and hoped Lila was finally here so they could leave this place and escape her bubble of embarrassment. Looking up she saw the man looking back at her and he waved once she finally looked up.

She panicked and closed out whatever app she was on (photos, Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, who cares? There were still pictures of the man in front of her on her screen.), and slammed her phone down on the table.

He waved at her and her cheeks reddened, “You’re- You’re Nico Hischier?” Her voice came out as more of a question than a statement, which wasn’t what she was intending to do.

“Yep, and you’re y/n y/l/n.” His voice was on the cockier side and she stared at him “You know who I am?”

“I’m pretty sure a lot of people know who you are. And what kind of person would I be if I didn’t know about the girl who publicly acclaimed her love for me?”

She stumbled over her words as she tried to talk and Nico cut her off, “It’s okay, I’ve seen and heard worse from fans.”

“That I can believe.” The two chuckled and looked at each other, not knowing what to say or do next.

“Look this might be a stretch but since I embarrassed myself, very publicly I might add, and might as well be doing it again, I should get a favor in return, right?”

Nico raised an eyebrow at the girl, “Depends on what this ‘favor’ is?” He lifted his coffee mug and took a sip of the liquid inside.

“Can I get your number? I know it’s really forward and all and it might be a little creepy but-”

She was cut off by a hand that touched hers, “That’s not really much of a favor. It’s more like common sense.”

Nico wordlessly took her phone from in front of her and turned it over, “Were you looking at pictures of me?”

His lips turned upwards into a smirk and she squeezed her eyes shut, “Maybe?”

“Don’t worry, I think it’s kind of adorable.” Just as her cheeks returned to a normal color again, they flushed a deep shade of pink once more.

Nico effortlessly typed his phone number into her contacts and texted himself so he’d have hers. They each had the same thing in mind when they pulled up their cameras and went to take a picture of each other. Y/n giggled as she saw Nico’s phone pointed at her, “I guess great minds think alike.”

After setting their contact phones, they talked for a brief couple of minutes when Lila barged in, “Y/n! I am so sorry I’m late, I feel horrible. But you’ll never guess what I found out- holy shit, that’s-”

“Hi, I’m Nico.”

“Yeah, yeah you are. When did- When did you two meet?”

“Like five minutes ago?”

“Oh, okay cool.”

“Listen if you two are supposed to hang out, I can leave-”

“No. no, you stay. I’ll leave. Have fun you two, but not too much!” Lila said calling after the two, exiting the coffee shop.

“We’ll she’s… interesting. In the nicest way possible.”

“I’m sorry about her, honestly.”

The two continued to talk for about an hour or two before Nico had to leave, “I’m so sorry my teammate, well friend, just texted me. Apparently, he and his brother are having an ‘emergency’. And by emergency, I’m pretty sure he just means they found a spider in their apartment.”

Y/n, not even bothering to conceal her knowledge of the team or the fact that she took time to put the dots together, blurted out, “Jack and Luke are afraid of spiders?”

Nico’s eyes widened, “You know them?”

“Yeah, I’m a huge Devils fan. Have been since I was born but also none of your other teammates are brothers…”

“Oh, right. Well, I hate to leave you alone, but when duty calls as captain.”

“Go, do your captain duties.” Y/n waved goodbye to Nico as he ran out of the coffee shop and smiled, she had just met Nico Hischier.

✧༺✎༻∞

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Nico and y/n had hung out whenever possible. Whenever he had an off day they would hang out, he would invite her to lunch on game days if possible, he texted her when he and the team got back from their road trip and invited her over to his house.

They were, to put it in simple turns, obsessed with each other. They finally went on a proper date to one of y/n’s favorite restaurants. This pattern continued through multiple occasions and everyone could see the differences in their faces and lives.

Whenever y/n would hang out with her friends or go to an interview or something along those lines, you could see her glowing as she talked or just sat there. Nico’s teammates would eye him weirdly when he’d smile at his phone or was happier during morning skates. His smile was bigger and brighter whenever they won and even when they lost he still had a bit of a glow to him, much like y/n did.

On their fifth date, Nico finally asked the question, “Well we’ve known each other for about, how long has it been? Two months?”

Y/n nodded her head as she took a drink of the water that sat on the table in front of her. They were at Nico’s house and it was an off day once again for him. She waited for him to continue speaking, her nerves bundling up inside of her, “Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to make it official you know?”

Her eyes widened, not ever in a million years did she meet Nico Hischier, let alone him ask her to be his girlfriend, “What are you saying, Neeks?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Y/n nodded and hugged him tightly, you would have thought the two just got engaged. After talking for a bit they decided to quote-unquote soft launch. Her friends were begging for details about her glowiness, much like Nico’s teammates. They didn’t have to reveal it all just yet, right?

✧༺✎༻∞

yourusername

liked by nicohischier, yourbff, lhughes_06, and 213,039 others

youruserame i guess you were in need of a life update?

tagged nicohischier

*comments on this post have been limited*

yourbff do my eyes deceive me or is this a hard launch??

nicohischier 🫶🏻

⤷ yourusername @/nicohischier 🫶🏻

lhughes_06 mom!

✧༺✎༻∞

nicohischier

liked by yourusername, jackhughes, dawson1417, and 43,562 others

nicohischier life recently

tagged yourusername, jackhughes

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yourusername ❤️🖤

⤷ nicohischier @/yourusername 🖤❤️

tmeier96 cap 🫡

vitacz15 @/yourusername it was so great to meet you

⤷ yourusername @/vitacz15 ahh i love you vitek!

yourusername awe, my boyfriend and his boyfriend!

⤷ jackhughes @/yourusername hey he was mine first

⤷ nicohischier @/yourusername @/jackhughes i have no idea what either of you are talking about

⤷ user07 even y/n knows

#sunny lune writes #hockey #nhl #nico hischier #nh13 #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x you #new jersey #new jersey devils #nj devils #devils

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moonrisecoeur · 5 months

Text

gratitude — leon kennedy

author’s note: i don’t love doing taglists bc it’s kind of tedious but a couple people asked to be tagged so i’ll tag them in the comments of this post! please send asks/write comments/add tags to reblog if you liked this! that would be wonderful!

wc: 3.6k

content: sub!leon x fem!reader, sugar baby leon, mommy kink, orgasm control, pegging, hickies mentioned. leon is 21 reader is ‘slightly older’.

warnings: mentions but not depictions of financial abuse, dubcon, and prostitution (seen in a negative light; we support sex workers here)

this is a birthday gift to angel! @angelofwoe go give her some love :)

—

5. 4. 3. 2. 1…

incoming call from ‘leon ken(nedy)’

accept or decline?

you look over at your phone while you’re waiting at a red light, driving home from work. you smile, like clockwork, leon calls you at exactly 5 pm each day, and most of the time, you’re coming home. to him. the thought still makes your heart jump a little bit. leon is waiting at home, your home, and now his home too, for you.

he’s waiting for you.

god, your stomach does somersaults. he’s perfect.

you answer the call, clicking it on and waiting for it to connect the two of you, “hello?”

“hey!” he says, and you missed his voice. you smile softly at his enthusiasm, “what should i get and/or make for dinner? don’t know if you trust me to cook in your kitchen unsupervised yet…”

“i would let you,” you say, looking out the window, “though maybe i’d stop by a cafe for dinner on my way home.”

“hey, c’mon now!” he tries to defend himself, but he laughs, god you’re obsessed with that sound, “okay, okay, fair. i get it. really, though, what’ll it be?”

you think for a second, and you realize that leon doesn’t really ever get a choice, he just goes along with whatever you want, “hmm… why don’t you pick, baby?”

he goes silent for a second, “you sure?” and when you make a sound of approval, even though he gave you a chance to back out, he sighs, “fine. don’t say i didn’t warn you when we’re eating chicken nuggets tonight.”

“wow, what fine cuisine, leon,” you smile.

—

“wow, what fine cuisine, leon,” he smiles at the sound of your teasing voice. he can’t help liking you. i mean, how is he supposed to not like you? not only do you take care of him, buy him nice things, but you’re also so fucking pretty? what the hell?

“anyway, i’ll see you soon, baby. miss me a little bit, but not too much, okay?” you tell him, breaking him out of the daze that is listening to you talk. he feels bad that he wasn’t really paying attention to what you were saying.

“y-yeah. i’ll see you at home,” he stutters, quickly hanging up, clutching his phone to his chest. home. your… home. god, this was bad. he was going to go insane one of these days if you didn’t stop being so goddamn perfect.

leon had this preconception forever ago that sugar daddies and mommies and whatever the hell else were always old, decrepit people who gave you money for basically doing your best not to gag when you see them naked. people you take advantage of, who you give your body to in exchange for being able to afford anything. it’s an exchange, sex for money (no, sex for power). which would make him a… prostitute? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t want to know.

but god, you are so much more than that, practically his dream woman. sure, you’re a little older than him, but it’s not like girls his age are soft and sweet with him like you are. they expect so much, they expect him to be the perfect boyfriend 24/7. he could do it, sure, but it would be an act. a desperate act of manipulation for him to get what he wants.

what does he want? well, that’s the tricky part. he tries not to let on too much how intensely this one thing affects him, even with you. it would be too much power to let you have over him, and you already have way too much.

truthfully, you… leon doesn’t like to think about it, but you could take advantage of him if you really wanted to. he’s so used to such an easy lifestyle, he can’t go back to struggling and barely paying his bills. you really could use him for the one and only thing he has to give you whenever you please, and it’s not even that he can’t stop you, because he knows he’s stronger than you, but he knows you could dangle your financial control over his head and he would be at your feet, on his knees in an instant.

he doesn’t know why he even bothers to think about it. he knows you’re not like that. hell, he looks at you with half decent puppy eyes and you’re sending him more money just because he looks cuter than usual today. if anyone is the master manipulator here, it’s him, not you. you have only pure intentions, and leon appreciates that even if he can never 100% trust it.

—

leon is a weird sugar baby. he doesn’t ask for things, he doesn’t use up all of his allowance, he doesn’t beg you for every shiny thing that catches his eye. he’s simple, not demanding, not exhausting you of every last penny in your account.

not that you would… really care? leon could do anything, absolutely anything, and you’d forgive him. he doesn’t need your forgiveness, not for the sassy little jokes he makes, not for the way he awkwardly says the wrong thing at the wrong time in conversation. leon was easy to forgive. easy to adore.

but, that's off topic. you try not to think about how lovable the pretty thing was. too easily you could get lost in him, never make it out alive.

he’s not demanding, he just uses your money to pay for his rent and take care of himself, his bills, his utilities and groceries, stuff like that. or well he used to use the money to pay for his rent, but now that he’s moved in with you, he doesn’t even have that expense anymore. he might treat himself and buy himself a little something small he normally couldn’t afford. the rest he’ll save.

can you blame the guy for being so cheap? he finished the police academy, but the job he had lined up fell through. so what is he supposed to do? work a minimum wage job? serve tables until he dies or his body gives out on him? sue him for wanting better for himself.

and so… he met you. he had no intention of using you.. at first. but even now he feels bad. he truly can’t get on board with being a sugar baby, he feels like he’s extorting you. you have to tell him each and every time his bank account number skyrockets that you will always have enough to continue your lifestyle, what's the point of just having the rest of it sitting around when you could be giving it to a pretty little thing like him?

still.. sometimes leon feels awful. can’t help it no matter what you tell him.

he just can’t really afford to say no to the money, because now he has all of his debt paid off and an emergency fund and a savings account for fun trips to take you on and another one for expensive gifts to buy you as a small, tiny, miniscule thank you. it’s only one part of how he really shows his gratitude. you’ve given him a better life than he could ever give himself, and he will never forget that.

how else does he show his gratitude?

–

you make it home, and immediately see the containers of chicken nuggets on the kitchen counter. you chuckle, again, endeared by leon’s choice of cuisine. it was what he wanted, after all, and you always let him have whatever he wanted. it’s so representative of him. they’re inexpensive, perfect for someone so frugal like him. they’re a comfort food, easy on the stomach, they’re delicious, and that’s probably all of the comparisons you could make between chicken nuggets and leon kennedy before you burst out laughing in delirium.

“oh thank god you’re home…” he says softly, reaching to grab your bag and your coat to put up so you can sit down, “i’m so glad you’re back, you must have worked so hard today.”

you lean in to press a quick kiss to his lips before doing so, and he’s immediately left dazed after just one little half-a-second long kiss. his eyes follow you as you collapse on the couch, “yeah, it was a long one. just glad to be back with you, baby.”

his heart aches for you as you sink into the couch, exhaustion present in your entire demeanor, seeping off of you through the cracks in your composure.

he knows what’ll make you feel better. or at least… he hopes he does. if you’re not in the mood, he’ll just laugh awkwardly and try to play it off.

he takes a deep breath in, bracing himself for the awkwardness that always comes with saying this word, “…mommy,” he whispers, and he immediately has all of your attention, suddenly all that exhaustion in your soul is replaced by an intensity that he can’t quite understand.

one word… and you’re already losing your composure? he didn’t know he was that good.

“baby…” you coo back to him, almost warning him. as if you’re saying, if you start this, you better be ready to see it through.

“wanna help you… feel better, mommy…” he says, his fingertips brushing against your thigh. fucking tease.

you always look at him like he puts the stars in the sky, but now? you’re looking at him like you want him seeing stars.

“you sure?”

“positive,” he mumbles.

again, this is all he has to give you. his love, his soul, his… body. he doesn’t want this to be transactional, sexual submission for money. he’s not a prostitute, but he genuinely has nothing else that even comes close to the value of gifts and money and just fucking everything you’ve given him.

you don’t ask for sex too often, even when he knows you’re horny. you’re so obvious but so understanding that your kinks and preferences are a little foreign to him. in his defense, he’s had one girlfriend right before he met you and she was the most vanilla person in the goddamn world. genuinely he could have switched positions on her and she would have thought it was too much.

“take me what you want from me, mommy,” he whispers, and yet for someone so inexperienced, he does it so well.

so well that you can’t help pouncing on him, pinning him underneath you. he feels your gentle yet firm grip on his wrists, the way your hair falls in front of your face as you hover on top of him, and he just has the softest urge to tuck it behind your ear. he can’t, but he wishes he could.

he doesn't get the chance to think about it much when your lips find his neck and he is immediately melted by their softness, their gentleness that makes him want to just break down and sob. he just wants to be treated softly, just wants to be held down and kissed like you’re doing right now.

“please,” he breathes, ironic because all you do is steal his breath away. your lips touch just over his subtle adam’s apple as you switch sides, pressing kisses into his neck, collarbone, and shoulder. he kind of wants you to bite down, leave red and purple aching bruises covering his neck, make him shudder and tremble with every love bite.

he knows you won’t.

“i don’t damage what’s mine,” you’d said once, and it left him dizzy. so casually asserting your ownership over him like that had his cock twitching in his pants. you very quickly learned to take advantage of his affection towards your possessiveness. you have to be subtle and you can’t do it too much, but every once and a while, you take your opportunity. you make your small little comments, you add ‘my’ in front of a pet name, you eye him like a piece of meat (intentionally being obvious so he’ll notice), etc.

your possessiveness is even better if it’s sort of objectifying. he might just like it more.

he wishes he could touch you, but what would it even be for? if you wanted him to make you feel good, you’d have shoved his face between your legs, tangled your fingers in his blonde hair, moaned as he ate your pussy while looking up at you with those pretty blue eyes, so full of an emotion you wanted to study in detail. it couldn’t be love, there’s no way. you settle for something else, even if it’s less satisfying.

devotion.

—

and even with your cock buried deep, deep inside of him, stretching him open and filling him up entirely, he’s still got that same glimmer of devotion in his eyes, but that’s irrelevant.

it’s irrelevant because he’s a desperate mess of a man right now and it’s all you should be concerned with, “mommy, fuck, please, i—”

“say you belong to me, pretty boy,” you groan in his ear, his body shivering and trembling at the pleasure that’s about to hit him. he’s gotta wait for your permission, though.

“yours, yours, fuck, all yours, my fucking body belongs to you, you can- you can use it whenever you want, however you want, for however long. it doesn't matter,” he cries,’s his voice raspy, he trying to keep himself together and he’s failing miserably, “fuck, fuck, god, and i- my body… i owe you my body as a thank you for- oh, f-fuck!- for your m-money, i- it’s all i can give you that’s worth anything-.”

“…yeah? you owe me?” you smirk, pressing your hand against his lower stomach, feeling the bulge your cock inside him. it drives you insane. he’s babbling about something you don’t care to listen to. something about being indebted to you, that sex is him paying you back for how perfect you are. you don’t listen. it’ll just make you sad.

“gonna give me what i want, right? because you owe me,” you say. sure, you felt bad, but you never said you were pure good. you’re entitled to leon and everything he could possibly give you, aren’t you?

he tries to speak, but your cock always makes him as stupid as can be. he tries, oh he tries, to respond, to say yes, i’ll give you everything, i’m all yours to claim and keep forever, but the sounds come out as jumbled moans out of the back of his throat. he gives up trying to talk, clearly that’s beyond him now, and communicates his feelings by holding your waist gently, his fingertips pressing against your skin.

he moans out absolutely pathetically as you thrust in and out of him, keeping him held down with your hands pushing down on his shoulders. his body contorts to your will, his soul too. you could do anything to him and get away with it, with him in this beautiful headspace.

he’s gorgeous like this, and you take a moment to admire him. glassy, distant , tear filled eyes, sweaty blonde hair, skin little with small marks of whatever lip product you use. god, he’s nothing less than fucking perfect.

if only you both didn’t have responsibilities in your everyday lives because the only thing that could make him prettier is if he was like this every single day, fucked out of his mind, desperate, stupid from the pleasure of your cock pushing firmly against his prostate.

“gonna cum, baby?” you ask maliciously, knowing he didn’t have enough of his mind working to even register the question, “gonna give yourself over to mommy? live in her home, let her keep you as a pet? couldn’t leave her even if you wanted to, and you definitely don’t.”

he looks for an out as his eyes shift up at the ceiling, still somehow finding it in himself to be shy.

“look at me,” you growl, one hand moving to his face to cup his cheek, fingertips brushing against his jaw. he obeys, making weak eye contact, blinking the tears away from his eyes, “ask me for permission to cum.”

cruel? yes, because the most his stupid mind can come up with to say is that pretty name you make him call you, “m-mommy…”

you remember him looking at you confused, almost a little uncomfortable, when you said you liked that name. it definitely tracks, you’re his sugar mommy… and you expect him to call him mommy. not exactly revolutionary, but his hesitancy to do so is what makes these moments truly special. earlier, he said it intentionally, mainly to get your attention and get you riled up, distracted from work and responsibilities.

but now? he truly can’t help it falling past his lips. every time he says it, or more accurately moans it, he feels even more attached to it, attached to you. he’s imagined saying it more casually, in everyday conversation, but he could never get over how humiliating it felt.

you graciously let him call you by name most of the time, something he has been endlessly grateful for.

but in this headspace, leon can’t think of a single other word but mommy.

“c’mon, sweetheart. won’t get any easier to think with mommy’s cock deep inside of you. mommy can wait all night sweetheart, but i’m not sure you can.”

he can’t. he knows he can’t cum because you haven’t given him permission, but he can’t ask permission if you keep saying things that make him dumber and slower. he can hold off his orgasm for a while when he tops, he’s gotten decently good at that, but with your cock filling him up like this? he would be lucky if he lasted another minute.

“fuck- ah, mommy… m-mommy, plea…. please…” he breathes heavily, trying so damn hard, it melts your heart how badly he’s trying for you.

“please what, baby? you know i’ll say yes, just ask mommy what you want.”

wet cheeks and trembling lips from him make your heart ache for him. you’d give him anything.

“c-cum, mommy?…. c-can i…?”

you nod, biting your lip, almost more excited than he is to watch him fall apart, “mhm, ‘course, baby… let go for mommy, i got you… here…” you say, taking a hold of his cock to jerk him off through his orgasm to get everything you can from him, milk him for all he’s worth. his body tries to give you everything it can.

his eyes shut tightly as he gives you the loudest moan probably… ever? you’ve never heard him cry out like that, and you wish you could have recorded it to go back and hear it again. his voice breaks, and he takes a sharp breath in, holding it as his muscles tense and spasm until he’s left achy and exhausted and filled to the brim with pleasure.

“awhh…. so cute, baby…” you mumble, “c’mon, give me all of it, don’t make me make you cum again. if it’s anything like the first, you might just pass out, sweet boy.”

“ah… oh, oh my god,” he breathes heavily, twitching, “mommy… mommy, i- mommy, please… please, mommy,” he can’t stop thinking about it. mommy is all he can think about like this.

he cries, literally. the kind where you can’t help sobbing and sniffing and you curl in on yourself in a desperate attempt to self soothe. you half expected it; leon usually cries after more intense sex. he doesn’t know why, but usually he’s embarrassed of it and tries to hide it. he must just be too far gone right now to care.

you pull out, earning a desperate whine that makes you want to rail it back into him, balls deep, watch him squeeze his eyes shut tightly and him scream in pleasure, but you restrain yourself. he's crying right now. even though he would technically consent, he wouldn’t really want it.

you take 30 seconds to clean both of you off, and those 30 seconds are tortuous to him, even if you’re praising him the whole time.

that’s it. his greatest weakness. praise.

no, your praise.

to be told he’s good, to be told he did a good job, to be told you’re proud of him. he sobs as he soaks in your praise like a sponge. he wants to listen to your sweet words every single day for the rest of his life. you whisper to him how he’s perfect, everything about him is, how you adore him, wanna give him everything so he’ll stay with you forever, etc.

in his defense, he has absolutely zero control over what he’s saying right now, but he looks up at you, with tear-filled, red eyes, his bottom lip trembling just slightly, “you don’t have to give me stuff… i’m always gonna be yours.”

and it hits a nerve you haven’t felt in a long time. maybe it’s the subspace he’s in, or maybe you’re reading the situation wrong, so you don’t push it, but something inside your heart feels… off.

to put it bluntly, he shouldn’t be yours. he should find someone he could really love to spend his days with. there’s no reason for leon to stay with you if you stopped giving him money, paying his bills, and taking care of him. at least, there shouldn’t be?

oh, unless…

–

a couple hours later, you’re sitting at the kitchen counter with him, eating cold chicken nuggets and giggling about whatever you were watching on tv. leon looks at you a little differently than usual right now, his eyes softer, fonder than you’re used to. his eyes carefully track your more animated hand movements as you passionately explain something about this show. he has no idea what you’re talking about; he just likes hearing you speak.

he kisses the corner of your lip when you jokingly ask if you have anything on your face, which turns into a full kiss that leaves him a little breathless, that feeling of excitement and nerves returning in his stomach.

yeah, he thinks to himself, pure, unadulterated beauty.

as you kiss, he pulls back to look into your eyes, looking at you as if you held up each individual constellation for him, with a godly reverence that would almost turn you on if the moment wasn’t weirdly romantic.

“baby…?” your voice sounds shaky and unsure, and he doesn’t miss your lack of composure.

maybe that was a good thing. a sign.

he chuckles, “nothing, mommy… nothing at all.”

662 notes · View notes

voidbeomgyu · 9 months

Text

ALONE (Teaser)

In which you meet your bias in the worst circumstances.

PAIRING Idol Jake Sim x Fan Fem Reader

GENRE Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Slow Burn, Romance/Strangers to Lovers, Suggestive (Maybe smut, not sure yet.), some fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MDNI, Descriptions of violence, death, blood, etc., All members except Jake died so keep that in mind (I'm sorry), Cursing, Crimes, Mental health talk and experiences, Death, Sickness (Throwing up), Making out, Smut(?), It's an apocalypse!au idk how else to warn about that LOL

SUMMARY The group Enhypen get on a plane to the US and when landing are met with the worst. Jake makes it out alive... but alone. Since the dead are attracted to areas where the population is saturated, your best bet is to stay low in the areas usually considered dangerous (alleyways, abandoned buildings, etc). He made his way into the country and found a nice cabin alongside a lake. His further inspection led him to believe it was abandoned for whatever reason, maybe it was a vacation home? Little did he know his inference was correct, and soon he was met face to face with a member of the family who owned it. How would she react to seeing her favorite artist rummaging through the cupboards of her new--hopefully permanent--home? And how would he be able to explain to a loyal fan of his that he was the only member left?

TEASER WORD COUNT 1,625

RELEASE DATE To be determined.

TAGLIST Comment on this post or send an ask to be added. (Have your age on your profile or you will not be tagged)

Endless walking while trying to find a suitable place to stay was slowly driving Jake insane. The exhaustion from travelling, fear of death, and anguish from the scene at the airport was weighing down on him heavier and heavier every second. Having watched his best friends, his brothers, his family all being taken away from him without being able to do anything but listen to the oldest’s words, “Run”.

Jake had not yet cried, there was no time for it. It’s been almost thirty six hours since then, he’d stolen a bike around a mile away from the airport. It’s helped him a lot on his journey to safety. He never stole, he wasn’t like that, not that type of person. But in the moment he didn’t have the time nor energy to feel guilty about it.

Jake didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he wanted quiet. Not knowing wether or not it’ll be safer in the city or the country side, he chose the latter. Cities are crowded with people, meaning they must be crowded with the dead by now, right? No matter; either way he knew he’d feel much better being in the middle of nowhere, or at least in the middle of what looked like nowhere. All alone in an abandoned farm house, maybe a lake house, any house on the country side would do. He was being too optimistic, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. Finding a safe home to live in alone with no one around for miles sounded comforting.

The Jake from two days ago would’ve shivered at the thought of being completely alone. Though no extrovert, he needed people. He needed that connection, that interaction. His reasons to smile and laugh were mostly based around the people around him or the entertainment he consumed. Entertainment was out of the question now, and it seemed like people were too. Most dead, and others probably too violent to give Jake a chance due to the circumstances.

All he held on him was his and Sunghoon’s carry-on bag from the flight. Note to self, don’t try to save your friend by holding onto their bag. Thoughts like this crossed his mind every few minutes, tragedies sentenced as jokes but he wasn’t laughing. What’s wrong with me? How could I think something like that? Maybe it was the dehydration, starvation, overall fatigue? He hadn’t eaten anything since the flight and was savoring the small amount of water he had on him. Either way, thinking of his beloved friends didn’t do much to help his mood. Trying to think of the good times? Those good times will never happen again, they’re gone forever and I’ll never get them back.

More days passed like this. With a stop at a gas station probably being the reason he’s even alive right now. It was abandoned, for the most part. It was the early morning, and he was literally starving now. The cashier was still there, but his neck was chained so tightly to the wall that it was on the edge of ripping his head clean off. Oh, he was a living corpse too. Jake could tell that much by just looking at him, muffled grunts and groans coming from the pale body every minute. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care much of Jake’s criminal activities there. Stuffing whatever foods and drinks he could into the bags he had on him. They were even heavier now, but he couldn’t feel anything. He was numb to all feeling, mentally and physically.

At day four he had started keeping track of how many days passed with a calendar he found on the wall of the gas station that morning. He didn’t stay there though, he didn’t have it in him to kill the cashier, and he knew that if he somehow got loose while he was sleeping it would all be over. The past few days he hadn’t slept or rested much at all actually. Napping for at most an hour at a time, waking up to the slightest noises and scurries of nearby wildlife. He knows he’s incredibly lucky to not have encountered any of the dead, besides the one at the gas station, but it’s a little stressful to not have seen any either. Where could they all be? He had made it out of the city, the once bustling streets on day two, he knew many people weren’t out here to begin with. But knowing there are creatures that could kill him in seconds lurking while having no idea where they are was terrifying.

It’s been six days. His legs started feeling numb just hours after finding his bike due to the frantic pedaling, now he felt like his legs were asleep all the time. The feeling of pins and needles covered his lower body as they worked on auto pilot to keep him going. His back felt horrible, slouched from his broken spirit. Endless cramping and soreness of his hands and fingers from gripping the bikes handles for hours at a time. His knuckles were white, and now so was his once tanned and alive skin.

His lack of proper meals, sleep, and rest was now obvious. Jake hasn’t seen himself since that day in the airport, but from looking at his now thinner, paler, vein visible arms, he could take a guess at what his face looked like. Hell, he could feel the bags under his eyes whenever he blinked now.

It’s been quiet and empty for a few miles. Nothing but grass, and a dirt trail he’s been following in sight. How long is this damn trail? he thought. Jake started following the trail at the sunset of day five; he remembers because of his calendar. It was coming to the end of day six, the sun starting to set in the distance behind him. He found a flashlight at the gas station and used it to find himself a place to “rest” for the nights he faced, it neared the time to find a spot to sleep.

Trees were all around him now, the area looked more alive here, not dried out and dead like the miles before. He must be getting close to some sort of building, forest trails usually have a building as a starting point, right? Unless this trail wasn’t made for hikers, in that case he was hoping in vain.

It was almost completely dark now. Jake had usually found somewhere to stay by this time, but something was telling him to keep going. Using the flashlight to illuminate the shadowed forest, he heard his friends voices cheering him on over and over again.

“Keep going Jake!”

“Just a little longer!”

“You’ll be okay!”

Tears were unconsciously streaming down his face now, though he still didn’t feel anything. His body just gave up on the effort of keeping them in.

Jake pedaled faster. He couldn’t hear anything but his heavy panting, it felt like someone had covered his ears with their hands and muted the sound of everything around him. He saw something in the distance, the roof of a building; he padaled faster. A house, the roof made of wood, looked like a cabin; he padaled faster. He could hear the muffled sound of streaming water; he pedaled faster.

Face to face with a cabin, going so fast he couldn’t stop himself from crashing into the wet grass below him. Still struck with adrenaline, he pulled himself up quickly and dragged his bike to the front door. His broken and unused voice sounded through his pants as he tried frantically to open the damned door.

The door handle had a key hole but was locked with a rusty padlock. He could turn the handle and wriggle the door, that padlock was what he needed to remove. He pulled a hammer out of his bag; he grabbed it from the gas station floor, it was covered in dried blood. Obviously used by someone prior to leaving it there. Jake slammed the hammer into the padlock, over and over again. The loud bangs from striking the lock were null to Jake’s ears, his desperation coating over all his sense.

Smash. The padlocks body is broken away from its handle and the door is free from it’s hold on the wooden frame.

Jake shoves his way inside, throwing the bike onto the hard floor of the entry way before turning to lock the door. It was locked from the outside but had a perfectly working lock on the inside, though he didn’t care to question it. He made it, he was safe, he felt like he could faint.

He had no time to think, let alone find a good source of light before he threw up. Keeling on the once clean floor, liquid from his stomach poured out from him. His throat burned and ached at the feeling, like his throat was made of sandpaper. Falling back he sat on the floor, staring at the door and the mess he made on the ground. He laid back and let his eyes rest for the first time in nineteen hours. Jake fell asleep there on the hard floor, knee propped up on the backside of a couch.

If he was thinking clearly, he would’ve checked the entire cabin, then scavenged for any foods that may be there. But he was broken, body and mind. Luck had been on his side since the beginning though. The home was completely vacant before he entered, and when he wakes up he’ll have found himself a place to live in safely. Away from the corpses living in the surrounding cities, and away from any still living people, all alone.

(A/N: Hello friends! I'm finally writing LOL I've had this wip since December and I'm finally going to finish it. This post is just to see if people would even be interested lol. The total fic word count I don't know yet because I haven't finished it, but I am close! I won't give y'all any hints but I will apologize in advance for the angst I'm about to put y'all thru<3 sorry love you guys muah. Don't know exactly when I will publish the full fic, maybe right when I finish it, maybe a month after I finish it IDK I haven't written seriously in months so I'm not too confident anymore but I am excited. Hope y'all are as excited as I am :D )

746 notes · View notes

futureman · 10 months

Note

hi ur writing is so so good, makes me go insane ur amazing

okay so could you do a normally dom!joel but one day he has the day off and reader doesn’t, so all he does ALL day is think about her. When she gets home he’s worked himself into a frenzy, desperate asf. So instead of his usual dominant self he’s desperate!joel whining and whimpering for her to touch him, make him cum, moaning in her ear and grinding against her.. all of that fun stuff 🤭

thank u for ur time, pls excuse the depravity 🙏🏾

hi nonie! loooved this request so much. i got a similar one from @luvrxbunny, so i combined them a bit and made it a lil longer. hope you both enjoy!

omg ur so amazing ily pls pls pls pls pls pls pls can i have dom!joel with a praise kink 🙏🏾 he doesn’t even really realize it but reader does and she’s just pummels him with praise while he’s fucking her and he does feral, moaning and grunting in her ear i’m sorry im so feral

way too damn needy

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, language, smut, dom-turned-sub!joel, gentle-dom!reader, praise kink, masturbation, phone sex, blowjobs, face fucking, lil fluff

word count: 2.8k

What a way to spend his only day off in weeks. The weather’s perfect for playing his guitar on the porch, and he thought he’d even squeeze in a swim before getting started on building that new bedside table for Sarah. He had plans.

But instead, Joel’s stalking around his living room like a caged animal in an endless loop of waiting, waiting, waiting.

It’s like he’s been transported back to his teenage years when every guy in a relationship followed his girl around like a puppy, always at her beck and call. Wondering what she was doing, if she was thinking about him. Except he wasn’t even that guy in high school. Not then, and definitely not now.

There’s really no logical reason for him to be this wound up, totally unable to do a single thing on his to-do list just because you’re not home. Leave it to your company to be the only one in the entire country that doesn’t give their employees Labor Day off.

That’s probably a gross exaggeration, but what does he care? He’s been tragically affected by this clearly personal transgression, and has to wait…two more hours? Seriously? You normally leave around 5:30, which means you’re home by six, and he’s not sure he can wait that long.

The sad fact of it all is that he’s already wasted almost the entire day not enjoying all of those relaxing activities he’d planned for. What’s even sadder is that he’s been half-hard for most of it, intermittently pausing his ridiculous pacing to grind the heel of his hand into his crotch for relief. Petulantly waiting for you to get home and take care of it for him.

Well, another hour’s gone by, it’s 5 pm, and he’s officially past his limit. At this point, he's probably better off handling it himself, at least until you're finally back. Then, you’re all his.

He’ll fill you up with every last bit of pent-up frustration he’s felt since you left the house this morning, making you regret not just calling in sick. You might have to tomorrow after he’s done with you.

Joel drops onto the couch, laying to face the door so he’s the first thing you see when you walk in. Pulling his boxers and jeans down just enough to get his cock out, he wraps his hand around himself, immediately hissing out a breath through his teeth. Shit, he’s been hard for hours and just that slight touch already has him leaking precum all over his fingers.

For a moment, he worries that maybe he’s a little too worked up, that he’ll cum way before he gets the chance to make you sorry for making him feel so desperate. So needy. And that makes him mad.

It should be your fingers covered in precum, your plush lips sucking him down to the hilt, and your pretty pussy aching with the need to have him inside you. Funny how you’re always so good for him, except today when he needs you the most.

His hand starts to move languidly before he can stop it, the slide wet and tight, just like he knows you’ll be. But it’s not you, and that makes him even angrier. If he can’t feel you the way he needs to, then maybe your voice will hold him over until he can.

The phone only rings twice before you pick up.

“Baby, I’m busy right now. What’s up?” you answer, slightly out of breath.

It’s cruel, but Joel honestly doesn’t give a shit if you’re busy. Not when his mind is this clouded with thoughts of you on your back, breathing much heavier than you are right now. But he manages to keep that to himself.

“You comin’ home soon?” he asks gruffly, still tugging on his cock, head thrown back on the armrest of the couch.

“Uhh, probably leaving in about…a half hour?” Your voice lilts like you had to double-check the time. “Everything okay?”

“Any chance you can leave now?” he tries again, side-stepping your question.

The desperation in his voice is obvious, and it makes him feel even more pathetic. He wonders if you can hear it. Part of him hopes you can.

“Why, did something happen? Is Sarah okay?” you ask, clearly concerned.

“S’fine, everythin’s fine. Just miss ya, s’all," he lies shakily.

Of course, he misses you, but nothing here is fine. His angrily weeping cock is a testament to that. He's all but fucking into his own fist now, hips bucking off the couch as he pants into the phone.

“Joel, what—are you touching yourself? Jesus,” you mumble, and he can hear your heels clacking against the floor like you’re walking somewhere. Quickly.

“Been thinkin’ about ya all damn day. Dunno why you went into work on a fuckin’ holiday,” he grunts. “Should’a been here with me, on your back, beggin’ for my cock like a good girl.”

You inhale sharply and, though muted through the phone, he hears it loud and clear, dribbling more precum down his shaft. Unfamiliar voices start to filter through the speaker, so he’s guessing you can’t say much.

And that’s okay. He has no problem filling the silence. Joel loves talking to you while he’s getting off.

“Had me feelin’ needy today, babygirl. Y’know I don’t like that,” he says dangerously. Your heels hit the ground faster, and he subconsciously matches his strokes to your pace. “Thought I was losin’ my mind for a while there. Was just about ready to let you do whatever you wanted to me when you got home, s’long as I got to fuck that tight pussy of yours.”

A door slams in the background, then all he can hear is you panting heavily in his ear. But when you finally speak again, your voice sounds different. Less like his good girl, and more like someone who knows they hold all the power.

“Oh, poor baby,” you coo, catching him off guard. “Did I leave you alone too long?”

He can tell you’re mocking him but, for some reason, his resolve starts to slip away more and more with every violent throb of his cock. Maybe it’s desperation. Or maybe he just likes it.

“I’m so sorry,” you continue, murmuring sweetly in his ear. “I can make it all better…but only if you wait a little longer. Can you do that for me? Be my good boy.”

He bites back a groan, gripping the base of his cock hard to keep from cumming then and there. That's...new. And sexy as hell. He's still frenzied to the point of no return, but you also might've rewired something in his brain because he suddenly realizes he does want to be your good boy. Badly.

Fuck, he hopes you get home soon.

That last half hour of work was torture. You spent the entirety of it, and the car ride afterward, marinating in your soaked underwear, anticipating everything Joel has in store for you when you get home.

You're not sure what came over you on the phone, but it sounded like he enjoyed it. A lot. It’s a dynamic you’d never thought to try in your relationship, not with Joel’s domineering personality. The fact that he went along with it at all must mean he’s going through it, and that’s something you’re a little too excited to see.

The house is quiet when you walk in, save for the sound of your keys dropping into the bowl by the door. You turn to hang your bag on a nearby coat rack, and that's when you see him.

Joel, still lying on the couch exactly where you assume you left him after your call, with his hand squeezed tight around the base of his cock. He looks like a goddamn mess—sweating, hard as a rock, and leaking all over himself. His eyes are a little wild, more so than you've ever seen them. Christ, poor baby. You didn’t think your absence would affect him this much.

“Aw, sweet boy. Is all this for me?" you smile softly. He sucks in a breath, visibly twitching in his hand, and your smile widens. “Sit up, I can’t play with you like this.”

He complies immediately, and it sends a shiver up your spine. You love how well he’s listening, even though he almost looks like he's in pain after being in this state for so long. For that, you think he deserves a reward.

So, you give him one—the one he’s been waiting for all day. You undress for him, maintaining eye contact as you slip off your stuffy business attire, finally ridding yourself of your oppressively sticky underwear.

Dropping to your knees between his legs, you gaze up at him affectionately, mouth inches away from his drooling cock.

"Tell me what you want," you lean in, pressing your lips against the smooth, velvety skin. "Still wanna fuck me? Get me on my back, begging for it?"

Your tongue darts out to taste him, and you moan, licking a wide stripe up to wrap your lips around the tip. He's salty and heady, and so fucking delicious, but he still hasn't answered you. Instead, his fingers thread through your hair, guiding you down halfway and back up, shallowly fucking your mouth.

"I—fuck, please...," he's struggling with his words, whimpering around each syllable. "—baby, I waited...been good, did what ya said."

You nod your head understandingly, or at least try to as you continue to let him thrust into the inside of your cheek. His eyes are hyperfocused on the way your skin bulges around him, each stroke sending a shockwave of pleasure straight down his tightening balls.

"Christ, you feel good. Worth waitin' for, so fuckin' worth it," he rasps, his fingers tensing in your hair. "Need ya to—," he repositions your head so he can thrust further, deeper until he's nudging the back of your throat, "—ngh, make me cum. Suck harder, baby, please."

Soft, hiccuped moans escape his parted lips, increasing in volume when you start to drool around him, down your chin and onto your breasts. You can tell he's about to burst, feeling his skin growing taut against your tongue.

"M'gonna—haah, gonna...," desperation clouds his eyes, still dictating his every thought and move.

But you don't let him because that's not what he said he wanted earlier. He's allowed to buck into you a few more times before you pull off with a loud pop, and the needy, frustrated whine he lets out almost makes you reconsider. Almost.

"I'm gonna make you cum, I promise, but not with my mouth," you tell him, voice tinged with disappointment, wrecked from the force of taking him like that. "You were doing so well for me. Come down here, keep being my good boy and I'll make you feel good."

Plopping down on the carpet, you spread your legs so he can see how wet you are for him. It's only gotten worse since earlier, slick coating your thighs, shiny and all the more inviting. You lay back, trailing your fingers up your belly to your breast to tweak a nipple, sighing as you reach out to him with your other hand.

Again, he obeys, his desire to empty down your throat all but forgotten. His shirt is quickly discarded, followed by everything below his waist, and then he's shifting onto the floor between your legs.

"There's my sweet boy," you coo, running your hands up his chest through a smattering of coarse, dark curls, and it rumbles under your palms as he mewls sweetly at your praise.

He leans over you, hovering like he's waiting for permission to touch you, but he doesn't need it. The only thing you're trying to do is guide him, not control him. You want to make sure he gets exactly what he was so patient for.

"Wanna feel you, babygirl. Let me—," he amends what he was about to demand, "...can I touch you?"

You bite your lip nodding as you smile up at him, and he wastes no time dropping down to bury his face into the crook of your neck, sucking wetly as he presses his body flush against yours. You writhe underneath him, just as pent up as he is by now, the realization triggered by how incredible his naked body feels on top of you.

"Fuckin' hell, you're soft," he moans into your ear, propped up on his forearms. His cock brushes against your inner thigh, and his moan turns guttural, raw like it clawed its way out. "Mmph, I can't—"

He lurches up to crash his lips into yours, kissing you sloppily, hungrily, as his hips finally dip to drag against where you're soaked and aching. But not for nearly as long as he's been, and right now, he comes first. You need him to know he can have you. That he doesn't have to wait anymore.

"Don't...don't fight it. You've been perfect, you deserve it," you gasp out, and his hips jerk, your words forcing a low keen past his lips and into your mouth. "Take, baby. Take what you need."

Joel doesn't take, he seizes, laying claim to every part of you. Like he's afraid he won't get another chance if he doesn't take full advantage of what you've given him right now.

He faintly reminds you of a puppy lacking object permanence, believing the next time you leave, he'll be stuck waiting for you to come back to him forever. God, you're not even sure how you fucked him up so badly, but it's clear by the way he's handling you that he won't let you go again.

He moves quickly. One moment, he's leaning back on his heels, digging his fingers into your waist to yank you up onto his thighs, and the next, he's fucking into you as hard and fast as a bullet train. His cock somehow feels thicker, heavier than it ever has when he breaches your cunt, and the stretch has you clawing at the carpet beneath you.

"Missed you all day, wanted you all goddamn day," he growls, plowing into you forcefully enough to make your brain go fuzzy. "Fuck, babygirl, you got no idea what I've been through."

Christ, that feels—it feels...Christ. He's hitting something. You have no idea what, but it feels ungodly, like if he keeps going just like that, you'll cum without his fingers on you at all. It's happened before with Joel, but it's rare—and it's only when he's deep, lighting up all of your nerve endings at once. Fuck, he's being so good today.

"S'okay, you're okay," you gasp, clenching down around him when he suddenly pounds into the spot dead on. "I...I'm here now. Just keep going there, right there."

He nods frantically, gritting his teeth as you continue to tighten around him.

"Good boy," you mumble deliriously, your back arching completely off the ground as your orgasm rocks you.

"Shit, you—'m not touchin'...fuck, baby, you cummin'?"

It hits him all at once, what's happening, and then he's cumming, too. He's loud through his entire release, alternating between drawn-out moans and hiccuped whimpers as he fills you up with a whole day's worth of pent-up frustration.

Thrusting until your aftershocks have subsided, he grinds in deep one last time, letting you milk him completely dry before he pulls out. You're boneless underneath him, your eyes glazed over while his are finally clear for the first time in almost ten hours.

He lowers your body onto the floor and crawls over next you, pulling your body against his. His embrace is warm and pleasant, and enough to pull you out of your post-orgasm stupor. Wriggling in his arms to get more comfortable, you tilt your head back from where he'd tucked it under his chin to grin up at him.

"So you missed me, huh?"

He rolls his eyes, back to his usual, not-totally-depraved self, but you already know the answer. He just spent the last hour showing you exactly how much.

"Thought I already made that clear," he confirms gruffly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Next time, could ya maybe just use your vacation days? Please?"

"Sure," you laugh, nuzzling into his neck. "I'll save them up just for you."

You reach up to scratch your fingernails across his beard, your other hand petting the soft curls at the nape of his neck. A soft noise rumbles low in his chest, but he tries to play it off by clearing his throat. Playfully raising an eyebrow, you continue your ministrations and it happens again.

"Baby, quit, 'm not a dog," he deadpans, even as he leans into your touch, his body betraying him.

"You sure about that? Because you sure were needy like one today."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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hannieehaee · 5 months

Text

18+ / mdi

content: thor au, mingyu has superhuman strength (he's literally a god so), mingyu's kinda a dick, re-imagined plot of the first thor movie for fanfic purposes, mentions of movie characters, afab reader, smut, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2203

a/n: thor was my favorite marvel movie growing up so i loved doing this!!! tysm to the person who requested this and im soooo sorry it took me so long T-T also i havent watched the movies in forever so im so sorry for inaccuracies </3

masterlist

mingyu wasnt too sure where he was.

just moments ago he had been fighting with his younger brother, loki, scolding him over yet another mischievous act, but now he was in the middle of nowhere. well, at least that was going off of his surroundings. in the distance, he could see various signs detailing the foreign words 'new mexico'.

he had just been wandering aimlessly around the desert, not paying too much attention to his surroundings as he tried to make sense of where he was. that was until his entire body was pushed forward by a massive object, making him lose most of his ability to process what just had happened. he was only slightly lucid as he laid limp on the ground, barely processing the girl looking down on him, completely freaked out at having just ran over a man in the middle of nowhere. without putting much of a fight, he allowed you and your friend to struggle your way as you dragged him into the back of your van, probably not wanting to leave any evidence that you'd almost committed homicide.

unfortunately for you both, he passed out quickly after that, not allowing you to confirm any information about him, nor giving you a chance to stumble your way through an apology for almost killing him.

seeing as you almost cost him his life, you decided to bring him to your laboratory, where you would let him rest until he was conscious enough for you to find a way to make it up to him. your friend darcy left you on your own, claiming it wasn't much of her problem since you had been the one driving when you crashed into him.

as you waited for him to wake up, you wondered how and why he had survived your van crashing into him. i mean, he didn't sustain any injuries, simply passing out from the impact. he had even left damage on the van itself upon the crash. looking at him, you realized he was very fit, with muscles bulging from the strange armor he had on. you hadn't questioned any of this until now, being mostly freaked out by almost killing him, but it was all now making you wonder the logistics of the situation.

you didn't have too much time to think, as he began to stir, groaning a bit before actually waking up. he jumped in place upon realizing he was in unfamiliar surroundings, staring at you with wide eyes as he backed away a bit.

"hey-"

"you! who are you? where am i?"

"listen, you might be a bit disoriented after the accident, you're in-"

"new mexico? right? i saw a sign earlier today."

"yeah, it's-"

"okay, but where is new mexico? i need to get back to asgard. how can i manage that?"

"asgard? listen, you must be going through a psychic episode, just let me-"

"stay away! i demand you tell me where i am!"

jesus christ, this man was stubborn. not once sentence could leave your lips before he was making demands. he didn't even give you a chance to apologize either. you weren't sure what he meant by his blabbering, which was still going on by now. asgard? was he hallucinating about norse mythology? had you rendered this man insane?

"we're in new mexico! right by texas? are you okay? you seem kind of disoriented. i'm so sorry about what happened, i-"

"my armor! you damaged it with your machine!", he finally looked down at the scratches and missing bits of his armor, eyes widening once more.

he got up from his spot, marching around your laboratory and grabbing at things with curiosity. he eventually came across your globe, reading out the label before gasping loudly.

"earth?! loki told me of this place. that means you're a human," he was mostly speaking to himself before turning to finally direct himself at you, "human. i am mingyu, the god of thunder. you must help me get back to asgard. can you do that?"

you were speechless throughout his entire ransacking of your lab, but even more so now. was this an insane man you were with in the middle of the desert? you had brought him to your secluded lab out of remorse for what you'd done, but now you were alone in the middle of the night with a maniac. a very strong one at that.

"don't look at me like that," he interrupted your thoughts, "i know im not the god your people typically serve, but i still demand your help. you did hit me, after all."

that broke you out of your spell, your niceness peaking out again, "i'm sorry! i-"

"great! so now you're indebted to me," he clapped his hands together, "how shall we begin?"

okay, there was no way you were helping this maniac with his senseless plan, but you needed to think of a sensible way to tell him to fuck off.

"you're mingyu? the god of thunder? why are you reciting norse mythology to me? i cant get you back to asgard. it doesnt exist," okay, not subtle, but it was a start.

"listen, human. your kind would not understand the depth behind my people. you don't believe me? i'll show you."

and with that, he raised his arm, erected and facing to his side as he stared at you directly into your eyes. he stayed like this for a minute before you chose to question him, only to be shushed by him once more, "just give it a minute, human."

it was about three minutes when suddenly a hammer came crashing through the wall, destroying everything in its way in order to arrive to mingyu's hand.

next thing you knew, you were hiding under your table, utterly terrified at whatever the fuck was happening. was he really the mingyu? but those were all a child's tale, were they not? did you truly have a god standing before you, trying to convince you to come out from hiding?

"human, i- im sorry. i shouldve warned you. come out, please? i'll even forgive you for crashing into me. i just need some help," he sounded so defeated, you couldn't help but feel sorry for him, deciding to come out from hiding as long as he put his hammer down, something to which he agreed to with no hesitation.

"o-okay, mingyu. are you- you're real? shit, okay, never mind. you clearly are. but how can i help you? i'm not a god, h-how am i supposed to help you go back home?"

"there's always a way, human. we just need to find an opening. you see ..." he proceeded to explain his entire plan to you, sounding way more intelligent than he had shown himself to be throughout every interaction you'd had with him so far. he was also standing. very. close. it was hard to pay attention when the damage of his suit allowed you such a perfect view at his gigantic muscles. but you needed to focus! you owed it to him to at least try to help him.

the plan had been settled soon after that, agreeing that tomorrow you'd use your 'machine' (re: car) to drive him to a specific spot in which he'd be able to gather enough energy to summon lightning from the sky, which would render him powerful enough to communicate with gandall, who would take him back to asgard. it was too much for the regular person to process, but luckily for him, the person who almost ran him over was a scientist who was very well read on norse mythology.

after that, you had told him he could hit a shower, located in the habitable part of the lab in which you'd stay at sometimes. you let him know you two should also catch some sleep before tomorrow. you offered up your bed, claiming you'd take the couch since you'd caused him all this trouble anyway. he agreed with no argument, making you frown a little at his lack of gallantry.

he came out of the shower soon after, all while you sat on the couch occupied by a book. you heard his arrival, but didn't pay him much mind until doing a double take on him, realizing he was stark naked, with every glorious inch of skin in full display.

"jesus christ! what the hell are you doing?!", you covered your face with your book, extremely flustered at the sight. how was he so bi-

"what? is there no nudity on earth?", he sat on the couch, way too close to you.

"yes! but not like this! you're supposed to warn me beforehand. i-"

"why won't you look at me, human? uncover your face at once."

you weren't sure why, but you followed his direction, removing the book from your face but keeping your eyes closed.

"eyes open too."

you opened them, looking up as to avoid staring at his nether area. although you weren't looking at him, you could tell he had moved to sit even closer, making you anxious about what he'd do next.

"look at me."

you looked down to find him staring directly at you, face at only a few inches from yours. you couldn't help it when your eyes lowered to his lips, noticing him mirror your actions.

"this?" he whispered, "this is what you want?"

it was an ominous and unclear statement, but you still found yourself nodding, too full of a sudden surge of lust to think properly.

he attacked you with his lips, using full force immediately upon kissing you. he was very intense with his movements, almost immediately pinning you down on the couch, an easy feat for a god with his superhuman strength.

you couldn't help how wet you grew almost immediately, having taken a peak at his massive length when he had first approached you on the couch. was he going to put that in you? you were kinda terrified, but also giddy to feel the insane stretch he was about to give you.

you kept keening against him, softly moaning into his lips as he ground his hips against your own, making him groan in return.

"gods, human. you're so fragile ... so delicate. i'm gonna- gonna break you," it sounded like dirty talk, but there was some genuine concert laced in his tone.

"do it! please ... please fuck me," all dignity had left you the moment you saw him in all his naked glory, so any begging was fair game to you by now.

he chuckled, "yeah? pretty princess wants me to fuck her? think you can take it?", he was quite literally dangling his dick in front of your eyes, hands ripping your shorts out of the way as you gasped at the act.

"sorry, princess," he coo'd condescendingly, "they were getting in my way."

he didnt bother to check whether you were wet enough or not before plunging into you, but you had fortunately been dripping for him by then. still, his massive size had you writhing under him, screaming his name to anyone who could hear you from your secluded location.

"oh? now you pray my name? fuck, beautiful human. didn't know humans could be so pretty ..." he was growing delirious at the tightness of your cunt, combined with your much smaller frame. all women in asgard were as big and built as him. this was his first time experiencing anything like this, and it had him rethinking his return to asgard.

'g-gyu ... shit. i'm gonna cum, please!'

he folded you like a pretzel, not caring to conceal his inhuman strength as he pounded madly into you, feeding off your gasps and squeals. you were making him see valhalla.

"pretty princess ... cum for me. let me have yours and i'll give you mine- shit! gonna breed you. gonna come back here and take care of you every time im lonely. g-gonna keep you all to myself. my pretty secret on earth."

the idea of mingyu popping by to fuck you whenever the literal heaven that was asgard became too boring for him had you keening, now grateful you had ran him over as your orgasm attacked you unexpectedly.

you had never felt such a high, almost feeling like you had astral-projected into heaven. mingyu seemed to be in a similar situation, groaning against your mouth as he filled you up with his endless seed. seemed like he was well-endowed in all areas, being a god and all.

"fuck ... thank you for that, human," he thanked you as he got up, at least having the courtesy of helping you clean up, "now i feel kinda bad about leaving."

"then dont," you werent sure why you said that. maybe the high of your orgasm.

"yeah?", he smirked, nearing you once again, "convince me," you noticed his hardness was already back, at a literally inhuman speed.

you weren't sure how you were meant to take him again with no rest in between, but you were willing to take the challenge. you'd worry about how to get the god back to his home tomorrow. for now, you were going to enjoy him while you had him.

a/n: before anyone comes for me, I KNOW this isnt very inaccurate for thor (ive watched the movies too many times) but i wanted to write a short smutty blurb and not go off with too many words so this is what we ended up with

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu scenario #mingyu imagines #mingyu fanfic #mingyu smut #mingyu oneshot #mingyu x reader

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kissitbttr · 16 days

Note

Can we see some jealous and protective frat!miguel 🙏🏻🙏🏻

miguel is cocky. and he never admits himself of being jealous. why would he when he knows that no one is able to one up to him in any way?

but you beg to differ. always seeming to point out his expression when a guy gets too close to you, burning holes in the back of the stranger’s head. somehow plotting the most gruesome and murderous plot he has in mind.

“shit, shit, o’hara! lay off the grip man! you’re going to break the damn glass!”

miguel hears one of his teammates, groans. snatching the cup from miguel’s hand and not even bothering to hear his protests.

“what—oh, my bad” he lamely responds, gaze returning back to watch you. his girlfriend, laughing at some lame joke being told by a guy in front of you.

he feels betrayed. how could you do this to him?!

“the healthiest way to cope with jealousy is to communicate with your girlfriend, o’hara—healthiest” carlos rolls his eyes at the chocolate haired man who seems to not be listening to a word he says. “but shit, knowing you? chances of a hot giant meteor hitting us right now is far bigger”

“mind your shit, man” miguel frowns deepening at the sight of that fucker checking you out in your outfit,

you’re sexy. there’s no doubt about that. especially in that cheerleading uniform you’re wearing when you just got off the practice.

there is a reason why guys are lining up to be your boyfriend before you and miguel started dating. other than because being extremely beautiful and sickeningly sweet, you have a way of staring into people’s eyes like you’re about to pluck a soul out of them and them not having a problem with it.

i mean, jesus, you got him hooked didn’t you?

“so let’s say he did try to take her home or—“

“didn’t i tell you to mind your shit?!” miguel cuts carlos off with a grumble, not even wanting to imagine if you were getting taken home by another man. not that you’d let them anyway. you’re too crazy about miguel and vice versa,

the buzzcut kid raises his hands up in defense, as if to prove his innocence. “don’t get mad at me for speaking up facts!” with that, he bolts out of the way before miguel could get to him,

it’s not like miguel is one crazy and possessive boyfriend who prefers having his girl all to himself (despite him wanting her to), he still gives access to whomever you want to speak with.

but he just despises the fact that everyone is crushing on his girl. she’s his and his only. so seeing another man getting far too comfortable in invading your space, making you laugh and shit just stirs something within him.

miguel slowly makes his way towards you and the punk, fists clenching by the side. he hears your beautiful laugh one more time and holy hell, he feels like he’s going insane knowing you’re not laughing because of him.

“so was that the one professor who had his—oh!—what the—? baby! you found my tickle spot!” you giggle as you jump a little out of surprise, head craning over your shoulder to see your big and tall boyfriend wrapping his arms around your waist and pull you closer to his chest. “did you had the drinks yet?”

“mhm, a few” he kisses the corner of your mouth, eyes looking straight to the boy in front of you as if showing him off that you’re taken. “missed you, muñeca”

“you saw me like two hours ago, you big baby” a giggle escapes your mouth when you see him pout, kissing it. “oh! this aaron, by the way. i don’t think the two of you have met!”

aaron shoots miguel a toothy grin and a wave, in which miguel doesn’t mirror both actions. only simply glaring at him. “nice party you got going on here, man”

“thanks” miguel nods in acknowledgement, simply not entertaining the man with more than two words. because that’s what you get for hitting on his girl!

“it’s so crowded here though, thankfully she saw me looking scared and shit. saved me from getting swarmed” aaron laughs making you laugh as well and miguel’s grip tighten around you. “she’s definitely a keeper”

that comment somehow irks him a bit. “yeah, that’s why she’s my girlfriend. and i’m the boyfriend, y’know—in case you’re wondering” miguel’s hands wander lower to your hips, settling it there,

the response seems weird to you, making you shoot him a look with your eyebrow raising in which miguel ignores,

“i can definitely see that, big guy” aaron chuckles, not seemingly bothered by it. “if i had a girl like her, i think i’d be keeping her to myself far too much”

miguel’s jaw clenches at that, and it seems to pisses him even more when you decide to just laugh and not tell this aaron man off for saying that,

“you’re just saying thaaat” a blush creeps into your cheeks, holding onto miguel’s arms before your eyes widen. “oh! i forgot to mention! i brought fruit punch earlier! aaron you must have a taste, i’ll bring a cup for you. and you too” your turn around and smile at miguel, kissing his lips before muttering ‘be right back’

‘ah perfect, time to grill this motherfucker’ miguel smirks before watching you walk away,

his arms crossed, eyes looking down at the shorter guy who seems oblivious of what’s happening,

“so uh, you and—“

“look man, i don’t know what your deal is—but y/n is fucking mine” miguel cuts to the chase, eyes deepening into a frown. “and i don’t appreciate you’re hitting on my girl, looking at her legs and touching her skirt. just because she doesn’t tell you off that doesn’t mean it’s appropriate! you know she’s taken right?”

aaron raises both brows, eyes glancing left and right in confusion. “uhm, yes?”

“so back off then will you?! i worked my ass off trying to get her be my girlfriend, had to compete with other guys from soccer team and faculties, memorized her schedules and—shit, i promise her that i’ll tone down with this jealousy shit because she doesn’t like it when i get into a fist fight over her. so do me a favor, if you don’t like getting punched right now, leave me and my girl alone or i fucking swear—“

“jesus, man—i’m gay!”

and miguel immediately clamps up at that, eyes widening at the sudden burst from aaron but only enough for the two of them to hear,

“wait, what?!”

“i’m gay, dude” aaron laughs, amused by the expression miguel is putting on right now. “100% not into girls”

“oh..” miguel gets a bit quiet after, not knowing what to say next. shit. this is awkward. “i didn’t know that—you don’t look like one..”

“jeez, sorry if I don’t fit into the stereotype. i’ll put on my knitted rainbow scarf next time i stop by. want me to pierce my right ear too?”

“oh shit, that’s not what i meant! fuck—sorry man, i—“ miguel stutters. the last thing he wants to do is to make a gay person offended. he doesn’t know what to do in this situation. “i mean—why didn’t you start with that?!”

aaron laughs, shaking his head. “don’t sweat it—and uh, was just cute how you get all protective and shit over your girl. i can definitely see why you’re like that” he shrugs, looking over at you who’s laughing with couple of miguel’s frat brothers,

miguel smiles, looking over to see you by the drinks. heart swelling at the sight of his girlfriend being comfortable with glen and carlos. almost laughing to himself when you spill a bit of your drink onto carlos’s shirt making him pout.

“no offense, but i’d tap your girlfriend if i was into girls” aaron says, nudging him with his elbow.

miguel’s head turns around to look back at him in quick motion, one eyebrow raising at the comment.

“no offense back, but you sure you’re 100% gay?!”

#frat!miguel

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woodenanemone · 2 months

Text

your eyes fluttered open, the sudden feeling of warmth above you waking you from your sleep.

you open your eyes to see choso above you, his arms framing your head, pulling back from his kiss on your forehead. your eyes squinted from the light streaming in the room, reflecting on his face that softly smiled down at you. he looked like the sweetest angel, but you could barely appreciate it through the fogginess of your post rested state.

“good morning. I’m sorry to wake you, but I really couldn’t wait to see you.” he apologized softly, his hand coming up brush your cheek. you sighed at the contact, feeling yourself growing more awake as the time passed. “good morning, choso. it’s alright, I should be up anyways.” you groggily responded while sitting up, causing him to shift, now sitting by your knees. “happy valentines day.” he smiled warmly. you smiled back, now remembering that this is his first valentines with a lover, and you started to understand his eagerness to spend the morning with you. you wished him the same, stretching and yawning. choso rested his hand on your cheek once more, and you blink in surprise at the sudden seriousness in his expression.

“in truth, today means nothing to me.”

you flinch at the bluntness of his words. “Um—?”

"please, don’t mistake my dismissal of this holiday for dismissal of our love. I mean it in the way that…,” he paused for a second, his eyes drifting down to your lap, thinking. “I’d be sickened with myself if my affection for you couldn’t even transcend the 14th of february. no teddy bear, no hallmark card, no rose in the world could ever even begin to show my adoration for you. The love I feel can't be boxed and tied up with a bow, and gifted to you on a single date of the year. Even 365 days is not virtually enough time to give you the feelings I have. my love for you is boundless, vaster than any sky, and deeper than any ocean.”

your mouth opened, then closed again. he just made that up on the spot? and really… how does he expect you to respond when he gets like this? “ocean’s can only go so deep, choso.” you teased, holding his chin. and with that, his face morphed into the sweetest smile you’ve had the pleasure of seeing, his tone sincere.

“I’d claw at the oceans floors until my fingers bled. and then I’d keep digging, into the very depths of hell, to expands its depths. but even then… the distance couldn’t hold an iota of what I feel for you.” and he meant that.

“I love you, and I wish I could tell you how much I love you. but there aren’t enough words in the world to say it, no language eloquent or evocative enough to ever even begin to convey just how I feel looking into your eyes. the eyes which… could make even the mute, inanimate moon tell all her secrets to. in all honesty, I’m so scared that if any man in passing meets this terrifying gaze, he too will fall into insanity, like I have.”

“how do you even come up with this stuff?” you say exasperatedly, shaking your head at your lack of a better response. he shrugged. “even an illiterate man could recite words of Shakespeare in grand verse, if he were only so lucky to have the privilege of seeing your smile.”

“...it’s 9 in the morning. please, at least give my heart the chance of getting through breakfast.”

ngl i kinda hate this but i cant come up with anything better rn..

i wish you all a happy valentines day, i hope you find nothing but love and adoration !

#choso #choso fluff #choso kamo #choso kamo fluff #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x reader fluff #choso x reader #choso x reader fluff #jjk #jjk fluff #kamo choso x reader fluff #kamo choso fluff #kamo choso x reader #kamo choso #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen choso

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heavcnslyre · 9 months

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chapter two - j.f. ( masterlist )

CRUEL SUMMER.

“fever dream high in the quiet of the night,

you know that i caught it.”

“mind setting the table for me sweetheart?” susannah asks you as you enter the kitchen, freshly changed out of your wet clothes into a swimsuit with flowy shorts and a hoodie over it. you nod and take the plates from her.

“smells good,” you comment, walking past her. “what are you making?”

“garlic parmesan pasta,” she grins. “chicken on the side, too.”

you grin. you always loved susannah’s cooking. laurel never cooked much, which you didn’t blame her for, but you really cherished susannah’s home cooked meals. every summer you made sure you spent a lot of time in the kitchen with her, eager to learn. it was also the best chance you got to bond with her. you have always known that she loves you, of course, but you could also always tell that belly was her favorite. she was the baby of the five of you, which automatically gave her more attention from the moms. also, she spent almost all of her time with them most summers, while you went and hung out with the boys. you didn’t mind, really, but it was sometimes frustrating to see how clearly they favored your little sister over you.

“everyone!” laurel yells up the stairs, “dinners ready!”

there’s a herd of footsteps as the boys come clambering down the stairs, taking their spots at the table. “where belly?” laurel asks. you look towards the glass doors facing the pool and see belly sitting outside, looking out towards the beach. “i’ll get her.”

as soon as you open the door, belly jumps and turns to you. she relaxes when she sees that it’s you and smiles. “hey.”

“hi bells,” you say. “dinners ready. you okay?”

she nods. “yeah, yeah. just thinking. you know.” she exchanges a knowing look with you, and you nod. you really did know. she was thinking about conrad. for as long as you could remember, belly had the biggest crush on conrad, and it always came into full bloom during the summer, not unlike your feelings for jeremiah. you were alike in that way, and there was always unspoken knowledge between the two of you, both of you knowing how the other felt yet rarely discussing it. the sister bond you shared made that easier.

“what’s for dinner?” belly asks, standing from her chair and breaking your train of thought. you open the door for her.

“pasta and chicken.”

“yum!”

after dinner, you excused yourself up to your bedroom to unpack and settle in. after a few hours, which somehow went from you unpacking to completely rearranging your room, there was a knock on your door. “come in!”

“what are you doing?” jeremiah asks, standing in your doorframe with an amused expression on his face. you look around your messy room then shrug.

“rearranging.”

he laughs and shakes his head at you. “you’re insane. ready for a break in your interior design?”

“only if that means it’s beach time.”

“of course that means it’s beach time,” he laughs as you immediately take off your hoodie that was covering your swimsuit and walk past him, out the door.

“let’s go then!”

jeremiah follows you down the stairs, and you smile as you pass by the moms, who were sitting on the couch with belly, watching a movie. “off to the beach?” laurel asks. you nod.

“yup! be back soon.”

susannah blows you both a kiss, “be safe!”

“we will!” you and jeremiah both call out, already out the door. a few minutes later, the two of you were sitting in the sand of the dark beach, listening to the waves crash in front of you.

“best thing and worst thing from your year, go,” jeremiah says suddenly, breaking the peaceful silence the two of you had been sharing. you consider his question for a minute before answering.

“best thing… got my license! me and belly actually went on a whole day trip to the shops that are a couple hours away, it was super fun,” you say. jeremiah grins.

“licensed! can’t wait to be a passenger princess all summer!” you laugh and shove his arm lightly.

“don’t act like you don’t have your license,” you say. “i fully except you to be driving me around all the time too.”

he nods. “maybe. worst thing, now.”

you shrug. “i don’t know. it was a pretty good year. i guess maybe breaking my wrist in the fall.”

“yeah, no shit that would suck!” jeremiah exclaims. “why didn’t you tell me you did?”

“i don’t know,” you say honestly. “i guess it just didn’t come up.”

“just didn’t come up in the hundreds of texts and facetime calls,” jeremiah shakes his head. “i see how it is.”

you laugh and so does he, then you find yourself in silence again. he was staring forward into the water but you turned your head and stared at him, picking up on every feature of his. his eyes sparkled, reflecting the moonlight. his whole face was soft, relaxed, and you loved seeing him like this. he was always putting on a show, trying to entertain the world around him, but in moments like this when it was just the two of you, he was more vulnerable. you loved it. you hate that you have to keep reminding yourself that you’re with peter now, and happy, so you can’t think of jeremiah like that anymore.

you clear your throat to break the silence. “your turn. best and worst of the year.”

“oh, that’s easy,” he says, meeting your gaze. “best was when i got moved up to varsity football this past season. got to play with connie. it was incredible.”

“jere!” you exclaim, “that’s amazing! forget my damn wrist, you could’ve told me that earlier!”

“i was kinda caught up in it,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “that’s why i never really could call you during the football season. let it get to my head pretty bad, but it was okay in the end.”

“no shame in being proud of yourself for something great,” you assure him. “we just gotta get better at updating each other on the big things in our lives, not just the little random things.”

“you mean i shouldn’t just call you to tell you i saw a taylor swift lookalike at chipotle?”

“oh, no,” you say. “you totally still need to tell me that. but like, mention the other life changing things too.”

“deal,” jeremiah says, smiling as you catch his gaze. his expression was always soft when he looked at you. you would never let yourself admit it, but you had never seen him look at anyone else the same way before. you didn’t want to start thinking that, though. it would get your hopes up too much. but it didn’t even matter now. peter.

“worst thing?” you ask. he sighs.

“i guess when conrad quit the football team.”

your eyes widen. “what?! why?”

he shakes his head, suddenly defeated. his whole demeanor changed, and it was clear that this was really weighing down on him. “i don’t know. i wish i knew. he’s just been so…different, lately. we used to hang out and he was so excited for me to be on the team with him. then it’s like a flip switched. suddenly he’s so cold to me, like, always. wont even look at a football. didn’t come to a single one of my games after he quit— which was mid season, did i mention? he barely even talks to me or mom anymore. seeing you guys today was the happiest i’ve seen him in forever.”

“oh, jere,” you say softly, studying his expression. you had noticed a change in conrad today, too, but you didn’t know if it was in your head or not. he had seemed so happy around belly, or laurel, but otherwise he was more closed off than usual. you couldn’t imagine what jeremiah was feeling, having to watch his best friend drift away from him like that. “have you talked to him about it?”

he shrugs. “he won’t ever say anything. acts like nothing is wrong with him. i don’t know. i just feel terrible for mom. she’s so, lost, i guess. like, when she was sick, he was kinda the rock in the family. he’s always been the most levelheaded. losing that support…i don’t know. it’s weird. i’m trying to be better at stuff like that for her, but i’m not conrad. i can’t be as good as him.”

“that’s one thing you can’t start believing, that you’re not good enough,” you say. “you’re both just as important to your family as the other. just because he handles different things as you doesn’t mean that he’s better. with the other stuff…i don’t know, jere. he’s levelheaded, yeah, but he’s also crazy stubborn. when he’s caught up in his head about something there’s no getting him out.”

“don’t i know it,” he grumbles. then, he shakes his head and looks at you, a calmer expression on his face. “thank you, (y/n). conrad is too complicated to figure out usually. i really appreciate you listening,” he grabs your hand. “i’ve missed you so much. just talking about that makes me feel better.”

you squeeze his hand. “of course. you know you can always talk to me.”

your silence this time is broken by your phone buzzing. then buzzing again. and again. you sigh. “sorry, thought i silenced this.”

pulling out your phone, you see that the texts are from peter.

peter: (y/n) :((

peter: u promised to call me every night at 10

peter: what are u doing???

“oh shit,” you mumble, pulling your hand away from jeremiah to text back. he looks at you, concerned.

“is everything okay? who is it?”

you nod. “it’s um, peter.”

“peter?” he asks. “who’s peter?”

“my,” you hesitate, still staring at your phone. “my uh, boyfriend.”

jeremiah visibly stiffens, moving slightly away from you. “boyfriend, huh?” his tone is no longer warm. his voice is strained, and he stares out into the water. “didn’t mention that in the best thing from your year. or in any of our facetimes, or texts.”

“it’s fairly new,” you explain, still attempting to avoid looking at him. the air between you two felt weird, suddenly. less comfortable. “um, i was gonna mention it at some point tonight. i just was waiting to see how it went with him.”

“yeah.”

with that, jeremiah suddenly stands up and stretches. “i could really go for a swim,” he looks down at you, a forced smile on his face. “i am really happy for you, (y/n). c’mon, come swim.”

but he didn’t wait for you to follow him. he turned away quickly and took big steps towards the water. as soon as he was in it deep enough, he dove under a wave, staying under the water for a concerning amount of time, before coming up for air, and doing it again. you sigh. you weren’t sure what that was about, but you weren’t about to make it worse. you quickly text peter back, then turn off your phone, following jeremiah into the ocean.

you: got caught up sry call u later

#jeremiah fisher #tsitp #tsitpbookseries #tsitp conrad #tsitp belly #tsitp jeremiah #tsitp cast #tsitp spoilers #tsitp s2 #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah fisher x y/n #jeremiah fisher x reader #belly conklin #steven conklin #conrad fisher #the summer i turned pretty #bria j.f updates

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our-happygirl500-fan · 1 year

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The Raph & Casey friendship is a classic dynamic within the many iterations of TMNT but unfortunately due to Rise not getting a season 3 we never got to see the Rise Raph & Casey dynamic after Foot Recruit was revealed to be the Rise version of Casey Jones in the final episode of season 2.

However the small interactions that Raph & Casey do have in Rise gives some insight to what their friendship might have looked like

Raph: Come on!

There are a few times where Raph faces Casey as an enemy back when Casey was still part of the Foot Clan but the one on one interactions that Casey & Raph have even as enemies are kind of fun as they seem to bring out the sillier sides of each other.

In the episode Insane in the Mama Train when Raph & Casey face off against each other they both try to get the other to make the first move which leads to them both flapping their hands at each other for a few minutes.

Eventually Raph decides to get back to the mission but the fact a few minutes alone with Casey made Raph slightly break out of the ‘serious Hamato mind set’ that the Turtles were in during the episode & the fact that Casey looks like she’s having fun trying to goad Raph into making the first move, shows that Raph & Casey bring out the less serious sides of each other.

Raph: Get away from me!

The trend of Raph & Casey bringing out each others less serious sides isn’t just found in one episode, in the episode How to Make Enemies and Bend People to Your Will, Raph & Casey also have a silly moment where Casey gets covered in the juice of a corpse flower & chases Raph around in circles

Raph: I only do that because you guys are irresponsible

Even though all the Rise Turtles get chances to be silly & act like the teenagers that they are, Raph often has to be the responsible on of the group due to being the oldest of the brothers & the fact that he was the leader for most of the series.

The fact that Casey seems to bring out Raph’s less serious side even during serious moments despite being an enemy means that now that Casey is a friend of the Hamato clan, the intended Raph & Casey friendship that we might have seen in Rise could have been Casey giving Raph more opportunity to relax & have fun for himself.

The fact that Leo has stepped up as a leader & is taking some of the burden of leadership that Raph had to carry for most of the series also seems to encourage the idea, that Raph might have had a character arc in season 3 where he learned how to have more fun for himself without having to worry about being responsible for his brothers all the time & Casey who seems to bring out Raph’s sillier side might have become a friend that Raph was comfortable having fun & goofing off with.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #raphael hamato #casey jones #cassandra jones #rottmnt #tmnt

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hunny-bean · 10 months

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Sugar & Spice

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank likes you best in blue. Happy Anniversary!

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex (M & F Recieving), Fingering, Unprotected P in V, Obnoxiously Fluffy at Times, Lingerie, Teasing, Light Bondage, Kinda Mean Frank, Sub Reader. Ok, I think that's it! Let me know if I missed one.

A/N: Needless to say, I'm expanding my comfort zone. I added a splash of mechanic!frank because he's a guilty pleasure of mine. Sorry if he's a little OOC, it's hard to imagine Frank untraumatized and in a happy relationship. Anyway, I hope this turned out alright. Enjoy! Let me know what you think! XOXO.

P.S. I'm open to requests, if you've got any cool ideas! I love writing, but I have experienced writer's block many times before, so I may need a little assistance at some point. I'll write for any Jon Bernthal character as well as a plethora of others that I don't have time to list. If you want to ask for another character, just take a gamble and I'll let you know if I can do it! Also, nothing immoral or illegal, please. Sorry for the insanely long author's note.

You may proceed :)

Read on AO3

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

'Curse this stupid lighting,' you thought, examining your makeup in the floor-length mirror. The dim yellow light bulb in Frank's walk-in closet was seriously throwing off your perception of colors. For example, you were pretty sure your blush was looking natural and sweet, but there was always that slim chance you would look like a clown in a different room.

You were tragically forced into the closet by the sound of Frank's keys rattling in the lock. Before that, you had been enjoying the luxury of a bathroom counter. Unfortunately, Frank only had one toilet and you figured he might need it, so you grabbed your bag and sprinted to the closet the second he opened the door. Under no circumstances would you let Frank catch even the slightest glimpse of you. At least, not until you were finished getting ready. You were planning a surprise, after all.

When Frank finally got home, he instantly knew something was off. Usually, when you spent the night with him (which was most nights), you'd come meet him at the door whenever he finished up at the garage. You'd slide through the kitchen in your fuzzy socks to give him a hug and a kiss and ask how his day was. It had become such a routine for the two of you, that when it didn't happen, his first thought was that you weren't there at all.

Frank pulled his boots off and hung up his jacket before wandering into the kitchen to see if you had left a note. Maybe your roommate had another "crisis," he thought, or you had to make a quick run to the grocery store. Finding nothing, he grew slightly concerned. It was very unlike you to just take off without so much as a text explaining why.

Then, Frank heard a faint rustling noise coming from the bedroom. He smiled softly, all of his previous worries evaporating as he went down the hall to see what you were up to. You were probably just taking a nap, he thought, but when he got to the bedroom, you were still nowhere to be found. Frank was just about to try calling you when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the light on under the closet door.

"Hey, baby. You in there?" he asked, knocking gently.

"Be out in a minute!" you called back, fluffing your curls that you barely got done before he showed up.

"Whatcha doin' in the closet?" Frank asked, and even through the door you could hear the amusement in his voice.

"It's a surprise," you replied deviously.

"Come on, darlin', you know I hate surprises," Frank griped.

"You'll like this one, I promise," you proclaimed. "Just be patient."

Frank sighed dramatically. "I wanna see you," he grumbled. Smiling, you meticulously straightened the bow you added to pin two small sections of your hair behind your head.

"Oh, trust me," you muttered. "You will."

Taking a step back, you admired your full body in the mirror. You had bought this underwear set a while ago, and were just waiting for the right occasion to use it. It was a beautiful baby blue color, and it hugged your body perfectly. The bra was a short, sheer corset top that showcased your cleavage without being too obnoxious. The panties were soft and lacy, pulled up high in the sides to accentuate your hips. They weren't quite a thong, but they certainly came close. Decorating both pieces were small embroidered cornflowers that made you feel pretty and delicate. On top of it all was an elegant lace robe that you somehow managed to find in the exact same color. It was almost completely see-through and it barely brushed your mid thigh, so you weren't worried about it obscuring any of your best assets.

You looked good. There was no denying that. In fact, you couldn't think of a time you'd ever looked better. You just hoped Frank's heart was strong enough to withstand the sight of you.

Quickly, you added your finishing touches, brushing on your favorite lip gloss and putting in a pair of dainty diamond earrings that Frank got you for Valentine's Day that year. You gave yourself one more once-over in the mirror. Everything was perfect. At long last, you were ready to execute your master plan.

You were a little nervous, but what you were about to pull off wouldn't work if you let it show, even just a little bit. With that in mind, you took a few deep breaths and rolled your shoulders back. Holding your head up high, you slowly opened the closet door.

When you stepped out into the bedroom, you found Frank laying on top of the covers with his arms positioned behind his head and one leg propped up. He was barely doing anything, and still he was the picture of dominance. Even while wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, he looked incredible. In fact, just seeing him was enough to have you fantasizing about crawling on top of him and hiding your face in his chest. But alas, you could not. You had to stay strong.

As soon as Frank saw you, his eyes lit up like a little kid's on Christmas morning. He immediately sat up straight, looking utterly dazzled. It seemed you were right. This was one surprise he could get behind.

"Do you like it?" you asked beguilingly. You gave him a small spin, showing off all the intricate details.

"That's the stupidest question you've ever asked, sweetheart," Frank replied, rising to meet you across the room. "You're a fuckin' angel."

He pulled you in by your waist to leave a soft peck on your lips. Seeing his mouth shine with your lip gloss when he pulled away made your heart skip a beat. You weren't always a possessive person, but that changed when you discovered what it felt like to leave your mark on someone. Especially someone as desirable as Frank Castle.

"Happy anniversary, baby," Frank drawled sweetly.

"Happy anniversary." You were sure you were smiling like an idiot, but you couldn't help it. You and Frank had been together for four years now, and it felt like the shortest lifetime you'd ever experienced. The love you felt for the man in front of you was stronger than anything you had ever felt before, and you knew in your heart that would never change.

Frank wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back in for another kiss, this one considerably longer than the last. The two of you stood there for a while, making out while your hands explored the familiar planes of each other's bodies. Frank was fucking your mouth slowly with his tongue, kissing you like a promise in the way he knew made your knees weak. You almost gave up on the plan right then and there, but your excitement for what was to come later that night saved you from falling into the trap.

You reached a hand down between you to palm at Frank's growing erection. You heard him let out a low hum, and you felt the vibrations travel from his chest through yours, relaxing you from the inside out. It didn't take long for him to start pushing back against your warm hand, seeking some relief, but he didn't find any. . .

because that was when you stopped moving. You pulled away from the kiss, keeping your hand perfectly still and looking up at him sweetly through your eyelashes.

"What time is it?" you inquired, focusing all your energy into keeping a straight, innocent face.

"Uh. . . 'bout 6:30?" Frank was obviously not thrilled that you had stopped kissing him to ask that of all things. 'Perfect,' you thought maliciously. Unable to fight it any longer, a sly, excited smile slowly overtook your face.

"It's dinner time," you whispered.

Before he could react, you slipped out of Frank's grasp and sauntered away to the kitchen. You went straight to the pantry to gather everything you would need to make spaghetti and garlic bread, and set it on the counter next to the stove.

When Frank was finished staring blankly at the wall, mystified, he joined you in the kitchen to find you filling up a pot with water at the sink. He crept up behind you, wrapping you up in a hug and leaving a soft kiss on your cheek.

"What'd you do that for, hmm?" He was using a voice that you were all too familiar with. It was the voice he used when he wanted something from you, and most days it had you folding instantly. He sounded so condescending, and it was playing right into your more submissive side. He was being an asshole, but he was just such a hot asshole, and somehow it always. freaking. worked.

Except it wouldn't work today. You would make sure of it.

"Go sit down, Frankie," you requested, gesturing to the bar behind the sink.

"Dinner can wait a little while. Your tomatoes aren't gonna go bad in an hour, sweetheart." You shut off the faucet and tried to move over to the stove, but Frank tightened his hold on you, refusing to let you go.

"I'm hungry," you complained.

"So am I," Frank teased, making sure you could feel the proof of his statement pressed up against you. You rolled your eyes at how audible his stupid smirk was.

"I'm trying to make us a special anniversary dinner. Now go sit down, Frank."

Frank knew you weren't actually upset with him, and he wasn't stupid so he knew what you were doing. You weren't stupid either, so you knew he secretly liked it. You were having a competition, and you couldn't wait to finally beat your insufferably headstrong boyfriend at a game of wills. All you had to do to win was hold out until you were finished eating, and this time around you had some tricks up your sleeve.

Frank groaned defeatedly. No matter how much he wanted you, his chivalrous upbringing prevented him from denying his lady what she wanted. So, he gave in and trudged around the counter to sit on the barstool across from the sink. You could feel his eyes following you as you went about making your dinner. His gaze was burning holes all over your body, heating up your core and exhilarating your mind. Every movement you made was intentional, perfectly executed in a way that kept Frank on edge and his jeans too tight.

When you needed something from the lower cabinets, you would bend over to show off your panties, and the fabric would stretch tighter around the swell of your ass. When you needed something from the top cabinets, you would stand on your tiptoes and stretch to reach it, revealing more of your tummy and causing the underwire to push your chest out a little further. While you were reading from the recipe book, you would "absent-mindedly" twirl your hair around your fingers or lean forward on the counter, subtly arching your back.

Once, when you were finished blending your home-made spaghetti sauce and it was heating up on the stove, you dipped a finger in the pot and delicately licked it clean. You didn't look at Frank while you did it because you're sure you would have laughed at how ridiculous it was, but you knew he saw it (and liked it) from his small frustrated sigh.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked, semi-sarcastically.

"Nope!" you replied happily, dropping your handful of dry spaghetti in the boiling water.

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure, yeah." You smiled at him, walking past the bar to put your leftover garlic in the pantry on the other side.

As you were walking back, you failed to notice Frank had hopped to the barstool closest to you until he had already sprung his attack. Lightning fast, he snatched you up and pulled you towards him, slipping a hand under your robe to grab at your ass and wrapping the other around your waist to hold you still. He buried his face in your neck, and you felt him shudder and tighten his grip as he inhaled deeply. The special occasion perfume you wore never failed to drive him wild.

"It's just that I feel so useless sitting over here, doing nothing," he purred, his lips tracing patterns across your collarbone.

"You're definitely not doing nothing," you mumbled.

"That right? What am I doin' then, hmm?"

When you didn't respond, Frank slid his hand away from your ass and dragged two of his fingers gently over the lace covering your arousal. When he drew his hand back and held it up, you saw his fingers were significantly shinier than they were before. That was the biggest downside to fancy underwear. Sure, they look nice, but they do nothing to absorb moisture.

"Is that what I'm doing?" You nodded. "Yeah? But I've just been sitting here," Frank teased.

'Goddammit,' you thought. 'How did I ever think I could make it past dinner with this asshole?'

"Know what I think? I think you just like attention. You put on a show for whoever's watching and you get soaked right through, is that it?" He moved his hand back down to start rubbing gentle circles on your clit through the fabric.

"No, I don't," you fussed, pushing at Frank's bicep to try and dislodge his hand. He just pressed down harder, making you desperately wish you could squeeze your thighs together and grind on his fingers until you were dripping on the floor.

"No? Then what is it, sweetheart? What's got you so wet, huh?"

"Just you," you mumbled. "Just your attention."

"Yeah? That's sweet, baby. Well if this is all my fault, then I should do somethin' about it, shouldn't I?"

Unable to fight back any longer, you nodded. The ache in your core was running too deep, and the relief Frank promised seemed more satisfying than any victory possibly could. Grinning dangerously, Frank released you and stood up before pulling you back into a feverish kiss. You got so lost in the contact that you didn't realize Frank was pushing you until your back hit the counter.

Suddenly, Frank's hands traveled down to settle on your upper thighs. This was a signal you were all too familiar with. Barely a second after you felt it, you jumped, wrapping your legs around him as he set you down on the counter.

As soon as he had you where he wanted you, Frank latched onto your neck, kissing and biting wherever he could reach, leaving faint red marks in all your most sensitive places. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and bit your lip hard as voltaic sensations zipped up and down your spine. Frank slipped your robe gently off your shoulders, leaving light kisses along the newly exposed skin.

Frank left a darker bruise on the base of your neck before tenderly grabbing your jaw to trace his tongue along your bottom lip. With one hand (and a little cooperation on your part), he pulled your robe the rest of the way off and tossed it to the side. Then, he began moving slowly down your torso, stopping to nip lightly at your rigid buds through the flowers hiding them and lick a few gentle stripes up your stomach. When he got too far down to bend over comfortably, he pulled his barstool up behind him and tugged you to the edge of the counter before sitting back down.

At first you didn't know what he was planning, but you figured it out pretty quick when he grabbed your legs and tossed them over his shoulders. Your tailbone was aching and the faucet was digging into your back, but you couldn't bring yourself to care when Frank began leaving hot kisses up your thigh. His stubble was rough against your skin and you were secretly hoping you would still be feeling it in the morning.

You felt Franks nose bump against your clit as he swiped his tongue over your obvious wet spot. The sudden feeling surprised you, and you didn't have time to prevent a small whine from slipping out. Smirking, Frank drew his tongue tortuously slowly from the very back of your cunt to your sensitive nub. When he reached it, he sucked gently at it, feeling your thighs tremble around his head.

"Frank, please," you gasped, throwing your head back when he sucked harder.

Frank finally started slipping his fingers in your waistband, and tapped your hip to get you to lift up. He tugged your panties down to your knees and-

*hisssssssssss*

"Oh, shit!" you cried, pushing Frank away from you. Your spaghetti was bubbling over! You hopped off the counter and pulled your underwear back up, running to stir the pasta with your wooden spoon. As soon as you got the water to settle, your timer went off, signaling that it was done.

You grabbed Frank's strainer (which was actually one of yours that you brought over to encourage Frank to eat better) and drained your spaghetti over the sink. While you were shaking out all the water droplets, you looked up to find Frank moping with his head resting in his hand.

"Oh, come on," you said, noticing his pouty face. "What did you want me to do, let your kitchen burn down?"

"You can't start a fire with spaghetti."

"You'd be surprised."

"I just needed five more minutes, baby. That's it," Frank complained.

"Five more minutes and we'd be eating spaghetti-flavored mush," you retorted. "Besides, dinner's just about ready now. You've only gotta wait another half hour, and then you can have whatever you want."

Frank brightened slightly at the prospect, though he tried to hide it. Turns out, after four years of dating, you learn to spot the little emotions flickering behind your partner's eyes.

"Why are you doing this to me, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying it."

"I just wanna touch you. Why won't you let me touch you, hmm? I know you want me to," Frank grumbled.

"I did let you touch me," you argued back lightheartedly.

"Yeah, but that wasn't part of the plan, was it baby? You're still trying to stay away from me."

"Why does it matter what I'm trying to do if you got what you wanted anyway?" you reasoned.

"I didn't get what I wanted."

"Tough luck. You will."

"You would've lost if it weren't for those fuckin' noodles," Frank jeered.

"Why do you think I set so many timers?"

*ding*

You switched off the oven and grabbed some potholders to extract your garlic bread.

"Go sit at the table. I'll bring you a plate," you ordered.

Frank sighed, but he did as he was told. As the two of you ate together, you actually had a very nice conversation, laughing and talking about your days as if nothing had even happened. Frank told you about a guy that was trying to save the ugliest, most broken car that had ever entered the shop. You told Frank about the return of one of your nightmare customers. For the entire time you were seated at the table, there was no torture whatsoever on either part. You were both content to celebrate your anniversary with good food and the best company you could ask for.

When you were finally done eating and talking, it had been well over half an hour, but it didn't feel like it. Your time spent with Frank never dragged on endlessly like it seemed to elsewhere. His presence was like a multipurpose drug to you, and it worked better than any stimulant or depressant you could find in even the sketchiest of back-alleys in Hell's Kitchen. There was no doubt in your mind that you had found the person you would be spending the rest of your life with.

You stood up to begin clearing your dishes, but Frank caught your wrist before you could touch a single utensil.

"Oh, no you don't," Frank said, pushing you back down into your chair. "You did the hard part, let me handle all the easy stuff."

"Yes, sir," you giggled, watching him work. When everything was cleared, you joined Frank in the kitchen, where you found him rinsing the dishes with warm water and loading them into the dishwasher.

Copying what he had done to you earlier, you wrapped your arms around his midsection, hugging him tightly and pressing your face against his back. He patted your arm with his wet hands, and you smiled into his shoulder before wiping it off on his shirt. Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, enjoying his warmth and his familiar scent.

"You can just leave them in the sink for now," you suggested sleepily.

"Now who's impatient?" Frank teased.

Groaning softly, you gave him one more big squeeze before letting go and walking away down the hall.

"When you're ready, you can come meet me in the bedroom," you called behind you. Frank finished up pretty quickly after that.

He entered the bedroom to find you laying down with your eyes closed. Smiling at how peaceful you looked, he carefully laid down on the bed next to you. Almost immediately, you rolled over on top of him, enjoying the feeling of his warm chest against your face. He was like your own personal space heater, which made him very useful to have around in the colder months.

You shivered at the feeling of his hand running through your hair. 'How did I ever relax before I met him?' you wondered. You felt dangerously close to falling asleep, and as good as that sounded, there was something you had been looking forward to for a while that sounded significantly better.

Forcing yourself to sit up, you sat straddling Frank's stomach, staring into his eyes and waiting for him to make the first move. You had been having fun all evening; the night belonged to him now.

"I know what you were after earlier, sweetheart. You look a little tired now, is that still what you want?" he asked. He was always so gentle with you. Even when he really wasn't.

"Yeah," you confirmed, "But I want you to do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want, huh? That's a dangerous thing to say, baby."

"I trust you," you whispered. "And I already know I'm gonna like it, whatever you decide."

Frank hummed, running his hands up and down your thighs as he thought about what to do first. You knew he had reached a decision when he grabbed you and tossed you onto the bed beside him. You yelped at the sudden motion, looking over at him to see exactly what it was he was trying to do.

Frank was taking his belt off. He slid over to sit in front of you, belt in hand, and pulled you back onto his lap.

"You know I can't let you get away with all that bullshit you pulled back there, right?" he asked patronizingly.

"I mean. . . you could," you responded.

Frank scoffed. "You should shut your mouth before you make this worse for yourself. You wanna get to the fun part, don't you?"

"This is the fun part," you confessed.

Frank grabbed your jaw roughly with one hand, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

"You're gonna take that back in a minute, baby," Frank growled. He released your jaw to catch both your wrists in his hands, pinning them behind your back.

"All I wanted when I got home was to make my pretty girl feel good, but you decided to be a fuckin' brat." There was a darkness in his eyes that you knew was just for show, but it thrilled you all the same. "I'm gonna show you exactly what that feels like."

Holding both your wrists in one hand, he took his belt and wrapped it tightly around them, latching the buckle and securing them together. When he was sure it would hold and wasn't too uncomfortable, he pushed you off his lap so you were laying on your back on the bed.

"Now," he said, "I'm gonna finish what we started."

He immediately sprung into action, forcibly spreading your legs and slipping your panties all the way down. He tossed them aside and fit himself between your legs, leaning in to kiss you. At first you weren't sure how this was supposed to be a punishment, but you figured it out pretty quickly.

Frank kissed you so deeply, tugging at your hair and tracing your curves with his fingertips. He gripped your waist and your thighs, his dull fingernails leaving behind little indents when he'd get carried away. He could put his hands all over you, wherever and whenever he wanted, but you couldn't do the same. You wanted to pull him closer and squish his biceps teasingly to make him laugh. You wanted to feel his stubble in your hands and rub his shoulders as he bit your neck. You never realized how important your hands were when kissing someone until they were taken from you.

As Frank took to reinforcing the fading red marks he left earlier, he slipped a hand between your thighs to cup your dripping pussy in his palm. You gasped as he used the heel of his hand to rub it a few times, the pressure creating an addictive friction that had you grinding down against him.

Without warning, he slid two fingers inside you, finding your g-spot with practiced ease and stroking it gently. You cried out softly at the sudden stretch. Frank's fingers filled you up so much better than yours ever could. Sometimes you swore he knew more about what made you feel good than you knew about yourself.

Your thighs shook as he began pumping his fingers slowly in and out, stopping every so often to grind his palm against your clit. Your arms were falling asleep underneath you, but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of Frank's hair tickling your stomach as he moved down to replace his fingers with his tongue.

You whined at the loss when he pulled his hand away, but your disappointment didn't last long as he truly began to finish what he'd started. Your thighs clamped down around his head when you felt the first swipe of his tongue, but he forced them back open, his wet fingers marking your thigh with your slick.

You moaned as he gave your cunt several long licks, cleaning up the moisture that had pooled between your folds. The need to reach out and push his head down or grab onto his hair was overwhelming, but you couldn't move. All you could do was take what he gave you. When he decided you'd had enough teasing, he dove in fully, eating you out like it was his favorite thing in the world. He tongued at your clit, sucking it at random intervals to see what noises he could coax out of you. Sometimes, he would lap gently at your entrance, just barely dipping inside so you could feel how empty you really were. He gave you one more rough lick before plunging his fingers back inside you and sucking hard at your clit. You almost sobbed as you came over his hand, trembling through your release. Frank groaned softly against you, enjoying the feeling of your walls fluttering and pulsing around any part of him.

He patted your thighs lovingly, coming up from between your legs to kiss you. You were still slightly out of it and breathing heavily, but tasting yourself on Frank's tongue brought you back to the present.

"See what you did to me now?" he asked when he pulled away.

"Yeah," you breathed.

"Think we're even, then?"

"Uh-huh," you answered, struggling to sit up with your hands tied.

"I don't."

"What?"

"I didn't let you touch me, but I still made you feel good, didn't I? All you ever did was tease me. Do you still think we're even, baby?" Frank questioned, stroking your lip with his thumb.

"No," you mumbled.

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

Instead of responding verbally, you parted your lips and sucked his thumb gently into your mouth. After a few seconds, Frank pulled it out and replaced it with the two fingers that had previously been inside you, encouraging you to clean them off.

"That's a good start." Frank pulled his fingers back, satisfied with your work. "But you're gonna need to do more than that, sweetheart."

You hesitated, trying to figure out how you were supposed to lean forward without falling flat on your face.

"You know what I want, baby," he encouraged. "What are you waiting for?" Frank knew very well what you were waiting for, but his sadistic side wanted to watch you figure it out.

Rising up onto your knees, you spread your thighs apart for better balance, and slowly began to lower your head towards Frank's zipper. You made it all the way down without crashing, but you refused to make a fool out of yourself by trying to unbutton his pants with your teeth. Instead, you gazed up at him desperately, pleading for assistance with just your eyes.

Unfortunately, Frank wasn't budging. He raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, letting you know you were gonna have to work for it. Huffing, you lowered your gaze back to the zipper, bracing yourself for your impending embarrassment. You were just about to attack his button with your tongue when you were struck by an idea. There was more than one way you could work for it.

Leaning in closer, you started mouthing at his bulge, kissing it wetly through the fabric. You could tell it was affecting him by the way he twitched under your tongue when you licked lovingly at (what you hoped was) the tip. Using your nose, you nudged at the hem of Frank's t-shirt, and he pulled it up for you so you could leave little red marks and sweet kisses across his abs. Frank grunted quietly when you sucked at a sensitive spot, petting your head softly so you'd do it again. He was really enjoying the sight of you bent over, begging for his cock with your mouth. So much so, that he almost didn't want to give it to you.

He held out for a while, only giving in when the warmth of your mouth soaked fully through his jeans, wetting his dick and making him want more.

"Shit, alright," he groaned, reaching down to unzip his jeans. He tugged them down just enough to get to his boxers, reaching inside to pull out his hard, leaking cock.

"There," he murmured, tapping it sweetly against your cheek. "Have at it, pretty girl."

You were concerned about catching it in your mouth without your hands, but Frank generously decided you didn't have to everything on your own. When you turned your head towards it, he held it still and fed it to you slowly, stroking your hair as you went at your own pace.

You paused for a little while in the beginning to pay attention to his dripping head, laving at the sensitive bottom and sucking softly at the tip. You left a dainty lick on his slit before you took more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around his length. You stared up at him as you dragged your tongue teasingly along the underside, tracing a prominent vein that you were very familiar with.

Frank's breathing was getting heavier, letting you know you were doing a good job. Feeling emboldened, you carefully took him all the way to the base, choking softly as he hit the back of your throat.

"Attagirl, fuck," Frank breathed, pushing your head down farther. He held you there for a moment, subtly grinding his cock against the roof of your mouth. Jolting at the feeling, he pushed a little too hard by accident, triggering your gag reflex. You pulled back to catch your breath before continuing to bob your head up and down along his length, taking him as deep as you could without coughing. Before long, your jaw was aching and tears were streaming down your cheeks from choking a few too many times.

Finally, after nearly fifteen minutes of working Frank over with nothing but your mouth, he groaned deeply, signaling his impending release.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-" he warned, sighing as he came in hot ribbons down your throat. You closed your eyes and relaxed into the feeling of his cock pulsing on your tongue, waiting for it to soften slightly before letting it fall from your mouth.

You sat back up and watched Frank pull his pants the rest of the way off before tucking himself back into his underwear.

"Are we even now?" you asked.

"Yeah, I'd say so," Frank smiled. "Come here, I'll get you untied real quick."

You turned away from him so he could take the belt off you, wiggling your fingers and rolling your wrists to regain the feeling you had lost in your hands. Twisting back around, you pounced, knocking him flat on his back and pushing his shirt up as far as it would go. Making up for lost time, you began rubbing at his chest and his shoulders, and tracing his abs with your fingertips. He chuckled at your neediness, pulling his shirt off to give you better access, which you happily took advantage of. Cradling his face in your hands, you left dozens of little kisses all over his mouth and his neck. It felt so good to be able to touch him again, you didn't think you would ever let go.

Still holding you close to him, Frank turned so his back was against the headboard and he could cuddle you in a more comfortable position. For a while, you laid in silence, syncing your breathing with his and seeing if you could find a way to match your heartbeats. So far, not much luck, but you were sure you'd figure it out someday.

Checking the clock on the nightstand, you saw that you'd been laying there for about ten minutes. "That should be enough time," you thought. You looked up to find Frank's eyes closed, but you knew he was awake.

"Frankie?" you called, almost inaudibly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think it's time for the 'fun part' now?"

Frank smiled. "Do you want it to be?"

He opened his eyes, watching you closely as you unfastened your bra in the back, and slipped it off slowly. You dropped it on the bed beside you, leaving you completely exposed for Frank to admire you.

"Yeah, I do," you whispered.

Frank surged up to kiss you again, this time much gentler than before. He ran his hands up your sides to tenderly massage your bare chest. You whimpered into the kiss as he rubbed at your nipples, the little buds sensitive from being previously neglected.

Feeling impatient, you tugged his boxers down and quickly began stroking his growing length. Frank hissed at the shock, but he was thrusting up into your hand before too long. As soon as he was half hard, you lifted up and positioned his cock at your entrance before sinking down all the way. You cried out at the intrusion, feeling him curve perfectly inside you to brush your sweet spot on every thrust.

You sat there for a minute, just barely circling your hips as you focused on the feeling of him hardening fully inside you. When he was finished growing, you began to ride him, slowly pushing your body up and down on his cock as he raised his hips to meet you half-way.

Frank punched little noises out of your chest with every bounce, leaning in to hide his face in your neck. He breathed in the wonderful scent of sweat, sex, and expensive perfume, groaning desperately into your skin.

After a while of thrusting and grinding and bouncing, your thighs began to ache, and you weren't able to maintain the same speed anymore. Picking up on your sudden change, Frank took charge almost on autopilot, and flipped you over so you were underneath him.

You moaned at the relief and the change in tempo as he fucked into you faster and harder and deeper, but still with so much love and care behind every movement. When you caught his eyes, it felt like you were staring into your future, and you saw nothing but inevitable happiness.

Your gasps and whines got louder and louder as you chased your release. Your soaked cunt was pulling Frank back in harder, squeezing tight around him to try and keep him from pulling out. Every sensation you were feeling kept building and building until finally, the tension snapped. You almost screamed as your climax washed over you like a rising tide, whiting out your vision and sending waves of pleasure washing over you.

Frank was right behind you, as the feeling of your walls constricting and fluttering around him pushed him over the edge. He came deep inside you, filling you up perfectly before pulling out carefully and collapsing beside you.

The two of you laid next to each other, holding each other tightly and soaking up the afterglow permeating the air all around you. You couldn't have asked for a better anniversary, or a better special someone to share it with. In that moment, as you got ready to drift off to sleep, everything was perfect.

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