#3k words...drabble right...

[princesssmars]

so...we can all agree vi is an ass girl, right?

modern!au. 18+ content ahead. post contains lesbian sex and dry humping. inspired by this video from love and deepspace. i didnt know they got down like that. wc : 3.081.

she didn't show it often before, but lately violet could quickly become so achingly desperate for you.

she didn't show it often, but violet could become so achingly desperate.

at the start of your relationship, she tried to play off her need for you in a casual way, brushing it off as just being a very attentive girlfriend. you never had a problem with, always open and accepting of whatever little bits of attention she would give to you.

but then one day she slips, and she can feel your dynamic shift as soon as it happens.

she was away visiting her family for the holidays, body snugly tucked under the covers in her childhood bed as she held her phone above her face. the house was quiet, the air was cold, and she was having an internal battle with the reasonable part of her that told her to call it a night and drift off to sleep already...

and then there was the other side. the one that suddenly brings to her attention the steady heat that’s been building beneath her stomach after you sent the prettiest photo of you all dolled up in your parent’s guest bathroom. the one that made her bite her lip as she observed every inch of you through the screen before instantly liking the photo and sending back a flirty message. the one that now gravitated her fingers to calling your phone in the middle of the night and hoping and praying you’d pick up, nearly breathing a sigh of relief when you did.

"vi? are you alright?"

loaded question, she thinks to herself. in perfect health? of course. of sound mind? debatable, but for the most part yes. alright? no, definitely not at the moment.

"yeah, yeah, i’m alright princess. just wanted to talk to you."

"aww, you're such a sweetie. how'd i get so lucky, huh?"

and yes, she does appreciate and silently adore the sweet sentiment. but the sound of you cooing at her with just the tiniest hint of a rasp in your voice from tiredness only cements her fate, having to use all of the rational energy she has left to stop whimpering.

"tell me how your trips been. wanna hear your voice for a little longer."

"no problem. well im fine, everyone here is good. besides my aunt nat, she's still moody because no one allowed her in the kitchen again-"

you go on about your family and their shenanigans, and she cant help but quietly laugh along when you giggle about some of the stories and memories you've made. but the 'conversation' takes a turn when you start to talk about her.

"you know i miss you, right?"

she feels a subtle pang in her chest, half longing and half desire. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. rolled over in bed this morning and kept trying to find you till i realized where i was. it's weird not waking up with you."

she hums, hoping you cant hear her stuttered breaths through the receiver. she doesn't know why hearing about you subconsciously looking for her embrace is what does it for her, but she can only give a short response as one of her hands trails down into boxers.

"wish i could've been there with you, baby."

"mmm, me too. missed your warmth, swear you're like my own personal heater. wish you could be here with me now."

her breathing stops and her eyebrows raise. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. missed your hands, too."

fuck, fuck fuck fuck. she's taken off guard, mind racing at your words and tone and before she knows it she has two fingers stuffed inside of herself while she quietly whimpers for you to keep talking to her.

"fuck, just a little more baby, please, 'm so close-"

"aww, you're such a good girl for me, aren't you violet?"

she swears she bites her lip so hard it nearly bleeds when she cums, walls clenching around her fingers and eyes rolling back into her head as she reaches her peak while you talk her through it.

the next week when she picks you up from the airport she can see it, a glimmer in your eye and quick in your smile that wasn't there before. she tries to ignore it when she pulls you in for a long-awaited embrace but then she just gets so enveloped in your warmth, your smell, the feeling of your body pressed hers. she's only yanked out of her lovestruck stupor when you whisper a sly little comment in her ear about how long and tight she's been holding you.

"call me crazy but if i didnt know any better i'd say you're feeling a little desperate for me."

so the cats out of the bag. she's super attached to you, so what? it's not like you ever complained about it, instead constantly using her neediness to your advantage to get what you want from her. you'll likely never have to beg and convince her to get up from bed to change the thermostat again, only needing to graze your hand across her chest and press a lingering kiss to the space beneath her chin before she's leaping out of bed and speedwalking down the hall.

and don't even get her started on her libido. the both of you had an amazing sex life already, able to almost instinctually tell what brought the other the most mindblowing pleasure possible. but ever since that night, it's like her desire for you only increased tenfold, barely able to go a day without getting her hands on you or vice versa.

it only reached a head when you decided to truly test her limits.

she had taken up a later shift to help out loris who had a date, which meant by the time she returned home she was too tuckered out to have her way with you. but during times like these, she could always count on the early morning sun waking her up just in the rich window of time for morning sex. but when the light rays peek through her bedroom window and she uses her arm to pull you closer she finds you absent, your side of the bed cold.

after a brief search through the house, she opened her text messages just to find your sent a sweet text only an hour before she’d woken up to tell her your friends had invited you on a last minute girls day around the city the night before, and you didn’t want to wake her from her sleep since she seemed exhausted when she got home.

vi groans and falls back into the pillows, lousily texting you back a short message to tell you she loves you and hopes you have fun with your friends. she’ll be alright, she can go a few more hours without you near.

but only an hour later after she’s showered and eaten a quick breakfast she feels the ache start to build in her chest, eyes darting up to the clock on the wall and groaning when realizes just how long this day is going to feel.

everything she tries to do to keep her mind off of you fails miserably. doing chores? she's thinking back on the time when the both of you first split up household duties when you moved in together, feeling giddy at sharing something so menial with the girl she was enamored with. making herself a protein shake for the gym? now she's stuck in a daydream about all the times you've been in this kitchen together, sharing sweet baked goods and sweeter kisses as you settle into domestic bliss.

she has got to get out of the house.

jayce understood her problem as soon as she called inviting her down to the gym for a few hours to work off any ‘pent-up energy’ she’s currently... unable to get out in her preferred method.

it works for a while, the familiar smell of sweat and the slight ache in her muscles grounding her back into reality as she makes casual gym talk with jayce. she's just starting to feel like the absence of you is off of her mind when she hears your text notification on her phone, accidentally leaving her place as jayces spotter to open up her phone.

as soon as her brain registers that you’ve sent her pictures she makes up some lame excuse to get to the bathroom, tuning out her friend's groan of disapproval as she speed walks to the restrooms and locks herself in one of the stalls.

the first few messages are sweet, little selfies of you and your friends as you enjoy your day together as you get some sweet treats together at one of the malls concession stands. a lovesick smile involuntarily grows on her face, always happy to see you smiling and enjoying yourself with the people who care about you. but her eyes start to squint when you start to send pictures of you trying on various outfits from some of the outlet stores, posing demurely in front of the trying room mirrors.

but then her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates when suddenly shes getting photos of you in her vagina's favorite enemy - lingerie.

even before vi started acting so eager about your body, it wasn't hard for you to catch on to the fact that the woman was so clearly an ass girl. even on five hands, you wouldn't be able to count the number of times you’d caught her staring or sneaking small glances at your behind, not to mention how she thought she was being discreet about her affection for it with the numerous times she’d slap it when walking by you. she tried to laugh it off when you brought it up in conversation, assuring you that she loved each and every part of you and could never pick a favorite.

but now you were determined to really see how much she wanted you, using every dirty trick in the book you could think of. she feels her face get hot as she looks down at her phone, the image of you in lacy lingerie, back facing the mirror as the magenta fabric (nearly the same shade as her hair, jesus christ,) stretches across the swell of your ass and crisis crosses across your back.

her brain short circuits. before she can think about it she’s saving the pictures to her phone and calling you at the speed of light.

“hey, violet. how’s your day?”

“you are so… evil. amazing and beautiful and evil.”

your giggle rings through the receiver, melodic and teasing. “what's the problem? you don't like the set?”

“don’t even joke. when are you getting home?”

“mmm not till late, the girls wanted to go to a club tonight.”

“oh you’ve got to be kidding me-”

“do you want me to send you the address?”

vi hasn't been to a nightclub in months, at first harshly avoiding the hard party scene in favor of her sobriety before feeling no need to indulge in the party scene once her life became more stable, especially after she met you. but she never stopped you from going out and having fun with your friends, tagging along once in a blue moon to sip on a mocktail while she chatted up the bartender and stared at your ass while you danced.

tonight was an extremely necessary blue moon.

the air is hot, and the feel of her drink burns her throat as vi waits at the bar, blue eyes wide and aware as she stares at the club’s crowded entrance like it owes her money. the bartender asks if she’s alright, scared she’s waiting for someone to arrive to jump them before she assures them she’s fine. they slowly nod and get back to making drinks, nearly dropping a glass out of fright when she slams her glass on the bar and quickly makes her way over to you.

if she wasn't so laser-focused on finally getting her hands on you she might've been a little cocky at the fact that you look like you were about to salivate at the sight of her, knowing she made the right decision to wear the tight pants she knew you loved on her. in only a second she’s got her hands settled on your waist, not caring that your friends are laughing at her clear excitement over seeing you in your club outfit, a tiny dress so she can see the wide expanse of your legs, your arms, your shoulder - fuck, the straps of the pink bra aren’t even hidden by the strapless dress-

“wanna dance with me?” your voice is nothing short of flirtatious, and you already know your answer by the way you start to walk past her to the dance floor, already predicting how she follows you like she’s on a leash.

as the both of you grind and dance in the middle of the club every thought racing through vi’s head is centered on you, physically and mentally unable to focus on anything else when she finally has you so close again after what felt like years. she feels a familiar sense of euphoria when her palms glide up and down your waist, smirking to herself when she feels you shudder when her hands reach up to cup and discreetly squeeze your breasts. she’s feeling happy about finally starting to turn the tables back on you before you arch your back into her, your ass pressing into her as your hand reaches up to her head, nails dusting along her cheek before reaching into her hair and pulling.

it’s only to be expected that that’s her breaking point, dragging you through the dancing bodies and into the back of the building until she can find anywhere to get you alone, thanking any god that exists above that she finds an open storage closet and drags you inside, pressing you face first towards the door. a little voice in her head reminds her not to be too rough with you, but it’s quickly silenced when she sees just how much you crave it, how your back is yet again arching and your hands are clenching into fists from their places on the wooden door.

it's nice, to remember that you want her as much as she wants you.

in only a few seconds she’s given into it, pressing you further into the door by pressing her body against yours and grinding her crotch into the fat of your ass, eyes lidded and head dropping to rest on your shoulder from the rush of pleasure she feels below.

“vi, oh my god-” your voice is light and airy, every word almost choked out as you struggle to prevent yourself from moaning out and alerting every person in the bar about what the two of you were up to.

“i know, fuck, I know, baby. i just-” she cuts herself off with a groan when she lets her hand travel down your front and under your dress to your panties, face running hot when she feels just how wet you’ve gotten. she’s all but rushing to ruche up your dress, mind going fuzzy yet again at seeing the pink fabric covering your ass and how it feels under her when she begins humping you yet again.

“nngh, knew it. knew you were an ass girl.” you giggle.

“god, please stop talking-”

whatever snarky little comment you were going to make dies in your throat when her arm comes up and around your neck to hold your jaw, turning your head around and smashing her lips onto yours. you whimper and moan into her mouth, violet greedily eating the noises of your pleasure as she takes you up against the door.

you pull back for a few seconds to catch your breath, both of your eyes drifting to the thin trail of saliva connecting your lips together.

she can feel it, then. an almost electric charge that runs form her body into yours. you lean into her touch, arch into her further like you’re trying ot merge your bodies into one. when her other hand tightens around the pushed-up fabric of your dress and she gets that absolutely adorable scrunch between her eyebrows you know what she’s asking, and you gently nod your head.

and so she presses her lips back to yours, her crotch further into your ass, and rides you in the cramped nightclub storage closet. she's grateful that you seem to be enjoying it just as much as she is, her mind completely focused on getting closer and closer to her peak. she can feel it building quickly, a growing heat below her stomach reach to burst at any moment. all it takes is you, sucking on her tongue before mumbling muffled words into her mouth begging for her to finish against you. she cums with a stifled moan into your mouth, only amplified when she feels you shudder and go loose in the legs beneath her.

you’re both panting, sweaty, and tired as you stare at each other. it’s a comfortable silence as you help each other adjust - vi fixing your dress and you attempting to put her hair back in her signature style.

“so,” your voice lilts up as vi’s busy fixing her jacket, debating if she wants to take it off to cool down or not, knwoing she’ll probably just wrap it around your arms outside anyway. “you gonna admit it yet?”

she rolls her eyes, looking at you with an exasperated but fond look in her eyes that makes your stomach flip. “you just love being proven right, don’t you?”

“absolutely.”

“fine, you were right. are you happy?”

“very. now, let’s go home annnd maybe,” your fingers hook into the loops of her pants and tug her closer,”you can show me a little more just how much you need me, yeah?”

maybe, vi would show her neediness for you more often. just a little.

[kingkaisen]

“WELL, WE SHOULD PROBABLY FUCK, RIGHT?”

♡ — SUMMARY; you & gojo are both sealed away in the prison realm. with nothing else to do, you might as well start fucking, right?

♡ — CONTENT; 18+ ONLY // MDNI — fem! reader, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (fem receiving), missionary, degrading nickname, best friends to friends with benefits, bickering, slightly jealous gojo, you & gojo are both the strongest sorcerers in the world.

♡ — A/N; based on this drabble (: I love this man sm, I’d do his taxes for him btw // also, pls don’t repost my gif!

♡ — WC; 3k

“This is all your fault, Satoru.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Okay, so I was distracted,” Gojo kicked up his feet, placing his black boots across a pile of dusty skeleton heads as if he was at home, relaxing on his plush couch, and not trapped inside of the prison realm. “If I remember correctly – and I do remember correctly because it happened thirty seconds ago – you were distracted too. Who knew that seeing your dead classmate would throw you off?”

“Throw me off?” You frowned, moving around a pile of bones to sit down somewhat comfortably. “You nearly passed out. I saw it with my own eyes, Satoru.”

“Oh,” Giving a small chuckle, Gojo tilted his head a bit as he smirked. “So you could see that, but you couldn’t see the weird guy with the two short ponytails almost obliterate you?”

“I don’t remember that. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“See this?” Gojo lifted a skull pressing against his right leg, and he dangled it in front of you. “This would’ve been you if it wasn’t for me.”

“You dumbass,” you paused, rolling your eyes, “because of you, we’re both gonna end up exactly like that skeleton. You do realize we’re trapped in here, right? No way out?”

“Calm down. Someone will save us. I have faith, don’t you?”

“Hell no,” a small sigh fell from between your lips, “and you know what? I hope we don’t get saved. The fact that we let ourselves get captured like this is embarrassing. I absolutely cannot leave this stupid box and look another sorcerer in the eye after this. I’d rather die.”

“You’re pretty dramatic,” Gojo sighed. “I hear you, though. We really screwed this up. We should’ve picked different careers. I could’ve been a really nice basketball coach.”

“I would’ve been a coffee shop owner.” Distracted by your own what-if daydreams, you mistakenly leaned back on a pile of skeletons, nearly jumping out of your skin once you remembered that you were indeed lying on a pile of skeletons. “Shit! I gotta get outta here, I can’t do this.”

“Just calm down, it isn’t so bad.” As Gojo adjusted himself, he grunted. “Remember when you dressed up as a skeleton for Halloween? You manifested this.”

“I should’ve never taught you that word,” frowning, you stood up, glancing around the dark inner workings of the prison realm. “How can you relax in a place like this? Aren’t you uncomfortable? Or at least a little bit scared?”

“Hmm, no.” Gojo grinned.

“I shouldn’t have asked. You’re too stupid to know when to be scared.”

“Ouch,” Gojo said dramatically, a hint of amusement coating his words. “Ya know, I’m glad you’re not a coffee shop owner. You’d probably toss random shit in someone’s coffee, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god, please shut up.”

“You shut up,” Gojo retorted childishly.

Deep breathing exercises had certainly come in handy during moments such as this one.

Although years upon years had passed since you and Gojo were kids, running around in Halloween costumes and splitting popsicles, it felt as if no time had passed at all whenever you two held a conversation.

Even so, how exactly did it come to this?

Gojo never truly had an ordinary childhood — you were the only normal thing in his life at the time — but you grew up rather unextraordinary.

A normal girl, one who went to school and did her classwork before sneaking off to a secluded lake in the late afternoons with Gojo, skipping rocks and eating sandwiches together.

It was a beautifully plain life. One that was ripped away from you by curses and sorcery.

The only silver lining that truly existed was your old classmates; the dear friends you made once you attended Jujutsu High all those years ago, and in particular, a dark-haired, mellow guy.

“Must’ve been really hard for you,” Gojo suddenly mumbled, “seeing Suguru again. You two had gotten pretty close, right? Up until he . . . left?”

“What’s up with the mumbling? Now isn’t the time for you to get jealous.”

“I’m not,” Gojo mumbled once again, turning his head away from you. “It’s not like that was the real Suguru anyway. Our Suguru is gone for good.”

“Yeah.” The sad tone of your voice is what grabbed Gojo’s attention. One thing that was stronger than his jealousy over you and Geto’s old fondness for one another was his deep concern for you.

“Hey, c’mere,” Gojo smiled softly, facing you once again.

“Huh?” You raised your eyebrows.

“I said come here.”

Hesitantly, you walked over to where Gojo was stretched out among the bones, sitting down on the ground beside him as best as you could with all the skeletons around. As you looked at him, it was rather impossible to understand how he could relax so comfortably.

“Come closer,” he held his arm out, waving you over.

“Why? What for?”

“‘Cause I wanna hold you, so just come here.” Suddenly, Gojo leaned up a bit, grabbing ahold of your wrist before pulling you on top of him.

With his other hand, he gripped the back of your thigh, moving your leg over his hips as he leaned back. He sighed with contentment once you were fully on top of him. Releasing your wrist, the white-haired man touched the side of your face, slowly guiding your head to his chest. “See? Isn’t this better than laying on those skeletons?”

“I guess so,” you mumbled against his chest.

“Why are you so tense?” Gojo guided his hand across one of your shoulders, and he started to rub it.

“Hard to relax when you’re trapped in the prison realm,” you paused. “Not to mention I’m literally laying on top of you.”

“So? We hug and stuff all the time.”

“This is more than hugging, and we’ve barely done that,” you smiled softly. “Kinda nice, though. You’re pretty warm.”

“You’re pretty warm too. And really soft.” With his other hand — the one that never left your thigh — Gojo slowly stroked you, gliding his hand up and down, but not daring to touch your ass just yet.

But he wanted to. Desperately.

Suddenly, Gojo shifted his body, squirming just a bit.

“You okay?” You questioned, lifting your head off of his chest to look at his blindfolded face. “Want me to get off?”

“No, not at all, everything’s fine,” Gojo lied.

Truth be told, his dick was starting to harden in his pants, and he could barely stand it.

“Oh, okay,” laying your head back down on Gojo’s chest, you spoke once again. “Satoru? What are we supposed to do until someone saves us? Just sit here and wait?”

“No, that’s a bad idea,” Gojo said.

“Then what should we do?”

Before he answered, Gojo placed his finger underneath his blindfold, pulling at it playfully.

“Well, we should probably fuck, right?”

It took a moment for Gojo’s sinful words to fully sink in. Upon realizing that you had heard him correctly, your head snapped up, your eyes widening with utter shock.

“What?”

“You heard me, sweetheart,” Gojo smirked. “No need to make such a big deal out of it. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but . . .” You paused, darting your eyes across the vast, skeleton-filled, dark space. “Here? Of all places?”

Gojo shifted once again. He gripped his pants, but he truthfully wanted to grip his cock instead.

“I’d fuck you anywhere,” Gojo said lowly. “I just think it’s time we finally fuck each other, don’t you?”

Suddenly, his large hand gripped the back of your head, and your best friend shoved his lips against yours.

“Hmm,” Gojo moaned softly, kissing you passionately with those sweet, feathery lips of his. Kissing you — finally, after so many years of dreaming about it — was a magical experience. Before, he never believed in soulmates or seeing fireworks when kissing someone ��� until now.

“Shit, you’re so . . .” His words trailed off as he pulled away, his warm breath patting against your pretty face.

“Satoru,” you mumbled against his lips, “I didn’t know you thought of me this way. I didn’t think that I’d be someone you’d wanna sleep with.”

“Really? Why’s that?” As Gojo spoke, he took off his blindfold, staring at you — then your lips — with those vibrant, ocean-blue eyes of his.

“We’ve barely even hugged,” when you frowned, just a little bit, Gojo wanted to kiss your pouty lips over and over again until his mouth was sore.

God, he wanted you in ways he couldn’t even begin to vocalize.

But he’d certainly try.

“And I thought I was being obvious this entire time,” Gojo paused. “Whenever we would fight together, side by side, do you know how hard it was to concentrate? All I could ever focus on in the middle of battle was trying not to let myself get distracted by you. Hearing you grunt and groan, just watching the way you’d move. I’ve always wanted to take you home with me once the fight ended, toss you on my bed, and find out all the noises you can make; see how loud you can get. I just gotta hear you moan for me, baby. I have to.”

Running his thumb over your soft mouth, he slightly pulled down on your bottom lip, all before he leaned in again, moving his thumb away and replacing it with his lips.

This time, when he kissed you, he didn’t hold back. That sweet tongue of his entered your mouth as if it was on a mission, and he swirled his tongue around yours, enjoying every little surprised noise you made just as much as he enjoyed tasting your delicious mouth. He’d kiss you forever if he could.

A small part of him hoped that the two of you would never get released, and he could spend eternity with his tongue sloppily flicking against yours.

A pair of large hands suddenly gripped your ass. When you gasped, pulling away from Gojo’s lips, he smiled. You were just too cute.

Who knew that the prison realm would actually turn out to be heaven?

“You’re so tense,” Gojo said with a hint of a teasing tone. “Has no one ever touched you like this before?”

“People have — I mean, I’ve done stuff before, it’s just . . .”

When you failed to finish your sentence, Gojo took it upon himself to finish it for you.

“It’s just that no one’s ever made you feel good before,” his sly grin only grew. “Right?”

“I-” you stammered, “that’s none of your business.”

“Lay down.”

“Why?” You asked, your curiosity at its peak.

“I wanna eat you out, sweet girl. Now lay down.” Gojo’s hands moved from your ass to your hips, and he lifted you off of his lap and laid you down next to him.

He then flipped over on top of you, giving you another kiss — a little, quick one — before he started to impatiently unbutton your pants.

“What kinda best friend would I be if I just let you keep living your life without having had a proper orgasm?” He said, shrugging off your bottoms. “Told you not to waste any time with all those shitty guys. You should’ve been with me from the start.”

“Yeah, yeah,” rolling your eyes, you sat up on your elbows, looking down at the sorcerer between your thighs, who slowly pulled down your underwear and held your legs open. “You’re not the first guy who has said a bunch of hot things to me, but then failed to deliver-”

You were interrupted by your own unexpected gasp, as it was elicited from your throat thanks to Gojo’s skillful tongue, which had swiped right across your clit.

He was such a tease; that tongue of his could work wonders. And it did. He flicked at your clit rapidly, and during every quick stroke, his eyes never glanced away from your face.

You started to squirm, but he held onto your thighs, convinced that absolutely nothing in this world could make him want to stop eating your pussy. Not when it tasted so undeniably good.

“Had no idea this pretty pussy was so damn delicious,” he pulled away, mumbling against your wet folds. “Should’ve done this a long time ago, baby.”

When he dived back into your pussy, he licked and sucked, sucked and licked. Good god, you tasted amazing. So, so amazing. He couldn’t help but moan as he made a mess of your pussy; your juices and his spit decorating his face.

“Oh my god, Satoru,” you moaned, “I’m close-”

Once again, your words were cut off by your own uncontrollable moans. That sweet orgasm was brewing right in the pit of your stomach.

You expected him to pull away once you warned him about your approaching orgasm, but he didn’t. Instead, he pressed his calloused fingertips into your plush thighs even harder, and he ate your pussy as messily as possible. Licked at it more rapidly. Sucked on your clit more hungrily.

“Cum in my mouth,” he moaned out in between licks. “Don’t hold back; I want it all. Cum in my mouth right now.”

“Gojo!” You called out. Last warning.

Instead of pulling away, he reached forward, grabbing ahold of your soft tits. With his fingers, he flicked at your hard nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt.

And with that, you arched your back off of the hard ground, moaning his name over and over again like a sinner praying for forgiveness.

Gojo lapped up your juices as if he was dying of thirst. He’ll be damned if he missed even a single drop of it.

“Damn it,” he said as he detached his lips from your swollen clit. “I wanna eat you out over and over again, but I gotta fuck you. I just gotta know what it’s like to be inside of you.”

Gojo sat up on his knees. He unbuttoned his pants. When he pulled them down, along with his boxers, his hard dick flung out.

You couldn’t help but stare at the mesmerizing large dick. The tip of it was red and swollen, precum dripping from his aching hole. Two long, thick veins ran along his member.

“You’re so big,” you stated, darting your eyes between his hard cock and handsome face.

“It’s okay,” Positioning himself in between your legs, he said, “I’ll make it fit, baby.”

When he pressed the tip of his dick against your awaiting hole, it felt like he was stepping through the gates of heaven.

One hand was placed next to your head, holding himself up, while his other hand gripped your hip.

His dick slid inside of your soaking wet pussy as if it belonged there; pieces of a puzzle coming together. The sinful moan that fell from between his lips was beautiful.

He couldn’t help it.

Not when your pussy was so tight, wet, and warm.

“Hmm, hey baby?” Gojo whispered, his warm breath patting against your ear, soft white hair tickling the side of your face. “You called me Gojo instead of Satoru earlier when I was eating your pussy. I want you to moan it again for me, over and over again. Can you do that?”

You nodded eagerly.

“Such a sweet girl,” he gave the shell of your ear a quick little lick. “So, so sweet.”

He didn’t wait too long to start thrusting in and out of you once your pussy had adjusted to his size. He simply couldn’t. Not when you felt so utterly amazing.

With his lips still close to your ear as he fucked you, the chatty man whispered all sorts of dirty things. And it only made you moan even louder.

“I could fuck you just like this forever. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He grunted, slamming himself inside of you at a quicker pace. “Sorry if I’m being too rough. I can’t help it, baby. Your pussy’s driving me crazy, just like I knew it would. I knew my best friend would feel this good. Who else other than me would know what to do with a pussy like this? Hm?”

“Gojo,” you called out, gripping his shoulders for dear life. “Gojo, I can’t- I’m gonna cum again!”

“Already?” He smirked, pulling away from your ear, his face only a few inches away from yours. “Gonna cum all over my dick? Make a mess?”

You didn’t respond — you couldn’t respond — not when he rhythmically fucked you like a doll, the tip of his dick reaching all the right spots inside of you.

“Shit,” Gojo suddenly groaned. “Think I’m gonna cum too, baby. I can’t hold it . . . Can’t fucking hold it much longer. I’m gonna fill you up. Stuff that pretty pussy with my cum. No one else will get to.”

“Please do it,” you stammered out with a whine, struggling to speak from the way your body was being pounded into. “P-Please!”

Suddenly, Gojo felt your pussy tighten around his cock. A wave of pure bliss washed over you, making your toes curl as you moaned his name in broken syllables.

The prettiest tears started to fall from your eyes. Gojo kissed them away.

His own orgasm was approaching quickly, building up in his lower stomach, dick, balls, and even his thighs.

“I’m so close — I’m right there, baby. I’m right there. Shit — I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum right inside of you, baby — there’s so much of it. I’m cumming-”

Feeling your cum coat his cock as your pussy milked him pushed him right over the edge. He moaned so loudly, it would have been entirely unsurprising if someone could have heard it from outside of the box.

He shot ropes upon ropes of warm, thick, pearly cum inside of you. His dick throbbed with every pulse, spilling every last drop of his semen into your stuffed hole.

“Baby,” Gojo whined lowly, attempting to catch his breath. “I didn’t think I’d ever stop cumming. You drive me crazy.”

“Can we go again?” Looking into his eyes with a pleading glance, you said, “I need more, Gojo, make me cum again. Please?”

“Did I just turn my best friend into my little slut?” Smirking, Gojo leaned down, kissing your lips once again. It was his favorite thing to do. “I’ll make you cum as many times as you want, sweetheart. We might be here for a while, so why not?”

Suddenly, Gojo lifted you, switching your positions until you were sitting right on top of him, his dick still inside of you.

“The prison realm doesn’t seem so bad anymore,” you grinned.

Gripping your hips, Gojo’s eyes scanned over your beautiful body, admiring the perfect view as you started to ride him.

Perhaps, he would have to thank Kenjaku someday.

🏷: @allofffmypeaches @manjiroswifo @yourusernames @armani78 @darkphoenix3432 @komonika

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | Masterpost (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆status: completed

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female reader, Namjoon x OC, Jin x OC, Jimin x OC, Taehyung x OC and others.

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆total word count: 218.5k (lmao my fingers slipped)

☆a/n: I got the idea for this fic just a little over a year ago, following a power outage that lasted for a few days where I live and Jungkook's live where he kept coming back with different outfits (the white dress shirt hit me right in the gut). It took me a long time to write, as I was working on multiple other projects at the same time, but I am so so happy to be ready to share this baby with you guys <3

☆Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing this monster <3 (and for all your encouragement and support)

☆And a special thank you to @wintaerbaer and @btsborahaee for encouraging me and supporting me whenever I screamed to you about this fic

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆discord server link here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

➳Teaser (Jungkook pov): the day he met you (1.1k)

You fucking touch her, you're dead.

➳Chapter one: when the Incident happens (11.8k)

Jungkook is Tae's best friend.

➳Chapter two: when Jungkook teases you (10.2k)

You know I hate that nickname.

➳Chapter three: when Valentine's Day happens (13.1k)

You know, Taehyung doesn’t have to know everything.

➳Chapter four: when you and Jeon Jungkook clash (9.5k)

I was just going to say that we should keep this between us.

➳Chapter five: when you have to go back to reality (12.1k)

We just pretend nothing happened, no?

➳Chapter six: when Jungkook hosts his friends over (9.6k)

I really want to kiss you right now.

➳Chapter seven: when doubt makes you question everything (15k)

Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?

➳Chapter eight: when secrets are unveiled in New York (13.5k)

I want you.

➳Chapter nine: when a party makes Jungkook jealous (11.2k)

You make me insane.

➳Chapter ten: when time slips through your fingers (10.1k)

I don’t want to lose you, peach.

➳Chapter eleven: when Jungkook visits Taehyung in Paris (8.4k)

Can’t wait for you to be back.

➳Chapter twelve: when it breaks (7.3k)

I can’t be with you.

➳Chapter thirteen: when it's too late (8.9k)

I have to talk to him.

➳Chapter fourteen: when the truth comes out (12.2k)

We never told each other how we felt.

➳Chapter fifteen: when you find your way back to Jungkook (7.4k)

You came?

➳Chapter sixteen: when Jungkook takes you out on a date (8.9k)

I think I was waiting for you my whole life.

➳Chapter seventeen: when forever awaits you (9k)

Getting to love you is the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me.

Drabbles in Jungkook's pov (might add more as the story goes on)

➳Chapter 1.5: the first party (1.6k)

Then why are you bringing him home, peach?

➳Chapter 3.5: Valentine's Day (1.1k)

We should have hung out like this before.

➳Chapter 4.5: a walk through campus (852)

You love it, peach.

➳Chapter 5.5: the return to reality (2k)

You wanted to talk?

➳Chapter 6.5: hosting his friends at the apartment (4.4k)

What the fuck is wrong with you?

➳Chapter 7.5: when he realizes (2.5k)

Isn't she Taehyung's sister?

➳Chapter 8.5: the engagement party (6.6k)

Have fun while it lasts.

➳Chapter 9.5: jealous jungkook (3k)

Shouldn’t I prove to you that you’ve got nothing to worry about?

➳Chapter 10.5: the morning before Paris (1.7k)

I promise I'll come back to you and make it work.

➳Chapter 11.5: the kiss (1.2k)

Just this once.

➳Chapter 12.5: after losing you (4.6k)

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

➳Chapter 13.5: returning home (4k)

What am I supposed to do?

➳ Chapter 14.5: losing you again (3k)

I can't believe you've been wearing the necklace

➳Chapter 15.5: a conversation with Taehyung, and his reunion with you (2.6k)

It’s never been like that with her.

☆☆☆☆☆

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[samsblades]

SUPERNATURAL M.LIST all works are gender neutral, reblogs + feedback are greatly appreciated !! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI WITH MY NSFW CONTENT. YOU WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED !!! all nsfw fics are clearly labeled MDNI, this applies to ageless blogs. p for platonic! f for fluff, a for angst, h/c for hurt/comfort, s for smut, su for suggestive!

SAM WINCHESTER

DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ something about being close | 9.5K, a, f ⟢ makes you wonder | 5.2K, f ↳ ⟢ part two : now you know | 6.8K, f, h/c ⟢ better than a sight for sore eyes | 1K, su, MDNI ⟢ take my breath away | 13.7K, a, f, h/c ⟢ give and take | 0.7K, f ⟢ warm brown jacket | 1.3K, f ⟢ you’d dance with me? | 1.4K, f ⟢ three seconds | 1.2K, f ⟢ literary parallels | 3.6K, a, f ⟢ this is real, it’s right | 3K, h/c ⟢ my boy only breaks his favorite toys | 10.6K, a ↳ ⟢ part two : to leave him with love | 8K, a ⟢ forget-me-nots | 5.6K, f ⟢ but daddy i love him | 11.3K, a, f ⟢ some other time |1.1K, f ⟢ just an observation | 1.3K, f ⟢ hold me, it’s enough | 1.6K, h/c ⟢ breathe, baby | 4.1K, s, f, MDNI ⟢ only got eyes for you | 2.7K, f ⟢ dead eyes | 2.4K, h/c ⟢ abstract (psychopomp)| 1.9K, h/c, a ⟢ love you again| 2K, f, h/c ⟢ motel room, 10:00 p.m. | 545, f, h/c ⟢ book shop, 12:00 p.m.| 515, f ⟢ motel shower, 12:00 a.m. |629, h/c ⟢ cabin, 3:17 a.m.| 658, h/c ⟢ campus library, 7:00 a.m.| 658, f ⟢ the impala, 4:00 p.m.| 608, f, h/c, p ⟢ drooling honey | 1.1K, s, MDNI ⟢ our girl | 1.2K, s, MDNI, w/jess ⟢ i got you | 4.1K, s, MDNI ⟢ you can take it | [tfem!sam]. 1.3K, s, MDNI ⟢ worship you | 1.5K, s, MDNI ⟢ my hands are yours | 2.8K, h/c ⟢ sweet smile | 1.9K, f ⟢ noticed | 1.1K, h/c ⟢ soft 'n sleepy | 1.3K words, s, f, MDNI ⟢ like a miracle | 1.1K, f ⟢ laundry machines | 1.7K, f ⟢ love you like that | 783, f ⟢ the object of his affections | 1K, f ⟢ in the morning | 959, f ⟢ smirking and butterflies | 783, f ⟢ blabbermouth | 845, h/c ⟢ no one else here | 908, f ⟢ ruined (not really) | 1.4K, f ⟢ green couch | 898, f ⟢ sweet potatoes |1.2K, f ⟢ hallway hardwood floors | 676 f, su ⟢ natural | 5.3K, f, s, MDNI

continued ! bc theres a character limit for a block of text :( ⟢ liked it too | 1.9K, s, MDNI ⟢ just a little bit | 1.7K, s, MDNI ⟢ lucky charm | 1.4K, f ⟢ deep satisfaction | 1.5K, s, MDNI ⟢ just because | 8K, f, s, MDNI

HEADCANONS ⟢ random boyfriend hcs | 1.6K , f ⟢ nsfw boyfriend hcs | 1.6K, s, MDNI ⟢ pirate!au | 1.1K, f, a ⟢ with adhd!reader | 0.8K, f ⟢ with talkative!reader | 0.7K, f ⟢ fake-dating!au | 1K, f ⟢ with angel!reader | 2.4K, f ⟢ tfem!sam x tmasc!reader | 1.3K, f

FAKE TEXTS ⟢ gen z younger sibling | f, humor, p ↳ ⟢ part two | f, humor, p

౨ৎ

DEAN WINCHESTER DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ the language of love isn’t dead | 2.4K, f, a ⟢ flower shop, 11:00 a.m. | 644, f ⟢ gas station, 3:04 a.m. | 615, h/c, p

HEADCANONS ⟢ best friend!dean | 1K , f, p

౨ৎ

BOTH DRABBLES / ONESHOTS (all platonic) ⟢ sorry won’t cut it (rewrite) | 4.1K, a, h/c ⟢ broken, fine for tonight | 1.3K, h/c ⟢ easy, maybe | 3K, h/c ⟢ safe now | 1.4K, h/c

HEADCANONS (all separate) … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

RUBY DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ abandoned church, 5:30 a.m. | 540, f ⟢ cry for me | 1.2K, s, MDNI ⟢ lick it better | 1.2K, s, MDNI ⟢ indulge | 1.2K, f ⟢ real cute | 3.5K, s, MDNI ⟢ don't mind | 597, a

HEADCANONS ⟢ girlfriend hcs | 1.3K, f

౨ৎ

CHARLIE BRADBURY DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ make you feel so good | 1.K, s, MDNI

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

JO HARVELLE DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ so pretty | 1.7K, s, MDNI ⟢ hooked | 1.6K, s, MDNI

HEADCANONS ⟢ girlfriend hcs | 1.6K, f

౨ৎ

JESSICA MOORE DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ our girl | 1.2K, s, MDNI, w/sam

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

ROWENA MCLEOD DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ coming soon

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

© SAMSBLADES 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. COPYING, TRANSLATING, AND REPOSTING IS PROHIBITED.

[s4svnn]

oob!couple :

Jungkook and oc are out on a date and girl starts flirting with jungkook and oc gets jealous (possible jealousy sex 🫥)

No touching - Out of bounds drabbles

You always knew your boyfriend was hot, but it still caught you off guard just how many girls asked for his number whenever you were out together. So, to make it clear who he belonged to, you set a rule as punishment—no touching.

Pairing: F1 racer Jungkook x reader (Aylah)

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings/content tags: teasing, punishment, begging, sub Jungkook, dom reader, blindfolding, bondage

Word count: 3k

The night had started out perfectly. Jungkook and I were out on a date at a cozy little restaurant in the heart of the city, tucked into a booth by the window. The soft hum of conversation blended with the low clink of glasses and silverware, the warm candlelight flickering between us, casting golden hues against his sharp features.

And God, did he look good. Jungkook was the kind of man who turned heads without even trying. His black leather jacket hugged his broad shoulders just right, the white tank top underneath stretching over his toned chest, leaving little to the imagine. His silver rings caught the dim light as he idly tapped his fingers against his glass, a habit of his when he was lost in thought. But the real kicker? His hair—gelled back, exposing every inch of that dangerous jawline, making him look like he had just stepped out of a classic movie.

He was effortlessly cool, effortlessly untouchable. But unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one who noticed. The stares had been relentless all night—lingering gazes from across the room, subtle peeks from waitresses, even a few not-so-subtle ones from women walking past our table. But I ignored them. I was used to it. People always looked at Jungkook.

Look, but don’t touch. That was the unspoken rule.

But apparently not everyone got the memo. Tall, gorgeous, and exuding confidence, she sauntered right up to our table, her heels clicking against the floor like she owned the place. Her dress clung to her body in all the right places, her hair styled perfectly, and her bold red lipstick made her smirk look even cockier. She didn’t even spare a glance at me as she approached us stopping right in front of Jungkook.

"Hey," she purred, placing a manicured hand on the table, leaning in far too close. "I just had to come over and say—you have the most incredible eyes. Has anyone ever told you that?"

I blinked. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Jungkook, ever the polite one, gave her a small, forced smile. "Uh… thanks?"

That should have been the end of it. A polite brush-off, an awkward silence, and she’d leave. But, of course, she didn’t. Stupid bitch.

"You from around here?" she continued, tilting her head, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers like she was a walking cliché. I took a slow sip of my drink, waiting to see if Jungkook would shut this down himself. But when he hesitated—whether out of politeness or just not knowing how to cut her off—I decided to step in to preserve my sanity. I leaned forward, casually placing my hand on Jungkook’s forearm, my fingers lightly dragging against his skin. "He’s with me," I said sweetly, my voice laced with fake innocence. "His girlfriend."

Finally—finally—she looked at me, blinking as if she had just now realized I was sitting there. And then she laughed. She fucking laughed. The audacity.

"Ohhh," she dragged out, shaking her head. "I thought you were his sister."

I stared at her, deadpan. "His what?"

"Sister," she repeated, like I was the one who wasn’t getting it. "You guys don’t really look like a couple, you know?"

Jungkook visually tensed in front of me, his jaw clenching, his fingers tightening around his glass. But before he could say anything, I tilted my head, mirroring her condescending smirk.

"Aww," I cooed, my voice just as fake as hers. "That’s funny, because I thought a bitch like you would know her place." I flashed her the sweetest smile. "Guess we were both wrong."

Her smirk vanished instantly. "Excuse me?"

"You’re excused," I said, giving a dismissive wave of my fingers. "Bye bye now."

She scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Wow. Insecure much?"

Jungkook finally spoke, his voice laced with irritation. "You should leave."

The girl huffed, rolling her eyes before muttering something under her breath and stomping off. I smirked, stabbing my fork into my dessert with a little too much force. "Well," I muttered, chewing aggressively, "that was fun."

Jungkook exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back in the booth, watching me with amusement. "Damn, I didn’t know you had it in you to be jealous?"

I shot him a glare. "Shut up I’m not jealous."

His smirk widened. "You totally are."

"Oh, so now you see things clearly, huh? Where was all this awareness when she was flirting with you?" I huffed, grabbing my drink.

Jungkook lifted his hands in mock surrender, "I wasn’t even flirting back."

"You didn’t shut her down, either."

He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "I was trying to be nice."

"Nice?" I scoffed. "Jungkook, she practically climbed into your lap."

He rolled his eyes. "You’re being dramatic."

I lifted my chin, turning away. "Whatever. Enjoy your fan club."

Jungkook chuckled, reaching for my hand, but I pulled it away before he could touch me. A flash of something dark flickered across his face, and I smirked in return, if he thought this was over he had another thing coming.

The second we got home, Jungkook was all over me. His hands slipped around my waist as soon as we stepped inside, pulling me against him. His lips brushed the shell of my ear as he murmured, "Still mad?"

I smoothly stepped out of his grip, strolling toward the bedroom without so much as a glance in his direction.

Jungkook frowned. "Uh… babe?"

Silence. I grabbed my oversized sleep shirt—the one that barely covered my thighs—and changed into it, knowing exactly what I was doing. When I climbed into bed, Jungkook was already watching me, arms crossed, brow raised. "Alright, what’s going on?"

I sighed dramatically. "Nothing. I’m just enforcing a new rule."

His eyes narrowed. "A rule?"

"Mhm." I turned onto my side, away from him. "No touching."

Jungkook blinked. "No touching?"

"That’s right."

He scoffed. "You’re joking."

I didn’t respond. A few beats passed, then I felt the bed dip as he slid in beside me. His body heat was familiar, comforting—but I refused to acknowledge it. A second later, his lips ghosted over my shoulder, fingers trailing down my side. "Baby…" he murmured, voice low, coaxing.

I dodged, rolling over at the last second. "Goodnight, Jungkook."

He groaned. "What?"

I stretched, pretending to get comfortable. "I’m sleepy."

Jungkook sat up, eyes darkening. "You’re actually doing this?"

I smiled, acting completely oblivious. "Doing what?"

His jaw flexed. "You know what."

I shrugged. "Maybe next time, you won’t let other girls flirt with you."

Jungkook groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Babe, come on."

Jungkook was silent for a few seconds, and I thought maybe—just maybe—he’d give up and go to sleep. But I was wrong. Because a second later, I felt him shift again, his fingers trailing down my arm, slow and deliberate.  He let out a quiet chuckle, the sound low and dangerous. "No touching, huh?"

"Mhm."

His fingers moved again, this time ghosting over my hip. "So if I do this—" his hand grazed my thigh, barely touching, teasing, "—you won’t react?"

I forced my expression to stay neutral, even as a shiver threatened to creep up my spine. "Nope."

Jungkook exhaled a quiet laugh, but I could hear the frustration underneath it. "Baby…" His voice dropped, taking on that tone—the one he used when he wanted something. When he was desperate.

I fought the urge to smirk.

"Jungkook," I said, feigning innocence. "Why are you still awake?"

He let out another sigh, flipping onto his stomach, burying his face into the pillow for a second before turning his head to look at me.

"Because you’re torturing me," he grumbled, voice muffled.

I turned my head slightly, finally meeting his gaze. "Oh? And here I thought you didn’t mind when girls played with you." He groaned, reaching out again, but I moved away just before he could grab me.

"Aylah," he whined, his patience slipping. "Princess, come on—I didn’t do anything wrong!"

I raised a brow. "You let her flirt with you."

"I was just being polite!"

"You didn’t shut her down fast enough."

His eyes narrowed. "She didn’t shut up fast enough."

I hummed. "Mm, interesting. And yet I had to be the one to do it."

Jungkook groaned again, rolling onto his back, throwing an arm over his face. "Baby, please," he muttered. "You know you’re the only one I want, just let me make it up to you."

I stayed quiet.

"Oh, you’ll definitely be making it up to me," I mused, tilting my head slightly. "But we’re going to do this my way."

Jungkook’s eyes flickered with something dark, something intrigued, and before I could even process it, he was already nodding eagerly. "I’ll do anything," he murmured, his voice low, dripping with sincerity. "As long as you forgive me."

I let the silence stretch for a moment, letting his own anticipation work against him.Then, I smirked. "Good boy," I murmured, reaching out to lightly trail a single finger down his chest, stopping just above the waistband of his sweatpants.

His breath hitched. "Now… lay down for me."

Jungkook swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes searched mine. There was something almost vulnerable in his expression—like he was completely at my mercy. And he was. Without hesitation, he shifted back onto the mattress, lying flat against the pillows, watching me carefully. His chest rose and fell a little quicker now, his hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for me but was forcing himself to behave.

I grinned, leaning over him, my lips hovering just above his. "Now, let’s see how well you can listen." I whispered, watching as his eyes darkened. Jungkook lasted about five seconds before he broke. His hands twitched at his sides, fingers curling and uncurling, his entire body tense with the urge to touch me. But when I leaned in just a little closer, my breath ghosting over his lips, he snapped.

He moved—fast—his hands flying up to grab my waist. I swatted them away immediately. "Oh, come on," he groaned, his frustration obvious, his head dropping back against the pillow.

I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. "I mean what I said—no touching."

Jungkook exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw clenching. "Baby, please—"

I smirked, dragging a finger down the center of his chest, watching as his muscles tensed beneath my touch. "You’re not in control tonight, Jungkook." My voice was soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.

His eyes flickered with something dangerous—something needy. And then, before he could protest, I reached over to the bedside table, my fingers brushing against the delicate ribbon I had worn in my hair earlier that night. It was smooth and silky, the perfect length.

Jungkook watched me carefully, his brows furrowing. "What are you—" But he didn’t get to finish. Because in one swift movement, I grabbed both of his wrists, pinning them above his head.

His breath hitched. "Aylah—"

I wrapped the ribbon around his wrists, looping it securely before tying it in place. It wasn’t too tight—I wasn’t actually trying to restrain him. But it was firm enough that he wouldn’t be able to touch me unless I let him. When I sat back, admiring my work, Jungkook let out a sharp breath, tugging at the restraints experimentally.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered under his breath, his fingers flexing as he realized he was actually at my mercy now.

I smiled sweetly. "Told you—you’re not in control tonight."

Jungkook exhaled shakily, his eyes darkening as he looked up at me, completely at my mercy. "Babe…" His voice was lower now, more desperate. "What are you gonna do to me?"

I grinned, dragging my fingers down his chest again—just light enough to tease, just enough to drive him insane. "Oh, love," I whispered, leaning in close, my lips barely brushing his jaw. "You’ll see."

Jungkook was falling apart. His body tensed beneath me, muscles flexing as he pulled against the ribbon, his fingers curling into fists like he was dying to touch me—but he couldn’t. And that made it so much better. I smirked, letting my lips trail back up his chest, slowly, taking my time, dragging my nails lightly over his skin just to tease him. His breath hitched when I reached his collarbone, and I felt him tremble as I hovered there, letting my lips ghost over the sensitive spot.

"Aylah," he groaned, his voice strained. "princess, please—"

I ignored him. Instead, I sank my teeth into the delicate skin right at the base of his neck, sucking hard, determined to leave a mark—something deep, something dark, something no one could miss. Jungkook gasped, his back arching slightly off the bed. "Fuck—"

I grinned against his skin, my tongue flicking out to soothe the bite before moving lower, repeating the process. Biting. Sucking. Marking. His breath came out in ragged pants, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might break. "Aylah—fuck—"

I moved to the other side of his neck, my teeth grazing over the smooth skin before biting again, just as hard.

"Shit—"

His head tipped back, exposing more of his throat to me, and I took full advantage of it, trailing my mouth over every inch of bare skin, leaving a path of dark purple and red in my wake. Jungkook was completely at my mercy—helpless, desperate, mine. I smirked as I moved up, kissing along his jaw, feeling the way it tensed beneath my lips, the way his breath shook.

Then, finally, I reached his ear. I let my lips brush against the shell of it, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Let me show all those bitches who think they have a chance who you belong to."

Jungkook groaned, his body jerking beneath me, his hands pulling at the restraints like he was seconds away from breaking free. "Fuck," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "Baby, please—untie me—"

I smirked, pulling back slightly to admire my work. His neck and collarbone were covered in marks, deep bruises painting his skin—a map of my possession. I ran my fingers over them lightly, watching the way his stomach tensed at my touch. "No," I murmured, tilting my head. "Not yet."

Jungkook let out a frustrated groan, his eyes dark and hazy as he looked up at me. "Aylah," he gritted out, his voice almost a warning. "You’re killing me."

I grinned. "Good."

Jungkook groaned loudly, his fingers twisting against the ribbon, his entire body shaking beneath me. "Baby, please—"

I smirked, dipping down, letting my lips barely brush his. "Beg me."

Jungkook’s breath hitched.

"Babe—"

"Beg, Jungkook," I murmured, tilting my head slightly, my lips ghosting over his but never quite touching. "Tell me how much you want me."

Jungkook swallowed hard, his body thrumming with need. "I want you so fucking bad," he rasped. "Please, baby—just let me touch you. Let me hold you. Let me—" He cut himself off with a groan, his head falling back. "Fuck—Aylah, please."

I let the silence stretch, just watching him, letting him writhe beneath me. I watched as Jungkook’s body tensed, every muscle tight with anticipation as I slowly untied the ribbon around his wrists. He let out a shaky breath, clearly relieved, but there was no release just yet.

"Sit up," I commanded softly, my voice cool, but with an edge that made it clear I wasn’t done with him.

He nodded, his eyes still burning with desire. As he moved to sit up against the headboard, I helped him with a hand on his chest to make sure he wasn’t too unsteady. His breathing was still ragged, chest rising and falling quickly. I could feel his heart pounding beneath my fingertips. Once he was sitting back, his body leaning slightly against the headboard, I stood up, watching him with a smug smirk on my face. His eyes followed my every movement, the fire in them never dimming. He was desperate, and that just made the moment even sweeter for me.

"You’re so good for me, Jungkook," I said quietly, my voice dripping with sweetness and something more dangerous. His lips parted, but he didn’t say anything—he was waiting. His hands clenched at his sides, still unused to not being able to touch. I smirked, bending down to grab the ribbon from the bed. The same one that had bound his wrists just moments ago. I brought it up to his face, letting it trail across his cheek. He looked up at me with those dark, desperate eyes, his mouth opening again like he was going to say something. But I stopped him with a raised finger.

"I told you," I said, my voice just above a whisper. "You’re not in control tonight."

He exhaled sharply, his lips trembling, but he didn’t argue. He understood. Slowly, I took the ribbon and held it in front of his eyes, making sure he was watching it, letting the silk slip through my fingers. Then, with one smooth motion, I wrapped it around his eyes, tying it gently at the back of his head, effectively blindfolding him.

His body froze, but he didn’t protest. His breathing was shallow, his entire frame on edge. He was blind, vulnerable, and I could feel the shift in the air—the power had shifted, and now he was completely dependent on me.

"How does it feel?" I asked softly, watching him as his lips parted again, the words caught in his throat. "Not being able to see? Not knowing what I’ll do next?"

He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper as he replied, "Fuck, it feels..."

He didn’t finish, but I could tell what he meant. He was on the edge of losing control, and I was loving every second of it.

"Good," I said, my fingers tracing the edge of his blindfold. "Now you’ll have to trust me, won’t you?"

He nodded, his head slightly jerking up, but his hands remained still at his sides, as if waiting for my next move.

"I’m going to make sure you remember who you belong to," I whispered, stepping closer, my lips brushing against his ear, letting my breath tickle his skin. "Every inch of you."

He shuddered beneath me, his body alive with electricity. I could feel his restraint, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. He was mine—completely and utterly mine. And tonight, I was going to take my time making sure he knew it.

[newtkive]

confectionary clash - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x afab!reader (established relationship)

summary: carmy's girl is the human embodiment of a sweetheart. that is, unless it's that time of the month and richie provokes her.

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, fighting, weaponized incompetence from richie but we still love him.

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble but turned into 3k words. so it's written kinda like a drabble?? (hence the lowercase i can't be arsed to change) but just... long. idk hopefully its entertaining. also, i don't mean to demonize richie, he's my favorite character i think,, i just love writing him as problematic lmao cuz he's so funny. anyways, enjoy!

as carmy’s confidant and girlfriend, you were always the voice of reason. with just a string of words, you’d be calming him down after a hectic work day, giving him a fresh perspective on his work dilemmas since you were outside of the restaurant circle. in the time he’s known you, he hadn’t seen you do as much as barely raise your voice. maybe the occasional snap, but you always follow it up with swift apologies and big watery eyes.

that is, unless you’re in pain. specifically cramps. the sight of you 180ing from a sweet girl with a bright smile and even sweeter words, to an evil sorceress with spells rolling off your tongue, inflicting curses onto anyone who irritates you is jarring. a bit dramatic, sure, but that’s what you were during that time of the month—dramatic.

carmy tries best to dote on you. you would never ask him to go out of his way for something, unless it’s grabbing a heating pad or water, but carmy wants you to. it takes prying to hear your desires and cravings after asking a million times, and you begrudgingly give in with no expectations. nevertheless, you end up with exactly what you asked for, or something close to it, and you’re endlessly grateful.

on days when you stop into the restaurant when you’re feeling down, carmy enacts this same routine. if it’s food, he’ll cook it for you; desserts, he’ll grab any extras marcus has (or marcus happily makes it from scratch if they're not busy, claiming he needs the practice). if you want snacks, he sends his right hand man richie out to grab them despite your protests.

richie does it often whenever you stop into the store, and he acts like it’s a chore sometimes, but everyone has a hunch that he really loves it. come on, twenty dollars to get a few items for you and pocket the rest for himself? plus a break from work? done deal.

richie wouldn’t admit it, but he liked taking care of you too. you were always a sweetheart to him, but it wasn’t in his personality to be as sincere as you, so this was a little act of service to show his love. besides, the year and a half you’ve known him has definitely earned you the title of a friend, and you’d agree.

now, you don’t ever want to seem ungrateful, but when you ask for a specific treat, you get disappointed when you don’t really get it. maybe it’s the fluctuating mood talking, but you always end up snapping at richie due to his poor choices. if you ask for one thing, he’ll get you the next, and you even suspect he does it on purpose sometimes. pulling reactions from people is his specialty.

it’s not like you’re a complete bitch about it, because he took his time out to go get you something, but richie has a problem with weaponized competence even with his new and improved attitude. you know he can get you the jolly ranchers you suggested, but he chooses to grab goldfish because it’s closer to checkout. it was annoying, but you never really brought it up to carmy. it's not like you needed to, it wasn't a huge deal. you figured richie could use the little break, and you don’t hate the snacks he brings.

except on days like this.

you were at the restaurant on a slow day, dragged yourself out of bed despite your cramps just to see your little grumpy boyfriend and hide in his office. even as you entered the establishment through the back you glared at richie (who sweetly waved) in passing, side eyeing a few of the newbies who ran in front of you despite their apologies. none of your usual bright smiles and cheery greetings. the bee line straight to the office was a clear enough explanation for how you were feeling.

upon entering, carmy looked up in a panic, which quickly melted into a soft smile at the sight of his girlfriend. “hey, baby.” he cooed softly, immediately scooting back from his desk to reach out to grasp at your waist. you let him, but pushed down the irritation, not favoring touch at the moment. however, his rough hands sliding a little under your shirt to grasp at the flesh of your hips calmed you down, earning a small quirk of the lips from you.

“whatcha doin’ here, love?” he asks, bringing one of your hands to his lips to kiss softly, still looking up at you.

you shrug, squeezing his hand, face a bit stoic. you’d been like this for a couple of days so he wasn’t surprised by your lack of friendliness. knowing you this long, carmy became accustomed to your monthly mood swings, and he felt privileged that you didn’t feel the need to put up an act for him.

“missed you.” you finally sighed, scooting closer so you stood between his knees. palms found both sides of carmy’s face and tilted it upwards a bit so you could study his appearance. stressed and tired. however, he seemed to glow at the mere admission of you missing him. it took a few seconds for his brain to rewire, looking up at you like you created the cosmos. the only reason you heard his soft, shy, ‘missed you too’ was because of the stagnant silence.

“hungry?” carmy asked, beaming from the attention. you shrugged again, allowing him to tighten his grip on your sides and tug you onto his lap. whining a bit in protest, you reposition yourself, legs falling over his lap and arms around his neck. your faces were closer now, and carmy looked at your sad eyes with a little pang in his chest. brows furrowing, he tilted his head and snuck a hand under your chin. long, tattooed fingers tickled at your chin, and before you knew it you were giggling and grinning while batting his hand away.

“cmon, i know you must want somethin’.” your grin was infectious and laced in his soft words. you hummed, already cheered up, and tapped a finger against your chin to make a thinking face. carmy chuckled, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes and patiently waited.

a thought crossed your mind and you met gazes again. “i might go grab some little debbie snacks from around the corner.” you decided and nodded to yourself as if solidifying your decision.

as you started sitting up more, carmy’s grip tightened on your waist. “ah, ah, no. stay here.” he protested. soon enough he was calling out ‘cousin!’ and richie came bounding over, opening the office door.

richie’s face used to contort in disgust at any visual sign of affection exchanged between you and carmy, but he was used to it now. “what’s up, cousin?” he asked, almost seeming out of breath, eyes flickering between the both of you.

a short exchange between the two occurred: carmy asking richie to run to the corner store, handing richie a twenty, and richie asking you precisely what you wanted. you made it simple and easy, something he could remember: oreos and ho-hos, a midwestern's guilty pleasure.

“ight, cap’n, i’ll be back.” richie says, saluting you two before heading out. both you and carmy exchanged an amused smirk, knowing the only reason richie went was to get himself some cigarettes and hot fries he would scarf down on the walk back.

__

in the twenty minutes richie was gone, the kitchen had gone to shit. the newbies had been running the wrong food to tables, online orders were filling the tablet nonstop due to a discount glitch, and carmy was close to losing it. sitting in the office, now alone with the muffled sound of your boyfriend yelling, you were more grumpy than before. arms crossed, you snapped your head to the side once the door creaked open. in walked richie with a plastic bag, inside of it holding your hope for a better day.

"what took you so long?" you frowned up at him, but sat up straighter in anticipation. you eyes almost shone as you looked at corner store logo on the bag.

"went the long way." he mumbled, digging in the plasic. the skeptical look on your face didn't leave as he pulled out an item and set it on the table. your frown deepened further as you noticed there was nothing at all you asked for, only met with a crushed sleeve of crackers.

“where are the oreos?” you sighed out, lips pursed in a bit of a pout.

“didn’t find any, so i got you some peanut butter crackers.” he mumbled, digging around the bag again, as if he didn’t just break your heart. if it was anyone else you'd believe them, but with richie you figured he just got bored of looking.

your jaw fell slack and you gaped like a fish for a moment, waiting for him to pull out more treats from his bag. but that time didn’t come, as he fished a pack of cigarettes out instead. “and the ho-ho’s?” your voice was hopeful.

richie perked up at that, putting the cigarettes down next to the crackers. the next second he presented you with a smushed mountain of brown and white concealed in a plastic wrapper sitting atop the palm of his hand. eyes flicking between the disappointment before you and his face, you frowned in disbelief.

richie only managed to emote as much as a ‘yikes’ face before placing it on the desk. “got smushed in transit, but tastes the same!” he gave his best attempt at a smile. your brows grew taut together and anger bubbled up in your chest. you were sure your face was quickly turning red.

“carmy gave you twenty dollars, and you come back with this?!” you hiss out, daring to look at the dry crackers and smushed up dream of a ho-ho. the sight only made you become angrier. this was something a senile old person would give you, not a competent 40-something-year-old man. his lack of care was clear, and you were boiling.

richie just scoffed—he had the nerve to scoff.

“no, not just that! i got a sprite and a few pack of cigs for myself and the guy.” he waved around one of them to prove his point. if you thought you were mad before, you reached a new level of anger. usually, you’d deal with the disappointment and thank richie for even going—aside from a smart alec remark.

however, the demon conducting your period for this month did not make your rational decisions seem clear nor enticing. as you shot up from carmy’s chair, you only knew you wanted to make richie as upset as you were in this moment.

with one finger poking his chest, you began raising your voice. as soon as you started talking, richie's eyes turned wide as saucers, exactly like a deer in headlights. a string of curses snuck into your tirade, between phrases such as “you always fucking do this richie!” and “are you fuckin’ dumb?! did you get dropped on your head?!”. you only figured he didn't fire back right away because he was so stunned.

outside of the office, the kitchen was calmer now. things were finally falling into order but still required carmy’s supervision until the sudden rush ended. the only disturbance was you. now, it was your voice yelling behind closed doors and not carmy’s.

the chef—in the middle of helping sydney plate a dish—just about gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around to look at the barely cracked door of the office. there was the telltale muffled yelling, but what shocked him was it was clearly you yelling.

turning back around, carmy gawked at sydney who silently shared the same look of surprise. it was only until they heard richie start yelling back that sydney silently pushed him toward the door. it didn’t take more than a second for carmy to snap out of his surprise and march over to the office.

throwing the hand towel he was using over his shoulder, he yanked the heavy door open before all but body slamming his way into the room and slamming the door closed. the yelling was suddenly clear, as if carmy was being pulled out from underwater.

“YOU GET ME WHAT I ASKED YOU, OR GET ME NOTHING AT ALL!”

“THEN YOU’D BITCH ABOUT THAT TOO—“

“OR NOTHING AT ALL!”

“hey, hey, HEY!” the two of you were too busy at each others throats to even hear carmy enter, until his voice brought you both to a halt, heads turning towards him.

carmy’s eyes were immediately glued to you, not paying the least bit of attention to richie. your arms were stiff as boards to your sides, fists and jaw clenched, brows taut, and race beet red. the man had never seen you look like this before, and his instinct to comfort you took over. turning to richie with a look that could kill, carmy finally spoke. “what did you do?”

“what did i do?! except take precious time to get your girl shit she didn’t even want?!”

an offended gasp left your mouth, and you retorted instantly. “oh please! because a crushed up sleeve of crackers and a mountain of mushed up cake is just what i asked for!”

“you’re ungrateful.” richie pointed a finger at you now. carmy launched forward and slapped it down. he knew richie would never hurt you, and you knew it too, as you just rolled your eyes in response, but carmy’s instinct’s took over. richie didn’t even look phased, just irritated. carmy stood in front of you and forcefully turned richie around by his shoulders to send him to the door. if carmy didn't have half of a sane mind, he would’ve kicked richie's bottom with his shoe for good measure.

“go take a break chef! or do whatever the fuck, i don’t care.” carmy shouted after richie, and the man left with a slam of the door.

you simply watched the scene unfold with arms crossed and that same deep set frown. carmy turned around to face you as the air settled, a hand running through his hair. blue eyes raked over your tense form and carmy decided he would give you a little space to calm down. however, the second he saw your bottom lip wobbling and eyes grow watery he threw that thought to the wind

“hey, no, no, don’t cry.” carmy extended his arms and collected you into them. the tense posture you held relaxed into his slouched form as he held you close; one hand in your hair, and the other rubbing circles on your back as you sniffled.

a pit of guilt burned in your stomach and spurred you into attempting to bury yourself into carmy. blue straps of his apron rubbed against your cheek as you shuffled impossibly closer. usually, carmy would love this, but right now he'd do anything to not see you so out of it. shushing you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

there were a few beats of you hiding away before you decided to pull back a bit to face him again—and boy did you look pitiful.

the same cheeks previously bright with anger were now flush with embarrassment and stained with tears. a tattooed hand found itself sitting on your cheek, thumb rubbing under your eye to collect a fallen tear. at the touch, your eyes fluttered closed, and carmy’s heart broke at the sight.

“you gonna tell me what happened?” your boyfriend asked, trying not to make you feel even more guilty. his full attention was on you. exhaling slowly, your eyes fluttered back open and were met with those bright blue ones that always calmed you down.

“i dunno, i just-“ you shook your head and carmy waited patiently, “it wasn’t even a big deal, but richie just really set me off for some reason.”

“yeah, may as well join the club.” carmen’s words were light, not at all sarcastic, but aiming to ease you and bring out a smile. it worked, your lips turning upwards and carmy mimicking the half smile. he looked down at you with such love, head tilted to follow every time yours moved, and thumb caressing your cheek as he took in every expression.

your smile finally faltered as you glanced back at the office desk. “i feel so awful. he went out and got me stuff and i just yelled at him.” you sputter out.

carmy followed your gaze over his shoulder to finally see what started all of this. at the sight of the crackers and ball of what looked like mush, carmy scoffs in both disbelief and amusement, because of course richie would bring you that. turning back towards you, the chef finally gets it.

“baby, if someone brought me that shit while my insides were shedding i’d kill them.” he chuckled.

“really?” you asked hopefully, smile forming again.

“yes, really. even if i wasn’t goin’ through that i’d actually kick his ass.” carmy mirrored your smile.

nodding, you let yourself chuckle along with him. strong arms found you again and you were wrapped in a tight hug, allowing his squeezes to take away some guilt you were feeling. a moment passed and you knew carmy had to get back to work. with a sigh, you pulled back.

it was your turn to reach up and cup his cheek. guiding his face close, you met him halfway and pressed your lips to his in a kiss. lips moving against his, your noses brushed, and after a moment you let the kiss dissipate; lips slowly falling away from where they were molded together. one last peck was placed on carmy’s lips, as if saying, ‘thank you for being so attentive’. that earned an appreciate hum.

you both beamed, faces still close as you came back down to earth. “you gotta get back to work, and i gotta apologize.” you murmured and carmy nodded obediently.

with apprehension, carmy let you go, arms floating in the air for half a second as he walked backwards towards the door. “don’t go easy on him, though. richie lives for a fight. that was probably his anger management for the day.” carmy smirked, grasping the doorknob.

you just shook your head, eyes narrowed teasingly. before he turned to leave, you called out to him. “thank you, carmy.”

the man just gave you a confused look, chuckling. “don’t thank me, you're my girl.” with that he was back to work and you were left to your own devices. with one more glance at the monstrosity on the office desk, you left the room and went on a search for richie.

thirty minutes later, carmy was due for a smoke break and approached the back door. he slowed his tracks, lighter and cigarette in hand as he cracked the door and heard giggling. the sight before him was drastically different than before: you and richie sitting on a ledge next to each other, giggling and bumping shoulders. carmy breathed out a laugh at the sight and fully walked out. this caught both of your attention, grinning ear to ear as you clearly made up.

“hey, cousin!” richie grinned, and you both waved. figures.

[buckets-and-trees]

What would happen if It Fit Too Right!Steve showed up for a filthy booty call only to find you a pathetic sick mess burrowed in bed and near delirious with a fever? 🥺

Wifey, you dropped this in my box last June, and I have known EXACTLY what would happen since then, and I've been just waiting to share (since I decided to post the pieces somewhat corresponding to the time of year they would happen).

I Felt More When We Played Pretend

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 3k Summary: April 30, 2018. See above.

Content/Warnings: illness, breaking and entering

Author Note: It was a year ago this week that I wrote the very first drabble for this duo! And then they evolved into a full series. Can you believe it? I feel like they're such a deep part of my writer heart and a constant fixation of my muse.

Previous Part | Series

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You jerked awake with a start, feet tangled in the throw blanket you'd cocooned yourself in earlier. Your feet are burning up, sweaty and uncomfortable. With a groan, you kicked the blanket off, shivering slightly as the cool air hit your overheated skin. You groaned as the motion triggered a coughing fit that scraped at your already raw throat.

The television was still playing in the background, Paul Hollywood critiquing someone's focaccia with that stern look of his. Bread week. It had definitely been cake week cake week when you were last awake and somewhat coherent. But you could tell it was at least still afternoon light coming in through your windows. 

You reached for the half-empty mug of tea on the coffee table. It was stone cold, but you drank it anyway, grimacing slightly. This cold had knocked you flat for nearly a week, leaving you in a perpetual state of exhaustion and congestion, still nowhere near feeling human. 

You ran a hand through your greasy hair, wincing at how disgusting it felt. But not feeling human, a shower hadn’t been something you’d pursued in days, wandering from your bed to the couch and then the bed again as you simply rotated where you took your exhausted shifts of sleeping, only downing cold medicine and a myriad of typically-useful home remedies. 

You reached for the tissue box on the coffee table, pulling out the last one and blowing your nose with a sound that would make anyone cringe. The pile of used tissues beside you was embarrassingly large. You should really clean up, but the thought of moving hovered on the edge of possible but also too exhausting. You sighed and willed yourself to actually look at the pile to assess how much longer you could let it pile up. 

Only it was gone. 

One lone tissue only there - the one you’d just dropped. 

Your frowned. 

You tilted your head. 

Your brain was fuzzy and slow. 

Where did your disgusting pile go?

A clatter from somewhere else in your apartment made you tense. You were absolutely certain you'd been alone all day, all week even. Your muddled brain tried to make sense of this. Who else would be here? You have no roommates. Had you called someone? Had your mom learned you were sick, made a roadtrip to take care of you, and somehow gotten a key to your place? 

You heard more noises from the kitchen, and your heart started hammering in your chest because another foolish thought crossed your cold-addled thoughts…

And then that thought appeared before your eyes.

“Hey invalid,” he greeted, and Steve came into the living room, holding a tray. 

You burst into tears. 

The suddenness of your emotional reaction seemed to catch you both off guard. The sob that escapes you is so sudden it triggers another coughing fit. You cover your mouth with your elbow, shoulders shaking as you try to catch your breath through the tears and coughing.

"Whoa, hey," Steve soothed, quickly setting the tray down on the coffee table. The ceramic mugs clinking against the wood as he sunk onto the couch beside you, one large hand coming to rest on your back. "Easy, breathe."

You couldn’t answer, your tears mixing with your already congested sinuses until you were a snotty, hiccuping mess. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized. 

You shook your head, wiping at your tears with the back of your hand. "It's not that," you managed.

It was mortifying. You were sick, disgusting, and now a blubbering mess in front of this man who kept appearing in your life like some beautiful ghost. You haven't seen him in weeks, and he shows up now? When you're at your absolute worst? It wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry," you said, sniffling. "I'm just—I'm disgusting right now." 

Steve's hand continued to rub soothing circles on your back. His touch was gentle, so at odds with how he usually handled you. 

"You're sick," he corrected, his voice soft. "Not disgusting." 

You looked up at him through watery eyes. He was as perfect as ever—that irresistible beard, hair neatly combed, wearing a simple gray henley that stretched across his broad chest. Meanwhile, you were in the same ratty t-shirt and sweatpants you'd been wearing for at least three days, hair unwashed, face puffy from crying and congestion.

"I made you some soup," Steve said, nodding toward the tray. Soup and tea. 

You hiccuped, trying to gather yourself. "I just... I didn't expect to see you. And I'm a mess and I feel horrible and..." You trailed off, gesturing vaguely at yourself. 

Steve's expression softened. "You think I care about that?"

You couldn't meet his eyes. "This isn’t what you came here for.” You reached for another tissue, because even though you had stopped sobbing you were still crying, so exhausted from being ill, so overwhelmed by him being here. “I can’t bear you seeing me like this. I haven’t showered in days. I can hardly… I’m so tired, and I just–”

“Hey, hey, listen to me,” he firmly interrupted you, voice soft but firm. He cupped your cheek in his hand, turning your face up to look at him. “I came here to spend time with you, and that’s what I’m doing."

Your breath hitched at his words. This wasn't the Steve who fucked you against walls and made you scream his name. This was something else entirely. You searched his face for any sign he was just being polite, but found none. Only genuine concern reflected in those impossibly blue eyes.

"You're really not here for..." you gestured vaguely, unable to even say the word 'sex' in your current state.

Steve shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "Not everything has to be about that."

He reached for the mug of tea on the tray, passing it to you. The warmth seeped into your palms, the steam carrying the scent of honey and lemon to your clogged nostrils. You took a tentative sip, the hot liquid soothing your raw throat.

"This is good," you murmured, taking another sip. The honey coated your throat, bringing blessed relief. 

Steve watched you with an expression you couldn't quite read. "I wasn't sure if you had food in the house. I brought groceries." 

You blinked, processing his words slowly through your congested haze. "You... brought groceries?" 

He nodded, reaching for the bowl of soup. "Chicken noodle. Nothing fancy, but it should help." 

Your fingers trembled slightly as you accepted the bowl, warmth seeping through the ceramic and into your palms. The steam rising from the broth carried the comforting aroma of chicken, herbs, and vegetables. Your stomach rumbled in response—when was the last time you'd eaten a proper meal? 

"Thank you," you whispered. The domesticity of it all was so jarring compared to your usual encounters, you truly didn’t know what to think.

Steve settled beside you on the couch, close enough that you could feel his warmth but not touching. The British baking show continued playing in the background as you cautiously spooned the soup into your mouth. The flavors burst on your tongue, a well-seasoned chicken broth, tender vegetables, soft noodles. It was exactly what your body needed.

"This is really good," you said between spoonfuls. "Did you make this?" 

Steve nodded. "It's my mom's recipe. Well, as close as I can remember it." 

The mention of his mother surprised you. Steve rarely spoke about his past, especially not the distant past before the war and the ice. You glanced at him, curious. 

"She used to make it whenever I got sick," he continued, his eyes distant with memory. "Which was pretty often, before the serum." 

You were struck by the moment, but continued eating the soup. 

"How long have you been sick?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

You took another spoonful of soup, not realizing how much you needed it after days of barely eating. "Almost a week," you admitted. "It hit me hard Wednesday night."

Steve frowned, his eyes scanning your face. "Have you seen a doctor?"

You shook your head. "It's just a cold. A really bad one."

"Hmm," he hummed, not sounding convinced. His hand came up to rest against your forehead, checking your temperature. The gesture was so tender, so caring, it made your chest ache with something that had nothing to do with your congestion.

"You're still warm," he noted. "After you’ve eaten, you should take a shower.”

“Cause I smell?”

He chuckled. “You do,” he admitted, “but I think it will help you feel a little better, too.”

The thought of a shower was both appealing and exhausting. You wanted nothing more than to feel clean again, but the mere idea of standing upright for that long seemed impossible. 

"I don't know if I can stand that long," you admitted, setting the now-empty soup bowl back on the tray. "I get dizzy." 

Steve's eyes softened. "I'll help you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, so matter-of-fact. In all your encounters with Steve, this level of care, of tenderness, was uncharted territory. You'd seen glimpses of it, fleeting moments after sex when he would clean you up or hold you close, but nothing like this.

You set your now-"Steve, you don't have to—"

"I want to," he interrupted gently. His eyes held yours, and there was something in them you hadn't seen before—a vulnerability, a tenderness that made your breath catch. "Let me take care of you." 

Those five words hung in the air between you. This was so far outside the parameters of whatever it was you had with Steve that you didn't know how to respond. Sex was one thing—intense, but the thought of him seeing you so vulnerable, so weak, had you feeling hesitant.

But this was Steve. The man who had seen every inch of your body, who had made you come undone in ways you never thought possible. Why was this so different? 

"Okay," you finally agreed, your voice small. 

Steve helped you up from the couch, his strong arm wrapping around your waist to steady you. The room spun slightly as you stood, and you leaned into him gratefully. 

"I've got you," he murmured, his voice close to your ear.

The walk to the bathroom was slow, your legs shaky beneath you. Steve matched his pace to yours, patient and solid beside you. When you reached the bathroom, he turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature with one hand while keeping the other on your waist.

Steam began to fill the small space as hot water cascaded from the showerhead. Then Steve turned to you, his hands coming to rest at the hem of your t-shirt.

"May I?" he asked quietly. 

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve gently lifted the shirt over your head, his movements clinical and careful. There was nothing sexual in his touch, only care. You felt oddly shy as he helped you undress completely, his eyes never lingering inappropriately. It was so different from every other time he'd removed your clothes.

"Almost ready," Steve said softly. He helped you remove your underwear with the same gentle efficiency, then guided you toward the shower. "Can you stand?"

You nodded, though you weren't entirely sure. "I think so."

"I'll be right here," he promised, helping you step under the warm spray.

The water felt heavenly against your skin, washing away days of fever sweat and lethargy. You closed your eyes, letting it cascade over your face and hair, breathing in the steam that helped clear your congested sinuses. 

For a moment, you felt almost human again. You reached for your shampoo bottle, but your arms felt like lead weights, and you swayed slightly.

"Easy there," Steve said, quickly stepping into the shower behind you, having discarded his own clothes. His strong hands steadied you, holding you upright as the water cascaded over both of you. The sudden feeling of his bare skin against yours was startlingly intimate in a way that had nothing to do with sex.

"I've got you," he murmured, reaching for your shampoo bottle. He poured a generous amount into his palm and began to work it through your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp with gentle pressure. You closed your eyes, leaning back against his solid chest as he washed your hair with careful, methodical movements. 

The feeling of his hands in your hair was hypnotic, soothing in a way you hadn't expected. This wasn't the Steve who pulled your hair during passionate encounters—this was someone else entirely, someone tender and nurturing. 

"Turn around," he said, gently turning you in his arms so you faced him. 

The warm water flowed down your back as Steve carefully tipped your head back, rinsing the shampoo from your hair. His hands were gentle as they worked through the strands, making sure every bit of soap was washed away. You kept your eyes closed, dizzy from the heat and the proximity of him, though not in the way you usually were around Steve. 

Once your hair was rinsed, he reached for your body wash, squeezing some onto a washcloth. With methodical care, he began washing your body, starting with your shoulders and working his way down your arms. His touch was clinical, respectful in a way that made your heart ache. 

"This okay?" he asked softly. 

You nodded, unable to find your voice. There was something so personal about this moment, something that transformed all the physical encounters you'd had into something more meaningful, more real. Steve continued washing you, his movements gentle but thorough. When he finished, he helped you rinse off, supporting your weight as the warm water cascaded over both of you.

"Better?" he asked, his voice low. 

"Much," you whispered. The combination of the hot water, the steam, and Steve's gentle care had eased some of your misery. Your head still felt stuffed with cotton, but the heavy weight of illness seemed slightly lighter. 

"I think I need to get out now," you murmured, your legs starting to feel like jelly beneath you.

"Okay," Steve agreed, turning off the water. He stepped out first, quickly wrapping a towel around his waist before reaching for your fluffy bath towel. He enveloped you in it as you stepped out, using another smaller towel to gently blot the water from your hair.

The bathroom was warm and steamy, but you still shivered slightly. Steve noticed immediately.

"Let's get you dressed," he said, his voice gentle but firm. He kept one arm around you for support as he guided you into your bedroom. The familiar space was welcoming, though you noticed immediately that the tangled sheets and scattered tissues that had been in here too were gone. The bed was neatly made with fresh sheets, a glass of water and your medication waiting on the nightstand.

"You cleaned my room," you murmured, touched by the gesture. 

Steve shrugged, the movement casual but his eyes watchful as he steadied you. "Thought it might help you feel better." 

He helped you to the edge of the bed, then moved to your dresser. "What do you want to wear?" 

"T-shirt, second drawer. Underwear in the top left," you instructed.

Steve returned with a soft t-shirt and a pair of comfortable cotton underwear.

"Arms up," he instructed softly, helping you into a clean t-shirt. His hands were gentle as he guided the soft fabric over your damp hair and down your body. Next came the underwear, Steve kneeling before you to help you step into them. The role reversal was striking—you were usually the one on your knees before him.

Once you were dressed, Steve guided under the covers. The fresh sheets felt heavenly against your skin as you sank into the mattress. Steve tucked the blankets around you with careful hands, then sat on the edge of the bed.

"Better?" he asked, his voice soft. 

You nodded, your eyelids already growing heavy. The shower had helped clear your head somewhat, but it had also drained what little energy you had. 

Steve reached for the glass of water on the nightstand. "You should take your medicine."

You obediently took the pills he offered, washing them down with water. As you handed the glass back, your fingers brushed his. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice thick.

Steve brushed a strand of damp hair from your forehead, his touch lingering against your skin. "You should rest."

"Will you..." you hesitated, suddenly unsure. This was uncharted territory for both of you. "Will you stay?"

Something flickered in Steve's eyes—surprise, maybe, or something deeper. "Of course, I'll stay," he promised softly, “for as long as you need me to.” 

You felt a wave of relief wash over you.

"Thank you," you murmured, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. The combination of warm soup, a hot shower, and clean sheets was quickly pulling you toward sleep. 

You expected Steve to leave the room, perhaps go watch television or sit in the chair in the corner. Instead, he stood and shed the towel from his waist, quickly pulling on his boxer briefs that you now noticed were sitting on the dresser. The bed dipped as he slid in beside you, his body radiating warmth as he settled against the pillows. 

Without thinking, you shifted closer to him, seeking his warmth. Steve's arm came around you, drawing you against his chest. You rested your head in the crook of his shoulder, your body fitting against his as naturally as breathing. 

"Sleep," he murmured, his lips brushing your temple so naturally. 

As you surrendered to unconsciousness, your last thought was that while you would recover from this awful spring cold, you didn’t think you would ever recover from this. 

MORE SOON read more Exiled Nomad Series

For those keeping track of the chronological timeline, this is the end of April 2018. I'm going off this theoretical idea that Avengers Infinity War happened "sometime between April 19th and June 3rd, 2018."

...

just

you know

for reference...

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[tojisteddy]

party 4 u

or: Immortal!reader can’t stop falling in love with Kyle Garrick no matter how hard you try not to.

cw: 3k words (idk tbh) 18+ mdni, angst with plot, no smut, immortal!reader, mentions of death, mentions of blood, violence, heartbreak, unrequited love, reincarnation, no use of y/n.

a/n: another drabbles turned into a long story. Inspo is party 4 u by Charli xcx.

You’d been immortal since you made that fatal mistake. You’ve lived a thousand lives. Youve been a nurse, a dentist, a singer, a vet, bus driver— you name it, you’d probably done it. Especially in this long life. You’ve fell in and out of love, you’ve “died” countless times, had numerous pets, seen loved ones pass too many times.

But you keep getting stuck meeting and falling in love with all of Kyle Garrick reincarnations.

The first time you two met, was a war. Kyle devided and conquered just to have you. You were stunning, citizens of your country were sure you had been the child of the goddess Athena herself. It was a blessing to for anyone to see a glimpse of your glowing brown skin, angelic smile, the heavy crown that adorned your curls everywhere you went, lilac fabric that hugged every one of your curls.

Kyle was lost at the sight of you when you’d visited his country the first time. Astonished that someone could be so mezmorizng. And it wasn’t the way you looked, it was how you showed kindness to whoever you interacted with. From fellow important guests to servants and his countries citizens, all were treated with respect and dignity.

His citizens of course would politely bow for you, they would have to get used to it, you’d lift there heads with your delicate hands or worse, you’d bow back. Giving them a mischievous smile, “Lift your head. I’ve been told you have most wonderful fruit in the land, I’ve come to see it for myself. Plus, I have some friends who’ve been dying to try it back home.”

The citizens adored you, loved you even more when you tipped them. Joined in on the festivals dancing and games. You’d turn into another loved and precious goddess in his country without even trying.

Kyle decided, you wouldn’t be leaving his country after that.

At first there was such a burning hate on your love. He’d taken your family, your home, your loving citizens, your country— you, and made it his own. How dare he try to smile in your face, go on about his life like it was nothing. The man even tried to romance you. The audacity was laughable. Surprisingly enough he didn’t force you into anything. Didn’t want to eat? No issue. Didn’t want to sleep? No issue? Not even go and see daylight? No isssue.

Kyle played the long game.

Your grandmother, former queen of your country, didn’t raise quitters. They raised the best of the best, power no matter the circumstances. You caved, you didn’t know where your family was, but you would survive. Do what you had to, even if that was sharing your meals with the likes of him that stole you away. Taking slow walks around the palace, guards right behind and infront just in case you ran, enjoying the somber and quiet of the scenic view of the castle that overlooked the major town down below.

Correcting the fool when he didn’t understand the deeper meaning in the literature he read to you.

“No, no, no, it’s not just words Kyle. It’s about the wanting. The yearning. Despite everything, through thick and thin, he’s there waiting for her even if the woman got married. He’d wait for her.”

And that fool, would have the stupidest grin on his face. Completely swooning when he heard your voice fill his ears, even if you did sound terribly annoyed with his lack of comprehension. Literature wasn’t his favorite, you were though.

But he sat you down one night, right next to the large lake he’d built out for you. Surrounded by flowers it was rumored you’d liked, he took your hands in his, chills running up his arms when you fingers tickled his own.

“I-I’m in love with you.”

Well, obviously. You scuffed, glancing off.

“I know I’ve made a stupid decision doing all this. But I- if you could just think about falling for me, I’d be forever greatful. If you hate it, just push me away and I’ll give you back. But just for a little while, if you could think about it. Please?” Kyle looked to you with those stupid brown eyes, giving your hands a light squeeze. You let go, looking towards the star filled sky.

“The moon,” you sighed, feeling the cool air on your skin, “it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

But how could Kyle look at the moon at a time like this, when you sat so beautiful in your green dress, breasts spilling out with every breath you took, lashes long.

He was breathless, but nodded, “Yes, yes it is.”

Love is slow, a slow dance to the old song your mother used to hum to you to sleep, and then suddenly it’s filling you. Up, up, up till it’s over spilling— that’s what falling in love was. It’s enchanting, the feeling of true love. Kyle was a dream come true. You’d meet for lunch in his office, dates in town, endless conversations of the future, hopes and dreams. Sneaking kisses whenever he got close enough. Kyle was a sly dog who melted your heart so easily. If only he had done things right, had courted you like a gentleman.

But there was so much in the way, you were spoken for before Kyle took you. By some old cunt who didn’t see you as anything but a tool to control your country, with plans to destroy the lower class.

There was only one way to save it. Save you.

You were being introduced to new servants that would attend to you— Dimitri. He was your right hand since childhood. You sobbed as soon as you got the chance to be alone with him.

“Listen to me well your highness, you mustnt tell a soul, alright?” You nodded at his words.

“We are planning a revolution. We deserve our home back. I’m here to kill the king.” Your stomach dropped. Kill the king? Kill Kyle? No. No way.

“But the king- he- Dimitri, he’s not that bad-“ you stammered, you sounded foolish.

Dimitri’s eyes squinted at you, confused, “Do you know how many of our people he’s killed? How many people have been uprooted [+], because of him?”

“I understand-“

“No, you don’t understand!” He whisper yelled, crossing the room towards you. “My brother is gone because of him! It doesn’t matter if he tries to smile in our faces, or give us new homes— family is family. I will avenge my brother if it’s the last thing I do.”

Dimitri pulls out a knife and you stumble back into your vanity. “This is yours, your highness. You could do it. Right in his sleep in five nights. It will be perfect.”

You shake your head, eyes finding his that were shaking. Erratic. “Dimitri, I-I can’t. There has to be another way.”

“It’s for your country princess. Think of your people, your land, your family— your mother. You have to. Save your country [+].” He slips the pocket knife into your shaking palms. Enclosing it in your hand with a gentle pat.

“Five nights. You do it, or I will.” He repeats.

Your stomach continuously turned, what right did you have to fall in love with the man that attacked you home, your family?

You had no other choice. You either prove your love of your country by slitting his throat, or you take the blade the servant reserved for Kyle yourself.

You didn’t want to kill him. Kyle had so much to live for, he had a vision. Create a country that celebrated both your country’s history, marry you right at the border, on the shores, citizens from all around in attendance. But he ran into your knife, you’d thought you heard some strange noise, went to go investigate yourself. You two ran into each other, the knife entering his abdomen. Blood spread through his attire, you immediately went to him.

“It’s okay [+], it’s okay.” He coo’s Tears filled your eyes.

“It’s not okay! I need to get a physician. Give me one moment Kyle-“ but you can’t even stand to get before Kyle grips your wrist tightly.

“[+], it’s okay.” He insists, cupping your cheek, “I know about the plans. It’s okay.”

“Kyle, listen to me. That wasn’t- this wasn’t my plan. None of this was my plan. I didn’t want any of this! I wanted- I wanted to be-“ you choke on your own words.

I wanted to be with you.

“-I know.” He winces. It’s the words you two have left unsaid. Hanging in the air. He coughs, “Your family, is on the countryside. Safe. The counsil wanted the dead but- ugh- I could let them be treated like that. You take that jewelry box on the nightstand and run to them. For me, okay? Live your life just as you wanted [+].”

Why didn’t he tell you that sooner? Why didn’t he you that they’d been okay? Safe? Did he think you’d run once you’d heard those words? Never come back? You want to groan, punch him in the face, but you just shake your head, applying pressure onto the stab wound with trembling hands. Tears spilling over your face.

“I would’ve chosen you Kyle. A thousand times, I would’ve always chosen you.” You sob.

Faintly, the ends of lips curve up, caressing your cheek with his weak hand, “I’ve always loved- I love-“ Kyle chokes on his own blood. The words unable to come out. He gives you a nod, go. You kiss him like it’s the last time, gently on his pretty lips. Youre shaking when you scramble yourself up, one last look to his handsome face, then you grabbed the jewelry box and ran.

You didn’t even get to lay Kyle to rest, the guards were coming, you had to go in your blood stained dress, bare foot through the woods, still crying. You went exactly to the place he said your family was. It didn’t take long to hear that the king was dead. The revolution didn’t end up happening. Kyle’s younger brother taking the thrown. You prayed to the heavens to let you atone for your sins, let you see Kyle one more time.

But this wasn’t what you asked for. A curse fell upon you. You’ve tried everything to die, gotten in car crashes, took as many drugs as you could, stabbed yourself— to no avail. You were stuck on this earth until some other power took you.

You’d known John since he was a kid, about eight when his parents asked you to babysit him and his younger sister. John was one of the people few people who saw you, spotting out the tiredness in your deep brown eyes that hid behind your youth.

“You wanna take a nap? I’ll protect you and the baby,” He offered, big blue eyes peering up at you. You wanted to laugh, a cute little thing. Eager to prove himself, an adult label him as strong. “I’m good baby, thank you though.”

John had to be twenty five when he found out you were immortal. There was no way you, who had been twenty-three, nineteen years ago and still look exactly the same. No frown lines, no weight gained nor lost, no facial or body changes from surgery (and John was one that could tell). You were still his hot childhood crush from all those years that he gave up on. You’d confessed without a second thought, what did you have to lose at this point?

John was still the same as you’d known him to be; patient, understanding, protective— he was like a kid brother to you. Even though now, as you made your way over to him after him being in no man’s land for months with his comrades, the child you baby sat was getting old. Grays showing in his beard, more worry lines in his forehead, hairline receding, but he still looked at you with those giddy ocean blue eyes.

“Can’t believe you’re actually showing up [+].” You finally agreed to meet John and his friends. You needed a night out after the long and tedious move from Canada. You’d have a laugh and a drink, enjoy his friends company.

“It’s actually Shannon according to my documents.” Way of the world, there was no way you could live for 1000 years and not change your name a couple times. It’d been five years, you’re always off somewhere since you can never stay too longs people ask too many questions. You kept in contact with the aging man though, a few calls and texts here and there. John was so text savvy you couldn’t keep up with some of the things he’d sent you.

“We’re sat in the back, you can’t miss the man with the skull mask when you see it.”

Skull mask?

“Just trust me old woman, nothing to worry about!”

You hadn’t even realized you said your words aloud— hold it— old?

Your mouth opens in astonishment and amusement, “Now you listen here you little fuckin brat-“

“—The musics getting loud, can’t hear you!” And the call disconnects.

You chuckle to yourself, that old man was still such a fucking kid. The bars crowded, typical for Saturday night. The bar was filled with regular civilians and then the military folks who noticeably just got off of work. You’d seen that skull mask from a fair distance away, the brute was tall, out of place but had a glint in his eyes.

You didn’t even need to see the front of his face to know who it was. Brown skin, a short fade showing off his little curls atop of his head, big ears, and that annoyingly contagious laugh.

You’d felt nauseous.

Immediately turning on your heals and out the door.

John pout was noticeable through his beard, standing up and looking around for that head of curls you could never tame, mumbling where the hell you were.

Ghost cocked his head, licit ing his drink to sip on his beer, “She’s gone.”

Gone?

His phone buzzed.

‘Feeling sick. Let’s catch up next time.’

You weren’t one to run away from anything.

John knew that, not even that Great Dane came pouncing on you that scared him and his sister when he was kid, not when someone tried to rob you at knife point when he was ten and not when you had to perform cpr on his sister after she went swimming by herself when she wasn’t supposed to.

But there was one time, one singular time John remembers all too well because he’d never seen such fear in your eyes. You were shopping for him and his sisters school clothes, listening to the story his sister was rambling on about, and then your smile dropped when they touched. You almost dropped the bag in your hand. You lifted his sister and started walking in the opposite direction. “Why are we leaving? We just got here!” John whined standing in place.

Your eyes snapped to the little boy, and he almost gasped at the state of you. Those tired eyes were there again. “Just- damn it John-“ you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration then bent down, smoothing out his hair and gave him the best smile you could, “John, I need you to help me out? Watch my back for me, alright?”

Young John didnt hesitate to protect you, he saw you as a princess, just like the stories you’d told him as a child. And he your loyal servant. A mini Dimitri.

John hadn’t realized the stories you told him, which you’d tweaked to be age appropriate, were about you till you confessed you were immortal. And he’d remembered those details you said, like you were recalling something that just happened. Gaz fit the description to a T.

The man pressed you about when he randomly came over for lunch, dangling a bag of Nandos in hand.

You were a sucker for free food.

“Does- does the man you love— he’s the sergeant under me, isn’t he?” There’s an uncomfortable pause, the only sound of the mini tv and the crumbled bag on your kitchen table. You sniffed.

“You trynna upset me John? This was supposed to be a quaint meal.” You laugh his question off, continuing to eat and take a sip of wine. Day drinking on a week day? Not like you had shit else to do. You catch John in the corner of your eye, unmoving. Watching you, his eyebrows down in worry.

You sigh, setting you plate down and sipping your hands with a napkin, “If you could find him someone to love John, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

“But [+]-“

“—John.” You raised you voice.

You lean over, resting you elbows on your knees and pushing your hair to your back. “I’ve fallin in love with Gaz over 100 times in my life. Fallin out of love with him 20 times. Both things you’ll never witness in your one life time. I’m stuck here while everyone leaves, and I mean everyone.”

“I’d just rather he’d never met me and live a proper life for once. Maybe God will free us from this endless cycle.” You look over at John, eyes glossy and clasping your own hands.

You plead, “Could you do this for me John? Please? Just this one time? Watch my back, like you’ve always done.”

Five months.

You’d watched Kyle go on dates for five months.

Price kept his promise to you.

Maybe it’s cynical. Delusional. But you wanted Kyle to find happiness to badly, you made sure John played the best wing man anyone’s ever seen. You’d given the old hag your description of Kyle’s type though he didn’t feed into it too much. He’d known you were what Gaz was looking for.

You and John were watching across the backyard of the party his friends were holding at their house that was too large. The music is loud and people were dancing, laughing and drinking to their hearts content. Times like this took you back. The late 60s, you and Kyle would dance any chance you could, till both your feet hurt but Kyle was the one who had to carry you home. You two would dance in clubs, basement parties, in the streets, while waiting in line at the grocery to that song your mom used to hum to you.

Another life Kyle died too soon. Too young. He drowned.

“I don’t think he’s happy doing all this [+].” John finally says, passing your cigarette back.

Ensuring his happiness didn’t make him happy?

Kyle was with talking to a girl across the way. She was pretty, short, perfectly blown out red hair, pretty green eyes, a slim body— anyone would fall for her. She was rubbing up Kyle’s arms while laughing at something he said.

Did it hurt? Of course it did.

But this was for the better. You could imagine him walking down the aisle, him grinning at her with his pearly whites, you would’ve killed to have that yourself. But you’re letting it go. Let that dream die.

“You don’t think he should be the one to choose who to love [+]? It’s his life you know.”

But the option would always end up being you. No matter what he did, no matter what you did. You were too magnets, drawn to each other no matter the time or place.

You shook your head, inhaling the cigarette between your fingers, “you wouldn’t get it.”

“I’m trying to, really I am. But if the kid loves you-“

“-You don’t think it’s painful for me John?” You snap, hands balling into fists, “Seein him be with someone else? Seeing him live a happy life without me?”

“Then be happy with him, [+]! Even if it’s just for a little while! Have you ever just decided to love him without thinking of the repercussions? Just love him as is. Maybe- then maybe-“

“—You don’t know what it’s like John!” You whisper yelled. You huffed, dragging him further out so no one could hear your conversation. “I’ve seen Kyle die over and over and over. There’s no happy ending for us! There will never be a happy ending for us. Can’t you get that!?”

“He’ll look at me but he won’t even know who I am! But I will. Me, who’s seen every side of him already John, every misstep, every flaw, every beauty— I’ve seen it. John I’m tired! I’m sick of having my heart broken.” You angrily wipe your tears.

It was like you were trapped in a revolving door.

“It’s always just me. Always. Someone has to move on.”

It was almost like insict when Kyle’s eyes fell on you. An, “where’ve you’ve been this whole time”. The woman in front of him was rambling but he couldn’t register it. Now when he found you smoking with John.

“Look out for my friend Shannon tonight. I think you’ll like her more than who Soap’s got you foolin around with.”

The younger man didn’t take his Captain serious at first. There was no way Price would try to set him up with an older woman, would he?

But there you were, young and beautiful. Your facial expressions dancing from irritated to amused, chuckling at whatever John had said. He indulged in the current conversation for a second and then lost sight of the two of you.

He pouted. “I’m sorry, i think my friend is callin me.”

“Hurry back!”

Gaz wouldn’t see her for the rest of the night.

Kyle made his way through the crowd, eyes trying to catch a glimpse of you one more time. Maybe you were already gone, just a one time face Gaz would see in his dreams. But his gut told him to keep looking for you and Price.

And there you were, on the dock, just the two of you. A silence between the two of you but a pout on your lips. Maybe Gaz could cheer you up.

Kyle glanced between you and Price as he walked over, shaking off his sudden nervousness when his eyes met the state of you. Face tear stained, mascara running, plump lips painted dark red. Long braids in a low pony tail with and edges laid, cigarette dancing between your fingers with a leather jacket hanging off your shoulders, and short black skirt. Gaz was enamored by you even though you knew you looked a mess. Goosebumps rolling up his arms as he extended his hand to greet you, “You must be Shannon, Price has been talking about you. ‘M Gaz.”

Oh, you know.

You sniff, head throbbing and heart breaking for the umpteenth time. He didn’t remember you, again.

Roll credits.

Another cycle on the carousel that was being in love with Kyle.

“It’s [+], actually.”

And he tilts his chiseled face, a pout forming, “You alright there [+]?”

And you’d get on this merry-go-round again and again, only for him, always for him. You extend your hand, grasping his large yet gentle hand in yours with a small smile. Just like you first met. Here we go again.

“I’m perfect now.”

a/n: to the three people who end up reading this. I love you. Lmk what you think. This is my first time writing for Gaz, hopefully I did okay.

[bucksangel]

Okay but imagine bunny has just been feeling so ill :((( and she’s so so sorry Bucky has to take care of her like this :( but she still tries to make him meals and keep up with her chores and be good for him :( even though he’s adamant that she not lift a finger until she’s better

Maybe he comes home one day and she’s crying and she’s apologizing because she knows he’s so stressed already with work and she’s just so so sorry for adding to that :(

And he’s just like “what are you talking about? why are you sorry”

And then she just hands him a positive pregnancy test and keeps apologizing for giving him one more thing to worry about

But he’s just immediately thrilled and is already thinking about how to decorate the nursery and he can’t wait to fuck the tears away while calling her his little mama

Anyway… I’ll see myself out… splendid writing as always my dear!!! <3

I’m literally laying on my stomach with my legs in the air and i’m kicking them and giggling, you’re so kind. And i looooove this idea so here’s a lil drabble :) (also you are always welcome to come back😭😭)

Title: An Odd Flu

pairing: sofdark!ceo!bucky x naive!assistant!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: 18+ so minors dni, mentions of vomiting and being sick, so much fluff, minor angst, hints of abortion though it’s not said outright (only 2-3 sentences), soft love-making, sir kink, petnames (bunny, mama (but not in a mommy kink way)), fingering, dom!bucky, sub!reader, aftercare

main masterlist | run little bunny masterlist

-

Originally, you thought it was an odd case of the flu. You weren’t running a fever and you weren’t feeling overheated or freezing cold, but you were so tired all the time that you’d have to take a midday nap in order to stay awake long enough to have dinner with James. Then it was the vomiting, you’d wake up around seven in the morning and rush to the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach.

What made things better was that James had been there for you, waiting on you hand and foot whenever he was home. He’d draw you baths and massage your back to relieve your sore muscles. He’d make you soup and tea, going so far as to feed you by hand. He would even cancel meetings if you were feeling especially awful.

But that’s where the problem lies. Leading up to your flu James had been stressed. There was meeting after meeting, paperwork the height of the Empire State Building, and calls coming in after the previous one ended. You already felt physically bad, but the fact that he’s become stretched even thinner has you feeling bad emotionally.

This morning in particular has been the worst of the last three weeks. You gagged when you went downstairs and smelt the eggs James was cooking and had to rush to the bathroom. Your headache felt more like a migraine and all you really want to do is curl up next to James in bed and have him rub your back.

But that’s not possible today. James had a meeting that he had been trying to organize for the past month and it was with people outside of the U.S., so there was no way he could miss it. He still offered to stay home anyway and let his right-hand man, Steve, take over, but you nearly cried when he suggested it. You didn’t want to mess anything up just because you were sick. So, at your insistence, he left with a kiss on your forehead and made you promise to call him if anything got worse.

The only stipulation was that you had to see a doctor while he was gone. His personal doctor, because of course he’s rich enough to have a personal doctor, agreed to come over and check you out.

It was when she got there that things started to feel… off. She noted your symptoms with a glint in her eye that told you she immediately knew what was going on. When she put away her tools, she reached into a different pocket in her bag, giving it to you with a small, knowing smile.

It was a pregnancy test. And suddenly you’re questioning everything. The morning sickness, the aversion to foods you once craved, the crying spells.

Then, you remember your period was supposed to start two days ago. When it didn’t come you just assumed it was because you were ill. Now, though, things are making sense.

That doesn’t stop the insecurities from creeping in. James has been so busy with work lately and this is just one more stressor to add to that. And on top of that, you haven’t been able to do as much cleaning or cooking as you normally do, as much as you want to do. James has been insistent that you not overexert yourself by doing your daily tasks, but you feel so bad that he has to come home from a long day of work to the house being a mess.

When you go to the bathroom, your hands are shaking as you hold the test in the proper position. You’ve always wanted kids, and you can’t imagine having babies with anyone else except James. He always takes care of you, is always lovely and patient even when he’s exhausted and snapping at everyone else, he’s the perfect man and would make a perfect father.

Your hands continue to shake as you wash them, and your whole body vibrates with nerves as you walk back out into the living room to see Doctor Romanoff packing the rest of her things. Her eyes are sympathetic when she senses your anxiety, and she carefully takes the test from you.

The five-minute wait is agonizing, you’re unable to sit still so you’ve been pacing back and forth around the living room awaiting the results. And when the timer goes off, your whole body goes rigid. Your back is to Doctor Romanoff when you hear her hum thoughtfully.

You know what that sound means.

It takes all your effort to turn around, but when you do you find her arm outstretched, offering you the test.

“I’m not sure if it’s the answer you want, but I’m here for whatever you need.”

Hesitantly, you reach out to take the test from her. And, with a big breath, you look down to see the little pink plus sign staring back at you, and tears immediately fill your eyes. You know that James wants kids, he’s very bad at dropping hints when you go to the store and pass by the baby aisle. But, he’s overworked right now, constantly answering calls and responding to emails, and you’re doubting if now is the right time to have a baby.

“Um, th-thank you,” You say weakly, looking up at her with a wavering smile. She nods, and you lead her to the front door and wave her goodbye.

The tears start falling when the door closes behind her, and you quickly rush to your room. You’re staring at the test through your clouded vision, worrying yourself over how to tell him. You know you need to, you want to. So, once you’ve calmed down you pull out your laptop and search for different ideas.

“Bunny, I’m home!” James sounds tired, exhausted really, though you hope the smell of chicken and vegetables will help him wake up a little.

“I’m in the kitchen!” Your hands are shaking so badly when you take the pan out of the oven, and you have to hurry to place it on the counter before you drop it. Suddenly, James’ arms wrap around your waist, pressing his chest to your back and tucking his face into your neck to breathe in your perfume.

“What did I say about overexerting yourself?” His voice is soft, even though he’s clearly tired you know he’s about to march you upstairs and tuck you into bed. “You need your rest.”

“Well, I feel bad for not cleaning as much as I used to, and you’ve been so tired lately.” You pause, taking a large breath and turning in his arms so you can loop your arms around his neck. Your eyes start to water when you see his eyebrows furrow with concern. “Besides, it’s not going to go away any time soon. Google says that morning sickness can last up to 20 weeks and your doctor says I’m only five weeks along.”

James opens his mouth to say something, then promptly closes it when he registers your words. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his hold on you slightly loosening as he flounders for a minute. You can see in his eyes that he’s trying to piece together all of your symptoms from the last few weeks, and he’s a smart man, so it’s not a surprise that he figures it out pretty quickly.

“Are… Are you…?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Time seems to stand still, James seems to have frozen in place trying to sink in your words. And the longer the silence goes on the more worried you become, and a few tears slide down your cheeks.

“I-I know this isn’t the ideal time, and you’re extremely busy with work, but it just happened. I’m so sorry, I know this is just going to make you even more stressed, and I-I don’t know what you want to do, but –” You’re cut off by James pressing his lips to yours, his arms tightening around your body and pulling you into his chest.

The kiss is frantic, desperate, excited. And when James pulls back you can’t help but follow his lips with yours, trying to keep the kiss going. But James doesn’t give in, instead, he leans back enough to be able to look into your eyes. And his are glassy, filled with unshed tears as he brings up one hand to brush away yours with his thumb.

“Fuck, bunny. Don’t be sorry, never be sorry for this. Bunny, you’re – you’re giving me everything I’ve wanted since I first saw you.”

Loosening his arms around your waist, he drops to his knees, placing one hand on your hip and covering your stomach with the other. He stares at your belly with amazement, then pushes up your shirt so he can kiss your belly. Your hands immediately find their way into his hair, rubbing his scalp and running your fingers through it. After a couple of minutes, he finally moves back to look up at you.

“You’re really pregnant?” He smiles wide when you nod, more tears involuntarily sliding down your cheeks.

“I’m really pregnant.” Your voice wavers, but you’re finally at ease, no longer worried about how James would react.

“Fuck, bunny,” He whispers, slowly rising to his feet and grabbing your hips. He leans down, brushing his lips over yours and smiling a little when you whine. “You’re going to be such a pretty mama.”

James is unable to stop himself from lifting you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. You bury your face in his neck, kissing and nibbling on his skin until he gets to your room and lays you gently on the bed.

He doesn’t immediately climb onto the bed, he just stands at the end of the bed and stares at you with a mixture of love and lust. A few moments of silence goes by before you finally whine, wiggling your hips to hopefully entice him.

It works. James shrugs off his jacket and unbuttons his shirt, smirking at you the whole time because your eyes are roaming over his bare chest, and you’re practically drooling when he gets to his pants.

“See something you like?” He chuckles when you glare at him.

“You know I do, so please hurry up. I want you inside me.” While you were teasing, you know you’ve made a mistake when his smile drops and one of his eyebrows raises.

“Where are those manners, bunny? Just because I knocked you up doesn’t mean I’m not still your Sir.”

“I’m sorry, sir! I-I didn’t mean to - I just -“ You stumble over your words, not worried about him punishing you physically, but you know he’s not above edging you for hours on end, and you’re sure you’ll actually cry if that happens.

“I know, bunny,” James coos, finally stepping out of his pants and boxers and kicking them to the side. Before you can say anything he grabs you by your ankles, then tugs you down the bed until your legs are dangling off the edge. “It’s okay, you’re still my good little bunny.”

You moan at his words, a pleasant fuzziness clouding your head. And then James helps you sit up a little so he can unzip your dress — his favorite floral one — and slide the straps down your arms. When he lays you back down he pulls the dress down and off your body, groaning when he sees your bare body, just as he likes it. One of his rules about living with him is that you’re not to wear panties or a bra, you have to always be ready for him.

You and James have never been more grateful for it.

“Fuck, bunny,” James groans and takes hold of his achingly hard cock, squeezing the base. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Going to make such a beautiful mama.”

“Sir, please.” Your eyes water, this time from frustration. You need him inside you immediately.

“Okay, bunny, okay, don’t worry your pretty little head.” James climbs onto the bed and arranges your bodies so he’s sitting against the headboard and you’re sitting on his lap, your back to his chest and your pussy resting over his throbbing dick.

It takes everything in you not to roll your hips against his, the only reason you don’t is because you want to be good for him. He seems to recognize this and lovingly kisses your cheek, humming softly.

“My good girl, my perfect girl,” James mumbles into your ear, placing his hands on the inside of your thighs and spreading them wide open, hooking your ankles around his calves. He drags one hand up to rest lightly on your stomach, his other stroking your thigh, climbing higher and higher until you’re practically vibrating with need.

“Sir.” You’re already sounding pathetic, but, to be fair, James has that effect on you. With only a few touches he can render you dumb, but you love it.

“What do you need, bunny?” James asks as though he doesn’t already know what you need. What you crave.

“You, sir. Always you.” Tears spring to your eyes, damn your hormones.

James sighs behind you, trailing his lips to your cheek, down to your jaw, and then your neck.

“You have me, pretty mama. You always have me. I’m yours as much as you are mine.” His words make you sniffle, a few tears sliding down your cheeks.

You’re so lucky.

“Come here, bunny.” James urges you off his lap, maneuvering your bodies so you’re laying down and he’s hovering over you. He leans on one elbow and reaches up with his other hand to wipe away a few tears, smiling softly when you nuzzle his palm.

“Are you going to let me love on you, pretty mama?”

“Y-Yes, please. Please!” You’re slipping even further into that soft space where nothing else matters except for James, except for Sir.

James leans down, brushing his lips against yours and chuckling when you whine. The moment he finally kisses you he slides his hand down your neck to your breasts, lighting tugging at one of your nipples before sliding down further until he can spread your legs. He only pulls back when his hand makes it to the inside of one of your thighs, cooing when you whimper.

“It’s okay, bunny. I’m going to give you everything you need.” He’s slow and careful when he inches closer to your soaking pussy, running his thumb along your lips and dipping in to gently rub your clit.

He teases you for a long while, staring into your eyes when he dips two fingers in your hole easily due to how wet you are. He’s slow and methodical as he slips in another finger, kissing your cheeks every so often to catch stray tears. When he finally decides you’ve had enough teasing he starts thrusting his fingers faster, crooking them upwards to hit your special spot.

It doesn’t take long at all for you to cum, both because of James’ expert fingering and because of his husky voice whispering praises in your ear. And it’s an intense orgasm, your body going so far as to squirt liquid all over his hand.

It does take a bit for you to come down from your high, your mind is too clouded and fuzzy from pleasure. But when you do come to your senses you’re in the bathtub, your back to his chest as you soak in the warm water. James’ hands are on your stomach, rubbing over it as though it holds a priceless gem.

And, to be fair, there is. The little baby growing inside you is going to be the most loved child in the world.

“James?” Your voice is soft, not wanting to disturb the peace.

“Yes, bunny?” He kisses your neck, and you lean against him further.

“What, um—“ You wiggle a little, feeling his now only semi-hard cock against your lower back. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” James hums, suckling at your skin. “Tonight is about you, pretty mama.”

You’ll never understand how it’s possible to love someone as much as you love James, let alone be loved by such a perfect man, but you won’t question it.

tagging: @hisredheadedgoddess28

[httpsserene]

Hi!! Congrats on 3K and Happy Valentine's!!!! Can you write Franco Colapinto with estbalished relationship #20??? I love your writing sm. Ty!!!

🛞  tread’s uneven: time for a tire rotation! — send me a driver and a prompt from this list of pre-relationship prompts, or these established relationship prompts, or these hurt/comfort prompts, and i’ll write a blurb or drabble for you xxx (prompt lists are made by me!)

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. accepting the last requests for this celebration on valentine's day !!! don't miss out :) happy 3k🤍 my love :) thank you for requesting xxx

⌕ 3k v-day celly nav | all 3k requests | main nav | table of contents ↻

#𝟐𝟎. speaking to you in a softer tone of voice. fem!bipoc!reader x franco colapinto

You can hear Franco yelling at his friends in his headset in the living room from the bathroom over your headphones.

It sounds like he’s being targeted in a very intense tournament of Mario Kart 8—you know what the rage of being screwed over by a blue shell on the final lap sounds like, even if it’s in heated screams of incoherent Spanish. Unfortunately, you need to interrupt his race for vengeance to ask if he needs anything from the store before you head out—you’re craving something sweet and there’s nothing in the pantry or fridge to satisfy you.

You grab your things, making your way toward him and he’s so focused on fighting his way up to first place that he doesn’t even register you coming up to stand behind him on the couch. Franco automatically starts talking shit when he crosses the line first, his voice loud as he reminds his friends who’s the best driver in their group, and he startles like a cat at the sound of you cheering behind him. 

You giggle at him jumping in surprise, his shocked expression shifting into a wide smile when turns to see you.

Leaning down to peck him on the lips, you ask, “I’m about to run out for snacks—do you want me to get you anything?”

His earlier boisterous energy is forgotten as he pouts his lips for a few kisses, his wrath dwindling with each press of your mouth to his.

Franco sounds noticeably sweeter when he answers you, “No, bebé. Do you want me to go with you? I’m not doing anything important, I can come.”

There’s a rush of sound you can hear coming from his headphones, the voices of his friends overlapping as they harass him for being so soft—you don’t have to be able to make out their words to know it. He winces and clicks his mic to mute it, even though it’s too late for that to erase what they’ve already heard.

Patting him consolingly on the shoulder, you shake your head, “It’s okay, I’ll only be a few minutes. You can stay and make them rage quit when you embarrass them on Rainbow Road.”

His eyes twinkle at the idea, “You know me so well, mi amor. I love you, be safe.”

You kiss him again, it lasts for a few seconds longer this time, “I love you too.” 

Franco would tell you to be safe even if you were just going to take two steps outside before walking right back in—it’s the most adorable thing he does besides speaking to you in the softest tone of voice he can manage.

From outside the door, you can hear his volume rise again as he responds to the heckling of his friends, “¡Aye—you idiots need to remember which one of us is the man with a girlfriend before you try and make fun of me! The only one of us who has plans for Valentine’s Day is me!”

© httpsserene — do not reupload. photos in header from pinterest. divider by @cafekitsune.

[maddie0101]

𖤐 snapped (drabble)

𖤐 summary: you and dean get into an argument and something inside you finally snaps—only dean can’t help but notice how hot you look.

𖤐 warnings: arguing, reader is livid, dean is thinking w his downstairs brain, cussing?

𖤐 word count: 528

𖤐 note: this is my first drabble! Usually I can’t help but write at least 1k-3k ish but here I am! Hope you guys like it!

The moment you stepped into the bunker, Dean was on you. “What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was sharp, raw, laced with barely contained fury.

You tossed your jacket onto the war room table, still riding the adrenaline from the hunt. “I was thinking I didn’t want to sit back and watch you get torn apart.”

Dean let out a harsh laugh. “Oh, so you decided to throw yourself in front of me instead? Great plan, Y/N. Real smart.”

You turned to face him fully, arms crossed. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Dean’s nostrils flared. “Yeah, this time. But what about next time? What happens when you’re not so lucky?”

You scoffed. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you. You pull reckless stunts all the time, but the second I do it, suddenly it’s a problem?”

Dean clenched his jaw. “It’s different.”

“How?”

“Because if something happens to you, I—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. His hands clenched at his sides. “You don’t get it.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Then make me get it, Dean.”

He exhaled sharply, scrubbing a hand over his face before muttering, “I don’t have time to babysit you.”

Something inside you snapped. Before he could react, you grabbed the front of his flannel and slammed him against the nearest wall. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, his hands instinctively flying up to grab your wrists—but he didn’t push you away. If anything, his grip tightened.

“You son of a bitch,” you seethed, voice shaking with anger. “Is that what you think this is? You think I need babysitting? That I’m just some liability you have to keep alive?”

Dean’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing. His breathing turned heavy and his green eyes locked onto yours.

“Let me tell you something, Winchester.” You leaned in, your voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “I have been by your side for years. I have saved your ass more times than I can count. You don’t get to stand here and act like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Dean swallowed hard, his fingers twitching against your wrists. His pupils had blown wide, his lips parting slightly like he was about to say something—but he didn’t. You narrowed your eyes at him, noticing his shift in behavior. “Are you seriously turned on right now?”

Dean let out a breathy chuckle, but it was shaky. “Uh… maybe?”

You stared at him, chest still heaving from anger, but now… now the air between you felt different. He was looking at you like he was one second away from losing control. A slow smirk tugged at your lips “Unbelievable.”

Dean exhaled sharply, his grip sliding from your wrists to your waist. “You done pinning me to the wall, sweetheart? Or do I have to beg?”

Your breath hitched, and before you could overthink it, you pulled him down into a kiss. Dean groaned against your lips, flipping you so you were against the wall now, his hands gripping your hips like he’d been waiting for this forever. When you finally pulled back for air, Dean smirked. “So… we still mad?”

You rolled your eyes, tugging him down for another kiss. “Shut up, Winchester.”

author’s note:

what do we think? should I continue to write more drabbles or longer fics? I will def write both but lmk what you guys like!

tags:

@freeluigihesbae @aylacavebear @bettystonewell @lieutenantchaos

Lmk if you would like to be tagged!

my works

[hoshinasblade]

second best |1| hoshina soshiro

PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART THREE

DISCLAIMER: this fic has a detail that hasn't been mentioned in the anime yet. it isn't a big give-away but if you are sensitive about that kind of thing, please do not proceed. pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 3K trigger warnings: author's note: this fic has two parts - part 2 will be posted a week from today :) likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated but please do not repost or steal my writings. this is quite long, but i gotta make you guys work for it. i have also set up a taglist for the second part and the other fics or drabbles, please sign up if you wanna be tagged! as always, feel free to let me know what you think or give me a prompt by sending me an ask here!

hoshina soshiro can claim with extreme conviction that he rarely regrets the decisions he has made so far in his life.

from the time he has set his sights on taking the aptitude exam necessary to be recruited in the anti-kaiju defense force, to following captain ashiro mina to support her as the vice-captain of the third division, to religiously adhering to his daily routine of working out even during his off days so he can stay in peak condition - everything he's done is driven by soshiro's lone motivation: to rise and come on top.  

unfortunately, as he sees you walking in the hallway of the training building with his brother, soshiro realises that this is one of those rare occurrences where he hopes he gets a do-over.

it was barely 6 in the afternoon so there was still light from outside; the rays of the setting sun penetrating the transparent windowpanes cast an orange glow to the furniture in soshiro's office. it made him remember how he used to always be assigned as the student to clean the classroom back in junior high school: he would sweep first then rearrange the chairs before closing the windows and drawing down the curtains. he would rush up to the rooftop, in time to watch the sun dip below the horizon. he would stay for a few precious minutes, dreaming of a chance to get out of their town. he was fifteen then.

soshiro shook his head a bit. he decided that today - of all days - will not be when he will have a trip down memory lane. yes, despite the number of times he would get reminded of his past today, he refuses to get sidetracked.

the floor is eerily silent, save for the momentary opening and closing of doors; soshiro is aware that almost everyone has left, flocking to the local izakaya not too far from the base to celebrate. he had half the mind to prompt himself to hurry up in order to make it to the get-together on time. the long and gruelling application process took three months before the vetting could begin, but finally, the third division of japan anti-kaiju defense force honoured its new officers that morning. as the nominated head of the selection committee, he oversaw the entire thing, and at the end, he could not help but to feel confident that their force would become stronger from here - this year their roster of applicants boasts high-profile names like that of the very daughter of jakdf's director general and the young master of the prestigious izumo family.

okonogi, sitting in front of him at his office, was sorting the personal forms of the recruits, a big stapler in her right hand. "i can take care of this, vice-captain", she said to him, "they cannot miss you there."

soshiro smupled to his swivel chair, obviously fatigued by the task he and okonogi had been trying to finish for half an hour already. fighting and defeating kaiju is the main part of the job, but handling the paperwork proves to be as challenging. "right, make sure the headquarters get this by the morning along with the report of all their numbers -" the sound of footsteps nearby interrupted soshiro's train of thought.

there were three loud knocks and the door opened, a man with the same eyes as soshiro peeping inside. even okonogi glanced over her shoulder to identify who the intruder is. soshiro stood up.

"just wanted ta drop by before i head back ta himeji", hoshina soichiro's undeniable accent dripped. spotting the huge pile of forms littering the desk, he commented, "seems like ya are a little preoccupied though."

"hoshina fuku taichou, good evening." your voice was firm yet jovial as you greeted him, the kansai inflection rolling off your tongue. you appeared beside soshiro's brother, still wearing the same standard-issue uniform you wore during the event several hours ago when you were sworn in as a new defense force officer. the outfit is snug on you - soshiro had noticed at the ceremony earlier, but up close the top looked almost skintight, the skirt coming up a little above your knees. soshiro can be a high-ranking official within the force, but he is also a man. if only briefly, he stared. "aren't ya going ta the party?"

taken aback that you would drop by his office, it was out of his mouth too fast he couldn't stop it - "how about ya? what are you still doing here with him?" soshiro responded pointedly at you, throwing you the same query but not answering what you asked him. it was too late to take it back; he sounded like he was interrogating you about your presence with the captain of the sixth division. soichiro winced; soshiro pretended not to see. "i- i was just thinking ya went with the officers on the way there", he added, calmer this time.

"oh, i was just catching up with hoshina-kun", you replied without missing a beat. soshiro doesn't know if the accidental force in his question just seconds prior did not intimidate you at all or you simply ignored his tone. "i mean with soichiro-kun. considering ya are hoshina too", you chuckled. soshiro stole a glance at the man at your side while maintaining an empty expression. he found his brother smirking at him; soshiro willed himself not to picture soichiro as an ugly kaiju with a butt for a face.

okonogi who is now attentively eavesdropping on your conversation caught your attention. "pardon for the bother, hoshina-san. we'll be off now."

for an instant, it looked like you were waiting for soshiro to say something in response. to say what, he doesn't know. the eye contact between you and him held up for a moment but broke as quick as it began. tension prickled in the air briefly then ebbed as you turned away from soshiro. "i'll see ya at the party, vice-captain", you gave him a bow before exiting the room. soshiro wanted to stop you; he didn't.

soichiro sighed. "it was nice seeing ya, 'lil bro", he addressed soshiro, his hand patting the latter's shoulder once, twice. "i have paperwork ta worry about too so as much as i'd like to, i won't be able ta attend your division's party. just in case ya want ta know." soshiro didn't look like he had a crumb of interest to know about his brother's occupational responsibilities; he shrugged soichiro's hand off.

soshiro saw you standing outside, leaning on the wall, when he ushered his brother out. "i'll be driving her to the izakaya though", soichiro informed him. "ya should visit our folks when ya have the time. ya should come home sometimes", soichiro continued, a hint of concern evident in his voice. when soshiro did not respond, surprisingly the older hoshina did not look a tiny bit disappointed. instead, soichiro put on a charming smile and waved at okonogi. "okonogi-chan, see ya around!" he tossed a playful wink at her.

soshiro merely watched as you and soichiro walked together, your pace matching his. a few meters away, he saw you listening intently to something soichiro was saying - he is too close - and although he is not within earshot to hear what is being said anymore, he knows it is another one of his brother's bad jokes. it looks like you were trying to suppress it, but a smile was about to dawn on your lips. soshiro felt sick to his stomach all of a sudden.

the party was already in full swing when soshiro arrived - everyone is hungrily feasting on the expensive wagyu beef, drinks flowing endlessly from the bar. everyone is enjoying themselves; even captain ashiro mina can be seen having small talk with the newly sworn-in officers who were eagerly taking notes from her.

you had easily made friends with the other rookies who are now sitting next to you; it was thanks to your group that this event was planned - after enduring long sessions of strenuous physical training every day of every week, you all deserved a night of everyone just gathering to have a good time. soshiro seems to be exempt from the festive atmosphere though.

he picked the seat next to his captain, who greeted him with a curt nod. he proceeded to grab the mug of beer served to him; the first sip registered a sharp bitterness through his mouth but soshiro relished on the flavor as it overtook his senses.

"everything alright?" captain ashiro from his side asked without lifting her gaze from her own drink. "you are being -" she paused, carefully searching to find the right words, “uncharacteristically quiet.”

soshiro picked the glass of beer again, and when he was about to put the lid on his lips, he could sense someone’s intense stare locked on him. years of being the vice-captain gifted him with equal parts instinct and paranoia so he could not help but scan the room, only to find you, sitting across the room, watching him with a curious expression.

a rowdy group of rookies surrounds you; they are high-fiving each other, laughing at their silly pranks, not minding that all of you are squeezed together at a crowded circle. soft music in the background swelled as everyone cheered and clinked glasses.

soshiro's eyes remained fixed on yours, lasting for what he felt like forever. the buzz of chatter dulled to a distant hum, fading into an almost white noise. his heart raced as he felt his breath catch and his mouth go dry. the corner of your lips curved into a smile and maybe it is the alcohol in his system, but he is certain his cheeks are flushed now.

"huh", captain ashiro lowly exclaimed. soshiro quickly snapped a glance at her. "you talked to her yet?" she asked him. ah, she caught his little moment with you.

soshiro was on the verge of playing it cool and putting on an act; he was about to outright lie to his captain by saying "talk to who?" as if he had no idea what she was referring to. he settled with silence. he was grateful his non-response only earned him a sigh from the captain who did not press the topic any further.

 "to you newbies, congratulations!" captain ashiro raised her glass, still half-filled with alcohol. her voice rang out over the place, everyone's conversations immediately falling quiet. "may the third division always be victorious in our battles to come", she recapped her speech.

the party showed no signs of slowing down. hibino kafka, a recruit in his thirties has been the centre of intrigue that has spanned for weeks now. hibino ossan - as what the others nicknamed him - had revealed in a bathroom conversation with other male rookies that he grew up with captain ashiro. ashiro mina likes dried squid; ashiro mina used to raise pets in grade school - everyone consumed any and every tidbit of trivia hibino disclosed about the usually stoic and serious third division commander. soshiro was among those invested in the rumor and you knew why. for a while, you also wondered how he would react once the rest of the troops learned about your own past with their vice-captain. would he deny it? or would he brush off any potential gossip that may arise from the revelation? if everyone discovered your shared history with hoshina soshiro, would it make him want to reconnect with you?

“you lot will start duty monday next week, but tomorrow will just be another workday for vice-captain hoshina and i”, captain ashiro said, having stood up from her seat, preparing to take off. “no, you can stay”, she said to some of the newbies who have started to get up too.

“nah, captain, why don’t we bring them along to help us file all the tedious paperwork?”, soshiro interjected in his familiar upbeat tone. the crew bursted into snickers; captain ashiro gave soshiro a perplexed look, obviously puzzled about the sudden shift in his mood. testing her theory, she looked at your direction.

captain ashiro couldn't make out why, but you were giggling at whatever your seatmate had said, elegant hand covering your mouth, eyes crinkled. she understood soshiro then - she was not foreign to feeling uneasy inside when she sees someone so physically near someone she cares about after all. "let's go, hoshina", she tucked her pity for the vice-captain away.

"do you guys think they are dating?" a particularly tactless rookie sitting at your table had asked immediately after captain ashiro and hoshina were out the sliding doors.

"i bet they're not", you blurted out a little too soon, a little too sure. you did not mind clipping your accent, your kansai-ben thick and heavy. your fellow officers looked at you, expecting an explanation for your outburst. "i mean -" you stuttered, "that would be awkward, i guess."

"you know to think of it, you're from himeji too, right?" a few more recruits have started to listen in on the exchange. these people can smell the truth off me, you thought. you wanted to smack yourself in the face.

"we went ta the same high school together, that's all", you admitted, feeling backed in a corner. tomorrow when you get questioned for this imprudent behavior, you can probably blame it all on the alcohol. "and grade school", you continued, loose-lipped now.

you still liked wearing pink bows in your hair when you met him. an only child of kind parents, you never experienced having to ask for something you like; you were doted on and spoiled so you were reasonably upset when a young hoshina soshiro did not give you the time of his day. your family has just moved to hyogo shortly before that, and you were anxious to make friends; since your early age, you had made it your mission to make soshiro acknowledge you.

"you dun wanna play with me, because ya are stupid", you told soshiro-kun once. "oka-san said all boys are stupid", you had the nerve to elaborate after he pouted at you, his unkempt bangs sticking on his sweaty forehead, his clothes dirty from training all day.

"yer pretty", he responded and you felt the blush crept up on your cheeks. "pretty annoying."

"come on, spill some tea!" someone's palm connected with the table, jolting you out of your trance. "we have another hibino-senpai situation on our hands!" they declared, grabbing you by the arm and shaking you a bit. if it was meant to encourage you to tell more childhood tales between you and the vice-captain, it worked really, really well.

"he's always had that haircut even as a kid", you said, misinterpreting the kind of story your companions wanted you to tell, judging by their disappointed looks. “i- i don’t know what else to tell you guys”, you held up your hand in surrender.

“do you have a crush on him?” you choked on your drink, caught off guard.

vexed at his absent-mindedness, soshiro was walking back to the izakaya place alone when he heard the commotion. he is going straight to bed once he gets back to the base, but he would have to retrieve his uniform jacket first from his seat earlier.

“you totally do, don’t you!” it stopped sounding like a question and more of an accusation you could not deny. “you like hoshina-san!”

“i -i do, yes... but what of it, huh?" he couldn’t see you but he would recognize the soft timbre of your voice anywhere. soshiro felt like a victorian gentleman getting a glimpse of a woman’s ankle for the first time listening in on the uproar of cheers after your confession.

“the three of us attended the same high school, soichiro-kun was a grade ahead”, you said. soshiro froze. you are talking about his brother. “he has always been good at everything, t'was hard not ta like him.”

soshiro closed his eyes, attempting to steady his breathing. he always had his suspicions - for the ceremony earlier his brother even took a day off his busy schedule as the commander of the sixth division to attend as a guest. he should have known.

last year, soshiro’s squad fought a lizard-type kaiju with a fortitude of above 8. like the reptile, a cut made on any of its limbs was useless due to advanced regeneration. a fractured rib, extremely bruised arms, and a dislocated shoulder were what it costed soshiro to win against the monster. his bitterness threatening to consume him, he cannot believe that you confirming his worst fears would hurt more than that fatal experience.

of course, he said to himself. it’s not like he can fault you for liking soichiro - everyone did. as the firstborn son, their father always had favored him. soichiro has been the more skilled swordsman between them; he was the golden child, charismatic and talented with an effortless charm - like moths to a flame he would attract people, and even in his silence he would overshadow soshiro.

soshiro didn’t stand a chance against his own flesh and blood.

he was a teenager when he dreamed of running away from the constant but inevitable competition he had with his brother. scouted for the third division, he relished on the freedom. but how do you escape the reality of the one you love loving the one person you could never measure up to?

[jadeslayter]

︶ ◜ᴗ◝ ࣪ 𓈒・ 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍' 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍 𓇼

꒰ : 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 ˚ ｡ ⋆

★ The jjk men have a marathon session . ★ Pairings ⦂ Sukuna , Geto , Toji x Fem!Reader ⭒ (separate)

꒰ ୭ৎ 𓂃 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓 ׂ ׅ

♡⃕⠀ - short drabble : scratching, choking, somnophilia, (dom & feral jjk men cus yesss), degradation, praise, overstim, piv, creampies, spanking, dub-con, dumbification, edging, domestic Geto, power dynamic, true-form kuna, masochism

୫; - pet names : doll , (pretty) girl, baby, princess, mama, ma ୫; - wc : 3k

─── ⋮𝐑. 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

THE ROOM WAS HOT. Sweltering, even— thick air swallowing your shaking body as you convulsed underneath that bastardly curse; his nails digging angry crescent moons into the plush of your supple thighs– reddened from his previous assault. “Takin’ that c-ock so good,” Sukuna would praise, his warm breath bellowing directly into your face as his hips snapped forwards with ungodly haste, stretching your overstimulated cunt until your velvet walls sheathed the entirety of his size. He wanted you full of shaft– full of him. “I should make it..fuckbaby,” He paused, reeling his head back in pleasure. “Should make things h-arder for..you.. yeah?”

This was not a question, but a statement— Sukuna would ask these things to make you feel as though you had some sense of power over the situation. You hadn’t, but it never hurt to imagine you did. Sukuna preferred things this way, and you’d accede, too. He was certain of it. 

The man’s calloused hands— two of them, the other pair gripped firmly behind your knees, locking your thighs against your chest in a tight mating press— travel along the lines of your body, grazing over your sweat slicked skin. Lower and lower— tantalizingly lower. 

Until they were nestled within the cute folds of your cunt, his big fingers working the bud from hiding as he pinched her between two rough fingers. Not gently, either. He wanted to hurt you; and so he would. He’d squeeze on your little clit with malice, massaging the bud aggressively between an index and a thumb. His other hand spread your lips, sheen coating his shaft in sinful pleasure. 

You’d be cockhungry and desperate by the time he was finished with you— a sloppy puddle of a woman drenched in her own arousal. “‘Kuna—Fuck,’Kuna!” You would scream into the recesses of your lovers neck, inundate scent enveloping you; sukuna laying his full claim to every inch of your being. It was impossible to escape him. 

Your toes curled, his precious cock head jutting against an all too familiar patch of textured velvet. Sukuna was an expert at anatomy— your anatomy, only. He knew your body like the back of his hand, and he’d studied hard to understand it. He’d shoved every inch of himself inside of you to accustom himself with your pleasure points, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. 

“Shut up n’ take that fuckin’ dick,” He would be so mean with you, degrading you— invalidating you crudely as he split you on his cock. He just couldn’t help but lose his sense of stability, you knew that, Doll. 

He was very lenient with you; very loving, in all the ways he knew how to be. Not many. But, the effort was still there. 

His body would press down against yours— his weight heavy above you as his waist slammed down into you; his inches slipping inside of you with ease, slicked with your pitiful fucking orgasms. Over and over (and over). 

He made you cum so much. Until you were physically unable to move beneath him— it just felt so good. But seeing you immobile wasn’t enough; he needed you brain dead. He needed you to rely on him, you could do that, couldn’t you? You would. He’d make sure you fucking did. 

“Kuna, fuck—right there, baby— hohgod, g’na cum!” The words ripped from your throat, your moans bellowing within the echoes of your bedroom. “yesyesyes, Kuna— fuck m’ cummin’” 

“Yeah, baby, give me what I want— gimme ‘notha one, make it g-ood. Don’t you dare disappoint me.” He meant what he said. His words were sharp in your ears; his breath hitting against the shell of your ear. 

And God, would you fucking cum. All over his cock— for the nth time. Your release flowed out of you with haste, coating his shaft in another layer of your euphoria. Your body would convulse, shivering desperately beneath the man once more as you struggled to overcome your high. 

His thighs wouldn’t stop their smacking; his heavy balls slapping against your cunt with hellish velocity— Godspeed. He was so careless. 

“Thas’ it, Pretty girl,” He huffed, his chest heavy with the weight of his own impending orgasm. “Giveitall— give it t’ me. Not stoppin’ til’ you’re fallin’ asleep on my cock.” 

─── ⋮𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

“DONTSTOPDONTSTOPDONTSTOP,” You’d pant, latching your flailing hands around the bare abdomen of your lover– his skin dewy with sweat as he forced another inch of himself into your sopping walls; cunt swallowing his shaft expectantly. 

He was right where you wanted him— ramming against that spot with genuine rapture; his hips rocking into you gingerly. “Don’t stop, baby? Yeah?” He’d mimicked, his hands traversing the frill of your nightgown; thin silk hiked over your thighs, pooling above your bellybutton. 

Cute little lolita top he bought you on the night of your honeymoon— the night you were finally taken by a real man— it had always looked so good on you; the blue of the fabric slightly faded over the years of your marriage. He loved seeing you in his clothes; albeit his personal wardrobe, or the clothing you’ve accumulated with his money. The feeling never faltered. 

Geto would be obsessed with the way your perky nipples peak from below the fabric, sensitive buds hardened underneath the restrictions of your nightgown. 

A strained chuckle would pass Geto’s pre-parted lips, heavy breaths and groans resounding within the man's throat. “Thas’it, Baby,” Suguru would moan, the intensity of his thrusts sending recoils through your body. You’d grip the headboard for stability– fuzzy brain swarmed with indescribable pleasure. 

Geto was an elephant when it came to retaining information; all information. Names, dates, locations, everything. So, naturally, Geto’s interests peaked when you had mentioned being woken up to the rock of his hips between your thighs; how foreign his cock would feel inside of your sleepy lil’ cunt while you dreamt of him, and how familiar it’d feel when you awoke to the sensation of spilling on his length. 

So here he lay, a soft hand wrapped firmly around the width of your neck, the other clasped firm within the bend of your knee, your ankle resting upon his broad shoulders. That cute little nightgown of yours clinging to the curvature of your body with sweat. 

You were so pretty when you were like this— cum drunk, lust clouding your comprehension. You only knew how to ask for more and more. You only spoke Geto’s language, and he had no problem following suit. You were his— through and through. 

“This pussy’s s’ fuckin’ good, Baby,” A husky groan reverberating in his throat— adam’s apple bobbing as he spoke. “‘specially when i work her up in the mornin’.” You felt so good around him. Looked good, too; cute little cunt puffy with overstimulation; your holes clenching so desperately around his thick cock. 

And those eyes, Jesus, those eyes, Baby. He could stare into them for hours; big curious orbs blown with pleasure. Hearts practically morphed your irises; delectation overwhelming. This— in all of its glory— is why he wanted you in missionary; wanted to see that pretty, drool-crusted face as he edged you into oblivion.

He almost felt bad for you— princess pussy so sensitive, yet so eager for a release. So needy, only for his package. “So—hnh— full’f me, yeah? Wanna cum, Princess?” His pelvis pistoned between your shaking thighs as the heat of a prolonged orgasm washed over the both of you, coiling the knot within your stomach with yearning.

Geto would roll his hips into you, slowing his pace as he ground himself deep within your velvet walls, pressing your abdomen into the mattress— his raven locs veiling against your forehead; hair disheveled atop his head. He was so focused. Determined. 

He looked the most attractive this way, his skin ripe with droplets of sweat; blotchy patches dotting his arms— soon-to-be-bruises forming just beneath his flesh. He looked so strained above you, thrusting everything he had into your cunt as he distributed his weight into his forearms, his nose directly against yours. 

He’d exhale against your lips, beridding his lungs of their oxygen before pulling you into a sensual, slow, kiss— his lips entrapping yours as they began to swell with pressure; his teeth boring indentions into the plush. 

Geto would tilt his head slightly to the right , angling his nose before yours as he deepened the kiss; his desperation palpable. His tongue would slick over your lips; a gesture of request— and he’d slip himself within your mouth when you oblige, his tongue exploring your cavern hungrily. 

You’d dance in tango, tongues swirling vehemently as the kiss grew increasingly sloppier with every reposition of your lips against his; saliva glistening along the corners of your lips, some dripping upon your chin.

His cock continues its cruel assault, bucking away at your g-spot with malice; his hips shifting slightly to elicit more lude noises from your throat— to which he would swallow up in that kiss, drinking down your essence as he fucked himself into you. 

He was fucking you so good. The pleasure had your eyes rolling into your skull, your toes pointed with tension. 

So fucking close. Just a few more thrusts—

Geto’s lips unlatch themselves from yours, a bubble of intimacy stringing between you before snapping, the droplets warm against your flesh as they land.  

A deep sigh; and then it’s gone. Everything. The movement of his hips ceases between your bruised thighs— begrudgingly, ‘course. You’d feel so empty; so indifferent, so.. frustrated. He’d taunted you with the idea of an orgasm yet again; eighth time in counting.

“Not yet,” He’d huff as he’d collapse above you, his flesh adhering to yours with sweat— lots n’ lots of it. “Just a little bit longer, You can hold it f’ me, huh?” 

─── ⋮𝐅. 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

SOMETIMES WHEN TOJI fucked you, you were physically incapable of making any noise. 

It just felt that good— your little cock hungry brain unable to process any sounds other than pitiful whimpers, occasional gasps when he’d force the arch of your back deeper into the mattress. 

Especially after he’d ram the entirety of his dick into you; his balls slapping against your thighs, girthy 7 inches bottoming out within you, not the slightest shiver of repentance. This was your punishment, after all. What did he have to be apologetic for? 

Certainly not your actions. You were responsible for atoning those. And you would, he’d make sure of it. Your careless transgressions were what got you in this position to begin with— slutty little holes on display for him while you drooled helplessly upon the cotton of his pillowcase, your saliva soaking the fabric through and through. 

“D’aww, Mama,” He’d chuckled ingenuienly through his teeth, callous fingers adamant with their search between your legs, his broad fingertips circling your clit prudently with the resolve of his amatory impurity. He wanted you so bad; wanted to split you open with his seed, fill your breeding chamber until you were swollen with every last drop. “T’s too much? hmm? c’mon, use that mouth, t’s all ya’ good for, idntit?” 

Toji was so mean. 

So condescending as he forced his vigilantic tournament upon your cunt. She could take it. 

But God, it’d feel so good. He’d feel so good inside of you, stretching your velvet over the length of his cock, burrowing himself into your cute lil’ g-spot. He loved being inside of you, even if it were for the benefit of punishing you with the sadistic means of fucking you until you nearly safeworded. 

He hadn’t wanted to hurt you, Doll. Only a lil’ bit. Out of spite, ‘course. 

You’d manage to force a lamentable little whine once more, nodding your head frantically as your sweat adhered your forehead to the pillowcase. “Please,t’stoomuch, Jiji— god, rightthere!” Muffled moans swallowed up by the material your husband were fucking you into. 

“Yeah, right there?” His tone was teasing, his voice pitching as he mocked your desperate pleas of pleasure; how very piteous you sounded begging him to continue with his assault on your insides. Had you no shame, baby? But t’s okay, Toji preferred you absolutely fucking stupid on his dick. Easier for him to thrust his seed into your cunt, because you were simply unable to object. Not like you would, anyway. 

Your arch deepened, the fat of your ass recoiling against Toji’s brutality— skin slapping whilst your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. So fucking good. Toji knew just what you needed— knew your body better than you had. 

Knew how to push you beyond your limits; have you a crying, screaming mess on his bedsheets. He loved seeing you so voracious; all created by him. 

“You don’t get to say that,” He breathed, his thrusts erratic from behind you— peak of his orgasm approaching rapidly, desirous cockhead famished for its release. “‘T’s too much’, this ‘s—..fuck, Baby— This is your f-ault.”

A coy chuckle, and then he’d shove your face deeper within the recesses of the mattress— his right hand heavy above your head as he crushed your frame into the foam. His fingers entangle your roughly tousled hair— the singe of his grip searing through your scalp. “If you’d learn patience, I wouldn’t have ‘t fuck you this way—“ His large knuckles strategically angle your head, his fist pressing your left cheek into the pillow. “Now you’re stuck, Mama,” 

Toji was so ashamed of you, he had trained you so much better than this. You couldn’t even resist your primal urges long enough— couldn’t respect yourself or your husband long enough to wait for his return. Had to call and call his phone; sending him nude photos of those perfectly unbruised breasts, squeezed between a pair of elbows Toji so desperately wanted tied behind your back. 

Your soft eyes would gaze up at the camera as you angled your tits into the frame, snapping the photo and shooting it off to your preoccupied, very busy, husband. Caption being a string of pouting emojis, your desperation almost sickening. Toji’s eyes glossed the minute he opened the inappropriate image, his cheeks warm with the creeping effects of your careless neglect. 

He had you stripped bare and teary eyed in no less than 10 minutes after walking in the door; no hooking his keys, hanging his coat; slipping off his shoes— straight to the bedroom, straight to burying his cock inside of your disgustingly greedy cunt. “Yeah, this’s what ya’ wanted, wadntit’, fuckin’ whore.” He had panted against your skin after his second soul snatching nut, gleaming as he watched the cum spill from your hole. You were able to speak then, strings of curse words and affection spilling from your raspy throat. 

But now he’s pushing out his fifth, and all you can do is lay breathless, pinned to the mattress as your body jolts from the force behind— your ass bruised in bright red handprints, purple and dark green splotches adorning either side of your waist's curvature. Your cunt tight and unwinding against your lovers intrusion as the heat of your orgasm buzzed overhead.

“Oohbaby, t’s’ close, huh? Can feel that pussy clenchin’, Ma.” He rasped deeply, beads of sweat dribbling down onto your back as he rammed himself into you. “Go ‘head, Baby, cum on this dick— fuck, yeaahh baby, M’ cummin’, too,” 

He shot another thick load within you, your pussy clenching down— spazzing helplessly against shaft as he bucked, the accuracy and rhythm of his thrusts receding. He gripped onto your waist for support, balancing himself before lifting his right leg and sitting the flat of his foot against the bedsheet, angling himself inside of you to better overstimulate that poor lil’ g-spot. 

Your screams would prove futile; the fatigue of your cries evident, though no sound emits, your vocal chords just too strained. The sting hurt so good, overstimulation paralyzing you. You really were stuck at the mercy of this man, cumming repetitively on his cock like it’d be your last. 

His thighs resounded off of yours as he fucked the both of you through your paralytic highs, his dick splitting you deftly. It wasn’t long before the peak of yet another release overcame, the sensation sending a rush of euphoric bliss over you as you gasped, your body language giving way to your liberation; shivers and jolts of electricity firing through you— a tired arch faltering underneath him. 

Exactly the way Toji wanted you. Punishing you was so much easier when you obeyed. When you sat and took your punishment like a big girl— Toji’s big, strong girl. Like you’d take this one, over and over, until he decided he was done with you. 

And he was far from that. You hadn’t begged enough, and that just wouldn’t do. No matter, you’d pay with every drop of cum you pushed out of that swollen, sweat-slicked cunt. 

“Gimmie anotha’ one, c’mon, cream until you’ve learned your fucking lesson— til you learn the privilege of restraint.”

© JadeSlayter 2024 Tumblr

[necessiteez]

HONGJOONG SMUT FIC RECS LIBRARY

✦ Secret Room ✦

disclaimer: I do not own any of these works and they do not represent the real kim hongjoong. all rights belong to the respective writers who made them.

all pairings are hongjoong x reader only.

further info is already stated in the main Library.

this is a special section reserved for works with kinks heavily influencing the story

✶ - favorites

╔═ secret♕room ═╗

In this list, by order:

✠ Daddy ✠ DILF ✠ Sir

✠ Breeding ✠ Corruption

✠ Size Kink/Size Difference

✠ Voyeurism ✠ Mirrors ✠ Car Sex

✠ Somnophilia ✠ Feminization

✠ Noona ✠ Exhibitionism (Public/Semi-Public)

✠ Nipple Play/Chest Worship

✠ Anal ✠ Knifeplay/Blood Kink

「 ✦ Daddy Kink ✦ 」

includes Hard Dom/Mean Dom!Hongjoong, DDLG/dollification/BDSM themes

Scent Play - @whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Recordings - crimsonbubble

Day 22 - whatudowhennooneseesyou

Thunder - barbzberry on ao3 (wc 2k)

Face Sitting - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Untitled drabble feat. Seonghwa - @haiyuta

✶ Kitten and the Stranger - @ren-the-dragon (wc 7k)

✶ Kitten and the Stranger part 2 (Birthday Boy) - ren-the-dragon

Yours Alone - @frenchkisstheabyss (wc 1k)

Day 1 - @taehyungisminee

Rumor - @mingis-lightbulb

Hongjoong oneshot - @sugawhaaa

[1:48] Exhaused feat. Seonghwa - hanatiny (wc 1.3k)

* Dollification

Doll - nateezfics (1.8k)

✶ Thank You - @spinster-sisters (wc 2.8k)

Day 4: Pretty, Special Doll - whatudowhennooneseesyou

* BDSM

Leash feat. ot7 - @barnesbabee

Mistleblow feat. Seonghwa - @choijjongho (wc 6k)

「 ✦ DILF ✦ 」

Kinktober Day 25 - @ateezreactionsandscenarios (wc 3k)

In Vino Veritas - @pirateprincessblog (wc 7k)

Not Just A Dream - @ja3honey (wc 1.12k)

Definitely Not a Dream - ja3honey (wc 2k)

Love Me Like Your Favourite Dream - ja3honey (wc 5k)

「 ✦ Sir Kink ✦ 」

Tease feat. San - @hongism (wc 4.5k)

Demon's Prize - crimsonbubble

7:48 - crimsonbubble

Just For Me - @hongcherry (wc 9.9k)

Take It feat. Seonghwa- crimsonbubble

Suit and Offices - @hwanchaesong

✶ Covetous - @mountainficss (wc 2.5k)

Happy Anniversary - wonwussy

「 ✦ Breeding ✦ 」

Please - @mountainsluna (wc 1k)

Breeding - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Kinktober Day 8 - @multiwreckedmess (wc 900)

The Shoe on the Other Foot - @bro-atz (wc 3k)

Untitled breeding kink drabble 1- @hyetiny

Untitled breeding kink drabble 2 - hyetiny

✶ Fill You Up - @last-words-ofashootingstar (wc 1k)

「 ✦ Corruption Kink ✦ 」

All Mine - @hongthoven (wc 2.6k)

Whole Other Level - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Not Ready Yet - liara586 on ao3 (wc 1.8k)

✶ Hidden - @latte-fairytaekwoon (wc 3.5k)

Day 6: Ride - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Ruin Me - @sxcret-garden (wc 1k)

「 ✦ Size Kink / Size Difference ✦ 」

✶ Baby Girl - mountainsluna (wc 1.5k)

Day 6 - hongism (wc 7.5k)

「 ✦ Voyeurism ✦ 」

✶ Consensual Voyeurism feat. Wooyoung, Seonghwa- @sanjoongie (wc 3.7k)

Three A.M. - Abiaswreck on ao3 (wc 2.9k)

+ Toys - @oceanlix (wc 1.9k)

Desperate - hanafudaearrings (wc 5.6k)

Day 4 - brownsugarbaybee (wc 1.3k)

「 ✦ Mirrors ✦ 」

Mirrors - @tohokuu (wc 700)

POV - @pyeonghongrie (wc 1k)

Mirror - hwanchaesong

「 ✦ Car Sex ✦ 」

Sunrise - @xoexoxhoe

Mist - hongthoven (wc 4.5k)

✶ Beach Parking - nateezfics (wc 1.3k)

Making Partner includes other members- bro-atz (wc 27k)

Don't Drive and Day Dream - ja3honey (wc 1.8k)

Criminal - spinster-sisters (wc 6k)

LA Devotee - spinster-sisters (wc 21k)

✶ Midnight Snack - swalledbymadness (wc 2.3k)

「 ✦ Somnophilia ✦ 」

+ free use (untitled) - @almightyddeonghwa (wc 800)

Day 16 - @starlitmark (wc 800)

2:08am - @crdteezv (wc 500)

Late Night Worship - hwallazia (wc 800)

「 ✦ Feminization ✦ 」

✶ Yummy - @bobateastay (wc 3k)

Bubblegum Bitch male reader- pyeonghongrie (wc 2.4k)

FFF Day 4 - sanjoongie (wc 2k)

FFF Day 24 - sanjoongie (wc 1.3k)

Ateez in Skirts - sanjoongie (wc 1k)

✶ S*x worker joong - hyetiny

「 ✦ Noona ✦ 」

Knockin' on Heaven's Door - Yellow Beacon on a03 (wc 9k)

Watch Your Mouth - Atiny-Piratequeen on ao3 (wc 800)

One More Night multi-chapter- Yellow Beacon on ao3 (wc 78k)

Watch Your Mouth - @atiny-piratequeen (wc 800)

「 ✦ Exhibitionism (Public/Semi-Public) ✦ 」

✶ HJ and a Latte - drwayward on ao3 (wc 3k)

Hot and Cold - hongthoven (wc 3k)

Un-dressing Room - hwanchaesong (wc 1.8k)

Day 9: Strike One - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Daddy January Day 5 - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Dirty Laundry - @barnesbabee

Better When It Feels Wrong - @teezertales (wc 2.7k)

✶ Sleigh Ride - hongism (wc 3k)

Exhibitionism - hongism (wc 2.5k)

Splash! male reader - revluvzen (wc 4k)

Red - nateezfics (wc 2k)

「 ✦ Nipple Play/Chest Worship ✦ 」

Slip - @puddingyun (wc 500)

Chest Worship - @ithinkilikeit-reactions

Chest Worship - hyetiny

「 ✦ Anal ✦ 」

A Hundred Ways to Ruin You part 1 feat. Seonghwa - daisukekuroneko on ao3

A Hundred Ways to Ruin You part 2 feat. Seonghwa - daisukekuroneko on ao3

「 ✦ Knifeplay/Blood Kink ✦ 」

Slice - HannieLuv on ao3 (wc 1.9k)

*.last updated 07/15/24.*

「 ✦ Deepthroating ✦ 」

「 ✦ Phone Sex ✦ 」

🆕✨ Hot To Go! - @kitten4sannie (wc 1.5k)

MORE TO BE ADDED SOON

[saddleups]

𝐏𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃.

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 3k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . drabble , complete. ARTHUR MORGAN X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . mid/low honor arthur . spanking . p_rn without a plot !

★ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 . . .   arthur is gruff and often irritable. despite his tough exterior , it's become a running joke that he'd do anything for you. so one day you decide to reward him.

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . one of my fave things to do is intentionally bump into npc's and hear a low honor arthur morgan get all dramatic about it lmao. pretty self indulgent drabble that's much needed considering, ugh, recent world events, smh. let's just relieve some stress with our fave cowboy :')

"Arthur, the damn horse got out again."

"Arthur! Go fetch meat for the stew, or we’ll be eating air tonight."

"Arthur! For heaven's sake, take a bath!"

"Arthur? Are ya even listenin' to me?"

Arthur. Arthur. Arthur.

The sound of his own name twisted through the air like nails on a chalkboard. The way you said it—a sharp, clipped tone that hovered between scolding and command—set his teeth on edge, feeling less like a partner and more like a child caught in mischief. No matter how much it grated on him, he obeyed, if only to spare himself the prolonged nagging… and to give himself a chance for one of his well-timed snarky comebacks.

"Arthur, did you get what I sent you for?" you asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Nope," he deadpanned, but then, almost as an afterthought, pulled the small inkwell from his satchel and placed it in your palm.

"Thank you kindly," you said, though the hint of exasperation bled through.

He cocked a brow, smirking. "The way you say that, darlin', doesn't sound all that kind."

You rolled your eyes, but a faint, grudging smile betrayed you.

It had become a running joke around camp that, grumpy attitude and all, Arthur would go to the ends of the earth if you asked him to. You’d often hear, “Hell, that boy’d wrap a lasso 'round the moon and bring it right to ya' if he could!"

No matter how reluctant he might act, he’d always come through—whether it was fetching supplies from town or bringing you something from across camp, you knew you could count on him. His grumbling had become a ritual, the begrudging look only making it clearer: when it came to you, he’d always show up.

Maybe it was time to pay it forward.

Arthur sat on a rock by the lake, hat tipped low, listening to the steady, calming rhythm of the water slapping against the shore. It was a warmer day, the first few buttons of his work shirt came undone, exposing the curly hair underneath.

The murmur of camp life floated faintly from behind him, but he couldn't care less about what they were fussing over now. The weight of responsibility hung around his shoulders like a yoke, dragging him down. Hungry mouths, Dutch's endless plans, your constant badgering—it was all just so damn relentless.

He tried to focus on his journal, but the words blurred on the page, his eyes drifting to the lake’s glassy surface instead. Out here, alone with the quiet, he could almost forget.

“Arthur!”

He groaned, snapping his head around. “Goddamn it! Woman, can’t you see I’m tryin' to relax?”

Ignoring his grouchy tone, you sauntered over, a teasing smile on your lips. “Well, maybe if you didn't run off, I wouldn’t have to come find you,” you replied, slipping in behind him. With a practiced touch, you set your hands on his shoulders, kneading the knots beneath the dusty fabric.

“Poor Arthur Morgan. Carryin' the weight of the world on these big strong shoulders, huh?”

He tensed, half-tempted to shrug you off, but he couldn’t deny that your touch felt good. Still, he wasn't about to let you off easy.

“Seems like 'yer mighty concerned 'bout my shoulders all of a sudden,” he muttered, trying to sound gruff even as his eyes drifted closed.

“Apologizin’ for all that naggin’, are ya?”

You leaned in close to his ear, a playful tone slipping into your voice. “Well, I know you like the attention, Arthur. If I left you alone too long, who knows what trouble you’d get into.”

He snorted. “Trouble? Woman, I can barely take a piss without you findin' some reason to come yellin' after me.” A faint smile tugged at his lips, even as he tried to keep his expression set in a scowl.

“Somebody’s gotta keep you in line,” you said, your fingers pressing firmly against his tense muscles. “Otherwise, you'd be a mess—and you know it.”

After a beat of silence, Arthur let out a reluctant sigh. “Maybe,” he grumbled, “but don’t go thinkin’ I need ya hoverin' over me all the damn time.”

You press into his back harder, attempting to release the tension stored there. "Goodness, Arthur your back is in knots."

"Wouldn't be so damn knotted if I didn't have to hear my name in that god-awful tone of yours every damn day."

"Oh?" you teased, leaning forward to rest your chin lightly on his shoulder. “Maybe you just need to hear it said differently.”

You shifted your hands down his shoulders and towards his chest. Your own pressing firmly against his back, meanwhile your fingers pressing in a slow, suggestive rhythm, just enough to make him squirm.

“Would that help?”

Arthur’s jaw clenched, fighting the twitch of a smile. “You really think that little trick’s gonna work on me?” he said, turning his head just enough to catch your mischievous grin.

Abandoning your previous position, you decide to swing your leg over Arthur and settle your frame onto his lap. "Maybe," you replied, voice dipping lower, your fingers looping around his suspenders, pulling them off his shoulders in one go.

“Or maybe you just don’t want to admit you like the sound of me sayin’ your name at all.”

A reluctant chuckle escaped him, though he tried to bury it. “Keep talkin’ like that and maybe I’ll get used to it.”

You continue to press his shoulders, his arms. Arthur's initial scowl began to soften, lashes fluttering as he struggles to keep his eyes open. You could feel him loosening up, his breathing evening out, and the smallest smile breaking through his mask of irritation.

You leaned forward, letting your fingers trail down his arms. “Guess that wasn’t so bad, huh?” you murmured, voice low and teasing, your lips just grazing the edge of his ear.

His breath hitched imperceptibly. Arthur shot you a sidelong glance, a warning smirk tugging at his mouth. “Watch it. I ain’t exactly a gentleman right now."

“Good thing I don’t need you to be,” you replied, letting your fingers slide down to lace through his, guiding his large hand to rest at your thigh.

Without waiting for another word, you closed the space between you, capturing his lips with a boldness that matched his own rough edges. Arthur’s hands settled firmly around your waist, and his grip tightened, pulling you closer with a possessive intensity.

His mouth was warm and demanding, a low hum rumbling in his chest as he kissed you like he’d been waiting for this moment a lot longer than he’d let on.

Your fingers tangled in his collar, pulling him closer to you, and he responded by pressing in even harder, his hand slipping to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him.

Arthur's lips parted against yours, deepening the kiss as if he were staking his claim. The lake, the distant murmur of camp, everything around you faded until there was nothing but the two of you, wrapped in each other, the simmering heat between you spilling over.

You felt his length twitch against your core, the thought of it makes you moan, "Arthur," it's softer this time. It was that girlishly lewd moan men like Arthur dreamt about.

"I like when you say it like that."

"Do you?"

He kisses you harder, hips buck into your core. You clench his collar.

"Arthur," you whispered in a sultry purr. "You like it when I say your name like this, don't you?"

He growled lowly, a deep sound in his throat that vibrated through your bones. "Damn woman, you know I do. Now stop teasin' and give me more."

You bit your lip, a wicked smile playing on your mouth. Leaning in, you captured his earlobe between your teeth, nibbling gently before whispering, “What if I don’t want to? What if I like having you needing more?”

Arthur’s eyes darkened, his grip on your waist tightening almost painfully. “Yer askin’ for trouble, darlin’.”

You arched an eyebrow, hiking up your skirt to bundle at your waist. You met his gaze with a challenging glint. “Is that so? And what are you going to do about it, Arthur Morgan?”

Before you could react, his hand slid up to cup your cheek, forcing you to look into his intense eyes. “This,” he rasped, and with a swift motion, his other hand landed on your ass, giving you a sharp spank that made you gasp into his mouth.

The sting spread quickly, mingling with the heat pooling between your thighs. You whimpered, biting back a moan, but Arthur wasn’t done. He repeated the action, firmer this time, his fingers digging into your flesh as he punished you for your teasing.

“Arthur…” you breathed, your voice shaky with arousal. “More… please…”

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “I already do so much for you, might as well have you start beggin'" his voice is rough, commanding.

You swallowed hard, your pride warring with your desire. But the way his hand lingered on your ass, the way his thumb brushed over the spot he’d just spanked, sent jolts of pleasure through you.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Please, Arthur… again…”

His intense gaze meets yours, full of desire. He gently lifts your chin and lightly traces the outline of your lower lip with the rough pad of his thumb, savoring the moment. Arthur murmurs, "my beautiful girl, you say my name so sweetly, I just might eat you right up." You’re caught in his trap, surrendering your prideful nature to please him.

With a swift, deliberate movement, he brought his hand down again, a firm smack that echoed in the quiet of the lake. The burn ignited a fire deep within you, and your body instinctively pressed against him, craving more of that delicious friction.

“Is this what you wanted?” he breathed against your lips, his voice low and teasing as he reveled in your reaction. “You ain’t too proud now, are ya?”

The question swirled around you like smoke; the answer lay heavy on your tongue. “No,” you murmured, barely able to muster the words as he continued to trail his fingers along the edges of your bloomers before pushing them up your thighs, the fabric snatching between your wet folds.

Arthur’s gaze flickered with something instinctual, a hunger that painted his features with shadows. “Good,” he murmured. “Now let’s see how far I can push ya.”

With that, he thrust his hips upward, pressing against the solid heat of you. A cry escaped your lips—a mix of pleasure and surprised urgency—as you felt him coaxing every quiver from your body. His hands were everywhere—exploring, claiming—and you responded eagerly to each touch.

“Goddamn,” Arthur muttered, his voice thick with desire as he settled into a rhythm that was both punishing and pleasurable. Each caress ignited flames that licked at your skin, demanding attention and coaxing moans deep from your throat. “Yer a temptress, you know that?”

“Only because you make it so easy,” you replied breathlessly, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, seeking more grip as he pushed you closer to the edge of sanity.

With every thrust, every firm touch, Arthur was unraveling something inside you, a tangled knot of need and yearning that had long gone neglected. Each whisper of his name became a prayer, a plea for him to sustain this blissful torment. The sound of his name on your lips sparked a fire inside of him, something he hadn't felt in a long time. He was no longer the troubled man caught up in mischievous acts, but a devoted lover who had complete control over you.

“Can ya’ handle it?” he teased, slipping one hand back to squeeze your thigh possessively while the other found its way under your chin, tilting your gaze upwards. “I ain’t holdin’ back anymore.”

Without waiting for an answer—knowing all too well that any attempt at defiance would only further stoke his desire—he surged forward with reckless abandon. His lips crushed against yours, raw and insistent as that spark ignited into an inferno between you.

You could barely think as he plundered your mouth and coaxed every ounce of passion from you. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze again, and for a moment, time seemed suspended in the heated silence between heartbeats.

Arthur's hand shot down, fingers digging into the delicate fabric of your bloomers. With a savage tug, he ripped the seams, causing you to gasp and shriek his name in surprise. The sound was abrupt and high-pitched, a sharp contrast to the low, rumbling growl that escaped his throat as he moved quickly to cover your mouth with his palm.

"Shhh," he whispered fiercely, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "The camp's only a few miles off, darlin'. You want them to hear?"

You shook your head frantically, feeling the heat of his hand against your lips, the roughness of his skin contrasting sharply with the softness of your own. His gaze never wavered, and you could see the fire burning in those blue depths, a testament to the control he was exerting over both himself and the situation.

Assiting his undress, you reached for the buckle of his pants, your movements swift and determined. He watched, breath hitching in his throat, as you unfastened the leather strap and opened the fabric, freeing his large, hard cock from its confines. It jutted out proudly, thick and throbbing, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.

Your mouth watered at the sight, the desire pooling low in your belly. You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as they wrapped around his shaft, stroking him slowly, savoring the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

Arthur's breath hitched, his hips bucking instinctively against your hand. "Fuck," he muttered, his voice ragged. "You keep doin' that, and this is gonna be over before it even starts."

He shifted his weight, positioning himself between your legs, which you had spread wide in anticipation. He didn't waste any time, guiding the head of his cock to your slick folds. The sensation was electric, hot and wet, and you couldn't help but moan against his hand, biting his calloused palm while your body arched up to meet his.

"That's it, darlin'," he murmured, his thumb brushing across your clit in slow, deliberate strokes. "All that work I do for ya, this is how a bastard like me likes to be reward."

His words were like fuel on the flames of your desire, and you nodded frantically, desperate for more. He removed his hand from your mouth, he holds his cock, sliding the length of him along your drenched slit. The friction was maddening, a tantalizing mix of pleasure and frustration that left you panting, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Arthur," you whimpered, the sound torn from your throat. "Please…"

"Sing my name," he commanded, his voice rough and urgent. "Sing it loud and clear, and watch what it does to me."

You obeyed, letting out a soft, melodic cry as he pressed deeper, teasing the entrance to your core. Each thrust of his hips brought him closer, the head of his cock dipping between your folds, mixing his wetness with yours. The sensation was intoxicating, a dizzying blend of heat and pressure that made your head spin.

"Arthur," you chanted, your voice growing stronger with each repetition.

"Arthur, that feels so good."

"Arthur, please..."

"Arthur, harder."

His thrusts became more forceful, his grip on your thighs tightening as he drove into you with relentless determination. The sound of your voice seemed to fuel his fire, his breathing growing harsh and uneven as he pummeled into you, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Yes, that's it," he growled, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "Keep sayin' it, darlin'. Keep sayin' my name."

You did, your voice rising to a breathless plea as he plunged deeper, his cock hitting all the right spots inside you. The world narrowed down to just the two of you, the sounds of the lake and the distant camp fading away until all that mattered was the feel of his body against yours, the raw, primal connection that bound you together.

"Arthur, please," you cried, your body trembling with the effort of holding back your orgasm. "I can't take it anymore…"

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue plunging deep as his hips snapped forward, burying himself inside you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure that crashed over you, leaving you gasping for breath.

"Almost there," he whispered against your lips, his voice strained with effort. "Gonna come with you, darlin'. Gonna make sure you feel everythin'."

You tightened your grip on his shoulders, your body straining towards the edge of ecstasy. The rhythm of his thrusts was driving you closer and closer, each powerful stroke pushing you further into the abyss of pleasure.

"Arthur, I'm so close," you gasped, your voice breaking with the force of your desire. "Don't stop… please…"

"Never," he promised, his thrusts becoming almost frantic now, his body straining with the effort of holding back his own release. "Gonna make it perfect for you, darlin'. Gonna make sure you remember this."

With one final thrust, he pushed you over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. You shout his name, the sound echoing across the lake as waves of pleasure rippled through you, leaving you trembling and weak. So much for being quiet.

Arthur followed you over the edge, his own climax crashing over him with a roar. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body shuddering with the force of his release as he emptied himself into you, filling you with his warmth.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths, the steady thump of your hearts beating in unison. Then, slowly, Arthur pulled back, his eyes meeting yours with a look of raw, unadulterated satisfaction.

"Good girl."

Your eyes are shut, but you can feel his gaze, searing and unrelenting, tracing over you. His cock is still warm inside you, the sensation feels…homely. Slowly, your lashes flutter open, confirming what you already knew—his soft blue eyes are fixed on you, brimming with pride and satisfaction. You give him a playful slap on the chest, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Oh, shut up.”

[eroscomet]

Make it Right

Chapter two- Hauting for Home

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

Paring: Astrid Deetz x Fem!Ghost!Reader

Warnings: Mentions death, a bit angsty, bad writing. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 3k+

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm so sorry that this chapter took a while to make. I was busy on the weekend; however, I found time to finally finish the chapter for you all! I really do hope you guys enjoy this one! I will try to get a specific schedule for updates on certain stories. If you guys are wondering about updates for 'Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours,' I will try to update that as soon as possible. I will also be doing a couple drabbles on different characters and or drabbles of characters I've already written for. I would also like to thank you guys so much for all the support you all have been showing me! I am so thankful and grateful for each and every one of you! Thank you so much for every like, reblog, and comment, it means a lot to me!

Not proof read

╰┈➤Series Masterlist

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

┏━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┓

"You talked to my dad?!" Astrid had exclaimed with an amused smile on her face. There it was, that twinkle in her eye that you had missed so much. She hadn't been very happy recently, with you not around and everything else in her life that had been happening.

"Yeah, when I had first died. I got sent to the immigration office, and what do you know? There he was behind the glass. He's just as kind as you always told me he'd be. Surprisingly, he immediately recognized me. He told me that he had been watching after you and practically watched our love 'blossom,' as he put it." The two of you continued walking outside.

You couldn't help but think about how people must be seeing this. Astrid looked as if she were talking to herself from an outside perspective. Aware of her past, you knew people had a tendency to bully her, so when nearing Miss Shannon's School for Girls, you tried to get her to talk as much so that others wouldn't look at her funny. So, you took up most of the time on the way there, talking as much as she could so that she didn't have time to talk. Which was odd because she was usually the one who'd talk while you'd listen.

"He said he liked me, which is a relief. Sometimes, I feel like your mom is more confused but is trying to be supportive. I mean, remember when I had first come over, and she started talking about how she too 'experimented' as she said. Anyway, that isn't the point. I met your dad, and we actually frequently visited you together. It's funny, sometimes we'd bond over how much we missed you."

Astrid's eyes had furrowed as she had begun to notice that every time she began or wanted to speak, you only spoke faster, almost sputtering out information. A frown tugged at your lips as she had caught on.

"I just don't want people to look at you even more weirder than they already do. If you're talking to yourself, they'll find that an easy target. Try...putting on some headphones and pretending you're on the phone? Or you can just put your phone up to your ear?"

She smiled as she took her phone out of her pocket and brought it up to her ear.

"Thanks, you're right. So, what else did he say about me? Did you see my grandfather? What's the afterlife like?" Astrid felt like she had a million different questions to ask.

"Your dad says he's proud of you and that he sees himself in you all the time. As for your grandpa, no. I mean, I feel as if it's harder to find him since he did lose his head to a shark. The afterlife is a bit weird. I can't tell you much about it since I haven't exactly crossed over. I basically only know what headquarters and a few shops look like. I mean, there's a 'Soul Train' which essentially takes you to the 'Great Beyond,' but I never went because I don't want to risk not being able to watch over you."

You grabbed Astid's shoulders, moving beside her to walk toward the street end of the sidewalk. Even though you were dead, the sidewalk rule never really left you, even while Astrid couldn't even see you.

"Yeah, I figured. I almost can't believe that a shark bite ended his life, I knew my family wasn't normal, but we can't even have a somewhat normal death? The Great Beyond, huh? Soul Train is a clever name though. Does no one know what's on the side?"

"I mean, I've never seen someone leave then come back from the train in the full year, almost two years that I've been here. I'm not taking the risk and crossing anyway, I can't lose you again after we just got back to each other."

"You're right..." Her eyebrows furrowed, her attention on the sidewalk as they continued to walk. She thought to herself for a moment before speaking again.

"So, you don't have any ghost tricks you learned?"

"Of course, you'd ask that, would you be disappointed in me if I said I didn't?"

"I mean, you've been gone for a year almost two, I'd expect you to know at least something to make me feel better for all the time you've been gone."

"Okay, uhhh... I can walk through walls and, I guess, float a bit."

"That sounds like every other ghost."

"Just because i'm a ghost doesn't mean I have super powers, Astrid."

"Just saying."

"I mean, I do have this nasty scar from the accident." You lowered your shirt neckline, showing the scar on the lower part of your neck. Astrid winced at the scar before looking away.

"Right. Weird how all it took was one neck twist for you to die.

"Well, it's more like my neck twisted as if I was a cartoon character that got punched, and my head began spinning-"

"Ew, shut up. Don't talk about it like it's something light."

"I'm sorry, you're right."

It was silent for a bit as you guys walked into the school, Astrid opened one of the doors while you phased right through the other door. Astird put her phone back into her pocket as she walked upstairs and past the other students. You followed after her, your eyebrows furrowing at the other students nearby her dorm. Some of them whispering to each other while giggling.

That's when Astrid opened her dorm room's door, a bedsheet attached to the ceiling by a rope coming straight towards her. The bedsheet makes out a ghost with a 'Boo' sign in its chest area. Astrid stumbled back before turning around and looking at the other girls, who began to burst out into laughter behind her.

"When you're all driving carpool and banging your pilates instructor to fill the empty voids in your life, we'll see who gets the last laugh."

The girls smiles and laughs quickly died as she finished speaking. Astrid turned around as she went into her room, shutting the door behind her. You smiled proudly, a laugh escaping you as you saw the looks on the girls faces as they disburst from Astrid's door.

"Witty as always." You said as you phased through her dorm room's door. The make-shift ghost on the ceiling startling you a bit as you had almost 'ran' into it. Sometimes you forget you're a ghost even if it's been a year.

"They have not toned down with the comments? You had always been careful about this topic, not wanting to bring it up too much with Astrid.

"No." It was a simple and straightforward answer that made you not want to question further. A part of you felt angry that you were helpless to all of it now that you're dead. You had gotten so used to defending her against everyone but now your words would only fall on deaf ears.

You sighed as you plopped yourself onto her dorm room's bed, thinkiing for a moment on how to steer away the conversation of bullying that she obviously did not want to talk about.

"Did you hear that my sister's pregnant? I know that I shouldn't bother looking over them since they're perfectly fine.."

"I'm not surprised."

"She's naming the baby after me."

"God, that's ridiculous! Naming their kid after a relative who isn't even dead yet-" Astrid's voice faltered for a moment. The fact that you were dead and have been for almost two years was still a punch in the gut after all this time.

"That's what I said, baby." You offered her a small smile as you played into the bit that you were still alive for Astrid. She still wanted to make her at least feel a bit better.

'Baby.'

Your words - and your smile, even if it was for her benefit - just made Astrid's heart twist further in her chest.

"You're killing me here."

"Why?" Your head tilted to the side as you looked at her.

"Because you're supposed to be dead." Her voice came out in a strangled whisper as she looked down at the papers scattered on her desk.

You bit your lip, you didn't want to show that what Astrid had said hurt you. Even if you were dead, you still had emotions and feelings. You paused for a moment before deciding to drop the topic.

"So, they're having a baby shower. You should go."

"Oh god, a baby shower? Is it too late to make you disappear again?" Her face had immediately scrunched up with distaste at the idea of being forced to go to a baby shower - especially your self-centered sister's baby shower where she'd name her child after you for her own gain.

"Come on, you couldn't see me for a whole year, and now that you're finally able to, you already want to get rid of me? That's cold, babe, even for you. Even for me who's dead cold. Get it? Huh? Dead cold. Because i'm dead? And i'm cold now because I have no blood. No? Okay."

"Oof, that was horrible." She said as she shook her head and grumbled in response.

"Come on, admit you missed me. I heard all your late-night talks that you thought weren't reaching my ears."

"I did miss you - I've missed you for a whole year." She confessed, sounding a bit surprised by her own confession. The room fell silent, the weight of everything that had happened falling onto the both of them. Neither of them wanted to address it, though, they didn't want to have to deal with it now.

"Did you ever-" She paused for a moment as she thought of the right words to say, "When I'd lay in your bed and mope, were you just...watching me?"

"No, I hated that. I'd still do what I would've done if I were alive. I tried holding you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear that never got to you."

"Sweet nothings, huh?" She teased, which earned an eye roll from you. Again, the room had fell silent as the two were lost in thought before Astrid spoke again, breaking the silence.

"How bad did it hurt?"

"Uh.. Well... I just remember being on the ground one second, then in the air the next. I landed, and well- You know what. It had hurt for that second that I was alive, but it had been an instant death if anything."

Having to talk about your death wasn't an easy topic. It was a reminder of how quick you had lost it all. The blood in your system, the beat of your heart, Astrid. The sight of you nervously fidgeting with your own fingers made Astrid's heart ache.

"I hate that." She muttered, her voice coming in strained, almost as if she was forcing herself to get the words out.

"I'm sorry." Your words were mumbled as she continued to fidget with your fingers, now more anxiously than before. The apology caused Astrid to shut her eyes, trying to hold herself together. She felt that now was not the time to start breaking down.

"Don't. Don't apologize." She had almost snapped at you as she opened her eyes to shoot a glare at you.

"Okay." You were never one to go against her word, you didn't want to start a fight. Especially not now. All you could do was bring up one of your hands, beginning to gently pull on the hairs on the back of your neck as you avoided Astrid's eyes.

"Is that a nervous habit of yours now? Pulling your hair." She asked as she reached her hand out idly to brush your hair out of your eyes.

"I had gotten it when I first reached the afterlife. When you watch the people you love hurting, and all you can do is ghost around them..." Your voice had faltered, forcing yourself to clear your throat and then begin to speak again.

"You feel so helpless. Watching everyone who used to be around you and love you so miserable about your death. It makes you feel guilty but, most of all, useless. There's no way to hold, touch, talk to, comfort them... It's hard."

The room had fallen silent after your words. Astrid's fingertips gently brushed along the back of your head - tracing the place that you usually pulled at. She let her hand rest there, trying to keep you from pulling at your hair again.

"How cold am I?"

Your words made Astrid pause for a moment. Leaning closer to you as she wrapped an arm around her now ghost girlfriend. The chill of your skin made her shiver involuntarily - but Astrid tried not to show the way her body automatically wanted to shy away from the cold.

"Really damn cold. It's like you're an ice cube almost." Her words a mumble as she got closer to you, laying next to you as she rested her head on top of yours.

"I'm sorry that I'm not warm anymore." Your own words come out as a mumble as well, instinctively, your head rests on her shoulder.

"I know you don't much like when it's really cold. I thought I was keeping myself with this sweater but now that someone's actually able to touch me, I realize it's doing nothing for me."

"Gosh, you don't have to apologize for that. At least you're here." She pulled you closer against her, her arms wrapping around your waist - burtying her face into your shoulder, even if your skin was freezing and caused a slight burn against her own warm skin. She ignored the way that her body had involutarily shivered at the contact - focusing instead on the fact that her girlfriend was here.

"Barely." You mumbled quietly as you gently pulled away from your girlfriend, knowing that you were probably burning Astrid's skin with your own cold, dead skin that was now a pale blue hue.

"Don't be like that. You're talking as if you have no more hope."

"Death has a way of doing that."

Astrid let out a quiet huff at your words. Her eyes flickered back and forth from you and her own hands that were now gripped tightly on her bedding - but in the next moment, she let go. Almost as if with a full burst of speed, she darted to you. Her arms wrapping around your body, hauling you into her bed in a tight, crushing embrace.

"Astrid-" You had said in surprise and protest. You knew that you were cold. Dead. The cold would burn Astrid at one point, and you didn't want that. Not when you used to be alive and warm for her. You used to keep her warm and now you can only burn her with your icy dead skin.

"Don't even think about complaining. I don't care if you're cold." Astrid snapped as she held you impossibly close against her. Her body shivered once again as your cold skin was like a bucket of cold water dumped over her body - but she ignored the cold, focusing on the sensation of her girlfriend in her arms.

A frown had tugged at your lips, knowing that eventually, Astrid would get too cold, but after a year of being a lone ghost who watched your loved ones move on or suffer because of you, you couldn't help but be a little selfish. Your arms wrapped around her as tightly as you could.

You missed your girlfriend so much. Watching over her for a year, her suffering for a full year over your death, had done a number on you. You'd cry if you could, but all you felt was this deep internal sadness. You had no heartbeat, you had no blood to warm your body, you had no tears to shed from your dry eyes. Your chest was the most still it had ever been, you had no air to breathe anymore.

It had begun to feel like too much for the both of them. Being this close to each other after a year of thinking they'd never be able to have contact again, feeling each other's skin despite the feeling of a small burning on her own skin from your own. It was almost enough to make Astrid cry.

The cold was beginning to seep into her skin - making her shiver and leaving her skin prickled. But Astrid wouldn't - couldn't - let go of you. Not when it had been a year since she was able to hold you. You had only frowned as you held her tighter. A small hiss escaped Astrid from the cold contact as she tried to get herself impossibly closer to you.

"Damn it, it's getting too cold." She hissed, speaking between clenched teeth as she tried to bury her face into your shoulder further.

"Warm up with the blankets, I'll just lay beside you. I promise I won't disappear." You pulled away, gently moving Astrid off of yourself as you carefully pulled her bedsheets over her body. When you finished tucking her in, you lay beside her, admiring every detail you could land your eyes on.

She only huffed a bit, feeling oddly petulant about the fact that she had to let go of you However, she did as she was told. A small shiver rattled her body as her eyes locked onto yours. She managed to mumble something incohereently as she reached for you, trying to tug you close again.

"Too cold, baby. Just give it a moment. I'm here, you see me." You tried to reassure her as you gently tugged a strand of hair behind her ear.

'Baby.' The soft nickname only made her want to pull you close again, but she knew that you were right. Her body was cold - skin still pricked and burned from being in contact with her girlfriend. She snuggled further into the bedding, her hand gently reaching out to yours. Linking her own pinky with yours, causing you to smile. Her eyes looked into yours as if asking if it was okay to which you had nodded.

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A/N: I don't know why this felt like such a short chapter to me despite it being the most words I've written so far?? I might have some filler chapters for this and 'Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours' sometimes. Then again, there is still a lot to write for the storyline themselves. Thank you, lovelies, for all the support on my posts! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I'm so sorry if some days I do not have time to update. Also, if there's anyone that wants to be tagged for updates on this story, leave a comment saying so! Bye, loves!