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lovscb97 · 8 months ago

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— stray kids links [maknae line]

tags: maknae line!stray kids x fem!reader, established relationship, use of nicknames (baby, angel, puppy, sweetheart, etc), thigh job, oral sex (f. receiving), face sitting, squirting, oral sex (m. receiving), slight exhibitionism, unprotected sex (do not plz), rough sex, degradation (slut, whore, etc), dirty talk, punishments, begging, orgasm denial, creampie, pain kink, titfucking, praise, hand kink, shower sex, overstimulation, etc

wc: 2.95k

add. notes: hello,..,,...,... sorry for not posting consistently n for taking so long to do this i have been busy w exams as i said but i am almost free!!! in honor of that n both my links posts for skzenha hyung line reaching 2k+ notes, i present to u skz maknae line links :3 also im sorry 2 that anon who recommended i use reddit links i Did put one in from redgifs but tbh im lazy to find good stuff on there so most of this is from twt skjdjfhjhg i hope that is Ok.. anyways enjoy ehe

hyung line ver.

. . .

⥽ … HAN JISUNG:

link one.

one thing jisung will never say no to is a thigh job from you. he loves the feeling of your plush flesh enveloping his cock, squeezing it ever so slightly between your legs to give him that delicious pressure he so desperately craves. it's always after a particularly rough day that his eyes will light up at your offer too, and before you know it, you're both stripped down and laying on the bed, your frame resting on jisung's warm body as he bucks his hips up to chase the friction which will provide him relief at long last. sometimes, he'll ask you to do the work for him, enjoying the way you move your figure up and down his hardened length until you grow too tired, which just draws a small chuckle from his lips before he's pressing a kiss to your cheek and going back to the task himself. it always ends with him finishing between the crack of your ass, his groans reverberating through the room as he cums.

"oh, fuck. that's it, baby." your boyfriend moans below you, his pretty face contorted in pleasure as you move your thighs up and down his shaft, biting your lip at how his tip nestles itself against you. despite having been too lazy to let him fuck you, your juices still pool between your legs, acting as clear evidence of your arousal and helping in slicking up jisung's cock that's twitching from your onslaught ministrations. "sungie, 'm tired." you whine after a while, your muscles aching from the way you've been lifting them up and down for the last five minutes, to which jisung just huffs out a laugh. he wraps his arms around you, hugging you close to him and presses a kiss to the side of your face that has you smiling. "alright, lemme take over." he starts. "but, once i'm done, you're not going anywhere until you cum on my tongue." he whispers, sending shivers up your spine.

link two.

the first time you tried face sitting with jisung, you were hesitant. what if you suffocated him? what if he couldn't tap out in enough time and died? how would you explain that to your family at his funeral? despite your overthinking, jisung hushed away all your concerns, caressing your cheek with his thumb as he flashed you his signature smile after claiming all he needs in life is your pretty pussy smothering him. you'd gasped at his crude words and smacked him on the arm, but something about his admission had you thinking. after that, it didn't take much longer for you to give in to his fantasies, and once you got into the rhythm of it, you found yourself riding his nose and tongue often. jisung claimed you were his stress relief, and that eating you out made him feel like he was on cloud nine. you doubted his exaggerations, but as long as it made your boyfriend happy, you didn't mind.

obscene slurping fills the room, paired with your cries that bounced off the walls as jisung's tongue flicked through your wet hole. he'd been going at this for the past half an hour, hungrily lapping up at the essence dripping out of you and spreading it all over his face with the way he forced you to rock your hips back and forth. "ah, 'm close." you whimpered, making the mistake of looking down at your boyfriend who's currently got you perched on his mouth. his doe eyes make contact with yours, and you physically melt with the way he's glancing up at you so eagerly. if anything, after your announcement, his actions only get harsher and rougher, and it isn't long before you're squirting all over his face. jisung doesn't mind though, making sure to drink all of it up as he pulls you back down for another round, promising to make you cum even harder this time.

⥽ … LEE FELIX:

link one.

felix is a sensual lover through and through. he treats you to your favourite meal, buys you the clothes you want, takes care of you on your period, and of course, fucks you like he means it every single time. his favourite thing to do, however, is have you on your back with your legs spread and core on display in front of his awaiting mouth. he'll start by pressing wet kisses to your inner thighs, sucking ever so gently on the flesh just enough to make you squirm and grow wet. when he's got you leaking on the sheets, that's when he'll part you by the knees and dive in, warm tongue flicking out to caress your clit with its tip as you writhe under his hold. he does it so passionately too, enjoying the way you spray on his tongue and let out low noises which echo through the room alongside his lewd actions. he'll always milk at least one orgasm out of you before he even thinks of sinking inside you, but if you're being honest, you're sure doing that is much more pleasurable for him than actually fucking you.

"mm, lixie, baby. that feels so good." your mouth parts open in a soft gasp, feeling the way your boyfriend nudges his nose against your nub as he sticks his tongue out to lick inside your opening. you're sure that you're a mess of your own juices and felix's spit by now, but neither of you seem to care with the way he's swirling his wet muscle against your folds, too engrossed in his goal of making you cum all over his face. every so often, he groans lowly into you, causing the vibrations of his noises to rush through you as you clench around nothing. "c'mon, angel. give it to me." felix mumbles after pulling away momentarily, making direct eye contact with you as he moves back to push his tongue right against your swollen bundle of nerves. a few more deep licks and sucks from him have you falling apart in a silent scream, felix helping you ride out the tides of pleasure before he kisses his way back up your body. he's all smiles when he reaches you, which only prompts you to pull him in close to you. god, how you loved him.

link two.

your boyfriend may be the epitome of perfection, but one thing you debate felix loves as much as you are his gaming sessions with his friends. it's gotten to the point where he'll spend hours on no end punching buttons on his controller and cursing at enemies in front of his computer screen, too focused on his current round to pay you any attention. you've thought long and hard on how to get him to stop or at least give you some of his focus, and the only solution is obvious: sex. so, when felix is in the middle of a break, you take your chances, sinking to your knees and situating yourself underneath his desk much to his obvious confusion. his eyes widen when your fingers quickly make work of unzipping his shorts and tugging them down, small hands running across the fabric of his boxers as you bite your lip at the way he chubs out instantly. before he can even protest, you're yanking them off and taking him in your mouth in an instant. safe to say, his game is long forgotten after that.

felix's brows shoot up when he returns to find you waiting for him under your desk, mouth going dry when he sits down and you immediately go to take his cock out. the first press of your soft lips against his semi-hard length almost sends him spiralling, and he blames that on the fact that he hasn't touched you properly in the last day or so. he reckons that's why you're being so needy right now, watching with hooded eyes as your warm mouth wraps itself around him. he hisses at the sensation, heart thumping against his chest in alarm when his friends ask if he's okay from the other side of the call. "y-yeah, just stubbed my toe." felix lies, biting back a groan at the way your tongue licks at the underside of his dick. "pay attention, baby." you hush after pulling off of him, not even giving him a chance to recuperate before you're pushing him back in your mouth. he can hear his friends scolding him for being afk from his headphones, but their complains are far from his attention. all he can do right now is try not to cum on call, sinking back in his gaming chair as he locks gazes with you.

⥽ … KIM SEUNGMIN:

link one.

you know seungmin like the back of your hand, so you're well aware of the fact that he takes very lightly to your teasing and efforts to rile him up. on days where you decide to act out in front of his friends, he'll clench his jaw and go quiet in public, grip around your thigh tightening at most as he monitors your next moves carefully. nobody will suspect anything of it due to his nonchalance, but once he's got you back in private, that's when his facade comes crashing down. you won't even be able to speak before he's dragging you off to your shared bedroom, ripping you out of your clothes and manhandling you onto your stomach. you get no chances to protest either as he slides in without warning, your pained yelp for him to slow down falling upon deaf ears when he snaps his hips into yours with erratic thrusts. he'll degrade you and edge you until you're crying, truly looking to break your mind and body by the time he's done. he knows you'll misbehave again in the future, but in that very moment, at least he's got you right where he wants you: spread-legged and taking his cock like the slut you are.

"s-slow, minnie. hurts." you hiccup, broken words muffled when your boyfriend just pushes your head down into the sheets at your efforts to ask him to go easy on you. his scoff can be heard from above you, and you whine at the way his movements seem to pick up even rougher than before, arms pinned to your side as seungmin's body weight cages you in underneath him. "oh, please. you like the way it hurts, like it 'cause you're nothing but a whore." he taunts, his voice dripping with venom as you simply moan at his words. his balls slap against your clit with the way he's thrusting in and out of you, and all you can do is lay there and take it, your high rapidly approaching for what feels like the nth time today. "don't you dare fucking cum." seungmin growls when you clench down on him, leaving you begging wetly as your limp limbs give out on you. you're about to tether off the edge when he pulls out suddenly, laughing sadistically at your protests before pushing in once more to resume his actions. he repeats this over and over again, eventually filling you up but leaving you denied as punishment.

link two.

you've recently discovered your favourite way of making seungmin cum, and that's with your tits. it's especially on days when you can't be bothered to undress and get in the mood whilst your boyfriend is feeling insatiable that you'll resort to this, stripping out of your shirt and getting down on your knees in front of him. it doesn't take long after that to have seungmin's leaking cock snuggled between the valley of your chest, both your tits squeezing it in a soft hug as he groans with closed eyes. some days you don't even bother taking your bra off, using it as leverage for making sure his dick stays between your breasts. it's even more enjoyable for you despite not being able to cum, because the way seungmin becomes reduced to a whining mess through your actions fills you with pride. if you're feeling particularly like putting in the work, you'll wrap your lips around his tip just before he's about to cum, feeling it twitch against your tongue as your boyfriend empties himself in your mouth.

it's two in the afternoon when you find yourself giving seungmin his fourth titjob of the week. he's got you in front of him while he's seated on the couch, legs spread as his hard length stays encompassed between your chest which rubs itself up and down. despite being a mess of spit and precum, you're mesmerised by the way your boyfriend's aching red tip catches between your boobs, biting your lip before sneaking a glance up at his fucked out face. it's seldom you see him so desperate, but recently you've been blessed with the sounds of his airy moans more often, realising that this activity may have become his favourite way of getting off. "doing so good, puppy." you coo, not missing the way he twitches between your breasts at your words. his last straw is when you wrap your lips around his tip and suck slightly, a barely audible warning escaping him as he creams onto your awaiting tongue.

⥽ … YANG JEONGIN:

link one.

jeongin is well-known for having large hands and slender fingers, his long digits always being the main reason behind your fascination with his body. you like the way they wrap around your waist or back, making you feel protected whenever your boyfriend is near you, especially when you're both out and you can feel other men staring at you. it reminds you you're his. it's in the way that they're so much bigger than yours too, easily being able to take both your hands in only one of them. something about it turns you on to no end, which is why you often find yourself with your hands pinned behind your back in one of jeongin's, a sinister smirk etched across his beautiful face as he fucks deep into you. he'll mock you for your little obsession, the way his voice is laced with condescension leaving you pooling wet around him which only makes him tsk and ram into you even harder. deep down though, you know he adores the way you're so easily pliant for him.

"innie! innie, please." you choke out into the pillow that's currently got your face stuffed in it thanks to your boyfriend, hearing him sneer at the way you try and move around under his hold. jeongin has both your arms gripped in just one of his hands behind your figure which is laying on your stomach, his movements quick yet deep with the way he rolls his hips to drive his cock into you. "like my hands, sweetheart? like them so much that you're dripping ever since i pinned them behind you, huh?" he mocks you, grunting as he speeds up his thrusts. the way he's drilling into you makes you see stars, and the dirty sound of skin slapping being the only thing resonating throughout the room besides your moans is all is takes for you to cum around him soon enough. you reach your peak with a wail of jeongin's name on your lips, clenching when you feel his fingers squeeze in below your body to flick at your swollen clit. "don't run, take it." jeongin growls, pushing your head into your sheets once more as you drool all over the comforter.

link two.

you're not sure when it started, but recently, having sex in the shower has become a reccuring occasion for you and jeongin. maybe it's the fact that you're both busy throughout the day and it saves time to engage and clean up together under running water simultaneously, or maybe it's because jeongin is just always looking to fuck you with his high sex drive, but it's definitely become a game changer for your relationship. you know he likes the way your tits are lathered with soap, bouncing from the frequency of his thrusts inside you as you lean a hand against the wall to support yourself. jeongin also always makes sure to steady his grip on you before fucking up into you under the warm stream coming out of your showerhead, groaning into your wet ear as he pulls you back by his large palm splayed across your hip. he likes the way your moans echo off the walls in the small bathroom you both share, always making sure he's giving it to you good regardless of where you both may be.

the splatter of water cascading down your bodies drags you out of your thoughts, a low noise rumbling from the back of your throat as you feel the heavy drag of your boyfriend's cock pushing in and out of you. he's got you arching your back, pulling you back on him every now and then in a way that makes his cockhead press up against that spot inside you deliciously. if you were in a hurry to go somewhere, you know you surely would've been late with the way you keep cumming and asking him for more, unable to satiate the spiking desire that's been burning through you since this morning when jeongin opened the door and asked if he could join you in rinsing off. "fuck, angel. not gonna last long." jeongin swallows, mouthing at your shoulder as you let your head fall back against him. "don't care. cum in me. cum inside, baby. please." you keen at a specifically harsh thrust, mewling when jeongin's thumb finds your engorged nub, rubbing it in quick circles to get you there at the same time. a scream rips out of you as the coil in your stomach eventually snaps, and you shudder as jeongin's seed spills warm inside you.

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leashybebes · 3 months ago

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Buck jolts awake on the couch with no idea of what time it is, and even less idea of what woke him. The latter resolves itself pretty quickly when, from the other end of the couch, Tommy lets out another window-rattling snore. Mr what are you talking about, Evan, I don't snore has his head tipped back, his mouth wide open. It's a deeply unflattering position and Buck can't help himself, reaches for his phone and snaps a photo.

Tommy's own phone is on the coffee table and if Buck can get there without waking him, he's going to have a delightful new wallpaper come morning. He wonders if he could sneak in a recording of Tommy's pneumatic drill impression and set it as his ringtone, too. Maybe it's a little mean, but Tommy's just such a dad with his insistence that he doesn't snore.

Buck almost drops his phone, but not before he sees the time: 00.34.

Mentally, he scrolls through the day. A run through the neighbourhood, running into the lady two streets over with the cute dog. An unnecessarily indulgent breakfast, as has become a habit on his days off. Facetiming with Eddie and Chris. Collecting Jee from swimming lessons and dropping her home after an ice cream. Tommy showing up like he always does on their mutual free days - unannounced but never unwelcome. Trying to put together a decent lunch while Tommy tunes up the Jeep's engine for the third time in six weeks. Driving to the grocery store and bickering their way around the aisles. Talking Tommy's ear off about the latest episode of the latest podcast he's gotten into while they make dinner. Tag teaming the clean up when Tommy tries to insist he can take care of it all. Settling in to watch another movie Tommy can't believe you've never seen, Evan.

Yep. Nothing.

He pulls up the notes app on his phone, opens the right folder, and starts a new message. He'd given up on actually sending them before they could start getting bounced back with a number out of service message, knowing that would have taken him out at the knees.

It's past midnight and I didn't think about you dying once today, he writes. I know you'd say that's a good thing, and I think you're right, but I think it's the first time that's happened, and I feel really weird about it. I had a really nice day. There was a time I didn't think I'd ever have a nice day again, but I saw a cute dog, and I spoiled Jee, and I cooked, and I hung out with Tommy, and it was really, really nice. We're not back together btw but it's heading there. We both know it. You were right about him. I really, really wish you were here.

He saves the note, pockets his phone, leans over and pinches Tommy's nose shut in the middle of another snore to watch him flail awake.

"Asshole," Tommy says, once he's settled.

"Yep. C'mon," Buck tells him. "Bed."

Tommy grumbles, heaves himself to his feet, and staggers towards the bathroom. Buck watches him go for a second. Platonic and only slightly charged bed sharing is a fairly new development - Tommy has slept on this couch a lot over the last few months. He has a toothbrush in the bathroom. He has spare clothes in Buck's closet. He has a key.

Buck takes out his phone again and hesitates for a second.

I'm gonna tell him, he adds to his message. Tonight. Right now. While he's brushing his teeth so he can't change the subject. Wish me luck, pops. Love you.

#my writing #911 spoilers #bucktommy #YOU'RE distracting yourself from an assignment

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snouse · 13 days ago

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Wanna give your lil man his fun lil hat?

As the swarm of bugs is invading our homes, I'm sure I'm not the only one that wants to give him his silly hat :)

To make it easier on yall, I turned mine into some patterns, a smaller very simple one that can be folded out of a single piece of cardstock and a more involved one meant to be cut from thicker cardboard/EVA foam/etc which is the one my guy is wearing in the picture above.

Full image instructions and downloadable print PDF file under the cut <3

The cardstock pattern should be pretty self explanatory, like I said it's slightly smaller but can also easily be scaled up. Here's him sporting the cardboard prototype and the snazzy party hat I tested the pattern with for reference :)

Both are scaled with A4 format in mind but it shouldn't make much of a difference in size if printed on another format. You can download the pdf here (or trace the shapes from your screen onto some paper).

Foam/Cardboard pattern instructions:

Cut out all pattern pieces.

You should probably also pre-bend the brim part and the top of the hat a little if you're using cardboard for this so it all fits together more snugly later.

If using contact cement, apply glue to the width of the front and back pieces and the sides of the side pieces as shown below then press everything together one piece at a time once the glue has dried.

Once that rectangle is formed, apply glue to the width of its top and all the way around the perimeter of the top and then attach that together as well.

Glue the top of the hat to the base brim part applying glue to the base and the open bottom of the shape we just glued together.

To make it attachable to his big ole head, use a single piece of long elastic (~30cm/1ft depending on how stretchy it is) or two pieces of ribbon and either glue it down to the brim or feed it though the overhang.

I personally ended up placing my ribbon string somewhat offset on both sides like this because it makes the hat sit a little sideways on his head which I prefer.

Now all thats left to do is prime and paint it!

Have fun and let me know if theres any questions or suggestions! Please please please tag me in pics if you end up using this pattern I would love to see :D

Notes:

Remember to double check the fit of your pieces before gluing. This is my first time digitalizing patterns and I did not feel like vectorizing em so they're hand traced and there might be very slight sizing differences depending on the thickness of the material you use. I did use the printed pattern to cut out my foam pieces though so they should be fitting pretty well if you're also using 3mm-ish material.

If you're using something very thin that cannot be glued by its width, you should add glue flaps to all sides of the front and back piece and the top and bottom of the side pieces similar to the simplified pattern.

Obviously the foam pattern can be scaled as well! Play around with this, in the end it really is just a simplified and scaled down version of my full size cosplay hat :) (If anyone happens to need tips on how that beast works for their own cosplay feel free to lemme know as well btw I'm pretty proud of the contraption I came up with to keep it on my head lol)

Thanks for reading! Have fun with your Speks and give your own little freak a pat from me <3

#inspekta #inspekta plushie #great god grove #ggg

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peeweekey · 1 year ago

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8:05 | SAM

word count: 3.2k

summary: sam’s ten heart event with a twist.

tags: winter, developing relationships, fluff, swearing, cuddling, hiding from his mother in his bed lol

a/n: this spiralled out of my control and into 3k words… enjoy!

it’s cold.

the fleece coat you’ve bundled yourself in cannot protect goosebumps from forming from the biting chill of the valley’s winter nights. your breaths come out in cloudy puffs of air, the heat slowly draining out of every exhale. it’s dark out, poorly spaced lampposts providing the bare minimum amount of light to navigate.

you got sam’s letter earlier, a clumsily written note that was stuffed haphazardly into your farm’s mailbox—the yellow lined paper he used, all crumpled and ripped.

meet me in front of my house! at 8 pm, i’ll be waiting. there’s something i want to tell you.

the ending sentence is somehow even more sloppily written compared to the ones before it. as if he was debating whether or not to add it in, but ultimately decided for it—it’s funny to imagine him hunched over his desk, stressing over what to write to you.

well, you won’t deny feeling excitement over the possibility of whatever sam has to say. if the subtle skip in your step is anything to go by.

you walk through the silent night of the town, it seems like everything’s frozen in place during the colder times of the year—everyone’s safe at home, toasty under their covers and you’d imagine thoroughly enjoying going to bed at 7 pm.

you do too, sometimes. there’s less to do when the ground is too frozen to plant any crop.

there’s a lot more free time out of the farm during the winter. you’ve really started integrating yourself with the townspeople—helping haley find her bracelet, befriending sam’s prickly coworker shane, and even discovering a shadowperson named Krobus in the town sewers. it really is starting to feel like home.

walking, you cut the corner passing by emily and haley’s house—and there he is.

he looks devastatingly handsome all dressed in winter clothing. his regular denim jacket switched out for a dark woolen coat, his pants are unripped and, surprisingly, not smeared with dirt.

though what you like most about his winter attire is his hair. those wild golden locks are laid flat under a woolen beanie—a stark difference from the spiked updo he usually does (though you like that one too). the tips of his hair are slightly curled upwards, revealing that family trait of curly hair.

you creep closer, just watching him wait for you—the way he folds his arms in an attempt to warm up, and the little shuffle he does on his feet. you laugh softly, he must’ve been waiting a while—just like you have for him.

sam turns at the sound of your laugh, his body unconsciously tilting towards you, like a magnet’s uncontrollable attracting to metal. “you made it,” he breathes, his nose, ears and cheeks pinkened by the cold.

you nod, unable to stop a bashful smile from forming on your lips. “i made it.”

a big grin splits his face, mimicking yours. underneath the lone lamplight he looks jaw-droppingly handsome. you feel yourself become warm just in proximity to him.

“i wanted to talk to you in private,” he says. sam’s buzzing with energy, surveying the dark streets before meeting your gaze with his. “it’s kinda cold out here though… i, um—i can sneak you into my room…”

your heart skips a beat, like you’ve skipped a step on a staircase. “what?” you croak.

your eyes catch onto him wringing his fingers, a nervous habit you can’t help but always notice (not because his hands are nice and interesting to look at, not at all).

“you don’t wanna?”

“no!” you inhale, trying to alleviate the twisting sensation in your gut. “i do wanna, ahem, lead the way.”

sam smiles at you, dimples and all. he leads you towards the tiny bedroom window in front of his house. the window is already open—you assume that’s where he jumped out of to meet you.

he climbs through the window with minimal effort, landing on the flooring with a dull thump!

you raise a brow. “have you done this before?”

sam stretches his hand out to you, waiting. his smile turnt sheepish. “i mean, i think we were all rebellious teenagers once.”

you resist the urge to snort—sam’s nervous, you can tell. he doesn’t have his quips and jokes tonight. and he’s shy, but eager. like a puppy, excited and curious about the world.

“o-kay,” you say, one hand in his hand the other set firmly on the windowsill. “make sure i don’t fall please.”

sam nods, eagerly. the curled ends of his hair shake along with the motion as he does.

how endearing.

you tighten your grip on his hand, hauling yourself through the small window, trying your damn best to not make any sudden noise. which is successful for the most part, only a tiny huff of exertion escapes you.

annoying, yes. but the chill of winter burns through any energy you have faster than other seasons.

your feet connect with the wood of his floor, hand still clasped in his and the chill merely at your back. it’s warm inside, with him.

his room is the same as it’s always been when you’d visit before—shelves, band equipment, posters—but the ambiance is different. a little more charged with tension so thick you could cut through it with a knife.

sam does not bother turning on his light, you don’t mind it all that much. but it takes some effort to avoid tumbling over stray objects that clutter his bedroom floor.

“look, I know I’ve been about nothing but the band for a while now…” he starts. “but I don’t want you to think that’s all i’m interested in.”

you chuckle, clasping your fingers behind your back. “it certainly takes up a big chunk of your interests.”

he pouts, literally pouts. it must be the love bug you caught because you think it’s just plain adorable. “i’m really trying over here!”

“sorry!” you grin, “okay, continue.”

“well, um… shoot, this is kinda hard, huh?” he forces an awkward chuckle. “and nerve-wrecking… but what i’m trying to say is…”

“i’m really happy that we’ve grown this close, and well…” sam looks at you, he’s stupidly red—the color spreading all over his face. “i—i’m just wondering, do you think of me as… just a friend?”

your breath stutters, and you feel yourself blushing before you can do anything to stop it. you stare at him as he does with you. the two of you locking eyes for a second, it feels like it’s just you and him in the world.

you feel your shy admittance at the tip of your tongue. no, you’d say, you’re more than that for me, if you want to be.

sam smiles at you, shy but so, so overwhelmingly bright—it’s blinding. your head is running a mile a minute when you finally get the courage—

“sam!” you hear jodi’s groggy voice from outside the door. your stomach drops with dread. “somebody’s at the door! go and check please?”

you lock eyes once again, this time for entirely different reasons, and with entirely different feelings.

“oh my god, sam,” you whisper hurriedly, panic gripping you. “your mom doesn’t know i’m here—what do we do—”

“hold on—” he replies, with the same sense of urgency as you. “okay, okay—i have a plan, just trust me, ‘kay?”

you think you might break out into a cold sweat. you look at him quizzically, “what?”

sam gives you an apologetic smile with that stupid beautiful face of his, he moves forward, grabbing you by your wrists, and moving you with him—towards his bed.

“sam!” you hiss, alarms are blaring in every corner of your mind as sam all but drags you under the toasty covers of his bed. he lifts the blanket and stations you by the edge, covering you in the blanket—which is now a lumpy mess.

this is his childhood bed you’re in, where his mother and brother are just by the door.

and his mother is calling him.

“i’ll get this over with quick,” he says to you, already heading towards the door of his room. “hang on tight, ‘kay?”

you breathe a sound of agreement, way too jittery to formulate any proper response as you quieten under the covers.

though the sheets do feel nice, and smells overwhelmingly of that specific cologne he uses (stolen from joja inventory, he told you once). you will yourself not to relax and melt into the sheets so fast. instead, you listen for each and every sound that may give hint to whatever the hell is happening.

there’s a commotion that you can hear happening, the door swings open, the hinges creaking along with it—this whole surreal experience feels a little like the confrontation part of a horror movie, the helpless victim hiding and the heavy footfalls of the killer.

though in your case, it’s not one set of footsteps, but two.

“what are you two doing here?”

“you’re the one who called us over, remember?” you can recognize the band’s shut-in pianist’s voice from anywhere. “you were all like, stop skipping practice, seb.”

sam’s voice is oddly pitchy when he responds. “…well, tonight’s no good!”

you hear the other person huff, you strain your ears harder to listen. the huffing person clearly fed up with the strange behavior sam’s putting out right now.

“my mom and vincent are asleep,” he adds hurriedly. “they’d wake up—”

you resist the urge to groan, stifling your mouth under a sweaty palm. jodie was just speaking to him minutes ago, there’s no way they’d buy that. he cannot be a more obvious liar.

thankfully they gloss over the fact. “sam, why are you acting so damn weird?” sebastian asks, straightforward as ever.

“yeah,” the other voice adds. feminine but strong. which you now identify as abigail’s, you hear a pinch of impatience in her voice. “and why are you red? did you sit outside in the snow or something—”

sam chokes, which he tries to conceal as an odd sounding cough. abigail pauses mid-sentence. the shift in the atmosphere is palpable. you screw your eyes shut, hearing the rapid rate of your heartbeat. it’s so loud you’re almost convinced the trio can hear the thumping from your hiding spot under the sheets. this is it, they’re going to discover you.

“oh, oh i see,” abigail grins. “on second thought, i wouldn't risk catching all those germs. i’m feeling starved, let’s hit the saloon, seb.”

the aforementioned man grumbles, seemingly puzzled by the sudden switch in abigail’s attitude. “huh… why?” abigail must have whispered something to him—you can barely hear over the muffle of sam’s blanket comforters. “ugh, alright. fine. you owe us one, sam.”

“oh, of course! mhm, yup,” you cringe at the immense awkwardness of sam’s response, feeling the overwhelming urge to pull out your own hair. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah? now shoo! wouldn’t wanna get you both sick or somethin’…”

“huh?” sebastian replies, rightfully puzzled as they’re forcefully pushed out of the room. “why would we see you tomorrow if you’re sick—”

“well seb,” abigail says smugly. “let’s just say sammy here is taking care of some important business—”

“okay, bye!” you hear the door click shut. to your utter bewilderment, sam shut the door in their faces.

the room is deathly quiet, the air is stagnant and stuffy. once you feel it safe enough, you crane your neck out of the blankets to check over him. to trace any lingering feeling the sudden visit might’ve given him. sam’s got his back rested against the wood of his door, his back slumped.

“i—i wasn’t expecting that,” you say quietly from your hiding spot on his bed. peeking the top half of your face, watching the door carefully. “kinda nerve-wracking.”

and embarrassing.

“i know—i’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “i didn’t expect them coming over.”

“sebastian said you invited them for practice, though.” you point out.

“maybe i did,” he admits, creeping closer to you on the bed, even if he’s guilty and embarrassed. “i totally forgot—i mean, i was really nervous! my mind blanks when i get nervous…”

sam stops right by the side of the bed, as if he’s waiting for your permission to get in with you—in his own bed. and to be perfectly honest, you really want him to.

“kinda ruined the atmosphere too,” he looks away from you, eyes downcast and melancholy. “i had this whole thing planned too, and i, just… ugh…”

your eyes soften. “sam, it’s really fine. okay, maybe a little shocking but you know it’s not enough to scare me away.”

he looks down at you, worried. his eyebrows are ever so slightly pinched—you wish you could run your fingers over it, and smooth it out yourself.

“plus,” you murmur, reaching over the small amount of space between the two of you to clasp his wrist. “i’m not just gonna leave… just tell me what you were going to say—before the… interruption.”

that gives you the final push to gather your courage to tug him into bed with you. sam follows, flopping onto the empty bedding next to you without a fight. for a moment, it’s just the two of you, side by side, slowly huddling closer and closer for warmth.

and sam is warm. he’s practically radiating comfy heat you wish to burrow into—or wrap yourself around. the perfect bed-partner for winter nights like these.

you find yourself becoming addicted to the feeling.

sam angles his body towards you. you on your back and him on his side, it feels intimate and special. and for some reason, it feels familiar—like you’ve always belonged by his side.

“i think you know already,” he tells you, his eyes are not clear in the dim light but you know, there are practically hearts in them. “that i like you.”

you giggle softly. “and i think you know the same about me.”

sam tentatively grasps your hand, the freezing fingertips thawing under his careful touch. the caress of his hand on yours sends tingling electricity down your spine, your whole body feels alert—alive.

he speaks again, but this time his tone is a whisper of what it usually is. “stay awhile?”

“yeah,” you swallow, squeezing his hand in your grip. a small smile on your lips. “yes, i want to.”

“good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkle at the edges so softly and the dimples on his cheeks deepen. there really is no one else who can compare for you. “hey, you’re really cold… let me warm you up?”

you turn to your side, facing him. at this angle, your faces are mere inches apart. you can trace every dip, line and curve of his face, and he yours. your hand tingles with the overwhelming urge to reach for him and squeeze.

“it is cold,” you agree. “i’d very much like that.”

“phew,” he softly sighs. sam drags his fingers up your arm, stopping at your elbow. wherever he touches, a whisper of him lingers on your skin—a bone deep imprint you yearn for him to spread all across your skin.

you roll into him with little to no effort at all. sam drags you to his chest, your ear perched right above his heart, you can hear the steady thump! of his heartbeat from underneath. sam winds his arms around you, intensifying the heat you feel by tenfold—it’s not uncomfortable at all, though. you like it.

your bodies fit perfectly together, just like puzzle pieces. a mess of limbs tangling together. the warmth of him making you shudder in honey-like delight. it feels syrupy and soft and warm wrapped in his arms.

his hand at your back travels downwards, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake you feel even through the thickness of the fabric separating the skin of your back and his fingertips. his hands feel rough and calloused at the small of your back—from playing guitar and his skateboarding incidents—but you enjoy the feeling.

you trail your fingers under the thick fabric of his jacket and shirt, feeling the smooth skin underneath—the action has no deeper meaning than you wanting to feel.

sam’s uncharacteristically quiet. his breaths are slow and long, like he’s on the verge of sleep. yet his arms are wound tight around you—like he never wants to let go of you. your nerves make you feel like a slow simmering soup. warm and slowly cooking over the fire.

you two stay entangled for a while, in comfortable silence. sometime during the night you’ve matched your breathing to his, and he pulled you somehow even closer to his body.

but, a thump comes from his window, a light tapping sound. soft but persistent. the two of you opt to ignore it, in favor of snuggling closer to each other. yet the taps continue, and become louder and faster.

disrupted by the noise, sam mournfully throws the covers from over him to check, untangling himself from your grip. leaving a very him-shaped indent on the bed left in his wake. you groan, sticking your bottom lip out, you miss the warmth of him already.

“oh shit.”

the expletive makes you sit up in his bed, the comforter draping off your middle. you can make out the shape of him even with the dimness of the light—sam’s back is towards you, and if your eyes dare deceive you, he looks like he’s shrinking into himself a tiny bit.

“what is it?” you whisper-shout to him.

he slowly turns to you, wide eyed, his shoulders stiff. sort of resembling a kicked-dog. sam bows down his head—with what you think is shame, for what reason, you can’t tell. rubbing your eyes of sleep, you furrow your brow, craning your neck to look out the window behind him.

abigail and sebastian are there, waving wildly at you. your eyes widen. abigail and sebastian are waving at you with smug smiles plastered on their faces.

your stomach drops for the umpteenth time that night. you honestly feel too horrified to speak.

you bury yourself under the sheets, a feeble attempt to conceal your mortification. so that’s why abigail was playing along with sam’s urgent ramblings—she knew (not that sam was any good at keeping a cool facade, he is totally incapable of lying smoothly). you groan, you feel like a rebellious teenager again, only the part where you get caught and utterly humiliated.

outside, you can hear the loud roaring laughter of the duo through the glass, alongside the awkward, embarrassed chatter of your newly-minted boyfriend. (not technically official, but the title succeeds to relieve your horror by the tiniest bit)

still, you stay put. through the mortification and embarrassment you still stick yourself to sam’s side, or more literally, on his bed—because you know, there’s no other place you’d rather be.

you spare another glance out of the covers at the trio—to your surprise, sam’s beat you to it. looking at you with heart eyes and the most lovesick expression (you’re pretty sure yours looks the same).

you know there’s going to be a lot more explaining to do in the morning. but it doesn’t matter to you, not right now when you’re in sam’s bed on the verge of sleep.

not when you feel so warm.

a/n: shoutout to the ass trio for making an appearance in the fic! i love you abby and seb.

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arcanistsanctum · 4 months ago

Text

‎‎‌‏‏. Reverse:1999 Resource Guide

These are links to some of the archives, lorecrafters and guidemakers that I follow and regard highly for their expertise, dedication, and contributions to the community. Making this list is also for my convenience.

If you know other sources, please share them! I will edit the post and add them here. Maybe one day I will also contribute to transcripts on a separate blog. We don't have enough of such precious records for a heavily lore and story-based game! Feel free to share your lorecrafting website/blog/channel too!

Archives

Websites/Blogsites

Huiji (CN) - CN Fanwiki, written in CN, with consistent updates. Really goated. Gamekee (CN) - Another CN Fanwiki, also written in CN. Some pages may not be updated. Arcanist Sanctum (Global) - That's us! R1999 Logs (Global) - Has some main, event and anecdote story transcripts. Reverse: 1999 Wiki (Global) - EN Fanwiki. They may be behind on working through some profiles, records and transcripts. UTTU Merui (Global and CN) - The website is also WIP. But it is shaping to contain news (including EN translations for CN updates), character profiles, story transcripts, music list, timeline, and I believe recorded CGs too.

Repositories

Myssal's Assets Repository (CN) - In-game assets. It has everything. Myssal just that goated. reverse 1999 png (CN) - PNGs/cutouts telegram. Russian language but you can use character tags by clicking on pinned message. They accept requests, but you probably will have to ask them in Russian. Their cutouts can be accessed and downloaded by going through post comments. Posts with arrows. reverserenders (Global) - official art renders tumblr blog. They accept requests!

Documents

Abyss_Idiot's links (Global) - Transcripts, archives and general lore. Actually lots of records done by several Discord members. May not be updated. As of making this list, I haven't seen anything from 2.0 onwards.

Youtube

八咫烏_Merui (CN & Global) - Event and main story playthroughs without commentary Reverse: 1999 Timekeeper (Global) - They have everything recorded. And I mean everything. Reverse 1999 Archive (Global) - On hiatus (?), they pretty much covered event and main stories up to Notes on Shuori.

Lorecrafting & Story Analysis

Youtube

Apeironite - Pretty chill format. Interesting in-depth analyses. As of now, I don't know any other YT content creator who tackles on game lore as much as he has. FructoseTolerant - While there have yet many Reverse:1999 character analysis content in her channel, once she does post one, it's really good. I recommend watching and listening to her thoughts!

Guidemakers

Websites/Blogsites

Prydwen (CN & Global) - Tierlists, psychube recs and character guides Gnomon (Global) - I am in-love with this website tbh. Has all character information, including sprites! Effect descriptions, material sources and descriptions, resonance build (up to R15), psychube recs, team recs, and very easy to follow guide on how to play each character + rotations! Also has information on series of dusks artefacts and mechanics, reveries in the rain guides, and tips for mane's bulletin! GAAAAAHHH!

Documents

Discord Community Tierlist (CN) - Tierlists, calculators, builds. Likely where most of the global theorycrafting started. bluforest's Scuffed Page for Recommended Resonance Layouts (CN) - Also has resonance codes! Spiritzhl's Unit Build Guide (CN) - Psychubes, resonance, portrays, reveries and euphoria info, critter rehabilitation guide. Arcalive Reverse 1999 (outdated) - Written in KR. Resonance and psychube recommendations, calculators.

Youtube

Jakazin (CN & Global) - Comprehensive character guides Devibul (CN) - Puzzle guides, character showcases Destroth (Global) - Comprehensive character guides, showcases

Useful Tools

Kornblume (CN & Global) - Character planning and summoning history Closure++ (CN) - Planning and calculations, and written in CN. Here's MaTeIriA's guide to using it if you can't understand CN like me. It does have a built-in EN language option but it doesn't work for me. I don't know if it works for you. Depending on your device, you may also have to zoom out to see the entire page. Timekeeper (Global) - Summon tracking

#resource guide #reverse 1999

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pedriache · 6 months ago

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The Wall 𖦹 Jack Hughes !

summary. though you and jack had been together for a little over a year now, you still had your perfectly constructed walls up. your last relationship had been horrible and caused a rift within your self confidence. but jack, jack had been the light in the dark. even when you had your walls up, his presence had light seeping through the tiniest of cracks.

wc. 525+

disclaimers. light angst, mostly fluff, jack being a good listener!!

notes. i’ve never actually written for hockey players b4 since, well, i built this platform on football & f1 mostly but.. hey.. lmk if you’d like more and feel free to req for anyone !!!!!

The sound of water and the faint clicking of dishes filled the kitchen as you stood by the sink, sleeves rolled up, and hands busy. Jack sat on a stool on the other side of the island, chin resting on the butt oh his palms, watching you with the kid of attentiveness that should’ve made you self conscious. But, thankfully, you were too busy to notice.

You were in the midst of talking about a new interest of yours, The Library of Alexandria.

“And then I found this video that went into the details, like every little thing I didn’t even think to realize mattered! And, well, it just completely changed my perspective. I mean who knew that—“ You pause mid-sentence, the realization hitting you like a splash of cold water.

You were rambling, again.

Your ex would’ve rolled his eyes by now. Probably muttering a sarcastic, “are you done yet?” just to make you feel small.

A familiar sense of shame and self-doubt crept in, brushing against the walls you’d been so careful to construct over the past three years. Your hands stilled as you fumbled to regain your grip on the yellow sponge, heat rushing to your face.

Your gaze darted up to your boyfriend cautiously, expecting even the smallest hint of annoyance. All you were met with was a confused Jack. His eyes—the blue so beautiful sometimes you couldn’t stop looking at them—narrowed and face scrunched slightly like he couldn’t understand why you’d suddenly stopped. Then, before you could utter an apology, he slipped off the stool without uttering a word, moving around the island with quiet purpose.

You felt his warmth before you saw him. His arms slid around your waist, pulling you gently into his chest. The kiss he placed on your shoulder was soft but deliberate, the kind of gesture that made any worry you felt dissipate instantly.

And cause a slight fluttering of your heart.

Jack’s chin rested lightly on your shoulder his hair brushing your cheek faintly. “You stopped,” he said simply, voice low and warm on your skin.

You opened your mouth to explain, but Jack reached past you, grabbing his water bottle on the counter and popping the lid open. “You were getting to the best part,” he adds, with a small, reassuring smile as he took a sip. “Keep going.”

Mouth still parted, you watch as Jack just moved to lean against the counter like it was the most normal thing in the world. His blue eyes were still on you, silently encouraging you to continue.

It was so different—he was so different. Where you’d been expecting frustration, Jack offered patience. A whole year of you trying to keep your walls so neatly placed, and he’d been so easy going about the whole thing.

He understood even without in depth details. The cracks in your walls spread a little further, a little deeper—just enough for his light to seep through.

With a small, grateful smile, you picked up where you left off. And Jack’s head tipped to the side, listening to you like your voice was his favorite sound in the world.

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any jack or hockey related posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @sakashq @joaoflms @be11ingham @spidybaby @piastri-fvx

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x gn!reader #jack hughes x fem!reader #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes angst #light angst #mostly fluff #fluff #blurb #hockey #new jersey devils #nj devils #established relationship

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tangyneon · 4 months ago

Text

too busy being yours

Gojo has no need for the sun to break through the dark clouds of rain, when you're standing in front of him, frowning so sweetly at him.

There's nothing brighter than you in his eyes—be they Six, or be they just two—in any case.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader tags: teen!gojo; fluffy and not-too-mildly sappy; lovesick gojo; realisation of feelings; gojo loves you while you tolerate him; he's somewhat obsessed with you but not in a toxic way—yet; very heavy on the 'one-sided enemies to lovers' vibes; word count–2487. warnings: implied bullying—gojo isn't involved!! but that doesn't mean he isn't a warning—the boy very much is, along with his extreme want to be your knight in shining armour and beat the bad guys up. this is a sequel of sorts to 'it was over from the start', but please feel free to treat it as a stand-alone if you wanna!! notes: not me rewriting and reposting one of my most popular works from my old blog—ONCE MORE!!!! the fic title is from "Do I Wanna Know?" by Arctic Monkeys. hope you'll enjoy reading this!! ❤️❤️

Gojo believes, there exist two kinds of people.

One: those who aren't but love to pretend being better than everyone else. And, two: those who aren't, but will do anything to be viewed as the worst in the world—the latter category housing no one but you—

Tingles dancing behind his ribs, down his arms, and right to the tips of his fingers, the boy hums when questioned why he wants to meet you out of all the people he could. That too now, when the sky is darkening from a mix of night and storm. That too—to meet you.

Candy crushed between molars, Gojo grins.

"Let's just say I'm a little curious about her, shall we?"

Then pauses, grin mellowing when he finally feels your cursed energy—if his Six Eyes were working as usual now and weren't fatigued after today's spree of killing curses, maybe he could have determined your location too in a moment or so, and not have had to rely on others for that...

The blinding beacon, which your cursed signature is, brushes soothingly against his exhausted self—he adds, "Also maybe because I'm a little in love with her—she's really sweet, y'know?"

Whatever response he might have been expecting, a scoff is definitely not one of them.

Utahime makes a face. Almost as if she just bit into a lemon... Almost as if she doesn't believe Gojo can fall in love... Almost as if she deems you to be not sweet... That last implication nearly makes him want to throw hands with the girl, opting to ignore the fact that she's Shoko's girlfriend—

But he stops when she jabs a thumb to the corridor to the left.

Your cursed energy caresses his Six Eyes gently. Something burns behind his two eyes. The boy begs his mind to listen to the directions being given to him—the directions to you!!

"Go down this hallway, then turn right at the end. She'll still be in the gardens—" The rest of the sentence doesn't reach Gojo.

Nor does anything else, for that matter.

Nothing does—except for the steady thump! thump! thump! against his ribs and in his ears. And, of course—how did he even forget this—the lodestar your brilliance is to his too impatient self, too stumbling feet, this squally evening as he skids past empty hallways...

Your smile is the first thing the boy notices.

So sweet. So sweet.

It's the sweetest thing Gojo reckons to have ever seen in his life. The pretty little smile carving your lips and illuminating your equally lovely face, as you lie on your stomach on the grass. Legs swaying with the wind. Gaze dancing over the fluttering pages��

Everything changes in a beat—or perhaps even less than that—with your eyes no longer on the book.

They're on him. Drowning him. Suffocating him. Squeezing whatever infinitesimal life left in him after the past three days' missions. Taking every bit of who he is, all for themselves to glare at so sweetly.

Your pretty little smile falls into an adorable frown. "Why are you here, Senpai?"

"Why am i here?" he echoes your ask. Your frown deepens. He grins, brushing his bangs away out of his view. "To see you, of course!! Mind if I take a seat beside you?"

You do mind. Gojo knows, yet doesn't find a fault in you minding him so—shutting your book, you don't waste an extra second to move to sit upright. Nor to scoot away when the boy takes your absence of an answer as an invitation to plop down onto the grass.

Your scowl stays unfazed, he watches, heart lurching and tumbling. Falling onto his back, he shifts to lie on his side, an elbow propped up to support his head, and hums.

"Why do you look so mad, sweet—"

"Please don't call me by such terms," you cut him off, sharp and terse, "And, please don't pretend you don't know why I'm mad—acting like a fool doesn't suit you."

"Acting like a fool doesn't suit you either, darling," The boy replies, not borrowing even a moment to mull over his words. It's honestly so like playing with fire... arguing with you, that is. But he is nothing if not an extremely devoted lover of danger, so he will keep doing whatever he is doing now—plus, don't the two of you appear so 'married couple'-y right now, huh?

He continues—not disturbed, rather delighted by how your features tighten and stiffen: eyes narrowing a touch, lips pursed a pinch. The boy wonders if you know how much you're endearing yourself to him the longer you keep looking at him that way—

He allows his grin to simmer down to a sly twist of lips.

"But i'm not going to question that... your love for your family is pretty cool—" Not really. He finds it boring at best, and stupid at worst. But since it's you... he tries to deem it as neither. "—so whatever amazing plan you've concocted: pretending to be weak, so that you aren't sent to any difficult mission, and you have a 100% chance of staying alive, ANDDD your dear family doesn't have to get sad—"

"Why are you here, senpai?"

Obviously, to see you, silly!!

—is what Gojo should say. Is what Gojo wants to say. But he finds his tongue numb and unmoving; rendered useless by the sight you, your cursed energy, both have become...

If you were a fire before, you're nothing less than a solar flare now.

And the boy loves it. His Six Eyes love it. The boy loves you—

Your brows gather close. His stomach does a flip. Your voice assumes an adorably serious tone, "You didn't come here to ask me out, again, did you, Senpai?"

Did he?

Oh, Gojo doesn't really know.

Maybe he did... he does want to take you to his favourite restaurants. But maybe he didn't... seeing you has been the only thing on his mind ever since he was informed of his mission being in Otsu, Shiga.

Only fifteen kilometres away from the Kyoto Jujutsu Tech—you don't allow him to utter a single syllable in reply, however. Gojo wonders if this is how all your future arguments will be like—he decides it is not that bad.

Not when you lean a little towards him. Narrowed gaze. Earnest tone.

"Look—I know keeping another's secrets is a big deal, and some folks need some sort of... uh, reward for that—but how about this? Instead of me going out on a date with you, why don't I buy you a box of gourmet chocolates? Or a ticket to your favorite band's concert? Or a gift voucher of your favourite clothing store—this is better, isn't it?"

Better... it would have been... if only he was dead set on making you reward him, as you oh so eloquently put it, for keeping your secrets.

But the thing is, he isn't. The boy doesn't want any sort of silly reward from you—he just wants to take you out on a date. Always has, since his eyes met yours few weeks ago and he felt something strange and sweet unfurl within his chest—

Making it seem like a payment for him shutting his mouth about you, was only a tactic. A very cheap tactic, the boy chides himself, looking at the worry etched into the dip of your lips.

Slipping his shades off, he sits up and offers a tiny smile. It feels... too weird... too soft on his lips.

"You do know who you're talking to, don't you?"

It takes you a while to reply—throwing back a question of your own, "Is this you telling me I can't buy a rich guy's silence, Senpai?"

He is. He very much is. But heaven knows why you make it sound this rude—the same as before, you don't stop speaking. Not allowing him squeeze a single word in.

"But everyone likes free stuff, don't they? I mean, I'll be buying all that for you, and you won't have to spend even a single yen..." you heave a sigh. So minute, he almost misses it. But he doesn't 'cause he's pretty much focused his every sense on you—

Exhaling yet another sigh, you ask, "Don't you like freebies, Senpai?"

He does. He very much does. Even more when you say it that way with your cute little frown and exasperated little tone—

"You're too sweet, y'know?" he breathes out, hoping he sounds just as fond as he feels of you now—extremely likely, forever. "I don't get why Utahime doesn't see you to be so."

You make some sort of a noise then.

It isn't quite a chuckle... nor is it a snort... it's very cute, nonetheless.

You hum, "Iori-senpai's the kindest out of everyone here. If she thinks I'm not someone sweet... I don't know but doesn't it ring some sort of warning bell inside your head, hm?"

"Hell no," Gojo mutters in that same instant—a bit miffed at how you refer to Utahime, a quiet respect lacing every letter you say—not-too-little miffed at the implications behind you calling that sharp-tongued girl the kindest here—

For the first time in your company, the boy feels his lips collapse into a frown.

It's something, he realises you realise too, the way your lips part a touch, in something akin surprise... but not the very pleased kind.

He doesn't really think before adding, "The only bells i can hear when I look at you are—" You frown. He bites his tongue. Maybe... he ought to think a bit before speaking...

Chuckling, he continues as if you did not just shoot his soul a look.

"Never mind what I can hear... but the thing is you can never be one who rings warning bells in others' minds—like, hell no!!" he repeats. Letting some force seep into his syllables, into his unwavering stare, fixed on you—on every minute expression you're making—

He really decides to think, however. Softening himself on noting your shaky exhale, your nails digging into the cover of your book—Gojo lets himself borrow a beat before resuming.

Forcing his face into a bright grin when he does so.

"Feel free to text me the names of the dipshits who have ever made you feel bad, by the way—but, don't worry," he adds, the memories of his previous error of ways hitting him in the face.

"I won't ask you out on a date in return for that—I'm just in need of an intensive punching practice, and you will do me a big favour by doing as I asked you to—you will text me, won't ya?"

Yeah. No. Thank you. Fuck you—

You say nothing.

Nothing, nothing, nothing at all.

For a very painfully long ten seconds.

During which you do nothing except look at him—just look, only look. Neither glare nor gape nor gawk—just a quiet, scarily quiet looking—Gojo swears his heart skips a beat when you finally open your mouth.

And inquire, words so slow and soft.

"This isn't some ploy of yours to get my number, right?"

"Hey, no—" he rushes to explain, fuming at himself because how the hell did he fuck up this bad again!?!?—but as is the norm, you do not allow him to speak any more than that. Cutting him off with yet another one of your queries—except this time, it is not too slow.

And more of a statement than a question, now that he thinks about it—"You did not really tell anyone about my secret in these past weeks, did you?"

No, he didn't. Obviously, he didn't.

Gojo Satoru may be several things, but an intentional villain isn't one of them. Something skids across your face when the boy tells you as much—but he finds himself not too sure.

Thanks to the lightning streaking across the sky.

And the torrential rains following not an instant late.

And the way your gaze jumps from him to the sky, to the book in your hold—only to come back to his face. Wide, unblinking, all-consuming for a scanty moment there—

Gojo tries his best not to collapse into the mud when you break into a sprint for cover from the downpour. He tries his best not to follow you as he feels your warmth go farther and farther away, and the boy's Six Eyes stare at the trail of your addictively bright and hot—and they are not talking about just the temperature—cursed energy—

He tries his damnedest best not to shout, overwhelmingly happy and relieved as he realises the rapidly reducing distance between him and your cursed signature.

The thud of your sneakers on the cement floor of the building sounds nothing less than the best music the boy's ever heard. Or, maybe, it is the best music in this whole wide world...

Yet another lightning streaks across the sky. He twists himself around just in time to catch the awe-filled look you offer at its sight—features something out of this realm as your eyes trace its path, not even a bit bothered by the deafening thunder that sounds next—

Gojo thinks he'll die happy if he dies now.

Or, maybe, he'll die later, he changes his stance quickly—on noticing you dash towards him through the mud, face fixed in a deep scowl as you struggle to open an umbrella, and balance a pretty heavy-looking bag off your forearm.

You huff when you reach him.

The boy wonders if it's your finally-open umbrella, or you, who shields him from the numbing cold of the torrential rains—

Crouching down before him, you drop the bag into his lap.

And, exhale a soft sigh. His breath catches in his chest when he spies a hint of something... maybe fondness? curling up the corners of your frown, as you speak.

"Next time you wanna flirt with someone, try not to do that immediately after your missions—it is awfully difficult to get mad at a person if they look just a push away from passing out, y'know?"

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

No—Gojo does not really know.

But as he lets you press the handle of the umbrella into his palm—an odd look flittering over your features before you turn on your heel and hurry back into the school building—and his eyes fall on the contents of the bag you've left with him—

Cans of green tea. Chamomile tea. Dark chocolate. Biscuits. Water—

The boy muses if this is your bid to buy his silence—by giving him enough food and drinks to prevent him from blacking out from sheer exhaustion while on the train ride back to Tokyo...

Oh—it's enough for him to not worry about tonight's dinner as well, he tells himself on finding two cups of instant noodles at the bottom of the bag—

Gojo smiles.

Deciding not only his silence to be yours, but also a part of his heart—although... weren't either of them yours to begin with, huh?

296 notes · View notes

unlimitedlust · 1 year ago

Text

Pretty When You Cry - Noah Sebastian x Reader (+18)

Author’s Note:

Heyy, this was requested by an Anon, I got really excited with their idea and I hope I made justice to it!

Warnings: smut smut smut smut (this one has a lot more smut than the previous ones), handjob, oral f! and m! receiving, p in v, creampie, squirting, dom! Noah.

It’s very late over here, forgive me for any mistakes, please.

W/C: 4.2K

Tag request: @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning

Please let me know if you enjoyed it, it makes my day when you comment on it ❤️❤️❤️ Likes and reblogs also make my day, so feel free to do so!!! Enjoy it!!!

End of Author’s Note

Noah had just got home after months on the road with the boys and the way you missed and craved for him at that point was maddening. But before you could have your alone time with him, you still had to attend the band’s barbecue to wrap up and celebrate the end of the tour.

You begged him for at least a quickie, but he was adamant you’d leave that for after the party because he knew that after such a long time away from you, it wouldn’t be just a quickie.

But you weren’t okay with that. You wanted him and now you were obstinate to have him crawling for you.

So you wore the floral sundress you’d just bought, it hugged your body in all the right places, marking your waist and highlighting your chest, and had a slit on the left side, exposing your leg and thigh at each step. You applied your favorite cologne and a light makeup, and you were ready to go.

Noah eyed you from head to toe as you came down the stairs and gave you a firm slap on your ass as you walked past him towards the door.

“I liked the dress, baby, looks perfect on you” He paid his compliments as you both got into his car.

“Wore it for you, love” You winked at him and landed your left hand on his thigh, like you always did.

But then an idea crept into your head as he hummed a random song distractedly. You moved your hand higher and inwards on his thigh, caressing it with gentle rubs getting closer to his crotch each time.

You felt him tense and his gaze shifted from the road to you for a fraction of second, until he relaxed and settled himself on his seat, allowing and giving you space for whatever you had in mind.

You moved your hand higher and your fingers finally grazed his cock, hard in his shorts with your teasing. You palmed his length over the shorts slowly, impatiency starting to slip off him with a heavy sigh as you circled lightly the pad of your thumb on his sensitive tip.

His knuckles got white on the steering wheel due to how hard he held it while you pulled his shorts down just enough to free his cock, heavy and slapping against his lower belly, the sight making your mouth water and your pussy throb in need.

You spit on your hand and wrapped it around his shaft, slowly dragging it up and down his length, intentionally avoiding his tip, which made him visibly clench his jaw and fight back a frustrated moan as you worked solely on his shaft.

You gathered some saliva and leaned closer to him, making him think you were about to blow him off, but instead, you stopped your mouth inches away from his cock, parted your lips and let your spit drip from your lips to his tip, extra sensitive from being neglected, the light feeling of your saliva dripping and running over it making him buck his hips slightly searching for more.

You giggled seductively as you added your other hand on rubbing him off. One pumping his length, twisting its wrist around it to add an extra layer of pleasure, while the other worked on his head, switching from squishy pumps to just cupping it with the palm of your hand, leisurely rolling and lightly squeezing him, the wave of pleasure from that very specific motion making him break the car abruptly as a nearly guttural moan came from his lungs with the sensitiveness.

Seeing Noah so needy and vulnerable in front of you got you aching between your legs as he begged for you not to stop and threw his head back in pleasure. Thank god you were stuck on some light traffic because at that point Noah had his hands on the headrest of his seat, blunt nails digging on its leather as he buckled his hips forward and came in a long moan, cock twitching, spilling all over your hands as you kept on working on his high.

“That was amazing” He exclaimed breathless as his chest heaved up and down, and he got back into his driving stance while trying to reach out for some cleaning tissues for you, until he, taken by surprise, almost got hard again by watching you lick your hands and fingers clean, a devilish smirk on your lips “Fuck, baby what’s got you like that today?”

“I needed you to fuck the shit out of me before we left, but you decided against it, remember?” You teased him by making a pout with your lips, pretending to be annoyed at him.

Before the traffic light turned green, he pulled your head roughly and kissed you aggressively, in a clear attempt to show you how much he wanted you too. But still, you couldn’t miss the barbecue with the boys.

You arrived there shortly after, Noah’s cheeks were still rosy when you got out of his car and went straight to the backyard’s gate to meet the guys, their laughter could be heard from the street.

It was a warm and sunny afternoon, everyone was enjoying themselves and laughing off the fun moments from the tour while eating good food and having nice cold drinks.

You could feel Noah’s gaze on you from the small group he was gathered in a corner, watching closely everything you did, even the smallest gestures. So you took advantage of that.

Matt had just served a batch of hot dogs in the table next to you and you took one of them, taking it to your mouth, your tongue sliding on the sausage as you drove it in, mayo smearing on the corner of your lips on purpose, so you could sensually lick it off, just as you did on your fingers back in the car, getting Noah ridiculously jealous over a hot dog.

And that’s when you decided you’d tease him at every chance you got.

You could see him trying to avert his gaze from you, but it was pointless, his eyes were always there. You walked to one of the coolers for another beer and turned your back to him as you bent down to grab another bottle, your dress riddening up as you did so, almost revealing what it hid underneath.

At that point he wasn’t just discreetly watching you, he was actively ignoring his conversations and had his eyes trained on you, torn between wanting to fuck you there and then at that very position, and feeling a pang of jealousy because if he was watching that, it meant others could watch it too. On both hypotheses he felt himself getting hard, which made him have to carefully arrange his cock in his shorts so no one saw the on growing boner.

He forced his attention back to whatever random subject Jolly was talking about, trying to think about anything but you so he could quiet down the “situation” inside his shorts.

That’s until you, after a couple of minutes out of his sight, waltzed past him, stealthily depositing your white lace panties on his hand, winking at him as you casually walked back to the group of friends you were in earlier.

Noah swallowed dry and his blood boiled as his cock got fully hard, forcing him to sit down on the couch behind him and immediately grab one of its pillows to cover himself while also saving your underwear in his pocket.

“You okay bro?” Ruffilo asked, aware of his friend’s uneasiness.

“Yeah. My back hurts. Just need to seat for a moment”

You knew by the look on his face he’d make you pay for that later. Not only for getting him all flustered in front of his friends, but especially for walking around in that dress having no panties underneath.

You thought about giving him a break, but when a tray of cupcakes came into your sight you just needed to push his buttons again.

You grabbed two of them and headed straight to Noah, sitting on one his thighs as you gave him one of the cupcakes.

His free hand made its way to slide over the curve of your ass, but you stopped him in his tracks.

“You can look, but you can’t touch” You whispered deviously, giggling in his ear.

“I’mma fuck that attitude out of you when we get out of here” His promise along with his husky tone got you clenching your legs together in anticipation.

As if nothing was happening, Noah took a bite out of his cupcake, frosting smearing the corner of his lips, and before he could himself clean it off, you leaned into him and licked off, your eyes meeting his dark ones as you did it.

“Guess you’ll have to work hard then” You spat back and got off his lap, swaying your hips on your way.

A couple of hours had gone by and you decided to give him some peace, but your previous acts through the event were still lingering on his head, earning you predatory looks you knew you’d “regret” later when he had his way with you, especially every time he felt the lace in his pocket.

It was night already and the barbecue came to an end. You said your goodbyes to everyone and headed home, the ride on your way there silent, but the tension thick in the air and you noticed how Noah drove a lot faster than usual, eager to get home.

He pushed you inside the house and closed the door behind him with a loud bang, his impatience evident in his demanding tone.

“Bedroom. Now.”

“I’m so tired, can’t we leave this for tomorrow?” You teased one last time, faking a yawn, and in the next second he had you pinned on the hallway wall, hands around your neck.

“Quit it. Upstairs. Now. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d fuck that sassiness out of you, so don’t expect any sleep for tonight”

You’d been wet all day in need of him, but having him bark those words at your face had you dripping in anticipation.

He let go of your neck and you quickly obeyed him, practically running up the stairs as he followed closely behind, closing the bedroom door as you got inside.

“On your knees” He commanded, voice husky in lust as he took his shirt off.

You dropped on your knees in front of him, both of you next to a floor to ceiling mirror, allowing you to watch yourselves.

Noah bent down and grabbed you by your jaw, his face inches from yours as he said:

“Got me hard in front of everyone the whole damn day and with that short dress with no panties underneath” You bit your bottom lip at his tone, terribly turned on by him and his imposing, bossy stance “Gonna fuck that pretty mouth of yours so you learn not to do that again”

You tried to kiss him but he stood back up straight and pulled down his shorts, freeing his rock hard manhood in all its glory.

“I’m the one who’ll decide when you can kiss me or not, baby” He had a devilish grin on his lips “But have in mind, you’re the one who started it”

You couldn’t think straight to come up with any sassy remark or any other kind of answer, so you just drove your hands to his cock, only to be stopped midway by a pull on your hair.

“No hands. You’ll have to deal with all of it with your mouth only”

You put your hands on your back as he brings your head closer to his cock, eyes connected, your mouth split open and tongue sticking out to lap him languidly from its base to its tip, swirling your tongue around it before taking it in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around it as your tongue played with the small bundle of nerves on the slit right below his tip on the underside of his cock, making a strangled moan escape from his lips.

You kept on sucking him, driving him deeper into your mouth, making sure to make a “pop” sound every time you pulled out of him completely, only to dive into him again, jaw hurting with his thickness and length, but focused on getting him all the way into your throat, to the point your nose pressed against his pubic area, without the help of your hands.

The vision he had from above was unholy as he kept you still, cock deep in your throat as watched you struggle on keeping him all the way in, a few tears running down your cheeks and spit down your chin in the process, an absolute heaven for him.

Noah tightened the grip on the makeshift ponytail on your hair and started to thrust in and out of your mouth, ruining it as he sped up his pace and intensity, making you take support on his legs as he fucked your face, moaning shamelessly above you.

You knew he was close when his thrusts became erratic and his cock started to twitch on your tongue.

Noah entangled his fingers on the hair on the back side of your head and pulled you backwards, away from him, letting only his tip rest on your tongue as he stroked himself and came on it, some of his spurts missing your tongue and painting your face as you keep your tongue out and mouth wide open for him.

In his eyes you looked like a work of art, all disheveled, makeup running down your face and eyes glazed with lust as you licked and swallowed the cum that stained your lips and your cheeks.

“Good girl” He praised as he hoisted you up and crashed his lips against yours hungrily, tasting himself as he captured your tongue.

He guided you backwards to the bed, stepping out of his shorts on the way, and laid you on it without ever breaking the kiss.

His lips finally left yours and trailed their way down your chin towards your neck, spreading kisses and love bites all over it, making sure to leave his marks, claiming his girl.

While he kept working on your neck sending shivers down your spine, his hands came up to your boobs cupping and fonddling them still covered by the dress, until he finally pulled its front part down and off of you, exposing your hardened nipples and allowing him to explore your breasts further.

He pinched your nipples with his thumbs and index fingers, rolling it between them but not too hard, just enough to make you arch your back, offering more of you as you writhed under him.

You spread your legs wide and thrusted up your hips to meet his own, desperately trying to have the slightest friction on your pussy, but it was no use, Noah immediately brought one of his hands and pinned your hips down on the bed.

“Please” You whined is frustration, clit aching and desperately needing some attention.

“Thought you liked teasing” He sank his teeth on the crook of your neck in response.

Noah soothed his bite with his tongue and kissed his way across your collarbone to your chest, licking its valley before he attached his lips around one of your nipples, gliding his tongue over it to then nibble at it, the stimulation so good you could feel the knot on your pelvis forming only by it.

He shifted his attention between your boobs, repeating the same movements, and you were so concentrated you didn’t see him moving his right hand down to the center of your body.

You gasped audibly when he finally ran his fingers over your slit, collecting your slick to rub it on your clit with feather-like touches at first.

You raked your hands over his tattooed arms and back trying to feel more of him, one of them settling through his silk dark hair, keeping him at your chest level as he still feasted on your boobs, marking their flash with small bites.

Noah pressed harder on your clit with the pads of his fingers and you felt that knot on your lower belly tightening, eager for the long awaited release as Noah, even after all those months away, knew your body more than yourself and pushed all of your right buttons to have you falling apart under his touch.

Your whole body tensed as you got close to your climax, but when you were about to snap it, he stopped and drew his fingers away from you.

“No!” You complained in raw frustration.

Noah giggled evilly at your reaction, the tables had turned and by the mischievous look in his eyes, you knew he’d make you pay for all the teasing you’d put him through.

“You’ll cum only when I allow you to. Understand?”

You nodded flustered as he collected more of your slick with his fingers and drove them to your lips so you could taste yourself. He pushed his inked fingers in your mouth, making you open it wider.

“I want your words”

“Yes”

“Good. Now eyes on me”

His face was on the same level as yours. He braced himself on his arm by the side of your head as he drove his hand back between your legs.

He sank two of his long fingers inside you, stretching your walls and going straight to that spongy spot inside you. He smirked when he saw your breath hitching and your pupils dilating when he started to curl his fingers inside you, rubbing it in a ‘come here’ motion.

Noah knew you loved this and knew how easily you gave in when he reached that very spot, and you only confirmed that when you unwittingly spread your legs even wider, allowing him full and unrestricted access to you.

“Noah please…” You begged, helplessly trying to pull on his short hair as he sped up his pace, taking you up that cliff you’d been craving to jump from.

Your body tensed again and you bit your bottom lip as we kept on fingering you, and when you thought he’d finally make you cum, he stopped again, retrieving his fingers and licking them clean as he laughed at your frustration.

“No” He deadpanned.

Restrained electricity ran through your veins and you felt even more sensitive with all the edging, your body feeling like jelly, even though you hadn’t cum yet.

As he waited for you to come back from your - almost - high, Noah crawled down the bed, pushed the skirt of your dress up and peppered wet kisses on your inner thighs, his lips getting dangerously close to your pussy, to then skip it, just to watch you wriggle above him.

He snaked both of his arms around each of your thighs and brought your pussy inches away from his face. He blew his hot breath over it and lightly ran his nose over your swollen clit as he did so, making you shudder under his hold.

You groaned loudly when you finally felt his tongue run along your slit, lapping up your arousal. He kissed and licked and suckled on your most sensitive spots, making you buck your hips up for even more of that, desperate for the release that’s been denied to you twice already.

Noah sucked on your clit and licked circles on it as he kept it between his lips, and that was it for you, you felt it coming hot and strong inside you, ready to ripple through you, toes curling at it, when he again, pulled away, postponing your release.

And at that point you were desperate, your chest heaved and a couple of tears of both pleasure and frustration streamed down your face because you needed it, you needed it hard, and he was taking it away to punish you.

“Please please please” You begged again while he helped you out of the dress you were still wearing.

“I told you I’d fuck that attitude out of you, didn’t I?” He whispered against your lips as he hovered over you, the tip of his cock lining to your opening as he did so.

“Then please do it”

“Do what?”

“Fuck my pussy” One of his hands went straight to your neck at your words.

“It’s not your pussy baby” He choked you “It’s mine” And pushed himself all the way in in one hard and deep thrust, making you moan loudly at the sudden stretch.

Your nails clawed down his back and you felt completely full as he started to fuck you properly, the hand around your neck adding to the experience as it pressed on the sides of your neck, cutting off part of the flow of oxygen to your brain.

After all those months away from him it felt like heaven having him inside you again, hips slapping harshly against yours as he now fucked you in short thrusts, but hard and deep at each of them, making sure to roll his hips enough so your clit would also be stimulated in the process.

“Fucking missed this” He groaned on your ear, peppering kisses on your neck “Fucking missed you”

“Me too baby.. feel so good inside me” You mumbled back as your walls clenched around him, announcing your orgasm building again in your core.

“Fuck don’t do this, I need to last” He moaned out, visibly holding himself back at your walls squeezing on him.

Changing positions, Noah manhandled you roughly, making you land on your fours, and pulled you by your hips, pushing his cock all the way back in one hard thrust. Stilled inside you, his hands once holding your hips slid down to your waist and then your ribcage, his hard grip pressing your body down on the bed while your ass was still up in the air and bottomed out by him.

He leaned down to your ear and said:

“I want you to cum hard on my cock, can you do that for me?”

“Yes baby” You sighed, breathless and head in overdrive with the new angle he was hitting.

“I want you to clench hard around me, milk me up so I can fill that pretty little pussy, you understand?” His words alone were enough to make you throb around him.

“Y-yes”

“Good”

He got back to his previous position behind you and pinned both your wrists together behind your back as started to fuck you again, in and out in harder and deeper than before, shoving your body forwards at each thrust, making you fight for your own balance as you drooled on the bed sheets, completely cock drunk.

You became a full moaning mess as he railed you like never before. Your denied climax coming back stronger than ever before and heightened by the sounds of his own moans as he drilled you.

You felt your body in flames as the pressure on your pelvis got unbearable and Noah, reading your body, leaned forward and took his hand to your clit. Only this time he wasn’t stopping it.

So it came. You screamed against the sheets as an earth shattering orgasm took over your senses, making you gush over Noah, your whole body shudder and your walls clench hard around his cock as he rode you through it, the feel of him twitching and cumming inside you at the same time only adding to your high as your whole body went numb with the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had on your life.

You were so blind by your high you didn’t realize you’d squirted on Noah, who smiled proudly at you as he pulled out of you, your fluids running down his lower belly and his cum dripping out of your hole.

He buried his face on your sensitive cunt and lapped it up for the last time, collecting his own cum to bring it to your mouth, which you gladly accepted by sticking your tongue out so he could spit it in, kissing you lovingly after.

You shifted your position on the bed, laying facing up the ceiling while Noah went to the bathroom.

He came back moments later with a wet towel and started to take care of you. First he cleaned the smeared makeup on your face and the remnants of spit and cum, kissing tenderly the places he’s just taken care of, then he cleaned the cum oozing from between your legs, kissing your knees once he was done.

After disposing of the towel, he climbed back on the bed with him, pulling you to his embrace as you nuzzled against his chest.

“You have no idea how I missed you, baby, I love you so much” He whispered as he kissed your forehead and held you tightly in his arms.

“I couldn’t stay another second away from you, Noah, you’re a part of me already” You tilted your head up to meet his lips “I’m unable to describe how much I love you too”

You felt dizzy as his heartbeat lulled you into your sleep, until he poked you.

“Uh uh” You looked at him confused as you waited for him to continue “I’m just giving you a break. I meant it when I said we’re not sleeping tonight”

#fanfic #fanfiction #smut #romance #self insert #bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian x you

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goregfx · 3 months ago

Text

MY GO-TO'S FOR EDITING.

I’ve decided to put together a masterlist of the resources I use, since I get asked about them pretty often. If you're somebody who can’t commission resource makers or you’re just wanting to get into editing or creating commissions yourself, I hope this helps.

pinterest. IMPORTANT NOTICE IF YOU UTILIZE THIS: avoid usings people's art; if you can get permission from an artist to use a piece, that's another discussion. Be warned there may also be ai mixed in, which I've personally got a good eye for spotting; i prefer to go by images i've seen long before the ai craze, since i've been on there for a while. your best bet is looking through miscellenous character boards. From there, you can choose images to blend or even make pngs out of, to give unique flare to your edits.

remove.bg + photokit. if you're looking to save time or don't have a way to cutout images manually ( i sometimes like to use my art tablet if I want to be really precise ), these are good ways to make pngs out of images you find, as opposed to png sites. i prefer this because ive caught adware on png sites before, plus there's also a lot of ai on those as well.

for screencaps, i use google images or youtube, since the quality is higher than anything on pinterest...though, psds are what normally cover up quality issues, from what i've learned. then again, it might depend on the psd. IMPORTANT NOTE IF YOU UTILIZE THIS: If you’re using google Images, searching for actual screencaps might lead you to blogs or websites dedicated to capping—many of which ask for credit if you use their content. Also, avoid reposting people's edits or gifs, since those will inevitably show up when searching faceclaim names and similar tags. on the off chance you find free-to-use faceclaim content, be sure to credit if/when asked !

photopea. it's a great alternative for those of us who can't be assed to learn adope, nor can afford it .

I know it doesn't look like much, but this is genuinely my go-to formula. I don't think there's any need for anything over the top. That said, if you guys have better alternatives or anything to add, feel free—this is just based on my own experience.

ADDITIONAL EDITING TIPS: If you find yourself stumped creatively or unsure how to approach using these, I’d recommend breaking down the character or setting you’re working with in terms of aesthetic. What are some keywords or imagery you associate with that muse ? Take a character like h/arry p/otter, for example—focus on individual visuals, important symbols, and signature colors. For him, I’d think of round glasses, lightning bolts, owls, candles, spell books, brooms, etc. Then, take each of those elements and explore them individually. I’d maybe start by looking up “owls” on Pinterest; from there, I might find images that can be turned into pngs. Repeat that process with every vibe or detail that comes to mind. You don’t have to limit yourself to making pngs either—feel free to experiment by blending different images together and building a look from there.

ADDITIONAL UPDATES/RECOMMENDATIONS:

Screencapped ( * will need an account )

VLC Media Player ( * good for screencaps / things you've downloaded from youtube )

#re: editing resources #free to reblog!#for the other anon i got #roleplay help #roleplay resources #roleplay community #rp graphics #rp resources #editing resources #editing tutorial #ish

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yuyu1024 · 1 year ago

Text

Fate

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 mention of blood/violence/drugs/trafficing, trauma, mention of killing, kidnapping, gun, mention of food/eating/weight, cursing, sensual touching, making out smoking, smut (but not this chapter)

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 5.2k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note:

Until you (mini series)

Part 1 - Prisoner

Part 2 - Escape

Part 3 - Twilight

Part 4 - Fate

A/N: again... im really sorry for being a slow writer/update for this mini series🙏🏻 i can't help it. 😭 I do get msgs asking for updates & i feel bad... so sorry 🥹 I try my best to have time to get into the story/characters whenever i have free time. I work full time and have a 2nd job too so it takes all my energy. I'm really... really sorry.😭

But yeaah, thank you for everyone liking my yoongi fanfic. 🖤🫶🏻 thank you for the patience😭

I hope this chapter is okay ♥️

****

(Prologue/Flashback)

"Sshh..." she covers your mouth for you to stay quiet and not make any noise. She reminds you constantly to keep it together or else they will find you. "Just a little bit more, Yoongi." She whispers. "Calm down..."

You try your best to do what she says because you want you guys to survive this. To escape. However you are a kid and you are terrified. And you can't stop yourself from shaking like a twig. Also you are rapidly breathing through your nose. Tears even start to fill your eyes as you look into her eyes.

"You'll be fine..." she says to you. "Noona, will protect you."

"I'm scared..." You whisper grabbing onto her long braided hair.

You two are a few inches apart. If she could only embrace you, she will. However there are metal bars between you two and she is.... injured.

"Me too." She wants to cry to as she must be as scared as you or maybe, more. But since she's the eldest between the two of you she have to be brave for you. "Just go to sleep... I promise... the moment you wake up...when the sun is shining after the storm tonight... we'll be safe... we'll already be at home..."

"P-promise?"

She tries her best to not break down because she knows that she's promising something that's very unrealistic in your situation right now. Both of you are held captives, kidnapped and waiting to be saved.

"I promise." She sniffs "Just hold onto this for now..." she meant her hair and then reaches her hand to you slowly even it's causing too much pain for her. "Go to sleep... Noona will be right here..." the tip of her fingers barely touched your cheek. "I will protect you..." she adds

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[Present]

The silence between you two is very deafening. Even the staffs at the mansion notices how both of you are very distant to each other.

Odd right? They should be used to this situation since Yoongi is the silent type or the one who does not talk that much especially to you.

However for you, maybe this is out of character as every one is not used to you being like this. Well THIS silent anyway.

You usually talk and greet them or make small talks with them or Yoongi even if it's just a random question to make him just...talk. You do anything to make him speak to you. You make small efforts to chase his attention just to get him look back at you per say. Like a dog.

But now, since he made sure to leave you the moment you got vulnerable with him during sex and mentioned a feeling you have, which in the first place you had no idea you have, really hurt you this time. Big time. It is a rejection that you never thought would bother you this much.

"You two are awfully quiet." Mrs. Min says as soon as she puts down her cup of coffee on the table. "You two are both quiet originally... I know... but..." she looks at you and Yoongi back and forth twice. "Did you guys had a fight?"

No one answers.

"Guessing...silence means yes?" Mrs. Min looks at us again, hoping someone will speak up. "What did you do?" She asks Yoongi.

But he didn't open his mouth to speak. He just continued on chewing on his breakfast while his eyes are glued to you.

He has been eyeing you since the two of you left the mansion. He have been silently watching you move along, react and walk from your back. You don't notice it as you are trying to achieve to ignore him completely today. And so far, you are a gold medalist at it. You don't even bat an eye on him.

"Fine... not gonna ask anymore questions..." Mrs. Min gives up. "Anyways, after this lunch... I'll have a meeting with Hannah."

Yoongi flinches, finally reacting and gets interested to whatever his mother is saying. "What for?"

"About the private resort project that she is building... she wants my opinion about what brands to use for the decorations. She have a final lists of candidates of brands and she wants to know my say to it."

"Really...."

"Yes... and as soon as it opens... she says you two can go there... and celebrate... as her gift. Since she missed going to your wedding."

"Celebrate?" You finally spoke after how many years. Even Yoongi whip his head to look at you.

"Yes dear," Mrs. Min smiles so brightly and holds your hand. "You're 2nd anniversary... next month... right?"

"Ah, yes... right." You try to smile it away. But deep inside, you are not looking forward to it.

Why would you? Last year Yoongi didn't even greeted you Happy Anniversary. He probably didn't care back then so why would he care now and celebrate this year? This marriage is nothing to him.

"Is she coming here?" Yoongi asks his mother, changing back the subject to Hannah

"No... I am meeting her at her office."

You are holding on for dear life on your gold medal for 'Ignoring my husband award'. You are so curious to look at him. To see his beautiful face, how he reacts when they talk about her. Hannah. The girl you saw more than a year ago. The girl you saw on the driveway, talking to your husband while she hooked her arms on his'. The girl that Yoongi seems interested about. The girl he seems to.... like.

"How about you guys? What are your plans today after our brunch?" Mrs. Min asks

"Hmm.." he sighs heavily and then takes his phone from the table. "Probably fuck my wife " Yoongi answers nonchalantly making you and Mrs. Min almost choke on nothing. That sentence made you even look at him with wide eyes and red cheeks.

"Omo..." Mrs. Min is too stunned to even comprehend what she just heard. "Well... okay... too much information but..." she then takes a sip of her coffee. "You do you."

"I'm sorry..." you apologize to your mother-in-law.

You are embarassed. This topic should be a private matter. Everyone in the mansion already seem to have the idea what you two do on a regular basis but you do hope that outside, no one has to know.

It's not that you are embarassed of having a sex life. It's normal. Yes. But to have to talk about it to his parents, oh dear god, no.

"Why are you apologizing?" Yoongi's face looks so damn serious. "We are husband and wife right?"

You scowl at Him. You don't like how he acts or portrays like sex is just a hobby for him and it's nothing to be embarassed about. Especially in front of his mother while you are present. He really does not treat you like you have any feelings. He is evil.

"Okay... children...children... don't fight about this... it's okay. You already have issues before we got here so... it's fine." Mrs. Min tries to sooth the situation up.

She's so nice to try. Though she does not know the real reason why there is a huge distance between you two today. It's not that simple. You don't even know if she knows how his son treats you.

***

"Sir." Mr. Kim bows as both Yoongi and you arrives at the driveway, about to leave Mrs. Min's property.

"Get in." He orders you

You glare at him then roll your eyes away. You are in no mood now. You have scowled at him earlier already so why not do it more now that he is irritating you.

"Hold on..." he suddenly grabs you by the arm, stopping you from getting in the car. "Did you just fucking roll your eyes at me?" He scoffs

You try your best to pull your arms from his grip but he is stronger than you. "Let me go." You grunt

"What are you doing?" He asks, "You've been.... acting up lately..."

"I don't know...what you're talking about..." you finally freed yourself from his grip.

"Don't act innocent on me... I know you."

"Know me?" You snap. "How? We barely talked these past two years... You only look for me when you want something done and someone to fuck...besides that, I am nothing to you. So how the fuck will you know me?"

Finally! You've said something. However you can't lie to yourself how terrified you are right now. Your legs are shaking. You have never risen your voice like this before. Not with him. Plus Yoongi is so freaking silent. There was no reaction from him not like Mr. Kim who just coughed because of the sudden tension.

Is he in shock? He must be surprised to hear you speak out after all this time. He had never heard you talk like this before. You can't even read his expression. He is just looking down at you, straight on.

"Ahm... Sir... Miss... I'll leave you two... alone." Mr. Kim finally broke the awkward silence. "Just message me if... we're going home."

You glance at him and bow. Also giving an apologetic look since the situation got a bit serious.

And as soon as Mr. Kim is gone from our sight, Yoongi takes a step forward closer to you, making you back up and your behind bumping on the car. "Is that... what you think?"

You glare up at him. "Yes."

"You think... I don't know you?"

"Yes."

He chuckles. "I know you more than you know..."

You frown. "You only see me when you are horny... you don't even talk to me unless to I ask you... unless you tell me what to do and what not to do... so, how would you know anything about me...?"

He scrunches his face. He looks irritated "I see you more than you think." He mumbles. And then he took a step back and looks at you and watch you tremble,"Do you regret it?" He asks

"W-what? Regret what?"

"The sex... do you regret it?"

"W-what? What do you mean...?"

He then puts both his hands on the car, trapping you between. "Just answer the question... do you hate and regret the sex?"

You look away. "No...."

"Do you want us to stop fucking?"

You sigh heavily. "Why are you focusing on the sex?!?" Your brows are furrowed. You are really showing your frustration. "It's not about the sex, Yoongi! There is nothing wrong with the sex... what I just want is... I just..." you look back at his face and you see an empty expression from him. Does he not get what you are saying or is he ignoring the other parts of what you told him. That the only thing he thinks about is your sex life. "Never mind..." you lower your gaze. "It's not like my opinion matter..."

"Y/N..." Yoongi begins. You look back st him waiting for whatever he's about to say. You think he was about to response to you or maybe say what is on his mind as well. (Maybe.) However, both of you got suddenly distracted by the honk of a black sedan car entering the property.

You have seen that car before. It is familiar. And then when it stops and someone steps out of the car...

"Yoongi?" The woman that came out of the passenger seat, is Hannah. "What are you doing here?"

She is smiling ear to ear. Her smile is as bright as her tear drop pear earrings that is perfectly shown under her tucked bob hair. She's... so pretty.

"Oh... Hi..." she waves at you when she finally notices you

"Hi." You try to smile as brightly as you can.

"You must be Yoongi's beautiful wife." She is sweet. She looks like a friendly and easy going person. "I'm Hannah by the way... I'm Yoongi's friend since we're... toddlers..."

"Nice to meet you." You bow

"What are you doing here? Mother said..."

"Ah... yes... we we're supposed to meet at my office but I just came from another meeting and since we will pass by the house I decided to just meet her now..." she explains

"She must be in her room now.. preparing to meet you."

"Oh. I see... well, I guess I'll just surprise her." She grins. "Are you guys leaving?"

"Yeah... we just had brunch with her..."

Fuck. What is going on?

Just a second ago, you're having a serious confrontation with your husband. You guys are about to talk about the situation between you two. Yes, it may not be the ideal 'talk' but it is a start. But then, here you are. Hannah arrived and stole his full attention. Literally, she have all his eyes and ears. You suddenly became a shadow.

Then you are also hearing Yoongi converse. You are hearing how is he when he's not alone with you. You are hearing a side of him that you are not familiar with. 'Fuck Y/N, stop it.' You say yourself

Maybe, you just need to stop. Just stop complaining about his attention and him not liking you. Maybe he is not the problem. Maybe.. it's you? They forced him to marry and got stucked with you. YOU are the problem. You are NOT the person he wanted to marry. You just got selected just because.

You are the problem. As always. Like what everybody says to you.

"I'll just email you my thoughts after..." Hannah says

"Why not discuss it now?" Yoongi suggests

"Hmm...but you're about to leave..." she glances at you

"It's okay." Yoongi then pulls out his phone and messages someone. "I asked Mr. Kim to come... wait for him... I'll be quick." He says to you

You look at him for a second before you turn your back on him. "Sure." You sound lifeless. You sounded like you've given up already.

"Y-yoongi... you're going to make her wait?" She whispers to him but you care definitely hear it

"Let's make it quick. I don't want to work over the weekend."

He's more worried of working on the weekend but not making you stay and wait all alone.

They start to walk away. You could see their reflection through the windows of the car.

They left you alone.

He left you alone.

Then as you are standing there, waiting for Mr. Kim to come back, you slightly bend over your torso, holding onto the yourself as soon as you felt a little uncomfortable feeling on your lower abdomen. It's not painful but it is a bit of discomfort.

"Fuck..." you hiss under your breathe.

You should be careful now. Atleast until it's fully confirmed. Yes, you are pregnant. Well, that's what the PT told you a few days ago.

You took the test, in your bathroom, scared and shaking like a twig. You have never felt this terrified in your life. Ever. And the freaking 3mins of waiting felt like forever whilst you are in there, sitting on the floor.

But yeah, after the torture of waiting, the test did show two lines. It was a faint but it is positive. And during that moment, your world suddenly stopped spinning. You had to gather your thoughts and emotion within the span of 30mins that you have. (Because your maid will enter your bathroom to help you get ready after 30mins). That was one other toture you had to endure. And to add more spice on this never ending problem is that you were all ALONE. You had no one to hold hands or hug for moral support.

You are, all by yourself.

After testing, you did processed the result in your mind and managed to get back right to reality and decide by yourself to be... okay. To take it as another good day. Because this is not something bad. It is a miracle. It's a life.

Though, you can't lie. It was a whirlwind of emotion. And you don't know what to feel yet about it. You are not even sure if you are able to share it with anyone, even Yoongi since you still need to see a doctor to really confirm it.

Confirmation.

You fucking need that final 'yes you are pregnant'. Because your further decisions in life will revovle around that one thing. Decisions that might affect this marriage and basically affect your whole life. So, you really have to find a way to get a doctor's appointment in secret. For now...

"Miss?" Mr. Kim arrives and sees you slouching, "Is everything alright?"

You turn around, stands up straight and smile. "Yes..."

"Are you hurt?" He asks

"I'm fine... but I just think... my stomach feels heavy a bit from eating... I did ate quite a bit." You lie.

"Okay, let me bring you home quick so you could rest." He says

"Thank you."

****

[Yoongi's side]

Yoongi can't sleep. He got home earlier just an hour after Y/N got home. He asked the maids to call her, to have dinner with him, but unfortunately Y/N was already fast asleep.

He waited for her to wake up from what he thinks is just a quick nap. But whenever he asks the maid if she's up, they just shake their head and say sorry.

They fought. He thinks. It felt like they fought. It's his first time hearing her talk to him like that. She have been always timid and her patience with him is very long. However, she finally have had it.

How can you make your wife, who is clearly showing you that she's falling in love with you, start to hate you?

Well, Yoongi knows what he did and is doing to her. He is very controlling, cold and distant. And these are the traits that can't be part of your life especially of you are married. However, this is how he is. As a child no, but ever since the incident happen fifteen years ago, the trauma and the life he had to put through made him, This.

Outsiders might call him as the devil or the punisher of the Min Family because of all the work he is doing inside the office and outside. He is a fighter and his hands are always covered with blood. Though what he's doing is not a crime. The Min's business is not illegal. They control everything that they can do end everything that is illegal in the most legal way possible. If that makes sense.

They were just a business before. A typical rich family. But yeah, since what had happened to them years ago, they changed their rules and how they do it now.

And that's why Yoongi have this cold exterior. He needs to show to everyone who's watching him that he can't falter. That no one could try to even break him like how those monsters break his father. How those monster took them and made them hostages.

10 million. That's all it takes, for some uneducated humans do the most horrendous thing in this world. To hurt and kill an innocent child. A 16yrs old girl and a 14yr old boy.

Their parents were willing to give the money and even more, just for them to surrender their children. However, the fear in them when they know that the children saw their faces, made them decide to end it all.

Yuna, his older sister, sacrificed her life to save Yoongi. She is one brave young lady. She managed to push his brother just in time to fall on the edge, to roll down small hill and get away through the woods. She got shot and died on the spot. Yoongi saw everything but didn't had the time to grieve then and there because he had to survive yet. To run.

It took two more days before he was found. How he survived? No one knows. But since that day, the happy and cheerful little boy grew up and became the cold Yoongi everyone knows now.

He knows that what he have been through is not an excuse to treat his wife so coldy like this. She was only forced the marry him. She didn't even know him. Which is his fault as well because he didn't allow her to enter his bubble. Up to now...

However, through all the times that he have been with her little by little, as per his therapist's words, 'You are slowly breaking.' She said.

She said that before, whenever she asks him about his wife. He is usually nonchalant or indifferent. Like he's just talking about someone he randomly met. But then one day, the therapists said, she saw a glimpse of change in his eyes the moment she asks about his wife. His expression is the same but his eyes started to shift like he's thinking about it more before he speaks.

'You care. You just don't know how to show it' she said to him.

At first, When Yoongi heard that from his therapist, he got worried. Not because He is starting to have this feeling for his wife. No. His wife is never and will never be a bad thing that happened to his life. He is worried because, what if he breaks his cold exterious and somewhere out there in the world takes advantage of it and what happened years ago will happen again?

That is his only concern. That is why, he added more men. That's why Y/N can't leavr a house alone. That's why he always tracks her phone wherever she is. That's why he can't sleep without know if she is fine or not.

If only... he never had these issues, these traumas from the past, maybe... it's easier.

"Please... don't quit on me..." he says out loud as he closes his eyes, imagining the smiling face of his wife. "Don't... leave me..." he mutters

****

After what it seems like a very, very long day for you you're finally home. You are so tired that the first thing you did after getting changed is sleep. It feels like this is the longest you've slept in like forever.

You keep turning and waking up every now and then but your body kept forcing you to not wake up. It's like its telling you that you needed this. After all of the worrying you have been having these past few days. This sleep is for you.

But then maybe after hour five of sleeping, you felt something cold touch your skin. It didn't sting. It oddly felt good.

Slowly opening your eyes, you see a blurred figure in front of you. He's so close that you could actually smell his scent. The smell of baby powder.

"Yoongi?" You ask softly as your eyes slowly adjusted to the little light of your lamp shade. But no one answered back. You then rub your eyes to wake yourself up a bit more. Just to be surez you saw what you saw.

No one. There's no one there.

"Did I... just dream about him?" You ask, looking at the ceiling. "But I swear..." you trail off. "How funny... even in my dream... I see him..."

But you swear you smelled his scent. Your imagination of him is getting stronger. Your memory of him is getting move vivid. Even the smell now. That's how longing you are of him.

You miss him. Even though he is there you miss him. Oddly, you miss the time that both of you are just sitting down together in his home office and just reading. You miss casually asking him questions. You miss hearing him talk even though he's talking about his work and not to you. You miss him even though you just saw him earlier. Even though... he hurt you.

His scent. The scent you really, really like. His smell whenever you two have sex. It's not strong but it's there. Whenever you close your eyes and drift away from the high, you know you are okay as long as you could smell and hear him.

Fuck. Is this how being in love is?

Just thinking about him makes you want to cry. You are frustrated at him but at the same time frustrated to yourself as well. Why is communicating is so hard? You know that's the issue. Both of you are not good with talking nor expressing yourselves. Well, that's what Taehyun told you earlier.

Yeah, you went on a side trip earlier before going home, to meet your friend at his work. You needed someone to talk to and you know Taehyung is always there ready to listen to you.

You poured your heart out earlier, crying and all. You were sorry for disturbing him at work but you needed that cry and that hug. You had to told him your feelings about Yoongi. You have to say it out loud for you to truely understand the situation and yourself.

You needed someone's opinion to point out the obvious so it could stick in to your brain.

Growing up to a family where your opinion does not matter took a toll on you as well. Especially to an adoptive family. A family that only needed you for money.

To them, you always feel left out and does not deserve a voice. They always tell you that they only gave you a roof above your head and food to eat because you are what they needed. A piggy bank.

Your parents died in an accident years ago, when you are just 12yrs old. There was a police chase in the highway that rainy day. Every one is on high alert and giving way. But well, the criminals weren't exactly running away and trying to avoid cars. They hit quite a few vehicles during the chase and one of them was your parent's. The crash caused an explosion, killing them in an instant.

And like any drama stories on TV, yout aunt took you in because of your parent's insurance. They are not big but it is a decent amount. However, they could not actually touch it since it is saved for your education that's why the first month of you staying with them was torture. They beat you, make you work and starve you from time to time because they said, 'you don't deserve to eat unless you work for it'.

One reason why starving yourself was easy for you when you need to.

But then things changed a bit when someone knocked on the door one day and gave your adoptive parents a good amount of money. You remember the man saying 'this is for the trouble and lost we caused your family during our battle for saving our children.' You do remember you aunt, being a good actress that day, crying and all. You even saw them be in a good mood. Everyday because of that money. So since then, whenever you have a part time job or one good seasonal job, you save up and give it to them.

You do this not because you want them to be happy. You do this because you wanted peace for yourself. They will not hurt you if you give them what they need.

This is one reason too why you accepted this marriage. Even though, you know you will have trials too. But atleast you know, no one is going to hurt you physically anymore.

Though, you are having troubles now too.... it is still different. Like you said, it is the communication.

Is it all Yoongi's fault? No. Taehyung said that maybe, since I'm very submissive and him being very dominant, grew up giving orders or not listening to anyone because he is who he is, it affected the talking part in the relationship. Though he cannot say that it is a hundred percent fact. Because he explain, everyone have different stories of growing up and these affects every facet of their whole being when they get old.

Well, that's what you got from all his talk. Half of it, you are numb from all the crying and can't hear properly.

Though that talk with Taehyung,you needed that. Now all you have to do is talk to Yoongi.

If.... you have the courage too.

It is so hard to start a conversation not knowing how he feels about you. It is scary and a risk. But you are hoping it will turn out good especially now that you are expecting.

"Oh, right! The result!" You got up immediately and grab your phone.

You visited Taehyung in the hospital and he got to help you get a blood test to confirm. You forgot to talk to him about the result because you two are busy with doing friend therapy. He said, he'll just email you the result.

But then as you were scrolling scrolling through your emails your stomach growls. "I'm hungry..." you mumble and pause. "Taehyung said that if I am really pregnant... I need to eat properly now..."

And you haven't eaten dinner since you just slept since you came home. You need to eat.

Looking at the time it's pass 10pm already. Everyone must be asleep now or getting to bed so you must go and make yourself food yourself.

"Just one toast." You say as you push your blanket away. "Or two..."

You walk along the hallways as quietly as you can and then take the stairs instead of the elevator, going to the upper ground, so you could not disturb anyone.

There is still minimal light coming from the kitchen area. 'Maybe someone is still there?' You thought to yourself and hoping it is one of the maids so they could help you grab the things in the pantry. Since you don't really know how they organize it.

But then the second you turn to the corner, to enter the doorway

"Ah!" You hit your head first at something. Or at someone

Then after collecting yourself from bumping on someone, you look up to see who it was. "Sorry, I wasn't looking at--"

Fuck! It's not Yoongi nor anyone of the staff.

You tried to run back and scream but it was too late. He was quick to cover your mouth with a cloth. A scented cloth. The smell quickly pierced your nostrils and immediately made you feel dizzy and sleepy.

You are barely awake but you know he carried you over his shoulder. You could see the floor and the lights slowly to flicker. You are about to loose it.

'Help... Someone.... Yoongi... please...' You say to yourself before totally loosing consciousness.

-----

Taglist based on the replies last post 🖤

@gaby-93 @goodbyetwenty @baechugff

@amyz78 @qeen123 @armystay89 @bangtannie7 @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @corruptedmistress @ot72025 @cheezwiz

@xkh0 @eli-deville

#yuyu1024 #bts min yoongi #bts yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #mafia yoongi #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #bts x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop au #mafia au

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 10 months ago

Text

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 5

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 5 🔞

Word Count: 7361

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Guys this chapter is biiiig! I'm so sorry. But I didn't want to cut it short and remove such a fun interaction at the end... It has a lot of important information going on but it's a bit NSFW, k? Not too explicit, but still... 🔞

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil

Masterlist

You barely see Law after that encounter because of your conflicting schedules. He texts you the details for the wedding, stressing the need to dress to impress and tries to offer you money to buy dresses but you refuse vehemently saying there’s no need.

You have a friend with the classiest, sluttiest closet you've ever known: Nami.

She, however, forces you to buy new lingerie to go with the dresses because there's no way you can wear satin with granny panties underneath. Only sultry lace. You almost think you got away with not telling her who your date for the wedding would be, but you bump into Kaya and Usopp, and learn that Law informed Kaya of his absence because of a wedding he's going to attend.

Nami can add two and two.

And she does it in front of Kaya and Usopp which renders the rest of your afternoon useless while you are teased relentlessly.

On the plus side, Nami's dresses are really beautiful, fit you perfectly and you both find the perfect colours to complement your complexion. You pack extra dresses, just in case.

And extra panties.

Law tells you that you're to leave Friday morning because you have to be at the Donquixote household in the afternoon and the drive to the city still takes a while - you manage to do extra hours at work on Thursday to compensate for your absence. You'll sleep there for three nights, the rehearsal dinner is on Saturday, the wedding and reception are on Sunday, and then you’ll come back Monday morning - you'll compensate for those hours on Tuesday.

That means you'll spend about four days pretending to be Law's girlfriend.

After the heated moment you had while practising, you're feeling both apprehensive and excited about the prospect. You've had a taste of what he's been telling you, how rewarding it can be to let go of your control, to let someone else take over. It felt good, freeing and so pleasurable.

And he barely even showed you the tip of the iceberg.

You're aching for more of his relentless teasing, you're pretty sure you can kiss him faster this time. You just want to taste him again.

Sighing, you decide to finish packing. It's going to be a long weekend. As you take the dresses out of the bag Nami put them in, your eyes widen at the unexpected surprise she left there.

A box of condoms.

Sneaky Nami. Does she think she's witty and funny?

Joke's on her, you're taking them anyway!

Deep down, you're hoping you get to use them.

-*-

Law greets you normally from inside the car, as if nothing happened and he wasn't probing your throat with his tongue earlier this week.

You, on the other hand, immediately lose it at the sight of his smirk.

Fuck. He knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He knows he's got you wrapped around his little finger. And that's why you're not going to make this easy on him.

“Hi.”

You exclaim tensely as you approach the car, already struggling to figure out how to open the door to his sleek, black Tesla. Yet, Law doesn't give you any time to make a fool of yourself as he gets out of the car and opens the door for you. You can't help but notice how casual and sexy he looks. Black jeans and a yellow t-shirt, paired with expensive sunglasses that fit him like he’s a movie star - that's the whole look, and it drives you crazy.

He sees you checking him out, so he leans in and places a soft kiss on your cheek as his hand grips your waist, pulling you towards him. “Hi, sweetheart, you look gorgeous.”

Freezing in place, you feel your cheeks burning from the intimacy of his greeting. Your father watches you both from the porch, coffee mug in hand and a silly grin on his face.

“How are you doing, Mr. S.?” Law's eyes barely leave yours, an amused glint making them twinkle and sparkle.

“Oh, I'm mighty fine! I'm greatly enjoying the show!” Shanks replies, his shit-eating grin still in place and you already regret sharing with him what you were doing this weekend. Truth be told, you didn't exactly tell him you were going as Law's girlfriend, you just said you were going as his date, in a friendly manner, so Law could avoid his uncle. But after the way the doctor greeted you, you're sure your father now firmly believes there's more than friendship between you.

You mumble curses at both men as Law lets go of you to place your bags in the trunk of the car. Then he lays your dresses neatly in the backseat, near his suits, so they don't wrinkle too much.

“Bug, be careful!” Shanks admonishes from the porch.

“Yes, yes, I will! Call if you need anything.” You say, mostly out of habit more than anything else, because your father would be much better off calling Ace or Beckman if he needed immediate assistance since you'll be far away.

“I won't. Have fun!” You wave him goodbye as you enter the car and Law closes your door, but you watch as his grin widens. “Law, take care of my baby girl, will you?”

Law then closes the backdoor of the car and chuckles. “Sure will, Mr. S.” He waves and enters the car, taking his seat and burning you with his amber gaze and sexy smirk. His hand lands on your exposed thigh and he squeezes softly. “I'll take good care of her.” He whispers, earning a muffled gasp as you purse your lips to contain the incriminating sound.

As he chuckles again, fastens his seat belt, and inputs the new destination into the GPS, you take a deep breath, steadying your heart rate. You're determined to not let him hold the same control over you as he did the other day.

Very determined.

But as he backs the car away, completely disregarding the cameras on the dash and placing his tattooed bare arm behind your seat to look back - dark, tinted sunglasses in place and an unreadable expression - you sigh and close your eyes, your determination leaving you in a heartbeat.

This is going to be a long ride.

-*-

As soon as he enters the interstate, you fish out your tablet from your purse, turning it on and adjusting the brightness so you can read the screen.

“You're really going to ignore me? Am I less interesting than all your book boyfriends?” He says, eyes fixed on the road since there's a bit of traffic.

You try to hide a small blush by adjusting your sunglasses. He's not right. He's way more interesting than any book boyfriend. He's real.

“I'm not going to read.” You ignore his comment, trying to steer away from every chance he gets to gain the upper hand. “I'm opening our list so we can cover the important questions that were left unanswered the other day. Since it's a long ride, we can study. And maybe make up a story about how we met and fell in love. A believable one.” You mumble.

Law scoffs. “Again with that list. Fine, if we must.”

“We must.” You reinforce your statement. “We still haven't covered our personal stories… maybe that's important? It could come up.”

You glance at him and notice that familiar crease forming in the middle of his eyebrows. You know he moved in with his uncles at ten but you have no idea how his parents died, and that's something a girlfriend would know. You’ve shared everything about your parents and their divorce with him already, but there's still your story about Ichiji, which you're not so keen on sharing.

He sighs deeply, his face falling into that stoic expression. “Later. Also, why do we need a love story? Isn't ours perfect?”

The tablet you're holding almost falls to the ground as your head whips to the side. “Ours? What do you mean?”

The smirk returns as his foot presses the gas and he passes two slow cars in the right lane. “You're the daughter of my surgery patient. As soon as I laid eyes on you, I knew you were special. When you passed out in my office while yelling at me, I was certain. When you fumbled and made a fool of yourself just because I was examining you, I knew there was no way out of it. When your expression intensified as I called you a ‘good girl’, I was deeply ensnared. The rest came naturally. I helped your father, we got close, we fell in love.”

You're staring at him, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. Is this how he feels? Or is this pretence? Because the way he told the story was really believable. The thrumming of your heart is slower and steadier than when he's teasing you, something much more grounding than the usual feeling, but no less intense.

“What do you think? Is it believable enough or should I add more details?”

Oh… It’s not real.

“No,” You clear your throat, “it's perfect. Everyone will buy it.”

You did.

-*-

“There's another important thing we still haven't discussed. I don't think you covered it in your professional-looking spreadsheet.” Law says when you're taking a break from asking him questions, trying to memorise some of his answers so you don't slip up when it really matters.

He sounds serious, so you take your eyes off your tablet to look at him. “Oh? I covered everything.” You say with a slight edge.

Law's low chuckle is not condescending. “Yes, you covered daily things, information, wants and hopes for the future.” He takes his eyes off the road for a second to look you in the eyes. “You didn't cover boundaries.”

Your mind instantly takes you to the heated moment you shared when he kissed you. If you had any boundaries set then, would he still have done it? You don't want to go without his touch.

It's far too addictive.

“Oh. That.”

“Yeah, that. It's important. What are your boundaries? What is off the table? Besides sex, obviously. We don't need to do it to fool anyone.” You lock your tablet, fixing your eyes on the road ahead and pondering. He's right, sex is a big boundary. But what are your other boundaries?

“Well… I… I don't mind doing what we did in your house.” Why does your voice sound so small?

“Speak up, sweetheart, don't be afraid to tell me what you want.” He uses that commanding tone that sends shivers down your spine and twists your stomach.

Taking a deep breath, you steady your voice, fixing your eyes on the licence plate of the car in front of you. “I think we should kiss… because of appearances… and I like all the teasing, and the touching… I don't mind having to beg for it.” You whisper again, cheeks ablaze and heart pounding.

“It's nothing to be ashamed of. I also like it when you say please.” Fuck.

“Is the AC on?” You stammer and he chuckles low, setting the AC higher.

“What else?” You open your mouth and close it a few times. This one is a little harder to get out. Law takes a look at you and smirks. “You like it when I call you ‘good girl’, right?”

Fuuuuck! The voice! It's his voice! It makes everything - better! - worse!

“Yes!” The words leave your lips in a hurry and you take a deep breath again. Why is this so hard?

You never had to speak about these things with Ichiji, about what you want or like. You had ‘normal’ sex where he focused on getting himself off. He didn't especially chase your pleasure, not if he wasn't in the mood for foreplay. But this conversation isn't about sex, anyway, it's about boundaries so you should focus!

“How about touching? Where can't I touch you?”

“Erm… Below the waist?” You try, tentatively. Thinking about his hands on your body is already leaving your brain in a puddle of mush.

“So I can't touch your legs?”

“You can!” Another blush creeps in. “And you can touch my butt too…” That sentence comes out as a mumble but he hears it.

“So it's just your vagina I can't touch, right?” He’s amused by your embarrassment and you know it.

“Yes, doctor.” A loud sigh leaves your lips. “How about you? Where can't I touch?” Time to turn the tables!

“Sweetheart, you can't touch me anywhere. I'm in control, remember?” His smirk is unbearable. And unbearably hot.

“That's not fair, Law!”

“You're right, it’s not. But you’ll only touch me if I allow you to, if you’re being good.” He lets out another chuckle, a low rumble. “The same rules as you, then.”

“So I can’t touch your vagina?” The smirk on your lips is teasing and you both share a laugh.

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” A smirk of amusement still lingers on your lips when he asks you the next question. “So everything else is fine? What we did before? The teasing, the touching?” He asks one more time.

“Yes. All of that is fine.” It’s welcomed, even. “Should we… should we save these interactions for when we’re n public?”

“I don’t think we can very well do that in public.” He teases.

“You’re right. Maybe when we feel like it?” You have to admit you relished in the complete surrender of control you experienced the other day. You see yourself getting slowly addicted to that feeling. “I've been thinking and what you did the other day soothed me… I wouldn't mind exploring that… Besides, I think whatever interaction that serves to deepen our pretence is…” Needed, desired, wanted! “Beneficial to our act.”

“Oh.” He sounds surprised. “You want to be spontaneous? Where is your need to control every little situation?”

Your hands fidget with the hem of your dress, straightening it and then picking at a thread as your mind wanders. You’re trying to let go, like he said. Trying to surrender. Trying to let him help you do that. But you don’t quite know how to answer him. You want his help, but you don’t want to impose. You don’t want to force him to help you. Does that even make sense?

You feel it even before you see it. Law’s hand sits on your leg, a bit above the knee and he squeezes. “It’s alright. One step at a time. There’s no rush.”

-*-

The ride keeps going at a steady pace, you fill in the blanks of some seemingly unimportant questions like: ‘when was your first kiss, and with whom?’ or ‘do you want to have kids?’ Meaningless stuff normal couples would talk about. Law gets tired of the questions pretty quickly and just as the GPS indicates that you're about halfway to your destination, he drives the car to a rest area so he can stretch his legs and asks you if you want some coffee.

You couldn't agree more. Your legs feel stiff and your butt aches.

Law puts the car in the fast charger as you both head inside to grab some coffee and use the restroom. Neither of you wants to sit down again, but, conveniently, there are trees surrounding the whole rest area and there's a path connecting the entirety of it, so you both decide to walk it, to pass the time and stretch your legs.

After a few moments, you try again. “About our pasts, Law, as my boyfriend I would have told you all about my ex…” You decide to start, since talking about his parents’ death must be very hard for him.

He nods and glances at you so you know he's listening. “We were together for around four years, having moved in together after one year of dating. He proposed to me last year and we were already planning the wedding, it was pretty serious and I genuinely thought I was in love. He's the son of a very powerful man and I worked for his father at a very prestigious company.” Ichiji's name is at the tip of your tongue, you could just say it. But you're certain Law knows who he is and maybe that's a bit more information than you're willing to share right now. Talking about an anonymous asshole beats talking about someone he can picture doing terrible things to you.

Taking a deep steadying breath after a small sip of coffee, grounds you as you continue, the soft crunch of gravel beneath your feet lending you some sort of comfort. “I found out he was cheating on me and a little research proved he had always been cheating on me, since the beginning, I was just too blind to see it. He was manipulative, controlling and a bit possessive - all in terrible, demeaning and very dangerous ways. He made me feel like it was my fault that he cheated, that I wasn't good enough for him, that I would never be good enough for anybody. Instead of feeling safe around him, I always felt on edge, it was… it was unbearable.”

You don't even realise that you’ve stopped on the path, your eyes fixed somewhere else, not focused on anything. The pain from the past still manages to hinder and hurt you. It's Law's touch that brings you back. His hand on your waist, pulling you to him helps you remove yourself from those hurtful events. He leans his head to your ear and whispers, his breath hot against your shivering skin.

“If this were real, I would make you forget all about that asshole.” His fingers dip against your skin and he grits his teeth. “There's nothing I can do about him now, but I can help you overcome the pain.” You nod slowly, your mind hazy as to what's real or not. “If this were real, I would never make you feel like that. You'd be all I have ever wanted. I would make you see that you're more than enough, that you're everything.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at the intensity of his voice as you feel the familiar prickle of tears in your eyes. Your mind is reeling and your heart is racing again. This is too confusing.

“Law,” you whisper, blinking and taking a small step back but not pulling away from his grasp. “We need some sort of signal, some way to know we're faking or being real. It's too much. I can't handle this, I need a semblance of control.”

He grunts, pulling away from you as his fingers tousle his black hair and you both resume your walk. “You're right.”

“Should it be verbal? Like a safe word? Or something physical?”

“Verbal might be too obvious. Doflamingo is very sharp. We have to use something physical. Not too conspicuous, something of meaning to both of us.” Law looks at you, trying to come up with something. “Do you always wear earrings?”

He eyes your ears, you currently have small hoops on - quite similar to the ones he's wearing. “Usually, yes. I can wear them all weekend, I have different ones to go with the dresses.”

“Okay.” He says as he stops, making you stop too. Then he takes a step closer to you, his hand raising near your ear. “When I'm faking it, I'll start with this.” His fingers touch your ear, twirling your earring as his lips curve upwards. “And then I'll do whatever action I was going to do to pretend. You can do the same to me, I won't take off my earrings either.”

You nod as he drops his hand and you raise yours, to give it a try. Your eyes pierce his and his amber gaze is quite soft. Softer than you've ever seen him. Could it be because of what you shared about Ichiji? Your fingers graze his ear and you notice the way his jaw clenches at the touch.

You haven't touched him like this yet. He's the one who’s been doing all the touching. You just remember feeling his taut muscles against your palms as he was kissing you senseless. But no light touches, no teasing. How will he react further?

Your digits circle the loop of one of his earrings and, as you drop your hand, you let the tip of your nails lightly scratch his neck. He hisses with a deep inhale as he grabs your hand mid-air, to stop you. “Yes, like that. It works.”

You got under his skin.

It's not just you who gets affected by light touches, you can bend him to your will, though you doubt very much he'll ever let you do it.

You resume your walk, but he doesn't let go of your hand. You're too afraid to ask if it's real or fake, but since you both used the signal now, it must be fake.

It's his turn to speak but he doesn't seem willing at all. “Law you don't have to share. Maybe it's something you don't want to say to your girlfriend, it's okay. I'm sure your own family understands how hard it is for you. I would understand too, if this were real.” You give his hand a gentle squeeze and he lets out a deep breath and a slight nod.

Your walk continues in peaceful silence for a while.

“Both my parents were doctors. They were wonderful parents, full of life.” The crease in the middle of his brows is there again, but so is a very tender, longing smile. “I had a younger sister, too. She was very bright and happy.”

Had? Has she passed too? You feel your heart sinking as he continues his story.

“There was a fire, a house fire, something completely accidental. They all died. I was with uncle Cora, he and Doffy were my mother's siblings.” He stops speaking, his jaw clenches and you can feel sweat in his hand. It's the most out of control you've seen him until now and yet, he still seems collected and cool. “That's the gist of it. I moved in with my uncles and the rest is history.”

He has shared the rest with you. About how kind and amiable Cora is and how ruthless and powerful Doffy is. He doesn't seem to fear Doflamingo, it's a lingering respect. But what you sense most when he speaks of him is disgust or resentment. So you realise that he hasn't told you the whole story. There's more to learn about Trafalgar Law. Maybe not about his parents or their death - that seems pretty straightforward - but perhaps some other interactions he's had with Doflamingo while growing up.

He doesn't share and you don't press. If he doesn't feel the need for you to know, it's because it's something he wouldn't share lightly.

“I'm so sorry.” You mutter as you squeeze his hand again.

A few moments pass in silence again and you discard your empty coffee cups in a trash can along the path. The car is in sight and Law's phone tells him it's fully charged so you're ready to go.

“Oh, Law?” He stops near the car to stare at you. “How long should we say we've been dating? It's a pretty important question we need to know. And if it's true, maddening love, we need to have had some time to let it mature and-...”

“Two months. I met you around two and a half months ago. I don't need much more time than that to realise you're special and you're someone I want to be with.” He shrugs as if he's said the most natural thing in the world and opens the car door for you, waiting for you to get inside before closing it.

You can't help but notice that he didn't touch your earrings when he said that.

-*-

Ever since you left the freeway and the GPS timer keeps getting smaller as you approach your destination, Law has been quieter. The flirtatious, teasing demeanour he uses with you has been completely replaced by his normal stoic expression. The crease in his forehead deepens as you approach Donquixote’s household.

You try to engage in small talk, but the only response you get are grunts and nods, so you don't press further. He blasts his music and you don't complain. It might be his way of coping. If it were you in his shoes, you know you'd be close to a panic attack by now, but he's pretty composed, considering.

Only someone who's spent time with him, getting to know him, learning his little tells, can realise he's upset, anxious and nervous. You know his uncle will pick it up immediately.

Law takes a deep sigh as the GPS announces the destination and stops the car in front of a large gate, near the intercom, waiting to be buzzed inside. You look at him, placing your hand on his leg because he's gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles are almost white.

“Hey, I've got you.” You mimic the words he used on you when he was operating on Shanks. His gaze softens and he breathes deeply, his shoulders relaxing a bit as the gates open wide.

Your eyes dart around in awe. You see a grand mansion at the end of the road, but the way there is adorned with trees and flowers of all kinds. The gardens are immense and opulent. Just like the man who owns them. You peek at the top of a few tents on the back of the house, probably where the wedding reception will take place, and the gardens are buzzing with activity. Gardeners polish the last touches on the flowers, while servants make last minute preparations for the decorations. They all seem tense, as if nothing can be out of place.

And if Doflamingo likes control as much as Law does, then there really can't be anything out of place.

Law parks the car as you see two blonde men at the top of the steps leading to the mansion. They're huge. Law is tall, they're taller. He inhales deeply as his eyes meet yours, a glint in them, the crease still parting his brow, and then he touches your earring. “Are you ready?”

You nod and ignore the twists and turns in your stomach, the discomposed rhythm of your heart, the many scenarios in your head where everything goes wrong. Instead, you smile brightly, repeat his gesture and squeeze his hand. “Let's sell this, Law.”

He nods and gets out of the car, you're about to do the same but discover that your door has a child lock. As Law moves around the car to open the door for you, you realise that it serves this single purpose and you can't help but to blush. In four years of your relationship, not once has Ichiji held a door open for you. In less than a week of a fake relationship, Law does it constantly.

He holds out his hand to help you out and you smile sweetly at him, unconsciously passing a hand through your hair to straighten it as you adjust your summer dress. Cora - you assume, since you know the other man is Doflamingo - runs down the steps to greet his nephew, but slips and falls spectacularly, bumping his butt on at least three steps before landing awkwardly on his knees.

Your hands fly to your mouth to stifle a gasp and Law shakes his head as he approaches his uncle.

“Cora… come on! Again?” He admonishes as the blonde man laughs and pats his butt.

“I'm fine, I'm fine.” Law helps him up and both men embrace. It's a long hug during which Cora whispers something to Law, who clenches his teeth and nods, hugging him back.

It's sweet. They really care for each other.

Then Cora sets his eyes on you, they glimmer as he lets go of Law and with one stride, he's by your side, exclaiming your name and holding you in a tight embrace. “Welcome, welcome! It's so nice to meet you! It's been a while since Law brought a girl home!”

Oh… Interesting. He didn't mention any other important relationship, in fact, when you were covering past flings, he told you he doesn't really do the girlfriend thing. He just dates, sometimes. But he apparently had an interesting relationship before.

However, you don't act surprised. You're pretty sure Doflamingo is watching you closely, even though he doesn't make a move to come down the steps. You'll go to him. It's as if he's the King of the mansion and you're just his loyal subjects, bowing to him.

“I'm flattered.” You smile softly as Cora steps back. “What Law and I have is special.” This was a rehearsed phrase. But you deliver it perfectly, looking lovingly at Law, who smiles back at you, his hands in his pockets and sunglasses hanging on his shirt collar.

“I believe you!” He grabs your arm to help you up the stairs, though you sense you'll be the one keeping him from falling, and then he turns to Law and mouths - in what he thinks is a veiled whisper but is anything but that - “She's breathtaking, Law! Well done!”

Law chuckles and shakes his head at his uncle but, as soon as you're all facing Doflamingo’s inquisitive gaze, Law tenses again. Cora leaves you to join his brother's side and Law is instantly connected to you, his hand on your waist, pulling you to him. You notice his fingers digging deeper and harder than any of the times he's grabbed you, but you don't acknowledge his discomfort.

“Well, well, well…” Doflamingo’s voice is deep, commanding and imposing and you can't help the way your hairs bristle when he lets out a low chuckle. “Hello dearest nephew… and how interesting.”

What is supposed to be interesting? You hope he hasn't recognized you from any of the Vinsmokes’ events! Maybe you should have shared with Law who your ex was. It seems like it's something he should know. There’s no point in worrying about it now! You can't let your distress show, especially because Law keeps tensing up by your side, so you have to ground him.

“Good to meet you, sir.” You drawl, a bit embarrassed at the way his piercing gaze hasn't left you since the moment you arrived.

“Oh,” he chuckles again and this time looks at Law, a terrifying grin showing all his teeth. “Polite.” He nods and turns back to you, slightly raising his chin to emphasise your height difference. “Good girl.” He purrs and winks.

What?

You immediately tense up and Law squeezes your waist harder.

“Uncle Doffy, we're really tired from the trip and the car ride. We'll retire and freshen up before dinner. Then we can get to know each other, how about that?” You can sense a slight change in the tone of Law's voice. What was commanding and assertive is now strained and measured. The crease in his forehead is deep and his scowl twists his expression.

“But of course! Come on, come on kids! Let me take you to your room!” Cora takes over as some servants bring in your luggage.

Law starts to walk, dragging you with him and he brushes his lips against your temple in what's supposed to be a loving gesture. His whisper is barely audible: “Relax.” You glance behind and catch Doflamingo still tilting his head. His grin is unsettling and disconcerting and, for the first time since you agreed to do this for Law, you start to doubt yourself. “Real or not, I won't let him hurt you.”

You don't know if he means physically or mentally. Either way, you're not prepared to suffer any attempt. And the way Law says that… It's like he already knows Doflamingo will do something. And that frightens you.

Yet you take a deep breath and try to relax as Law guides you through large maze-like corridors, following Cora until you reach a big white door with golden handles. His uncle opens the door with a smile. “Ta-da!” He exclaims, opening both arms to show you the room.

You stifle a gasp and turn it into a surprised expression. Law squeezes you tighter and smiles at his uncle.

“It's the honeymoon suite for you two lovebirds!” He chuckles and scratches the back of his head. “Well, not quite, we're not a hotel, so it's not really a honeymoon suite, it's a room with some amenities like a jacuzzi in the bathroom and privacy from the other rooms so you can… you know,” He chuckles some more, “talk as loudly as you want without being heard.”

Law groans at his uncle but a tentative chuckle escapes your lips at his attempt to lighten the mood. Your amusement is short-lived, however, as you survey the room. It might be private and away from the other rooms, but it's not that big. There's a huge bed and two cushioned armchairs, a closet, a vanity and a desk. No couch. Just one bed. For both of you.

At least it's a big bed.

“Thank you, Cora. We've got it from here.” Law smiles softly at his uncle and thanks the staff who brought in your luggage. When everyone leaves, he closes the door softly, leaning against it and briefly closing his eyes.

You take a deep breath and set your purse on one of the armchairs. “Well that was intense.”

Law's chuckle starts low and quickly turns into a groan as he looks at you. “I'm sorry, but I can guarantee you he will be much more inconvenient.”

You snort and roll your eyes. “Is that even possible?”

“Trust me, it is.”

You both laugh away the tension of the meeting and, after a brief time, as you're hanging your dresses in the closet, you speak again. “Your uncle Cora is lovely.”

Law is in the bathroom emptying his bag of products on the counter. “He's amazing. He's like a father to me.”

“I could tell.” You mutter. “What are the plans for tonight?”

Law senses the slight tremble in your voice as his head peeks from the bathroom. “Oh? Why? Do you need to rehearse everything beforehand?”

A sigh escapes your lips as you close the closet door to face him. “Considering Doflamingo is breathing down our necks, perhaps it's not a bad idea?”

“It's just a family dinner. Baby 5 will come too, along with the groom. Possibly the groomsmen, bridesmaids and some of Doffy’s associates. I bailed on the last board meeting and I'm pretty sure he'll want to bore me to death with company issues. Also, I predict that Doffy will ask personal questions while Cora will want to know if and when we'll get married and if and when we're gonna have kids.”

Law joins you in the room and you smile at him. “Cora is really sweet.”

Raising an eyebrow, an amused glint dances in his gaze. “Should I be jealous?” His voice drops lower and a snicker curls your lip as a consequence of that. You're feeling bratty.

“Maybe. I do like blondes.” Law grunts, reading immediately into what you're trying to do. “And he's so tall and big. I'm sure he'd make me feel small and-...” Law takes two strides, pushing you gently and pinning you against the closet door. One of his hands rests on the closet beside your head, while the other grabs your chin tightly, tilting it up so you can meet his eyes. “Weak…” You finish your sentence, cheeks already flushed and ablaze.

Law's eyes glint with mischief, but his lips are pursed tight. He uses the hand near your head to brush your earring.

The signal.

“Do I have to remind you of who you belong to?” His voice drawls from his lips, his face is so close that you can feel his hot breath against your skin.

Your fingers graze his earring lightly to use the signal, but his low hum warns you to return your hand where it was. No teasing is allowed on your part. “I was just commenting on how handsome and charming he is. I have eyes.” You know you're playing a part, you know it's fake, but you have no audience. This is for yourselves only. And you can't help the tiny sliver of anxiety tugging at your brain, telling you to keep pushing. Push enough so you can let go.

So you can surrender. You need to surrender.

Law's eyes darken as he presses his body closer to you. You can feel his heat against you, but the fire in his eyes burns ten times hotter.

“You do, but they have to be on me all the time. You don't want to misbehave, do you, sweetheart?” His lips brush the skin of your collarbone, the hand on your chin tilts your head to the side as he nibbles your jaw, his tongue wet and teasing.

Fuck. This is what you wanted, right? Now you have to deal with it.

“You know what happens to bad girls?” His hand lowers as he traces down the middle of your breasts, trailing to your belly, dropping down some more - so close to where you want him, but you know he won’t touch - and then settles on your hip.

“What?” You whisper, dying to know, anticipation making you tremble and shiver.

Or is it his touch that's doing that?

“They don't get what they want.” His teeth graze your earlobe. “They don't get what they need.” His hand raises your dress, fingers curling the fabric as his palm settles against your thigh, eliciting a choked moan from your lips. “They don't get what they crave.” His lips hover yours and you lean forward to capture them but he moves his head back, tutting you in a disapproving manner.

“No, no, sweetheart. No kiss for you. You're being a brat.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as you squirm and press your thighs together. There's a fire burning in your belly that needs to be put out; a devastating thirst that needs quenching.

“I can beg, Law. I can be a good girl.”

Fuck, where did this come from?

The sound he makes is half-grunt, half-growl and it reverberates through his chest, making you gasp as you grab his neck, trying to pull him in for a kiss, trying to erase what your mouth said that your brain doesn't want to acknowledge. However, Law is faster, and stronger. His hands grab yours, pinning them above your head. One big hand of his is enough to hold your wrists, and he's barely using his strength.

He shows you that slightly unhinged grin of his and you mewl at the sight, biting your lower lip. That grin right there, you realise, it's your favourite. “You say one thing sweetheart, and then you do another. We can't have that, can we?”

You shake your head, your eyes pleading for your mouth. Law's free hand returns to your side, he lowers it tantalisingly slowly as his thumb brushes circles on your dress, but his fingers burn so much that it's like they're pressing directly on your skin.

“I told you that bad girls don't get rewarded.” He practically purrs against your ear. He does something sinful with his tongue on your earlobe and you close your eyes in abandon, arching your back and giving way to a wanton moan. His hand clenches your wrists tighter as his unholy tongue continues to tease you. He licks your neck and collarbone, then goes lower towards your cleavage. You can't stop the pants and gasps that escape your lips, making you tremble.

There's a pressing need in your core screaming to be filled, or touched, or teased. Something, anything! But he's adamant about not fulfilling that need.

“I promise I'll be good, Law.” You whisper. “Just…” Touch me. “Kiss me. Please!”

His lips hover over yours as he slots his knee between your legs. You fight the urge to ride his thigh, to grind your core against his taut muscles. You're pretty sure you could come undone from just that. “Is this what you want?” His breath is hot against your lips, his lips barely grazing yours.

But now you know better than to push your luck. You stay still, your eyes nearly watering from the throbbing need.

“Yes! Please.” Your whisper sounds like a prayer, but he's a relentless deity and shows it by pulling back, a smirk curling his lips.

“You don't deserve it, sweetheart. You misbehaved. I warned you.” How can he be this cool and collected while you're falling apart? A mess of quivering bones and frail muscles? His hand grabs the back of your thigh, lifting your leg easily and slotting himself against you, giving you a taste, a sliver of the friction you want - need! “Bad girls are left wanting more.”

He presses further, his hand still groping the back of your thigh, fingers spreading over it. Your mind goes blank. You can feel his length pressed against you, you didn't think he'd do it, is this pushing your boundaries? He’s not touching you. And you want him there! Besides, this is fake.

Right?

But he's doing it. And you desperately want more.

“Bad girls get teased until they can't take it any more.” He bites your lower lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but just enough to jolt you and shake your senses. “If this were real, sweetheart,” he begins, his voice huskier and raspier than ever, needier even, it seems. “I would bend you to my will and have you on the brink of exhaustion, pleads and prayers escaping your lips in mewls and moans, before I took you right here, against this closet, until you begged for release between screams and cries of desperation.”

The image he paints is so real that you almost feel yourself snap, the coil within you starts to unravel as he presses just a bit further, his lips hovering just above yours, his fingers digging into the plushness of your thighs.

“But this is not real, and you've been a very good girl so far.” As his lips finally crash against yours, a soft thrust of his hip pushes him against your clothed clit. The friction of the seams on his jeans hits you just right, and you snap without any kind of warning.

Your back arches and you moan into his kiss like never before as your body clenches and squirms, your leg wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper into you. A freeing, warm sensation fills you, building like a flame, higher and higher and he takes it all. His tongue slides against yours, swallowing your moans as if he needs them to breathe. His hands grip you tight and he's still pressed flush against you.

It's all too much.

It's not enough.

And it's over too soon.

He parts the kiss and you're both left panting. Law doesn't meet your gaze as he removes his hands and composes your dress, pulling back slightly, while ensuring you can stand on your own. Clearly he overdid what he meant to do.

“Are you alright?” He asks, worry lacing his words as you struggle to catch your breath. You should feel embarrassed. You’re in a fake relationship and yet, here you stand, in post-orgasmic bliss wondering if he regrets what just happened. But you’re not ashamed, far from it. You feel free.

“Yes.” Your voice still comes out in shaky gasps, but your legs - though wobbly - manage to sustain you.

Law nods and clears his throat. “I'm… I'm going to take a shower, to get ready for dinner. Unless you want to go first?”

“No, no. You go. I… I need to choose what I’ll wear first and-... you go.”

He nods, turning away from you, walking towards the bathroom, his pace more erratic than usual.

What just happened?

|Chapter 6🔞|

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #op #the meet cute #modern day au #reader x trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #reader insert #law x reader #you x law #law x you #Spotify

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mochie85 · 2 years ago

Note

As part of your 1k celebrations I would like to submit the following prompt for consideration 😁♥️ feel free to bend it to your will.

Your colleague Loki finds himself in your rooms at Stark Tower for (fairly) innocent reasons.

You arrive back unexpectedly. He hides, at first.

✨✨

Fairly Innocent

One Shot Masterlist | Follower Event Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

A/N: I apologize, with my whole heart, that it has taken me this long to finish this request. So long, that I have reached a new milestone since this request was made. But I hope you enjoy it. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Explicit. Smut, hand job, oral (female receiving), slight DOM vibes, voyeurism, shower scene, mention of 'toys'. Happy ending. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Your room was dark and cold. The curtains were shut leaving a small sliver of light shining from the cityscape outside. There was a stillness in the air from being untouched the last two weeks. “Now, where did she put you?” Loki hummed while looking around your room. He wandered in, using the access code you had given him. His prying eyes scanned and noted how orderly you left your room. And even after some time away, the room still smelled like you. Like citrus blooms on a winter morning.

Loki lent you some practice daggers a while ago and was keen to get them back. They were dull and lightweight. Perfect for beginner enthusiasts like the Widow, who wanted to add a new skill to her ledger. Whom Loki had promised to train, alongside you, in Asgardian combat.

Loki rummaged through your bookshelves, thinking you might have stashed them along with your books and souvenirs from your travels. He knew you loved to read. Your voracious appetite for mysteries and novels rivaled his own. He noted Robert Frost and Agatha Christie situated alongside the many romance novels.

Peculiar, he thought. He’d never known you to be interested in such fiction. You two had always discussed classic literature or Asgardian poetry. A Cheshire grin appeared on his face as he took a book with brightly colored Post-it notes sticking out of the top pages. He opened the paperback to a dog-eared page that was clearly read and reread extensively.

Lucy moaned as Cade’s fingers dipped inside her wet pussy. Trills of pleasure ran up her spine, making her unable to stand any longer. He gently stroked her as he whispered on her neck, “Don’t fight it, baby. Let go for me.”

Loki shut the book closed with wide eyes and a wider grin on his face. “Well, well, well. Who knew that the Avenger’s little darling liked to read smut?!” He said to himself looking at the volumes of romance books you had. He was quite impressed by your ability to surprise him. He thought he had you figured out. He might have to tease you about this when you return from your mission.

Loki searched your closet next, but he couldn’t find the daggers. He combed through hangers of clothing and shelves of shoe boxes till he stumbled upon several silk bags with rope tie enclosures. One bag had the length and shape of the daggers he was searching for. How sweet of her to care for the daggers and stash them in a silk purse. Loki opened the bag and reached in but was again surprised at what he found.

He pulled out a black, patent leather collar with a gold buckle. Glistening under the bright closet light, was a heart-shaped tag, hanging from the center. The name ‘Darling’ was inscribed in cursive. Stunned, Loki looked inside the sateen bag and pulled out what he mistook for his daggers- a short, riding crop that matched the patent leather of the collar. Hanging from the handle was a gold chain that had a tag etched, ‘Darling’s Master.’

An intrusive fantasy came unbidden in his mind. It was of you on all fours, with the collar adorning your neck and him standing behind you rubbing the tip of the crop against your dripping heat. “What other deliciousness are you hiding, my dear?” he whispered as he stowed the collar and whip and reached for another silk purse. Every bag he opened had a different set of negligees. Each one was more lascivious than the last.

The smile on his lips got darker as his body started responding to the different scenarios playing in his head. Each scene- novel and unique, to the set of lingerie he opened. More than once, he had to stop himself from reaching inside and rubbing the fine lace between his fingers. “Nope! No,” he chided himself. “Focus. I’m here for the daggers.” Loki took one last look and walked away before he could swipe one of your lace panties and put it in his back pocket like some pervert. “Daggers. Daggers…where are you daggers…”

He couldn’t stop smiling at the revelation he found. Memories of his last interaction with you played in his head under a new context. It was as if he was seeing you in a different light. Truth be told, he did always find you attractive. But he never once pursued it thinking it wouldn’t be favored by you, or any of the team. You didn’t get the title “The Avenger’s Little Darling” for nothing. You were beloved by all. And he was the untrustworthy, extra baggage that the team had to deal with so they could have Thor on their side.

He knew he couldn’t have you.

One last place he looked was your bedside table. If it’s not here, she must have taken them with her. Opening the drawer, Loki shouldn’t have been surprised at what he found, but he felt an exhilarating chill crawl throughout his body, nonetheless. A vibrator. A large, blue, silicone toy that was tapered at the end, was resting neatly inside. You naughty little minx.

Loki couldn’t help the state of arousal he was in. He stood up and stared at your toy, his fingers running puzzled against his lips. He imagined you spread on your bed, lost in the throes of your passion. What do you think about when you have your toy tucked inside your wet cunt? Who’s name do you moan when you’re at the edge of your climax about to fall? And how can he conspire to make sure you think of him?

Surprised, Loki looked up as he heard the keypad of your door unlocking. In a senseless rush, he closed your drawer and cloaked himself invisible. He didn’t want anyone to find him snooping around your belongings. He stood still as he blended with the shadows of your room.

He shouldn’t have hid. You did give him the access code to your room. You trusted him enough to be in here. But there was something so intimate about the things he found. He felt exposed and guilty. Loki didn’t want anyone to think of him being nefarious with you.

A small sigh of relief flooded him when he realized it was you, back from your assignment. He opened his mouth to speak and announce his presence, but he couldn’t. So many questions rushed through his mind. He wanted to ask all of them! Yet, he was struck immovable by your presence.

Had you always been so lovely? Had your eyes always been that bright and alluring? Your smile, an invitation for his lips?

Were his discoveries about you finally shedding light as to who you might be, underneath the perfect façade you seem to have cultivated for yourself? Everything he found was, he swore to the gods, erotic and arousing. But it was the fact that you surprised him that made his level of attraction to you grow.

You walked in with a heavy sigh, setting your duffel bag down on your bed and your boots onto the floor. You didn’t bother turning on your lights, as you zipped your body suit down and peeled off your armor. A rather tame set of black lace underwear shaped your body. Your exposed skin turned a rich shade in the darkness of your room.

Loki noted some bruises and scars peppering your body. The fresh welts were colored green and blue indicating they were recent and most likely acquired from your latest mission. You massaged your neck and rolled your shoulders trying to ease the ache settling into your bones.

Loki watched as you made your way, routinely, to your en suite and turned on the lights. A loud rush of water from the shower rumbled through, disturbing the silence that had enveloped you both. It took his entire strength as a god to keep standing where he was and not follow you to watch.

New fantasies came unbidden in his mind of you naked and wet in the shower. I need to leave. I need to depart before I do something that both of us would regret. He waited till he heard you close your shower door. The water made loud splashes as it hit against different curves of your body.

A few more minutes and Loki found he could move again. With a shaky breath, he exhaled and made his way to your door. He would’ve continued if it weren’t for your small sighs. Soft moans and whimpers traveled to his god-like hearing. She’s touching herself?!

Loki balled his fist to elicit pain. His fingernails dug deep into the pad of his palms, trying to overcome the overwhelming state of arousal he was in.

“…Loki…”

He stopped and nearly fell to his knees. You said his name! The honeyed tones of your moans dripped over him. Coating his entire body in primal need until it reached his cock and hardened.

He couldn’t leave now. He wouldn’t. He turned on his heel and slowly lifted his cloak, risking everything by pushing the door slightly more open.

Loki licked his lips at the sight of you lost in your orgasm. Your head was thrown back as water trickled down your body. The droplets guiding his eyes down…

…down…

…to where your fingers played with your aching cunt. Your hands explored your curves. Every dip. Every hollow. Every scrumptious mound that he wanted to devour himself.

He stood at your en suite door, his arms holding the frame above his head. He didn’t trust himself to come closer to you. Not until you allowed it. Not until you saw how his eyes became ravenous at the sight of you touching yourself to thoughts of him.

“Loki!? What the hell are you doing?” you screamed out, startled. His eyes traveled back up to yours as you finally acknowledged his presence. Your body turned flush from the heat of the water and the embarrassing situation you found yourself in.

Loki freed himself from your door and tried to answer. Nothing came out but a quivering breath and a small growl of desire. His eyes narrowed and he bit his lip. He took a step forward and closed your bathroom door behind him making your heart drop. He slowly made his way to you. Sluggish feet carrying him across your tiled floors. “Don’t stop on my account, Darling.”

“Why are you here?” you demanded.

“I heard you call out my name. And I am nothing if not a benevolent god who answers your prayers.” It was as if a switch was turned on and Loki couldn’t stop until he had you.

He watched you back into the tile of your shower. You looked like a caged animal put there for his viewing pleasure. “Why are you here?!” you repeated. It’s too late to be demure. He’s seen everything.

“I came looking for the daggers I lent you. I looked everywhere in your room. I couldn't find them.” Loki’s voice was deep but clear. You could hear the dangerous desire in his tone as he reached for the door to your shower. On instinct, you reached for the handle, stopping him from opening it.

The chase became real. He had to have you. The last hour he spent combing through your suggestive belongings had built a naughty little version of you in his head. Like a puzzle. It was the most erotically charged moment he’d ever spent. And now? Now, you were denying him!

“Last chance, Darling. If you want me to leave now, say so,” he said with a smile. “But I promise you this. I won’t stop till I have you.” His breath steamed the glass doors. Your heart pounded inside your chest as you looked into his dark eyes.

You let go of the handle and stepped back. Loki opened the door slowly, anticipation building up and pooling in between your thighs. “Good girl.”

Loki walked into your shower, still clothed. The scalding water penetrated through his white cotton shirt making it translucent under the spray. You could trace the lines of his muscle underneath. His hair became slick and affixed itself against his face. He towered over you, as he leaned over with one arm against the shower wall.

Fuck!

He lowered his face. His nose brushed against the tip of yours and you could taste his breath against your lips. “What were you thinking about?” he asked looking deep into your eyes. “And remember, I can tell when you’re lying.”

You quivered at his voice. You looked down embarrassed. “No, no. Look at me.” He said grabbing your chin and forcing you to look back at him. He kept his fingers on your face, gently stroking your jaw.

“I was thinking about you,” you admitted. Your voice was so small. You felt so fragile in his hands.

“Go on, sweet thing. What prayer can your god answer for you tonight?” he encouraged. You were mesmerized by his stare. His voice lulled you to a sense of heat and longing.

“I pictured…touching you,” you started. “I fantasized about your body holding mine.” Loki licked his lips and the tip of his tongue brushed against your mouth. It tingled and the sensation moved throughout your body, awakening every cell within it.

“Like this?” he asked, grabbing your hand gently and placing it underneath his soaked shirt. He guided your hand up his torso and held it there. You could feel his heart thumping in his chest as he guided you over his stiff nipple and then down his lean abs.

Loki didn’t take his eyes off you once. He watched how your eyes widened at his boldness. How your lips parted when you finally touched him. How your whole body moved just a fraction closer to him, capturing him in a lust-filled haze of his own.

He continued steering your hand down his body, past the hem of his pants to his aching bulge. He was big. And hard. You couldn’t imagine what he would look like, what he would feel like, once he took it out. He kept your hand on his cock, driving your hand up and down. “Keep your hand on me,” he instructed. The steam from the shower did little to prevent the shiver that ran down your spine. Nor did it hide the wetness that was now dripping from you.

“Can you feel how hard I am for you?” his arms encircled your body, pulling you closer to him. His mouth incased your lips in an uncontrollable kiss. He weaved his deft fingers into your wet hair, pulling your head back to kiss you at a deeper angle. He inhaled deeply, smelling the clean scent of your soap and shampoo.

He groaned into your mouth when he felt your hand reach inside his pants and squeeze him tightly. Loki’s eyes rolled back as you expertly palmed his stiff cock. You felt the veins pulsing in your fingertips as you pumped his dick mercilessly. He leaned over you, caging you between the wall and his eager body.

“Don’t stop, Darling,” he whimpered in your ear. “Don’t stop.” Loki bucked his hips into your hands. He captured your lips one last time before he moaned your name, releasing the pent-up arousal he’d been holding in. He fell apart in your hands, and you continued till you milked every last drop from him.

Before the water could wash away your efforts, you licked off two of your fingers, tasting his offerings. “There she is,” he said with a devilish grin. He was waiting for the real you to come forth. You seemed so demure and shy at the beginning. Nothing at all like what he found out you were. The one who reads erotic novels over and over again. The one who hides their toy on the bedside table, ready to go. The one who has a patent leather collar with their pet name etched into it.

Loki growled at the memory. He will see you in that collar. He’ll make sure of it. “But for now, I want a taste,” he said to himself. Loki started with your mouth, sampling himself in your kiss. You winced slightly when he reached for your waist. Reacting from a sensitive bruise that you acquired from your mission.

“Do you think your body can handle a couple more bruises from me, Darling?” he asked earnestly. You swallowed thickly and nodded. Loki proceeded to grab your hips and hold you in place, while his mouth eagerly marked your neck. He continued down to the base of your throat as he knelt in front of you. He captured your breasts with his tongue, paying them each attention. Your hands rested on his shoulders, gathering the white cotton in your hands as you fisted it.

When he reached your stomach, he was gentle and sweet. His hands secured your waist, pushing you slightly higher. “Wrap your leg around me,” he directed. You obeyed and placed your left leg on his shoulder.

Drips of water still fell from the shower. Loki licked and slurped each drop that fell onto your thighs. He flattened his tongue and licked a wide stripe on your warm cunt. “Fuck…Loki,” you screamed when he latched onto your nub, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. He looked up at you and watched you as you threw your head back, your ecstasy showing through.

“Did you like that, Darling?”

“Mmyes,” you whined. “God, yes!”

Loki repeated his actions, holding onto your thigh, as he savored your clit. You couldn’t hold yourself up any longer. Your knees were weakening, and you had nothing to hold onto as your hands slipped against the tile of your shower wall. “Loki, please,” you panted.

“I need to be inside you,” he moaned. The sooner he can make you cum in here, the sooner he can properly bed you on top of your sheets. He looked deep into your eyes and you almost didn’t recognize him. Hunger and desperation were hanging on his brows. The sight of him in between your legs, the feel of his lips latching onto your folds, the weight of his fingers thrusting inside you. It was all-encompassing and all too consuming.

“Oh, God! Loki!” you screamed as he inserted another finger. You laced your hand through his drenched hair, pulling every time his tongue flicked your nub. “Please, I need you inside me too. I need…” your breathing came in harsher. The steam almost suffocating you as you come closer and closer to that edge, waiting to fall.

“Don’t fight it, Darling. Let go for me,” Loki quoted your book, making you clench around his fingers. One last thrust into you and you screamed your release. Loki lapped up your swollen pussy with a greedy smile, making you shudder.

Hours later, you and Loki were lying on the floor of your room. Blankets and pillows surround you while your legs and arms tangle with each other, holding each other tightly. You were running your finger up and down his chest as he read aloud a passage from one of your “smutty romance books,” as he called them.

His voice was magnetic and hypnotizing. Every word he said came to life inside your head. “Hmm, we might have to re-enact this one,” he teased after he finished a scene.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, hoping he didn’t hear the last word you said. It just came out. You couldn’t stop yourself from saying it. From bending to his will and wanting to please him.

“I was curious about something,” he grinned, biting his lip. “Which I hope you can enlighten me...”

“Yes?”

“When I was looking for the daggers, I came across this.” He conjured up your patent leather collar and held it up against the dim light. He next conjured up the matching riding crop and showed you the tag that was hanging from the handle. “Who was your master?” Loki asked, unsure whether he wanted to know the answer. “Why do you have this and not them?”

“I never had one,” you admitted sheepishly. “I bought that in hopes of using it one day. But we never worked out.”

“I see,” he said with a devious smirk.

“It was so pretty. I couldn’t just get rid of it.”

“Sit up. Hold your hair, while I put this on you.” You obeyed his instructions. A pool of desire is already forming in between your legs as he tightens the collar around your neck. The heart-shaped tag, ‘Darling’ felt heavy and cold as he placed it neatly on the base of your throat.

Loki wiped his thumb over the tag of the whip. Newly etched, in bold letters, was his name instead. “Well, it’s mine now, darling,” he grinned as he tested the switch on his hand. The sharp thwack stung his palm. Your heart started beating quicker.

“On your knees,” he growled.

“Yes, sir.”

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief ++

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almostempty · 1 year ago

Text

maladaptive coping mechanisms - part 1 (javier x f!reader)

wc: 6.7k | other fics | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 | PART TWO HERE

summary: Looking for an escape from a horrible day, you take a sexy stranger home from the bar.

tags/warnings: drinking, smoking, smut, glorification of substance use as a coping mechanism, using sex to avoid processing emotions, PWP, like mostly just porn and emotions, spit, one (1) pussy slap, pussy pronouns, size kink, sort of pleasuredom!javi, AU unprotected sex has no risks bc i like it that way, piv sex, fingering, creampie

Notes: cigarette vending machines were real, part 2 exists and if one single person asks for it i’ll post it

please leave feedback! open to constructive criticism or delusional inspiration

Thanks: to @auteurdelabre , u know what u did

It’s not enough.

You feel the inescapable temptation racing like wildfire through your veins. Thick, hot air whips your hair into your face, and you laugh, throaty and as loud as a barking German Shepherd with saliva frothing against their teeth. The thought of jerking the wheel and rolling your car into oncoming traffic causes your fingers to twitch. The roar of the semi-truck you pass drowns out everything else, your music, the wind surging through the windows, and your violent intrusive thoughts. You decide not to opt for a head-on collision. Heading towards your side of town, you slow to a less reckless speed, immediately missing the road noise.

The temptation still pounds in your head, unbearable. Something stronger. You need something stronger before you drive to his house and choke on the smoke while you burn it to the ground.

But you’re free! You grin as you race directionless through the streets, the kind of grin that would unsettle a small child. The evening sun blinds you whenever you choose a street facing west, and you welcome the jarring obtrusion, the pain. But driving into the sun isn’t enough.

You pull over at the first parking spot you can see, ripping off your seatbelt and twisting around to dig under your seat. Nails catch on the carpeting, but you only recognize some change, receipts, and a petrified french fry. The muscles in your shoulder could tear from the tendons for all you care as you contort yourself to check under the passenger seat before digging through every compartment you can fit your fingers into.

A cigarette seems healthy in comparison to crashing your car or lighting your ex’s house on fire. You swore there was a forgotten pack of smokes under one of the seats in your car, stashed away in case of emotional emergencies months ago before you committed to quitting. Nate must have found them and tossed them. Of course, he could still keep making this day worse. Even after you’d walked out on him mid-rant about how it was somehow your fault that he’d become even more of a repulsive asshole during the months you’d spent apart. “Hope you’re happy with how you chose to use your last ‘second chance,’” you had spat at him, already halfway to the door. You imagined the look cemented on his face as you left. You hope to never imagine his face again.

Dried tears sting the corners of your eyes. Rubbing at the raw skin burns. You stare at your red eyes in your rearview mirror, and you can see the flicker of your soul nearly snuffed out from the years of despair. Blood pounding in your ears, you roll your head on your shoulders, and popping and grinding noises in your neck add to the symphony of your pulse. Tipping back against the headrest, you refocus and take in your surroundings. A bar. A beacon in the fading golden hour as dusk overtakes her glow.

Bars have cigarettes. A drink, or four, would help, too. You need to feel something else. Find something strong enough to break through the numbness of anger and embarrassment. Something to override your loquacious internal monologue. It’s not enough.

Your demons materialize on your shoulders, prepared to fight your morality. The neon beer signs in the window sing a siren song. Temptation wins in the first round, she’s a seductress not to be outclassed.

The gravel crunches under your feet as you cross the parking lot, kicking up little clouds of dust in your wake. Inside, you swerve between the pool tables, crossing the dimly lit space in a beeline to the cigarette vending machine for a new pack and matches before lasering in on an empty stool at the bar. Tunnel vision.

Cold beer soothes the burn in your throat from the tequila shot you slammed before you even settled your full weight on the barstool. The liquid waterfalls down your throat until the bottle runs dry. The surly bartender replaces it with another, and her eyes flick from yours to the empty shot glass and back.

“I’ll just stick to beer for now,” you answer. A barely perceptible snicker yanks your attention to your right. He’s smirking to himself, trying to hide it with a swig from his bottle. Your scowl softens by a hair as you rake your eyes down his profile. Strong features, sparkling dark eyes, well-groomed, and an open collar that teases you with a glimpse of the skin of his chest. His look piques your interest. But that smug curl of his lip raises your hackles as you return to your mission: a neurochemical intervention. Maybe he knows where you could procure a lobotomy if nicotine and booze don’t help.

You slam the second beer, signaling for another. Your head weighs heavily on your shoulders, but you can start to feel the warmth of the alcohol blooming within your chest. A welcome warmth despite the suffocatingly thick air in the bar. You feel the layer of sweat coating your torso. The skin bared on your thighs sticks to the vinyl stool, but you don’t care about being warm and sticky. Your assignment is simple. Get the liquor to your brain before you recruit Smug Mustache and Silent Barkeep to your crew. She can drive; he can be the lookout. Accomplice to arson shouldn’t be a hard sell.

You smile to yourself at the thought.

The tiny muscles in your face start to relax, and the line between your brows softens. The racing thoughts get quieter, and you can process your environment more easily. The clack of the billiard balls on the pool table, the rock ballad barely audible over the buzz of the patrons. A variety of mostly bald or bearded men occupy different seats, and women with brassy hair and loud laughs hold all the secrets. You and the man seated next to you don’t quite fit the demographic, but nobody seems bothered.

You slide a cigarette out of your pack, and before you tuck it between your lips, the man next to you pushes the amber-colored ashtray he’d been hoarding towards you and offers you a light.

Leaning towards him, you’re hit with an intoxicating rush of spicy aftershave, leather, and tobacco. You seize the opportunity to take in his features head-on, inhaling deeply while he unabashedly sweeps his dark eyes over you in turn. Sinfully dark, they flick back up to yours. He drags his thumb across his bottom lip, and you’re entranced momentarily by the need to feel that plush lip between your teeth.

Sex.

That could work. Ease the restlessness and the deepening impulse to scream. Maybe that’s the third ingredient to your impulsive master plan.

“Thanks,” you exhale, breaking the heady silence. The rush of nicotine entwined with alcohol begins to replace the rage in your veins. Vengeful racing thoughts are replaced with a mantra. A dull pounding in the back of your skull. More. You smile. More. More. He tracks your mouth as you press the cold glass bottle to your lips. You swallow and swallow. He raises one eyebrow, head cocked, as you drain the bottle.

“I’d offer to buy you a drink, but I’m not sure you’d taste it at this rate,” he teases in a voice thick as molasses.

You consider your frenzied rate of consumption. Might be time to slow down.

“Maybe you could convince me to savor it,” you challenge. He nods and orders. He studies your lips as you take another drag from your cigarette. More. He doesn’t shy from holding your gaze. Not when you smile or when you look him up and down again. You usually aren’t so forward. The cocktail of substances and the emotional hangover from your failed reconciliation emboldens you. But, one tiny crack fractures, and for a brief moment, you’re gone.

Your eyes lose focus. Disconnected from your body, the bar, and reality. He watches with amusement. He knows that look. He wears it often.

Your thoughts flash and crack like a lightning storm. Nate’s face. Livid, red, and sputtering foul insults at you. Enraged that you’re drinking, smoking, and desperate to whore yourself out to the first man you see. Worse. You don’t care. Nate wasted your time and shattered your goodwill. You want to be set free. Erase him and his pathetic voice altogether.

You take another sip and another drag, hoping one of them will detach his grubby claws from your conscience. You blink, and the horrifying hallucination is gone.

“Drinking to forget, cariño?” the man you’d been staring past interrupts your thoughts. His tone is genuine. But why? Is that his schtick? Offering to fix broken women with a well-timed light and teasing glance?

“Something like that,” you muse, taking another drag. You hadn’t realized how close you were sat until now. It’s intimate. Smoke curls in a delicate dance between you, alluring as it winds and flares. You feel drawn to him, connected by chance. Something new to focus on. To study. He watches you with such intensity you note. Unwavering. Too sober and too shiny to be a regular old barfly. It’s not a bar full of singles. He’s out of place. Maybe he got lost along a warpath like you. Good. More.

He’s still watching. Waiting for you to elaborate? You let your knee slide forward until it’s pressing into his firm thigh. “Just trying to feel something,” you answer honestly.

“Mm,” he takes another swig, and you watch his neck in slow motion as he swallows.

“And you?”

“Same goal, I guess,” he confirms. His hand drags slowly down his thigh and slides onto your knee. Your mouth parts at the contact of his palm. A new fire rips through your veins, but it’s not rage. More.

“Would you say it’s working?” you gesture to the bottles coated in beads of condensation on the bar top.

“No.” He stares at you openly. His carnivorous mouth splits into a grin.

His boldness makes a giggle bubble up in your throat. You tilt your head back with a laugh. Your hair slides behind your shoulders, exposing the delicate flesh of your neck.

“No,” you repeat in agreement. You match his physicality and grasp his own thigh firmly with your hand, studying his face for any hint of a response. “It’s not enough,” you add, dragging your hand further up his leg. Slowly.

“You’re looking for more, cariño?” he dares with cloying charm. Yes! More!

You might've rolled your eyes at the whole situation if you weren’t so many drinks in with a sinister desire for escapism. You’ve barely spoken to each other, engaged in an elite-level erotic staring competition instead.

The best you could do was exchange names.

“Javier Peña,” you repeated back to him. Deciding if you liked the way it sounded on your tongue. You wet your lips.

“Just Javi is fine,” he counters while leaving enough cash on the bar to cover both your tabs with a generous tip.

“Smooth, Just Javi,” you bait, looking at the cash and back to him. He flashes a wolfish smile back. It makes you want to fuck him right here on the bar. More, you scream at him with your eyes.

He removes the nearly finished cigarette between your much smaller fingers, takes the last drag, and stubs it out in the ashtray.

If you weren’t so aroused by everything about him, you’d chastise him for trying to get you out of here so quickly. But you feel it rolling off of him, too. It feels like taking a narcotic. Time is syrupy and slow. You feel your smile sticking longer than you meant, your eyes linger hotly, and you squeeze his upper arm harder than intended. It’s an addictive rush to feel your desire reciprocated. And with such urgency. You take in his height and broad frame now that you stand face to face. He stills. Observant. You don’t need any more time to decide what you want. You need to feel him and only him as soon as possible.

“Let’s go. Now,” you order as you lead him out of the dingy establishment into the clear night.

You expect him to cage you against the cool metal of his pickup, but he’s a suave gentleman opening the passenger door for you instead. Fine. You slide across the bench seat just as he’s turning the key in the ignition, pressing your curves into the side of his firm body. Restless and grabby, your fingers dance over him, unsure where to start when he grips your chin in his large palm and tilts your face towards his.

Rage flashes behind your eyes at his interruption. Never far from the surface, ready to lash out.

“Be good for me, cariño,” he says sternly.

“Oh, I’ll be so good,” you purr, dragging your hand down his chest towards the bulge in his too-tight jeans and batting your lashes before he grabs your hand.

You huff, indignant. Rolling your eyes.

“I’d like to give you my full attention.”

“You can have mine.”

“No.”

“Who put you in charge?” you spit out with a fierceness.

He laughs, harsh and mean. You flush with irritation, recoiling like his grip suddenly burned. What is this? You thought you were reading everything right; you’re in his truck, ready and wanting. Frustrating man. You need something to ease your anger, or you’ll spit venom.

He leans into your ear like he has a secret despite the privacy of the cab of his truck. Dragging his voice over broken glass and gravel, he murmurs, “You want to feel something?” his hand is suddenly wedged between your legs. “You want more?” He squeezes tight, pressing his fingers against the seam of your denim shorts, and you choke back a moan. His spiced scent fills your nose. You feel his smile against your ear. Your head spins. Yes. You need it now. No games. Your nails dig marks into his wrist, pleading.

“You get to touch, but I don’t? What is this, Javier? Afraid you won’t last?” You jeer at him.

His hot laugh fans down your neck. Your body betrays your mind in search of friction. Shamelessly, your hips roll against his hand.

“Such a sharp tongue,” he tuts at you, pulling back to look into your eyes, “for such a needy pussy,” he pulls his hand away. You fight to still your body and level his stare, feeling the heat of anger and lust in your face. He lists his demands.

Be good for me. Until we get home.

Simple.

Then I will give you what you need.

Bold.

Something different washes over you, but you keep pushing at him.

“And what do I need, Javi?”

“Need to be stuffed full of this cock until you forget what ‘more’ means.”

Soaked. Your traitorous pussy floods your already ruined panties. But you can’t shut yourself up. You have to push him harder.

“Awfully confident, Javi. Hope you aren’t the type to oversell and underdeliver–” Your snide remark is cut off when he covers your hand with his and presses it into the hard bulge in his jeans.

“Does it feel like an oversell?”

You barely hear him over the sound of your heartbeat pulsing in your ears. No, it most definitely does not feel like an oversell; you refuse to admit it out loud. He grazes the edges of his teeth down tender skin. At the slope where your neck meets your shoulder, he snaps you back into reality with a sharp bite. A small gasp escapes you that he definitely doesn’t miss.

You catch the smirk. Cocky bastard.

“Now,” he demands your attention, “you’ll be good for me all the way home.”

It’s definitely not a question, but he stares like he’s waiting for a response.

You fold your hands in your lap begrudgingly and nod. But something in your chest blooms brightly. The dance for dominance does exhilarate you. He grips your upper thigh like he’s the only thing holding you to the earth. Like you might fly out the window if he lets go. Or, like you might crawl into his lap, sink down onto his cock, and cause you both to launch through the windshield when he crashes into a ditch.

His fingers tease under the edge of your shorts, white-hot flesh against flesh. You’re wired.

You direct him to your place. It’s close, and you’ve no patience. He doesn’t argue.

You lead him into your home. He doesn’t take you ferociously against the back of the door. Infuriating. You behaved all the way home. He’s a curious juxtaposition of lewd and polite. Restrained, he takes his shoes off at the door and asks for a glass of water. Like he’s your neighbor invited over for tea. But, you can feel the carnality radiating off him as he watches to see if you’ll show good manners. More.

“That’s good, cariño,” he praises, soft and raspy, taking the icy glass from your hand. “Show me your room,” he instructs. How is it your turf, but he’s still in charge? You glare at him briefly before you acquiesce and traipse down your hallway to your bedroom.

He places the glass of water on your nightstand, still full, and turns to assess you. You furrow your brows. Was the water some kind of test? Whatever. You behaved in the car. You behaved all the way to your bedroom. You’re nearly dizzy with need. Every breath feels like a lifetime.

His golden skin glows in the lamplight. You’d describe it as angelic if he wasn’t driving you mad. Morbid desire crawls under your skin, itchy and tense. He gestures for you to sit on your bed, and you do. If he insists on leading, you’ll follow.

You fold your hands in your lap again as if awaiting his next command. He cradles your cheek in his palm, and you look up through your lashes. You are not the saint of patience; your fingers twitch with the urge to tear his clothes into shreds. Why is he taking his time? Your mind is racing for a snarky comment when he interrupts your thoughts like he could hear them.

His touch is so gentle. Patient. Like he’s experienced in domesticating rabid animals.

“Shhh, I know,” his voice is earnest. Not teasing. Not mocking.

It catches you off guard. Grounding you. Strange.

His expression seems to slip into something unguarded as well. A moment of understanding. You see him. Something is building in the distance in your mind. Like the shore is receding before a tidal wave hits. But it’s too quiet without the waves breaking on the rocks. More.

“Make me feel something, Javier,” you reply.

It hangs delicately in the air. You aren’t provoking or begging. It’s a genuine expression of your desire to run from your internal state.

“I intend to,” he confirms with confidence. Like that’s the permission he was waiting for, the wait is over. Your lips connect. He kisses you with a bright and burning passion. Plush lips and wet tongues slide together expertly. Sharp little nips pull whiny melodies out of you. Your hands tug and pull at his hair, shoulders, and shirt. It’s not enough to just have his mouth.

“More,” you demand into his tongue.

“So needy,” he condescends, and you feel your cheeks warm.

He peels off your shirt, and his hands fly to exposed breasts.

“No bra?” he tuts as if he didn’t put that together while ogling you at the bar. You shake your head in response as he kneads at your soft skin. “Of course not.” He pinches at your nipples with precision, pleasure bridging on pain coursing through your body. You feel your chest arch towards him for relief, deep moans falling from your mouth. You want him to consume you. He looks like he might.

Javi hums at the way your body responds to him. Pliant but strong. You move into his touch, seeking intensity. He increases pressure and maps out your body.

He lets all his thoughts be filled with you. Your warm skin and soft vanilla scent are hidden until his nose trails behind your ear. You freely let all the sounds and breath spill from your mouth as he caresses you reverently. He wants to know how many sounds you can make.

You were a delightful surprise, crashing into the bar next to him. He recognized the look in your eyes. He’s going to give you what you need. Because you want it. And because he wants to drown himself in it. He feels drawn to you somehow.

Despite how good it feels to have his hands and mouth on your body, your neglected clit aches for attention. He continues on, almost obliviously, and you reach a fever pitch that splits your eyes wide open. Possessed by one word. More.

Your fingers come to life and work rapidly, yanking at his belt and the button on his jeans before slipping a hand in to feel. You’re struck with a surge of delight as your hand skates over his hot flesh and coarse hair. A hedonic sense of imminent victory unfurls in your core.

“No underwear?” you tut back at him.

“Nope,” you swear he winked at you as he said it.

He pulls you up to stand, stripping the rest of both of your clothes off quickly. You push him back a step to get a better look at his now fully naked form.

“Shit.” “Fuck.”

You mutter over each other at the same time. Like you’ve been compelled, you reach for him, needing to immediately taste and touch him everywhere. You knew he was a gem in that dive bar, but in front of you in your bedroom, you realize: he’s fucking gorgeous.

Of course, he won’t allow you to touch him. Nasty man with his beautiful body and devilish disposition. He scoops you up like the petulant child you are about to become and drops you onto your back in the middle of your bed with ease. You bounce against the mattress.

He catches the sour pout on your face as he settles himself between your legs.

“No need to think now, princesa,” he kisses just inside your left knee, “that’s my job now.” His mustache tickles the soft skin of your inner thighs, but it’s the spark in his dark eyes that makes you squirm. You groan in frustration at being deprived of the freedom to touch him once again, but you remain malleable.

“I need you to lay back and spread these legs for me.”

You comply. Parting your legs wider as his hands slide towards your center. Your eyes are locked on his, and his eyes are locked on your glistening folds in front of his face.

“Fuck, cariño, yes, just like that.”

You curse your body for needing to blink. Enraptured with the look on his face, you don’t want to see anything else. Floating and lightheaded, nobody has ever seen you like this. Seen the truth in your eyes so easily. Seen your blaring evidence of need pooling and dripping. And still looked at you the way he does. Desperate to be touched, you are grounded in the present. No other conscious thoughts. More.

He pulls at the skin on the top of your thighs, nowhere near close enough for your liking, but fully exposing your achy clit and fluttering entrance to his eyes. You’ve needed his touch since you left the bar, or maybe since you first felt his husky voice frazzle your brain.

He stares and stares as you watch impatiently.

“Such a gorgeous pussy,” he says to himself before he hovers closer and blows a stream of cool air over your swollen folds.

You could slap him for that or scream, but what comes out is a breathy “fuck,” and you clench your fists in an attempt to remain composed through this macabre sexual torture. You feel like he’s been down there for an eternity. And still, he’s given you no relief.

You brace for another stream of air, but instead, you watch agape as a glob of spit falls in slow motion from his lips to your clit. The barely there sensation snaps something in your mind as his saliva flows downward.

“You just gonna look, or you gonna touch any time soon?” you goad.

Javi’s eyes shoot to yours, narrowed. You’ve interrupted a private conversation. Vague and meaningless threats start flowing from your mouth, and you shift to reach for him when an abrupt slap to your pussy jolts your nervous system.

Before your brain and mouth can comment on his audacity, your body betrays you. You feel the patchy flush on your chest burning and the gush of lubrication in anticipation. He clocks both signs.

“Cariño,” he coos at you darkly. “I told you,” head shaking with disappointment, “no need to think.” He looks back down, “Now look, she’s crying for me, and I haven’t even had a taste yet.”

Your head sinks into your pillows with an exasperated sigh. How can torture feel exquisite? Wretched man.

“No. You don’t take your eyes off me,” the edge in his tone suggests you don’t want to disobey.

You find the strength to tilt your head back towards him. And it’s just in time to watch as he runs two fingers up and down your glossy folds. He ghosts around your clit, avoiding what you need most until he’s satisfied with his coated fingers. He plunges them both into your eagerly awaiting hole, petting at your velvety walls. An animalistic noise that must come from you fills the room in competition with the slick, wet sounds of his fingers.

“That’s right. Keep those pretty eyes on me while I play with your pussy.” Javi looks down to watch for himself. “You look so good swallowing my fingers,” he rasps thickly. Your walls clench and constrict around his fingers as his voice carves out a home in your mind.

Your room is cool, thanks to the hum of your window AC unit, but your body runs hot. You’ve never had a man in your bed who was this good with his words before. It forces you to stay focused. Present and aware of every sensation. Your ex was too insecure to be vocal. Other partners lacked tact or creativity. None of them ever took charge like this or took their time. You feel your chest heaving and see the wide smile break across his face. Your skin tingles as a sheen of sweat breaks out.

Javi takes his time experimenting with the ways your body responds. He speeds up and slows down, changes pressure and patterns, tapping and tracing, petting and prodding. It’s like the nine extra settings you don’t need your vibrator to have, but better. It’s not careless. You watch, like he instructed. He seems studious, observing how you respond, scanning your face and body. Microexpressions on his face calculating and plotting.

You flex, tense, and writhe as much as you dare, trying to maintain some control over your body. Your eyebrows are pinched, and your hips are tight as you strain.

Javier can tell. Do you not trust him? He needs you to give in to him.

“Let me take you there, cariño,” he urges. “Can feel she wants it; just relax for me, breathe.”

“Fuck,” you confirm with a whisper and do your best to let go of some of the rigid tension. He maintains a steady rhythm for you to focus on. He slowly builds in intensity, and he continues to murmur encouragement to you. Breathe. There you go. Easy.

You slowly melt into it and let him puppet your mind and body. Building and building. Breathing and breathing. Allowed to be out of control. That does it. Your climax crashes violently against your loose frame. Yes, cariño, just like that, fuck. Contracting muscles in your core pull your chest forward. Jerking and spasming, you raise with stuttering gasps. You aren’t sure if you should laugh or be embarrassed as you pant, feeling like he just performed an exorcism on you. His expression settles you. Pleased with an edge of ravenous.

He slides his fingers from you and sits up, looming tall and strong on his knees over your damp, limp body. Your eyes are glued to his weeping cock, softly bobbing at your eye level. Saliva pools in your mouth, craving the weight of it sliding over your tongue. You swallow and blink. Recalibrating your senses and figuring out what he just said to you.

He runs his fingers back through your overly sensitive folds to get your attention. Your entire body twitches, wrenching your attention to his face. He already has you at his mercy.

“Close your mouth, baby,” he commands. You weren’t aware it had been hanging open and snap it shut. He laughs gently at your stupor. Enamored. Then he’s running his slick coated fingers over your lips like a debauched lipgloss. Your mouth parts to question him, and he slides them onto your tongue before a word gets out.

“Good,” he praises, “suck.” You do. And as he drags his fingers out he replaces them with his tongue. He sucks and nips at your lips, tasting everything. The bright flavor of your arousal, the lingering beer from the bar, the smoky tobacco, and the gum you tried to sneak on your way out of the bar. It’s a potent concoction, and it fuels his thirst. You run your tongue along his neck and commit the flavor of his sweat-salted skin to memory.

You can feel the rumbly groans filling his chest, and you’re back to needing more. Clawing at his skin and tugging at his hair. One of your soft hands finds his throbbing cock, and wrapping your fingers around it causes you to exchange throaty moans. You slip your thumb around the head, coating it in precome and using it to glide your full fist down his shaft. It’s stupid how big his cock is, and part of you is loathe to admit it. You just know he’s already aware, but a mindless so big slips out of your mouth anyway. You feel him smile against you.

“Y’think so?” he breathes against your neck.

You roll your eyes at him and tease, “Don’t be trite, Javi.” You tug firmly at his length. “I’m sure all the ladies you pick up in shitty dive bars fawn over your pretty cock.”

A distant look flickers across his face before he flashes a sly grin at you.

“Y’think it’s pretty?” Is that all he heard?

“Oh my god,” you groan in feigned annoyance at him.

He looks down to watch your hand stroke him and decides that is a pretty sight.

You hope he was right in the cab of his truck. That when he fills you up, you’ll forget how to think. He pulls back from your greedy little grasp. I know, I know. He says with the marks he leaves along your skin.

“You think she’s ready for me?” he asks as he adjusts to line up with you. You’re too entranced to respond. He slides himself through your folds, and you whimper at the pressure. He’s still waiting for an answer. He pauses and stares at your face. He gives your clit a playful swat with the weight of his cock.

You blink back up to him, “huh?”

“You think she’s ready to take me?” he repeats.

“Yes, Javi, m’ready.”

He gives you a disapproving look, for god knows why. And shifts further away from you. You feel your face shift into a pout.

”I think she can give me a couple more first.”

Something in you loosens, and you realize you’re defenseless. Willing.

This time, he doesn’t toy with you. He strikes swiftly. Overwhelming your senses when his fingers slide back inside of you and the hot furnace of his mouth envelopes your no longer neglected clit. He brings you over the edge rapidly with the combination of his curling fingers and the firm pressure of the flat of his tongue.

He praises you adoringly, but he doesn’t let up. That’s it. Dámelo. Breathe. You can take it. Another. Know she wants it. Like that. Taking you further than you thought you could go. Again and again. You’re blind and boneless, a sticky mess. He could watch you like this for hours. Writhing against his fingers as his other arm wraps over your belly, holding you in place.

“What’d you say?” he asks as you come down from another flood of endorphins. You weren’t aware you could form words. You blink dazedly before you can figure it out.

“Please, Javi, please,” you repeat. You don’t know what you’re begging for anymore.

His lips are pressed to your sweaty forehead. When he pulls back, a mischievous grin spreads across his face. You’re trying to think of what you were trying to communicate, but it’s hazy.

“Doing so good for me, cariño, you deserve it now.”

You can only nod and whisper another “please.” He slides the head of his cock through your dripping, sensitive folds. That’s what you wanted. More.

“Yes,” you chant, “please, oh god, yes, Javi, please, fuck.” You exercise the full extent of your current vocabulary in quick succession.

“Beautiful, cariño,” his words drip over you like honey.

“Yes, Javi, please,” you continue your chant.

Slowly. Painfully slowly, he begins to feed his cock into you, eyes rapidly flipping between studying the expressions crossing your face and the view of your pussy stretching around him.

“Oh god, oh,” you repeat mindlessly as he works his way inside of you.

“Fuck” he exhales and locks his eyes on your face before pushing the rest of the way in. When your eyes widen, and your jaw falls slack, he knows the image will be seared into his memory.

“Yes, Javi, fuck–” your mantra is cut off with a deep moan as he grinds his hips into yours. You're so full. You run your hands down his back, trying to force him closer. Trying to merge solid bodies into liquid pleasure. Transform physical vessels into the intangible. More.

He begins to slide in and out, never leaving the clutch of your warm walls all the way. His pace steadily increases, along with the intensity of the snap of his hips once he’s as deep as possible inside of you. He folds your knees towards your chest and thrusts with fervor, captivated by the way your tits bounce.

A cacophony of lewd noises bounces off the walls in your room. Your shared panting, the rocking bedframe, the wet slip of his cock sawing into you, the skin-to-skin slap of his heavy balls bouncing against your ass, it’s all a debased symphony together.

A delirious giggle pours from you as the realization strikes. He was right, no need to think; all you need is to feel how perfectly he fills you up. He’s not thrown by your fit of laughter. You think he knows. His mouth is moving, though. He’s speaking to you. You focus with all the effort you can muster.

“Again, cariño. You’re going to come on my cock for me,” he breathes like he’s the one ready to beg. You obey. It takes the slightest touch, swirling your fingers around your sensitive nerves. Watching the tense expression on his face. The weight of his body fucking you into your mattress. You’re clenching around him like you could pull him any deeper.

“Fuck, that’s right,” he drops his mouth to your salty neck, “so well-behaved for me.”

You preen at that. Breathing each other's air.

“These legs still work?” he asks, swatting at your thighs.

“A little,” you shrug.

“Good.” He sits up, pulling your chest into his, breathing with you for a minute as you wrap your legs around him and settle on his lap. “Not done with you yet,” he growls into your hair. You think about the moment at the bar earlier, when he lit your cigarette for you. You hoped he’d be good. You didn’t think he’d be this good.

“Yes, Javi,” you agree as if you know what’s next. He shifts, and you let him arrange your body as he pleases. It’s blissful. Not having to think. He maneuvers you like a doll, but you know you aren’t an object to him. Not with the way he gently rolls you onto your belly, arranging a pillow under your head. You rest your cheek against it and peer dreamily at him. He lifts your hips, propping you up on your knees, and pauses for a second to admire the way your pussy glistens readily for him. The way your smooth back arches in presentation just for him. But it’s the expression on your face, the insatiable more in your eyes, that gives him purpose.

He kneels behind you and sinks in easily, a groan ripping through his throat as you push your hips back into him with more energy than he expected. You moan loudly in response, attempting to muffle it into the pillow.

“Oh my god, Javi,” you rasp at him. “How can you possibly get any deeper?” you ask incredulously.

“How are you still talking, cariño?” he taunts, picking up an unyielding and brutal pace.

“M’not” you decide, “no thoughts.”

“Fuck” you both echo as he hits a new angle.

“Please, don’t stop,” you beg openly, “just like that, Javi, holy shit.” He slips one hand underneath you to play with your swollen clit.

“Yes,” you begin chanting again. But you want him to come. You need it. You slide your own hand under his to replace it. Reaching further to feel the way you’re stretched around him. You wish you could see it. The feeling alone turns your brain to mush.

“Javi?” you plead for his attention. You could sob with the intensity building in your core.

“Yes?” he asks without slowing down.

“Need you to come,” you whine into the pillow your face rocks into.

“Yes, cariño,” he consents.

“No, now. I need you to fill me up, please; I need to feel it,” you beg like you were invented for him in a dream. So perfect.

“I know,” he asserts, “gonna stuff you full,” and that sends you.

“Fuck, Javi, yes, I need it,” you sob out as your muscles flex and contract around him once more.

He grips your spineless frame and tugs your back into his chest. You might be drooling as your head rolls into his shoulder. You register a hand squeezing at your tits as he gives you what you want. A few more harsh thrusts and he’s filling you up. You can feel his cock flexing and straining to give you everything he’s got. Javier’s rough breaths reverberate through your blissfully quiet mind. It’s enough.

He lowers you back to your pillow, still on your knees, and he slides out of you with a soft groan. You echo it, feeling immediately emptier without him.

You stretch across the bed to fish for your cigarettes in your pile of discarded belongings from earlier or maybe a lifetime ago.

He accepts one when you offer and, in turn, offers you the water he asked for earlier. You gratefully accept. You ask if the water trick works on all the women he picks up in dive bars. He argues that it’s not really a trick if the sex happens before you drink it, and you share a real belly laugh at that, realizing he’s right. You finish your cigarettes in a calm silence next to each other. Your mind is quiet. You let out a satisfied little sigh.

He gets up and starts pulling on his jeans. Reality hits you like a brick smashing into your skull. Leaving blood and bone fragments across your pillow. Substances and sex are temporary. Distractions, not solutions. A fleeting release to quell your demons. The ones that reappear back on your shoulders, cackling with glee over the chaos. Your mind is back in action racing. You drag your hands down your face. Holding your eyes shut tightly. You wait, holding your breath. Listening for the sound of your front door opening and closing any second.

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