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sukunasweetheart · 1 month

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slice of lifey vibes with trueform sukuna! youre like a servant-turned-girlfriend to him and dont mind me making it the clumsy girl trope sorry... lots of falling over and making a fool of yourself oops- mostly lighthearted, eventual romance, fluffy, very minor/implied smut. mentions of cannibalism, murder.

the warning of ooc sukuna goes without saying <3 hope u enjoy nonetheless <3

dividers by @/saradika, @/firefly-graphics and @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

word count; 8.1k

how can someone be this useless?

its not uncommon that you trip over your own feet. the food you try to make always ends up charred and inedible. and anything that wounds up in your hands seem to either break or get misshapen. seriously, uraume considers you an eyesore.

very much like a stressed mother in law, they try to whip you up into shape to best please lord sukuna, but you can't do a thing right. goodness gracious.

there are only a handful of servants here at the lord's estate, mainly due to how he dislikes crowds and has a low tolerance for people in general, and will only accept a few for maintenance of his abode only. and yet, an awfully incapable and bumbling girl like you finds yourself at such a place. uraume wouldn't be surprised if lord sukuna lopped your head off one day, if he managed to catch sight of your silly mistakes.

the servants have very minimal contact with the lord. he's often out tormenting whomever challenges him on the battlefield, and even when he's home, none of you are brave enough to be loitering about in areas where he's currently present. uraume is the only one who usually speaks with him directly.

today, you've been reluctantly given the job of wiping down the floorboards of the engawa before the courtyard. you quite like this, because it's nice and sunny outside, and so you'll get to admire the butterflies while you work.

theres a pretty little pond with koi fish here as well, and you've been permitted to feed them some vegetable and seafood scraps, so you'll be doing that afterwards.

you've run up and down against the wooden flooring a couple of times with a rag, and soon enough, you get catch eye of a bright blue butterfly that flutters around the garden. you stand on the edge of the engawa, absorbed with the view. it's not everyday that you get to be here, after all. allegedly, this is lord sukuna's favourite spot to lounge about when he's home.

you get so distracted that you don't notice the intimidating presence behind you, even though he's a man whose aura bleeds all over the place, wherever he may be. sukuna looms over you and is silent as he ponders taking your head for annoying him by standing about in front of him like an airhead with an incredibly lacking sense of survival.

no, he shouldn't. he'd get more annoyed if your blood spilled over the floorboards, and he'd have to wait until the stench of your blood flees the area. however, before he can say a word of 'get lost', you manage to notice the shadow of the figure behind you.

you turn around and see him close up for the first time. a strange noise escapes your throat. you get so startled, your feet loses its balance, and you go backwards off the edge of the engawa. the dirty rag is thrown up in the air in a frenzy by accident as you try not to fall over.

thud! you're on your back on the garden floor. making haste, you frantically get into the position you were taught to get into by uraume, if you ever happened to come across lord sukuna by any chance. you kneel and lower your head until your forehead hits the ground.

and with such nice comedic timing, the dirty rag you'd thrown into the air falls directly onto the back of your head. you shut your eyes tightly and bite your lip in sheer embarrassment. you then realise that your humiliation is not what's really important right now. you might lose your life here.

perhaps you should apologise? are you even allowed to speak to him? what would you be apologising for, anyway? for breathing in the same direction as him? for not noticing him right away?

when uraume runs into the scene, what they witness is rather... unique. the useless servant girl on her knees and with a dirty rag on her head, trembling frantically. and lord sukuna, who seems to be viewing her with what seems to be mild amusement, and not annoyance.

"sukuna-sama... i apologise for any tardiness displayed by the servant. i didn't realise you would be coming here as soon as you came back."

usually, he enjoys a full meal before going out to the courtyard.

amongst your frantic thoughts, you almost tear up at the sound of that familiar voice. uraume-san! can they save you? i mean, sure, they only care about lord sukuna and him only, but surely they wouldn't want your blood to taint this perfect courtyard, right? especially when it's his favourite view!

"we shall accept any form of punishment you see fit for us."

we!? who's we?! you internally sob.

"it's fine."

a deeper voice responds. it's the first thing he's said since you noticed him.

"you can take her away. i'm going to stay here a while."

you hear the large man sit himself down.

"you. stand up and head back to your quarters."

you get up as quickly as you went down. the rag drops to the floor and you have to bend down to pick it up again with speed. you bow deeply again before following uraume out of the area. you can finally breathe again.

"consider yourself lucky. it seems sukuna-sama is in a pleasant mood today."

you later get scolded by uraume after you tearfully explained how you managed to get dirt all over your back and ended up with rag over your head.

meanwhile back in the courtyard, sukuna replays that scene of you in his head--of you turning around with eyes as wide as saucepans, something about you left an impression on him, and its not just because of way you made an absolute fool of yourself.

later, he comments to uraume about how you seemed a little different than the usual ones they pick to have as servants.

"shall i get rid of her? servants can always be replaced if you desire it, sukuna-sama."

"no, leave her. i was only curious."

uraume is left a little stunned. curious? over a mere servant girl? they are in no place to judge, but goodness, it's a rare thing for lord sukuna to be curious about somebody.

uraume has absolutely no qualms of disposing a person if they end up being no use to the lord. however, they never step out of line and act upon their own judgements alone. if there is someone who has piqued his interest, then uraume shall make sure that nothing interferes with their master's source of entertainment.

it's been a while again since you last saw lord sukuna. and you're quite thankful for it, after that humiliating first impression you gave him.

the days have been somewhat peaceful, with only the occasional grumbling from uraume, upset by your helplessness in preparing and cooking food, as usual. after multiple cuts and burns, they decided that you were not to come even a metre into the kitchen area.

that's fine by you, anyway. cleaning and sweeping while you hum your silly tunes is what you prefer.

night arrives with the moon hanging up brightly, like it always does. you think it's going to be another uneventful closure to the evening, but uraume soon appears at the servant's quarters, looking for you. they look a little uneasy. the very few other female servants whisper amongst themselves.

"sukuna-sama has requested for you. come with me."

oh...

you feeling like crying.

there is nothing that you can do. 'requested' so they may say, but everyone knows rejection means possible death. so you follow uraume outside.

walking with them in the corridor, every step feels like it's bringing you closer to disaster.

"uraume-san... what exactly is sukuna-sama requesting me for...?" you ask cautiously.

"i'm unaware know the details myself. but he's in the middle of a bath. perhaps there's a splatter of blood he can't reach on his back."

yes, but why has he chosen me out of all people?!

but you know better than to question such orders. your hands become clammy with sweat.

you reach the bath area too quickly for your liking, and uraume ushers you inside without further concern for your wellbeing. their only concern is hoping that you don't do anything to displease the lord.

lord sukuna sometimes has a tendency to act upon his own whims, but even uraume was surprised when he suddenly asked for the servant girl he met in the courtyard...

the warmth of the misty steam inside caresses your face gently and also makes your kimono stick to you uncomfortably... making you sweat even more.

lord sukuna is sitting in his oversized, wooden bathtub wordlessly, his back turned to you. splashes of crimson against his skin, just as uraume had said. you take a quiet, deep breath.

kneeling before him as per protocol, you bow your head, despite the floors being soggy with water.

"sukuna-sama. how may i assist you this evening?"

the eyes on the side of his distorted face dart down to look at you.

"it's fairly obvious, isn't it? wash the blood away."

"right away."

you stand up straight, and it was apparently too fast for your poor blood pressure, getting you dizzy momentarily. foolishly so, you still decide to take a few steps with haste on the wet, slippery floor. with a loud yelp, you slip and land on your bottom. you want to scream.

"i-i apologise..." you say tearfully, getting back up.

"...not a dull moment with you, as i figured." he uses a tone of mockery.

there's a hint of a chuckle in his voice, and you're only glad he's amused rather than annoyed at your stupidity. your backside hurts again. it hasn't even been that long since the bruises stopped hurting from the last time you fell over!

you grab a cloth to start scrubbing the man down, holding back your tears. the metallic scent is prominent, and your mind begins to wander about exactly whose blood you were currently wiping away into the bathwater. you try not to think about it too much.

it's not new information that lord sukuna kills mercilessly, and even feasts on humans should he feel like it. you've seen the types of "ingredients" uraume has used in the kitchen at times, and the blood that paints the bottom of the sink. these were all things you needed to get used to seeing and knowing as a servant at this estate.

you keep your face stern as you clean him down delicately, thoroughly. the damp, warm cloth runs along the muscles on his back, neck and shoulders. you squeeze out the blood and dip it back in clean water, before wiping again. he has a delightfully toned body, with many tattoos. and more muscles than you could ever count. you take note of the neck tattoos that resemble the lines on a butterfly's wings. it draws you in, but you have to make sure you don't get too distracted.

you notice there's some blood on his hand as well. you move towards it and clean it down, gentle in the way you go over each finger. you're holding hands with him inevitably as you have to lift it up, and this makes you realise how large this man is. your hand seems almost like a child's in comparison to his. there's something rather exhilarating, yet also terrifying about this size difference.

the hairs on the back of your head rise, for some reason. you notice how his big red eyes are boring into you from the edge of your vision. you feign ignorance and focus on cleaning.

time passes in haste as you finish wiping down the last spot of visible blood from the lord's body.

"all the blood has been cleaned away, sukuna-sama," you tell him.

"is that so?" he asks, looking down at his own body. "but there's a spot left over here," he objects, pointing to the side of his neck, vaguely.

"i- i'm sorry, i must have missed that area. i shall clean it immediately-"

you crane your neck to look towards where he was pointing, your face getting closer to his. the place he mentioned is clean. no blood in sight. you meet his eyes. his lips curl upwards, seemingly pleased.

"finally, you look this way," he says, capturing your gaze.

you freeze on the spot, face heating up.

"your... your neck seems clean... sukuna-sama," you respond quietly, unable to think of anything else to say.

"i was only teasing. was it not apparent?" he smirks at you, and you feel that your heart may burst any second now. from either fear or excitement. or both.

"pardon me. i should have noticed sooner," you say, moving your face away from his.

"...i digress. where's the fun in that? just remain gullible for me."

he flicks your forehead, making you whisper 'ouch!' under your breath.

"understood?"

"yes, my lord."

without further conversation, he stands up to his full height, the water droplets racing down against his skin. you hurriedly grab some towels for him... doing your best to avoid looking at his... ahem. when you hand over the towels, your eyes are shut tight. sukuna gives a deep chuckle.

"silly girl."

since the bath, lord sukuna has developed a tendency to call you over during unpredictable moments, and for unpredictable errands. then, he disappears again for a while. and merely moments before you get too comfortable without his presence around you, he returns to repeat it all over again.

recently, he's taken towards looking for you himself, rather than asking uraume about your whereabouts. it scares the other servants when he barges into their spaces, but he pays them little mind.

this afternoon, he finds you sweeping down the leaves away at the front of the estate, humming to your heart's content.

"i come to check what's making all that noisy ruckus... only to find out that it's you."

your whole body goes stiff at the voice, and you reflexively try to get on your knees, but he stops you.

"keep your head up," he commands you.

"your face is worth gazing at, after all," he adds, albeit under his breath.

the compliment doesn't even register into your head as you immediately stand back up, broom in hand. you thank him for the pardon.

"are you done with the sweeping, yet?" sukuna suddenly asks, looking around with his arms crossed. well-- one pair of them, at least.

"not yet, sukuna-sama. but only a little bit to go," you respond with honesty.

"come to my chambers with a plate of fruits and a knife with you, once you're done. don't take too long."

after that, he promptly takes his leave without further explanation. you stand still for a moment, as you always do. every interaction you have with him leaves you in a bit of a daze. often, you wonder if he's a part of your daydreams.

you shake your head and continue to sweep, silently, this time around. don't take too long, he had ordered.

after you're done with that, you make your way into the kitchen on your tiptoes. you wonder if uraume would believe you, if you were to tell them that you're entering upon sukuna's own request.

but once you make your appearance to the entrance of the kitchen, uraume is already there, ready with a tray with a plate of assorted fruits on it. and a knife sitting next to the plate. the sight of the sharp utensil makes you feel nervous, somewhat.

you take the tray without a word, and head towards the lord's chambers.

three sharp knocks.

"sukuna-sama. i've come with the items you sought for. may i come in?"

"you may."

you slide the door open, and sukuna is there, waiting on the tatami mat while holding a kiseru in his hand. once you enter, he sets it aside after one more puff.

"put it here," he points towards the empty space in front of him.

you place the tray down where he gestured towards, and then sit yourself in front of him. there's a moment of silence as you flicker your gaze from looking at him, to the fruit before you.

"well? what are you waiting for? prepare it for me."

oh, no. you had prayed with every ounce in your body, that he wouldn't request for such a thing, but of course it didn't work. now, you have to display your terrible cutting skills to the very head of this estate.

hands trembling, you reach out for the knife and pick up a peach from the plate. you make a cut towards the seed in the middle. then, you cut diagonally to get one slice out. sukuna opens up his hand, waiting for you to place it in the middle of his palm. you do so, and the piece looks so pathetically tiny that you almost feel ashamed.

"faster," he demands, with a small smile on his face.

you swallow thickly, and try to speed up your cutting. the pieces get more and more jagged and unsightly. but sukuna doesn't display any signs of anger or annoyance.

"such poor knife skills. no wonder uraume left you to do the cleaning only. is that really the best you can do?" he taunts you, laughing through his nose.

"i'm afraid so... i apologise for my lack of skills, sukuna-sama," you confess, trying not to make your lower lip wobble from the anxiety and dejection. did he bring you here just to mock the way you cut fruits?! your brows furrow in determination and you try harder.

after the peaches, you grab a persimmon. they're trickier to prepare, since you have to carefully peel the skin off them as well. you purse your lips.

things go somewhat smoothly at first, but then you start to slip up again. it's slippery, and the blade of the knife slices through your thumb.

"ah-" a small noise leaves your lips and you watch as a drop of your blood runs down your palm. sukuna matches your gaze and narrows his eyes at the same scene.

"such a helpless, troublesome woman."

he grabs your wrist and slowly brings your thumb to his mouth. your eyes widen, and you're speechless as you watch him run his tongue up the trail of your blood and then suck on the small incision on your thumb.

you're like a steaming kettle, with the way your blood rushes through your veins, temperature rising with how flustered you are. sukuna looks at you with your finger still in his mouth.

"su-sukuna-sama... you needn't do such a thing-"

a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his tongue swirl around your wound. he then releases it from his mouth, with a smirk, still holding onto your wrist.

you retract your hand suddenly, due to an indescribable feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. you then begin to fear that snatching your hand away like that might've offended him.

"my apologies, sukuna-sama! if you will excuse me-!"

you stand up and run, and he lets you scurry away, with the same sweet, arrogant grin on his face. down the hallway, he hears you trip over yourself before exiting. it makes him chuckle.

you're a fun way to pass time, when he's not slaughtering millions on the battlefield.

back in your own quarters, you lean yourself against a wall and pant, being out of breath. what had just happened? he... he licked the wound on your finger. and that did something to you. your insides feel all squirmy.

you look down at your thumb, only to realise that the cut has mysteriously disappeared.

after running away from sukuna abruptly like that, you had expected to uraume to chase you up and drag you to him, where you'd be executed for fleeing. but it never happens.

in fact, you haven't seen him again for a while. however this time around, his absence does nothing to keep you relaxed, as you're always on your toes, not knowing when he'd next make an appearance before you. you wonder what he will do to you next, when he does come back sooner or later.

before you can drown in those concerns of yours, uraume sends you outside to hang some laundry out in the sun. some white sheets, freshly washed. you struggle a bit, to carry the large bucket of sheets out to the yard.

the laundry line is a bit high, so you need to grab a small stool as well to successfully get the sheets over it. the wind is gentle, and the sunlight pours endlessly from the skies. truly a perfect day to dry the laundry outside.

the sheets are large, so you find it difficult to squeeze the moisture out by yourself, but you suppose they will eventually dry anyway, thanks to the nice weather. you smile as the cool breeze runs through you, making you feel pleasant.

from afar, sukuna observes this scenic view of you, surrounded by the pure white of the swaying sheets around you, smiling as the wind jostles your hair slightly and the sun accentuates your features rather beautifully.

he walks towards your light.

you're busy trying to hang another sheet on the second line this time. you wish the stool was a tad bit taller. this is rather challenging. even standing on top of it, you need to get on your tippy toes to reach properly. and it doesn't help that the water-weight makes the cloth heavier...

a large hand brushes aside the sheet that covers you from view, startling you. you nearly topple over, but a pair of strong arms catch you, keeping you standing upright.

"how ridiculous. don't you get tired of doing that every time?" he sighs. his second pair of arms are crossed, while the first pair hold you so warmly.

"i'm sorry..." you mumble, staring at him with wide eyes. it's like he appeared out of your thoughts. could this perhaps be a daydream of yours? he fixes your stance so that you can stand on the stool properly again. despite your height boost from this stool, sukuna is still a bit taller than you.

"it feels strange, having you meet me eye-to-eye like this..." sukuna comments, while staring down at you curiously.

and it does feel strange, being almost at his height. how close you feel to him now. maybe this offends him.

"i shall get down immediately," you tell him respectfully, trying to get off the stool. his arms come around again to keep you still.

"ack-!"

"tch. don't overreact. i didn't mean it that way," sukuna mutters, tutting at you.

you stand stiffly with your hands by your sides as he inspects you, anxious yet also excited to find out what his intentions are this time around. every touch he lands on you makes you skin jump, in an intoxicating way.

you focus your vision particularly on the odd looking side of his face. it looks like it has a strange texture. would it still be skin? you want to try and touch it. and... his extra eyes look cute. you gasp at yourself for having such disrespectful thoughts about him. all four of his eyes then focus on your face, as if to notice your gaze, and you feel as though your heart may leap out of your throat. there's a part of sukuna that makes you question whether he can read your mind or not.

"you're curious about this face of mine, are you?" he asks, while smiling.

your jaw hangs open in shock, and you don't know whether to tell him that he's correct or to apologise for your insolence.

"what a strange expression you're making," he chuckles, "so easy to read."

it's not that he can read minds, it's only because you're openly letting yourself known to him, whether you're aware of it or not. transparent, like a perfectly pristine and delicate glass cup. shall he leave his fingerprints on you? shall he leave some cracks in that fragile vessel of yours?

his hands come off your body, and you have to concentrate to keep your balance on the stool, no longer being able to rely on his hold to stand still.

"continue with your duties. i shall call for you later," sukuna states sternly, looking off at the sheets that still wave gently in the wind.

"you didn't squeeze out enough water. it's dripping," he points out the soaking wet ends of the sheets.

you practically jump off of the stool and get to work. in the meantime, the lord has disappeared again. you look into the distance to catch a glimpse of him if you can, but he's nowhere to be seen.

and he never got around to clarifying about what happened to his face. perhaps that's a clear sign to mean that he's not interested in talking about his past.

upon finishing the laundry in completion, you make your way to the kitchen, due to the time being close to serving the lord's evening meal.

the other servants and uraume included, are running around to prepare his dinner to perfection, as usual. for the most part, you're left with nothing to do at these times since none of them trust you with handling the food.

lord sukuna did say he was going to call for you later. you wonder if you'll be able to help bathe him again. or if this time, he'll make you do something different. you're plagued with such daydreams as the servants bustle about behind you.

by the time the busy period finalises, the moon hangs high up amongst the stars, and the darkness of night consumes all. and yet, he still hasn't requested for you at all. you suppose when he said he'd call for you later, he perhaps meant tomorrow or the day after. you never know with the lord. trying to navigate him is like trying to look through the murky depths of the ocean at night.

right when you were about to return to your quarters with everyone else, uraume suddenly approaches you.

"sukuna-sama wishes to see you. make your way to the courtyard now."

your stomach starts stirring once again.

the courtyard is beautiful, even at night. sukuna sits in the now moonlit area, drinking from a sake cup in a languid manner.

it takes courage to speak up behind him.

"did you wish to see me, my lord?"

sukuna turns slightly to the side to look at you, before facing the front again.

"...come. pour me another glass, will you?"

"certainly."

as you pour him more of the crystal clear wine, you have to stay vigilant in order to not accidentally splash any of the expensive liquid outside of the cup from your shaky hands.

tonight, the lord's gaze rests not on you, but on the moon above. you watch along with him. there is nothing but silence in the first few moments you have with him together.

"the moon is beautiful tonight," he finally says, while taking another sip of his sake.

is it normal for one to be envious of the moon? even so, thanks to the moon, you are able to see him bathed in its light, making him look almost ethereal.

"yes it is, sukuna-sama," you agree with him.

there's another momentary silence between the two of you, before you bring up a sudden question.

"...do you enjoy watching the moon often?"

"not often, but at times. it would get boring if i did it everyday."

like almost everything else in life.

"i see. that is most understandable."

the chirping of crickets is audible within the garden, and you pour him another glass of his sake after he finishes his previous cup.

you look up at the black canvas of a sky, littered with specks of white all across it. it's easy to get lost in the sight. and much more comfortable than looking at something like the sun, which could burn the delicate areas of your eyes. you begin to get immersed in the view, and your previous train of thoughts ebb away.

you don't notice the way sukuna has stopped gazing at the sky. he's watching you, instead.

"you must know by now... that i favour you more than the other servants," sukuna brings up carefully.

you stop staring up, and turn around slowly to blink at the man.

"...is- is that true, my lord?" you ask, wondering if he really means that. you don't want to get ahead of yourself.

his brows furrow. how dim-witted can you be?

"perhaps actions will speak better than words."

that phrase alone makes your heart feel like it could leap out of your throat.

"sit closer to me."

you swallow dryly, and shuffle closer to the larger man. he sets his cup down beside him, and brings you even closer to him. his hand holding your waist. sitting with him, hip to hip.

sukuna begins to lean his face down closer to yours. your hands grab your own kimono in tight fists, questioning the reality of this scene, feeling skittish yet also giddy, all at the same time.

"don't run away, this time. i won't allow it."

the way his breath ghosts over the skin of your face, how close his voice is to your ears, sends goosebumps all the way down to your legs. is he going to kiss you? can you handle that?

his lips reach yours, and the softness of them is unreal. this must be a dream. he tastes of the rice wine was sipping on before, and he's doused in the same moonlight as you are, and he's now kissing you. a mere servant.

your ears pound with your own heartbeat, and your hands grip onto your kimono so tightly that it's bound to leave wrinkles behind. they shake slightly. sukuna's large hand comes over one of them, and grabs your wrist delicately.

"relax", he's telling you.

and so, you share your first kiss with him, under the moonlight.

quite a bit of time has passed since that day.

you could say that nothing much has changed - you still have your duties as a servant, and the lord still leaves his home vacant for periods of time.

however, on days when he has returned...

you gently sway your legs that hang off the edge of the engawa, on the very same courtyard as that fateful night. sukuna lays his head on your lap, eyes closed and completely at rest, both sets of his arms relaxed as the breaths he takes are slow.

your hand is unable to stray far from the soft bed of his hair, fingers combing through the peach-coloured strands, nails raking against his scalp with the right amount of strength, the way he loves. he gives the occasional purr when you go over his favourite spots.

it's odd, when merely a few weeks ago, you had trouble initiating these harmless touches without explicitly asking for permission beforehand.

"sukuna-sama, may i touch your hair?"

"would it be alright if i could hold your hand, sukuna-sama?"

"may i press a kiss against your cheek, my lord?"

you giggle to yourself as you remember his response to your endless series of questions and requests.

"tch... quit asking me about every little thing. just do it. i'll let you know if i don't like it."

and from then on, you've been bravely placing your hands on him whenever you wanted. and he hasn't been displeased by you, as of yet.

you freely caress the side of his face that you would describe as... unique. you're always curious about the nature of it, even now. but you don't invasively ask questions. you wonder if you'll ever feel brave enough to, one day.

his larger eyes open up narrowly in an abrupt manner, and they squint at you. it makes you nervous, in the way that heart fluttering way. you never get used to the feeling of being under his intense gaze.

red, with ringed irises. you've started to enjoy this colour more ever since you started to meet his eyes more often. you stare back at him but, oh- he's closed them up again.

your hand continues to softly caress him.

sukuna remains mellow, not really falling asleep, but also not in a state of full alertness. your lap serves as a great pillow.

this continues, until suddenly your touches become slower and more distracted. and he can tell your attention has been divided to something else.

the dismayed lord cracks open one eye to check what might have served as a distraction to you.

a butterfly...?

your eyes follow the pretty blue creature, landing on the flora of the garden, in it's carefree nature. a small smile blooms on your face and your hand's movements dwindle, which should displease him. he could cleave the thing into little bits, and let its remains scatter the lush garden.

but, he doesn't. sukuna lets you indulge in these small moments of joy, simply because he's gotten rather softhearted. he doesn't enjoy seeing you get upset at him. though he has control over you as your lord, his hand can't extend all the way to your heart and mind.

(and may the world burst into flames if you ever end up disliking him.)

he recalls... you were also staring at a butterfly the day he first met you, weren't you? so distracted that you didn't notice his presence. he doesn't understand your affection for such a fragile creature.

but...he supposes that he's the same.

what came over him, that he wound up caring for a silly woman like you?

as if to reaffirm your concept of being 'silly', you suddenly give a small sneeze, facing away from the front. his head gets jostled in your lap, which makes him frown and sigh.

"my apologies, sukuna-sama... perhaps it was due to the pollen from the garden..." you give your excuse sheepishly.

well, no matter. he'll keep you with him for as long as he desires. perhaps he can use your butterfly-infatuation to his advantage.

not long after, once the sun dips over the horizon and the area becomes a little chilly, sukuna decides he wants to take a bath before the day comes to an end. and you'll be coming along, of course.

...by now, you've been with him in the bath area at least a dozen times before.

nevertheless, you never seem to get used to seeing him in his naked glory.

sukuna is sitting in his tub, and you're running a warm, wet cloth over his shoulders, scrubbing lazily. he was already quite clean enough today, in your opinion.

a feeling of deja vu hits when your gaze falls onto the tattoo on the back of his neck. you remember having such a thought before. though it's not the strongest resemblance, you see it regardless.

without much resistance, you give in to the desire, and bring your lips to the area to give him a small kiss. it takes him by slight surprise.

"the tattoo on your neck resembles the lines on a butterfly's wings, sukuna-sama. it looks elegant, and wonderful," you tell him.

...he is not displeased with that comparison, strangely enough.

"is that so? no wonder i've felt your stare on it multiple times before," sukuna responds.

you never realised that he'd caught onto that. were you always staring that prominently? you continue wiping him down with the warm cloth, feeling a bit shy all of a sudden.

sukuna thinks for a moment.

"how about you join me in here, tonight?" he asks, out of the blue.

"p-pardon?!"

"quit acting so timid. go on, get yourself cleaned. i'm waiting."

you feel your face heat up at the thought of being... naked with him. anxiousness starts running through your body. you wonder if he really means it, or if he's trying to fluster you again. your lack of action causes him to raise an eyebrow.

"what, you don't want to?"

"no, no! i do, my lord! i'm just... a bit taken aback."

you spring into action. heart pounding as you shed your clothes. he doesn't turn his head or peek at you from where he sits, but your eyes dart to him to check anyways. you clean and rinse yourself adequately, with shaky hands.

"shall i lend a hand in scrubbing your back?" sukuna suddenly calls out. there is sarcasm in his tone.

"that wouldn't be necessary, my lord... i can do it myself..." you respond bashfully.

you only pray that you don't slip over on the way to the tub.

when you do eventually finish up, you walk carefully towards him. walking past where he sits, you reach the other side of the tub. you avoid his eyes as you enter at a slow pace, arms making an effort to cover your breasts. you're finally seated in the same tub as him. the water is steaming, and it's quite deep. still, you hang on to the edge and keep yourself a little distanced from sukuna.

"aw come on. it was mere moments ago that you kissed the back of my neck. so shy all of a sudden?"

"that- that was a different situation, sukuna-sama..."

"the only difference now is that we're both nude," he shrugs.

"nevermind that...the water looks a little deep for you," he says, almost mockingly so- "come. i'll let you on my lap."

you cannot tell whether he is only teasing, or if he actually wants you on his lap.

"quickly- don't run my patience thin."

you make your way towards him without further hesitation.

sitting on his lap, you find that he's oddly comfortable. an arm of his loops around your waist, holding you tight against him, as if to prevent you from running away.

the lord takes your hand and caresses it between his thick fingers. your back leans against his bare chest and abs as you relax yourself more. you wonder if the mouth on his stomach doesn't feel uncomfortable when you sit against it like this.

sukuna's extra arms begin to get more and more handsy with you. you feel his large palms on your breasts, squeezing the flesh gently. not that you find it unpleasant, but it makes you feel all squirmy and restless and hot. when he touches your chest like that, you can't help but turn your head slightly to give him a needy look. it makes him lean down and kiss you warmly.

his tongue explores your mouth in a thorough manner, encouraging a growing heat inside of you. you start gripping his hand harder, though you doubt he feels a thing from it.

when lord sukuna kisses you, you can't tell whether time is passing too quickly, or too slowly. you lose the ability to think of anything else, other than his soft lips and his rough tongue. and you believe that he's aware of this fact himself. why else could he be smiling against your lips like he is right now?

you don't know how long you'd kissed him for in that bathtub. but by the time you stepped out of it, your hands were wrinkly from the prolonged moisture.

and you came out with... feelings of unsatisfaction. rather than getting a little further than kissing, sukuna had stopped abruptly and told you with a smirk that he was ready to get back to his chambers now.

upon getting dressed again, you linger awkwardly around the man, wanting more but not knowing how to inform him of it. the lord looks at you keenly.

"well? aren't you going back to your chambers?" he asks with a sly undertone.

"...i would like to escort you to your room... my lord," you tell him, averting his gaze.

"oh? i don't recall needing an escort, when my room's right around the corner. but if you insist." you can't see what kind of expression he's wearing right now, but you imagine he's smiling at you teasingly. like he always does.

you trail behind him as he walks over to his chambers.

for sure, it doesn't take long until he reaches his room. sukuna slides open the door and makes his way to his large futon in the middle of the tatami floor. he makes himself comfortable, and lays on his side while you watch him from outside his room.

"you're still here. well? are you planning on tucking me into bed next?" he asks with his usual mockery, chuckling through his nose.

you frown cutely, feeling a deep sense of unfairness in the pit of your stomach.

"i was just about to leave, sukuna-sama," you respond a bit haughtily, getting bold with him.

"is that so. then run along," he ushers you, following that with a big yawn. your frown gets deeper.

you begin to slowly close his door, but then stop when it's only cracked open slightly. you brace yourself for the request you are about to make.

"sukuna-sama... could i sleep beside you, tonight?" you ask meekly.

his lips curl up similarly to that of a cheshire cat. finally, you're getting honest with him. he loves the feeling of having you run about in the palm of his hand.

"i thought you said you were going to leave?"

"please...?" you muster your best puppy eyes.

the lord smirks again, and eventually beckons you in with his index finger. you perk up, and step into his room with excitement, running into his futon like a dog, tail wagging from the happiness of being with its owner.

"you're like a silly mutt. foolish, but cute. i like the way you beg for my affection."

you're not sure on how to feel about being compared to a mutt, but you suppose it's not the worst comparison in the world.

"woof," you say quietly, shuffling closer to him. he laughs deeply at you. from your tight embrace with him, you feel the vibrations from his chuckling against his chest.

...there's always something hot or warm about sukuna.

his whole presence feels like a roaring fire at times, burning with his strength and charisma - the flames and temperature threatening to scald anyone around him.

but,

right here, when you're in his arms, the fire becomes tame. still an unrelenting and strong flame, but something more controlled and comfortable to be around.

you close your eyes with a smile, satisfied with this outcome.

"oi. i don't recall saying you could sleep yet."

that makes your eyes bolt open with confusion. sukuna furrows his brows and grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together.

"you're in my futon, and all you can think about is sleeping? i don't know how to feel about that."

"oh... was there something else you wanted from me, sukuna-sama?"

he looks further displeased by your question and suddenly grabs both your wrists, pinning them above your head. you gasp, surprised by his sudden shift in mood.

"we should continue with where we left off, shouldn't we?"

another hand comes up to hold your neck gently for a moment, before he slides it down slowly to your chest, the warmth from his palm trailing with it, reaching your clothed breasts, making your head spin with arousal.

"were you not anticipating something like this? when you asked to stay the night beside me."

he leans down and presses his lips against the space just below your ear, making you shudder. he likes this reaction, and continues kissing down your neck.

"s-sukuna-sama..."

"what a lewd tone you're using with my name. i hope you're prepared for the consequences of that."

he overtakes your senses with another searing hot kiss. hands clawing away at your kimono. teasing touches to your chest. his flames are threatening to envelop you, producing yet another unique kind of heat.

but you've never welcomed anything else more in your life. you'd gladly burn to ashes if it means being so close to your lord, your light.

...it's safe to say that you woke up the next morning with more bruises and bite marks than the number of fingers you have on your hands. and the lord lays beside your exhausted frame, aimlessly curling a lock of your hair around his finger with a satisfied grin on his face.

during one quiet afternoon, uraume beckons you towards them.

"i've been ordered to dress you lavishly. come with me."

you follow them without question, wondering what the sudden occasion could be. lord sukuna has left for the battlefield once again, so he's been missing for a couple of days. is he due to come back this evening?

such hopes fill your mind.

you stand awkwardly as uraume fits a rather elegant and expensive, but beautiful looking kimono onto you. it feels odd. you could even say you feel a bit guilty; in what world would someone dress a servant so extravagantly? nonetheless, you accept the treatment with silence. you get lost in your own daydreams, while uraume prepares you for whatever's been arranged for you.

by the end of it all, they angle you to face the mirror properly, their hands placed on your shoulders.

"it's complete. feel free to take a look at yourself."

you turn your face to one side, and then the other, all while keeping your eyes on the mirror. you look... stunning.

"th-thank you..." you tell uraume, quite speechless.

"please withhold that gratitude for lord sukuna. he was the one that arranged for this, after all."

you're then told to wait at the courtyard, for the lord's return. tingles of excitement run through your veins, and reaches the tips of your fingers, at having your hopes confirmed. he's due to return tonight.

quite a bit of time passes. yet, no signs of him coming back yet. you swing your legs back and forth languidly over the engawa, looking up at the sky aimlessly. though you shouldn't be doing such a thing when you've been fitted with a lovely kimono, there's no one around to scold or stop you from your usual habits.

you sigh, wondering when he'll be back. your eyes wander around the garden, this time. under the moonlight, there's a singular butterfly that flutters about, appearing in good timing as if to help cure your boredom.

you step out onto the grass and approach it, lending out a finger towards it to see if it decides to land on your hand. it takes a bit of effort, but after some gentle movements and patience, it eventually stops to linger on your index finger for a while. it allows you to admire every ridge, and all the patterns on the wings in better detail. you wonder whether you'll ever get another opportunity to observe a butterfly so closely again in the future.

a few footsteps resound behind you, getting you startled. when your body moves slightly from the scare, the butterfly flees and seemingly disappears out of sight.

yet, right now, you have no room to feel disappointed by a mere butterfly.

sukuna is smirking at you from a distance, looking very pleased with the way you're dressed for him. he steps down and walks into the garden as well, approaching you languidly, one arm concealed under the sleeve of his kimono.

"welcome back, sukuna-sama. i've been awaiting for your return," you greet him, smiling.

"were you now? missed me that bad?" he asks, reaching out to caress your cheek.

"yes, my lord. i missed you so much. not a day goes by where i don't think about you."

"why, how sweet...perhaps you deserve a reward for your honesty."

"a reward...?" your eyes grow wide and you start getting embarrassingly overjoyed at the idea of a reward given to you by the lord himself.

"so eager. you seem like you're truly getting committed to playing the role of a mutt."

you try to change your expression in haste, but you end up looking more bashful than anything. sukuna laughs at another one of your strange expressions.

"i'm only teasing."

he then pulls his arm out of his sleeve, revealing something you never thought you'd see in his hands.

a hairpin... specifically, one with a large blue butterfly on it. embedded with pretty jewels, and shaped to perfection. it would've been something difficult to obtain. for someone who's always busy creating chaos, when would he have had the time to find such a thing amongst everything else?

"i thought you would enjoy having something like this. do you like it?"

"oh... like would be an understatement, sukuna-sama. i adore it. is it really for me?"

"who else could have it? don't ask foolish questions."

it could only ever belong to you.

he places the pin into your hair, graceful and elegant with his hands. it makes you feel overjoyed. heat rises to your cheeks and they hurt from how much you're smiling.

"not bad at all. it was worth obtaining."

your hand rises to where the hairpin is, and you touch it gently, letting your fingertips feel the texture of the pin and it's butterfly pattern.

"am i... am i pretty, my lord?" you ask sheepishly, looking up at him with your doe eyes.

he's smiling at you rather gently, his eyes mirroring your reflection within them as he gazes down at you in silence. his lack of a verbal response almost makes you nervous, however.

sukuna reaches out to hold your hand, and pulls you closer towards him. he's glad that nobody else is around, for he's certain they would've also felt so drawn to you, like he is right now.

he palms your cheek again, before letting his thumb brush over your lips delicately.

you never sever your gaze from him, continuing to await his reply.

"... you're beautiful,"

he finally relents.

sukuna then presses his lips against yours, underneath the moon's blessing. once again, and forevermore.

fin.

Masterlist

#sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #soft sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you

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weirdmageddon · 8 months

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i love these tags this person is so right

actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?

i wanna get into this actually

(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)

even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie

but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"

im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,

don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity

dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor

(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)

despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him

rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said

and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol

roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"

side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.

i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect

but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?

yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise

so, dave's environment

the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors

his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)

roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok

what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)

rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:

and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear

but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable

there two types of ironies at play here:

seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)

doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)

you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.

"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"

how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1

he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”

dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.

*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift

dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:

if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.

basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"

speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use

oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”

btw dave lalonde would look like this to me

#homestuck #homestuck meta #dave strider #mom lalonde #roxy lalonde #hs #strilonde guardian swap

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onlyswan · 1 month

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summary: in which the sweet ache of yearning metamorphoses into the art of intimacy and knowing.

idol!jk x reader, est. relationship / fluffy fluff, a dash of angst, explicit content (minors dni!!) / word count: 10.5k

warnings/content: divided into seven parts. it’s like a timeline hehe <3 ; mainly in jk’s pov!! ; underaged drinking (oc is 18 in that part but the legal age of drinking in sk is 19 so!) ; mention of almost? n*des (neither sent by our mcs) ; making out ; thigh grinding ; brief or*l (f. rec + allusions to m. rec) ; mention and allusion to s*x [yesyes it’s the first time] [oc may or may not cry a little too…] ; they have a ‘what if i die before you?’ discourse lmao

playlist! restless - bibi ; lily of the valley - daniel ; who do you love - the black skirts ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande ; snow - josh makazo

> in which masterlist!

note: look at my gorjus ethereal bf !!!! anyway… hi, i’m back ^_^ here’s my not so little offering to those who’s been missing the iw couple <3 as always i’d love to hear your thoughts :") come chat!!

—

I. THE FALLING

“just stay the night.” you blurt out, turning to jungkook to express your worry. “i can’t let you leave right now. it’s not safe.”

his wide eyes scan the headline of the news once more.

heavy snowfall, road accident, several injured… versus staying the night at the apartment of not quite his friend, not quite his lover, for the first time.

he can’t deny that he favors the latter over the former with an explicable feeling rendering him breathless. still, he can’t allow his enthusiasm to cloud his better judgement. he knows he’s still somewhat of a stranger to you. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome or make you feel uncomfortable in your own space.

“are you sure you’re comfortable with it?”

“sure. should i be worried?“

“no! uhm, i just thought not everyone would be comfortable to have a person they’re not very close with to sleep over.”

you chuckle, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “chill. i have bigger things to be scared of than the guy who just cried with me while watching an anime movie.”

oh… he thought you were too absorbed in wiping your own tears to notice him crying too.

he slumps back on the sofa with a sigh. “i see. i guess we’re left with no choice then.”

“i have an extra toothbrush!”

—

jungkook doesn’t quite understand people’s obsession with his eyes, but getting enamored by the innocence that yours seem to glisten with, he wonders if he is experiencing the same case.

“can you see if this fits you?”

you stand before him with a stack of neatly folded clothes, unraveling a pair of gray sweatpants to hold up infront of him.

“i think… there’s a string? oh, there’s none.”

he chuckles. “you forgot?”

“well, it’s not mine. my ex never came back for his clothes.“ you huff with a roll of your eyes, muttering a silent his loss into the air. “i’ve washed it though! don’t worry! it’s just- you know- sleeping in denim pants is uncomfortable.”

does that mean you still wear the clothes of your exes? this pisses him off for some unknown reason. he would much rather sleep uncomfortably than wear their clothes.

you kindly smile, pushing the black knitted sweater against his chest. “but this is mine. it’s really warm and comfortable!”

but on another note, you’re too sweet and thoughtful. how could he ever say no?

—

the sweatpants is a little loose around his waist. your sweater, however, feels incredibly soft against his skin. as he walks back into the living room, he pulls down his sweater paws and runs his hands across its sleeves. if he had to describe the feeling it evokes, he would say it is very much similar to rolling around on freshly washed and dried bedsheets.

“it’s nice, right?”

he whips his head around upon hearing the sound of your voice. for a quick second, you caress his arm with the back of your hand, and even with the barrier separating your skin from his, the casual touch causes his breath to hitch.

“i finished cleaning the room. i set up a comforter on the floor so you can take the bed.”

“is that so? thank you!”

he zooms past you. you’re left standing alone, blinking in confusion. he is more than happy to welcome himself into your bedroom… so he can slyly steal the bed you prepared for yourself. he slides under the covers, makes himself all cozy with his hands resting on the back of his head as if it’s not a raging winter and he’s lying under the summer sun.

“and what do we have here?”

jungkook cracks one eye open. there you are leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed. you raise your eyebrows at him, demanding an answer.

“what?” he smiles childishly. “you’re the one doing me a favor. i’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“how polite. suit yourself, sir.” you shake your head in amusement, smiling.

you enter the room, flicking the lightswitch off and locking the door at the speed of light. without thinking, probably; muscle memory formed by your routine. he is the only thing not a part of it. yet.

“goodnight, jungkook.”

“goodnight.”

he still sees you moving around in the dark. you crouch down beside him and he feels the extra pillow he’s partially crushing under his weight be jerked away all of a sudden.

“i need this one. sorry.” you whisper-shout apologetically. “goodnight! sweet dreams!”

—

jungkook sighs, tired of mindlessly scrolling through social media. his eyes flutter shut as he allows his phone to collapse on his chest. he is yet to even figure out if going to work later would be possible because of the blocked roads. he has gotten enough earful about not heading straight to the dorm and he cannot risk any more. because then, he would have to see less of you.

he sneakily opens his eyes, craning his head to the side to steal a glance of you, but he finds that you’ve already fallen asleep on your textbook and he’s unable to look away again. bathed in the warm light of the lampshade on your bedside, he has never seen you more peaceful. he learns with hard evidence that you’re a side sleeper, curled up underneath the blanket and cutely snuggled against the pillow you took from him.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been admiring you, but he knows he doesn’t want you to think of him as a creep. you stir in your sleep and his hand swiftly flies to his phone. pretending to be absorbed in reading the first tweet he comes across, he tries taking another subtle glimpse of you.

it’s as if he’s been caught and punished.

he flinches.

your textbook collides with the floor, landing only inches next to his pillow. he begins sweating. he could’ve easily gotten a concussion at best, death at worst.

he sits up with his elbows anchoring him, poking around to investigate the cause of the fall. admittedly, he’s a little sad to see your back now facing him.

“shit, what am i doing?” he roughly rubs his face to knock some sense back into him.

he needs to get some sleep. yeah, that’s it. nothing more.

he picks up your textbook, taking it upon himself to bring it over to your desk. on his way back, he also decides to to turn off the lampshade.

his finger freezes on the button, however. he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to silence the giggle that threatens to escape him— so fucking endeared to discover that you’ve kicked off your blanket and rolled over to your other side along with the pillow, your thigh carelessly slumped over it.

he tucks himself back into bed, heart feeling all warm and fuzzy.

“so, so adorable.”

the words escape him without thought; the smile on his face ever-present even as he drifts off to dreamland.

—

II. ALLOW ME TO LINGER BY THE DOOR

“hey, it’s getting late. shouldn’t you be heading home by now?”

you sit beside jungkook on the sofa after a phone call, and his round eyes grow twice their size when you steal the iced tea from his grasp, nonchalant as your lips wrap around the same red straw his have been only seconds ago.

he awkwardly clears his throat, perhaps to mask his loud heartbeat. “is your friend okay?”

“oh, she’ll be fine. it’s her fault so i can’t do much for her this time.” you shrug, picking up your chopsticks as you eye the last dumpling in the bowl. “still hate that guy, though.”

“the one you think is lying about being rich?”

“i don’t know much about real ones, but i’m pretty sure i’ve seen enough fake diamonds!”

that seems to hits the right spot to elevate your mood. you hum happily as you chew, collapsing on the cushions and looking straight ahead at the television screen.

“sorry about that. you must be bored and tired by now.”

“about that…” jungkook swallows his nervousness. he rests his arm on top of the sofa, just to act cool. he’s so close to you yet still so distant. “i’m dead tired from filming today. i’ve been up since four in the morning. would it be too much trouble if i spend the night again?”

“i should be the one asking you that. why do you like this trashy place way more than i do?” you shake your head, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin. “i’ll go fix up so you can rest then. you’re lucky minji didn’t claim the bed first.”

fuck, he was supposed to get kicked out?

“wait! do you need a change of clothes?”

“there’s no need!” he replies a little too quickly. if he has to wear the clothes of another one of your exes, he might end up on the news for setting himself on fire. “i have extras in my backpack i didn’t got to wear today.”

“oh, okay.” you flash him a smile before disappearing into the bedroom.

yeah, how convenient.

he exhales through his mouth.

when did he start lying? his mother would be very disappointed in him. but on the other hand, his father would explode in boisterous laughter and pat him on the back. nevermind… that just makes it worse.

“guess i’m going to hell!” he shrugs, wearing a smile that is rather too jubilant.

he grabs his backpack on the floor and heads to the bathroom; your home is another home away from home.

—

jungkook is exhausted from dance practice. he must’ve exerted himself too hard again without realizing it. for the third time this week, he’s attaching pain relief patches to his neck and shoulders, shirt pulled to the side as to expose the area. normally, he’d just take it off without care, but he’s in a different setting. while he’s pretty confident with the current condition of his body, it would be rude to strip out of nowhere. and you make him nervous. would he fluster you or would you fluster him? he’s not prepared to find out yet.

“are you okay?”

his movements from below capture your attention amidst catching up to the events in your group chats.

“i’m okay, just a little sore. don’t worry!” he waves off your concern with a scrunch of his nose. “i also fell asleep in the car earlier so…”

“i can give you a massage. if you want.”

“no, it’s fine.” even though the offer sounds extremely tempting, especially coming from you. “i know you’re tired too.”

“hm, your loss. i’m kind of an expert at it.”

he squints his eyes at you. “really?”

“you don’t believe me?”

you sit up on the bed with an offended gasp, and he laughs at how you quite literally rose up to the challenge.

“we do have actual experts come in and take care of us too, you know that?”

“excuse you, i’m an actual expert! i have more than a decade of experience!”

he isn’t surprised to witness you climb down immediately afterwards, sitting behind him with your hands already on his shoulders.

“hmm, my dad worked at construction sites. my mom had a desk job. this- this was my job.” your fingers begin pressing down as if you’re assessing him, touching the bare skin of his still exposed shoulder. “got paid with extra allowance. making money was easy back then.”

“you’re so adorab- ah, ah, ah-” his sentence is cut short by his own self when you apply pressure on a big knot, gently massaging it in small circles to loosen the tightly wound muscle fibers. “fuck, it hurts… yeah, that’s good. don’t stop.”

he hears you snort, feels your forehead collapse on his back as vibrant giggles rack your body. a blush of red creeps up to his cheeks and he’s thankful that you can’t see his face.

he laughs along, belly aching. “okay, okay- i heard it! i should keep my mouth shut!”

“no no no, i won’t laugh anymore!”

“you’re still doing it right now!”

“i’ll stop!” you sniffle, laughed to the point of tears. you squeeze his shoulders. “just relax! you’re so tense here, see? no wonder it hurts.”

there’s no denying that his body is pushed to its limits everyday; he has grown accustomed of this kind of lifestyle and he doesn’t complain. you’re making him want to do it all the time, though. if it means getting pampered like this? hell yeah.

“it hurts here too. over- over here-” he reaches a hand to his back, patting the area that has been bothering him all day. “this part. will you make it go away, please?”

“here? your shoulder blade?”

“yes!”

“okay. tell me if i should go gentler or harder. i don’t want to hurt you.”

it’s his turn to snort. he shortly learns that was not a smart move.

“ah, ah, ah-” you pull at his ear and this time he moans in pain. “oh, come on! you gave that one away!”

“shut up! you’re not allowed to laugh too!”

—

he tries not to create more embarrassing sounds. at some point he begun to busy himself with his phone, but to no avail, there are occasional moans and grunts he can’t bite down because you weren’t lying about being a pretty damn good masseur. and then he does it on purpose once, just to hear you laugh again, because his being already feels a million times lighter and you show no signs of exhaustion or boredom.

“you have a mole here,” you casually observe. he feels a light touch on the side of his neck and the butterflies in his stomach become untamed. “it’s sexy.”

he blushes, caught off guard by the compliment. “thank you.”

“you’re welcome.” you hum.

the minutes pass by and he is no longer faking silence, however. all he can think about now is how he wishes that he was lying down for this. how long has it been? you’ve been definitely at it for almost an hour. he yawns, eyelids fighting to stay open but failing miserably.

“hey, wipe your drool.”

he blinks. your beautiful face greets him— for a second, he’s convinced that he has begun dreaming. with a mischievous grin, you lift the collar of his shirt to wipe the corners of his lips, and in a state of near delirium, he cackles.

“seriously, thank you… i-i don’t even know what to say. i really needed that.” he sighs, carelessly rubbing his heavy eyes. “i’ll treat you to dinner tomorrow. how about that?”

“sounds good. now go to sleep.” you pat his back before rising on your feet. “your head kept on dropping and i felt bad.”

“that happens a lot.”

“well, it’s bad for your neck. keep doing it and i’ll get more free dinners.”

the unmistakable sound of a kiss that follows, it suspiciously matches with the warmth that lingers on his cheek.

“goodnight!”

“goodnight…” he only manages to mumble.

his mind has gone off to space. you tuck yourself into your bed after turning off the lampshade while jungkook feels like he just got blasted to the moon. he needs to get out of here. STAT.

“i’ll go drink some water. do you want me to get you a glass?”

“no, i’m fine.”

he makes out your figure shuffling in the dark, snuggled closely to a pillow.

he nods, which you probably didn’t even see. he steps out of the room as quietly as possible, slowly closing the door as to produce the smallest click. he pads to the kitchen still feeling light, almost like he’s walking on a path made out of clouds. he pours himself a glass of cold water from the fridge, chugs it down to the very last drop.

he licks his lips as he sets down the glass on the counter. he sighs deeply. he can still feel the outline of your lips, sticky lip balm printed on his skin. is it normal that he couldn’t be bothered to wipe it off?

“totally worth going to hell for.” he muses, unaware of the smirk that has started playing on his lips.

he briskly washes the glass at the sink, wiping it dry with a towel before deposting it back into the rack.

as expected, you’ve already fallen asleep by the time that he returns. the light from the hallway casts a glow over your face and it’s a sight that is painfully intimate in its own peculiar way.

he can’t put a name to it, but whatever this feeling is, he likes it and he wants it to last.

and so, he lingers by the door for a few seconds more.

—

III. THE YEARNING

jungkook hisses your name with yet another curse, heart so close to jumping out of his chest. when you were on the phone incoherently begging him to take you home from the club, he expected to carry out a passed out person from his car to their apartment floor, which he found no problem with aside from the possibility of having to deal with them throwing up.

instead, he is struck by an unusual combination of amusement and distress. he has been running around trying to capture you as you spend your final bursts of energy ringing strangers’ doorbells. your exhilarated laughter echoes throughout the hallways. he must confess that he was laughing along with you the first time… until it started to get a little bit out of hand.

if someone recognizes him by chance, he would be beyond fucked.

“don’t- don't do it! stop it! please!” he finally manages to seize your wrist before it can reach another, forced to wrap his arms around your torso so you won’t escape from him again. “are you crazy? it’s 3am! people are sleeping!”

“that’s the point.” you mewl, looking back to him with a childish pout underneath the hood of your coat. “why are they sleeping? it’s when the ghosts come out. does no one ever think about ghosts’ feelings? because i do! if i were a ghost, i’d be lonely and crying right now!”

oh my god, what is happening?

“so let’s invite them and everyone for more drinks!” you jump up and down, his secure hold doesn’t hold a candle to your hypernese. “jungkook, i want to drink more! more more more! buy me!”

unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to dwell on your cuteness. he hears a door click from behind and his instincts instantaneously kick in. oh shit, you actually fucking woke someone up. he sweeps you off your feet, clasping a hand over your mouth to mute your angry protests. he turns at a corner, trapping you against the wall.

a deep and manly voice fills the silence. “hello? who’s there?”

two pairs of eyes widen, staring at each other as if they can read minds through them. he notices the unsteady rise and fall of your chest; your heart must be beating as fast as his. he has to pull down his black mask to be able to breathe.

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he grumbles with a pointed look.

when you smile, he perceives it first through the palm of his hand before it reaches your eyes. only then does he fully register the dangerously close proximity between you.

dangerous because he wants to kiss you.

dangerous because you’d dare him to do it and his self-control has been reduced to a million cracks.

“ah, this prank again! fucking teenagers!”

and the door slams shut. you both flinch.

“that guy has a fridge full of beer!”

you are vexed, voice muffled but still clearly loud. you harshly paw at his forearm to remove his hand, and your pout finally comes into view.

“no, you’ve had enough! seriously, what am i going to do with you? huh? you shouldn’t even be drinking at all.” he blows a loud breath, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “how did you even get in the club? fake id? you have it, don’t you?”

you rush to defend yourself. “i’m only younger by a year and i don’t look like it! as if they actually care in those places. they only want money.”

he begins to question if the bloodshot of your eyes is solely because of the alcohol or you’re also on the verge of tears.

“why? are you mad at me?”

“no, i’m not mad. should i be?”

“…i don’t know. why do you even care about things like that? you’re not my boyfriend or my parent so i don’t need to explain myself to you.” you angrily ramble, wriggling out of the tight spot he had you trapped in.

and that felt like a fucking dagger to the heart.

“you know what? i-i can do this. i can take care of myself, so go home.”

“____, don’t be like this, please. you’re drunk.”

“i’m not drunk, just tipsy! you can go home!”

he runs after you, but you shrug him off and continue walking away, perhaps a little too fast. he curses himself when he catches up to you seconds too late, witnessing you fall over to the floor with a thump and a whimper.

“are you okay?! where does it hurt?!”

you shake your head profusely, but your hands gripping your ankle gives away the answers. he doesn’t press you further. without another word, he hooks an arm under your knees and the other under your back, swooping you from the floor. he stands up straight, adjusts your position slightly, and walks the path you attempted to travel alone in your intoxicated state.

perhaps he is mad. he went and abandoned his rest time when you said that you needed him, only for you to rudely send him home. he has the right to be mad, even just a little bit, despite the fact that he isn’t your boyfriend, right?

not that it matters.

you cling to his neck and it all melts away.

he glances down at you. a soft smile has replaced your frown. “oh, so now you’re happy again?”

“yes,” you tilt your head. “feels like i’m floating.”

“where’s your key?”

“huh?”

“your key-”

“oh!”

you dig out the item from the pocket of your coat. you proudly dangle it infront of his face along with the colorful keychains attached to it; the bear was gifted by yours truly from japan. he totally forgot that it existed. the last time he saw it was when he tossed it in the paper bag he gave you.

he’s not even your boyfriend. the two of you know that doesn’t make sense anymore.

—

after he sets you down on the sofa, he kneels on the floor to remove the heels from your aching feet. he gets the hang of it after unfastening the second strap. while he’s preoccupied, you strip off your coat to combat the increased temperature of your body.

“i need to pee.” you urgently kick off the heels as you rise on your feet.

jungkook looks up and forgets how to breathe. you are irresistibly gorgeous; the cherry red mid-thigh dress you’ve been hiding from him hugs your body so perfectly. he’s ensnared and thoroughly convinced that you’re aware of your power to leave men and women alike sweating and tongue-tied.

goddammit, he is mad. you were at the club looking like this among flashing lights and grinding bodies and he is not your boyfriend.

“doesn’t your ankle hurt?”

“doesn’t matter. i need to pee.”

he clicks his tongue as you limp your way towards the bathroom.

“you’re so hardheaded.”

he lifts up your arm to bring it over his shoulders; he holds your waist to assist you.

“and your heart is so soft.” you giggle, and his world stops when you hold his face… peppering his cheek with an amount of kisses he doesn’t have half the mind to count.

you said you’re not drunk, just tipsy. does that mean you genuinely like him this much and you’ll remember it when you wake up?

dear god, he hopes so.

—

jungkook is supposed to wake up in four hours. however, he’s still wide awake sitting by your pillow, mind completely blank on what he’s supposed to do now that you’re safe and sound. he can’t bring himself to leave just yet. you bump against his knee as you shuffle and squirm, eyes closed but yet to land in the confines of slumber. he can hear your rugged and frustrated breathing, can’t help but to hopelessly adore how pretty you are even with knitted eyebrows and tousled hair.

he likes you so much. he knows it hasn’t been that long since you met but the thought of losing the chance of winning you over makes him want to cry and throw a tantrum. you’re running in his mind day and night. you have permeated all his senses. you charm him with your unapologetic existence and you effortlessly captivate his ungiven affections.

when it comes to love, his passion becomes a weakness.

a whine emits from your parted lips as if you sense that something is wrong. your hands pat around the mattress— searching and searching, until they stumble upon him. you push yourself up, head landing on the pillow, and your arms, they hug him close by his waist. only then do you finally come to a still, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

you are at peace and he is experiencing an emotional turmoil— falling in love. this is simply not fair.

the lines are becoming so blurry. he is losing control of his hands, hyperaware of what he is capable with his possession of them. he strokes your head gently, hair brushing across his palm— this is soothing to him as much as it is you.

this feels right, he thinks. he wants time to stretch from this galaxy to another.

he feels a weak tug at his sweater.

“i’m cold now,” your complaint comes out mumbled against the thick fabric.

next thing he knows you’re pulling him down by his collar, leaving him with no choice but to lie down beside you as to not crush you under his weight. where the hell did you gather the strength to do that?!

he hisses in panic. “yah! what are you doing?”

“i’m cold,” you repeat.

“____, we’re lying down on the blanket. if you can just scoot over for a seco- i’ll take it out. move-”

his attempts on communicating to you only fall on deaf ears. he zips his mouth to admit defeat.

you cling to him for warmth, and jungkook finds himself giving more than that. he volunteers his arm to be your pillow, softly cupping the back of your head as you nuzzle your face on his chest; his other arm wraps around your torso to keep you close. it is quite a tight fit on a single bed— he figures out a lame excuse for later.

now he can say for certain that you’re hearing his heartbeat, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore. he also doesn’t mind the scent of alcohol because it’s tragically losing the battle against your sweet perfume. it renders him enchanted. and the dress… that hypnotizing dress. he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to banish the sinful thoughts flooding his imagination.

he didn’t peg you to be the physically affectionate type, but seeing that you can’t sleep without hugging something, someone— he wants to be just the thing that you cherish as your safe haven. he wants this memory to be cute… and romantic. but too much heavy on the romance, you affect his body and heart in ways no one can.

he tries to will his growing erection to ebb away. it’s not an appropriate situation. he likes and respects you too much.

“my makeup…”

you said it so quietly, he almost believed he was making it up in his head.

“what was that?”

“will you- please, will you help me take off my makeup? it’s bothering me.” you make one final request at the depths of drowsiness, speech slurred and stuttered. “the wipes… the drawer behind you.”

he should’ve thought of that. he’s learning. next time, he will.

he settles into his previous position after grabbing the wipes.

“how do i help? is it okay if i d-”

he interrupts his question when he realizes that you’ve finally fallen asleep.

his sigh momentarily fills the defeaning silence of the night. the exhaustion has also begun to take a toll on him. he’s going to have to catch up on sleep during car rides and set breaks. he’s already dreading it as he’s planning around their hectic schedule.

as he wipes off your makeup as carefully as possible, he mutters into the thin air. “you owe me a massage for this.”

—

IV. HAPPINESS OUTSIDE DAYDREAMS

“you’re my boyfriend now and you don’t sleep on the floor anymore. how cute is that?” you happily think out loud, swinging your feet dangling at the edge of the bed. “but if you want to go back to our old ways… my bed is small even for me.”

“no way. are you kidding?!” he jokingly protests in an angry manner. “your bed is perfect.”

jungkook is on cloud nine. it sure does feel good to hear you sound so happy calling him your boyfriend, even more so to reap its special privileges.

“i keep forgetting to ask. which side do you prefer?”

you’re sat facing the door. “i don’t know, but i’m used to sleeping here.”

“alright. i’ll stay here.” he climbs under the covers, spreading his arms once his back hits the mattress. the smirk on his face widens. “come here, baby.”

a grunt slips past his lips when you jump into his arms without warning, eventually falling over to the side when he moves to envelope you in his embrace.

“you’re so warm.” you purr in contentment as you bury your face against his chest. “i love cuddling so much.”

“i’ve noticed,” he replies. he softly squeezes your exposed thigh after you slump your leg over his hip to maximize your comfort. “your pillow must be softer than me though.”

“no, i like you more… cuddling is proven to have health benefits, you know?”

he quirks an eyebrow. “oh really? give me examples.”

“it releases happy chemicals in the brain… it apparently also helps to lower blood pressure and heart rate, and it-” you fail to stifle a sleepy yawn, hands grasping the cloth of his shirt and forming closed fists. “…improves one’s quality of sleep.”

“i can see it’s working well for you.” he chuckles.

“is it for you?”

“mhmm, yes,” he presses his lips to your forehead. “i’m happy. there’s only happy chemicals in my brain right now.”

jungkook means it wholeheartedly and it feels strange. he doesn’t feel happy in this moment alone. this happiness is colossal and there’s not nearly enough hours in a day to take it all in. this happiness will still be here when he wakes up tomorrow, and the day after that. this happiness stays with him even when you’re not physically present. you’ve turned him into an optimistic fool but it’s not always that he experiences an attraction this strong.

he’s smitten and he can’t hide it. the people who are around him everyday sees it on his face; he doesn’t even need to say it out loud. all that corny shenanigans about romance giving you a certain type of glow is apparently true, it turns out.

“kissing is said to have the same effects, actually.”

your coyness captivates him from his thoughts.

he draws back slightly, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirroring yours. “where do you learn these things?”

“through reading and experience.” you shrug innocently. “want to test that out too?”

you’re everywhere. he can taste your lips, your tongue; your body wash floods his sense of smell with a sweet and clean scent, plus something else he can’t quite name. he can only it describe as you. your hair is tangled in his fingers and your hands… so delicate and teasing with every touch, it feels like being electrified. it still feels incredibly chilly outside but heat is radiating off his skin. he needs to peel himself off you before he loses his last shred of self-control.

“baby…” he whispers, lips only a couple inches from yours. he takes your hand in a tender hold, placing it over his racing heartbeat. “i’m not sure about this one being good for my health.”

“but it is. you just burnt some calories.” you smile, wiping the sweat that has started to form on his forehead. “should we stop?”

he feels his cheeks become more flushed, but his craving for you has overtaken his shyness. he might as well be drunk; intoxicated by you.

“no.” he refuses, conflicted and almost pained. “i can’t…”

he gets rid of the distance between your lips once more, swallowing the first obscene moan he brings out of you.

—

V. THE SPRING FLOWER IN THE EYE OF THE STORM

although you know they held affection for you, the boys you’ve attracted in your life have made one thing clear: they see you as an object of desire, and you unintentionally play the part well. if you were going to make their wet dreams come true, then you ought to derive pleasure from it as well without shame.

but with jungkook, the tables have turned. you wore the same lipstick from last time to rile him up on purpose, but instead you’re the one stuck trying to recall a time you were this putty in somebody’s hands. you’re not in control— you expect this thought would make you spiral, but it doesn’t.

you stumble inside your apartment making out with your boyfriend and you have an orange azalea tucked behind your ear. his hand is in your mess of a hair and it protects your head from the impact of the wall as your back collides with it. you don’t know if it was on purpose or not but your heart flutters nonetheless. this is sickeningly romantic and you want to drown yourself in it.

“oh, feels good.” his mouth on your neck is addictive, you imagine it would be heavenly on more vulnerable parts of you. your nails harshly dig into his shoulder as he takes his time with every lick, every nip of his teeth— eager to learn more about your body and what makes it weak at the knees.

you tug at his hair with a whisper. “jungkook…”

“mhm? yes, baby?”

you thought you’ve seen and felt enough. you know about lust, but never felt a chemistry this electrifying. there’s an emotion screaming beneath the daze in jungkook’s eyes; it’s always been there, but not this loud. you think if you trust your gut and open yourself up… you might just come to gain an understanding of it.

you bite your bottom lip, behind it a shadow of a smile. “bedroom.”

his restless hands slide down to hook around your thighs, and not long after, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he navigates your apartment blinded by the mutual refusal of your lips to disconnect. you giggle every time he bumps into something and groans. with his fear of accidentally letting you fall felt through his tight grip, you’re the one who kicks the bedroom shut. the sound couldn’t have been louder than the pounding of your heart reaching your own ears.

jungkook is gentle as he lays you down on the bed, but your lack of inhibitions reign over you. you begin unbuttoning his shirt, unconsciously grinding your heat against his thigh as you do so. it catches him by surprise, but then his strong hands find purchase on your waist, and you know he wants this as much as you do.

the kiss is broken up by a moan when his grip falls to your hips, guiding your wild movements in chasing pleasure with a tenderness and sensuality that transforms you into a feverish mess. another gush of arousal ruins your underwear worse. you kiss him again and eventually you lose count of the buttons— patience runs thin and with adrenaline rushing through your veins, you tear his shirt apart.

he hisses. “baby, shit- what did y-”

“shhh,” you place an index finger over his lips.

he chuckles raspily, shaking his head in disbelief. your giggles join him, equally amused with yourself.

it’s still for a few seconds, but you can hear each other breathe in the dark. you’ve seen him naked but his silhouette alone stirs the fuel spreading throughout your body. he’s perfect. your lips reclaim the place of your finger. your hands caress every inch of his skin, every curve of his flesh they can reach. he doesn’t make an effort to hold his noises and it turns you on more, if that is even possible at this point. his muscles continue to tense under your touches, even worse when you find his nipples to tease and play with. he’s perfect.

“it’s my turn.” he tries to say in the middle of the kiss, but you don’t hear a thing until he’s pulling away breathless and you’re whining in disappointment. “let me return the flavor please? i’ve been going crazy thinking about it. fuck, please.”

you sit up on the bed, pushing his naked chest challengingly. “what? you want to eat me out?“

he swallows, wide scandalized eyes failing to escape your keen observation. “i do.”

you watch him watch you strip off your sweater, “really…?” and then unclasp your bra, allowing its straps to provocatively slide down your shoulders.

“ye-yes, really.”

“then what’s stopping you?”

he whines out your name, interrupting himself with his craving for another kiss as he slips off your bra completely. it gets lost on the floor along with your sweater and you smirk deviously against his lips. “you’re testing me like this, huh? you’re so mean.”

you lie on your bed but you feel like you’re on top of the world. jungkook scatters kisses from your neck down to your chest, occasionally licking and biting as if he can’t help but to taste you. he uncovers another ticklish spot along your ribcage, but you bite your lip to control your giggles. instead, you touch his face to subtly guide him away from it.

he nuzzles his cheek against your palm, eyelids fluttering close as he presses a soft kiss to your wrist.

“may i?”

the shape of his lips lingers there. no one has ever kissed your wrist, nor have you ever imagined the first time to take place in bed.

your thumb strokes his cheek tenderly. the silence that follows there after concerns jungkook. he calls out your name, snapping you out of deep thought.

“may i?” he repeats himself.

he is patiently suspended over the waistband of your skirt. ever the gentleman, you half-smile.

“will you fuck me good after?”

the hand on his face sneaks down to pull up the skirt over your stomach; an even tinier piece of fabric covers the most intimate part of your body.

“whatever you want, baby, i will do it.” he promises.

you can hear the smirk in his voice, but you’re unable to form another response as his tongue laves over the lace, the warmth and wetness saturating through and stimulating your clit— once, slowly, and then over and over again.

you gasp, jolting and squirming in pleasure. he only makes it worse when he hums and you feel the vibration against you. you whine and he squeezes the soft flesh of your inner thighs in an attempt soothe you, keep you still, nuzzling his cheek as he meets your heated gaze.

“relax… is my baby always this sensitive?” he places a chaste kiss over your clit, causing your breath to hitch. “‘cause i’ve barely started.”

“jungkook,” you impatiently whine. “why’d you stop? just do it, please- need you.”

you’d wipe off that stupid smirk on his face if only you weren’t so pent up and you didn’t need his tongue.

“wow… didn’t think you’re the type to beg.” he muses, more so talking to himself. “i like it.”

hell no, you’re not.

but finally, he dives in, greedily pulling aside the flimsy material for a real taste of you. instead of a sharp remark, erotic sounds between a moan and a sob emit from your lips. your toes curl at the surge of mind-numbing ecstasy overwhelming your body. your hands fisting the sheets fly to his hair, frantically tugging like you can’t take it, but you beg and beg and beg him for more.

—

the last time you had sex was more than four months ago. you realized that you liked jungkook, and you simply didn’t want to do it with anybody else. sexual frustration combined with the romantic pining for a man that could potentially ruin your life; your youth has been nothing short of eventful.

has sex always been this good? you can’t remember. you’re drunk on pleasure even in the aftermath; you’re not sure if you’re really here or floating someplace else. as you catch your breath, jungkook soothes your body with gentle kisses and strokes of your skin, whispering sweet nothings. mostly babbling about how beautiful you are. and you feel it— feel beautiful, you mean.

you gradually open your eyes, vision adjusting to the divine view infront of you. jungkook is golden, skin still glistening with sweat under the warm glow of the lampshade. your heart skips a beat when he smiles at you.

“are you good? do you need anything? water?”

“again.”

his eyes widens. “again?“

“round two.” you giggle.

you push yourself up to reach his lips, but the kiss ends too soon for your liking.

“jungkook-” you complain.

“wait!”

you stare in bewilderment as he bends down from the edge of bed, appearing to be reaching for one of the objects discarded on the floor.

“what is it?”

“i found it!”

it’s the flower.

beaming with a hue of pure excitement, he tucks the azalea behind your ear for the second time tonight. pretty, he says it so quietly that you only understand through the movement of his lips.

he looks bewitched by you. in a different setting you’d be smug about it, but at this moment, you don’t understand. you can’t read what’s on his mind. if only you could see yourself through his eyes, even for just a moment, then maybe you’d understand why he’s dancing with fire and folding with his tower of cards.

it would be too silly and embarrassing to start crying now, right?

you swallow the lump in your throat, glassy eyes overshadowed by your boyfriend leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead. as if that isn’t enough to entirely melt your heart, he intertwines his fingers with yours. your walls come crumbling down. in a haste to forbid your emotions from breaking free, you reach for him and slip your tongue in his mouth for a fervent kiss.

the burning tears that drip down to your temples are lost evidence you will bring to the grave.

—

“you’re not supposed to be awake.” jungkook complains as soon as he opens the door.

you only spare him a glance before returning to your task. instead of being under the sheets, you’re sat on the floor with his button-up shirt from last night laid across your lap. only several steps closer and he realizes that you’re sewing.

he exhales through his mouth in surprise, setting aside the tray of food on the bed before joining you on the floor.

“baby, what are you doing?! it’s fine. you don’t need to fix it.”

“i know, but i want to.” you reply, smiling, eyes still swollen from sleep focused on the needle and thread. “i stepped on one of the buttons so i looked for the two other.”

he’s dumbfounded watching you sew with so much care and precision. oh my god, he is in love with you. he thinks it so loud he gets terrified that he might’ve ended up speaking it out loud too.

“at least eat first!”

“wow, where did you buy ingredients so early?”

“early?” he scratches his head. “it’s lunch time.”

“what?!” your eyes grow twice their size. “jungkook, i’m late for work! what didn’t you wake me up?!”

“you- you we- you were tired!” he stutters defending himself.

he awkwardly catches his shirt when you throw it aside in a rush to get to the bathroom.

“baby, what about your food?!” he yells.

“wait, i forgot my towel-” you pop out from the doorframe, beaming at him breathlessly. “oh, please pack the food in my lunchbox!”

—

VI. SPEAKING TRUTHFULLY, YOU’RE THE ONE FOR ME

“i missed you.”

you giggle. “you look drunk.”

you hold jungkook’s cheeks in the palm of your hands, and he revels in the comforting warmth radiating from them.

he closes his eyes with a toothy grin. “i’m exhausted.”

“then go to sleep!”

“i don’t want to!”

he opens one eye, peeking at you.

“i came here so you won’t have to tire yourself out more going to my place.” you pout. “why do you hate resting?”

“this is me resting,” he says as a matter of fact, leaning down to give your lips a peck. “you are my rest.”

while it may be true that his body is begging for sleep, his mind is willing him to stay awake for as long as he can. he likes that he has nothing to prove here; he can simply be. you’re softly tracing his skin, forming constellations from the moles on his face, and he knows they’re created out of pure wonder and love.

“this one’s so cute!” you gush. “nobody talks about it enough.”

you place an affectionate kiss on the mole at the bridge of his nose.

“maybe because nobody has noticed it but you.”

you roll your eyes. “as if i’m the only one who spends their free time looking at your face.”

“but you’re the one who can view me in the highest quality.” he brings his face a little closer to tease you; noses almost brushing. “no one else can have me this close.”

“that’s right. or else you will never have me this close again.”

you squint your eyes at him as a threat; a frown making a permanent residence on your lips. fuck, when is he not thinking about kissing you?

“aigoo, look at you sulking!” he exclaims with a laugh.

“i’m not!”

“okay, whatever you say.” he replies in a sing-song voice.

it’s silent for a few beats as he engulfs you in his embrace. he feels like he’s being recharged, and with that comes along the overdue acknowledgement of his exhaustion. he meant it when he said that you are his rest.

“you know, i can’t help but to wonder sometimes.”

there is an undertone of hesitance in the way you spoke which is not typical of you. this prompts him to draw back a little, just enough to get a good look of your face.

“wonder about?”

“i’m not trying to put myself down or anything like that, by the way. i’m not expecting you to say the right thing or whatever either. i’m just-”

you pause, teeth nervously biting your lip. his heart aches in an instant when you avoid his eyes.

“i’m just genuinely curious? and saying what’s on my mind.”

“what is it?” he juts out his bottom lip. “you’re scaring me.”

“it’s not a big deal!”

“go on then. i’m listening.”

“i mean, i know i’m a catch, and- and i have a lot to offer, and i’m special in my own way. but you have a lot of…” you blink, trying to find the right term. “options.”

the word alone causes distaste to morph in his facial expression.

“okay, okay, i know! ugh, i don’t know how else to say it. but you have these beautiful and amazing people throwing themselves at you and sometimes i’m flabbergasted that you actively reject them for me.”

“baby, what are you even saying-”

“i’m serious. there are girls i would’ve totally gone for!”

“but they’re not you!”

he tilts your chin, smiling when at last, he recaptures your wide-eyed gaze.

“it’s really as simple as that.”

“but when we weren’t official yet-”

“i liked you from the start, if i didn’t make that obvious enough.”

you scrunch your cute nose; a smile of pure giddiness starting to form on your face. “you did… i knew.”

“i can’t believe you’re thinking about things like that. i only have eyes for you, baby. do you remember the first fight we had, huh? remember how i got drunk and cried?”

he doesn’t particularly like to relive the trauma and consequences of receiving unsolicited… almost naked… photos of an acquaintance while he’s watching a silly youtube video on his phone with his significant other. anything can be fixed in a relationship if both parties exert the effort, but trust, it is almost impossible to rebuild.

she didn’t know he was, is, in a relationship. in general, no one outside his inner circle really expects him to be in a relationship, or at least be in one that is serious or long-term. because, well, where would he find the time and energy for that kind of stuff?

but keeping you as a secret was his way of protecting you, and if you were hurting because of that, you didn’t show it.

oh, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t mad.

you needed some time to clear your head, you said. ignored his texts and phone calls; shooed him away when he begged at your front door. that issue may already been resolved, but he’s still not done proving that he’s solely committed to you.

you’re one of the most important people in his life. he loves you and he tends to get worried that you will never know much.

you gasp, hitting his chest. “when did that happen?!”

“why are you shocked…?” he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t know?”

“how would i know?”

he scratches his head in confusion. he should probably stop talking at this point and not dig his own grave, but his honesty leads him on. “…didn’t taehyungie-hyung send you a video? or did i make that up in my head?”

he immediately regrets it when the sparkle of mischief appears in your eyes.

“he’s still awake, right?”

“actually, he sleeps early nowadays!”

you wiggle out of his embrace, playfully sticking out your tongue at him. “i’ll go get the copy from him right now.”

“it was so long ago. it’s probably deleted by now!”

“wouldn’t hurt to check.”

“baby, no! it’s embarrassing!” he attempts to pull you back, but his hands barely reach you. “let’s just go to sleep, hm? didn’t you come here to put me to sleep?”

“aw, my love…”

he melts when you gingerly stroke his hair too. he will never live it down if his friends witnessed you babying him and him loving it.

“just close your eyes.”

and with your hand obstructing his vision, he sees pitch black and floating spots and flecks.

“i’ll be back in a minute! mwah!”

but despite his sense of sight being taken away, he still feels you spring off the mattress. the weight of your feet against the floor resonates along with the shout of your name as he follows you out of his bedroom.

you squeal in panic when you realize that you’re being chased. “go back to bed!”

“i won’t unless you go back with me!”

this is one of the instances in which jungkook is grateful for his gifts of athletic prowess and long limbs.

with little to no effort, he overtakes you in the race towards taehyung’s bedroom. doe eyes akin to a deer caught in the headlights, he swings the door open.

taehyung’s eyes flicker up from his phone. he’s frankly not surprised about the intrusion, not after hearing the commotion outside.

“need anything?”

“all the videos you have of him drunk!”

“hyung, no! you can’t give it!”

—

VII. THE CHOICE TO STAY

“give it to me.”

the blanket that jungkook carried from the bedroom is snatched away from his hands. it becomes unfurled and thrown over to shield your shivering vessel from the cold. without a word, he crawls on the couch and under the blanket, hugging you from behind as you catch up on your ongoing tv shows.

relief… he’s been looking forward to this all day.

the tension in his muscles, from head to toe, begin to fade away, especially as you take his hand in yours so you can give it a chaste kiss. it’s quick, but long enough for him to feel the softness of your lips. his hug tightens. he remains silent as he inhales, and exhales, slow and calm. he’s not trying to fall asleep as much as trying to shut down his brain. they say the world has stopped but from his point of view, it has erupted into chaos and he has no other choice but to watch it fall apart and to attempt to rebuild it at the same time. god knows he is doing the best he can but it feels like his best will never not be lacking.

jungkook is scared, and he is more scared knowing that everyone else is too. but for the past two years, whether you’re whole or broken, whether he’s climbing or falling— it never made a difference. you’ve always stayed.

he finds comfort in knowing that he has this constant among the ominous unknown.

his little firefly; your light won’t go out even as the world lets out its final sigh.

“my love, why are you sad?”

you flipped to your other side when another commercial break rolled in; now you’re hovering over him, curious eyes studying every inch of his face.

“is my love hurt anywhere?” you coo. “where should i kiss?”

his body shakes with quiet laughter as you pepper his face with kisses, trailing down to his jaw until you reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“or do you want a massage? here? know you had a looong day.”

“really? how’d you know?”

“yeah, ‘cause you haven’t showered. you’re all stinky.”

“oh, am i?” he playfully pinches your waist, which you react to with a drawn out whine. “and yet you’re still cuddling with me.”

“so? do you need my massage therapy services or not?!”

“no. i only need my lover, please.” he pleads with droopy eyelids, emphasizing his request by tangling his limbs with yours.

he can’t hide from you like he hides from himself. you’re much more gentler with his heart than he is; unconciously, he trusts you more with it.

“you have me. what’s wrong?”

your hands anchored on the sofa are swept away as he pulls you closer, your weight crashing down on him entirely. he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your natural scent and the lavender in your body wash.

“eh, it’s just work… everything that could go wrong is going wrong. we’re trying to figure things out, but what can we do really…? there’s nothing. i- this-this whole thing is just so fucking frustrating, baby. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not just work! it’s your reason for living. of course this is frustrating and painful for you. it’s understandable to feel that way.”

he can practically hear you pouting. he is proven right when you lift your head, leaning in to give him a kiss. he smiles against your lips. he loves you so much.

“so please don’t burn yourself out trying to be okay. you have me by your side who can help you carry your burdens.”

it was scary at the beginning, but now it only feels right. it is impossible not to love you with all of his heart and soul; you deserve nothing less and more than what he can give. when you hug him, he hugs you back tighter.

“you’re my reason to live too.”

“i shouldn’t be. what if i die before you?”

“yah, don’t says things like that!” he scolds you faster than he can think, eyebrows knitted together and frown a tad deeper. “you won’t. it won’t happen.”

“i will die eventually.” you grimace.

“please don’t say such things as ‘i want you to move on and meet someone else and fall in love again and remarry.’ i don’t want to hear it!” he rambles so fast that he doesn’t even understand himself, stumbling and lisping. “i will seriously cry!”

“oh, i don’t care for things like that.”

you make yourself more comfortable; your boyfriend as your own personal bed. sleeping on top of him has been a natural occurence these days, not that he minds. you’re so soft and warm. it’s like hugging a stuffed toy to sleep. still, he’s mindful of you falling off the couch again.

“do whatever you like.” your eyes meet as you bestow him with a smile. “i’ll be dead; i won’t even know what happens next.”

“you don’t care? huh…” he huffs over the hypothetical.

the mere consideration of it feels like cheating. he knows that it technically isn’t, but he can’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone who isn’t you. nevertheless, if he was being honest and it was the other way around, he’d probably do tell you to leave your heart open. but the topic is not the other way around and jungkook’s heart is stubbornly bound to you.

“why am i getting upset?”

“i don’t care because i’m confident.” you say candidly. “you can fall in love with someone else, but no one will ever love you the way that i do.”

ah, and here comes a side of you that he knows and loves. he swears that cupid is in the room and his heart was just hit by another one of his arrows. it feels so good to be loved so fearlessly.

“i know, so why even bother?” he arrives at a conclusion to his defense, but there’s a much better solution. “please never ever leave me so i won’t have to deal with this dilemma.”

he catches you roll your eyes before he comes face-to-face with the back of your head. your cheek rests on top of his chest; he feels it above his beating heart.

“what then? are we supposed to die together?”

he hums in thought. “it’s not a totally bad idea. we live together, so wouldn’t that make sense too?”

“wow, very shakespearean of you.”

“oh, that’s right! see? isn’t this your type of thing? let’s do it!”

“oh my god, you’re so stupid.” you hide your face behind your hand, giggling in disbelief of the sharp turn this conversation took.

jungkook loves making you laugh. for a little while, he forgets everything else. the world outside may be terrifying but you have your own in your shared apartment. you’re his reason to live too. you ignite the life in his veins. you kiss him with an appetite for passion and love and he enters heaven on earth.

“thank you.” you mumble against his lips.

“thank you?”

“for loving me, for living with me…” your voice wavers and his heart drops to his stomach. he can hold back his tears, but never when he sees yours flowing. “even when you’re tired and having a hard time.”

“you make it sound like a chore, but the truth is loving you gives me the strength to work hard everyday. you do know that, right? baby?” he strokes your hair tenderly, hoping that you receive his sincerity. “i should be the one thanking you… i should say it more often. you didn’t give up on loving me even when it was hurting you.”

“it’s all in the past… you were hurting too.” you reply in a faint whisper. “i love you.”

cupid must owe him a tremendous favor to have granted him the purest form of love a human being could have.

he plants a kiss on your forehead, noticing the rise of your shoulders. an endearing thing they occasionally do when you’re happy, shy, or flattered. it’s one of the many things he learned about you since you started living under the same roof.

he’s been learning about himself too. he tried saving you from himself but this fact is now well-established— you are the sun; it only hurts him to push you away because you’re in everything. it’s the little things that will haunt him if lost. when pieced together, they declare that you love him and he loves you.

the words i’m going home have gained more meaning and he’s excited to say them at the end of each day. he talks about his day and you talk about yours. you find out he’s the reason your lotion ran out too fast again and you chase him around the apartment until he promises to buy you the biggest bottle. you play rock-paper-scissors to figure out who will wash the dishes or receive the food from the delivery guy. you watch too many cooking videos on his phone until one of you falls asleep. most of the time it’s you. tonight, it’s still you.

he must confess that up to this day, he admires you when you sleep. you are safe and sound, and he is mended in places he did not know existed.

it’s time to sleep, he also decides.

he cocoons you in the blanket, then provides another layer of warmth which is his body. once settled, he closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. “what’s the use of our giant bed if we keep on sleeping on the couch?”

—

(?). AN ETERNAL RECORD: MY TREASURE, MY LOVE (ARCHIVED)

[DEC 25 ‘17 02:12AM]

“is it rolling?”

“yes, it’s rolling.”

you excitedly look at the film camera from the thick pile of snow on the ground, moving your arms up and down and your legs from side to side. an attempt to create a snow angel.

your giggles and the crackles of the snow are heard through the speaker.

the lens zoom in on your face.

childlike joy in the form of an everlasting smile and snowflakes on your hair.

“am i doing it?!”

“you are!”

“really?”

“really!”

“is it pretty?”

your face comes out of the frame. for a second only the white snow is seen, and then the dark brown of your coat as you skip towards the camera.

“let me watch!”

the camera shakes before it pans to the ground.

rustling of clothes and a shy, panicked voice.

“hold on- i-i’ll just fix the…”

“why?”

“huh, what do i do?” a forced laugh to mask nervousness. “i think it didn’t save-”

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts reaction

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a-aexotic · 1 year

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HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!

Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)

And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣

Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x

hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes

cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything

You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.

When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.

During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.

But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.

When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.

You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.

You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.

Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.

He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.

He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.

He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.

He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.

During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.

Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.

The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.

You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.

You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.

Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.

You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.

When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.

When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."

The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."

Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.

You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.

The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.

As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.

You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.

Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.

"I have a plan."

"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."

Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."

You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."

Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.

"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."

It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.

You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.

Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.

You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?

You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.

You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?

"Hello, Y/N."

You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.

He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."

You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.

"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."

You shook your head. "No."

He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"

"No." You said again, louder.

He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."

He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.

If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.

They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.

"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."

You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.

"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"

Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.

Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.

You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.

It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.

You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.

But you knew that was just the beginning.

You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.

"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.

A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.

"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."

You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.

He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.

As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.

That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."

You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.

There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.

"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.

"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.

"Are you.. Are you really here?"

"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.

His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."

You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.

Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.

Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.

You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.

When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.

You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.

"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."

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fueledbysano · 1 year

Text

𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒~!

how they deal with an ovulating and very horny wife.

♱ c/w: MATURED. MDNI. afab!reader, mentions of periods and pregnancy, breeding, creampies, fingering, praising, baby trapping, overstimulation, fluff/smut.

♱ ft. kazutora, mikey, hanma, sanzu, ran.

♱ a/n: the most evil horny of them all. also, happy 4k! thank you so much for all the love in my fics. also, I may have a different writing style with hanma because it was intended for a different fic with a more romantic tone. but I decided it worked just fine for this one too.

♡ tags; @manilamikeyswifey @blueparadis @tokyometronetwork

reblogs appreciated!

♡ Kazutora

As soon as he woke up, Kazutora already felt how slightly warmer you felt in his arms, almost as if you had a fever. That morning, you were in a particularly good mood as well, especially with your husband clinging to you. He gave you a moment to absorb his gaze before softly grinning. Good morning, baby girl…”

Before you could say anything, Kazutora's lips touched yours as his fingertips lifted your chin up. He waited motionlessly for your approval, which you offered by gently pressing your lips against his. You were unable to resist as your kiss got more intense. You felt a surge of lust that fueled the kiss and drew his body close to yours. After what seemed like a flash, you separated from one another.

“Want to stay~?” You asked him, never letting your gaze leave his so he could make no mistake as to what it is that you wanted. Knowing what was going on, Kazutora cleared his throat. Before you went to sleep last night, he observed you check your period tracker app. He remembered that you had noted that today had a blue mark on the calendar, signifying that you are ovulating and most fertile.

You mumbled quietly into his palm, locking eyes with him as you gently rubbed your nose against his. "Honey, please," you begged. You were certain that the lust was becoming stronger as he continued to stay silent, merely his gentle breath touching your neck.

Kazutora's long hair tickled your cleavage while he bit little patches of your skin in the crook of your neck; your heavy breaths and noises getting him bricked up in an instant. He lifted the band shirt you borrowed from him before trailing his hands down your chest, and lingering them above your thin panties.

“I love how pretty your pussy looks…” His mouth almost watered at the wet print on your panties before he pulled them off in one swift movement. “It’s like a flower~” He praised before keeping hot eye contact with you the whole time he lifted your leg up his shoulder lustfully. Soon enough, he attacked the inside of your thighs with hungry kisses. As if you couldn't have been doing it enough, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched in pleasure.

Your hands reached to clench his streaks as you felt Kazutora's lips lap at your sensitive core, and you could feel his lips smiling at your breathy moans of his name. He would shift between quick tongue flicks, languid licks, and sporadic light clitsucking.Kazutora easily inserted a finger into your wetness and curled up with it. Your head dipped back when he slipped a second finger and made the same movement.

Soon enough, Kazutora's cock was straining so hard in his boxers that it itches for a relief inside of your walls. So he reached for the side drawer for the box of condoms you always kept there. However, before he could grasp the wooden knob, you quickly reacted and grabbed hold of his wrist. “It’s okay…” You assured with a soft smile. Kazutora questioned as if you weren't fine with it; he'd rather end the situation before something serious occurs. “Yes, my love.” You exhaled, placing your hands on his shoulders.

Kazutora felt his stomach turn at this confession. All the thoughts he had about getting you pregnant and starting a family with you was at its breaking point, especially now that you had said yes to him. “D’you want me to give you a baby, pretty girl?” He makes sure once more and yet again, you agreed.

“I’ll give you as many as you want…” Kazutora sat you on his thighs in a cradle before rocking upwards to you, placing your arms on his chest as a brace. You raised your hips and felt his length slip out before lowering your cunt on it abruptly.

Pleasure was making you slightly dizzy on top of him, but you made an effort to maintain your eyes on Kazutora at all times. By this point, your hips were colliding with each other with each thrust, evoking gasping groans from both of you as you watched your bodies connect.

“I’m not going to last any longer…” Kazutora admitted, feeling the pre cum from his tip coat your cervix. “That’s okay, I’m close yoo.” You insisted. You felt a little jolt as he abruptly shoved his hips upward. You gasped in shock before giving him a seductive glance.

It was excessive. Your orgasm overcame your senses and knocked the air out of your throat as it descended. Despite wanting to see Kazutora’s vulnerable expression, your eyes screw shut at the sensation of clamping your walls around his dick. The pleasure shook throughout your body.

Your husband was keeping an eye on you, and seeing you at your climax was all it took to push him over the edge. He finally lost it due to your grip, releasing all of his pent-up seed. It was so enthralling that he didn't want the moment to finish.

“You’re so amazing, my darling.” Kazutora praised as he laid your fragile body on the sheets.

♡ Mikey

Emma and Draken had just left your home after collecting their infant, who had been under you and his uncle Mikey's care for the entire morning and afternoon. If it wasn't for Draken who restrained him while Emma took the baby back, Mikey wouldn't have wanted to let go of the little bundle of joy.

“[ Y / N ], just give Manjiro a baby already.” Emma remarks in jest before Draken bids goodbye and closes the door behind them, leaving a very flustered Mikey behind. You chuckled at your husband's reaction before pressing a delicate kiss on his forehead, “Go get cleaned, honey. I'll make the bed.” He hummed affectingly, closing his eyes in alleviation before murmuring into your ear, “Love you so much~”

If his scratchy voice didn't already drive you crazy, your heart sure did skip when Mikey's hands found their way to your hips, slipping under your shirt and onto your skin before tracing delicate circles. You froze. You balled the collar of his shirt, closed your eyes, and pressed your cheek to his hair before gasping out. Mikey made a gesture that typically you found sweet, but tonight, it switched something inside you. He secretly blushed from the sound you made before withdrawing from your embrace and then doing his business upstairs.

The entire time you prepared for bed, you couldn't resist the thoughts of having your husband touch and fondle you in such sensual ways; It's nothing out of the ordinary to lust for your husband, yet tonight, you felt more drawn to him than usual. it's like... hold on.

Glancing at the calendar, you realize that it has been two weeks since your period. of course, you are ovulating. Explains the baby fever you felt too while watching you and Mikey's nephew. While it is a guaranteed card to get laid, the intense lust almost aches; the only thing plaguing your mind is having Mikey touch all over your body as he pumped your pussy full of his cum.

“Good night, my darling wife.” From underneath the covers and your shirt, Mikey’s hand cups your breast and starts to massage it gently, twisting and pulling at your nipple. His other hand was caressing your legs, and his fingers tickled as they softly moved up your inner thighs. You were enjoying his touches so much you didn’t realize the pooling mess in between your legs that began to soak through your panties. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” Mikey muttered and toyed with your clit slowly before pressing soft kisses on your neck.

Your heart is aching from eagerness, melting, and ready to breach from your chest at any moment. Fortunately, Mikey also got impatient and tugged your panties aside, making you feel his erect shaft, which had been straining in his pants ever since he spotted you splayed on your marital bed. “Good girl,” He praises, sinking into you again and again.

Normally, Mikey would whimper and grunt into your ear during sex. But tonight, feeling how significantly aroused and tight you are, Mikey didn't bother to strain the pornographic moans in his throat as he drove into your puffy g-spot.

Your hands flew up in an instant, encasing his face in your palms. He was ready to pause and kiss you, until you muttered something that had him reeling. “Knock me up, honey.” Although his head hadn't yet absorbed the words, his body had, and the words had come as a surprise to him. He came abruptly and forcefully, his head falling to nuzzle your neck as a heavy grunt erupted from his chest. Mikey’s orgasm had brought you to yours as he rode it out in shallow thrusts.

Mikey rolled off you to lay down at your side; your legs entwined as he was still inside you. “I love you….” he muttered lovingly.

To be connected with him in the most intimate ways was always so enchanting. You two stayed like that, just snuggling as you caught your breath, knowing that whatever happened in the future because of tonight, you two would do it together with love.

♡ Hanma

Hanma took you into a romantic weekend getaway at a cabin house. The day of birdwatching and camping was long over and when the navy blue took over the cerulean blue sky.

Upon arriving in your cabin, you two settled down on the settee positioned by the warm fireplace, the sound of burning wood and the scent of pine trees completed the atmosphere. You notice that his eyes have the same sparkle that you admired when you first met him after exchanging a lingering stare with him.

Hanma's pulse was hammering as he leaned forward to take in the view, his heart pounding at how stunning you looked with the continuous stream of sunlight streaming into the cabin room. He leaned in close enough that the points of your cupid's bows touched for another fiery kiss.

As you closed the distance between you and him, your hold on his jaw loosened. You pressed your lips against his, eyes peering up at his, as if checking to see if he was still down with it.Your lips brushed across his tenderly before you firmly planted them there. His brows knitted together and eyes remained open until your hand reached up to cradle the soft patch of locks at the back of his head and your tongue flicked at his lower lip.

Instead of touching you, he lets you touch him, allowing you to find your own degree of comfort. Both yours and Hanma's coats slid down your back, falling off your shoulders. You started unbuckling your belt straps as you stared down at him. As you reached the buttons on your blouse, the leather dropped about your waist. As you unfastened the buttons one by one, he attentively watched you, his eyes memorizing every piece of exposed skin. Even though you've done it countless times already before, seeing you undress just for him did something to him that he couldn't put into words. It was an image that would stay with him for the rest of his life.

“You're finally off your period, baby?” Hanma remarked as your lips pressed together again, hot and heavy. He last initiated to be intimate with you while you were in the middle of your period, but you gently rejected. So he has been waiting ever since.

He was speechless as to what you were doing to him. He felt weightless, like if he were soaring through the air, rising higher with each kiss and amount of contact between your hips. “Yes…”

Before slowly moving his hands over your exposed abdomen, he waited until you were stripped down to your cotton bra. As he played at the cloth beneath your breasts, his eyes followed you, looking for permission to push his fingers past it. As his hands excitedly stroked and kneaded the skin of your exposed breasts, you tugged the garment up and over your head completely, flinging it aside and leaning over him.

He bit back a low grunt as your hand cupped his bulge, stopping his hips from arching into the warmth of your palm. He did as he was told and unbuckled his belt. As he drew out his erection through his pants, his warm stare didn't flinch away from yours. He didn't consider himself a nervous person, but something about being completely at your mercy was too much for him to stand.

His hands reached down to your thighs and circled your pelvis, just above your core, tickling the sensitive area there. You groaned in agony, your legs swaying in anticipation. He indulged you because he sensed your impatience. As the touch of his rough fingers ran across your sensitive bud, his eyes narrowed and a cry dropped from your eager lips. Then he rested his finger there, leaning in close to you and curling the digit against it again and over, causing your lips to open, body tensing, and stars flashing in your eyes.

"You like that?" He said in a low, sultry tone, eyes locked hard on your dazed expression. Of course he knew you loved that.

"That's my good girl. Feel good?" You nod, out of breath and dizzy. He grinds himself up against you and brushes his member up and down your wet folds, enclosing you in his embrace. Your body jerks, his smooth cock sliding against your excessively sensitive bud, eliciting a small sequence of aftershocks that lead him to tut and smile smugly. Then he pushes himself halfway into you and waits a moment for you to open up for him. Slowly, his hips pull back, almost entirely separating him from you before plunging in further deeper. He goes through the motions once more, sliding out only to sink back in with ease all the way to the hilt.

A string of curses fall from his lips as your hips grind against him haphazardly, too thrown by the cusp of your orgasm to be able to match his rhythmic thrusts. As the coil finally snaps you clamp down hard on his cock, a loud moan tearing out from you as you cum wholly wrapped up in him. For a moment his hips still, letting you fuck yourself through your orgasm before he still for a moment, head thrown back and words slipping out quickly, "Where do you want it?"

"I-In me." Your breathy moans of his name were enough to make him shoot his release, pouring it deep inside you just as you wanted as he reached his climax.

You collapsed on top of your husband, his member still deep inside you while the two of you caught your breaths, bodies fitting together like a puzzle.

You two stayed like this for a moment, letting yourselves peacefully bask into each other's embrace intimately by the fire and reminiscing what may be the start of the final days of being "just you two".

♡ Sanzu

Your heart was beating impossibly fast as your back slammed against the door of your bedroom, Sanzu reaching blindly to open it before he had his hands on yours once again. You were thrilled that your husband was just as needy as you are, after all, you were the one who first dragged him out of Bonten's afterparty at the club directly below your penthouse.

Your knees struck the edge of the mattresses as Sanzu pushed you into the bed. The metal bands on his fingers sent goosebumps on your skin as his fingers trailed down your back to unzip your dress. Sanzu broke the kiss to allow himself to soak in the sight of your body, concealed only in your panties.

You responded by reaching up to seize his undone tie, luring him into another lustful kiss while you took turns removing his clothing.

“I don’t have a condom.” Sanzu bit his lip after the lie, waiting for your response. He had been thinking about hitting it raw for several days now and he just couldn't wait any longer.

“It’s okay…” You insist, murmuring against his lips with a smirk. “I want this…” Your whisper is followed by a soft gasp when Sanzu pushes you to the bed. He groaned at the feeling of your soft breast pushing against his, as he pulled your panties off.

You reached your hands to cup his face in your hands, leaning up to press a hungry kiss to his lips. And that was when Sanzu pushed himself inside you. Your moans were synced, both consumed by the pent-up tension you two have been holding onto.

He precisely filled you up, pressing into every little crevice and nerve as he thrust. Your legs lifted up to his shoulders, the new angle allowing Sanzu's tip to nudge against your cervix. He let out a vulnerable moan, his hands fisting the mattresses tighter with every blow.

You moaned his name loudly, hands reaching above your head to brace yourself on the cushioned headboard.

Sanzu pressed a thumb on your clit in response, leaving open-mouthed kisses over your leg as he kept a steady pace.

“I’ll make you a daddy~” You flashed him a mischievous grin as your legs fell to wrap around his waist, locking his member pistoning inside you. Moans echoed through the room louder than you initially planned to, but Sanzu loved it.

Sanzu's body felt like it was on fire when the nickname escaped your lips. “You’ll make a pretty mommy.” He moaned in between thrusts, one hand gripping the headboard behind you for better traction.

“Let's cum together, sweetheart.” That was all you needed before you were pushed over the edge into an earth-shattering orgasm. Your nails sank onto Sanzu's shoulders, clinging onto him as he rode out your orgasm.

“So perfect, baby…” Your husband's moans were rough and low, choking on a grunt as he pushed his cum deep inside you.

♡ Ran

Even though you have only been at work for four hours, you are already regretting leaving your husband in bed, wishing nothing but to be in his arms right now. You weren't usually clingy to Ran, in fact, it was the other way around. However, today you felt a stronger yearning toward him than usual.

“What’re you thinking about, miss?” Her assistant jokes.

You shook it off, realizing you had been zoning out yet again. You’ve been thinking about so many things about Ran, but there’s no way you could tell her that.

“Nothing, just a little sleepy.” Yes, sleepy is the way to put it… “I’d be glad to take over for you, ma’am.” She insisted. “Are you sure? Alright, thank you so much. Ring me up if you need anything.” You smiled at your assistant before handing her the papers, waving on the way out.

1PM. Ran is usually in his own office at the Bonten HQ around this time. You cannot wait to go home to him tonight and you wanted to be sure that he'd feel the same way, thinking about nothing but hving you for the rest of his work.

So, on the spur of the moment, you scrolled through your personal "intimate" photo album, specifically selecting one in which you wore a set of black lace lingerie that Ran had purchased for you.

sent 3 images

miss you, honey ♡

You were pretty proud of your text, knowing that Ran might get in trouble once he opens it while at work.

However, as minutes pass, you start to wonder what he may be up to this time. You could only hope that it was a good time to send that text, or maybe he may really get in trouble for causing him such distraction.

“[ Y / N ]-sama, a package for you at the door.” Your assistant says over the intercom. You took a breath and placed your hand at the door. You didn’t even get the chance to look up before you heard an unmistakable voice clear their throat.

“Where’s my hello, darling?” You immediately blushed, your eyes hesitantly looking up to meet the source of the voice. And there was your husband, clad in all black. A few strands of his lilac hair hovered over his eyes as he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed together.

“Baby,” You breathed. Ran uncrossed his arms and locked you in his embrace. “You called for me, angel?” A slight rasp in his voice as he whispered drove you crazy.

“Ran...” You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and brought your lips up to meet him in a fiery kiss. He smiled against your lips, gladly obliging to your request as your lips spoke for the pent up desire you held for each other.

Your breaths picked up, as did your heart rates as Ran’s grip on your waist grew tighter, wanting more. Suddenly, his hands effortlessly hoisted you onto your desk. He knocked off a few things to make room for you on the surface.

As Ran’s fingers crept higher up your skirt, your legs spread wider to make space for his petite waist. Ran held you flush against his body, one hand roaming your back as you held each other close. “My naughty wife needs me…” He whispered, undoing his pants before bringing himself closer to you as he set your panties aside.

The tip of his shaft brushed your clit. You moved his member along your folds, thoroughly soaking the tip. Ran felt goosebumps in his arms as you both exchanged breathless gasps in pleasure.

“You’re such a good girl to me…” He whispered, kissing you softly. Slowly but surely, you took the entirety of his length just before he hits your cervix due to the position you're in. Ran slowly withdrew before slamming back into you in exactly the same spot he stopped at.

“Am I taking you well, honey? D’you hear that? Fuck, you dick me down so good.” You praised, whispering seductively into his ear. You felt Ran’s length throb inside of you upon hearing those words before he pushed one deep thrust with a grunt,

“Keep talking like that and I might just blow my load deep inside you.” You and Ran had always been careful. But his suggestion puts ideas in your head.

You are aware that you have a high chance of getting pregnant today, and that only pushed you into agreeing to your husband. Ran had always been vocal about dreaming of having children with you, but he is also very considerate and respectful of your decisions so he waited for the right time for you.

You are happy with the stability in your life and would dearly love to expand your small family with Ran.

He started to dive into you a little harder as he could feel himself releasing shortly. By how you clenched his shaft a lot tighter, he could tell that you were close to your climax too.

“Where do you want it, baby—?” Ran whispered, holding your body softly.

You wrapped your legs around his waist just in time. Ran came hard and suddenly, straining his moans against your lips in a kiss. That answered his question and was all he needed to pour his load into your pussy as you came together.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #mikey x reader smut #manjiro sano #kazutora x reader smut #kazutora hanemiya #hanma x reader smut #shuji hanma #sanzu x reader smut #sanzu haruchiyo #ran x reader smut #ran haitani

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worldsewage · 2 months

Note

Hehe may I ask about evil Callie?

(The evil/brainwashed) Callie here functions a bit differently… as I also use her to explore what exactly mud mouths are… and the octarian’s relationship with their ally, Salmonids…

Explanation under the cut. 🚧

Due to constrained relations between them and the other main dominating species— (salmonid/octarian vs inklings)— most Inklings, namely younger generations, are more desperate to fix and mend the relationship.

(There is plenty more to this! But I don’t want to make this come across as far more convoluted than it needs to be, so here have this for now:📒)

Octavio contacted Callie directly, albeit in secret, telling her that he has plans that would be a step forward in ending the tension between the Inklings and Octarian-Salmonid groups. What he had introduced was a new type of “ink” that would make their species “salmonid friendly”, and he wanted Callie to be the one to be the first public appearance with this new Ink in hopes to reach a wider audience…

Most of that isn’t true— but to Callie— who is a direct descendant of a war leader, was raised as an agent, and lives in a fairly dangerous city zone that floods, that sounded like a better step towards a better life, and she went for it.

This ink is known as MUD— and this “ink” isn’t technically ink at all, as mentioned in a previous post, most inks are a synthetic toxic poison, designed for warfare, but this ink on the contrary, wasn't designed by Inkfish, it was designed by Salmonids.

MUD is a slimy corrosive ink designed to rival Inkfish’s ink, namely in salmon runs and Ink Wasted territories, one that blends into the grounds and spreads out quickly and efficiently much like Inkfish ink, but one that corrodes Inklings by absorbing into them, and leaves salmonids completely safe from any burning effects.

The Octarian were the ones tasked with creating this new bio-weapon, as an added benefit being it would not affect their species, (they would be safe from it regardless, considering Salmon-Runs are an Inkling exclusive event, and Octolings were surprised when they learned about them.)

They tried different methods of testing it, and ultimately, the project failed— Mud uses both Salmonid and Inkling DNA in its creation, and when Mud was being developed, it melted Salmonids like Ink typically does due to its hyper-corrosive nature, but because it carried Inkling + Salmonid DNA, the salmonid’s skin would attempt to mimic the properties of inklings and constantly try to reconstruct itself into the “swim” form, which made Salmonids a walking (or rather, squirming) sludge, these monsters became known as MUDMOUTHS, and are not truly considered alive, since they run exclusively on the Running Instinct that exists in Salmonid DNA.

And in turn, when the ink was absorbed into Inklings— the previously noted “running instinct” would have an almost Kraken-Esque affect on inklings before corroding and splatting them.

The running instinct would work as intended, everything they eat immediately converts to growth in preparation for an arduous journey, they’re extremely aggressive, and they have a desire to return to the salmonid birthplace.

Mud would splat inklings upon prolonged contact, but Inklings who were test subjects for mud were slowly injected with Mud over a course of time. These subjects were disoriented and had a sort of “positive” aggressive attitude that didn’t falter even in the face of family or friends.

They are easy to persuade and it’s unclear if this is due to the pain of getting the ink-content in their bodies replaced by this synthetic fake-ink, or if the running instinct muddles their thoughts. It’s probably a healthy mix of both.

Dj Octavio, kept Callie by his side, since in her current state her mind would be too fogged up to dispute or make sense of what he’s making her do.

He planned on using Callie to stir up trouble in Inkopolis solely for the sake of rising tension. Octavio is constantly searching for reasons to make Inkling’s an enemy in the eyes of everyone who sees them, and painting Callie— a well known public figure; a known descendant of Captain Cuttlefish— as vicious would do wonders for allowing most people to view the Octarian as a force that would more desirably be backed up, it would reinforce their armies. And make them overall stronger if people felt they had reason to target Inklings.

He didn’t get this far due to Agent Four’s interference.

But, he got to accomplish many theft missions using Callie— which included robbing Inkopolis of some of the Zapfish Generators, which are giant machines that are powered thanks to the Zapfish, and thanks to the Zap-Ink— ⤵️

(Above image is from here) — Octavio was able to use said generators to restore power to many of the war-affected bio-domes that have been obsolete for decades, WITHOUT the need for a Zapfish.

But his reasoning can still be dumbed down to a petty move on Octavio’s part— who despite having a safer ground in the domes due to a good trade relationship with Salmonids and a vast space away from water— he still feels bitter about losing the remaining lands. And because of this the Octarian are plenty more war driven, and they are more likely to easily fall to the fervor of these schemes and battles.

#my art #homerun au #callie cuttlefish #marie cuttlefish #dj octavio #salmonids #splatoon #alligator (agent 4)

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slutforln4 · 1 month

Text

DEVOTION

🖇️ you liked being secret. it was something sacred between the two of you. you liked it so much, you started to hate it

🖇️ pairing: lando norris x teammate reader

🖇️ 8.2k words, angst & smut | second part to crave

🖇️ took me another month to finish, but as demotivating as this was, i hope i get back to posting more frequently :)

Clandestine meetings soon became you two’s most trusted secret.

The gentle touches, quiet whispers, longing glances and warm smiles were something you had grown to love. And your favourite part about it being secret? It was all about you.

In public, you’d pay no mind to Lando. During races, you’d still act like you hate him, still try and cause trouble on the track. But in private, where the only set of eyes on you were the green irises of the man you love, you’d be the centre of attention.

Lando’s hands wouldn’t touch you the same way in public as they do in the enclosed space of his driver room, hotel room, or your home. And that excited you.

You liked being secret. It was something sacred just between the two of you.

You liked it so much, you started to hate it. Maybe it was just the fact that Lando took you being a secret a bit too far. Or maybe it was just his way of hiding your relationship, if you’d even call it that.

You just couldn’t understand him going out with another girl, but still ending up in your bed at the end of the day.

Especially when you had deleted every dating app, got rid of every memory of any guy you were talking to, all because you and Lando have the chance to become something.

Your hope of that lessens everytime you see rumours of him going out with girls. It’s never anything romantic, just him at a table with a new girl every other week, so it didn’t bother you as much.

The bubbles in your hotel bathtub were softly caressing your skin when you saw the picture.

Casually scrolling on your phone in the bath as you waited for the conditioner to absorb into your hair, you made the horrible decision of clicking on that tempting X icon in the top left corner of your homescreen.

The first post? A picture of Lando’s tongue down a girl’s throat.

For the first time in a long time, Lando was the reason for that burning and disgusted feeling in your stomach. It felt like it was making its way up, the feeling getting caught in your throat as you type something out into a tweet, shut your phone off and drop it to the floor.

Even when you weren’t looking at it, the picture was burned into the back of your eyelids.

The mere image of his hands on her waist— the same hands he touched you with— was enough to make you feel that hatred crawling back.

As if on cue, your phone started ringing and the contact was none other than Lando himself.

“Hey, darling.”

You rolled your eyes at the familiar pet name. “Hi, Lando.”

Shuffling was heard on the other side of the call, you could only assume Lando was still in bed with the girl from that picture. “What’s with the tone? No ‘Lan’, no ‘baby’?”

“Sorry,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Stressful day.”

Lando chuckled. “Baby, we work at the same place. I’d know if you were off because of a stressful day. What’s wrong?”

You hated how he knew you inside and out, yet to you he had glued himself shut and you can’t pry yourself in.

“I don’t know.”

A sigh brushed past Lando’s lips. He knew why you were in a mood, and it didn’t exactly excite him to do that to you. In all honesty, he didn’t even know why he did it. It just happened, and you’re technically not together, so he thought it wasn’t a big deal.

The call stays silent for a minute or two, both of you trying to come up with what to say. Lando speaks first. “Come to my room. 304.”

“Lan, I’m no-” He hung up before you could even respond.

You finished your bath, hoping the water washes away whatever feeling was brewing in your chest.

The view of yourself in the mirror made you feel pathetic— why were you sulking over some guy?

It wasn’t even anyone special. Just the guy you’ve been in love with for about as long as you’d known him. The guy, who confuses you beyond words. You can’t help but try to decode whatever lies in the gaps and the silence, yet having no luck.

Despite being confused and frustrated, you dried your hair and changed into your PJs, and locked the hotel room behind yourself.

Lando’s room was just across the hall, the fourth door from yours.

This all felt too familiar, only fuelling the confusion and fear in your chest. It suffocated you, the notion that despite you being Lando’s, he wasn’t entirely yours.

Yet you still spent the night with him— slow and borderline loving, careful hands travelling your body and hungry lips trailing your neck.

And in the morning, the sun just above the horizon, you slipped from Lando’s grasp and found yourself crying away your mascara before it’s properly dried.

The black taint stained your cheeks, dripping down your chin and onto your sweatpants. You felt partly relieved to know Lando’s having fun. You’d hate to be the one to stop him from going out and finding other girls.

But that’s also what made you partly heartbroken.

It’s not even about you being hurt, it’s about other girls being replacements for each other, not knowing that you’re just like them— aching and breaking for someone that doesn’t see you the same way.

Your phone dings with a message as you wipe your tears away.

Lando: Don’t like morning cuddles anymore?

A giggle slipped past your lips before you thought to catch it, and you quickly typed up a reply.

You: I have a breakfast thing with Carlos.

You: Knew I’d probably ditch it if I were to cuddle you awake.

Lando: Will I see you at the party tonight?

Lando: DJs booth, just the place to be :))

You: I’ll think about it.

Except that you already had. You decided to go, more so for yourself than for Lando, but the thought that you’d get to spend more time with him sure was a bonus.

You continued on with getting ready as you called your brother and asked if he wanted to get breakfast. He instantly agreed, and you changed into something more casual and comfortable than the tear stained sweatshirt and mascara stained sweatpants.

Carlos was waiting for you in his car.

When you got in, he immediately felt something was off. Ever since you were little, it seemed like he had some sort of telepathy with you. Whenever you were sad, Carlos was there and comforting you.

He’s not sure what exactly is wrong right now, but he knows you need your big brother.

Carlos presses a few buttons on the control panel of the car and the sound of your favourite song plays. Your head turns to look at Carlos with an appreciative look on your face, a small smile adorning your lips.

You watch as he starts driving and turns the volume up, slowly beginning to dance along to the song as he mouths the lyrics. Soon, you broke out of your sadness and sang along with your brother.

This was exactly why you never gave up. Him.

Carlos has always been a great brother. You were still very small when you realised that. And everyday, every year, he proves that to be more and more true. Like when you were fourteen.

That year, the taste of heartache became familiar on your tongue.

It was the first time you had felt the touch of a male. It still lingered weeks after it happened. You felt loved and cared for, until you didn’t. Carlos was there through all of it, comforting you and threatening to beat that guy up for you.

Even though he was as protective as he could be, your heart kept breaking. It fixed itself, glued each broken shard back together, only to shatter again.

The flavour of love soon tasted more bitter than sweet. And you’re starting to feel the same way at twenty-four.

Minus the heart breaking and fixing itself part, but the flavour of bitterness still lingered on your tongue as you tried to wash it down with orange juice.

“Is it good?” Carlos points to your caesar salad with his fork, mouthful of scrambled eggs muffling his voice.

You poke at your food with a fork and shrug. “A bit bitter, but it’s fine.”

Carlos laughs at that, as he grabs your plate and switches it with his own. “The scrambled eggs are a bit… difficult to chew. But it’s better than croutons and whatever else is in this.”

You watch your brother take a bite of the salad, immediately making a face and trying his best not to spit it out. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” he says, through a faux pained expression. “It’s delicious.”

“I bet it is.”

Laughter came so easily when you were with your brother.

Carlos made you laugh so much you’d feel your abdomen grow sore with every giggle and laugh that escaped your lips. And Carlos loved seeing your eyes form into crescent moons, knowing that he’s still able to somehow make you feel better.

“Are you going to the party?” Carlos asks as you get out of his car, back at the hotel.

“Yep,” you shrug. “I don’t see why not.”

Carlos gives you a look as if he knew something, but said nothing about it. You brushed it off and made your way to the lobby. You ask for your key at reception, take the elevator to the fourth floor and as you’re about to unlock room 301, Lando’s hotel room door opens.

You don’t turn around to look, because you expect it to be Lando and you’re not sure if you want to talk to him right now. But what makes you whip your head to the left is the sound of a female giggle.

There she was. Same brown hair, same tan skin, same beautiful figure. Identical to the picture you had seen on twitter.

It made you sick to your stomach. Especially when you could see Lando’s head peeking out to kiss her goodbye, and you swore you could see his eyes focused on you. Though you can’t be sure, because as soon as you saw his curly brown hair, you were stepping into your hotel room.

It takes about fifteen minutes for you to calm down and for Lando to knock on your door.

You opened it expecting it to be room service, but Lando slipped inside before you could close the door on him. “You’re avoiding me.”

“I’d have no reason to, even if I was.” You shrug as you take a seat on the bed. Lando squats down in front of you, the palms of his hands flattening on your knees.

He rests his bearded chin on the top of his hand. “What’s wrong?”

“I already told you,” you shrug, before leaning back to push yourself up on the palms of your hands. “I’m stressed with the races starting up again.”

“You’ve been doing just fine, baby.” Lando reassures you. “You got second place, remember?”

“That’s the problem. I’m always in second place.” You’re not sure if you’re talking about the race or not anymore, but you mean whatever you said.

Lando leaned up to try and kiss you, but you turned away.

“And I think it’s best if we stay friends.”

That hit Lando right in the gut. He felt his chest constricting under the weight of your words, all the air being squeezed out of his lungs as each word plugged his airways.

“What? What do you mean?”

You shrug. “I want to focus on my career.”

Lando runs the palms of his hands across his face. He’s not sure why, but he has a feeling it’s got to do with the girl who left his hotel earlier. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I guess.” You shrug, sitting up and looking at him. Lando now stood on his feet, looking down at you as his fingers softly grabbed your chin.

He lifted your face up to look at him, thumb softly brushing past your bottom lip. As if it’s a habit, your lips parted and he smirked.

Lando knows you don’t mean it. You know it, too. You just needed a reason to get a break from him, even though you really don’t fucking want to.

Lando sits beside you, the familiar warmth of his hands wrapping around your waist and next thing you know, you’re on his lap. His lips don’t hesitate to kiss away any thought of you two staying just friends.

As much as this relationship hurt you, it was irresistible.

You longed for the lingering taste of Lando’s saliva mixing with yours, the warmth of his hands perfectly slotted on your waist, the lasting vibration of his moans in your mouth.

And Lando longed for it just the same.

He couldn’t tell you why he was going out with a different girl every other night, for the past two weeks of you two being… something.

Lando’s not even sure himself. It’s just something he was used to, but these times around it just felt so wrong. Yet he couldn’t say no to those girls, until he’s sure you feel the same overwhelming feeling of love he has for you.

When you fall asleep in his arms, Lando fights the internal battle to stay with you. But he knows it’s for the better if he leaves before you wake up.

The warmth of his body still cradles the sheets he laid in when you get woken up by a call.

You swallow down the bittersweet feeling in your throat before picking up, slumber still lingering on your tongue. “Hello?”

“Morning, lil’ Sainz.” Daniel’s cheery tone tickles your ear as you turn on your side. “Are you hungry?”

You check the clock on the wall. Six in the evening never looked so bright, but again, you’re in Las Vegas and it’s never dark in the city that never sleeps.

“Sure, what do you have in mind?”

Daniel’s smile can be heard from a mile away when he talks and it warms you up inside. “Sushi or pizza, your pick.”

“Hm,” you sit up and stretch, finally letting Lando’s warmth slip away from your skin. “I’m feeling like sushi, to be honest.”

“Sushi it is! See you in twenty.”

And in twenty minutes, you were sitting on your hotel room bed, Daniel telling you stories about Max and you stuffing sushi into your mouth, trying not to choke as you laughed.

“Are you going to the party?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You ask, noticing how it’s the third time you’ve heard the same question.

Daniel shrugs. “I’m just wondering,” he explains. “Don’t know if I would’ve gone without you.”

Over the last few weeks, you and Daniel have become close. So close that he’s probably the only one on the grid that knows about the little situationship you have going on with Lando.

But Daniel never brings him up, not unless you want to talk about it.

“I’m going,” you answer his previous question. “I bought a dress for this specific occasion.”

“Care to show it?”

You bounced to your feet at his question and made your way to your suitcase, not noticing how Daniel’s eyes followed each of your moves. You pulled out a black dress before making your way to your bathroom and trying it on.

Daniel waited patiently as you got dressed, the sushi entertaining him until the bathroom door opened.

The sushi he held up with his chopsticks never made it to his mouth, stuck mid-air as he gaped at the image in front of him — a long, silk dress with a slit deep enough to reveal the tender flesh of your left thigh, your shoulders adorned by thin and delicate straps.

You giggle at Daniel’s reaction. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

The aussie briefly nods. “It’s gorgeous.”

You roll your eyes, leaning against the doorway with your arms crossed over your chest. “Now, without pretending to be Lando?”

“It’s beautiful on you. Gonna make him drool,” Daniel grins at you. “My impression’s spot on and you know it.”

You giggle as you roll your eyes again, turning back around to the bathroom. The door doesn’t close shut this time, which prompts Daniel to rise to his feet and investigate what you were up to.

Leaning against the doorway, his golden eyes carefully watched as you dabbed on makeup. “Do you really need all that?”

“Yeah, you could use some, too.” You tease, leaning against the bathroom cabinet to get closer to the mirror.

“I mean,” you turn to Daniel when he shrugs. “You’ll be crying it off anyway.”

A used wet-wipe lands on Daniel’s crossed arms, him laughing and you threatening to throw another one. “Get out.”

“Alright, alright.” He raises his hands in defeat. “I’m picking you up in an hour, hopefully you’re done caking yourself in makeup by then.”

“Bye, Daniel.” You raise your voice as if to urge him to leave.

“See you, love.”

The hotel room door closes and you’re left alone again, thoughts of Lando quickly seeping back into your mind.

It’s like every time you tried to get rid of him, he found a way back in. And who are you to say no to him?

When you fell asleep in his arms earlier, the familiar scent of him clouding your mind, you felt it again. And as much as you cursed yourself for feeling it, you couldn’t help but let the feeling bloom in your chest.

Lando felt it too, and he felt it full force when he saw you walking into the club with Daniel’s arm around your waist. Yet the feeling of love in his chest was mixed with a tinge of jealousy. Or maybe more than a tinge, because his jaw clenched at the mere sight of your little dress swaying with every step you took.

“Everything alright, Lan?” Lando’s armcandy of the night mumbles against his neck.

His green eyes track you from across the club, narrowing in on you when you spot him and give him a small wink. “Everything’s perfect, babygirl.”

You felt sick to your stomach at the sight of Lando and the same girl from earlier. His arm was gripping her waist in a way you thought was special to you and it made your skin crawl.

“You think he believed it?”

You turn to Daniel as he asks, sitting back in the booth you two shared. “I think so.”

“I can keep the act going, if you’d like.” He offers with a cheeky grin decorating his face.

You sip the margarita he had ordered for you, before smiling softly. “I’ll take you up on that, then.”

The night seems to pass you by as you get occupied in a conversation with your brother and his friends. Soon, the blasting music and fluorescent lights began to bore you, so you chose to scan the club for something to do.

When the dance floor catches your eye, you grab Daniel’s wrist. “Get up.”

The golden eyed man doesn’t utter a word as he gets up and follows you, ready to go wherever you take him. He quickly realises what you want to do, his arm snaking around your waist in an incredibly familiar way.

Daniel feels your hand find the back of his neck as he pulls you in from behind, slowly moving your hips against his. It’s a platonic act, both of you know it, but at the moment, Daniel feels like it’s more than just a ruse to make Lando jealous.

Maybe, for the night, he could let loose and show you what a good man is. Maybe, if it all goes right, he’d get to take you back to the hotel, too.

He loses all hope for that when he notices your eyes scanning the room again, looking for the one and only Lando Norris.

The man stood at the bar, green eyes carefully narrowed at the hand that’s slowly moving closer to your inner thighs.

He’s not sure why he’s so fucking jealous. It’s not like he wasn’t doing the same damn thing twenty minutes ago, hands exploring parts of the armcandy’s body they’ve never touched before. Lando feels like its fine only when he does it.

A gentle tug on his arm averts his attention elsewhere. Natalie, or whatever her name was, looked up at Lando with her big brown eyes. “Do you want to leave?”

Lando’s curls bounced when he shook his head. “No, baby.” You watch as he kisses her head, arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. “You having fun?”

“Mhm,” she grins up at him, noses touching and the image slowly burns into your memory. You feel a spark of something inside of you, something that caused you to be more handsy with Daniel.

The sight of Daniel’s hands grabbing your ass, your arms tracing the outline of his pecs and Daniel grinning down at you with a look only you could get out of a man, made Lando’s blood boil.

The party turned less into a celebration for the race and more of a competition between you and Lando— both of you were trying to see how much the other could take until one of you inevitably had enough.

Lando didn’t seem to be phased at all, instead waiting for the moment you looked his way. His fingers curled around the short brunette’s jaw as he pulled her in, his tongue exploring her vodka flavoured mouth.

You watched them make out, anger and envy filling your system. You felt it pulse through your veins and it stopped the second Daniel spoke. “You might not like this idea, but maybe-”

“Kiss me.”

The australian blinks a few times, as if to try and make sense of what you just said. “What?”

“When Lando looks at us, I need you to kiss me.” You explained, arms wrapping around Daniel’s warm neck. You saw the blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Friends kiss, don’t they?”

“I mean, yeah.” He shrugs, an awkward grin decorating his pretty lips. “Sure.”

The song changes and you start dancing again, untangling yourself from Daniel and letting your own hands travel your body and raise your dress slightly, ass facing Daniel as he tries his best not to look at you too much.

But he couldn’t help it. His eyes seemed to be drawn to your figure, hands glued to your hips as you grinded on him again, back against his chest and faces inches apart. Daniel wasn’t even sure if Lando was looking, but he kissed you anyway.

His whiskey flavoured lips perfectly matched the taste of the margarita on yours, tongues fighting a battle neither of you will win. The kiss felt like something new, something you’ve never felt before and want to feel again, and again, and again.

To your luck, Lando was looking. He wasn’t just looking— he was burning holes into the back of your head with the intense stare he had on the image in front of him— his ex-teammate kissing his fucking girl.

Lando wouldn’t have that.

The brunette girl he was making out with earlier stands confused as her date peels himself away from her, making his way to the middle of the dance floor.

Daniel feels the warmth of your breath being torn away and the last thing he sees is Lando’s tight grip on your waist and your body following him into the bathroom.

The slam of the bathroom door is loud enough to scare whoever might’ve been in the neighbouring room.

You didn’t have enough time to comprehend what happened until you see Lando’s hungry eyes trailing your face.

“Hey, Lando.” A teasing smirk plays on your lips as you button up the third button on his shirt. “Button up, you look like a whore.”

The alcohol was obviously still twirling in your brain, but Lando didn’t care. “You’re one to talk, princess.”

You shrug. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Oh yeah?” Lando stares at you, a fire so bright in his eyes that it burns you before he’s even touched you. “I’m sure you know exactly what I’m fucking talking about.”

The anger in his tone made you melt. You felt how much your teasing had rubbed off on him and the thought of him letting his anger out on you made you excited.

The bathroom door lock snaps when Lando’s fingers turn it, and the anticipation burns in your chest. It doesn’t take long for him to kiss you, lips attacking your mouth in a way you’ve never felt before.

Lando brings his hands to your hips, pulling you to sit on the edge of the marble countertop next to the sink. He traces his tongue along your jaw and neck, finding all the sensitive spots he had already memorised.

A loud whimper leaves your lips when he bites the skin of your collarbone, the tender skin turning red and teeth marks indenting it. Lando laps at the skin, groaning against it as if the taste of you was pleasure to him.

Lando slipped the straps of your little black dress off your shoulders, revealing your bare chest. He didn’t hesitate, tongue finding your left nipple and twirling around it.

“You lose yourself, darling.” He growls against your skin, pushing you further against the cabinet as your thighs dig into the edge of it. “Every time I’m not there to control you, you misbehave.”

“Mmm,” you groan as his hand wraps around your neck, softly applying pressure with his fingertips. You feel the air softly escape your lungs and the exhale is slow when you say, “misbehave?”

Lando bites back what he initially wants to say, a smirk decorating his soft lips when he notices the glimmer of lust in your eyes. “Little sluts like you never know when they misbehave, hm? Rubbing yourself all over my ex-teammate, kissing him… You thought I wouldn’t do anything about it?”

“I knew you would,” you smile, canines shining in the white glow of the bathroom lights. “I wanted you to.”

Lando narrows his eyes at you. “Is that so, pretty girl?” His fingers curl around your neck tighter, air hitching in your throat.

With one swift move, Lando pulls you off the cabinet and turns you around to face the mirror on the wall. It’s big enough that you can see your entire body and Lando standing behind you.

You’re too focused on the hunger in Lando’s eyes to notice him practically tearing your dress upwards, pulling your drenched panties to the side and slipping himself into you with ease.

“So fucking wet,” he moans, fingers digging into your hips so painfully that it feels good. “Was it me or was it Daniel that got you this wet, baby?”

A quiet moan leaves your lips as he stretches you out. You’d answer truthfully, but it’s too much fun seeing Lando so worked up knowing damn well he’s the only one who gets you soaked like this. “Mmh, fuck.”

“What was that?”

“He,” you huff, hissing when he slams into you a bit rougher this time. “Daniel got me, fuck,” the words get caught in your throat when Lando’s palm makes contact with your bare asscheek.

“Stop fucking lying to me.” He says through gritted teeth. “I know he can’t make you feel the same way I can.”

You hate that he’s right.

As fun as Daniel was, he could never have you be a whimpering mess underneath him. You’re sure he’s great and you know any woman that ends up with him will be lucky, but it won’t be you.

Lando pulls you back into the moment with a tug on the fistfull of your hair in his palm. “Look at me when I speak to you, darling.” Your eyes lock onto him in the reflection of the mirror. “Good girl.”

A weird feeling settles in your belly when he says that phrase. He’s never used it for you before and you realise you fucking love it. The grin on your face and half-lidded eyes show it, too.

Your head drops down onto the cabinet as Lando grips your hips again, pulling you into him as he basks in the melodical moans coming from your pretty lips.

“Look at yourself,” his veiny hand wraps around your neck and fingers dig into the base of your jaw, lifting your head up to face the mirror. “Such a fucking slut.”

Lando’s still pounding into you when the door handle twists and someone tries to get in.

The skin-to-skin noise doesn’t stop as Lando shouts. “Occupied!” all while his hand covers your mouth. He’s purposefully digging his cock deep into your pussy, trying to fish out any loud noise he can get.

You’re drooling all over his fingers when your mouth parts and he slips two of them past your lips. Lando can feel your high approaching and he fucks deeper into you, surprising you with an orgasm.

You half expected him to leave you without one, but the pleasure washes over you as you moan his name. “Fuck, Lando!” He’s groaning when your walls close around him, and he’s spilling into you, his warm cum burning you from the inside.

Before you can even open your eyes, Lando’s flipping you around and pulling you off the cabinet. Your legs give out and Lando’s hands wrap around your waist before you fall to your knees, instead bringing you down slowly.

You look up at him, lashes fluttering as he pumps his cock a couple times. “Open your mouth, doll.”

Lucky you, not only did your pussy get filled to the brim and graciously given an orgasm, you get to feel his veins burn into the back of your throat, too.

Your soft lips part, closer to the base of his cock. As hot as it was the first time you did this, and the numerous times after, Lando wasn’t in the mood for any teasing.

“I told you to open your mouth, not to lick my dick and act as if you’re not desperate to have me down your throat.”

That statement alone was enough to make you open your mouth, greedily taking his whole cock down your throat.

You’re lucky the club was blasting music, perfectly drowning out your moans and whimpering as your nose brushed against Lando’s pubes.

Lando’s known for being loud, so his moans were probably heard from the hallway. For some odd reason, that turned you on.

His dick dug into your throat and you felt your eyes prick with tears, whimpers bouncing off his shaft and struggling to get past your lips. With basically no warning, Lando’s dick twitched and warm liquid ran down your throat. And you swallowed it without a word from Lando.

Lando wipes your bottom lip with his thumb. “Get up.”

You do as told, fixing the edge of your dress to lay flat against your thighs. You’re hiding yourself from him as if he wasn’t just in you a few minutes ago.

Lando buckles his belt up and watches as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your fingers softly dab at your face and you try your best to fix the mascara that runs down your cheeks.

His warm arms wrap around your waist and his face finds your neck. “You’re beautiful.”

“Did you just leave the girl by herself?” You ask, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror.

Lando shrugs behind you. “I’m sure she found her way home, or at least some company.”

“You’re a dickhead, Norris.”

“And you love it.”

The playful grin on his lips caused you to break out in a smile.

Lando follows you out of the bathroom, hand tightly wrapped around yours, fingers intertwined. Daniel’s eyes meet you across the club and he feels his heart sink to his feet at the sight of Lando so closely entwined with you.

“Hey,” the aussie says to you when you walk up to the table you two sat at. He’s accompanied by Charles and Max, who look at you with warm and welcoming smiles. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you smile at him and place your knee on the seat next to his thigh. You lean over him, completely unaware that your dress rides up and shows the smallest bit of your ass. Daniel softly tugs the dress down so it covers you up as you grab what you need. “Forgot my handbag.”

The men at the table watch you walk away, hips swaying like they usually do, and Lando’s arm wraps around your waist again as he leads you out the club.

Through blurred vision and quiet laughs, you somehow make it back to the hotel. As if it’s a habit, you made a beeline to Lando’s hotel room as soon as the elevator door opened.

Lando watched as you grabbed his keycard and swiped it to open the room.

When the light turned on, Lando’s messy hotel room came into your blurry sight. It was neatly messy, some clothes in piles and his perfumes and skincare scattered across the coffee table.

A snort slipped past your lips when you saw Dior Sauvage amongst the many tubes and bottles. Of course he’d use sauvage.

You feel warm arms slip around your waist for the nth time this night and you lean back into his embrace. The smell of his cologne mixed with the alcohol lingering on him made your head dizzy. Lando’s lips find your neck and he softly kisses you, leaving a trail of love filled pecks down your shoulder.

“Lando?”

He holds his movements for a moment. “Yes, baby?”

“What is this?” You ask, voice trailing. The item in your hands is something that is so oddly familiar, yet you can’t put your finger on it.

Lando takes the keychain from your hands, fingers smoothing over the yellowing plastic. It’s pretty old, considering he got it when he was still in karting. “It’s the keychain you gave me. When we were like… Eight? After you sabotaged my race.”

At the mention of your karting days, your stomach turns. The memories of how disgustingly you had treated each other flood your brain and you don’t even hide the goosebumps infecting your skin.

Lando’s fingers softly wrap around your wrist and he turns you to face him before pulling you into his chest. The smell of his cologne mixes with the air as you inhale him deeply, trying to cling onto the feeling of comfort you can’t seem to ever hold onto.

For some reason, that tinge of guilt overtook any other emotion in your body and you felt your limbs grow flaccid at the mere thought of your past, and future, with Lando.

The hues in his eyes slowly disappear as he blinks. “You okay?”

“Tired.” The lie slips past your lips so easily, but it’s simpler to lie than to admit that your mind is going at a million miles an hour with thoughts of what you might never be.

Lando’s gentle hands tour your body and he carefully undoes your zipper, slipping the dress off your delicate skin with his fingertips trailing behind. You’re standing in front of him, and even though he’s already seen every part of you, you feel bare. Raw. Exposed.

It doesn’t take an idiot to notice when you’re off, but Lando felt it coming even before you two got to the hotel.

“Here,” he hands you a t-shirt and you nod your head as a thank you. Yet even before you begin putting the shirt on, Lando takes it from your hands again. “Let me help.”

Your curious eyes watch as he pulls the shirt open from the bottom and his eyes lock onto yours, “arms up,” he mumbles and you obey. He tugs the shirt over your head, the smell of his detergent stilling in your sinuses and making you dizzier than you already were.

Warm fingers softly cup your cheek and you lean into the touch, as his other hand fixes the hair that falls on your face. Lando doesn’t talk, you don’t need him to, instead he gently leads you to the bed and lifts the sheets up as you get in.

Your gaze follows his figure as he walks around to the other side of the bed and sits down at the foot of it. An annoyed grumble leaves his mouth as he fumbles with the buttons, but gives up when he can’t manage to undo them. The muscles on his back flex as he raises his arms to tug off the shirt, and not an inch of his skin goes unnoticed by your gaze.

You connect the dots on his back and draw constellations from them, far more beautiful than the ones you’ve observed in the night sky.

He lays his curls down on the soft pillow, facing you and his hazel eyes carefully study your face. Lando forced himself to stay on his side of the bed, despite every cell in his body practically begging to touch you.

“Come closer.” You whisper and he scoots over even before the words fully leave your mouth. You feel his arms gently wrap around your waist as he pulls you in with your back to his bare chest.

When his lips press against your neck, then your collarbone, and then your shoulder, you expect him to slip his hands into your underwear, how he would every single night you’d end up like this. Your legs subconsciously move apart as you push yourself onto your back.

Lando doesn’t do what you expected him to, though. He continues placing gentle kisses on your shoulder, not moving any closer to your chest and his hands still wrapped around you. “Not tonight, baby.” He mumbles against your skin, the warmth of his breath causing goosebumps on your skin.

“Why not?”

Lando pulls away looking at you. “That's all we do.”

You feel a certain warmth in your belly and a piercing feeling in your chest. “Yeah.”

He lays back down, curls bouncing as he lays down more comfortably. You notice his green, piercing gaze softly studying your face as you look up at the ceiling. Lando knows something’s wrong. Nothing’s been right since he left you and Carlos’ home.

“Can we watch something?” You ask, eyes examining Lando’s face before he softly nods and reaches for the remote. The TV turns on to some random rom-com, and that’s what you settle on watching.

It’s one of the most clichè movies you’ve watched, and you can’t help but let a small smile decorate your face. Your eyes were on the screen, and Lando’s eyes were on you.

He adored the curve of your nose, the shape of your lips, the lashes that sat atop your gorgeous eyes. Lando’s been trying to ignore the feelings growing in his heart, but seeing you this close, being able to just watch you, he decides not to.

“Do you remember the first time we kissed?” Lando’s low and gravelly voice tickles your ears. You turn your head a little towards him, watching how his eyes flickered with something close to what you felt.

“Like, at my house?” You ask, a bit confused by his sudden question. “What about it, Lan?”

He quickly shakes his head. “No, the very first time, when we were sixteen.”

As the words leave his lips, you notice the familiar look of anxiety on his face. The same look he gave you right before his lips touched yours, in that parking lot you soon found to be your favourite place.

That race was proven to be the worst of both of you’s careers— high speed corners, oversteer, crash.

You remember the anticipation of a race weekend brewing in your stomach, hands shaking and heart palpitating as you got into your race car. Lando was right ahead of you, his helmet bright as he got into his own car.

The race started as every other one, you felt confident and proud to have gotten this far. The corners were easy enough to turn, the car felt smooth and you had no doubt you’d land a podium that day or maybe even win the race.

The mind of a sixteen year old girl is more naive and confident than anyone else.

You felt the excitement in your chest as the next corner was easy enough to turn, and it’d let you be even further ahead of your teammate. But, as if it was on purpose, Lando’s car rear ended yours and both of you spun out.

Lando never felt such embarrassment and guilt, especially when he saw you get out of the car with clenched fists and angry strides.

You’re not sure what happened after that, but you remember ditching the briefing with your team after saying you felt ill and hiding in the parking lot, behind a car parked next to the curb.

The humming of the approaching evening managed to calm you down. You felt cold, reminding you that you can, in fact, feel and you’re not just a machine that’s expected to do amazing all the time.

Your silence was interrupted, because even if you were on the other side of the world, Lando would somehow find you.

“Want some?” He appeared from behind the car and startled you, a bottle of champagne in hand.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “How’d you get that?”

The brunet simply shrugged and sat down beside you, taking a large gulp of the champagne before handing it to you. You didn’t hesitate to take it and chug some.

“Listen, I’m sorry-“

“It’s fine.” You shut his apology down. “I wouldn’t have won anyway.”

Lando shook his head, clearly dismissing whatever you just said. “You’re stupid if you think that.”

“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes and take another swing of the champagne bottle. “Did you only come here to apologise?”

Lando shrugged. “Kinda, yeah.” You couldn’t help but laugh slightly at his expression. “I honestly feel bad, you would have definitely won today if I didn’t fuck up.”

“I heard it was a car issue.” You looked at him for the first time that evening. He looked genuinely upset, which was unusual behaviour for him, especially when it was something to do with you.

“Yeah,” he looked up at the darkening sky. “I could’ve reported it earlier, but I thought I could get in a few more laps before doing that.”

A laugh escaped your lips before you’d thought to catch it. “Was it that or did you plan to sabotage my race? As some sort of revenge, or something.”

“No,” he admits, looking back to the ground. He was nervous and scared, and wasn’t in the mood to tease you. “I wouldn’t do that. Not to you.”

Your curious and confused eyes met his. “What?” Your voice cracked and some form of anger laced your words. “Last time I checked, you fucking hated me.”

“I could never hate you, Y/N.”

“That’s bullshit, you’ve only ever tried to sabotage my races and you’ve been a dick to me for as long as I’ve known you.”

Lando sighs, not sure how to convince you or explain what he means. “I don’t know what changed, but I’m not like that anymore. I’ve tried to be nice to you, but you never take it seriously and you act mean instead of accepting it.”

“Are you trying to make me pity you so I forgive you for that stunt you pulled today?” You huff, a disappointed laugh leaving your lips. “You’re unbelievable, Norris. Don’t act like you actually like m-“

That’s when he kissed you.

You felt his breath brushing against your skin as his lips crashed against yours, chapped and rough, but it felt just right.

For a minute or two, you didn’t pull away. You let him kiss you and you kissed him back, and it was exactly what you needed. It wasn’t the champagne swirling in your tummy that made you all warm inside, but instead the soft touch of his fingers to your jaw.

It’s almost like it snapped you into reality.

You pulled away and scooted further from him, watching him with widened eyes. “What the fuck…”

“I’m not acting.” Is all Lando said, before he got up and left you alone, on the curb, just like he found you ten minutes before.

You felt awful for how you handled it, because after his confession, he went back to being cold and mean to you. He wouldn’t utter a word your way unless he absolutely had to, and the teasing remarks were gone.

It all changed from then, until about three years after, when both of you got into Formula One.

You blink and look back at Lando, the memory replaying in your mind multiple times as you nod. “Yeah, I remember it, why?”

“I did mean it.” He hums, fingers softly tugging a piece of your hair behind your ear after you’d turned around to face him. “I liked you back then. I was an idiot for not telling you.”

“Lando-“

“Let me talk, baby.” Lando’s green eyes reassure you and you urge him to speak.

“I was sixteen and stupid, and not persistent in getting what I wanted. I shut those feelings down until pretty recently, when I realised that I never really hated you. I was intrigued and interested.”

He takes a pause, mind sorting through the plethora of thoughts circling his mind in that moment.

“I’ve been yours since I kissed you.” You felt his words weigh on your chest. And you’re not sure if you can trust him.

“Then why did you do that? You can’t imagine how awful it felt seeing pictures of you and all those girls, while I laid in my bed and waited for you to call me and repeat the same routine.”

“I don’t know.” He admits, sounding as genuine as he is. “I was trying to ignore the feelings, in fear of rejection again, even though I knew I had you.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, not sure what to say. It feels awkward talking your feelings out with him, since you’ve never really done that before.

“It’s always been you.” Your eyes find his face again when he speaks. “Even though you hated me, it’s always been you.”

A small, bittersweet grin spread across your cheeks. “I used to hate you with everything I had in me.”

“I know.” It pains Lando to hear it, but he needed the reminder that the mutual hate you two have gone through for him to have you in his arms right now was too much to lose. He can’t risk that. “I felt it.”

“I’m sorry. About everything.” Lando felt the sincerity in your voice as you spoke. It’s the first time he’s actually hearing you speak about your feelings and he’s scared. He’s not sure if it’s the fear of rejection or the fear of losing you, but it shakes him to his core and he’s not sure how to handle it.

“It’s okay.” He says, eyes glimmering with a mixture of anxiety and desperation in them. “Get some sleep, we have a flight tomorrow.”

You nod softly, turning on your side but still facing him. There’s no amount of words you could say to him that would fully explain what’s exactly going on in your mind. It’s running at the speed of light with thoughts, and you can’t seem to grab ahold of a single one.

Lando lays on his back, shutting the TV off and placing the remote on the nightstand. You heard his quick breath as he moved closer to you, scooping you up and pulling you into his chest.

The warmth of his chest soothed you to sleep. Lando listened to your breathing, waiting for it to slow down and the exact moment when you’d fall to slumber.

His own mind was going haywire. There was so much he just said, still dodging the direct confession, and he cursed himself for it. He could have just told you instead of bringing up the worst night you two had ever experienced. Idiot.

Your face nuzzled further into his skin and he felt your arms snake around his torso, taking ahold of the beating drum in the middle of his chest. He was sure you could hear the rapid heartbeat shaking him, and you could.

The warmth and sound of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep faster than any other sound. When Lando was sure you had fallen asleep, he softly played with your hair. It’ll be a while before he can say this to you when you’re awake, and you won’t hear it now, but he says it anyway.

“I love you.”

It takes a moment for you to recollect yourself, the act of falling asleep that you’ve perfected since childhood finally coming to play. You bit back a small grin, ignoring the pitter patter in your own chest.

Lando felt uneasy when you shifted your position, lying on your stomach and partially on him, lips so close to his neck.

You placed a gentle kiss on his collarbone, eyes closed and breath steady.

“I love you, too.”

🖇️ taglist for this fic: @lifesass @sltwins @ln4norizz @mybluesoul1 @landoslover

#formula one #formula 1 #f1 #lando norris #daniel ricciardo #f1 x reader #max verstappen #charles leclerc #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x reader #formula one smau #formula one x you #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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auras-moonstone · 2 months

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⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ furious at you (for making me feel this way.) — luke castellan

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.2K

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: y/n and luke have to share a room and tensions are released.

ᡣ𐭩 warnings/contents: suggestive. implied sexual activities. tension. enemies with benefits? sub!luke. dom!reader.

ᡣ𐭩 author’s comment: first luke fic omgomgomg. i feel like i’m cheating on ethan/jack 🫣

“luke if your fingers gets near the stereo i’ll bit them off.” y/n grumbled.

“we’ve been listening to your music the entire trip.” luke argued.

“it’s been only 20 minutes, and i’m the one driving, therefore, i’m the one in charge.”

percy, grover and annabeth, who were sitting in the back, were completely unaware of the argument. they knew that the two teenagers would soon start to bicker so they had put their headphones on as soon as they entered the car.

“well, then. let me drive.” luke said.

“oh, yeah? where’s your drivers license?” she arched an eyebrow.

“i don’t need one.” luke shrugged. “if you can do it, so can i.”

“my god, you’re a child.” y/n rolled her eyes. “and yes, you need one, unless your goal is to get arrested. and that’s not on my holiday bingo.”

“i just want to listen to something other than taylor swift.” luke sighed.

“then use these lovely things called headphones. they’re great!”

“i forgot to bring them.”

“that sounds like a you problem.” the girl shrugged. “now shush. i love this song.”

“i hate you.”

ignoring him, she turned the volume up, and the story of us started resonating inside the small car. from the corner of her eye, y/n could see luke tapping his fingers against his thigh as he slowly moved his head to the rhythm of the song.

“not that bad, huh?” y/n smirked.

“it’s okay.” he tried to play it cool, but she could feel him absorbing the lyrics of the song as well as the sound of the instruments in the background.

the rest of the drive to the coast was surprisingly calm, without arguments. though the peace was short-lived because as soon as they arrived to the hotel they were going to stay at, the receptionist informed them there had been an incident with the rooms.

y/n had booked two rooms—one with three beds for the kids and one with two beds for luke and her. but something happened with her and luke’s room so they wouldn’t be able to use it.

“okay, but do you have any other available rooms?” y/n asked the woman.

“the only ones available have one bed.”

“like really really large beds where it would be impossible for us to be close?” luke intervened.

y/n sent him a glare. “sorry about him. he hasn’t matured yet.” she smiled apologetically, and the receptionist looked between them, amused. “we’ll take that room.”

“we won’t charge you, it was the hotel’s problem. i’m very sorry for the inconvenience.”

“it’s fine. thank you very much.” y/n said politely, grabbing the keys. both of them walked back to the kids and explained the situations. “we’ll have to room differently. i’ll be sleeping with beth, and luke will stay with you two.”

“i don’t think so.” annabeth said, taking the keys from y/n before she could react. “take this as an opportunity to bond so you can stop annoying us with your constant bickers. good night!” and then it was just y/n and luke in the lobby, looking dumbfounded.

“okay. whatever i just want to sleep.” y/n said as she started walking to their room, luke following behind.

“i can’t believe we have to sleep on the same bed. this is a nightmare.” luke groaned when they entered the decent-sized room.

“i have no intentions of touching you, so i don’t see the problem” y/n said and then smirked, ready to tease him. “unless you’re worried you might not resist me and end up cuddling me.”

luke scoffed “as if. my body is repulsed by you, its staying far far far away from you as possible.”

“great. so there’s no problem, then. you can stop whining like a baby.”

he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “not whining.”

“you are. you even scrunch your face like a baby does when they’re about to cry.” she demonstrated said expression.

luke’s jaw clenched. “it’s actually my repulsed face. i can’t help it.”

“if it bothers you so much, you are very welcome to sleep on the hall.” she went to her bag and grabbed her pijamas, then she turned around—back facing the boy—and pulled her shirt off.

“what are you doing?!” his voice might’ve hit the octave. “there’s a bathroom to your right, you exhibitionist.”

y/n had to bit her lip not to laugh. there was something so rewarding about teasing luke, she was never able stop herself. “calm down. it’s just my back… oh wait, i forgot you are not familiar with female anatomy, my bad.”

luke rolled his eyes. ever since he let it slip that he was a virgin, the girl has been mocking him about it. it’s not that he didn’t catch the attention of people at camp, because almost everyone drooled over the camp counselor, but he just wasn’t attracted to anyone enough to have sex with them.

well, that was a lie. there was one girl who luke was painfully attracted to. but the gods hated him because he hated her guts almost as much as he wanted to strip her out of her clothes and fuck her like he hated her. and now he had to share a bed with said girl.

“care to show me, then?” luke wanted to tease her back, but as soon as those words left his mouth he cringed.

thankfully y/n just laughed and got under the white sheets. “in your dreams, castellan. now, please get in bed so i can turn the ligh-“ she lost the ability to formulate words when the tall boy stripped off his shirt, showing his toned arms and the lines of his abs.

“what? are you bothered by my male anatomy?” he mocked as he climbed into bed.

bothered? more like flustered, the girl thought. y/n said nothing as she turned the lamp off, the only source of light came from the moonlight. the sheets felt heavy against her heated body, so she shoved them off.

the bed wasn’t big enough. only a few inches separated their bodies and the tension lingered heavily in the air.

luke could make out the shape of her body under the light of the moon, and the sight was enough to drive him insane. “oh, fuck it.”

y/n seemed to have read his mind because her body gravitated towards him and their lips met in one ferocious kiss. in between lip bites, hair pullings and ragged breaths they got rid of their clothes.

“are you sure?” whispered y/n from above him.

luke nodded desperately. “i never wanted something as much as i want you.”

“god, luke. you drive me crazy. do you know how many times i’ve dreamt about this scenario?” y/n confessed making pauses to bite his neck. she was really drunk in lust because that was something she wouldn’t dare say aloud to him under other circumstances. hell, she was probably to regret saying it the following morning.

“probably not as many times as i did.” he squeezed her hips, eager to feel her. she was taking it slow, probably to torture him, and it was both agonising and hot. just like her.

“doubtful.” she kissed his swollen lips.

“please, y/n.” he said in a breathy plead.

“what do you want?” her hands explored his chest.

“anything. just please do something, i’m dying here.”

y/n took mercy on him and gave him what he desperately needed. and luke under her, begging and squirming in pleasure was something y/n never thought she would see. now, it was going to be imprinted on her mind forever. tattooed on her brain until her very last breath.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #percy jackson #pjo series #luke castellan smut #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan fanfic

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winterrrnight · 5 days

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rafe loves to hear you talk and talk about things you are so passionate about… <3 a rafe x reader blurb <3 cw: reader is chatty and rambl-y and is insecure about it, in this scenario reader is extremely passionate about japanese legends, lovesick rafe + casually dominant rafe, intentional lower case <3 just something for me to post after a small break as I work on other projects <3 for @zyafics who is one of the biggest reasons I am feeling motivated to write again <3

“oh here’s another one I read about yesterday!” you say excitedly as rafe squeezes your intertwined hands, smiling at you.

“mhm go on,” he smiles as you both continue to walk on the sidewalk, the full moon shining bright down at the two of you.

“this one is about the red thread of fate, this thread connects two soulmates,” you smile at him. he looks at you with his eyebrows slightly raised.

“connects two soulmates?” he echoes, and you nod.

“yeah,” you say. “it’s said there is a man who lives on the moon who comes to earth to show people their futures and who they’ll end up with. he does that with the help of the red thread of fate. he ties this invisible red thread between the two people who are meant to be together. this thread can tangle over the huge distance between the two people, it can stretch, but it will never ever break, and it will always tighten to bring those two people together.

“it also talks about the existence of a red pencil which can trace this invisible red thread, and this pencil gets shorter with its usage.

“oh and, this thread is always tied between the pinkies of the two people. that is because it was discovered a long time ago that our heart is connected to our pinky finger by an artery, which is now called the ‘ulnar artery’. this artery carries oxygenated blood from our heart to our pinky. so, in a way, our heart is directly linked to our pinkies via this artery, so when we make a pinky promise, we are basically connecting our hearts while making the promise. and that is why the invisible red thread of fate is also connecting our pinkies, because it is basically connecting the hearts of the soulmates, and–”

you take a look to your left at rafe, who’s looking down at the sidewalk as you both walk. you got so absorbed in talking you don’t even know if he is still listening or if he has tuned you out. honestly, who can blame him? since you keep on talking too much, anyone would quickly tune you out.

“oh god i’m doing it again aren’t i?” you say nervously as you stop in your tracks on the sidewalk, causing rafe to stop too. he eyes you with furrowed brows and creases on his forehead.

the actual truth is, rafe was thinking about tying a red thread to your pinkies when you both get home, his mind racing on where he can actually find some red thread in his house.

“doing what?” rafe asks softly.

“the, the ramble thing, where i just talk and talk till my mouth falls off,” you sigh, looking down. “I do that way too much, i don’t even know if you want to hear it or not but I just start speaking with no seeming end to my talk whatsoever, and you have to force yourself to listen to it because you got stuck being my boyfriend. and then i just keep on talking without thinking, it’s like my mouth has a mind of its own, I really should start to think–”

you are immediately cut off with rafe’s lips on yours, your eyes widening as you try to adjust to what is happening. rafe’s free hand comes to rest on your cheek to pull you even closer into the kiss, and your eyes flutter shut, letting you get lost in the feeling of him.

rafe gently pulls apart from the kiss, his eyes barely open as he gazes down at you.

“listen to me…” he says softly. “you don’t talk too much. I love hearing you talk. I love the cute expressions you make when you talk about things you are passionate about. I love how much knowledge you have about them and how you want to share it with me. I love the shine in your eyes when you start to talk, and the shine is even brighter under the moonlight. never ever apologize for talking too much because I won’t hear it, and you’ll only end up getting kissed by me each time. you get it?”

you look up in rafe’s eyes with a stunned expression. for the first ever time, you are at a loss of words, and all you can do is nod.

he smiles softly at you, as his thumb caresses your cheek. “words, baby, you hear me?” he says softly.

“yeah…” you let out. “I hear you,”

“good,” he mumbles. “never apologize again, okay?”

“okay,” you whisper.

he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and tugs on your hand gently, both of you now walking again. “come on, continue what you were saying,” he says, urging you to continue about the legend you were talking about.

you nod as you clear your throat before resuming to tell him more, this time not allowing even a single thought to let you stop as the stream of words spills from your lips, and rafe only listens in awe, loving hearing what it is you have to tell him.

#hi hi here's a new blurb :)#hope you all like!! <3 #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron concept #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron drabble #written by edith! 🪄

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blughxreader · 8 months

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building off of this platonic yandere batfam headcanon where they're slaves to your moods and whims...

I also kind of enjoy the idea of batfam revering and fearing batsib. Not enough to lesson their control over you (or back off their affection in any way), but they want your love so badly / think you're a jewel among rubble / cling to your every thought... I can see them freezing up when they know they're about to make you mad, or when you give your opinion.

Tim's like, "*shaky sigh* hi... we need to upgrade the tracking chip in your neck :) itwasbruce'sidea." (his idea actually)

or they know your triggers by heart (mentioning your past family, your aspirations of travel, lost career goals, etc) and immediate silence falls over them as they wait for your reaction.

This works especially well for Darlings that withdraw into themselves. It's impossible to NEVER give a single opinion or extra explanation, so on the rare occasion when you divulge something about yourself, they're like oh god its happening JOT THAT DOWN

Dick is good at talking around your pointed silence, even if he gets nervous under your glare. He has stars in his eyes when you finally engage with him, even if it's only a sentence more than your usual "yes/no" responses.

Dick is unpredictable too because you never know where his limit is. It's fine, it's fine, it's fine, then he comes back from patrol with broken knuckles and the scariest look on his face because he couldn't take the stress anymore. The only one in the house who will match your anger (rarely happens, though), and he apologizes through actions, not words.

Jason, who always has some shitty remark to make, finds himself at a loss for words when you're not talking. You two sit with your arms crossed in silence and look sour for two hours, then he walks away thinking it was a relatively good visit.

He gets overwhelmed the easiest when you're mad. When you're in a bad mood, very slight disturbance in the house sets him off and he needs the rest of the day to cool off.

Tim has no clue how to handle you. He doesn't fit the reliable older brother role and he can't fool anyone with the doe-eyed baby brother act, so I think he'd take the "best friend sibling" approach.

He's always trying new ways to curry your favor, despite it occasionally pissing you off from how obvious his attempts are. Tim's the least likely to be deterred by your rejection, despite how deeply it hurts. He sulks in the shower for an hour then gets out to cause problems only he can solve.

Kind of like how Damian absorbed Dick and Bruce's moral code because it fit his end goal of being Batman, I feel he would do the same to you but for slightly different reasons.

Damian walks around like your mirror. He unconsciously mimics everything you do, absorbing your behaviors and speech like a sponge. An outsider wouldn't be able to see past his trained neutral expression, but on the inside he thinks you're so cool.

He also copies you as a coping mech in order to limit upsetting you, and gets VERY embarrassed when he says something that contradicts your feelings.

Bruce, ever the scapegoat, has resigned himself to the brunt of your anger. He can't weasel his way into your heart like the boys can, so he's the most transparent about his bonding efforts. His gifts and attention are steady and unrelenting, no matter the response.

I think he's the sweetest... He's definitely the best listener in the house, and genuinely wants nothing more than for you to be safe and happy. Yes he wants you to accept the child/sibling role, but he won't manipulate you to get there (unlike some of the boys). Your anger gives him stress, but he takes it in stride.

for more yandere batfam content, visit my masterlist!

#platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batman #yandere x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #platonic yandere dc #yandere headcanons #yandere imagine

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compact-turtle · 1 month

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I'll listen to you next time. Okay? ~

Concept: Yandere Space Explorer x Gn Reader: Spicy Edition

Summary: Orion ignores your pleas to stay home and decides to follow you into the jungle.

TW: NS//FW, finger/ing, dub-con?, biting, general yandere stuff, riding, just being horny yk

Word count: 1.4k

Note: I'm like a thousand followers late but here's the first part of the thousand (now 2 thousand?!?!) follower celebration I promised!! I plan on breaking it up into 3 different posts for each character. First will be Orion, then Ivar and Atticus last!

Entry Date XX-XX-XXX Y/n has begun hoarding large amounts of food lately. No preference for food in the pile with the exception of Aishi flowers. Behavior lately has been erratic. Body language suggests uneasiness and anxiety. They’ve instructed me to stay in the hut for a few days while they leave on a journey. They brought all the Aishi flowers with them along with half the food pile. In order to understand their behavior, I am choosing to ignore their request and will follow them. I have-

"Oh fuck” Orion whispered as he finally noticed how lifeless the jungle had suddenly become.

He was utterly absorbed in finishing his journal entry, neglecting to watch his surroundings despite your repeated warnings. Orion couldn't determine how long the forest had been silent.

He quietly packed up his items, his heart pounding and his breath quickening.

It's fine. You were pretty close. You were just a few hundred feet inside a nearby cave that he'd tracked you down to.

Keep calm. Orion reminded himself multiple times as his feet picked up the pace. His eyes caught a glimpse of something purple stalking him.

No more calm.

Orion booked it. He clutched his satchel tightly while weaving through the jungle. Roots nearly tripped him. The jungle began to blur into a confusing tapestry of blue, green, and every other color.

Suddenly, he was pinned to the ground. Its sharp teeth flashed, and a disgusting smell wafted into his nose.

"GET OFF ME" Orion yelled as he attempted to kick the beast off him.

The kick did very little to harm it. At most, he probably annoyed the creature. The beast growled and opened its mouth wider.

Something pushed the giant beast off him just as it was about to take a bite. The beast staggered back in shock. A large howl escaped the beast.

You jumped on top of it with a blade in your head. You quickly shoved your blade into the side of the beast. Cries of pain echoed from it as he watched you take the knife out of its neck. It shook you off its back, and you fell onto the ground. Quickly, it ran into the jungle.

"WHY YOU HERE? SUPPOSED TO STAY HOME!" You screamed at him. Your body was sluggish as it dragged itself off the ground.

"I wanted to make sure you were doing okay! You've been acting so weird lately and-."

"Go home. Now."

Without looking back, you slowly walked into a nearby cave. Orion tip-toed behind you into the cave, trying not to upset you any further. A makeshift leaf curtain door covered the entrance. The cave was small and had a dead end. A pile of aishi flowers was littered around with a musk smell.

You immediately collapsed onto the flower when you walked in. Your body giving up as it pushed itself past the limit. Orion rushed over to you. At first, he assumed you were injured in the fight with the predator.

His eyes darted in surprise when he realized you were bare. He pulled you into his arms with your back facing him. Sweat dripped down your forehead as you buried yourself in his arms. It took Orion a few seconds to understand what was wrong with you. A small smile snaked itself way onto his lips.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I didn't know it was your heat and mating season! You should've said something to me. I would've helped you. "Orion said sweetly as he traced his finger down your back. You gave a soft mew and shuddered underneath his touch.

"Nooo. Give me flowers. I eat." You cried, trying to fight him. "I need it!"

Orion reached over and gently fed you a flower. Your body began to cool down, and your mews died down. The sensitivity is fading away. A look of soberness slowly leaked into your eyes.

Hm. No wonder you were collecting these so much. They were meant to suppress your heat. Still, you didn't need the flowers now that he was here to assist you. He snatched the flower from your hand. You whined as he took it away.

Orion resumed teasing your body. His finger stopped at the base of your tail. He wrapped his fingers around it, following its length until the tip. He marveled at the flexibility of your tail as it wrapped around his arm in pleasure. The fur underneath his skin was soft like the blankets in your room.

When his fingers reached the end, he circled them around it and toyed with it. Tiny trembles reverberated through your body. You began to pant more. Drool slipped over the side of your mouth, and a flushed color began to paint your skin.

"Does it feel good? Am I a good boy helping you?"

"Nooooo. Stop. No touch," You babble incoherently.

"Hm? It doesn't feel good here. I'm so sorry. Let me try somewhere else." Orion apologized teasingly while he nibbled on your ear.

His finger began to trail down lower from your tail. Gently, he pried your legs apart. He slowly slipped his finger inside you. You writhed when Orion pushed it in. Your tail curled up, and your eyes glazed over in pleasure.

Your hole was wet as it ached for him. It wrapped around his finger as he pushed in and out of it. Wet slick coating the entire finger. The sensation of your hole was exhilarating with the pressure around it as he added another finger. As his fingers curved inside you, the feeling intensified around him. He shivered in bliss as your back arched, trying to make the fingers go in deeper.

Your voice echoed through the cave. He listened as you mewed out small chirps and cries. He adjusted your head and began to suck on your tongue. Greedily, he relished the taste of your mouth. The taste of your mouth was so sweet, like honey. It brought him pure bliss, and he was almost ready to explode.

His cock ached and was sore inside his pants. He began to grind on your back, desperate for release. He lapped at your tounge and it felt like he'd drank ambrosia from the gods. Every drop dripped from his mouth straight into his very essence. He couldn't take it anymore as he rubbed himself into your back.

Suddenly, you ripped your lips off of him. A throbbed headache resounded as you pushed him on the floor. His fingers leave your tight hole.

He watched you get on top of him. You sat on top of him, and your tail pinned his hands to the ground. You tore off his pants. His cock managed to spring free. He moaned as you tried to sit down on him. Your body desperately tries to take his entire length. You shifted and shuffled in various directions, trying to make it fit.

Finally, your walls managed to take him in. You slicked up his dick with your nectar and pushed it inside yourself deeper. He groaned at how tight you were inside. It almost felt suffocating. Still, he adored the way you devoured him, and was still ravenous for more.

"Can I finish inside you? Please, please, please, let me," Orion begged as you moved your hips, "You feel too good. I'll do whatever you want. Just let me finish in you."

"No. Ri, not listen to me. Bad boy today." You said through gasps.

You leaned down and bit his neck as punishment for even asking that. Something in him broke. He knew it was too soon. You just put it inside, and he wanted to fill you up.

He tried to listen and hold back. However, the image of you full of him pushed him over the edge. Your belly filled with him to the brim. Your sweet slick mixed with his salty seed. Your delicate skin is stained with his dirty white liquid. Afterward, you'd lift yourself up and spill the extra fluid your hole couldn't contain.

A slight whine escaped your lips as Orion made his fantasy a reality. He painted your walls white and moaned as you took it all in. He couldn't help it. Listening to you call him a bad boy while riding him was too much.

"I'm sorry for not listening to you today. Let's do it again, and I'll listen to you this time. Okay?"

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sorrowsofsilence · 3 months

Text

Diagnosis

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Smut (18+, fingering, female!receiving), PnV pls wrap it b4 u tap it, male!recieving, choking, doctor x patient (uncomfy situation so pls don't read if the idea of a doctor being unethical isn't your vibe- it is also not my vibe but yk, Dr. Davis can do anything to me lol)

Prompt: You had no idea your past highschool school hook-up would be your substitute doctor during your annual check-up; but let's just say you were in desperate need of a physical.

Author note: LOL I AM GOING TO HELLLLL - but also I've seen so many Dr. Davis ideas I had to create one myself; so thank you to especially (@valiantroeagleangel) whose work inspired me. You are wonderful. And shout out to some sexy phrases by @loveisanimaginarydagger3000 - I’m weak

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch

(I wasn't sure who I should tag, and if you would like to be tagged in one-shots please let me know! If you’d like to me to remove you as well pls also let me know!! I just took some tags that I've had in past one-shots, and those I think would enjoy! <3)

You picked at your fingernails nervously as you sat in the waiting room, your leg bouncing up and down rapidly.

Something about Doctors’ offices always made you nervous, especially when it involved a doctor that wasn’t your own. You were getting a routine check-up and your first pap smear, scheduled with your regular doctor, but she had a last-minute family emergency. This meant you were going to be inspected by someone else, and that thought made you slightly uneasy.

You played with the mask that covered your nose, pinching at the metal band that rested on the bridge before tugging at the string.

The old woman next to you watched your anxious wading with curious eyes, and you simply shifted in your seat, avoiding her gaze.

Your name was finally called and you followed the nurse, allowing her to check your height, and then leading you into a room located at the end of the hall.

She sat you down, your legs crunching beneath the paper as she placed the blood pressure bump along your arm, squeezing until it tightened and let go.

“Your blood pressure seems to be a little high?” She said, eyebrows furrowing.

You rubbed your hands nervously between your thighs, “I’m just a little anxious.”

Her eyes smiled, indicating a soft grin beneath the mask she wore, “You’ll be just fine. Dr. Davis is a fantastic doctor.”

His name rang off her tongue, piquing your interest. Davis. You knew someone with that last name in high school.

“You can take your mask off in here by the way. Just set it on the side.” She nodded before leaving and you sat there for a few more moments, nervously shifting in your seat.

After a few minutes, you heard a soft knock on the door and you sat up straight, anticipating the man who would be taking care of you today.

The door opened and a man with soft chestnut hair that fell slightly in front of his face walked in, thin-framed glasses sat promptly on top of his nose, covered by a black mask. He hadn’t looked up from the clipboard that was in his hands as he kicked the door closed with his foot gently, tattooed fingers holding up the top page as his eyes skimmed rapidly over the words.

“How’s it going? I’m Dr. Davis.” His voice fell from his lips in a firm but gentle tone and your eyes widened in surprise as you remembered the faint lisp at the end of his ‘s’, and the twang in his accent.

“Hi,” you whispered as you absorbed his image, eyes skimming over his white coat that draped down his long body. The light-blue button-up sat tightly against his neck. You swallowed gently at the ink that crawled just above the collar, sinched between a black tie traced with binary code as the pattern.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” He asked with a curious tone, gaze immediately leaving the page as his orbs met your own, and your heart raced as his ochre eyes bore into yours.

His professionalism dropped slightly as his eyes skimmed over your face in recognition, and your lips parted slightly. He stood still, frozen in remembrance before he coughed, setting the clipboard on the counter and taking a seat next to his computer.

Noah Sebastian Davis is your doctor.

He immediately avoided your gaze as your face began to warm, and you crossed your legs, feeling vulnerable under his authority as he sat there, distracting himself with his computer.

Your high school hookup is your doctor.

“Well,” He began typing, a soft waver barely evident in his voice, “It’s been a long time.”

“Thirteen years,” You licked your lips quickly, smiling shyly as you stared at your legs, glancing up every so often to steal a look at your doctor. You felt even more nervous than before as the man who sat in front of you eventually turned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he watched you intensely.

“Look, let’s just keep this professional. If you’re more comfortable with someone else I can get another doctor in here.” He said monotonously, leaning over his lap as his elbows rested on his knees.

You mustered a small smile as your chest hammered, eyes grazing across the tattoos embedded into his fingers Memories of the way they used to dance along your skin left your stomach swirling.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind…” Your thoughts trailed off as you looked at the ground, “if you don’t mind?”

Dr. Davis maintained strict eye contact, his voice proper and fixed, “It’s my job to remain professional and competent. I strive for nothing but efficiency, and I’ll have you in and out Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Miss,” You corrected quietly, picking at your nails again.

Something flashed across his eyes at the realization, and your ears flushed as you adjusted yourself on the examination table.

He turned on the chair again, fingers tapping on the keyboard.

“Let’s go through some medical history to clarify things under your files. It seems you usually have Dr. Thomas, am I correct?”

You hummed in confirmation, nodding along.

“Any health concerns to bring up in your visit today?”

You shook your head, “Just a routine check-up and a pap smear.”

Dr. Davis nodded along, shifting in his seat at the mention of a pap, his hand reaching to pull against his collar as if loosening the tension that was building within the room.

“Any issues regarding mental health?”

You shook your head.

“Eating and drinking well?”

You nodded.

“Any allergies?”

You shook your head.

“Sexually active?”

You noticed his voice hither slightly, as he glanced over at you briefly, before fixating his eyes on the computer again.

“Not like, regularly.”

He shifted in his seat, nodding.

“Multiple partners?”

“Uhm,” you began to stutter nervously at his questions, “A few. Not frequently changing.”

It was a routine check-up, you reminded yourself. Doctors asked these questions.

You shrugged, eyes skimming up towards him again as his eyes bore into you once again, your abdomen clenching as his gaze darkened.

“How many since me?”

You coughed, caught off guard as you stared at him in disbelief, “P-pardon?”

He didn’t repeat the question, but instead continued typing, clicking away at your file.

“Three,” You then said, watching him carefully and he hummed in response.

“Anything else you think I should know?” He asked, returning to his cool, professional composure.

You shook your head again, watching as his chest heaved slowly as he stood up. He grabbed the stethoscope that hung around his neck, and you watched as he placed the ends in his ears before standing in front of you, maintaining a distance.

“Let me check your lungs… can you take your jacket off?” He asked, watching you carefully as you peeled off the layer, placing it to the side.

Dr. Davis then sat next to you on the examination table and your heart began to pick up pace at the proximity of his body, his cologne melting into your senses.

His shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned behind you to place the end of the stethoscope on top of your back.

He asked you to take in a deep breath, and you inhaled swiftly, attempting to exhale in a slow, controlled pattern; but the breath that left your lungs was shaky and uneven.

“Sorry,” you whispered, and he ran the stethoscope across your back again, this time placing it underneath your shirt, the cold metal causing a shiver to run down your body.

“Three more,” He asked gently and you obliged, each breath faltering again as your heart raced.

There was no doubt he could hear the thump of your heart pick up as his warm fingers gently skimmed your skin as he controlled the stethoscope; knowing how nervous his proximity made you.

He pulled away, staring at your flushed face before leaning behind you to grab an ear otoscope.

“Just going to check your ears,” he said as his warm hands pulled along your ear, his warm breath creating goosebumps along the skin in your neck as the hairs stood up.

Your stomach butterflied as he then grabbed a wooden popsicle stick, standing in front of you now, placed between your legs.

“open,” he commanded and you obliged, sticking out your tongue and making an ‘ah’ sound.

Dr. Davis held underneath your chin to look up at him as he placed the wood on top of your tongue, pressing down slightly. Your abdomen clenched as a rush of emotions ran through your body, making eye contact with the tattooed doctor as he stared back, not even looking at the back of your throat as your mouth was agape, open widely for him.

You wanted nothing more than to reach up and pull against the fabric of his mask, greedily wanting to expose his lips to see the rest of his face and smile, to see how handsome he had gotten with age.

Your chest heaved as his fingers slid from underneath your chin, trailing down your throat with firm but gentle fingertips, the tension between you building as seconds passed by. He pulled back his hand, along with the popsicle stick, and your mouth closed slowly as he took a step back.

As he turned from you, the way he slid his hand into his pocket to readjust himself didn’t go unnoticed, before he faced you again, nodding curtly.

“I’ll let you get undressed from the waist down. You can place this blanket over yourself, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He averted his gaze as he opened the door, closing it gently behind him.

You let out a breath as your mind began to race. The way your mind kept tracing back to years of messing around with him in high school sent your stomach into a lustful spiral, the warmth of his inked fingers relighting years of memories he engraved into your skin.

Noah had given you years of orgasms, some of the best you ever had. None of your other lovers had compared to him, and your body knew this, sparking complete excitement at his presence once again.

You shifted on your feet embarrassed at this, peeling off your jeans as you folded them neatly on the chair. You slid off your black panties, placing them on top of your pants before lying down on the bed, the cool air causing you to shiver.

Or perhaps, it was the fact Noah was going to be extremely close to your intimate space after so many years of deprivation.

You two hooked up on and off for years during adolescence, never forming a relationship beyond that; even though you always wanted to.

You always had feelings for Noah, but you knew he wanted nothing more than to fuck you senselessly, and then part ways. No strings attached.

After high school graduation, you two parted, never speaking to each other again. You had always wondered what he had gone off and set to do, and being a doctor was honestly the last thing you’d think he’d do. Noah had always been extremely smart, but it still came as a complete shock when he was the one who walked through that wooden door just fifteen minutes prior.

You covered yourself with the thin blanket and a moment later Dr. Davis came through the door again, glancing at your exposed legs before turning to grab a pair of gloves from the counter.

You watched him intensely as he pulled the latex over his fingers, almost drooling at the thought of them running along your folds. You shook away the thought, knowing that you would be completely dripping by the time he would be sitting between your legs, examining you.

The last thing you wanted was for him to know the effect he still had on you, even after all these years.

He made eye contact with you again, tugging at the tie around his neck once again as he took the chair, rolling it to the edge of your feet. Before sitting he pulled out the stirrups.

“You can rest your heels on here,” He pointed to the plastic, and you noticed how his ears began to flush red, his chest rising and falling quickly as he glanced into your eyes once again.

When he looked away you glanced down at his black slacks, swallowing harshly at the bold outline of his erection that was extremely evident, through his tight pants.

You swallowed as you slowly lifted your legs, exposing yourself to the man who now sat at the end of the bed, the thin blanket sliding down your thighs gently, leaving your body on display for Dr. Davis.

“Fuck.”

The word was barely audible. He had whispered it so quietly through gritted teeth, but you still managed to hear the four-letter word, and it sent another rush of warm lust through your body.

“I-I’m just going to examine you before inserting the speculum.” Dr. Davis’ professional tone faltered briefly, and you wanted to look down at him so badly.

You knew that he was aroused, but you had no idea how badly Noah wanted to tear into your pussy right then and there.

For years Noah wondered what happened to you. After years of dedication to med school, he didn’t have much time to form relationships, and he usually had a quick fuck here and there to tie over his cravings. He reminisced frequently about how good you felt wrapped around his cock, all of his past flings never making him feel quite how you did.

This morning when he agreed to substitute at the clinic he had no idea what to expect. You were the last thing he thought would happen, and the second he read your name on that piece of paper as he entered your room he felt his mind begin to spiral.

How was he supposed to remain professional around you?

His biggest regret was never pursuing anything further with you years ago, worried that if feelings got involved he would lose the best thing he ever had. In turn, he fucked himself over in the end, because he had lost you either way; but now, you were right here in front of him, naked and on display.

The second he saw you sitting on the exam table he felt an immediate rush to his pants, his mind racing as he began to sweat, the room suddenly feeling stuffy and tight. He couldn’t help but watch your lips as they parted when you talked, memories of them wrapped around himself as your tongue slid up and down his length leaving him unable to concentrate as he attempted to read your file.

He watched as you shifted nervously in front of him when he checked your lungs, heart racing rapidly under his touch. He wanted to rip your thighs apart, slipping his fingers into you, wanting to leave you begging.

Noah wanted to pull his name from your lips; leaving you worshiping him, needing him.

He kept reminding himself that he was a professional now and that it was unacceptable to push the boundary of client-patient professionalism. There was a code of conduct and ethics he was required to follow; but he wanted to forget years of practice, just to get a taste of you.

You lay there, trying to keep your heavy breathing quiet; but you immediately gasped as one of his covered fingers spread you open, barely touching your skin, afraid to go further.

You closed your mouth tightly, biting the inside of your cheek as you scolded yourself.

Don’t fucking moan, don’t fucking moan. He barely touched you.

“I’m going to insert the speculum now,” He said quietly, and you heard him whisper another sentence to himself, “God, you don’t even need lube…”

You knew that he knew how turned on you were by just his presence alone, and you closed your eyes as Dr. Davis inserted the plastic into your body, the feeling of fullness causing you to chew on your bottom lip.

Dr. Davis clicked the hinges as the speculum opened you up, and you covered your mouth with your hand, something Noah had noticed.

“Are you in pain?” He asked gently, and you shook your head.

“N-no, I-I’m okay.”

He hummed again, and it was quiet for a moment.

There was a lack of movement for a second until you felt a gloved finger brush across your clit slowly, and you furrowed your brows in anticipation.

Fuck, that had to be an accident, right?

You tried to think rationally about the situation, but your thoughts trailed to dirty places, silently pleading that Dr. Davis would press against your intimacy again.

Noah had listened for your reaction as he sat before your legs that held you splayed open for him, his mind battling. He swallowed hungrily.

You felt his fingers brush against you again and your thighs jolted to his touch, before you felt the pad of his finger press firmly against you, tracing small circles as he tried drawing a moan from your lips.

Your mouth fell open in satisfaction as your body clenched, Dr. Davis’ fingers rubbing faster and faster.

You couldn’t help it as a gentle whimper crawled from your chest, and with furrowed brows, you bucked your hips into his touch; giving him the permission he desperately wanted.

You felt the speculum being removed, and seconds later a wet swipe trailed up along your folds.

“Oh my god,” You whispered and Dr. Davis hummed, his lips latching onto your sweet spot before two gloved fingers slid into you, curling upwards.

You began to moan again, pulling the blanket away to see the brunette devouring your body. He looked up at you with lustful eyes, his mask pulled underneath his chin.

You ogled upon seeing his entire face, brows furrowed with desire as he remained stone cold.

“If you moan loudly one more time I’ll stop.” He said as he began licking your body once again, eyes fixated on your own.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?” He said, pulling his mouth away as he continued to pump his fingers in and out rapidly, taking his thin glasses off and placing them on the table.

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised, burying himself between your legs again in famish, devouring you feverishly with complete craving.

Your legs began to shake from his praise and you covered your mouth with your hands as your hips pushed into Dr. Davis’ touch, completely engulfed with euphoria.

You didn’t know that he was palming himself through his slacks as he ate you out, desperate for friction, desperate for you to be the one touching him instead.

“Cum.” He demanded, and in a second his tongue swiped along your folds you felt the knot that he built release, elation washing through you as you choked back a desiring cry.

Your free hand gripped Dr. Davis’ hair as you pulled him closer, rubbing yourself along his face as he ate you until it became too much, pushing him away.

He stood up, mouth agape and wet from your release as you watched him with yearning, both your chests heaving.

He hastily began pulling off his white coat, throwing it to the floor as you watched him loosen his tie. Sitting up you beckoned him over and his fingers gripped your throat, pulling you towards him as his forehead rested against your own.

You looked into each other’s eyes as unspoken words danced between you, both of you needing each other but too afraid to speak.

He held you firmly for a moment before pulling your lips to his own, kissing you completely with need and hunger, forcing you to taste yourself

You groaned quietly into his lips as your tongues ran along each other, your fingers shaky as you began unbuttoning his blue dress shirt.

His fingers tightened around your neck as your hands trailed to the hem of his black pants, tugging at his waistband as you pulled apart his belt, sliding the zipper down slowly.

He moaned softly as your fingers slid along his abdomen, threatening to dip in to grab where he needed you.

“You’re in no position to tease princess, remember that,” He squeezed your neck again as he towered over you in authority, and you smiled.

“This is wrong.”

“So wrong.” He mumbled before kissing you in desperation again, your minds fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.

Dr. Davis’ hands pulled your shirt over your head as he pulled back, taking in the image of your exposed body, ready for him.

His covered fingers found their way to your core once again, slipping in and out as you pulled down his underwear, his body hard and ready to devour you.

You licked your fingers, smiling up at him as he watched with lustful eyes, before grabbing hold of his erection, pumping up and down as he thrust into your hand in eagerness. He pulled his fingers in and out of you quickly, your mouth falling open as you watched each other, pleasing one another.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Dr. Davis pleaded, and you opened your thighs farther.

“That’s it… Wider,” He whispered, before pulling his hands away from you, wrapping them around himself as he positioned his body to yours.

Dr. Davis didn’t hesitate any longer before he pushed into you, a loud whimper leaving you. His eyebrows furrowed angrily as his gloved hand covered your mouth, pushing you back into the wall.

“Be fucking quiet,” He said through gritted teeth, his chest heaving as he continued to thrust into you, filling your body, claiming you as his own.

He tore into your skin with his motions, the feeling of him pulling out before pushing back in deeply causing your legs to clench shut. He pushed them open with the hand that wasn’t covering your mouth.

“I said to spread them,” He scolded, fingers digging into your thigh before he slapped the top of your intimacy, earning a yelp from you as your body jolted from the contact.

He remained cold and composed, attempting to keep up his professional facade that was beginning to crumble before you. His eyes squeezed shut as he pushed your thighs back towards your chest, opening you as he fucked your body with possession.

You watched his head tilt back, exposing the tattoos on his neck as his lips fell open in complete satisfaction.

Your body felt perfectly wrapped around him, years of need ready to release into you.

Dr. Davis wanted to flip you over so you stood in front of him, one leg lifted onto the bed as he gripped your ass and pounded you; but he knew that right now, he needed to watch your face contort in pleasure for him, from him.

Your body clenched around him, “Dr. D-Davis,” You whimpered, still trying to remain quiet so as to not be heard by the rest of the clinic.

“Noah,” the brunette growled, bringing you into a kiss and you nodded, murmuring his name back to him against his lips in a plea.

He was close to his release, but he held back, waiting to pull another orgasm from you before he would bring you to your knees, ready to cum down your throat.

“You can do it, that’s a good girl.” He praised and you melted at his words, letting go as he thrust into you one more time, your body completely enveloping him as your mouth was covered by his hand once again to mask your screams. Your body shook through the orgasm Noah offered you.

He slid in and out slowly, before pulling away. His fingers were threaded through your hair as he guided you to the floor, placing you on your knees.

You took him into your mouth mercilessly, sucking and bobbing along his length before he gripped your face, pulling you closer.

You gagged along him, tears forming as a deep growl rumbled from his chest, signalling he was close.

Seconds later Noah’s release coated the back of your throat, and you swallowed his orgasm, looking up at him in commitment.

“You’ve always been mine to ruin,” He said, panting as he pulled you off of him, and you sat on the ground, smiling up at him.

The two of you got dressed in silence, the hormones lingering in the air as he pulled off the gloves, grabbing his prescription notepad and a pen.

“I wasn’t able to get a good enough sample to send off to the lab,” He said, scribbling away, “I’ll need you to meet me at my office this weekend.”

Dr. Davis handed you the note and you looked at the paper, staring at the phone number and address as he nodded toward you, opening the wooden door and leaving the office.

hshshgsghshghsshgh ok i am a mess

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