#drabble sized but I’ll make it up to you

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you make jungkook’s world spin and you tend to… make him a little too dizzy.

> idol!jungkook x reader / est. relationship, fluff, angst / word count: 7k

> content/warnings: yea shirtless jungkook should be a warning… one (1) spank then he kisses it better, also gives a kiss to that lil bow on oc’s undies >:( + a flashback of oc crying and him getting stressed out bcs oc is a careless brat fr

> in which masterlist!

note: hehe i’m here <3 this drabble is basically just oc in a mood and jungkook being the sweetest bf ever 🤨 idk how it got this long either heh it didn’t feel that way at all while i wrote-edited? but i hope u enjoy and i’d love to hear ur thoughts 🥺 reblogs/feedback are appreciated !! <3

—

“oh my god- fuck!”

you cover your mouth in shock, squeezing your eyes shut and flinching at the ear-splitting sound that bounces off the walls of the apartment.

jungkook is rendered frozen, eyebrows furrowed and jaw slacked, staring down at his shirt largely stained by the chocolate milk you were walking around with after brunch.

“damn…”

his eyes are irritable when they communicate with yours.

“baby! really? did it have to be the white one?”

but seconds later, they become worried and calculating — wandering all over the tiled floor, and then your bare feet infront of his slides-clad ones, surrounded by shattered pieces of ceramic.

the collateral damage. an unforeseen tragedy.

suffice to say, jungkook woke up this morning blissfully unaware of the turbulent storm threatening to make a playground out of your mind. it’s craving to feed destruction, and here he is living with you under the same roof, an unfortunate casualty from your antics.

the hand-painted mug, wet from the condensation, slipped away from your hands when you accidentally collided with his tough build at the intersection of the living room and the kitchen. this… wasn’t part of the plan. the plan was a little spill and this is a landslide.

“that was expensive too.” you utter wistfully, chest deflating as you release an exasperated breath. “sorry. i’ll clean up everything. just stay there and i’ll- when did i last see the broom-”

his doe eyes grow two times its size when you start looking around the apartment in search of the broom, and perhaps something you can use to pat yourself and jungkook dry, causing your feet to unconsciously shift on the treacherous ground.

“ba-baby! don’t move! you’re going to hurt yourself. are you crazy?” he interrupts you with a hiss, voice stern as his hands curl around your arms to hold you steady. “it’s okay. this is nothing, i’m not mad… just stay still, understand?”

you nod slowly as he lets go, eyebrows knitting together to convey confusion when he starts pulling his shirt over his head, revealing miles of bare skin and planes of defined muscles on a perfect silhouette. perfect because it’s jungkook.

alright… to see him half-naked wasn’t one of your intentions, but you’re definitely not one to complain.

“tsk, i think i need to shower again.”

figuring that the internet has a solution to every problem one could think of, jungkook has decided to accept the horror that has happened to his shirt. what was it again? salt? vinegar? baking soda? powder? fuck it, he’ll search for it later.

he throws caution to the wind by using it to wipe his damp torso, brushing it over his tan skin glistening with a sheen of the liquid that you wittingly spilled. he winces at the uncomfortable stickiness that could be felt across his stomach, but he can’t help but to laugh when he sees how it further accentuated his abs.

and if only you were in a chipper mood today, you would be laughing along with him. would’ve taken over cleaning him up, apologized with a kiss on his waist. too bad you’re not.

eventually, he gives up on erasing on the feeling, proceeding to fold the shirt in halves.

“what are you doing?” you snap, putting on a guise of harsher irritation over your dreamy stares at your boyfriend’s glorious physique. “are we just supposed to stand here forever like idiots?”

“what is this? why are you so grumpy today?” he questions with a frown, patting your cheek with the soft cottony fabric because the splash managed to reach your face unbeknownst to you.

and then he bends down to place the folded shirt infront of your feet, looking up to you with his galaxy-filled eyes to say, “here- come on. stand here while i clean up.”

you stand isolated on the safe zone he created, childishly pouting with your arms crossed over chest as you wait for him to pick up your slippers in the bedroom.

the simple answer to jungkook’s question is you’re bored and in a bad mood. the more complex answer would be you came up with a one-man game you can only win if you successfully piss your boyfriend off, but you’re too scared to pull off anything that will legitimately make him upset with you.

because the last time you made him angry, it hasn’t been… that long ago. he’s been keeping a closer eye on you since then, and you’ve been trying to be good. keyword being trying. after all, you did lost his car key… at a beach three hours away from home. you searched the entire shore — retraced your steps, made your knees and palms bleed digging through the rocky sand, curled up by the waves to wallow in self-blame and the smell of salt-air defeat. you were nearly in tears as you listened to the call ring for what felt like an eternity, unsure if he already wrapped up the company meeting he mentioned to you the day before.

you still remember the desperate words you greeted him with instead of ‘hello’.

“babe, promise me you won’t be mad.”

—

“____, you didn’t even tell me you were coming here! care to explain that to me first? huh?”

your name, and not ‘baby’? heavens above have mercy; you’re fucked.

jungkook presses the heels of his palms over his eyes to alleviate the dull throbbing of his head, breathing heavily to compose himself, but he can’t disguise the frustration deeply embedded in his voice.

“you scared me!”

not yelling, but tone evidently very upset with you. somehow, that makes you feel worse.

“i had to make up an excuse infront of everyone and drive here fast. i was so worried of you being here all alone when it gets dark!”

“it’s your car so i thought i had to let you know right away. i’m sorry.” you chew at your bottom lip anxiously, eyes brimming with tears as you barely muster up the courage to observe how he’s handling this.

your heart pounds louder in your chest when he finally looks down at you, guilty and gloomy, sat on a wooden bench painted yellow. it drops to your stomach when you see the sullen expression painting his face a light shade of red.

“where did you lose it?”

you open your mouth, but no words come out. you can only manage to point at the shore with your disoriented eyes, and he traces the direction with his. the majestic orange sky where the sun descends below the horizon fails to be recognized by your foggy, distracted minds.

it’s silent for a few beats, then he huffs, breathing out a sarcastic chuckle before burying his face in hands.

“baby, please. please. are you sure you’re not pranking me right now?”

“no! do you think i’d joke like this? i really tried my best to find it!” you sniffle, roughly wiping away the lone tear that escapes your eye. you’re almost too humiliated to continue talking, volume falling a few notches above a whisper. “but the waves were getting stronger.”

he vehemently shakes his head, rendered speechless and stuttering, malfunctioning. he doesn’t think he has ever imagined this type of scenario before. “this is crazy. really… this is unbelievable… how did this even happen?”

he exhales loudly before removing his hands, revealing a calmer exterior. be that as it may, his skin is more flushed, all the way to his ears and down to his neck, where his veins have become noticeably prominent.

“i mean, what else can we do about it? i’ll request for a new one.”

“but are we just going to leave the car here?”

“did you leave anything in there?”

“i left my bag, but…” you pat the pockets of your skirt to check if your valuables didn’t meet the same fate as the car key. “i brought my phone and wallet with me.”

he nods. “then i’ll call a towing service.”

you pout.

“it’s such a bother.”

feeling exhausted after burning a concerning amount of energy in search of the missing item, you stand on wobbly feet to loop your arms around his waist.

maybe it’s to coax him into forgiving you. maybe it’s to make yourself feel better, nuzzle your face on his chest to drive away the anxiety weighing on your shoulders. but as it’s being lifted off, so is the barrier withholding your salty tears.

“i’m so careless. i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i should’ve drove my car instead.”

“ye- no, that’s not…” he cuts himself off with a sigh.

he puts an arm around you, pushing his hair back and repeatedly carding his fingers through it out of habit.

“seriously, baby… you stress me out so much, do you know that? you’re always wandering around places you’re not familiar with… this is secluded. it’s dangerous. you could get hurt if you bump into the wrong people… really, i’m just relieved it’s not yourself that you lost this time!”

the recollection of old flashbacks playing in his mind like a movie reel elicits a throaty chuckle from him, low and rough, the vibrations of his chest rudely awakening the butterflies in your stomach.

“you couldn’t even send me a text. you didn’t turn on your location. i would’ve lost my fucking mind again… did you even thought of that? or is that what you wanted, huh? baby? you enjoy driving me crazy like this?”

and the confession tucked inside his scolding obliterates any coherent thoughts in your head, causing you to lose control of your whirlwind of emotions.

“this isn’t fair. you said you won’t be mad.” you wail out in response, tears fiercely leaking from your eyes akin to a rainstorm. “i didn’t know this would happen!”

he clicks his tongue, gingerly caressing your wet cheeks with his thumb, then with the rest of his fingers, and the paw of his jacket, because the streams just seem to have no plans of ceasing. his wide eyes worriedly scans your tear-stained face, heart squeezed painfully by the restrained sobs forcefully ripping themselves from your throat.

“shhh, shh. don’t cry- don’t cry. i’m not mad, i was just worried about you.”

“jungkook, you’re lying.” you whine. “don’t lie to me. i don’t like it.”

he slowly blinks at you, head hanging low as to compose his thoughts before he reconnects with your eyes. a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips before his tongue unconsciously sweeps over them, its tip catching the silver ring piercing through his skin to play with it.

a moment of silence, thick with restlessness and anticipation, harder to breathe with the unique smell of the salt-air entering and leaving your lungs.

you feel small under his stoic gaze. you want to sit back down and cry harder.

your boyfriend is mad. your boyfriend is infuriatingly hot even when he’s disappointed in you. you need to dig a hole in the sand and live there forever. after everything, these are the only thoughts left running in your head.

“okay, fine. you lost the key of our car in the ocean, ____. but what if someone already found it by chance?” he cocks his head to the side, briefly peering at the road behind you.

he knows that it’s no use. even if he does see the white jeep wheeling by, is he supposed to assume that he can outrun it by some heaven-granted miracle?

“what then? hm…? what else can we do? i guess it could be getting stolen right now and we don’t even know. you parked so far away.”

god, please, not your favorite car.

“it’s not only the car. i still have important documents left in the compartment too.” this only dawns on him now, judging by the look of distress written on his face. he suddenly slaps his thigh, and you flinch a little. “fuck! i should’ve cleaned sooner!”

“then you are mad.” you arrive at a conclusion, chin wobbling as you sniffle. “about a lot of things.”

you resist the urge to stomp your feet. you want to throw a tantrum so bad. tell him that he shouldn’t be keeping such things in the car in the first place, that he owns a safe for fuck’s sake, but you know you can’t get away with shifting the blame because you messed up horribly in comparison.

“i get it. i’m sorry… i take full responsibility this time.”

“shit, baby.” he deeply sighs.

it becomes quiet again. he just looks at your face with knitted eyebrows, not saying anything more, and you try your best to cut off your crying, not to act conscious, but your eyes still fall on the sand. they stay there for a few beats to avoid the intensity of his gaze.

he almost sounds pained when he finally speaks. “how can i stay mad at you when you’re crying?”

he tilts up your chin, and your glassy eyes, sparkling with a new wave of tears, look at him beseechingly.

the setting sun. an eternal witness to a brand new day of humans being humans. it kisses your skin with its golden light, bathing your figure to radiate an angelic glow that drives him to consider once more that you could just be an enchanting character across dreams and the year is still 2017.

you sniffle again, brushing off his hand. sometimes you despise that jungkook brings out messiest, most unstable side of you. you know that he practically signed up for this, and he will always love you the same, love you even more. but that doesn’t take away the fact that you’re so embarrassed.

“but i’m not crying just to make you feel bad, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“yah, that wasn’t what i meant?” he frowns, eyes softening at your reply. “of course. i know that.”

the cracks in your voice, he seals with a soft kiss on your lips, tender and swollen caused by the onslaught of your sharp teeth.

“anyway, i can take care of replacing it. i mean, it’s not like it can get stolen just like that, right…?”

he sounds rather nervous convincing the both of you.

“but i’m most worried about you. i can lose everything but you.” his tattooed arm pulls you closer, casting aside the tension by leaving not even an inch of space between your bodies. he tenderly rubs your back to console you, and another kiss is granted to your temple, his soothing voice slightly muffled as his lips stay glued to you. “did i make you cry? i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry… it’s okay. things like this can happen.”

“no, i’m sorry.” you aggressively shake your head and he carries on with wiping your cheeks, the back of his hand brushing off the tears that drip across your chin. he dries his hand on the hem of his jacket only to get it wet all over again.

“let’s just learn from this and move on. promise me that you’ll be more careful next time, okay? you can do that, right?”

jungkook does scold you every now and then, but although you stress him out, he would hate it if he’s not the first person you call when you’re in trouble. he would hate it if you act nonchalant and secretly cry when you’re hurt. but most of all, he can’t imagine a life in which you don’t make his world spin, much as he tends to get too dizzy at times.

your defiant hum makes his tense shoulders drop in disappointment.

“there should be a bus stop somewhere, i’ll just go home on my own. i don’t want to keep stressing you out.”

you will yourself to break free from his embrace, dragging yourself away to leave behind a trail of footprints in the sand, and he knows he’ll be running after you today, too.

“oh? you better stop right there!” he warns with a hand over his hip.

you become smaller and smaller in his eyes with every tick of the clock, much like how the sun is gradually getting swallowed by the ocean.

“i’ll get angry for real if you disappear from my sight. really, i’m not joking!”

angry? what a joke. you know that he’d cry blood searching for you if you get lost.

“oh? you’re really not going to stop?!”

jungkook’s voice fall on deaf ears, except that of the dog leashed to a tree that stands infront of a humble home. it seethingly barks at him from many meters away.

“fucking shit. i need alcohol.” he chuckles to himself, rubbing his tired eyes. “____, i swear, you’re getting too stubborn these days. what should i do with you?”

but you’re too far away to hear him, and so, he answers himself.

“eh, it is what it is.”

the wind blows with a quiet whistle, deadly as it fuels the roaring waves.

“AH! nuh-uh!” he exclaims, jaw dropping in alarm when he sees an urgent reason to chase after you, putting those leg days at the gym to good use.

you jump, a squeak leaving your mouth when out of nowhere, a solicitous palm smooths over your behind, sliding down to the back of your thighs to hold down your rippling skirt.

but you’re determined to be unyielding, eyes shooting daggers at jungkook. “leave me alone. i can do it myself.”

“baby, isn’t that a little rude? is that how you say ‘thank you’?”

“thank you. now let’s go our separate ways.”

and just like that, you’re walking away again.

“shit.” he curses quietly through gritted teeth, pulling at his hair. “babe, please come back… i’m sorry! i didn’t mean that!”

—

“jungkook! how many times do i need to tell you to turn off faucet properly?!”

you’re hot on jungkook’s tail as he makes his way to the laundry room beside the kitchen, carrying a laundry basket over his hip. he’s still shirtless, only clad in a different pair of shorts after a quick shower.

“the bathroom sink was close to overflowing! again!”

“i know what you’re doing.”

“what? what am i doing?”

the basket touches the ground, standing beside the dryer, and then he turns to face you, eyebrows shooting up. “picking a fight with me won’t work today.”

“why?” your tone borders on a whine.

“what do you mean ‘why’?” he laughs in jest. “why? why do you want to fight with me so bad?”

“i don’t know.” you exhale loudly, rolling your eyes and shrugging. “just because!”

“well, that’s not very convincing, is it?” he teases you with a grin, proceeding to open the dryer to dump the fresh laundry in the basket. the clothes you wore in the past week once again soaked up the sweet, floral scent the people around you distinctly recognizes to be your own and jungkook’s.

“i know, but i’m done playing now. you’re not hearing me.” you close your eyes in frustration, recounting the other times you had to say these exact words. “you’re going to flood our house.”

“okay, okay. i won’t forget to double-check it from now on. i promise.”

“sure, that’s what you also said last time.” you indignantly scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “i’m not turning it off for you anymore. if we get flooded, i’m leaving you. i’m moving out.”

your threat puts a halt to his movements for a split second before he’s adorably replying in a sing-song voice. “then i’m going with you.”

“no, you’re not.”

and it doesn’t come as a shock to you that jungkook doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

“huh! good luck trying to stop me.” he slams the door of the dryer shut, standing up straight. “it’s not easy getting rid of me. you know that.”

he walks to the middle of the room to get a good view of you at the entrance. with the other resting on his hip, he lies his palm flat over the counter, outstretched arm cascading with varied colors of ink in sharp lines and swirling curves.

fuck, he has to know what he’s doing — flexing his muscles like that, not playing fair.

“aigoo, look at you glaring at me. you want to fight?”

and you’d feel intimidated by his challenging stare, the quirk of his eyebrow, his teeth sinking on his bottom lip… only if he didn’t blink to rake a stare over your body, lingering on your smooth legs that couldn’t be covered by your mere underwear. only if they didn’t flicker back to your face, and only if he didn’t smirk like a lovesick fool.

“so cute.” he chuckles. “you’re totally my type.”

“shut up.” you roll your eyes at the random compliment. “i know, i already get that a lot.”

his smile then fades, not so thrilled with the reminder that it’s so easy to fall in love with you, and therefore anyone would die to take his place. he knows that they hover around you like moths to a flame when he’s not there. well, he really can’t blame them, can he? you’re so fucking attractive.

“what does that mean…? who else is saying it, huh? tell me. i think i have a few guesses.”

“does it matter?” you stare at him blankly, which then turns into a piercing glare. “jungkook! i was just talking about you not paying enough attention. look at you proving me right!”

the stomp of your feet on the floor tells him that you’ve reached a level of frustration near to inducing a flood of tears.

oh, he truly got called out, huh?

“i’m sorry- i’m sorry. i admit that. i’m sorry, my love. i was just joking around. i’m listening well now.” he winces guiltily, beckoning you to be where he is. “come here then.”

“i don’t want to.” you stay rooted in your spot. “who do you think you are?”

“m-me…? i’m your boyfriend. boyfriend!” he points at himself, index finger repeatedly poking his bare chest to emphasize his point. his arm then drops to his side. his doe eyes widen as he breathes out a sigh of disbelief. “oh, i’m really getting upset now?”

you bite back a smile. the sweet taste of victory.

you can’t be the only one, can you?

“aish, i see you’re having your way again.” he chuckles, taking it upon himself to cross the distance between you. his hands find purchase on the curves of your waist, and every nerve in your body turns into a live wire. “let’s just go out today. do you want to practice boxing at the gym with me?”

didn’t he just watch you do arms day this morning? does he think you have the same stamina as him? you make a face of disapproval and shake your head.

“shall we go to a rage room again then? break more stuff?” he playfully sticks his tongue out, and you glare once more.

for the record, you loved that mug.

“boring.”

“and fighting with me is fun?”

you purse your lips into a thin line. “well, it’s not boring.”

“of course.” he laughs, softly squeezing your waist, pads of his thumbs mindlessly tracing shapes over the fabric of your top.

all of a sudden, he’s tugging you closer to envelope you in his embrace, voice slightly muffled as he sweetly talks. “are you mad at me for real? i’m sorry. sorry, sorry, sorry. sorry. i’ll really be more mindful of the things you remind me about, i swear… i don’t like fighting. it breaks my heart when you cry.”

what is this five foot ten man with bulging biceps, tattoo sleeve, and piercings doing here in the crook of your neck — affectionately nuzzling his face on your skin and telling you in a baby voice that he doesn’t like fighting?

you don’t know, but you feel good.

and his bare body is so comfortingly soft and warm.

he draws back for a kiss but his nose and lips only graze your cheek when you turn away, and you don’t see the sadness that flashes across his face.

“so what i’m hearing is… you don’t like fighting with me because i’m too sensitive? is that the truth?”

“no!” he perks up to interject without hesitation, shaking his head. “but i don’t think that’s a bad thing anyway… being sensitive.”

but you admit being a crybaby. you cry when you’re angry.

that’s when jungkook distinguishes the glint of mischief swimming in your irises. he feels dizzy after having his heart drop to his stomach.

“no. no, no.”

his mirthful grin returns, revealing his perfect set of teeth.

“ahh, i’m stressed!” he closes his eyes, throwing his head back, chest puffing up when he breathes in then out. “i knew it. no, i’m not falling for this trap!”

then he flees the room carrying the laundry basket, leaving you doubled over and covering your mouth to silence your giggles of amusement.

“i’m hanging the laundry now!”

“how dare you walk away from me?!”

“you can’t follow me!”

“i’m not.” you scoff, purposely bumping your hips against his. “i’ll vacuum the living room.”

—

“where are you going? gym?” you genuinely begin to sulk, watching your boyfriend slide into a baggy pair of bleached denim pants. “are you leaving me here?”

he avoids your inquiring eyes, ignoring you as he pulls up his zipper and does the button. you pout when he walks further away to pull out a black shirt from the clothing rack.

“is that it? are you tired of me already?”

he tosses its hanger in the basket where you discard the empty ones before wearing the final piece of clothing, covering himself fully for the first time today.

you sigh, feeling dejected. “you don’t love me anymore?”

and jungkook needs to physically restrain himself so he won’t grab your face and say ‘i love you’ over and over again until he runs out of breath.

you leave the closet to follow him to the bedroom, where he sits on the edge of the mattress to put on his socks.

you stand by him, patience quickly running thin. “hello?”

he brushes away the non-existent dirt on the left sock before switching his legs to put on the right one.

“did i turn invisible?”

your eyebrows furrow in disappointment. this isn’t how fighting works. you need a reaction at the very least.

you tug at the sleeve of his shirt, starting to get annoyed, already planning your exit if he continues this act. “you’re hurting my feelings. you’re not even going to look at me?”

he mumbles, and you almost fail to piece his phrase together. “can’t, you’re too pretty.”

his big brown eyes faintly glimmer with hope when he looks up at you, puckering his rose-tinted lips and making kissing sounds.

your sweet and clingy boyfriend, he’s making this too difficult.

a tsunami of affection washes over you, and it becomes impossible for you not to crack at his cheekiness then. “jungkook, you’re impossible!”

atleast he tried to shoot his shot.

“tsk, see? i thought so!” he grumbles, snapping the elastic band on his ankle. “just want one kiss.”

he disappears into the closet again.

he returns not a minute later, unceremoniously placing a white bucket hat on your head before tugging it down to obstruct your vision.

“hey!”

you hastily take it off, scowling at your laughing boyfriend who turns out to be already wearing a black bucket hat of his own.

“you’re bored, aren’t you? let’s go out, have some sun.”

“no.”

you reply exactly as your boyfriend predicted you would.

jungkook captures your wrist to slip his credit card on your palm, folding your fingers over it, but they aren’t enough to hide the black rectangular thing you can use to buy the world with if you wanted to. your amusement spills out as giggles, brighter as he pushes your hand to your chest so you have no other choice but to accept it.

he scrunches his nose, face only inches away from yours as he persuades you with his natural charm. “what if we go shopping, hmm?”

“thanks babe, but i can’t think of anything i want right now.” you sniffle with teary eyes, flipping the card and holding it between your longest fingers as muscle memory takes control.

“then just keep it incase you see something you want.”

he kneels on the floor out of the blue, and you eye him curiously, your fingers automatically tangling with his silky locks before making a loose fist.

“here, put some pants on. hurry-” he presents your pair of faded gray cargo pants.

you tug at his hair lightly, which prompts him to lift his head. you scrunch your nose cutely, giggling. “i’m spoiled.”

“ey, so what if you are?” he brushes off your observation with his satoori accent, blithe tone listing down reasons. “i love you. i worked hard so i can do these things for you. we moved in together so we can take care of each other.”

and you want to cry. you truly do. your face began to feel warm after he said that he loves you, but the tears never make it past your lash line when his big palm lands a loud smack on your ass, skin-to skin.

“but i do think that you are a brat. does that count for something?”

it catches you by surprise, and a scandalized gasp escapes your mouth as you feel the sting spreading across your skin.

“shut up! give that to me.” you roll your eyes, stealing the pants from his grasp.

“see, that’s what i’m talking about.” he chuckles lightheartedly. “get dressed then.”

his fingers dig in the soft flesh of your thighs when he pulls you closer to kiss the tiny little ribbon on your underwear, heart-shaped lips pressed to you so firmly you can trace their outline bleeding through the thin fabric and onto your skin. “mmm-mwah!”

and then you feel them there next, where it still hurts, a softer kiss in comparison to soothe the sting he left behind.

your heart is beating so loud you can feel it in your throat, feeble knees nearly giving away to crash and break.

who does that so casually? who the hell does that?

oh, right… jungkook. of course.

you raise the white flag today.

perhaps he will flood the apartment tomorrow, and you can stay angry longer then.

—

“what’s taking him so long?” you mutter absentmindedly to yourself, lost eyes scanning the park in hopes of getting a glimpse of your boyfriend and his classic jungkook outfit, but he’s still nowhere to be seen.

your sour mood makes a reappearance.

to your credit, taking you out and then asking you to wait here without telling you where he’s going is rude, and you’re lonely and jealous of the couples around you having a picnic. not to mention that the clouds have uncovered the sun and you’re burning.

this scene also leads your brain to wander to those cliche flashbacks in a film or a show where a parent lies to their child that they’ll come back, and then they doesn’t. it’s always, always at some sort of park.

oh, for fuck’s sake, why are you wasting your time giving this a lot of thought?

too bored and antsy to sit still, you finally decide to text jungkook.

to: my baby love

i'm gonna look for food. do you want anything?

orrr is that what you're away buying 😥

WHERE ARE YOU

why didn't you just take me with youuuu

?

please me lonely :(

[sent 1 photo]

a black cat !! is sleeping on my shoes!! 😭

i miss you :(

are you almost done

i hate u

whatever i'm going. call if you still remember that you're someone's bf i guess.

—

jungkook crosses the street like an excited puppy, long pretty hair bouncing as he practically skips his way to the area where he left you to wait.

only to be greeted by a complete stranger.

his radiant beam fades into a hue of confusion.

the bench is now occupied by a woman chugging an energy drink after running laps around the park.

they lock eyes for a split second. he averts his befuddled stare to pretend that nothing happened, walking past her with a bouquet of sunflowers until he settles down two benches away.

he wears his bucket hat again only for him to throw it aside with a sigh, messing with his hair to release his frustration. of course you left. he can only snort to himself while he reads the last message you sent. you’re so cute. he knows you’ve never been keen on having to wait, but he didn’t expect himself to take so long either.

not wanting you to be upset with him another second longer, he instantly decides to call you.

his forehead creases when his phone vibrates, informing him that he typed an incorrect password. he tries again, slow and deliberate, only for the same thing to happen, and he begins to feel nervous.

what the fuck?

okay, calm down, JK. one more time.

he freezes as the same words flash on the screen. his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he feels the irritation bubbling up inside of him.

“why is it like this…? what’s your problem? what am i touching wrong?”

—

you return to the park more carefree than before. since jungkook is god knows where, you decided to have a picnic on your own. you had to buy a new picnic blanket, though. you can’t get the one in the car because he has the key. but just to be petty, you hope that he figured it out from the text notifications he got when you used his card.

oh, there he is looking angrily at his phone.

you halt on your tracks, instantly pulling the brakes on your feet when you recognize your boyfriend from your peripheral vision. you slowly chew the remaining tteokbokki in your mouth.

he’s holding his phone… and he hasn’t called you yet?

“wow, did you seriously forgot about me?”

upon hearing your familiar voice, jungkook’s features soften, not having to squint at the sunlight either because you’ve kindly blocked it with your back.

“where did you even go? i didn’t see you!”

the password-protected device that’s been giving him a headache for the past ten minutes is abandoned in the depths of his pocket.

“baby,” he utters airily as he stands on his feet, reaching out to hold your forearm. “i’m sorry. i took so long, didn’t i…? i went to buy you flowers but they didn’t have tulips anywhere. anywhere. every shop said someone bought all of them!”

he scratches his head with a sheepish grin, revealing the bouquet he’s been concealing behind him.

“i got you sunflowers instead… they-” he points at them, eyes flickering on the bundle of yellow flowers he’s offering as a gift. “they’re not bad. i think they’re pretty too. you like them too, right?”

sunflowers are pretty. after all, it used to be your favorite in middle school, mostly because it’s the first flower you received from an admirer… it was for your birthday and you felt like you died when it withered, heavily on-brand for a young heart drawn to romance. excluding that, everything has changed. it’s a typical saturday and beads of sweat have formed on your lover’s forehead after running around under the sun. you think you can keep them alive longer this time around.

“i like you the most.”

and then he receives his gift in return, that particularly sweet smile of yours he only sees when you’re so giddy.

his heart flutters wildly at your following actions.

“kiss.” you adorably demand, copying his pout earlier when he was asking for a kiss.

but unlike you who left his wish ungranted, he crosses the distance to plant a kiss on your lips. he pulls away a mere three inches, muttering to confront you. “but i thought you hated me?”

“who said that? that wasn’t me.” you feign ignorance, eyes so wide as to mimic being confused. you carefully take the flowers into your embrace, subtly exchanging it with the paper bowl you’re holding. “thank you, baby… here, do you want tteokbokki?”

he goes for the fish cake first, poking it with the stick and popping it in his mouth. you find yourself too absorbed in admiring the sunflowers one by one to sense your boyfriend staring at you, thinking to himself, you’re always worth the effort and this overpriced tteokbokki is pretty damn good.

“i turned on my location like i promised i would. did you see?” you mention without looking at him, acting laidback, still too shy when anything related to the incident is brought up.

he awkwardly smiles. no, he didn’t, unfortunately. he’s still fucking locked out of his phone.

you whimper when he pinches your cheek. “good job, baby.”

—

jungkook removes his head on your stomach to lie down beside you on the red picnic blanket. his hair touches his face and he tucks them behind his ears for the millionth time today.

“will you type my password for me?”

you take his phone without question, putting yours over your chest for the meantime. you successfully unlock it within a second, experienced fingers nimble after years of typing on the daily.

“here.” you hold it out for him without looking, picking up your own phone to continue scrolling through trending topics. however, seconds pass and the heavy weight on your hand has yet to be eased, so you wiggle it to catch his attention. “hey, it’s done.”

he gasps, gaping at you in bewilderment. “how did you do that?”

“you changed it again last night, remember? because i told you our anniversary isn’t a good idea.”

shit, right. he added a new one to the list of passwords that he uses for everything. he totally forgot about that. you’ve taken over every working brain cell that he has in his body.

“baby, this is your fault!” he groans, finally snatching away his phone. “ah- i wanted to throw it away. i didn’t know what was wrong with it. i was seriously so close to crying!”

that bad? was he about to get all his data wiped out? your poor baby. you laugh out loud at his reaction, belly aching as you roll over to wrap your arm around his waist and bury your face on his side.

“anyone can guess it if they try hard enough.”

“but that was the trick, you know? they’d think it’s too easy. they wouldn’t even consider it!”

“that doesn’t mean they won’t try it!”

“ah, i don’t care. i’m changing it back.” he stubbornly pouts, falling back on the blanket.

you want to cuddle. he feels a tug on the sleeve of his shirt and he immediately understands. he allows you to use his tattooed arm as a pillow. it envelopes you entirely when he reaches for his phone to type with both hands, and you automatically snuggle with him closer by resting your head on his chest.

“fine. do what you want, you dummy. you better not leave your phone lying around.” you mutter, heavy eyelids fluttering shut as the wind blows to softly caress your face. “and don’t take more pictures of me sleeping.”

“you’re sleeping? i thought we’re going to the mall.”

“we are. i’m letting you rest before you carry shopping bags.”

“ah- wow. thanks, baby.”

you don’t how much time passes, a minute or ten or more, but falling into a deep sleep proves to be impossible with the cacophony of sounds you’re surrounded with. you’re resting somewhere away from the crowd, but there’s still the hiphop music from a bluetooth speaker, honking of vehicles… and the main culprit, jeon jungkook scrolling through tiktok on your phone and bookmarking videos for you to watch later on. you can hear his giggles louder than his heartbeat, feel them make his body vibrate throughout.

so, you give up. you open your blurry eyes with a tired sigh, blinking to readjust to the brightness. he feels your movements, your nose brushing against his neck, and he squeezes you to his side, dutifully stroking your head to remind you that you’re safe despite being in a public place because you’re with him. you kiss his cheek to show your appreciation.

you end up harmonizing with his giggles when you do decide to join him, nearly tearing up at the sight of a cat riding a motorcycle toy on the screen. a little while later, your fascination is then stolen by fiddling with his tattooed hand — tracing the veins, the lines, the tattoos; pressing the faded heart like it’s a button connected to the beating one in his ribcage; grazing the rough areas of his palm calloused by lifting heavy weights.

and as you do so, you mull over the house by the sea you’re saving up for. how much longer will it take? should you check out more locations? do you tell jungkook? that it’s your back-up plan, a place where no one knows your name, just like how this city once was. it’s where you would run to, where you would build a new life if the time comes that this one falls apart, too. if not, if not, if not, would it be so bad to wake up beside you with an ocean view when he’s sixty?

fuck, you don’t know anymore. it shouldn’t be this hard— not anticipating the worst, but still being prepared for it. you despise being an adult.

you do it absentmindedly, taking off one of your silver rings and slipping it into each of his fingers to see where it would fit best… he knows you’re only entertaining yourself, but feeling it in his ring finger still puts a lump in his throat.

“are you proposing to me?”

“this is your right hand, silly.” you tease your stunned boyfriend, sticking your tongue out. “if you want me, come and get me.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[chamomiletealeaf]

This is just a really horny and filthy drabble about Johnny and his biceps lmfao so MDNI OR I’LL PUT TERMITES IN YOUR BEDSHEETS

Warnings: headlock, size kink, squirting, just really fucking horny I may or may not be ovulating 😵‍💫

Omg Johnny’s biceps. I actually cannot stop thinking about them so I give you this…

Johnny fucking you on the living room couch. He has your face pushed into the cushion, one hand in your hair and the other on your hip.

Then all of a sudden he pulls you up by your hair and pulls you into his lap with your back facing him making you yelp.

“Mm Johnny-“ you whine.

“Shhh bunny I got you. Gonna make this pussy real happy.” He coos with a smirk.

Your back is pressed against him with your thighs draped over his. He’s gripping both of your hips and you grab at his thighs. He’s fucking up into you so good you feel tears of overwhelming pleasure form in your eyes.

Then Johnny wraps his big thick arms around your neck and behind your head putting you into a headlock.

“Fuck Johnny yeah.” You whine in excited anticipation, bringing your hands up to grab his bicep and forearm, barely able to grip them from their size compared to your hands.

He tightens his hold on your head, your face squishing into his thick bicep just enough to restrict your air a little bit and you swear you’ve never been in such ecstasy before.

You’re panting with a fucked out smile on your face bouncing on Johnny’s cock as he continues to fuck up into you.

“Yeah you like that bunny? You like when I wrap my big arms around your throat? No where to go hm? Can feel that cute lil’ cunt of yours tightening around me every time I squeeze you. You’re so fucking cute.” He moans in your ear as his arms hold you in place between his biceps.

You loved how strong Johnny was. He was just so fucking beefy and you wanted him to show you just how strong he really is.

Shouldn’t have challenged him though, because next thing you know he’s got you folded into a Full Nelson, his big hands holding you in place and biceps securing your thighs this time until you’re squirting all over his cock.

Johnny always makes you squirt when he’s got you pinned in place because he just hits that spot over and over so good and there’s nothing you can do about it because you’re pinned so securely. You’re not going anywhere when he’s got you in a hold. Not like you’d want to go anywhere anyway.

[sttoru]

⠀𝝑𝑒 ⠀ DARLING, CAN I BE YOUR FAVORITE?

a series of (separate) fictional stories including true form!sukuna x concubine!reader. these stories take place in the heian era—an era where the king of curses ruled the jujutsu society in terms of power & strength—and focuses mainly on his harem. ྅

note. there are general warnings that are implemented in each piece down below ; size difference, being the main one. for more specific warnings please read the tags on each work.

requests are open, check the req rules on the author’s blog.

status. ongoing, until said otherwise by the author.

ONE SHOTS. I’LL BE YOUR GIRL, LET YOU TASTE IT

sukuna’s favorite concubine’s not-so-hidden jealousy ; sfw to suggestive

trying to break his favorite concubine’s innocence ; nsfw

dealing with harassment from the other concubines ; hurt to comfort, fluff, sfw

claiming ownership over his favourite concubine ; nsfw

letting his favorite concubine try to top him for once ; nsfw

only kissing his favorite concubine and no one else ; sfw

sukuna’s favorite concubine stands up for herself, finally ; sfw

soon: using his favorite concubine as stress relief ; nsfw

soon: teaching his favorite (bratty) concubine some proper manners ; nsfw

DRABBLES. I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT, YEAH, JUST TAKE IT

using his tummy mouth to please his concubine ; nsfw

HCS / OTHER. MY NAME IS WHATEVER YOU MAKE IT

sukuna’s favourite little concubine on her period ; sfw

tba.

CR. STTORU 2024

[harmonysanreads]

Hello !!! I hope you’re doing fine and enjoyed last patch quest! I really really love your writing, and especially like the way you write Ratio,,,,, that yandere Drabble you posted a while ago with Ratio and Aventurine sharing reader has been haunting me in the best ways <33

Since your request are open, could I ask for a one-shot of yandere Ratio and Aventurine? If it’s fine I’ll ask for reader to be shy/introverted but otherwise I’ll leave it up to your inspiration! Maybe about life at home, or visit in Penacony? Maybe they’re tormenting Reader through strip-poker? Maybe Ratio was inspired by the shrinking device and now they’re having fun with their pocket-sized darling? Anything you fancy I’m not difficult, I only ask you have fun!! <3

(I assumed your no-sequel rule only applied to one-shot, I deeply apologise if I was wrong fjekjdksjd)

Inure

yandere!aventurine x reader x yandere!dr ratio

cw(s) : yandere, forced proximity, slight dehumanization (but everything is sauteed in humor so bon appetit ✨)

wc : 1k

hi nonnie!! thank you so much for your sweet words<3 tbh every idea you presented was very enticing and i'll definitely keep them in consideration for later. for now though, i really wanted to write something soft for these two, i hope you don't mind :>

Inconveniences come in many forms.

Some more candid than most, while others lurk in the shadows of carelessness like hyenas ; ready to pounce on the unsuspecting prey at the opportune time. Trouble and tribulation eclipse the course of human life, masquerading as two sides of the same coin. What they are, in truth, a pair of mischievous twins who are always watching, evaluating and trapping their victims in elation-filled jumpscares. It is also true that woes differ based on the individual, some even see fit to opine that the source of misery is the individual themselves.

Your vexations however, are dictated by two idiosyncratic persons with interests as farther apart as two solar systems. Which isn't a lot if one considers the magnificence of the universe, but distanced enough to be the tillable land of your miseries. Said inconveniences usually arrive dressed as revoked privileges, confiscation of entertainment items and... movie nights.

A night where you're supposed to be enjoying a film as a group shouldn't have been such an adversity if the aforementioned individuals respected the bare minimum of being normal. On usual occasions, who you end up accompanying is maintained through a strict schedule as opposed to the much friskier notion of rolling-dices that was favored by a certain blonde (in which he always emerged victorious and was thus declared irrationally imbalanced by Veritas) — but, an unforseen lapse of management and chaos was bred.

In matters that concern you, it seemed as though even the most seamless co-operations failed to reach a simple consensus. So when the erudite Dr Ratio expressed eagerness to spend a ‘relaxing afternoon’ with your person, it clashed quite clamorously with Aventurine's desire to have you participate in one of his many adrenaline-high games. And because of the decrease in release of dopamine that came from being a frequent observer of their arguments, you ended up suggesting this dreadful activity ; Ratio's silent perusal by your left and Aventurine's equally quiet phone browsing by your right are all that remains of the earlier fiasco.

You consider it a shame, because unbeknownst to them, you actually were plotting ways to watch this particular film. But, when at approximately fifteen minutes into the story you realized you were the only one among you three that was paying it any attention at all — you felt, quite blatantly, deflated. Surprisingly though, that was not the main source of your current misery at all, no, no ; what was causing you distress was the deplorable portion of space that they alloted to you from the couch.

At least Ratio has the habit of crossing his legs subconsciously, making your life just a miniscule easier. Unlike Aventurine whose default setting is to be attached to any patch of your skin anytime you're within his radius and when he brings that to the cauldron of being compressed between him and Ratio — it perfectly justifies why you're dancing between the provocative lines of mild annoyance and a meltdown. You'd believe they forgot about your existence altogether if not for Ratio's definitely-not-intentional shifting and the without context headpats from Aventurine.

Their treatment, although (probably) not deliberate, suggest you to be the equivalent of the pampered housecat and if one was to generously point out the expression on your face at present, that allegation would be right.

You stifle a sigh that transitions into a yawn with your only friend in this dreadful world, your plush pillow. The dialogues exchanged by the actors in the movie gradually become unintelligible as your vision morphs into a kaleidoscope of black dots and patterns. You draw your knees closer until they become parallel to your chin, musing a scenario where you lean so into the couch that it swallows your form and hurls you into a wonderland free of covetous hands or hearts. Where you could roam without eyes attached to every move you make and most importantly, where the notion of inconveniences would cease to exist.

You've seen it happen in shows a younger you indulged in and a passing thought makes you smile sardonically ; the world is so bizarre that you've effortlessly found yourself in a situation as complex as your current one but, not bizarre enough to make fantasies such as these a reality. The noises from the screen, Ratio's nonchalant page turning and the fragrance of Aventurine's cologne make your lucidity sway, until darkness cradles you close.

That night, you found yourself having a rather tender dream. In your dream, the blonde promptly busied himself in positioning you more comfortably on his lap upon feeling your slumbering head hit his shoulder. You felt succinctly amused upon the ‘place the pillow under their head, moron!’ that left a certain virtuoso's lips. Said virtuoso, shifted the rest of your body to be rested on his lap with a gentleness that baffled even Aventurine. Some say that dreams are manifestations of the desires that stay stagnant within the crevices of our minds. If that theory holds even a fraction of credence, then the percipience of what your subconscious desires, leaves you feeling as solemn as sated.

By the hour you gain awareness of the waking world again, there is but silence surrounding the living room. Your first blink is followed by a series of more and your sense of feeling works faster before your sense of sight, it sticks quite insistently just above your knees and atop your head. You roll a bit and realize they are in fact the hands of Ratio and Aventurine respectively, holding you away from kissing the floor and cracking your nose. As your vision gains more clarity, you notice the purple-head, supported by the palm of his left hand and the arm of the couch. You rise up and notice Aventurine mirroring Ratio's position, you conclude them both to be asleep judging by their collective inertia despite your movements.

Your eyes shift downwards towards the pillow on which you rested moments before and seeing it positioned exactly atop Aventurine's lap, confirm your suspicions that the scene you witnessed in your sleep had, in fact, happened in reality. Perhaps the universe heard your hopeless plea and bargained it with this speck of generosity.

They really didn't move an inch — but the bubbling warmth was soon pushed down by — as if I was a cat they didn't want to disturb!

being treated like a cat by two of the most cat-like characters in hsr lol

[imfinereallyy]

Dinner Date

For STWG daily drabble and, more importantly, for Goldie @steventhusiast. Happy Birthday, you deserve the world. I know you’re asleep right now, but it’s technically still your bday here. 

“Dingus, this is a really fancy restaurant.” Robin leans back in her chair, but her hand plays with the fork on her napkin. 

Steve sips his wine; some of it tips over the edge onto the tablecloth. “What? Can’t a guy take his best friend out to a fancy dinner?” He tilts his head and takes in his best friend. What was once an awkward teen now had a beautiful, but still awkward, woman in her place. 

“Steve, I love our friend dates, but usually they take place in a greasy diner or dollar pizza.” Robin picks the fork up and starts twirling it into her napkin. Steve watches her get mesmerized by the wrinkles that wrapped around the silverware, even though they both know the napkin should be in her lap by now. 

Steve smiles softly, moves his napkin from his lap to the table, and begins to mimic Robin. “Okay, maybe I wanted it to be a special occasion.”

Robin giggles at Steve's poor fork-twirling form and leans over the table to fix it for him. “All occasions are special when we are together, so that doesn’t really mean much.” Robin’s nose scrunches in concentration as she gently guides Steve’s hand. She has done this plenty of times before, guiding Steve where he needed to be. Like taking him to the bookstore near her college so he wouldn’t have to go into sex with Eddie blind, or when she taught him how to whisk eggs properly. Both are equally important skills he now uses in his everyday life. “But you seemed nervous. You keep sipping your wine, and I know for a fact that you hate dry wine.”

Steve puts down the glass that was halfway to his mouth, “It’s not my fault Moscato tastes like candy!”

Robin snorts, “Seriously, Dingus. It’s just me. What’s up?”

Steve puts down the fork and his glass and looks Robin in the eye. “I wanted to ask you to be my best man.”

Steve expects a lot of reactions out of her: excitement, an eye roll, hell, even straight-up rejection. Maybe a little speech about how weddings for them aren’t even legal. Instead, a look of betrayal crosses her face. “You asked Eddie to marry you, and you didn’t even tell me you were proposing?”

Immediately, Steve clenches his stomach in outrageous laughter, nearly having to bend over the table. Steve tries to take Robin seriously; he really does. But she is supposed to be the smart one out of the two of them. 

Rage takes over Robin completely as she reaches over the table to start slapping Steve’s arm. “Don’t laugh, you asshat! I am actually mad at you!”

“Ow—” Steve laughs. “Ow, Robin!” Another giggle escapes him as he gets her to sit back in her chair. “I’m laughing because, of course, I didn’t propose to Eddie without talking to you first.”

Robin settles a bit at this, “I’m confused.”

Steve reaches for her hand across the table; Robin doesn’t hesitate to wrap her fingers around his. “I’m asking you to be my Best Man first, doofus. Before I even pick out the damn ring. Which I definitely need you to steal one of Eddie’s rings for me so I can get the size; man watches those things like a hawk.” 

Robin squeezes his hand, “Wait, why would you ask me that first? Isn’t that kind of backwards.”

“I do everything kind of backwards, babe. Kinda the Steve Harrington special.” Steve rubs a thumb against the back of soulmate's hand. “Of course, I ask you about being my best man first. There would be no wedding without you, so if you say no, there would be no proposing.”

Steve could see tears beginning to fill Robin’s eyes, “What are you saying?”

“Whoever gets stuck with me gets stuck with you. We’re a package deal, babe.” 

Robin throws herself across the table, knocking the wine everywhere. Steve laughs and clenches her tightly. “Of course, I’ll be your best man! Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t hurt yourself going down the aisle.” She sobs.

Steve’s throat gets thick, “Pretty sure that’s the father's job, Robs. And you’d have to fight Jim for that role.”

“Fine.” Robin sniffs, leaning back to look him in the eye. “But I get stand by your side as you make a complete fool of yourself with your vows.” 

“Deal.”

Robin leans forward, placing her forehead against Steve’s. “You and me against the world, babe.”

Steve hugs her tight, “You and me against the world.”

[ficmenrhot]

Finnick Odair with a praise and corruption kink/smut/

TW!: 18+ content, dom!experienced!finnick, sub!reader, corruption!kink, praise kink, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), P in V, very brief mention of forced prostitution (Finnick), brief aftercare, that’s about it.

A/N: Ok so this initially started off as a drabble but then it kept adding on and ended up way longer than planned, hahah. Anyways, enjoy! The amount of Finnick smut is criminally low.

Minors DNI

——————————

Finnick Odair who has a corruption kink and praise kink. You just look so innocent and pretty in your tight floral dress, clinging by his side as he greets the other victors at parties. You are being such a good girl for him, simply smiling sweetly at everyone and letting all the hungry men who are staring you down know that you are taken by letting him press kisses to your temple with his arm wrapped around your waist.

Later when the two of you return to your home in the Victors Village, he’d reward you for behaving so well and make you feel good.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight…you deserve to feel good hmm, honey?” He would say, voice laced with lust and so smooth as he begins to kiss down your neck. You whimper as you let him, nodding eagerly, knowing that Finnick knows how to work your own body better than you do.

He starts by burying his face between your thighs and feasting on you, expertly licking, sucking, and fucking you with his skilled tongue. He takes notes of the way your chest rises and falls, the sweet noises you make are music to his ears. He feels you tensing a little as your legs clamp around his head and he holds them open with his big, strong arms.

“Nuh uh darling….” he tuts as he raises his head up from your heat, “keep them open or I’ll stop”. He returns to work and he inserts a finger, pumping in and out of you as he draws figure eights on your clit with his tongue. You’re a loud moaning mess, back arching as you whimper and release all over his face. Finnick smirks and lifts his head up, his chin dripping from your arousal.

Then he moves on to fucking you. As everyone knows, Finnick is extremely experienced because of his past and he definitely puts his skills to good use. This man pushes in slowly and increases his pace. His thrusts are nice and deep, rough yet his hold on your waist is gentle. He finds that spot which makes you squirm in a matter of seconds and thrusts into you in a rhythm which makes your eye roll to the back of your skull. The sensation is indescribable, a mixture of bliss and pleasure and slight pain from the stretch of his size. Finnick whispers sweet praises in your ears as he feels you clenching around his cock.

“Mhmm..doing so good for me darling…so nice and tight, just like that”

“I can feel your sweet little pussy clenching around me…you close, honey?”

“F-fuck you feel perfect….this body is made for me huh darling?”

Let’s just say that the night is long and after many rounds, it ends with your legs shaking and body sore yet so satisfied from the immense pleasure you’ve just experienced. The aftercare is just as amazing as the sex (better if it’s possible) and Finnick smiles knowingly as he watches you doze of into a deep slumber on his chest almost immediately, gently caressing your hair as he presses soft kisses to your forehead.

Finnick Odair who wants to corrupt your innocence by teaching you about your body and his, encouraging you with praises and his way of showing affection being to leave you breathless and covered in his scent.

———————————————

A/N: well I hope everyone enjoyed reading this bc it’s the first time I’m writing smut or any fic in general after I accidentally deleted my account. Previously it was also called @ficmenrhot or @sullymenrhot. Please reblog or like if you enjoyed this, a follow is appreciated too :);)

[brabblesblog]

Sounds like a plan.

Drabble set right after act II’s confession scene. What if Tav didn’t feel quite alright with Astarion’s manipulation, and tried to just go along with it for his sake?

Angst with a happy ending. Also a tiny bit of Gale. Enjoy!

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

He starts to notice when you stop smiling at him.

Oh, you'd smirk and laugh when talking to him, but that wasn't it - you just didn't smile.

That one he'd craved so much to see, the one that made your eyes crinkle and your nose flare a little. That smile. He hadn't seen it since the night he confessed his feelings to you.

He’d worry about it more, if you two didn’t spend every waking moment together. If you didn’t move into his tent. Didn’t cuddle with him every night, and woke up tangled in his arms every dawn.

So he put it aside for now. Your relationship was a new and fragile thing, and he dared not risk it.

That is, until he noticed you smiling like that with Gale. Astarion had just been walking back to camp from a hunt, when he had heard your voice and Gale’s and had inadvertently began to eavesdrop.

You had been sitting by the campfire with the wizard, reading one of those raunchy romance novels Shadowheart had given you. The two of you were huddled close together, knees touching, chortling and snorting as you read the passages aloud.

“I don’t think elves have… appendages of that size,” Gale remarks after a particularly salacious line. “Would they?” He shoots you a particularly nasty smirk.

You laugh, all pretense thrown aside. “I haven’t seen enough elf cock to know,” you mumble. “Or any other type of cock, for that matter.”

Gale chuckles. “You’ve been sleeping with one, have you not?” There is a small note of sadness in Gale’s voice when he says this, and you note it. You had turned the wizard down for Astarion.

The laugh that was about to come out of you dies at Gale’s words. You remember sleeping with Astarion, remember how your relationship started, how-

You shake your head, trying to clear out those thoughts. You want to just have fun right now, not think about your complicated situation. Gale notices, and he closes the spicy book. He looks to you, those large eyes holding nothing but affection and concern for you.

“Is something the matter? Anything you need, I’ll be there,” he reminds. He may not be your partner, but he’s still one of your closest friends in camp.

“Actually.” You weigh your options. No one seemed to be here at camp, and so you decide to confide in your friend. “Yes. There.. there is a problem. With.. with Astarion and I.”

Astarion initially rolls his eyes as he hears this conversation. It’s just banter, and he doesn’t mind. What made him stay there and listen in for a moment was the sound of your laughter. It was so genuine and he had not heard it in what felt like forever. He felt a pang of jealousy that of all people, Gale had been the one to bring it out of you. As he prepared to go back to your shared tent, he finally heard you mention his name. He froze, immediately rooted to the spot by fear. He had to know what was wrong. He had to fix it before you left him.

Gale puts a comforting hand on your knee. “Then I will lend you my ears. I shall keep your confidence.”

“It’s- it’s hard to explain,” you begin, speaking gently. “Does it make sense if I say I understand why he would do something he did, but it hurts anyways?”

“More than you know,” Gale replies somberly. “You understand their reasons. Sympathize, even. But you can’t help how you feel.” He pauses, considering it. “Does he know?”

“No.” You shake your head, answering without hesitation. “I didn’t want to give him more things to worry about. He..”

He already has too many things on his plate, you figured, and your petty little issues are nothing compared to what he’s going through.

Gale nods. “And you didn’t want to burden him. I understand.” He clears his throat. “I’m not a good choice for advice regarding relationships, however- it’s common knowledge that hiding things from each other so early on is a portent for disaster. I hope you know that.”

“I know, Gale,” you say, your tone sharpening. Then you let out a sigh, forcing yourself to calm down. “I just don’t want to hurt him any more than he’s already been hurt. I can’t hate him for what he did to me, but I want to hate him for how much it hurts.”

Your voice breaks at the last moment, and you bury yourself in Gale’s shoulder. He wraps a comforting arm around you, letting you finally let out those feelings you’ve been bottling in.

“I thought,” you gasp, “that he’d finally be the one person to actually want me for me.”

Astarion, hidden in the periphery of the camp, sees and hears everything. He keeps silent, as his own heart rips at the sound of your sobbing. Of course. How could he have been so blind? How could he have just assumed you were okay with what he did? After his confession, you had said everything was okay, and he had taken it at face value.

Gods damned it, Astarion thinks. As the conversation dies and you gradually shift to just sobbing into Gale’s shoulder, Astarion slips away.

You head back to your shared tent and hour or so later, opening the flaps. To your surprise, your lover sits there. He snaps upwards the moment your face pokes in, as if he had been waiting for just that exact moment.

“You’re back early,” you say, slipping in and closing the flap behind you. You drop to your knees and crawl towards the bedroll beside him, exhausted.

“Caught a boar quite early on. I daresay I got a bit lucky,” is the reply, delivered in a tone that just sounded off to your ears. He moves to wrap an arm around you, pulling you close to him. “And you, darling? Catching up with the wizard?” He tries to go for nonchalant, and absolutely fails it.

You notice it then, the way he’s actually not even breathing. The way his chest is stiff as a board, the way his fingers tremble.

“Astarion,” you squeeze your eyes shut. “You heard.”

“Every word,” he says, a pained sigh escaping his lips. His arm stops pulling you close. You turn to face him, and you see his face, more pained than you have ever seen him before. When he had confessed, he looked frightened. This time he looked resigned. You watch him clench his jaw, preparing to say the words he knew he should say.

Astarion takes a small, sharp breath. He meets your gaze.

“I hurt you.” The statement is quiet, emotionless. “You shouldn’t have told me you were okay, darling. You should have let me know.” His jaw works again, and he struggles to say the next words.

“I’ve put your things in your pack. You can leave whenever you wish.”

He tries not to cry. Not to beg for you to stay. Because you deserve to go. You deserve real, and if you can’t be real with him, then he isn’t the one who deserves you. Swallowing, his hand caresses your cheek. “I am sorry.”

Sorry he can’t give you what you deserve. Sorry he hurt you. Sorry he was what he was.

You sit up. You try to see what he’s thinking, to see if this relationship still had anything to salvage. But here in the dark, it’s very hard to tell. You brace yourself; the thing missing here was communication, and you’ll be damned if you don’t try to do just that before it all blows up.

“Do you want this, Astarion? Us?”

A quick, quiet hiss of pain breaks the silence. His eyes brighten, filling up with tears. They don’t fall just yet.

“Yes. Gods, yes.”

Your own shoulders drop, and you exhale.

“Then I’m going nowhere. But I suppose we should talk about what you overheard.”

He exhales, relief flooding his features. The guardedness isn’t quite gone yet, however. He makes no move to close the gap. Instead he sits up, matching your position.

“What else is there to say? I manipulated you. You felt a lot less gracious about it than you originally thought. Seems about the sum of it, no?”

There is a little defensiveness there. As if he’s already building walls in the event of your departure.

“Somewhat, but not quite.” You clear your throat. “I don’t blame you. I’m not upset at you. Or resentful. Or whatever else you think I am. Before anything else, I want you to know that.”

His eyes widen, surprised. He had overheard the conversation; he should have known this. But hearing it so directly said was different. You can see his shoulders sag as the tension leaves his body, as that terrible knot in his heart starts to loosen. He nods, acknowledging your statement and an encouragement to continue.

“I’m just hurt.” That was the root of all of it, really. “I’m hurt, but I didn’t want you to know. You already suffer so much, that it felt…” you trail off, trying to find the words.

“Frivolous, darling?” He suggests. As you nod he continues. “Just because I’m going through things doesn’t mean there’s no space… for your feelings,” he begins tentatively. He takes one more small breath, then reaches across to take your hand, just like he did that night he confessed.

“I’ve spent two hundred years carrying my own burdens. You have shared my load. Please. Let me lighten yours too.”

You scan his face, on instinct, trying to see any signs of insincerity. There is none. His eyes are round and open, and his hand remains on yours, palm up, an invitation for you to come to him.

You choke back tears, leaning forward to touch your foreheads together. “It’s just that I wished you were.. that we started differently. That you wanted me..”

“For you,” he says, repeating what you said to Gale. “I know. And I might not have, at the start. I might have seen you as a means to an end.”

He gathers his courage and moves to wrap his arms around you. “But now I do,” he whispers against your ear. “I want you for you.”

You melt into his arms then, moulding yourself to his torso as you cry yet again. But unlike your tears when talking to Gale, this feels like relief. Like home.

He shushes you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You said you aren’t upset at all. But you can. We can..” he thinks for a moment, then proceeds. “We can take some time apart, if that’s what you want. We can take a step back and see if we can end up back here again.”

Saying that felt like torture for him. But he knew it needed to be said. You needed to have that option.

You shake your head. “No. I’m- I would very much rather be in this, whatever this is,” you say with a teary laugh. “But you’re right. I think I’ll still need some time to go through it and accept everything.”

“Just don’t forget, Astarion. It’s not your fault. It’s not,” you say vehemently. “I’m just hurt, but I’m not holding you responsible.”

He wants to protest, but knows better than to. Instead he nods. Carefully he cups your face in his hands, and you shiver as his cool palms make contact with your wet cheeks.

He kisses the tears away, each kiss a soft, feather-light brush against your skin.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. For your kindness. For your forgiveness and grace. For your love, although he couldn’t even use that word yet, even to himself. For the gift of yourself, always so generously given, from the very start.

He wishes he could someday live up to your love. That he would be worth everything you give him. He tries to voice this out.

“If you’re staying, then… it gives me a challenge, mm?” He tries to smile. “I’ll try to be worth the trouble. But no promises, darling.”

You huff out a laugh. This beautiful, strong, insufferable man. How could he think he wasn’t worth it to you? But you understood. You felt the same way.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you say. “As for me, well. I don’t imagine I’ll ever be worth all that, either.”

“Then we’ll be worthless together,” he says without missing a beat. If you only knew how special he thought you were. How worthy. How you make him want to be better.

He presses his lips to yours, finally. Sealing your words together. A promise for you two to share each other’s burdens. Together.

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree.

[sooniebby]

Bae I’m back! This time with a Drabble request because asking for full length fics makes me feel guilty. Anywayssssss

Iida…. Hear me out. I’m a SIMP for nerds who are secretly freaks and I feel after the stain incident it’s clear this man is one of those. He def has a size kink I mean he’s built like a god but he also has a brat taming kink. Just imagine him with a lil delinquent reader who simply doesn’t respect his “authority” and he finally gets fed up and puts him in his place. Idk this man just does things for me

Consensually ofc

xx

ఌ 𝐈𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐘𝐀

꧁ 𝙏𝙚𝙣𝙮𝙖 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Smut 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚! ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

You didn’t exactly know how you got yourself into this situation. Face pushed down onto the bed with your ass up in the air. A slap jolted you forward as you cried out in pain. Your ass was aching from the continuous spanking.

Iida was someone you liked pissing off. It was funny to see him yell at you about the rules or what not but you never really imagined he’d do this to you. You and Iida were studying together, not sure how that happened, and you mentioned something to piss him off.

You didn’t even remember what you said. What you really remembered was how easily Iida picked you up and put you in this position. The sound of the harsh slaps against your skin was the only noise in the room, with your muffled whimpers to accompany it.

Iida wasn’t saying anything and somehow that made it hotter in way. As if he was so angry that the only way he thought you could learn was if he discipline you like the brat you wanted to act like.

“Iida…” you whined. “I’ll be good, promise…”

He stopped for a moment, as if he was thinking before you felt him slip in a finger inside of you. It went in easily, due to your previous masturbation before you went to see him.

A chuckle was heard as you bit down on the sheets to muffle your gasps. “Did you want this to happen? That’ll explain why I don’t need lube.”

You didn’t answer, twitching at the way Iida had easily found your prostate. He grazed it each time, making you whine at the teasing. Your cock twitched from beneath you—precum leaking onto the bedsheets.

A sudden pull at your shirt’s collar forced you to lean back against Iida’s chest. You couldn’t really see him but it was scarily horny at how easily he could move you around with no extra strength.

“Answer me. I asked a question.”

“No…”

Iida hummed as he slipped in another finger, pumping them in and out. He didn’t even try to touch your prostate, leaving you to whine at the lost.

“I know you don’t really have manners for others but with me, I thought you would’ve known I don’t tolerate disrespect,” he whispered into your ear. It felt like Iida was a whole different person.

But you certainly liked that.

Iida pushed you down into the bed and pulled out his fingers from your ass. You could hear the faint noise of his zippers being unbuttoned. A small feeling of glee was felt as you wiggled your hips.

“Huh, you think this is for you?” Iida moved his hand to grip at the back of your neck. His hand almost covered the entirety of it. Even with just one hand, he effectively had you pinned down.

“This is for me and only me, (Name).” It was the first time he had ever said your first name. Iida’s cock, that you wished you could’ve seen, was harshly shoved inside.

He was true to his words. His thrusting was mainly focused on chasing his own release. But you didn’t care. If he was using you, you’d gratefully allow it.

You moaned pitifully, hoping he’d at least try to touch your prostate but it seemed he was purposefully missing it. His hand around your throat moved up to your hair and pulled it, gaining a cry from you.

He held onto your hair tightly as he used you like a fleshlight. The sound of skin slapping together paired with your moans and bed creeks filled the room. Whoever this new Iida was, you wanted him to last.

“Iida… I wanna cum!” You whined.

“No.”

A pathetic whimper left your throat. It was hot to see him not care for you and be so set on teaching you a lesson but you at least hoped he would try later. Your cock was just leaking for its’ release.

Suddenly, Iida turned you around to lay on your back, giving you a full view of him. His glasses were off and his hair was beginning to stick to his forehead. He didn’t look particularly happy or horny, more calculating.

As if he was thinking about what particular moves to do. And you soon learned why when he moved your legs up to your ears, something you didn’t know you could do, and began to thrust downwards inside of you.

This angle was hitting your prostate constantly. A scream left your lips as you tried to get used to the sensation. You arched your back as you reached over to grip at his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. But he didn’t kiss you—he pressed a finger against your lips instead.

“Only good boys get kisses.”

You whined in embarrassment. Iida really had you now didn’t he. You came right after that. Iida was someone you dreamed of having sex with—but this right now was hotter than any dream.

Much to your surprise, Iida pulled out before his orgasm and pushed you down on the bed. He moved to aim his cock at your stomach and rubbed himself until he came, coating his cum all over your stomach.

“And only good boys get to be rewarded with cum inside.” He said, patting your sore butt as he got up to get some wet wipes.

You frowned at the cum on your stomach. Maybe you should rethink your little delinquent attitude.

But maybe a balance. Where’s the fun in being entirely good?

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

You said brat taming and I ran with it… trying some new kinks, whatcha think?

Also don’t feel guilty about requesting! It’s what my blog is for

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo

(Ask to be added to the tag list/you’ll be tagged in every fic I post)

[yourstrulyrika]

breeding kink with leon bc :3 i love him

also um working on a theme but i am pretty busy these days yk. i’ll try to post more sorry about that!! its friday now so :3 it’s more of a short drabble to get myself back into writing

no warnings, fem!reader, lots lots of cum bc i love breeding kink. and size kink btw

Leon didn’t think of himself as a family man. quite the opposite, he never thought of starting a family. but.

the thought of filling you up with his cum switches something in Leon’s mind at the sight of you full of cum. it’s primal, almost.

sometimes, after a long mission, he just puts you in mating press, legs on his shoulders, pressing them to your chest. you feel hazy, head empty with how well he’s filling you up. his hands are holding yours so tight in a protective grip, fingers twined with yours, his head buried in your shoulder as he fucks you in missionary. Leon loves missionary because he can kiss your pretty face, be close to you, put his head on your chest and suck on your breasts. Leon always knows how to make you feel good, with his cock pistoning in and out of you at a ruthless pace.

“Fuck, gonna fill you up, knock you up yeah? you’d look so pretty with a swelled belly.” he speaks to you with that hot, breathy tone, making your heart flutter at the mere thought, too. Leon’s voice is something that never fails to arouse you further.

Leon’s going on autopilot at one point. just pure desire to stuff you full, breed you until you’re filled to the brim. he pulls you into a deep kiss, arching his hips to massage your cervix. he makes sure to not go too rough though, to not squish you under his weight since he’s so big compared to you. his hand moves from yours to rest on your belly, gently pressing it to feel his cock sliding in and out of you, feeling the bulge that’s forming on your lower abdomen. fuck he swears he’s about to cum just from feeling this.

“Gonna stuff my cum in you, goddamn, you’re so pretty, love you so fucking much, taking my cock so good.” he pants out, pulling you into a deep kiss and taking your hand in his again. to Leon, holding hands during sex is a habit. he always does it, needs to feel you, touch you, reassure you this way.

he feels you squeezing him so well, his fat cock making you see stars and eyes roll back. he feels proud of himself whenever you’re like this, it’s just so damn hot. he’s swelling inside you, his length throbbing as he’s reaching his edge. he’s rubbing your clit, fingering you so you cum before him. he always makes sure you cum before him, and if he does cum faster, he makes up for it with his mouth, fingers or just pumps into you until you cum.

only when you cum, he’s thinking about himself. he bursts his white seed into your warmth, emptying his balls deep in your guts. he pulls out of you after a moment, just admiring the sight of his cum leaking out of you. he pushes it back with his fingers, making sure everything stays inside before pulling you into his arms, kissing your forehead.

“You’re killing me, baby. Love you so much.” he whispers into your ear, nuzzling his cheek against yours.

[fireflysymphony]

Aventurine w a fem! bodyguard reader smut... 👀

Aventurine x fem! bodyguard reader

MDNI 18+ content ahead

A/N: thank you for the request! I really like the concept. I wrote it as a mix of headcanons and a quick drabble at the end. I hope you enjoy it <3

Word count: 2.7k

Content warning: Fem! Reader, slight exhibitionism, pet names, fingering, teasing, praise, needy lovestruck Aventurine, slight degradation, slight begging (on his end), pretty soft sex, Aventurine’s daddy kink strikes again, I have a lack of gun knowledge but just roll with it, not proofread

Headcanons

Let me make this really clear: HE’S not the one who needs protection right now; it’s YOU.

The second he met you he was sizing you up with that cute little smirk of his, making it pretty obvious that all professionalism was lost the very moment he saw such a pretty number was working for him.

You should have run then.

What was the IPC thinking when they hired you for this? Is this some type of wrath from the Aeons? What did you do to deserve this punishment?

From the very beginning, he’s a pain to deal with, but you don’t have the authority to talk back, only giving him tight smiles and apologetic words. He knows this and takes full advantage of the situation.

“Y’know, princess, if you’re going to be with me all the time, shouldn’t I have a prettier view? I don’t like having to leave everything up to the imagination. Do you think red or blue is more your color? Ah~ I’ll buy both.” And you’re sitting there seething as he taps away on his phone, seemingly oblivious to your displeasure. Was he just joking? What was he doing?

The VERY next day you see Aventurine holding up not one but two skin tight dresses with fabric only hiding your more intimate areas. It was more like lingerie than a dress like something you’d see on a stripper.

He evidently wasn’t just teasing you.

As politely as you could, you told him it would hinder your fighting ability if anyone were to attack, so you absolutely couldn’t wear it. He made some futile comment about how he’d love to see you try so he could get a peek up your skirt to, you know, “negate the traumatizing experience of him being attacked.”

In the end, you won the argument, and Aventurine threw a tantrum, muttering something about giving them to a woman who’d actually appreciate a gift like that. You told him straight to his face that he should just give it to the many women he brought to bed each night then.

The surprised and hurt look on his face will forever be carved into your memory.

After that, he actively stopped calling you by his nicknames which, deep inside, you missed, or it might just be the guilt of seeing his usually inalterable flirtatious self turn into a sad kicked puppy of a man. You held onto your pride though and forced yourself to bite back any apology or reconsiderations of his request you may have had. The man should have known your job was on the line, and his insensitive acts of fickle flirtation could not sway you.

The very next day he was up to his usual antics, and you got the impression that he only seemed upset to try to guilt you. Asshole. It only made you more upset with him. Did he like playing with your emotions?

Did I mention he loves it when you say his name? Sometimes he’ll ignore your presence just to hear you say “Mr. Aventurine? Boss?! Sir, I’m talking to you.” In your signature annoyed tone. It makes his heart melt. The only thing he can think of is imagining how your little pants and sighs of his name sound while he’s on top of you. How would you sound if you weren’t constantly annoyed at him? If he brought you pleasure?

Honestly, he was whipped for you from day one, and his actions might sound annoying and overly flirtatious, but that’s just how he shows love.

I could tell you so many things that this man has done for your attention, but that’d probably be the length of the Holy Bible. There are so many places this could go, but I think this instance of his sticks out the most amongst many akin to it.

—

You were used to casinos at this point. The loud blaring sounds of people playing the slot machines and thick, suffocating smell of alcohol were background sensations at this point. You couldn’t even bother to give them a second thought, not when a gun was pointed at the man you were supposed to be protecting. Safe to say the poker game was ruined. Champagne soiled the cards, shards of glass from the glasses littered the floor and table, and Aventurine, stupid Aventurine, had his hands raised in the air, his signature smirk pointed at the assailant like his own brand of deadly weapon.

“Hey, hey, now. This isn’t the place to have one of those, is it? Look, you ruined the cards!” Adventurine laughed, making a circling motion with his hand as if trying to gesture to the table of cards which were now soaked a yellowish brown color. Your hand rested on your gun, ready to fire at any sign of him about to pull the trigger. “Can’t we talk this out? I’m sure with a little persuasion you be happy to hand over-“

Your pistol fired later than his. Shit.

All that registered in your mind was the crying of two men, and Aventurine hunched over with a pained expression as he gripped his stomach. You were trained for this, but in your state of panic, you ran to him instead of making sure the attacker was dead. You scooped him up, struggling to carry him with your gun pointed at the now surrounded shooter while retreating from the casino. You wished you could make sure he was dead, but attending to Aventurine’s injuries were your first priority.

“You idiot. I told you to stop provoking people and look where we are!” You scolded him, Aventurine now quiet and clinging to your shoulders. You were too panicked to question his unusual behavior after just being shot in the stomach. “..If you’re worried, you won’t die. I got you.”

“I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, Princess.” He laughed, setting his chin on your shoulder. Sensing something was off, you turned down an alleyway and skidded to a stop. He wasn’t screaming in pain nor were his cheeks stained with tears, even the adrenaline wouldn’t keep him from crying out, right? “I’m surprised it took you this long to catch on. No, I’m not-“

Before he could finish his sentence, you dropped him to the ground before crouching down and lifting his shirt up. No wounds in sight.

“Getting rather intimate, aren’t we? You should give me the chance to do this to you.”

“Shut up! What did you do, Aventurine?!” You demanded, yanking his shirt back down before leaning back on your haunches. He looked satisfied with himself as he shuffled to lean against the alley wall. His hat and glasses were gone, probably from the scuffle. He’d have her go get them later.

“Uh-uh, remember who you’re talking to, beautiful.” He smiled, running his hand through his hair and covering his right eye, the other one illuminating his face well enough to be able to see his features in the darkness. “But since you haven’t figured it out, I simply hired someone to shoot me with a blank which, by the way, hurt like a bitch still. I might still need you to kiss my booboo.”

He saw you were about to open your mouth again and placed a finger to your lips, shushing you. “And before you ask: I replaced your bullets with blanks too, so you didn’t shoot an innocent man. I’m not that cruel.”

“You’re cruel to me.” You murmured, knocking his hand away from your face. He smiled and gave you a little shrug, just like a mischievous toddler who was proud when he colored on the walls. “You're impossible. I can’t believe I was actually worried for your life!”

“Worried? I make crazy bets all the time, princess. Gambling my life is no strange feat to me, you should know this.” He smiled again, this time actually touching your lips with the tip of his finger. Your lips parted, the fabric of his gloves sending you spinning. How soft were his actual fingers? What did they look like under those gloves? Were they long, slender, and delicate, or did they have some edge to them, all calloused and rugged? You imagined the former; Aventurine didn’t do much. “But, I have a pretty good hand right now. I bet you won’t stop me from playing it and showing you my cards.”

“But you’re gambling with my feelings too. That’s different. I don’t like being used.” You steadied yourself against the wall, trying to rid your mind of thoughts about his hands. Wait, when did he get so close? You were backed against the wall now, Aventurine caging you there with his lanky form.

“And I’ll make it up to you, just relax, babydoll. I just needed to be close to you. I couldn’t take it anymore.” He placed his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut. His hand fit perfectly with her cheek as if their bodies were crafted for each other. You weren’t so sure, but the way you were feeling right now wasn’t professional.

“Let me take care of you instead for a chance.” He left featherlight kisses on your forehead, trailing down the side of your face. Each kiss grew longer than the last, his lips unable to pull away from you. He cupped both of your cheeks, his lips nearly touching yours as he spoke. “You aren’t pushing me away. I did all this for a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. Now the IPC can’t punish you if you indulge a little. Please, pretty girl, let me have this. Let me have you.”

You shuddered from his warm breath on your mouth, months of his teasing and antics festering inside you. Defeat was so easy in this moment, the taste of another person’s lips a fleeting memory ever since you got this job. His constant advances would only get worse the more you rejected him. Aventurine always got what he was due. Always. Whatever it be you warming his bed one night or taking you in the back of an alleyway, he’d get it. Deep down, you loved being chased, but now the hunter finally cornered its prey.

“Not again. Never again after this, okay? One time so you make it fucking count.” You grabbed him by his shirt collar, smashing your lips against his, the taste of champagne filling your mouth. He knew what he was doing and held the back of your head, tangling his fingers with your hair. Your actions caught him off guard though; he prepared for the crushing reality of you pushing him away, but you didn’t. Now he just needed to act like he knew you wouldn’t all along.

The softness of his lips lulled you into a daze, your hands aching from how tight you held onto him. Each time he pulled back for a breath, you didn’t give him much time to rest before your lips were on his again, asking for more which he provided with no hesitance. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, taking the delicate flesh between his teeth and playing with it before letting his tongue mold into yours.

“Someone’s a little needy. I could tell by the way you act that you’re pent up, but this is bad.” He fully pulled away with his face flushed, binding your wrists together and holding them above your head with one hand. He left open mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest. Not bothering to waste anymore time, he used his teeth to free your chest from the buttons of your blouse. “Fucking me in an alleyway like this? You must have wanted me from the beginning. Please say you’ve always wanted me, pretty girl. Please… please… fromday one, I’ve always needed you…”

He pulled down your bra with his teeth, kissing and sucking at your breasts with a hunger similar to that of a starving man. His tongue flicked over your delicate buds, moaning at the feeling of your warmth in his mouth. You were starting to think he was right. He acted like he really did need you. As you saw him buried in your chest, eyes filled with lust and desire, all your second thoughts faded to dust.

“Mr. Aventurine…” You tugged on his hair, blond locks soft as the finest silk. Of course he was soft and so delicate; he felt like he could break with one wrong move from you. How was he so torturous and annoying yet the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?

Aventurine’s heart stopped at the sound of your whiny cry of his name. The sound he’s been craving was more beautiful than he could have ever thought.

“I got you, my princess. You’re so beautiful, so fucking gorgeous.” He held up his free hand to his lips, biting at the fabric a few times before getting a hold of the glove and slowly pulling it off. He kept eye contact with you as he did, giving you the impression he was trying to be seductive about it. Before you could say anything about it though, he was already back to your body, hands roaming down to the waistband of your pants.

Within moments, your pants and undergarments were bunched at your knees, and Aventurine got straight to abusing your clit, your already slick folds acting as the perfect lube. “You’re so wet for me. What a naughty, naughty girl you are. So bad, you couldn't hold back that professional facade for long. Were your panties always dripping when you got home? Did you touch yourself and think about me doing this? What a fucking slut.”

He chuckled and collected the slick before shoving a single finger into you, letting out a louder moan than you. He loved the way you felt around him, how tight you were squeezing just one finger. “Fuck… so tight. Can you even take another?” He managed to get another finger into you, stretching you out as he twisted deeper inside of you. He worked at a slow pace while also kissing your neck and chest, selfishly leaving marks in his wake. Eventually, he sped up, losing himself as he pounded into you with another finger.

Your body convulsed, hiccuping in pleasure. “Fuck! Fuck! S-sir-! Shit, I’m gonna- gonna...” You leaned your head on his shoulder, biting down hard to silence your moans and other noises. What had been but five minutes, and you were already falling apart.

“So fast and easy. Cum then, you fucking whore, cum all over daddy’s fingers.” He demanded, slamming his fingers deeper inside of you. You threw your head back, crying out profanities you hope nobody passing by heard. Your walls clenched around him, a wave of pleasure crashing through your body as you coated his fingers in your pleasure.

“There you go, just like that. You feel so good squeezing my fingers like that, good girl.” He pulled out of you after helping you come down from your high, his long, slender fingers covered in your release. He didn’t waste any time in getting rid of the evidence, moaning at your taste as he licked himself clean. “So good, I love you…”

He hoped you didn’t hear that last part, biting his lip to silence the words he just spoke. Thankfully, you looked too dazed to care. If you brought it up later, he’d tease you until you didn’t think it happened.

He let go of your wrists and embraced you, cradling your head against his chest and letting you put yourself back together. He kissed your forehead, mumbling any praises he could think of in your ear. He wanted to savor this moment because in a few minutes, he knew he’d be pushed away again. No matter how good he made you feel; you’d make it clear to him that you’d never fall for one of his traps again. That’s just the woman you were, and he didn’t make bets he knew he couldn’t win.

A/N: this kinda got out of hand, and Aventurine bangs his bodyguard turned into Aventurine becomes a menace (again). If anyone likes this, I’d be happy to make a part two with more detail on how they got together. I apologize to the requester if this isn’t what you had in mind, but I still hope you enjoyed it! <3

Requests are open!

[ms-fade]

To fill

Luke castellan x chubby!fem!reader. 18+ Drabble

Request: Luke x plus size smut im begging taking out anger from like loosing capture the flag on the reader plsss -anon

Warnings: smut content, minors not allowed, rough f*ck, Luke being aggressive and dominate, slight degradation, hair pulling.

“that’s it,” his hoarse voice growled into your ears, “fuckin’ take it.”

Luke’s hand kept itself on your hip and gripped the fluffy skin, and the other keeping your leg help up as you tried to balance yourself over the table.

you didn’t participate in capture of the flag, being a child of Aphrodite you didn’t find it your style, but you cheered your boyfriend on every time. However this time for the first time in a long time, his team had lost.

And boy was he enraged at losing. When you went up to him you saw how tight his jaw clinched together and gritted his teeth, the sword in his hand was kept in a tight grip. He was huffing and puffing and you knew he could hurt someone if he wanted to in that moment.

But being the amazing girlfriend you are, you offered comfort to him and a sweet smile but he wasn’t having any of it. He glared at you for a second then tugging your arm away and you were forced to follow him.

and that’s how you ending up here. Gushing around his cock that bullied your insides and not caring if he was too rough with you. He was tugging and squeezing every part of your body, and sinking his teeth all around. The pretty skin he loves to kiss was now covered in bruises and red marks, or his bitemarks.

Luke had tendencies to fuck you rough sometimes but never this hard, and out the blue. He would start slow by kissing you softly or rubbing up you body to get you going, telling you beautiful you looks. And if he was to be rough with you he’d start off slow by reaching his hand up to your neck, tugging you around or giving your ass a few smacks.

but he jumped right into it with his teeth nipping at yours and pushing you against anything he could find. his hands practically ripping of your clothes and slapping your pretty tits to see them bounce.

Even when you whimpered and whined he didn’t care.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” you felt his tip brush up against your spot, “I lost- To ares kids of all fucking-” a pleasured moan left his lips cutting him off.

you pout your lips while gripping onto the dusty wooden table under your. Each time his hips slammed into yours you could hear the wet sounds your pussy made and could feel your juices running down your thigh.

“Such a little whore, taking my cock so nicely without any warning.” He forced you back into him causing you to let out a small scream after you tried to bite your lip for being too loud. his movements stopped for a second and let his dick rest in your warm walls.

you whine and try to look back. You grind your hips against him, trying to get him to start moving again but this seemed to piss him off more.

your face gets pushed down into the table as he let your leg fall back onto the ground. you yelped as he started to pound into you making the table move into the wall. your body jiggled against him, something he loves so much. If only he could see it all.

“So greedy, I just lost and you’re whining like a bitch in heat? You will take what I give you, I’ll fuck you cunt as much as I want tonight. Cry, whimper or plead. It doesn’t matter to me what you do,” he leaned down and took a fist of your hair, pulling your head back as his body pressed yours against the table.

“Tonight you’re just a hole for me to fill.”

[chrollohearttags]

aggressive sex with reiner after teasing him all day long during your shopping spree.

content warning: heavy squirting, cowboy reiner, plus size black fem reader, oral sex, foot play, super vocal dom reiner (him talking his shit cause whew 😵‍💫), spit kink, slapping, daddy kink, choking

this is sort of an excerpt/drabble for a full fic that I’m working on because lord knows when I’ll get around to finishing it but this thought wouldn’t leave me.

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:.･*:｡.･*:｡.･

it was as if you had stepped into a parallel universe. One completely opposite from the one you knew..especially in the bedroom!..things were so different tonight between you and your beloved husband that you’d hardly even recognize him. And yet..

“Yer’ dripping, baby..a fucking mess. You better not let me miss a drop either..matter of fact, shake that ass in my face. You know exactly what I like.”

you were loving this side of him! Aggressive, talkative and so demanding of you. Smacking your round asscheeks as you threw them back onto his head that was smothered in between them. Twerking on his face as he tongue fucked you from behind. Slurping and sucking on that sensitive pussy like a sweet delicacy. Those rough, loud grunts mumbling against your sex and making it feel ten times better. Making you reach back and grip your ankles; the diamond tennis bracelet and $20,000 wedding ring glistening underneath the bedroom lights. Just a small fraction of the amenities he spoiled you with. After all, it was worth it for the way you fucked him in return..

“Take that fucking pillow out of yer’ mouth, sweetheart. I need to hear how good of a job I’m doin’. Feel good getting ya’ pussy ate like this?”

“Yes! So fucking—ahh! Shit…”

your admission interrupted by yet another orgasm. Squirting on both his face and the silk linen underneath you. Those eyes crossing in the process and your body going limp for a moment..which in turn pleased him. “There it is…come on daddy’s tongue, baby. You taste so good..” See, you had been giving him little teasers and previews of what was in store when you got home and now he was reaping the rewards. Watching you spread yourself open with those pretty new nails he had just paid to have done, along with the cute lace thong he had tugged aside to eat you out. Watching you tremble, he’d spit down onto that entrance and puckering asshole before leaning up and prompting you to turn over with a heavy palm to the ass.

“Lemme spit in that pretty mouth too—ya’ like that, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy! I love it..love when you treat me like a slut..”

finally getting you face to face with his fingers pumping between your lips. Watching how happy you became when he fed you a couple slaps. “I know ya’ do. That’s why you were in the car, sending me those sexy lil’ videos of you playing with your pussy. Saying ya’ wanted me to fuck the shit out of you.” Hooking his fingers into your jaw, Reiner burrowed his entire weight over you, diving between those pretty little legs. You didn’t have the strength to hold them open so he’d be glad to pin them up. “Had me sneaking away from work to stroke myself..made me come so hard..you’re such a tease..” Mainly because he wanted to flick his tongue around and suck on those freshly done toes..kissing on your instep and ankle as he began to feed you deep strokes. But not before slapping that cock against your very needy and warm slit. His opposite hand eventually snaked around your throat before bending down and smirking in your face.

“So I’ll give you what ya’ need…all this dick, just for you, pretty girl. Gonna fuck you all night.”

[mrzombielover]

— könig relationship headcanons

rating; sfw and nsfw

warnings: nsfw, virginity, this is just filthy and not really edited and a spew of random disconnected thoughts

a/n; oh my actual god tysm for 1k+ likes on my ghost drabble i did NOT expect any attention so thank you😭

to get in a relationship with this guy you def had to make the first move, he’s too shy to do anything

(i’ll prob make separate headcanons w him pining over you tbh)

but once you ARE in a relationship? man

his severe social anxiety manifests in a way that just makes him really awkward. like🧍

clingiest boyfriend alive, mf like 6’10 250 lbs clinging to your arm when u go in public and asking you to order for him

doesn’t know what to do with himself when you’re not there. you leave and he just waits for you to come back.

he just loves you so much, he’s not stupid by all means but you’re the one that thinks for him and he’s happy w that arrangement

likes when you refer to him as big guy or esp YOUR big guy bc yes. he is a big guy. thanks for noticing :)

while he couldn’t be a sniper bc of his size, there are some perks to his height. namely scaring the ever loving fuck out of any guy he may be jealous of

he’s not vocal and much too shy to really do anything but he will stand over your shoulder vaguely threateningly glaring at the guy.

he’s incredibly easy to fluster, part of the reason he likes wearing a mask is because you won’t be able to see how easy it is to make him blush

this is heightened in public places, because of his shy nature any type of pda drives him crazy and he gets wound up very quickly

gently touch his arm or chest when talking to him, put a hand on his shoulder or thigh when laughing, get his attention touching the back of his neck, literally any of the tamest touch will have his face and ears all hot and red.

not just touching him, either, just existing as hot as you are in his presence makes him stiff.

doesn’t talk a lot in general, and i don’t think that changes in bed. he’s a quiet person, so treasure the groans you do get to hear

down so horrendous

everyone knows the quiet guys are the hung ones

and man is he PACKIN

i hope you have a size kink because everything about him is huge, from his stature to his muscles to his cock

i’m thinking upwards of 8 inches, insanely thick and a deep reddish color, tip color #b3505e

due to his anxiety and quiet nature, he has had extremely little experience with relationships and sex. he was bullied in school, and i can’t imagine him having a lot of practice before meeting you

my little meow meow so easily flustered and blushing bright red the whole time

his thoughts are probably “oh my god oh fuck wow holy oh my god oh my god” and he can’t form any real sentences or coherent thoughts

probably busts prematurely and then he’s so embarrassed, would freak out about it until you calm him down and tell him it’s okay

then he’d make it up to you

what he’s lacking in experience he makes up for with eagerness, he’s a fast learner and attentive to detail

gives AMAZING head. once he learns how you like it it’s over for you. has his head buried between your thighs for hours, and his tongue in combination with thick fingers splitting you open will have your legs shaking and you crying

if you ever don’t want to sit on his face for fear of hurting him or hover above instead of putting your weight on him he looks at you like >:((

leans towards the submissive side, will do anything you want him to do and is down to experiment

when it comes to what HE wants tho… he is much too shy to ask to try stuff out it takes a lot of courage u might need to infer some things

enjoys being submissive the majority of the time but there are times when he gets so wound up and desperate he’ll just take you how he wants (lord have mercy…)

in these situations i imagine it’s probably been a bit since you’ve last had the chance to be… intimate. naturally you take it upon yourself to tease him whenever given the chance, trying your hardest to make him blush

he also has an extremely high sex drive, he’s an absolute beast of a man and can go for 2-3 rounds without break. just crazy amounts of stamina and strength. this in combination with you teasing him means you’re really in for it the second you have some alone time

no matter how much you weigh he could pick you up and handle you like a rag doll. he is HUGE and insanely strong as previously mentioned

in conclusion just big and strong and very much loving and protective in his own weird 🧍 way

**these will be elaborated on soon trust i plan on doing nsfw alphabets for the whole task force + my boy

masterlist

[ratedfleur]

my pretty bunny.

jang wonyoung x gn!reader genre ౨ৎ explicit

🔞: nsfw link warning!

🎀: this was totally only supposed to be a headcannon and yet it turned into a drabble instead .. anywho, enjoy! 🤭

🔗: inspo from this x post!

bunny omega!wonyoung always had a thing for dildos, only liking them to be shaped like food or even shaped like the alphas around her. she liked how big and different the dildos would be when she bought an array of alpha dildos— wolf, dog, bear, horse, and even dolphin alphas.

but oddly enough, she liked her carrot dildos, she liked how the sizes could vary in terms of ridges, lengths, and widths. wonyoung always chose the stubby and thick carrots, reminding her of the carrots that her fellow bunny omegas used on her when she was newly presented.

it might’ve been the dumb bunny in wonyoung but once she saw you walking in the streets, her panties immediately went into a twist when you went up to her, snatching her heart in just a second.

wonyoung didn’t exactly know what has gotten into her but once you two were in her apartment, she immediately pounced on you as if she was the alpha, hands ripping off your coat as she hurriedly kissed you.

“haaah.. y/n, please!” wonyoung moaned when your mouth went down towards her neck, marking her delicate skin up with your marks, sniffing her scent glands beforr nuzzling your nose against it, making wonyoung shiver.

“what baby, what?” you mutter against her skin, smiling when wonyoung only whines and pushes your hand down to her crotch.

“i need you—“ she says before you smashed your lips against hers, making your teeth clash against hers before settling down on her bottom lip, nipping at the delicate skin before pulling away, smiling at wonyoung when she looks up at you with her innocent eyes that were now filled with lust.

you chuckle before letting wonyoung pull your hand, making a beeline towards her bedroom. you pushed wonyoung slightly, making her land on her bed with a thud before she quickly yanked her clothes off of her.

you quickly did the same, shrugging off your own clothes before you got on your knees. you were about to get in between wonyoung’s thighs, inching closer towards the edge of her bed not until your knee hit something from beneath the bed, your hand blindly reached down to grab it whilst the other was holding wonyoung’s knees open.

pulling up what you grabbed from the floor, you chuckle when it was a dainty carrot shaped dildo. finding it cute, you held it up for wonyoung to see to which she does and her face immediately flushes red as she hurriedly sits up, trying to grab her toy away from your grasp.

the alpha in you liked the little game she played, smirk appearing on your face as wonyoung desperately tried to take her toy away from you. slowly giving up, wonyoung hufted as she crossed her arms at you, shielding away the tiny peaks of her breasts from your eyes.

“show me how you play with this and i’ll fuck you like an alpha should, how does that sound?” you ask, waving the toy at wonyoung who’s eyebrows creased.

“why? can’t you just fuck me? am i too tight for you? do you think i can’t take you?” wonyoung asks back, eyebrows in a tight line as she tried to search for answers to her own question.

you shake your head, “i just want to see how you like to be fucked, baby. in fact, i think your cunt is too loose for me. i mean, see? you left your toy unattended, have you been messing around before i came?” you spoke, watching as wonyoung frowned before she silently reached for the carrot dildo that was in your hand.

she backed up away from the edge of her bed, moving further up to lean against the headboard before spreading her legs. wonyoung’s bunny ears cower down, lying flat against her head when she toys with her clit using the tip of her toy, she even visibly shudders when she saw how you were watching her intently, now standing in front of her bed with your arms crossed.

wonyoung’s thighs shake when she slowly slips the toy into her warm cavern, pussy immediately swallowing up the toy as they fluttered around its girth and shape.

her sigh is loud when the very tip of her toy touches her spot in the slightest way, barely pressing against it. wonyoung visibly tries to get it deeper, clearly aiming for her spot inside of her as she’s twisting and turning her toy before pulling it out and pushing it back in, creating a stable rhythm which has her forgetting that you were there.

you voice is clear and loud when you spoke, stopping wonyoung from fucking herself any further. “i’ll show you the fuck that my little bunny deserves.” you say to her as you got on her bed, inching closer towards wonyoung who spread her legs even further, making it easier for her to accommodate you in between her legs.

[shadowtriovibes]

Hello,

Can you write some shameless pre-relationship Sebastian x mc flirting? Like pining, comparing hand sizes, teasing about height, all that cringe cute stuff! Just go off on that however you like!

hello anon!! here's a quick 1.5k pg-rated words for you because i'd just started a little drabble of MC working at j pippin's for the summer and it turned into two goofy teens in love 🥹

edit: i felt like this deserved a name so i'm calling it "the potioneer's apprentice" and i personally love a potion-loving MC characterization very much so i may return to this 'verse later on xoxo

"I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself," you point out. Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders. "W-well, yours is better," he insists. "Always has been, even Sharp said so." "It's even better now," you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. "...You're not actually hurt, are you?" "No, just bored," he admits. "I wanted to see you."

Staring down at the order slip in your hands, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

Mr. Sebastian Sallow Feldcroft Hamlet

x3 Wiggenweld x1 Focus x1 Felix Felicis

“Simple enough,” Parry Pippin says cheerfully, tucking a knut into the pocket of the postal owl that had just dropped off your latest order. “I’ll put together the Liquid Luck, I know that’s a tricky one.”

Bustling over to his potions station, he adds, “I trust brewing the Wiggenweld and Focus draughts should be no problem for you?”

“Of course,” you say, quickly tying up your hair before lighting a fire beneath the cauldron at your own station.

You’ve been an apprentice at J. Pippin’s Potions for just over a month, refining your potions skills over the summer break – and helping keep an eye on things in Hogsmeade. In that time, your brewing skills have improved significantly, and Parry is more than happy to pass on some of the simpler potions to you.

Attempting to be casual, you ask, “Will this be a delivery?”

“Oh, I should think so,” Parry confirms. “Though it’s not exactly my neck of the woods.”

“Would you like me to drop it off?” you offer hopefully.

“How about this,” Parry offers. “I’ll send you down to the hamlet to drop these off, and then you can call it a day.”

“Thank you, Mister Pippin,” you say with a grin.

Your boss smiles approvingly as you carefully pour some horklump juice into your cauldron, precisely tapping the side of the bottle as he’d taught you.

“Besides,” he says cheekily. “I think this is the third time this month that young mister Sallow has ordered from my shop and requested delivery, even though Fatimah’s shop is much closer.”

You nearly spill the entire bottle.

“Any idea why a Hogwarts student on summer break would need so many potions?” Parry asks, smirking to himself as he pours some lacewing flies into his cauldron.

“W-well, I – I suppose he could be clumsy,” you mumble unconvincingly. “O-or stocking up, perhaps. We’ve got N.E.W.T. classes next term, some of these spells are quite challenging, a-and the beasts, we’ve got Grindylows to examine, you know how they bite…”

You trail off feebly, blushing a bright red. The Wiggenweld potion in your cauldron signals its completion with a puff of smoke, offering a welcome distraction.

“Aye, of course,” Parry murmurs, sounding very much like he doesn’t believe you in the slightest. “In any case, as soon as you finish that Focus potion I’ll send you on your way.”

Quickly ladling three portions of Wiggenweld into Parry's glass vials, you scrub out your cauldron and prepare the last draught, wrinkling your nose at the smell of dugbog tongue. Once it starts to smoke and bubble, you measure out a generous portion and collect the Felix Felicis from your boss, tucking the lot into your satchel.

“Please thank young Sebastian for his order, and tell him I said good day,” Parry tells you with a wink. “And to kindly stop pilfering my apprentice so often.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply sheepishly.

Outside the shop, you trek outside the boundaries of Hogsmeade to hop onto your broom and head south toward Feldcroft. It had been more than a week since you’d seen Sebastian, which felt like an eternity compared to how often you saw him during the school year.

One month into your break and you feel like a simpering wreck.

You miss him like crazy – not that you’d tell him like that, of course. He’s your closest friend, and the two of you have been through so much together in the past two years. You aren’t about to ruin it by confessing that you’re hopelessly in love with him.

—

Sebastian is not moping.

And even if he was, why shouldn’t he mope? He’s alone, it’s swelteringly hot in the hamlet and he hasn’t seen his best friend in a week.

He’s bored, and when Sebastian gets bored, he gets creative.

Really, it’s almost too easy to summon you to Feldcroft. All it took was a quick trip to see the owl post stand and another superfluous order for some potions (with a little bit of Liquid Luck thrown in on a whim), and he knew you’d arrive by the time the heat broke.

He conveniently manages to be tending to his small garden when you touch down beside the Sallow home, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows while he pats some dirt around a sprig of fluxweed.

“Sallow?” You call out teasingly. “I have an order here for Sebastian Sallow?”

“Must be a lazy bloke, ordering all those Wiggenwelds instead of making them himself,” he answers, sitting back on his heels and wiping some sweat away from his brow with the back of his wrist. “Or perhaps just daft.”

“I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself,” you point out.

Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders.

“W-well, yours is better,” he insists. “Always has been, even Sharp said so.”

“It’s even better now,” you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. “...You’re not actually hurt, are you?”

“No, just bored,” he admits. “I wanted to see you.”

If Ominis were here, he’d likely pick up on how those words make your heart race a little faster, but mercifully, Sebastian does not.

“Here I am,” you say. “And I’m all yours for the day, Mister Pippin gave me the rest of the day off.”

“Oh, really?” he replies, brushing some stray dirt off of his trousers as he stands up. “Whatever could we get up to with an entire afternoon?”

You blink in surprise as he stands, realizing for the first time that Sebastian has gotten taller.

“What?” he asks, catching your gaze.

“You’ve grown,” you say dumbly. “I – I mean, you’re tall.”

“Am I?” he asks, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Perhaps you’re just short.”

“I am not short,” you protest, following Sebastian as he leads the way into the old Sallow home.

It feels different now, obviously. Less like a family home and more like a chaotic bachelor pad, Sebastian’s strewn-about books and haphazard notes covering up a distinct lack of coziness.

It’s only for the summer, Sebastian had told you the first time you’d seen it.

(You know he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go anymore, what with the Gaunt household becoming more toxic by the day. You wouldn’t be surprised to find Ominis squatting there as well by the time July rolls around.)

“You’re practically pocket-sized,” Sebastian teases, closing the door behind you to keep some of the midday sun out. “I think it’s why you’re so powerful – it’s concentrated, your magic.”

You scoff and shove at his shoulder, wondering to yourself when he became so broad.

It had only been a few weeks since school had let out, hadn’t it? And suddenly Sebastian was walking around in a man’s body, one you were sure wasn’t there in Charms class in May. Or maybe it was, hiding beneath his suit jacket and his robes…

You blink rapidly to clear your head.

“Um. Your potions,” you mumble, pulling the rest of the bottles out of your satchel and placing them on the front room table.

Then you can’t help but ask, “What’s the Felix Felicis for?”

“Not sure yet,” Sebastian admits. “But I’m sure it will come in handy at some point.”

You hum under your breath, picking up the delicate vial and examining it in the light.

“Hand it over,” Sebastian demands with a laugh. “I don’t like the way you’re looking at that bottle, I know what temptation looks like on your face.”

Blushing, you place the vial in his outstretched hand, letting your own hand linger a beat too long. Sebastian quickly catches your wrist, turning your hand palm-side up.

“Merlin’s beard, your hand is small,” he observes.

“Not this again,” you groan.

“I’m being serious, you hold your wand with this tiny thing?” he jokes. “Poor Ollivander had his work cut out for him.”

“Let’s see yours, then,” you insist, holding your hand up to him. “Go on.”

Sebastian presses his palm against yours and you raise your eyebrows. His hand dwarfs yours to the degree that he could wrap the tips of his fingers overtop yours if he wanted to.

“See?” he says, his voice suddenly much quieter in the empty home. “Tiny.”

“And yet I can still beat you in a duel,” you retort, trying to calm your racing heart.

Just like that, the tension in the room dissolves away and Sebastian lights up.

“A duel, hmm?” he echoes. “Is that an offer?”

“Seriously? That’s what you want to do today?” you laugh. “It’s thirty degrees outside and you want to duel?”

“We could practice on the training dummies,” he offers hopefully. “You know you want to.”

…Damn him, he’s right.

“Fine,” you relent. “But if I sweat through this chemise, it’s your head, Sallow.”

Sebastian tries very hard to not think about you in a sweat-soaked white shirt as you lead him back outside, and if he trips over the doorframe on his way out, he’s happy to let you continue to assume it’s just his clumsy streak.

[xxsabitoxx]

Easy

<Douma x Fem! Reader Drabble>

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, Douma calls the reader “little one” but reader is very much of age don’t get it twisted

A/N: the first of many drabbles! Thank you all for sending so many characters! Douma was the first suggestion I got so naturally I’m just gonna go in order of who was suggested. Next up is Geto :)

Word count: a little under 1.3k

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“How cute…” you ignored him, jaw clenched tight as sweat dripped down your temple. He was large, much larger than you had ever anticipated and that was honestly saying a lot. Even now, after multiple attempts at this, you still couldn’t get used to the size of him.

Truly you shouldn’t have been shocked when he made you crawl into his lap, just to see you struggle to take him. It was like a power trip for him, watching your thighs tremble in effort to not sink further but not pull away from the pain either.

Douma seemed unbothered, lounging comfortably among his piles of fine silks and pillows. Technicolour eyes observing where he disappeared between your shaking thighs. “Are you sure you don’t want help?” It came out in a sigh, his hand pressing to his cheek as he watched you try and sink a little lower.

“Shut…up…” anyone would be crazy to talk to him like that. It would be the last thing they ever said, especially with that tone. Yet, Douma let you talk to him however you wanted. Why? He found it cute.

“You seem to be struggling little one. Trust me, I could make things work a lot faster.” He cooed, pointed nail trailing up your skin, making you jerk in his lap and cry out. You could hardly catch your breath, knowing well that this process would be a lot more pleasurable for you if you just let him take over.

Yet, you were going against your better judgement and attempting to ride him. The stretch at the angle you were in was nearly unbearable, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to get off him nor change your mind.

“Look at you… making a mess.” His laughter was cold, just as cold as the ever present smile on his face. You knew he was right, your own arousal was starting to drip down your inner thighs. “I said…to shut up.” You choked as you forced yourself to take another inch or so of him.

You were a little over half way there, honestly you couldn’t think much last fitting him. Actually moving once you bottomed out was a completely different battle you’d worry about when it got there.

“Remember what we talked about? About biting the hand that feeds you?” You froze, finally allowing your eyes to meet his. “Be careful how you speak to me, little one.” You knew it was all an act, solely so he could do what he did next. It was a simple movement, his hips jerking up so quickly you couldn’t even prepare yourself for it.

A guttural cry echoed in the chamber as you scrambled for something to hold. Your nails found purchase in the fine silk of his red top, the material bunching a bit at his waist from when he took his belt and pants off. “See, how easy was that?”

You couldn’t speak, the wind knocked from your lungs as you tried to will your body to stop trembling. It was only a matter of seconds before the burning stretch turned to pleasure, but it was still enough to have you seeing stars and praying it would pass. “Cat got your tongue, little one?” Douma smiled, readjusting himself to hold your waist and keep you in place.

He would never get tired of feeling you spasming around him, no matter how many times you stuffed yourself full of his cock you still struggled. He adored it. The pain on your face was just too much for him, how could he not fuck you when you looked so cute struggling.

He’d convince you some day to take his offer, stay by his side and be his eternal play thing.

“Start moving, or I’ll do it for you.” He cooed, gently guiding your waist up. You shivered as you felt him begin to slip out of you, sweat dripping off your temple and down to your bare chest. Douma watched it, tongue darting out to lick his lips. “C’mon little one… don’t keep me waiting.” You nodded, no longer having any will to fight him on his requests.

If you at least amused him by attempting he’d eventually take over and fuck you properly. That was enough to have your body aching as you tried to fuck yourself on his length.

You could barely get him half way out before dropping down again, the pain steadily transitioning to throbbing pleasure as you tried to ignore the burning in your thighs. You felt your face warm as an audible squelch began emitting from between your thighs. The pain from the stretch had disappeared all together, your walls trembling each time he bruised your cervix.

“Little one…” he cooed again, hand leaving your waist to grab your chin. “Just ask, I’ll take over.” His eyes narrowed, the promise of relief was sitting right before you. He could see you struggling to swallow your pride. You always struggled, but you always gave in.

“Master… lord…. Please.” You squeaked, not able to process how you were now on your back, legs thrown over his shoulders with his nails digging into your soft skin. Blood pricked the surface, slowly dripping past the indents Douma’s nails were creating. “So stubborn little one. Look how easy it is to get your way when you listen to me.”

You said nothing, body bracing for him to move. He gave you a once over, smiling at the dried blood and various bite marks he had left on your skin. He would forever be torn between consuming you and keeping you forever. He’d have both if he could.

Douma’s hips drew back before snapping forward again, earning a yell in response. Your cries and whimpers fueled him, hips pounding mercilessly into you after only a few seconds of looking for a good rhythm.

Your head fell back against the cushions, nails digging into the silks. Giving in always pissed you off, but it was hard to stay mad when he was able to hit everywhere just right. As always, you were lost in your own pleasure. You figured out long ago that it was impossible to get Douma to look anything but blissed out.

He’d never let you know he was feeling anything, not even a moan or sigh to let you know you were doing good. The only way you figured Douma even enjoyed himself was when he asked you to come back and do it again. Repetition was your only give away that Douma actually enjoyed your presence.

Then again, he was such a charmer it wouldn’t shock you if he did this kind of thing with the other women in his cult. He promised you he didn’t, but every promise from his lips was typically empty. Unless it was the promise of this…

“Coming already?” He teased as you thrashed against the silk materials decorating his chamber. The addicting clench of your walls around him, the warm gush that he desperately wanted to taste. You could only cry out, letting him abuse your cunt through your high and continue even after you came down.

“You’re so easy, little one. Your pussy is so easy to please.” Your eyes squeezed shut, embarrassment filling your frame as he gushed on and on about how cute you were, how much he loved your cunt, how he could never get tired of it. Even if it was empty compliments, you couldn’t ignore the way your body reacted to them.

Aching for more. Always aching for him.