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softspiderling · 1 month

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est-ce que tu m’aimes? | j.v

summary:

“I am sorry, I-“ you pulled the door open, but to your surprise, you came face to face with the source of your sorrows.

“Jace,” you spoke, voice even, crossing your arms over your chest. “Have you come to throw some more insults? Maybe some at me this time?”

Jace clenched his jaw, his hand on the goddamned sword again. Was he itching to take your head off so badly?

OR; Jace’s reaction truly confuses you, you settle in at Dragonstone and a surprising addition to the team makes themselves known.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader, platonic!daeron targaryen x reader

warnings: Jace being a little mean (we all know he’s capable of it)

word count: 5,6k

author’s note: yoooo pt. 2 is finally here!! i hope you love it sm!!! pls don’t forget to reblog/leave comments etc if you liked it!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“I cannot believe you would let her waltz into our home like that! She’s putting all of us in danger!”

In less than two days, you were sat outside a study as a heated argument about you took place behind closed doors. It was merely a coincidence that it was within the same family.

After Jace had stormed into the council room, meeting you with open hostility, Rhaenerya had asked you to give them some privacy. You had barely left the room before Jace had started spitting ill words about you.

“She saved me, Jace!”

“What if this is some plot for her to put herself in our midst and feed information back to King’s Landing?”

“Was she not residing in Oldtown with Daeron ever since we left for Dragonstone? It is doubtful she has been let in on the plans to usurp the throne.”

Jace let out a frustrated groan and it was silent for a few moments before Rhaenyra spoke again.

“It seems to me you have a different issue with her… Is it because you have feelings for her?”

Your breath stocked in your throat, your hand stilling against the door. Jace’s behavior towards you confused you deeply. It seemed like he harbored resentment, but you weren’t sure when it had started, when you had suddenly become a traitor in his eyes, instead of a friend.

“Don’t be ridiculous, mother.”

The way Jace scoffed hurt you more than ten daggers in your back, and you pressed your lips together, refusing to let the words of a man affect you.

“I only wish to protect you.”

Swallowing thickly, your hands balled into fists and you jumped back when the door suddenly opened, a knight gesturing for you to step in.

Hesitantly, you entered the room, the tensions still high and you looked at Jace, but he refused to meet your eyes, turning his head away.

Rhaenyra on the other hand stepped up you, taking your hand in hers, cradling it gently.

“I will never be able to repay the debt,” she said in a soft voice, her eyes warm. “You saved my son, even though you weren’t obligated to do it. For that, I will offer you a place here, at Dragonstone, and a place in my council, if you wish to take it.”

“Mother!-“

Rhaenyra ignored Jace’s protest, her voice unwavering. “I believe your insight into our enemies will give us an advantage to win this war.”

“I do not wish to cause a drift between you,” you said honestly. “If Jace does not wish for me to stay-“

“It is not his place,” Rhaenyra said and Jace only scoffed. You fought the urge to glare at him, you didn’t want to antagonize him even further.

“Thank you, your Grace,” you said, lowering your head. “I would very much like to stay.”

Frankly, you wouldn’t know where to go, had Rhaenyra not offered for you to stay, you weren’t sure what expected you, would you return to King’s Landing; it surely wouldn’t go over well.

“And the seat on the council?”

You pressed your lips together. It was an honor, an offer like that, but you could tell Jace wanted you to say no with the way he was looking at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

“May I think about it?”

“Of course,” Rhaenyra said, squeezing your hand. “Ser Lorent, escort the Lady to her chambers. I think the ones in the West Wing will be fitting.”

Ser Lorent bowed, before gesturing his arm out to you. “My Lady, if you please follow me.”

You bowed your head to Rhaenyra, turning to leave, but just before you stepped over the threshold of the room, you glanced back. Luke gave you a small smile, but Jace had turned his back to you again. You tried not to let it go to your head, but your mind was racing with questions after Ser Lorent had dropped you off in your chambers.

The sun was shining through the windows when you awoke the next day. You had chosen to take supper in your chambers the night before, trying to give Jace some space. There had been no maid to wake you, so it must still be early. A loud clang of swords floated up from outside and you wrapped a robe around your shoulders as you got out of the bed, glancing out the window.

It turned out that your chambers laid directly above the training grounds, where Jace and Luke were currently in the middle of training. It was nice to see Jace without a scowl on his face for a change, and you took the opportunity to look at him.

He had grown into a very fine Prince, his hair long, curling around his face, his cheekbones high. You had always known he’d grow up to be very handsome. It was hard to imagine he’s the same boy who had told you to write to him every day.

Now, he hadn’t spoken to you a single word after his agitated discussion with his mother.

“Lift your sword up higher when you are in offense, but when someone is advancing on you, make sure to defend the lower part of yourself as well.”

Luke sighed, dropping the point of his sword on the ground, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his tunic. “We have been training since the sun has risen, can we go break fast now?”

“No, you need this.”

“What am I to do with a sword when Aemond descends upon me with Vhagar? Slash at her wings?” Luke scoffed. “I’m not lacking in swordsmanship.”

You pressed yourself against the window as Jace laid a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, lending him comfort similar in a way you have done with Daeron.

“It will not happen again, Luke. I will make sure Aemond will not get the chance to get near you again.”

Jace let out a breath, his face pained, you could even see it from a distance.

“It was foolish of me to suggest we go deliver the messages,” Jace sighed. “I should’ve gone with you, you had no protection. I never would have forgiven myself if something had happened to you.”

“Jace…” Luke looked at his brother, his forehead creased. “It wasn’t your fault. Our uncle behaved himself with no honor.”

“I should have expected that.” Jace smiled at him wryly. “You were lucky to escape Vhagar when you did.”

“I wasn’t lucky, I had help.”

Jace let out a loud sigh, giving Luke a squeeze on the shoulder.

“Let us go break fast, then.”

“Oh so now you want to end training,” Luke nagged, resheating his sword. “Because I mentioned Lady-“

“Do not speak her name to me,” Jace snapped, stopping Luke in the middle of his sentence.

Luke only sighed at his older brother.

“Jace… None of this is her doing. You cannot-“

A knock on your door quickly made you push away from the window, your cheeks red, almost having been caught eavesdropping.

The two young women standing in front of your chambers gave you a friendly smile, their hair - already twisted in intricate fashion despite the early hour - immediately told you of their parentage.

“You must be Baela and Rhaena.”

One of them, you assumed Baela, as she was wearing riding gear and last you had heard, Rhaena had yet to claim a dragon, inclined her head in yes. You gave them a smile.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. I’m-“

“Oh we have heard all about you.”

Rhaena gave Baela a jab in the side, glaring at her sister and even though Baela had fallen into your word, it did not seem like she had done it in chargrin, as she had a friendly look on her face.

“We were about to break fast. Her Grace asked us to extend the invitation to you,” Rhaena said and you nodded.

“Thank you. Let me get dressed and I will meet you in the dining hall.”

After getting dressed and making yourself presentable, you made your way to the dining hall. Well, you tried, at least. The keep was much bigger than you had anticipated. Finally you rounded the corner, thinking you had reached the dining hall, but instead you were standing in a hallway that split into three more hallways.

“I could have sworn this was the way to the dining hall,” you muttered to yourself, looking around in confusion, when someone called your name.

“… Are you lost?”

Luke stepped out of his chambers, lingering in the doorway. He must have gotten changed after training in the pit, his doublet a little askew as he walked towards you.

“I was exploring the keep.”

Luke gave you a suspicious look, a grin growing on his face.

“How long have you been wandering around?”

“Why do you assume I wasn’t waiting for you to walk me to the dining hall?”

Luke laughed, offering you his arm, which you accepted gratefully as the two of you walked together. You found it was easy to converse with Luke, he was telling you about Arrax and how he has been faring ever since you got back, and that he wished for some more meat instead of fish. His cheeky grin reminded you a lot of Daeron when he was pulling one of his jests on his uncle. It was nice, to have something to remind you of home in a place that felt so unfamiliar.

“And here we are, at the dining hall,” Luke announced as you stepped into a completely different hallway, the large doors to the dining hall open.

“I never would have found my own way here,” you admitted and Luke laughed.

“I know.”

Judging by the sound of easy conversation coming out of the hall, you were the last to arrive. You were hesitant, unwilling to cause any tension but Luke tugged on your arm, sensing your discomfort.

“Come. You shall sit with me.”

You relented, following the young boy inside. The conversation at the table ceased as you entered, everyone bidding you a good morrow. Well, almost everyone.

“Have you slept well?” Rhaenyra asked as you sat down next to Luke. You nodded, giving her a smile.

“Yes, thank you. I am very grateful that you have offered for me to stay. And for the clothes, of course.“

Next to Rhaenyra, her lord husband Daemon only gave you a subdued smirk.

“It appears we are the ones who have to offer our thanks,” he said, his fingers circling the brim of his cup. “You acted when it was easier to do nothing. You showed true courage.”

“Please,” you said, nearly melting into your seat out of embarrassment. “I did what was right.”

You ignored how Jace visibly rolled his eyes, turning his head as he took a sip from his cup. He seemed incredibly displeased by this all.

“You should have seen her,” Luke said, nodding fervently. “She leapt from Vhagar to Arrax just above the clouds like it was a small jump over a beck.”

“That sounds terrifying,” Rhaena said and you nodded.

“It was. I truly do not know what came over me in that instant.”

“Sometimes we don’t know how brave we are until the moment asks for it,” Rhaenyra said with an encouraging smile and you nodded, your cheeks red. Thankfully this scene of praising you was interrupted by the servants starting to serve food.

“You have been living most of your recent name days in Oldtown, is that right?” Baela asked curiously, leaning towards you.

“Yes, Alicent sent Daeron to Oldtown and asked me to accompany him to make the distance from home easier.”

You have always thought it cruel of Alicent to send Daeron away from his family, his siblings. But now you wondered if Daeron was better off for it.

“It was really different from King’s Landing. The grandmaesters were incredibly wise and I have learned a lot from the them,” you told her, a smile on your face. “Daeron of course always dragged his feet, but I knew he enjoyed it as well.”

“How old is Daeron now?” Luke asked, swallowing his food.

“Eight and ten,” you answered. “Not quite a man just yet, even if he believes otherwise.”

The family laughed, and even Jacaerys cracked a smile, though it seemed more unkind than the rest.

“That seems to be running on his side of the family, no?” he asked, taking a sip from his cup. His voice was so cutting, and the light mood seemed to dissipate at once. “Aegon, Aemond, none of them display characteristics of a what a real man is… I wonder if Daeron turned out any better than his usurping and kinslaying brothers, though I-“

Before Jace could continue, you slammed both of your hands on the table as you stood, the tableware clattering. The table grew quiet, the tension thick as everyone laid their eyes on you, but you paid them no mind, your focus on Jace as you glared at him, and he seemed surprised at your outburst.

“Please excuse me,” you pressed out, eyes gleaming with anger. You barely waited for Rhaenyra to excuse you as you left the table, your food still untouched on your place.

As you hasten out of the dining room, you could hear Rhaenyra raising her voice.

“-unacceptable behavior!”

“Why are you all rushing to her defense? Or Daeron’s? She’s just being sensitive!”

“I have lived with you about as long as she has with Daeron,” Rhaena argued. “Would you not come to my defense if someone spoke ill about me?”

You didn’t wait to hear Jace’s answer rushing past the Queensguard that was standing by the door. By some miracle, you easily found your way back to your chambers, the heavy door falling shut as you threw yourself on the bed, letting out a scream of frustration.

You were at a loss.

Jace seemed to use every opportunity to antagonize you, treating you like an enemy instead of a friend he had grown up with. You were no damsel in distress who couldn’t handle tough words, but it was to hard to hear them from someone you harbored feelings for.

You wished you could talk to someone about this. You wished you could talk to Daeron about this. A part of you longed for the days when you were in Oldtown, before any of this occurred.

A knock brought you out of your thoughts and you lifted your head from the cushions, frowning.

“I wish to be alone for a little longer,” you called out. It was probably a handmaiden Rhaenyra had sent to check up on you. You hoped she would respect your wishes, but the knocking didn’t cease and with a small sigh, you pulled yourself up, heading to the door.

“I am sorry, I-“ you pulled the door open, but to your surprise, you came face to face with the source of your sorrows.

“Jace,” you spoke, voice even, crossing your arms over your chest. “Have you come to throw some more insults? Maybe some at me this time?”

Jace clenched his jaw, his hand on the goddamned sword again. Was he itching to take your head off so badly?

“I have been told that my behavior this morning was unbefitting for a Prince,” he ground out, the words like gravel in his mouth. “I’m here to extend an apology.”

You bit back a scoff, rolling your eyes. “Fine. Go ahead, then.”

He guffawed at your words.

“If you are going to be like this, I am not sure it makes much sense for me to apologize,” Jace said haughtily and you snorted.

“If I were to believe that a single word of your apology were genuine, I would readily accept it.”

Jace only scoffed, shaking his head but not denying your accusation. His nostrils were flared and you searched for his eyes, but he refused to meet your gaze. Exhaling softly, trying to let go of your anger, you uncrossed your arms, letting them fall to your sides.

“Why are you so angry?”

Suddenly, Jace’s eyes snapped up to yours, his lips parted in disbelief.

“My mother’s claim to the throne has been stolen by her usurper brother, my uncle! Whereas my other uncle tried to murder Luke, and you ask why I’m angry?”

You let out a small sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Forgive me, I should have been more clear. Let me rephrase,” you said. “Why are you angry with me?”

Jace took a step back, surprised by your question.

“You treat me like I myself have usurped the throne, Jace.”

You looked at Jace expectantly; his mouth opening, like he wanted to say something, before he closed it again, his words unspoken. Before you could demand an answer, hurried steps came down the hallway, Ser Lorent appearing, stopping next to your chambers. Jace seemed relieved at the distraction as the knight inclined his head at him.

“My Prince, the Queen has requested your presence for the council meeting.”

Jace nodded, giving you one last glance before stepping towards Ser Lorent, expecting him to leave right away, but Ser Lorent turned his eyes on you.

“You as well, my Lady.”

Jace let out a scoff and turned on his heel without waiting.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath as he stalked away. You sighed, glancing at Ser Lorent but he only extended his hand in silent invitation, leaving you no choice but to go with him.

The painted table in the council room was already fully seated, save for one empty space, two seats down from Jace. Most of the council consisted of lords of various houses, who eyed you sceptically as you took your seat next to Baela.

“What is a girl like her doing at a council meeting?” The Lord sat across from you asked, clear disdain on his face. You only stared back at him, not knowing how to answer yourself, but disliking his tone towards you only for the fact that you were not a man.

“This girl,” Jace replied, and you already resigned to another slight at you, “Has saved my brother up thousand feet on the air with no training. What have you achieved for my mother, Lord Bartimos?”

Lord Bartimos only let out an aggrieved sigh as he leaned back in his seat, while you turned to Jace with a surprised look on your face. He didn’t meet your eyes. Luke on the other hand, was ducking his head to hide a grin, failing miserably.

“She can offer us insights into the plan of the usurpers,” Rhaenyra said, effectively stopping any more arguments. “I hope we can avoid any bloodshed.”

“Avoid?” Daemon asked, leaning forward with a crease in his forehead. “They blatantly attacked a messenger after you wished for some time to think about their offer.”

“Daemon is right.”

Jace’s voice was strong as he agreed with Daemon, his shoulders tight.

“This is not the time to sit back and watch their plans unfold. We have come too close to unimaginable tragedy.”

Jace’s eyes flickered to his younger brother, before he turned to look to his mother. “We need to fight back.”

Rhaenyra opened her mouth, seemingly to disagree with her eldest son, but a commotion outside caught everyone’s attention.

“Dragon!”

“It’s a dragon with a rider!”

Everyone at the table looked at each other, unsure of what was happening when a knight from the watch outside came storming into the room.

“Your Grace!” he called, bowing quickly. “There has been a dragon sighted with a rider, he’s headed straight for Dragonstone.”

Rhaenyra’s forehead creased in concern.

“Do we know who it is?”

“No, your Grace.”

Rhaenyra stood, her strides quick as she walked outside, the rest of you were not too far behind her. Outside, the folks were rushing in, trying to get to safety from an imminent attack from the dragon.

“I will mount Moondancer,” Baela said, already turning on her heel but Rhaenyra stopped her, shaking her head.

“No. We do not know his intention yet, another dragon might provoke him into attacking.”

You lifted your eyes to the sky, sight blinded by the sun for the first few moments. The dragon’s movements seemed familiar to you, and as your vision adjusted, you let out a laughter, relief coursing through you.

“That’s Tessarion!” you exlaimed, turning to Rhaenyra with a smile. “It’s Daeron!”

You broke out in a run, skirt of your dress lifted as you skidded down the stoney hill, ignoring how Jacaerys was yelling after you to wait.

Tessarion landed on the green grass, stretching her orange-blue wings, as Daeron slid off his saddle, feet on solid ground again. He oriented himself looking around, before relief took over his face when he saw you.

“Sister!”

“Daeron!”

You fell around his arms like countless times before and he held you so tightly, you were afraid he’d never let you go.

“You promised,” he whispered into your neck in a choked voice. “You promised you wouldn’t abandon me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry,” you mumbled, squeezing Daeron. You didn’t let go of him until his hold on you lessened, knowing he needed to realize that you were, and not gone. Pushing his hair out of his face, you gave him a watery smile.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Brother.”

Rhaenyra’s voice brought you back to reality, as the both of you stood straight, Rhaenyra’s face null of emotion. Jace was furious, his eyes flitting between you and Daeron continuously, while Daemon stood behind Rhaenyra.

“Are you here to deliver a message from the false King that is your brother?”

“I am not a messenger,” Daeron said, his voiced heated. “And as I recall he’s your brother as well.”

His tone is starting to border on disrespect so you glanced over to him, your eyebrows creased. Daeron let out a small sigh.

“I hold no loyalty to my brother,” he added, his voice softer. “Nor am I here to deliver any messages.”

“Then what is your purpose of being here?”

“I’m here because she is,” Daeron answered simply, squeezing your hand. “She has been more kin to me than either Aegon or Aemond. I want to stay on Dragonstone, if you allow it. Fight alongside you.”

“Are we offering shelter for anyone who comes here now?”

Jace’s voice was directed at Rhaenyra, but Daeron narrowed his eyes at him.

“What happened to him?” he muttered to you under his breath. “I do not recall him being this miserable.”

“Daeron!” you hissed, the corners of your mouth tugging up anyways. Jace scoffed, taking a step forward, only to be stopped by Rhaenyra.

“If you are willing to trust me, you have to trust Daeron,” you said, looking at Rhaenyra. You understood that she was wary, she and Daeron barely spent any time together, he was a stranger to her. But you hoped that her trust in you was only half as strong as your trust in Daeron. “If anything, it adds another dragon on your side.”

Rhaenyra regarded you with a impressed smile, giving a small nod.

“Very well. You might stay, Daeron,” she said; behind her, Jacaerys and Daemon exchanged a look, neither of them happy about her decision. “However, I wish to speak with you, alone.”

Daeron nodded, and you squeezed his hand as you followed Rhaenyra back inside the keep, trying not to let Jace’s piercing eyes on you bother you.

“I think it odd. Seeing Rhaenyra again after all this time. My sister.”

You were sitting out in the grass, Daeron’s head in your lap as he talked. He had spent the last two hours in the council room speaking to Rhaenyra. You weren’t sure what exactly they had talked about, but when they both came out, they seemed calm, almost peaceful. You didn’t pry, knowing that Daeron would share whatever he felt comfortable with.

“Does she feel like kin to you?” you asked, knowing how distant Rhaenyra was to Alicent’s children, even when they were younger.

Daeron shrugged, ripping up a blade of grass with his hand.

“She was polite enough. She knows what advantage she has having me on her side. I cannot see us become closer,” he said. “Like us.”

Daeron peered up at you with a grin and you rolled your eyes. Something was still nagging at you, and you knew it wouldn’t leave your head until you had answers

“What happened when Aemond got back? How did you know I was here?”

Daeron’s smile dimmed a little and he looked away, his eyes focusing on the blue sky above you.

“I was already searching for you by the time Aemond returned. I could tell by the look on his face that something had happened, so he told me that he had been out in Storm’s End to secure pledges for Aegon, and that you had come with. Luke had arrived just shortly after Aemond had negotiated with Lord Borros and he got angry, starting a fight, bringing up what had happened at Driftmark.”

Your brows furrowed. You had suspected that Aemond wouldn’t tell the truth, but blaming Lucerys for his bad temper? Anything to paint you as the villain.

“Aemond said you took Luke’s side, your feelings for Jace swaying you.”

Your cheeks reddened. You hadn’t realized that your affections for Jace were so apparent that Aemond would take notice. Daeron continued, unperturbed.

“- and that was when Aemond returned to King’s Landing.”

“That’s not-“

Before you could finish, Daeron interrupted you, his eyes finding yours again.

“I know, Rhaenyra told me what truly happened.”

“But did you really believe what Aemond had told you? That I would just go with Luke because of an argument, leave you?”

Daeron shrugged with his shoulders, his eyes downcast.

“I did not want to. But what was I supposed to do? Call Aemond a liar? I don’t think that would have gone well,” he argued. “I did not have choice but to accept his truth as mine.”

“Then why did you come here if you thought me a traitor?”

Stilling, Daeron pressed his lips together.

“Helaena… She was behaving peculiar… I was sitting with her in the day room, watching Jahaerys and Jahaera play, and all she kept saying was “To save her brother, you must trust your sister” while looking between me and Jahaera,” he told you and you frowned.

To save her brother, you must trust your sister?

“What does that mean?”

“I am not quite sure,” Daeron said, shaking his head. “But I knew it must mean that Aemond was not telling the truth, that you had left because of something else.”

You bit back a smile; it amused you how Daeron did not hesitate to think of you when someone mentioned his sister, but hummed in thought, unsatisfied with his words.

“What if she did not mean me? What if she was talking about Rhaenyra?”

The sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel leading up to the small cliff made the two of you paused. You both looked up just to see Jace arrive to the top, stopping at the edge of the field stiffly. Daeron propped himself up on his elbows, glancing to you, then back to Jace slowly before he got to his feet, dusting off his clothes.

“I should go to the dragon mount. See how Tessarion is faring.”

You knew exactly what he was trying to do and you shook your head quickly, pulling yourself up.

“Daeron…!” you almost shouted, but the young Prince already departed. As he passed Jace, the older gave him an almost imperceptible nod, before Daeron disappeared down the hill. You let out a small frustrated huff, your eyes flickering to Jace before you turned away again. His steps were careful as he came closer, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, not looking at him as he came to a stop next to you.

You were the first to speak.

“I am surprised you didn’t call Daeron a traitor as he passed you.”

In hindsight, you could have chosen less biting words. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Jace clench his jaw.

“I wouldn’t.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I am not!” Jace sighed. “I did not come to argue with you.”

“Then what have you come for?”

Jace fell silent again and you shook your head in exasperation. It was hard for you to read him; he seemingly had made it a habit to guard his emotions. When Jace finally spoke again, his words surprised you.

“I always envied him.”

“What?”

“Daeron,” he clarified. “When you wrote to me that you were to be sent to Oldtown with Daeron, I was furious. I begged mother to let you come with us, but she said it would be seen as disrespectful towards Alicent. She wanted to avoid a fight.” Jace scoffed, shaking his head. “The irony does not escape me.”

He paused, his gaze on the horizon. Two dragons had made their way out of the dragon mount, flying in the sky, stretching their wings. One, you were able to recognize as Vermax, with his orange green scales. He had grown exponentially since the last time you saw him. The other dragon was unfamiliar to you, but the dragons seemed to have a bond as they flew around each other playfully. You took your eyes off of the dragons to look at Jace. He was already looking at you, his cheeks pink.

“I looked forward to your letters every day,” Jace admitted, ducking his head. “… It eased my longing, if only slightly.”

Your lips pursed into a pleased smile.

“You longed for me?” you teased.

“Did you not long for me?” he asked quite bluntly, his eyes searching yours. “Or was what you had enough for you?”

Letting out a small huff, you shook your head, knowing what he was insinuating; the same thing that Aemond had hinted at only a few days prior.

“Daeron and I are like brother and sister, I do not long for him in any way than you do for Luke.”

Jace nodded, his smile delighted. But you let out a sigh, wringing your hands.

“If you truly felt like this… Why have you treated me so horribly ever since I’ve been here? Why have you stopped replying to my letters?”

“It’s not…” Jace trailed off, pulling his face into a frown. “After we received the news of my grandsire’s passing, mother has been on edge, preparing for war. We all have. And I felt guilty, I didn’t want to be distracted by anything, and whenever one of your letters arrived, I couldn’t get my mind on anything else than sitting down to write back to you. So I just… Stopped answering. And I thought I could write to you when all of this is over, but then you were suddenly… Here.”

Jace broke off, pressing his lips together. “You were supposed to stay in Oldtown, far away from the war that is brewing. Now you quite literally launched yourself right into the middle of it all. I thought it incredulous that you would just show up and save my brother… Like in a dream.”

Your chest ached. You had not realized how worried Jace was for you.

“But you thought I was spying for information,” you reminded him.

“I didn’t really believe you would be capable of doing so… But I couldn’t let my feelings cloud my judgement. Mother counts on me, and as her heir, I have to fulfill my duties.”

Biting your lip, you nodded, your chin low. While you understood why Jace had been behaving the way he was, it still hurt to be treated that way.

“I dislike causing you anguish,” he said quietly. “Can you find it in yourself to forgive me?”

“The way to forgiveness may not be easy,” you warned him, a small smile on your face. “I am not known for being very forgiving.”

“Then it will be so much more rewarding,” Jace quipped, smiling at you.

The both of you fell into a comfortable silence, staring out in the distance, the dragons dancing in the sky. You almost flinched when you felt Jace hesitantly reach for your hand; it was the first time he let go of the hilt of his sword since you got to Dragonstone. Swallowing nervously, you laced your fingers with his, feeling the tension bleed away from his limbs. For a while, you just stood there, hand in hand, lending each other comfort in the silence. A silence Jace soon broke.

“Do you want to go for a ride on Vermax?”

Your eyes lit up at the sudden invitation, but you held your excitement at bay, not wanting to seem too eager. Seeing Jace’s face however, it told you that you better work on masking your emotions. While the imminent war brewing in the near future scares you, you didn’t want to forego small moments of happiness, you were sure the war held plenty of misery and frustration. You would enjoy every single smile you could shed.

“I’d love to.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: before you ask, i’m not planning on writing another part! maybe a few drabbles in the future! 🫶🏼

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #jace x reader #jacaerys x you #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon fic

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gyuswhore · 3 months

Text

Grease (the tragedy)

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”

jeon wonwoo x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!

synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.

[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe

and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh

and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!

masterlist

[You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???

Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here.

It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents.

[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7 [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine

Today 7:20 PM

[You]: im here?

The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.

So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations.

Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway.

The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too.

You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table.

“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”

He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!

It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway.

“O–oh, I see.”

The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order.

Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink.

“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”

“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”

Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved.

The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time.

“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”

“Her husband.”

“I see.”

Silence.

“How do you know her husband?”

He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either.

“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”

“Workshop?”

He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence.

One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave.

“What kind of cars do you work on?”

“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”

“Have I heard of it?”

“The cars?”

“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”

“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”

You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.

“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”

“Family business?”

“Uh–sort of.”

“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”

“Is there a problem?”

Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion.

“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least.

“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.

“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”

There isn’t much you can do but stare at him.

“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing.

“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving.

Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him.

“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”

Did he…snort?

“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself.

“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever.

“Nothing.”

That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth.

If he was gonna be rude, you could be too.

“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”

Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”

“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”

“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”

Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco.

“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”

“For laughing?”

“And for being obscenely late.”

“And?”

“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”

“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.”

Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”

“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”

The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”

“More like I don’t care to be personable.”

“That can’t be good for business.”

“The cars speak for themselves.”

He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances.

“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after.

“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”

The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”

“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!”

There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck.

Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”

The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks.

“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”

“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”

“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”

Lies, it was entirely her fault.

Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.

“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"

“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”

“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”

“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”

“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”

“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”

Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside.

That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire.

“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”

How fitting.

“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?”

You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again.

Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”

“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact.

“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”

What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little.

You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop.

The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway.

The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators.

Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of.

“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag.

To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.

“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask.

“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?”

No, just a failed love interest.

“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”

“Do you need help with your car?”

“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”

With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside.

By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things.

At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.

“Am I late for something again?”

Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face.

“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.

“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”

“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”

He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.

Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all.

A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage.

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you.

You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”

“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.”

Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”

“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard.

“So you can fix it?”

“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”

Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”

“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”

It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”

“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.”

“Because that’s gonna cost…?”

“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine.

“But—” That’s it?

“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you.

“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work.

The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him.

Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular.

Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close.

“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”

Wonwoo stares pointedly.

You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”

He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”

“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row.

Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”

“What does it do?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Touché.”

Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”

Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”

“You’re impossible.”

He smirks, “Touché.”

You questioned if this was a mistake.

Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.

The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course.

But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again.

Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke.

Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t.

Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…

The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos.

“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”

“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”

“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”

He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”

“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.

He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”

You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often.

Goodness, what’s gotten into you.

Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving.

“Shall we go to the office then?”

Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra.

“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”

It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.

“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed.

Cute.

There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet.

You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”

“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”

“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup.

He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”

You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”

He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side.

As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”

“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”

“I can make an exception or two,” he grins.

“And if you charge me double?”

“Might not charge you at all.”

“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space.

“Might.”

“And what’re the conditions for that?”

He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”

You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”

He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”

“Hm?”

“Can I? Let you know?”

It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying.

“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues.

You hesitate. “I think so too.”

“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–”

“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”

He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”

“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”

“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.”

“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease.

You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name.

Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea.

“Are you doing anything else today?”

“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”

He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”

You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.

This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.

He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly.

Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”

He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.

“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”

If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?

“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”

You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside.

Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt.

When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay.

“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”

Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly.

That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination.

“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”

He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars.

There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer.

“Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”

“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”

You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway.

“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched.

“Fuck, yes you can.”

With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”

You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top.

Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers.

You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs.

Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster.

“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”

He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace.

You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth.

The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees.

You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy.

“There,” he pants. “Almost.”

You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly.

“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”

And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs.

The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support.

“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him.

He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”

You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”

And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you.

And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash.

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mvrtaiswriting · 1 year

Note

Hey! Someone suggested your blog for one piece and I decided to check it out!

I’d also like to make a request

How would the monster trio(+katakuri if you wanna write for him) be with a s/o who always looks at them as if asking them for permission to beat some one up (you can add anyone else if you want) f!reader or gn! Reader whichever one

Headcanons pls<3

Have a great day!

Monster trio + Ace, Law and Usopp with a s/o who looks at them before fighting someone.

hullo, thanks for requesting this! i unfortunately dont write for katakuri but i added law and ace to the mix, i hope it's fine! enjoy this lil headcanons, i loved writing these!! also, using this as a chance to restate that requests are open!

warning: none. gn! reader.

feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.

Luffy: All it takes is a glare. It doesn't take long for Luffy to recognise the sparkle in your eyes. He feels it too; the tension building in your muscles, the adrenaline rising up in your veins making your heart beat ten times faster than usual. Lowering his straw-hat to cover his eyes, Luffy simply chuckles in response. He knows your potential and he is curious of the limits your able to reach and break. He takes this as a good opportunity to train and test your powers; nevertheless, he is watching your back and ready to step in.

Sanji: Sanji smirks and lights up a cigarette, making himself comfortable and untying his tie. He knows well that whoever crosses your path is in real danger - and he brags about it whenever he has the occasion to. He is overly proud of you; plus, winning a fight would always guarantee a special treatment from him. Preparing your favourite meal, smothering you in kisses, an endless ramble of praises. He enjoys the fight, making sure you don't get hurt as he meticulously observe your combat moves.

Zoro: Zoro tries to make you back off. Despite his love and respect for you, he would rather let you stay away from the battlefield. He is aware of your combat abilities, he just thinks it would be easier if you'd let his swords deal with it. Nevertheless, it's easy to convince him if you buy him an extra bottle of booze. After all, despite his protective instincts, he enjoys a partner who can fight and protect themselves. Seeing you go feral and win a fight always tickles his senses.. so you might be in for a good, particularly nasty training session afterwards.

additional characters:

Law: Law definitely doesn't approve your conflictual nature. Although he is a little trouble maker himself, he prefers approaching things, and fights, in a more methodical way - having a precise strategy, and more importantly, a reason. Getting caught up in a worthless fight would mean catching the marine's attention, and that would be dangerous. When he sees you joining the battlefield regardless, he sighs and stands back. But if you manage to get hurt.. be ready to hear him grumble under his breath about irresponsible you were as he medicates you.

Ace: You and Ace would meet looks, the same impulsive idea running through the synapses of your brain. He nods in response, a clever smirk drawing on his lips as he transforms the ramble in a challenge.

"First one to land a punch wins."

Usopp: Tries to discourage you from it. He knows you would be perfectly able to win the fight - but he also knows he would struggle to help you. Your fearless nature worries Usopp, and sometimes it makes him wonder how the two of you get so along. Dangerous situation fuel you, whilst he prefers running from them. Usopp would never give you the permission to battle someone if the situation permits a safe escape - a long, frustrated sighs is the only slightly positive answer you could receive. And when you jump head first in the battle, he whines and snorts, ready to snipe the enemy if the situation escalates.

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yuyusuyu · 1 year

Text

the princess treatment chronicles!

pairing. non idol! best friend! song mingi x non idol! fem! reader

synopsis. the five times you accidentally completed the steps that would make mingi swoon also known as the five times you accidentally gave him princess treatment and he kept falling harder for you each time

warnings. mentions of food, getting sick, fire (someone get mingi away from the grill), cursing (wooyoung naur)

genres. romance, fluff, comedy, best friends to something more

ft. non idol! ateez

wc. 3k

pt 2. here !

a/n. happy birthday to our lovely mingi :( (this was supposed to be posted in two days wtaf 😭 guys pls just ignore and pretend it was posted on his bday 😭 my queue os my biggest enemy now)

reblogs and comments are appreciated! helps with not getting shadowbanned!

MINGI has a list. it's a special list to him, one that speaks volumes about him.

speaks volumes about a step-by-step process on how to make him, song mingi, fall in love with someone.

now, this list is hidden in his notes app, and the physical copy of this is hidden in one of his math notebooks from high school. he is the only person to know about this list, other than his best friend, of course (only because yunho accidentally saw him writing it out instead of doing math homework with him).

yunho calls it 'a step-by-step guide to the princess treatment' but mingi likes to correct his friend, telling him that it's actually called 'the way to song mingi's heart.'

yunho likes to call it otherwise.

but what does that have to do with you? well, for starters, mingi met you through yunho. it was completely accidental. according to yunho, he was never going to introduce you because you're like a little sister to him and you might end up stealing mingi from him by being your lovable self. instead of that happening, you two had instantly clicked and the three of you became a little trio, one that somehow always managed to spend time with each other everyday.

crazy.

how mingi and yunho managed to keep the list a secret from you, they have no idea (and yunho has no idea why mingi doesn’t want you knowing. the three of you tell each other everything to the point that it can be seen as oversharing at times), how they’ve managed to keep this list hidden from you for so long—three years, to be exact.

until now, that is.

STEP ONE TO MAKE SONG MINGI FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: RUN INTO A PUBLIC PLACE IN A DRAMATIC MANNER WITH SOMETHING OF IMPORTANCE TO MINGI ! (IT SHOWS THAT YOU CARE VERY MUCH ABOUT HIM TO THE POINT OF NOT CARING ABOUT HOW OTHER PEOPLE SEE YOU)

mingi frowns as he looks down at his phone, eyebrows furrowed when he looks up at yunho. “she’s ten minutes late.”

yunho nods, also frowning. “maybe something came up and that’s why she’s running late?”

slumping down in his seat, mingi sighs, grumbling, “yeah, but she would’ve texted us by now if something happened. you know how yn is…”

the bells of the café entrance chimes, signaling the appearance of a customer. mingi, at this point, has given up checking if every new customer that walks into the café is you. he folds his arms on the table, resting his head as he pouts.

“oh yn!”

and then he immediately perks up in his seat, excitedly turning around to face you. yunho gets up, giving you a hug before ushering you into the seat next to mingi’s.

“i’m so sorry,” you wheeze, “i was going to text the group chat but then my phone died.”

yunho tilts his head. “your phone died? you don’t usually use your phone while you have a shift at the restaurant.”

“i don’t,” you say, running a hand through your tousled hair. “but i forgot to charge my phone before i left my place, and then when i went to that doughnut place, the lines were ridiculously long but i was already in line so i decided to suck it up and—"

“woah,” laughs mingi. “slow down.”

“sorry,” you mumble, sighing and taking in a breath before continuing. “i went to the doughnut place that just opened up. i read on a forum that wednesday afternoons are usually the slowest, so i decided i’d stop by before coming over to the cafe to study with you guys. when i got there, there was already a line that was about to start wrapping around the store, so i had to beat this lady next to me that wanted to get in line.”

“a lady,” yunho repeats, chuckling.

you hum. “yeah. i beat her to it, by the way. anyway, i was checking the time and saw it was already nearing the time we decided on, so i was in the middle of sending a text when my phone died.” you take out your phone from your tote bag along with a box.

it’s then that cogs in mingi’s brain starts working when he eyes the cursive lettering on the box.

“oh, isn’t that the doughnut place mingi’s been wanting to try out?” yunho asks, hands stretching out to grab the box.

you slap his hands, earning a laugh from the taller male as he brings them back to his side. “yes,” you reply, side-eyeing yunho. “meaning this isn’t for you.”

grabbing the box, you sheepishly smile at mingi, handing it over to him. “i know you’ve been trying to find the time to go over and try their doughnuts, but since my workplace is closer… i mean, why not?”

“excuse us for a second,” mingi mumbles, leaving you confused as he grabs yunho’s arm and drags him over to a corner in the cafe. once you’re out of earshot, mingi clears his throat. “what the hell was that?”

“what was what?” whispers yunho, blinking as he watches mingi glance over at you. you’re in the middle of trying to tame down your wild hair.

“she just completed step one.”

yunho gasps, turning mingi around by his shoulders. “no way,” he says. “did you tell her about the list?”

“what? no!” he cries out. “how did she even do it? yunho, i swear if you told her—”

“that’s not my secret to tell!” yunho whisper-shouts. “listen, this was probably a one time thing. there’s no way she even knows about it. plus, maybe she was just feeling a little generous today towards you!”

mingi slowly nods. “yeah,” he mumbles. “yeah, you’re right. let’s head back before yn starts asking questions…”

yunho was not right.

STEP TWO: IN MINGI’S TIME OF NEED, DO WHATEVER YOU CAN IN ORDER TO MAKE HIM FEEL HAPPY (THIS IS TO SHOW THAT YOU WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HIM NO MATTER WHAT TIME IT IS OR WHAT YOU’RE DOING)

mingi grumbles as he kicks his shoes off and drops his things on the floor by the door, closing it and shuffling over to his room as he angrily sends a text to the group chat.

it’s already one in the morning. yunho is most likely gaming and you’re most likely already sleeping. regardless, mingi still sends a text and doesn’t bother waiting for an answer as he flops down into his bed face-first.

he barely manages to make out the sound of his phone ringing. he blindly searches for his phone until his hand finally finds it. grunting, he brings it to his face, his eyes squinting at the screen from the brightness in comparison to his dark room.

yn: you still have your spare key in the same place, right?

mingi: i thought you had my spare after last time?

he sees that you’re in the middle of typing, so he waits until you finally send another message.

yn: oh

yn: yeah, you’re right. just found it on my keychain

mingi: i’m always right

yn: mmmmmm i wouldn’t say that but sure…

mingi: bruh

again, the typing bubble pops up on his screen before it disappears. mingi’s a bit confused, he won’t lie. he thought you would already be sleeping, but you weren’t. he snorts. “she asked me about my spare key instead of what’s wrong…?”

he shakes his head, stuffing it into his pillow. “whatever,” he mumbles.

mingi swears he’d only closed his eyes for a brief moment when the sound of his door unlocking fills the air. he stiffens in his bed before scrambling off, fumbling to find something to protect himself. he unplugs the lamp by his nightstand and grips it tightly, quietly tiptoeing towards his door.

“mingi?”

“yn, what the hell?” mingi groans, stepping out of his room and walking into the living room area of his apartment.

you narrow your eyes in confusion, pointing at the lamp he’s still holding. “why do you have a lamp in your hand?”

“the real question here is why are you here?” he huffs, leaning down to put the lamp on the floor. mingi then crosses his arms over his chest, “and why aren’t you sleeping?”

“i was about to sleep,” you say, walking past mingi and into his room. he follows you, his mouth open in surprise. “but then you texted that you had a shit day, so here i am.” you drop the bag you’re holding onto his bed, turning around. “now why the hell did you have a lamp in your hand?”

mingi clears his throat. “i, uh, thought someone was breaking in…”

you snort, sitting on his bed and patting the space next to the bag. “that’s funny, mings. no one is going to break in if you’re a broke college student.”

huffing, he grumbles as he sits down on his bed, bringing his knees up to his chest. “shut up.”

“mhm,” you hum. “now tell me about why you had a shit day while we eat some of your favorites, yeah?” you stick your hand into the bag and take out one of his favorite snacks, opening the bag and handing it over to him while you shift around to face him.

he thinks his heart started beating a little too fast for his liking.

STEP THREE: WHEN MINGI IS STRUGGLING TO DO SOMETHING, JUST DO IT FOR HIM WITHOUT EVEN ASKING IF HE NEEDS ASSITANCE (THIS IS TO SHOW THAT YOU NOTICE WHEN HE IS STRUGGLING)

you look between yunho and mingi. yunho’s trying so hard not to laugh, but his smile gives him away. he obviously finds mingi struggling to light the grill amusing.

“c’mon,” you slap yunho’s arm, earning a whine from him. “don’t be a bully.”

“yeah, yunho,” mingi says, looking up for a brief second to glare at him before looking back at the box of matches in his hand. “don’t be a bully.”

you gently take the box away from mingi’s hands, taking out a match and striking it against the box, a flame appearing. you grab the lighter fluid and pour some on the charcoal before chucking the match into the grill, a fire immediately coming to life.

mingi gasps and hides behind you, startled. yunho laughs at the sight. “no way you’re hiding behind yn right now,” he says, wiping tears away from his eyes. “she’s literally so short compared to you.”

“shut up, jeong yunho.” you point at him. “or else i’ll change my netflix password.”

yunho gasps. “you wouldn’t dare!”

as you and yunho quarrel, mingi sighs, hiding his face in his hands when he feels the back of his neck grow unbearably hot.

you are doing a number on him.

and he’s a little scared.

because you’re his best friend.

and he can’t believe that his best friend, of all people, would be completing his five-step-guide in making him fall for someone.

he has to talk to yunho soon about this.

STEP FOUR: WHEN MINGI IS HURT, HELP AND CODDLE HIM (THIS IS TO SHOW THAT YOU CARE A LOT ABOUT HIM)

he never got the chance to talk to yunho about this.

after your impromptu bbq day at yunho’s place, mingi ended up getting sick. he didn’t tell anyone, not wanting to bother anyone and burden them with taking care of him. so here he is, laying in his bed, shivering and clutching onto his blankets for dear life.

he hears his front door clicking open, and he groans. “go away!” he croaks, sneezing afterwards. “i have nothing to offer you, you thief!”

you laugh. “seriously? you think i’m some robber again?”

at the sound of your voice, mingi’s heart skips a beat. he clears his throat. “no… what are you doing here? i seriously need to take my spare key away from you…”

“yeah, yeah,” you say, walking into his room and raising an eyebrow when you see the state he’s in. “why didn’t you tell yunho or i about this, mings? we would’ve come running to you.”

he sneezes. “i didn’t want to annoy anyone,” he says, lowering his blankets from his face just to see you.

you click your tongue and walk to the side of the bed, pressing your hand to the back of his forehead. “don’t be silly, mingi. you know we don’t find you annoying… at least i don’t find you annoying,” you mumble, straightening your back and walking out of the room. “i’m going to make you some soup, you weakling! don’t get up!”

mingi lets out a weak laugh, sneezing afterwards. “yes, ma’am…”

“what was that?”

“yes, ma’am!” he yells, his voice cracking. mingi hears you giggle to yourself.

he huffs, pulling his blankets over his head.

when you’re done making the soup, you carry a bowl and some cough medicine into his room and find that he’s asleep. you set the bowl on his nightstand, shaking him awake as gently as possible. “mingi,” you whisper. “mingi, i have the soup. i need you to wake up so that i can feed you.”

“feed me?” he asks, whispering.

you hum, opting to card your hand through his hair that’s been growing out recently. “yeah, i need to feed you.”

“feed… feed me?” mingi screeches, abruptly sitting up. you gasp, almost falling off the bed.

clearing your throat, you reach out to grab the bowl, placing it in your lap and grabbing a spoonful, blowing on it slightly before leaning away. “here…”

mingi stares at you, wide-eyed.

you purse your lips. “mingi, i need you to eat so that you can get better.”

“right!” he says, his voice an octave higher than usual as he moves to eat the soup. when he leans back, mingi sees you smiling at him.

his stomach does some summersaults.

STEP FIVE: TAKE CARE OF MINGI (THIS SHOWS THAT HE IS VERY IMPORTANT TO YOU)

mingi puffs his cheeks out, trying not to laugh as he takes out his keys.

“yunho, i need you to carry the cake… actually, never mind, jongho can you please carry the cake?”

yunho gasps. “yn, do you not believe in me and my capabilities to carry a cake?”

“...no, i don’t.”

“what the—”

hongjoong claps once. “stop fighting!” he says. “mingi’s going to be here any minute now—”

“actually,” pipes up seonghwa. “it says that he just arrived.”

“what the fuck!” wooyoung screams. “guys, hurry the fuck up! he’s coming!”

“wooyoung… stop screaming… you’re giving us away,” yeosang says.

“yeah, what my boyfriend said.” san says.

“san, dude, how many times do i have to tell you that i am not your boyfriend.”

mingi takes in a deep breath before shoving his keys into the lock, the noise going on on the other side immediately stopping. he can hear you all shuffling around until someone whisper-shouts at jongho to go shut the door.

“what the—but i’m carrying the cake?” jongho sounds baffled.

“give me the cake and go stop mingi from coming in! yunho hasn’t finished hanging the stupid banner!” you cry out.

mingi assumes jongho’s laying his weight on top of the door because he can’t push it open.

“did you just call me stupid, yn?”

“no, but i will if you don’t hurry up!”

“guys,” hongjoong sighs, and mingi can bet that he’s rubbing his temples. “i think mingi can hear you.”

he sure can.

“okay, jongho come back!”

mingi snorts, pushing the door open and flicking the lights on. yunho’s awkwardly holding the end of a birthday banner up while the other end is taped onto the wall. hongjoong and seonghwa both sigh in unison at how badly the surprise is coming along, and wooyoung and san are trying to push each other out of the way so that one of them can stand next to yeosang, who is rolling his eyes and trying to shuffle away from the two. jongho stands to your side, the only one who is actually smiling at him—oh, he’s lying.

you’re smiling at him while holding a birthday cake.

“suprise, mings!” you say.

everyone yells happy birthday to him, and somehow he finds himself getting shoved by wooyoung towards the small table he has by the kitchen. you’re standing next to him, laughing as you put the paper party hat on his head, making sure that the thin string is secured underneath his chin before moving to get the knife.

“let mingi cut the cake!” wooyoung yells.

“he could get himself cut, and the birthday boy shouldn’t have to do it unless he wants to,” you chide, glancing up at mingi through your eyelashes. “do you want to cut it, mings?”

he swallows the lump in his throat, shaking his head afterwards. “no,” he breathes out, licking his lips. “you can do it for me, if that’s okay.”

you grin at him, carefully cutting up the cake. you place the slices on plates, making sure that the biggest slice goes to mingi.

oh no, he thinks.

you’ve officially completed his five-step-guide to his heart.

“um, yn?” mingi leans down to whisper into your ear.

you hum in response.

“can we talk for a sec?”

nodding, you let yourself get dragged by mingi into his room. after closing the door, he looks at you and you notice that his ears are very red.

“are you okay?” you ask, pointing at your ears. “your ears are red.”

mingi whines, covering his face with his hand. “can you turn around real quick?”

“okay…”

mingi peeks through his fingers, sighing in relief when your back is facing him. he clears his throat and wipes the palms of his hands on his jeans. “i, uh… would you like to go out for dinner sometime this week?”

“as a date?” you ask, fighting the urge to turn around to look at him.

in a small voice, mingi replies. “yeah… as a date.”

“i’d like that.”

#꒰💌꒱ drea's drabbles !#yuyusuyu #mingi x you #mingi x y/n #mingi x reader #song mingi x reader #song mingi x y/n #song mingi x you #mingi fluff #mingi imagines #mingi scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #mingi fanfic

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theoriginalkaminari · 4 months

Text

Attention span of a squirrel

Shoto Todoroki with an S/O who is very silly

Also seriously pls do not repost or reblog

Warnings: swearing sorta? Uh reader is GN and stuff.

Also the reason I call this 'Attention span of a squirrel' is bc squirrels have the attention span of uhhhhhh

Shoto was hanging from a rope, ankle first and upside down. The rope made him spin around the room very slowly as he felt the blood go to his head.

To make things worse, Shoto was dangling over a pit. It was foggy down there, so he wasn't able to see the bottom.

You both were chosen to go against Aizawa for this project, to see how well you did in a real villain situation.

So far?

Not so great.

Shoto was beginning to feel lightheaded, so he called out to you to try and bring your attention back to the situation.

"L/N." He calls, making you jolt out of your distracted state and back at him. "Hm?" You look up at him. "Oh yeah. Sorry, I forgot." You laugh nervously, scratching the back of your neck.

"Okay...so..." You tap your chin in thought as you stare at the rope wrapped around Shoto's ankle. "If I were me...which I am...then how would I get Shoto out of here?" You jut out your bottom lip slightly, narrowing your eyes as if it would make you think harder.

"I don't mean to rush you," Shoto begins in his usual monotone voice. "But Mr. Aizawa could be approaching." He says, spinning slowly as the rope clings to his ankle.

You don't seem to hear this, as you're staring down at the pit. "Aha! I've got the situation!" You grin confidently, stumbling slightly as you take off your right shoe. Shoto raises an eyebrow, confused to what you were doing.

Then you suddenly throw your shoe into the pit. "One..." And you begin counting. "Two...three....four.....five..." You continue. Shoto feels confused as he stares at you. What the hell were you doing?

"L/N. What are you doing?" He finally asks, eyes still trained on your every move.

After you count to ten, you beam proudly, like you made a shocking discovery. At least, you thought you did.

"Well my icy friend," You begin as you point down into the pit. "We have discovered a bottomless pi-" You were interrupted by a soft 'thud' of your shoe finally hitting the bottom of the pit.

"Oh. Nevermind. Not bottomless, just ten seconds deep."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Shoto asks, tilting his head as best he can. You just turn back and grin at him.

"Well, if I cut you down from there, at least I know how long you'll be falling for!" You beam, like you've solved all world problems.

"Okay, now hold still." You try to reach for the rope, but stumble and almost fall into the pit. "Whoa!" You yelp lightly as the dirt crumbles beneath your feet. Luckily you got out of the way in time.

"Okay! New plan." You clap your hands together. Then, to Shoto's dismay, you begin to pace around the pit. After a while, you grin. Its not an innocent grin, but a mischievous one. Almost Bakugo like.

You suddenly run backwards. Shoto sighs in disappointment, thinking you've given up on him. "How do I-" He stops himself when he looks back at you, now charging at him. "L/N! What are you-"

You grin as you jump off the ledge of the pit, jumping up to grab him. You use a pocket knife to cut the rope in the process so you both don't get stuck.

You and Shoto tumble onto the otherside, landing into a pile of eachother.

Sort of a 69 position.

Quickly, you both pull away and stand up.

Shoto feels embarrassed, looking away from you and not knowing what to say.

That is, until you clear your throat. "So...here." You hand him a small amethyst rock. Maybe you collected it a while ago, or you found it somewhere. Eitherway, you don't really remember.

Shoto tilts his head, looking at the amethyst in your palm, then back at your face. "Whats this?" He asks.

You smile softly, finding his confusion amusing. "A gift! See? Its pretty, like you." You beam. Shoto swears he sees light emitting from you as you smile at him. Shoto gives a small smile in return, and takes the amethyst. "Thank you, L/N." He says, his voice soft.

You laugh softly and place your hands on your hips. "And since I gave you a gift, we're friends now. Is that okay?" You say, even though Shoto doesn't have a choice in the matter.

Shoto puts the amethyst in his pocket. "Okay."

You grin and give him a small thumbs up. "Great! So you have to call me by my first name now, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay, Y/N."

"Atta boy!"

Shoto smiles softly. He feels a sudden feeling in his chest, snapping him out of his thoughts. He places a hand on his chest, suddenly very confused.

Did my heart skip a beat? Do I have heart problems? Perhaps I should see Recovery Girl after this.... He thought.

Eventually, the day ended, and everyone was heading to their dorm rooms to finally get some sleep.

All except Shoto. He stayed on the green couch in the lounge, staring blankly at the wall, lost in thought.

"We're friends now, so you have to call me by my first name!" Your voice rang in his head like a lullaby.

A week passed, and you and Shoto stared hanging out more. You would say things like:

"Shoto! Do you ever thinks ants get lonely?"

"Shoto! Did you know worms have an asshole?"

"Shoto! Whats your least favorite animal?"

Things that would make him smile, or things that would make him confused. Things that would make him think, or things that would make him surprised.

Every little thing you did made him have a soft and warm feeling in his chest. Shoto, completely oblivious to these feelings, decides to confront his friend, Izuku. One night, everyone is staring to head to bed, when Shoto approaches Izuku.

"Midoriya." He says, staring the conversation. "I need your help."

Izuku tilts his head, looking up at his friend. His green eyes fill with curiosity. "What is it, Todoroki? Is everything okay?" He wonders.

"I think I have heart problems." Shoto says, in earshot for Mina and Ochako to hear.

"WHAT?!" Mina gasps, suddenly very interested to Shoto's conversation with Izuku. Mina and Ochako rush over to them, their eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay, Todoroki? Should we get you to the hospital?" Midoriya asks, standing up as his expression turns to one of concern.

Shoto thinks for a moment, before speaking again. "No. I just feel a warm feeling in my chest, and sometimes my heart skips a beat. Sometimes my face gets hot, even though I try and cool myself down with my left side."

Mina and Ochako's eyes widen. The two beam, leaning ever so closely to Shoto. "Do you feel this way around a certain someone?" Mina says, her voice giddy and excited.

Shoto nods. "Yes, it happens around L/- I mean, Y/N."

Mina and Ochako squeal, while Izuku sighs in relief, glad his friend isn't suffering from any heart failure.

"What? What is it?" Shoto looks at them all, very confused. Did he really have heart problems...?

"Its love!" Mina grabs Ochako's hands, the two of them bouncing around in circles.

"Love..?" Shoto tilts his head. "Yes, Y/N is my friend. I care for them deeply." He nods, confused to why Mina and Ochako were makeing a big deal about this fact.

"No, Todoroki!" Mina looks at him in the eyes as she stops bouncing. "Romantic love." She corrects.

Something in Shoto's brain clicks. "Oh." He says quietly, a soft dusty pink tainting his cheeks.

Shoto began to hang out with you more, staying by your side as you ramble about silly things, or smiling as you show him silly things.

Until one day, Izuku encouraged him to confess.

Shoto asked you to meet him at the courtyard after school, and you did. Shoto took a deep breath, trying to gather his nerves before he spoke to you.

"Y/N." He says softly as he looks into your eyes.

Your beautiful eyes...the ones he could get lost in for hours. The ones he loved staring into.

"I have feelings for you. Romantic ones." He finally says after a moment of silence.

You, being the person you were, holds up a hand for him to high-five. "Dude, no way, that is awesome sauce!" You say.

Shoto looks at you in confusion and disbelief. You suddenly cover your mouth in embarrassment, muttering quiet apologizes.

"Oh god, I'm really sorry, Shoto! It just popped into my head and then my mouth talked and then it all fell apart but what I ment to say was..." You take a deep breath, and look at him in the eyes.

"I love you. Like a lot." You hold out your arms as far as they could go. "If I was able to, I would stretch my arms pur way further but this is as far as they can go. But I really do love you!" You beam.

Shoto chuckles softly at your antics. He suddenly feels...complete.

You smile as well, and lower your hands. Then, you slowly extend your hand out to him to take. Shoto's eyes light up slightly. He slowly take your hand, and you intertwine your fingers with his.

"Now I get to tell people I have my own furnace AND my own cooler!" You grin brightly, making Shoto chuckle again.

He kisses your cheek gently. "Your pretty." He whispers.

And so doofus and doofus 2.0 relationship begins.

#shoto todoroki x male reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #Mha #Shoto Todoroki x female reader #bnha x reader #Bnha #todoroki shoto x reader

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saerins · 1 year

Text

─── 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

+ nagi seishiro x f!reader | wc 3.2k | content: fluff, ngl i was too lazy to proof this, childhood friends to lovers, canon-compliant (i tried), yn’s parents are just bad

notes: me ?? writing someone other than sae ?? wild . but it’s my first try at nagi so pls have mercy :’) feedbacks/reblogs appreciated !! <3

summary: it’s a little more difficult for nagi to realise his feelings compared to the average man.

i. fleeting moment

nagi seishiro was your first kiss, age ten on the swings of your backyard.

you’re only friends by chance. he was a loner on the swings in the public playground and you have a habit of picking up strays. (but until then, it had been limited to animals and not humans.)

yeah, yeah, maybe having a first kiss at the young age of ten is a little alarming, but it’s not like nagi is a bad person. if anything, he was just trying to shut you up. probably, maybe. (and it wasn’t with tongue, if anyone needs the specifics.)

“if you keep crying that loudly i won’t be able to hear my game,” nagi grumbled, eyes glued to his screen. apparently he was playing some pseudo horror game where four fighters run from a single hunter and apparently he needed to listen to the sounds to know when to run.

but really, you were ten and crying because some other boy bullied you in the playground, saying how you were so ugly and that no boy would ever wanna kiss you. given all of that, why would you even care about nagi’s stupid game?

if he didn’t want to be bothered, he shouldn’t have chased you all the way back home.

“but seishiro, am i really ugly?” you were ten and in need of immediate validation while nagi was in need of your immediate silence.

he didn’t even look up. “that’s subjective.”

even when he was young he had a smart mouth that would be able to break you.

“well then what do you think?” because honestly, even at that point, you thought nagi seishiro was handsome; he was the face claim you used to imagine all your scenarios at night before you went to sleep.

he was your knight in shining armor, coming to break you free from the cage which was your life and obligations. he was your prince charming who’d rescue you above all else. heck, sometimes he was mario and you were princess peach.

seishiro groaned when the screen shows game over and honestly, he really did think it was all your fault because he couldn’t hear anything over your incessant wailing. but then he looked at you for the first time after you cried and had the recurring thought that he didn’t want to be the reason for you to keep on crying.

“yeah, you’re pretty.”

and he puts his lips on yours like it’s no big deal.

ii. unreciprocated

fifteen is when you’re most rebellious. it’s a sickness you get from none other than mikage reo.

your family and the mikages go way back. they’d been family friends for such a long time. a part of you feels it’s not genuine, blinded by the fact that they’re always business partners and everything else stemmed from that one simple fact.

you started to play hooky from business dinners, started to say fuck off to rude old geasers who truly didn’t deserve a single dime they got.

all you ever got in return was your father’s temper and your mother’s cowardice and reo’s praises. most of all you at least had nagi’s shoulder to cry on. (he’s learned to bring along his earpiece just in case he had to meet you or accidentally bumped into you.)

“they all sicken me,” was what reo told you when you asked about his family in relation to their business. you could sympathise. sometimes all you could feel from your parents were that they treated you as a next-in-line rather than just daughter. and almost everyone around you made you feel like you were just a moneybag.

what reo felt shouldn’t have been too far off. except you thought he had it better; at least all his parents did was try to spoil him while not-so-subtly training him up to be the next ceo. he at least didn’t suffer at the hands of foul tempers and verbal abuse.

no one should have to.

“oh shit! i gotta go soon,” you realised, noticing that it was almost six and you’d made plans with nagi.

reo cocked a brow, “y/n l/n, you have other friends?”

you knew he was joking, but that didn’t stop you from landing the hardest punch you could on his arms. “hey, i’m not that inept at socialising okay?”

sure, you’d started taking caution with making friends because most of them were just after one thing: money. even at this age. which is crazy to you, at least, but you felt you had no right to think that. not when all the money you wanted was still at your disposal.

but you weren’t actually bad at making friends. it was just that maybe most people weren’t even worth the effort.

“they’re good to you, right?”

you took a moment to decide before you eventually nodded. “yeah, for sure.”

nagi was… weird, for you. but in the good sense. yeah, he’d open his mouth and ask you for money which at least told you he was honest. even if you rejected him, though, he was still beside you.

“man, what a hassle,” he grumbled when you wouldn’t buy any more food. he was broke, which meant he couldn’t eat anymore too if you didn’t buy some.

the two of you still never talked about that kiss. it never happened again, to your dismay.

you were a teen, and screw stupid teen hormones for driving you to ask him.

“hey sei, we’re good friends, right?”

“huh?” nagi was already fixated on his phone. probably some new game you didn’t know about. his earpieces were ready, around his neck. “uh, i guess?”

but that was not good enough for your feisty fifteen-year-old self.

“sei, i’m serious! would you be sad if one day we weren’t friends anymore?”

back then you didn’t know what you were doing. back then you didn’t think to yourself what it was, really, that you were trying to get out of him. maybe it was validation, and maybe it was just boredom.

you really just wanted to know nagi cared.

all he did was shrug, brows furrowed in annoyance. “that’s life, isn’t it? sometimes friends drift and sometimes they don’t.”

throwing wisdom around as if that was what you needed. and it was unfair to expect anything out of nagi as it was, but that didn’t stop you from throwing a tantrum and storming off.

(he watched you as you left, and there was something unsettling about the sight of your back moving so far away.)

iii. turning point

the world is small.

when you were sixteen you realised that the so called treasure reo told you he found was a human, who so happened to be your friend—nagi seishiro.

teeny tiny.

they also both happened to be picked by the JFU to go to blue lock. which you only found out after they’d both been gone for a week.

it didn’t surprise you though—they were both talented. it was only right they got picked. though, they also happened to be the only two people you would hang out with, so by default you felt lonely.

but at sixteen you’d learned to suck it up, hide your feelings. everything was okay—as long as you deceived yourself so. your parents were the same; overbearing and breathing down your neck and now that reo was not around for you and nagi couldn’t be your confidant, it felt much worse than usual.

everything was a transaction and you felt suffocated. it made you appreciate nagi’s unfiltered honesty and reo’s unwavering loyalty to whatever you dedicated yourself to.

“at least that reo boy has some other talents like that foolish soccer he plays,” your father berated over dinner. “and here my daughter is, good for nothing yet expects us to believe her when she says she can make a living outside of our company.”

and if you’d had other close friends, they would’ve told you that sixteen was too young to be sure what you wanted to do for the rest of your life. they’d have said your parents were unreasonable and that they were the fools.

but you didn’t. and the only friends you had weren’t around. so you ate it up. you clenched your fists where your parents couldn’t see and let them run their mouth. or, in your mother’s case, stay silent while your father made unreasonable arguments.

“and that nagi boy you hang out with,” your father turned his focus to him, “all he reeks of is laziness. i don’t get why you have to hang out with him all the time. inviting that oaf into our house like he’s welcome.”

that time your fists hit the table and you didn’t even expect it. it hurt because of how hard you hit but nothing could beat the hurt your father inflicted on your heart.

you found you couldn’t say anything, only because your father’s eyes were wide with rage at your outburst and you were still the same scared girl inside at age four when he first raised his voice at you.

“i-i’m sorry,” you choked out, which was pathetic but you didn’t want to end up murdered in your own house.

your father scoffed. “get your stupid head out of your ass or you’re cut off.”

the only time you could do that was when nagi and reo finally got their first break out of blue lock. you occupied their time for the most of it, listened to them going on and on about the matches that went on inside. though reo seemed a little mad at nagi, a little awkward around him, for some reason you weren’t privy to.

“i’m gonna head home first,” and reo was gone with the wave of a hand, something about having to settle something at home—probably nothing good.

maybe it was the lovestruck idiot in you talking, but you’d made peace with the fact that maybe you had a small crush on nagi seishiro, judging by how you acted around him. maybe it was that idiot that made you want to spend all of his free time together.

“guess i’ll see you tomorrow too?” sue you, you were just trying to shoot your shot.

nagi put his phone in his pocket, for once, and you were struggling to remain standing as he held eye contact with you, calm gray eyes the bane of your existence. “mmm can’t, gotta meet isagi and the rest.”

isagi, a name you’d just learned earlier—apparently nagi thought he was strong and chose his team. maybe that was why reo was mad.

“oh, okay then.” you’d ask for the next day, but you didn’t want to get rejected twice. besides, nagi would probably just prefer playing games and resting at home. you were just friends, after all.

“was thinking we could get dinner though,” nagi told you, hands in his pockets as the both of you walked down the street.

that was the first time he ever extended an effort, you remember. and suddenly life wasn’t that bad anymore.

it was also the first time nagi asked you to feed him, not because he was playing some game but on purpose.

and you didn’t know how it turned out that way, but he ended up taking up all of your time. it was the only reason you had the ability to fill him in on your family, and he actually listened. and, like reo, he said “fuck them.”

maybe that was the point you realised maybe he did care.

but for a girl at seventeen just concerned with romance and happiness, it was paradise—until of course he went back to blue lock, taking your heart with him.

(what you both failed to realise was that he left his with you.)

iv. slow realisation

in the bleachers of his first match out of blue lock, nagi seishiro spots you easily in the front row—wearing his jersey and number, when did you buy that?

doesn’t change the fact that nagi likes seeing it on you. he’s not familiar with the feeling, but it’s equivalent to saying you like him the most, which feels great if he’s honest to himself.

what he doesn’t like is the guy next to you. sharp jawline and spiky hair wearing a business suit and his raven eyes are always peeking at you out of the corner. does he like you?

but the whistle blows and nagi forgets about you for a little over ninety minutes. he’s going to show you he can win this, with you watching from the front row, and he’ll show you why he’s the best and that other guys in business suits don’t matter.

after the game reo makes a big deal out of the fact you’re wearing nagi’s jersey and not his, and nagi finds out the guy with you was someone your dad wanted to hook you up with.

twisted business marriages.

“i’m just going out with him to shut my father up,” you admit to nagi when you’re both finally alone. (aka, after you’ve convinced reo to pry him away and leave you two alone.)

nagi’s not used to this. what’s this relief he feels? “oh, good to know,” is all he says because he doesn’t even understand himself.

he isn’t even sure why he’s here in the first place, walking you home. he’s not sure why reo left when he could’ve driven all of you home instead of just mr business-suit-guy.

“how’s it feel now, to be mr popular?” you’re not even sure why you’re asking. maybe because you feel like the gap between you and nagi grew so wide in such a short period of time and you’d do anything to hear him say that he’s still the same seishiro you knew.

your seishiro.

nagi only shrugs, “dunno. don’t really feel the difference.”

because really, apart from the fact that he’s much more busy, he’s still him—playing games when he’s free, texting you because that happens to fall in the list of things he likes to do now, and well, the only difference he feels is—he takes a peek to his side—you, somehow.

not because of anything you do in particular, but he feels different somehow. and he can’t make sense of it. he never can. how’s he supposed to? no one ever warned him about shit like this.

“uh, nagi? have you ever thought that maybe you like her?” reo tells him over the phone later that night, a little baffled by the things his usually detached friend just told him.

“you like her too though,” nagi retorts.

reo sighs, wondering how nagi ever made it to where he is. “not in the same way.”

“what do you mean?”

“figure it out yourself.”

nagi hangs up, thinking he already has it figured out. he also thinks reo will keep his mouth shut.

he doesn’t.

v. requited

it’s funny how reo rushed to call you that night, right after nagi basically told him (without saying it explicitly) that he has a crush on you.

but it’s also funny how it’s been three months since then and nagi still hasn’t said anything about it. you play ignorant around him, waiting and waiting for him to admit it himself.

evidently it’s not working.

tonight you’re just watching him on the screen, cheering him on from the other side of the world because despite being from a rich family you can’t just up and leave to another country as and when you feel like it.

besides, you’ve made peace with your parents; you’d learn about the family business willingly as long as they stopped interfering with your personal life. they surprisingly agreed.

nagi and reo win, as you expected, and as usual, the cameras trail their team as they celebrate on the field, their captain having tore his shirt off to celebrate that they’d won the tournament. it’s not long before the camera pans back to nagi, a few reporters already surrounding him.

“so nagi, how do you feel right now?”

“great,” he answers, with a sexy amount of enthusiasm. he’s rarely ever enthused, but you find it so much more attractive when he is.

nagi has his phone in his hand, you notice, and you immediately fish for yours. he’d texted you right before they started hounding him.

are you watching?

you smile as you type back.

no. congrats on becoming champions! 🫶🏼

“nagi nagi, who would you like to dedicate this win to?” the reporters are all clambering to get a chance to question him.

“oh i don’t know,” nagi says, and you catch him looking at your message before looking back at the camera. “i guess i’ll dedicate this one to this girl i like.”

you nearly spit out your drink.

“wait, does this mean you’re involved with someone? tell us, who is it!”

all the reporters get excited, and understandably, since nagi’s probably just about given them the biggest scoop for the month. they’re all looking at him, money signs in their eyes, while your jaw drops open as he overshares with the entire world.

“oh, y/n l/n, she’s been my friend since forever and i don’t know… i kinda like her a lot,” he’s saying all this earnestly, a hand scratching his neck and a blush creeping on his face, though he doesn’t look the least bit fazed.

you rush to find his chat thread.

nagi, what the fuck!!!

you did NOT just say my name on live tv!!!

on the screen, he openly looks at your messages before typing a reply as the reporters hound him for more details.

oh shit, m i not supposed to?

“nagi, is she the one texting you right now?”

and like the honest guy he is, he nods. “oh yeah, think she’s mad at me right now.”

you curl up under your blanket, flustered because nagi is way too open and way too precious.

“would you like to say anything here to her now?”

nagi looks off camera and hums in contemplation before finally deciding on a response.

“hey y/n, tomorrow i’m gonna make you mine okay? so just wait for me.”

reo finally drags him away and towards the rest of his team and his interview ends there. you switch the television off, half mortified and half flattered. your phone blows up with most of your contacts gushing over what nagi said.

leave it up to nagi seishiro to have feelings for you, not realise it until years later, not tell you in the whole three months before this and yet announces it and your full name to the entire world on live television.

in spite of how flabbergasted you are, there’s a warm sensation blooming underneath your chest, a comfort that you’ve always been looking for finally fulfilled. there’s a certain endearment in the way nagi realises and professes his feelings.

you pull up his messages again.

you better keep your word, sei.

it doesn’t take him long to respond.

don’t worry, i’ll make you mine.

#bllk x reader #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #blue lock x reader #nagi x you #nagi x y/n #nagi fluff #bllk fluff #nagi imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock fluff #nagi seishiro fluff #bllk nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x you #nagi seishiro x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

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mggsv · 10 months

Text

BOYS LOCKER ROOM !✭

f!reader x gojo satoru (18+) | not proof read | reblog pls <3

summary : You hated the boys locker room for many reasons..like how Satoru didn’t have much room when he fucked you in there, or time for that matter..

warnings : Shower sex, girl in the guys locker room, public sex, quickie, talks of getting reader pregnant, Gojo has a pregnancy kink idc, breeding kink, asshole tease, whiney gojo is a my fav gojo

“Satoru! the game starts in thirty minutes..what are you doing man?”

“Be out in a sec! Gotta be clean before I get dirty out there~!”

As Gojo would say, you could never be too clean. He glances towards the door before he heard it close, his teammate leaving him be in the shower. Satoru took a deep breath, the steam flooding his thoughts for a second.

“Hurry..up.” you whine. He glances down at you, you skin glistening in the warm water, Satoru’s cock buried deep in your cunt, his thumb teasing the ring of your asshole. You held onto a rail, back arched to give his better access. There wasn’t much space to work with after all. “Oh what’s wrong captain? Oh shit, you’re supposed to be out cheering…” He lets out a halfhearted laugh, pulling out until the tip popped out of your gaping hole. His cum seeped from your folds almost instantly. You shudder from the lost, despite the warm water hitting your back. “Fuck..put it back in Toru.”

“Yeah..? You want it back in princess?” his cock slaps against your sensitive pussy. His lips part at the sight of your holes squeezing around nothing. “yes. yes- god fuck.” Your whines turn into needy cries, his thick head teasing your swollen clit. His cum beginning to smear over your slick walls. “Fuck I need to get you pregnant..” he moans. Satoru’s thumb circles back at your hole, pre stretched by him of course. Freaky fuck. You press your ass back on him. He didn’t miss the jiggle, slapping it softly.

“Gonna cheer for me captain? Huh baby?” He’s pushing his cock back into your workout warning. You felt your eyes water at just how good it felt. Fuck you didn’t want to go out there. “Want you riding my cock princess.” He groans, fucking into you as if you didn’t have to go out there and do everything perfectly.. “want you fucking yourself pregnant..want to see your stomach full of my seed- shit!” Satoru watches you gush over his cock and the shower floor. Your arms trembling from holding yourself up. “mm….a-ah Toru..T-Toru..” You whimper out a warning, your pussy squeezing around his cock. You hate that he couldn’t fuck you the way he wanted. You wanted his hands around your neck, commanding that you take every drop of his seed. “w-wanna see that pretty tummy swollen..” Gojo whines, head tipping back, the water running down his neck.

“That’s it.. cheer for me captain.” He was pretty sure the sound of your bodies colliding was louder than the shower running but he didn’t care. He finally had you, who was to stop him? The game..the game he had to play in less than 30 minutes. He sped up, reaching down to touch that pretty clit of yours. Your body jerks- you come with a small scream of his name, legs shaking from the stimulation. “i-i…oh fuck too much- too much T…oru.” Your eyes sting with tears, body spasming.

“Oi! Satoru, coach says he’ll give you hell if you take another ten minutes!” Satoru’s head tipped back resting on the tiled wall while his cum coated yours, shooting deep into your womb. You mewl at the feeling. Ignoring the comment from his teammate who had opened the door once more. Satoru’s eyes peeled open, glancing forwards the fogged frame. “Coming..” he calls out, smirk on his lips.

“He also said to tell Y/N her coach is looking for her, said don’t let it happen a fourth time or he’s snitching.”

Another reason you hated the boys locker room, everyone was aware of what Satoru did when he showered last..fucking you. You’re his pregame workout after all.

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ohcaptains · 2 years

Text

as long as it takes.

pairing. abby anderson x female! reader

synopsis. Abby’s generous with her love. She gives, and seldom takes. It’s why she takes her time with you. Why she slowly works you over, dragging you to your eventual release as if she has all the time in the world. Though this time, it’s taking far too long.

an. based off of this request. pls like, reblog and comment. i appreciate it endlessly<3

warnings. 18+. minors dni with this fic & my blog. abby manhandles you (hand on jaw -- not choking), references to anxiety and stress, crying, assplay?...assplay (blink and you’ll miss it) fingering...squirting...

You’re all too aware of the clock on Abby’s bedside table.

The ticking fuels your anxiety, and you glare at the bright red numbers, seeing that it’s been about half an hour. Abby usually got you there in just under ten.

Her record was three. Two and a half, if you minus the time it took to get your pants off.

Fuck. Okay. Ignore the clock. Just focus on Abby.

You huff, turning away from the box and sliding your palm into Abby’s loose mousy blonde hair. She hums, tightening her grip on your spread thighs.

The echo of the sound makes your belly flutter, and your breathing hitches when she swirls her tongue around your clit again, hitting the edge of the nerve.

Okay, yeah, this is good. Abby is good. Good doesn’t even cover it. She’d had a lot of practice – had you strewn out on her bed like this too many times to count.

She flattens her tongue and swipes it through your folds, broad and unafraid, and the spit from her mouth dribbles down your thighs, pooling onto the sheets.

It was slow and sloppy yet tinged with a desperate edge – just how you liked it. So why was it taking so long? The pleasure is there, but it’s distant, hidden behind the swirl of thoughts that are blocking you from reaching your high.

Abby hasn’t complained once.

Realistically, you know she wouldn’t. Or if she did, it would be in jest, but all you can think about is that maybe Abby wants to stop. Maybe, Abby wants to just get this over with. But she wouldn’t be going this slow if she wanted to…what if she’s just tired? Guilt washes over you, thick and unwavering. You frown at her ceiling, whimpering in frustration more than desire.

Snap out of it, you tell yourself, breathing deeply and closing your eyes.

You try and block out everything but Abby – focus on the sensation of her nose pushing into your clit, her tongue darting over your puffy hole. She circles her tongue around your clit again, stroking long and slow, and you stutter her name, hips bucking up an inch.

Your thighs push at her hands, desperate to clench around her head, but she tenses her muscular arms, keeping your legs spread open. You whimper, trying to fidget, and Abby hums a laugh at you.

“That’s it, baby,” she mumbles, her voice deep and coated in desire, “take it.”

Your fingers tighten in her hair, your body going taut as Abby sucks at your clit, and the familiar wave of pleasure finds you. “Please – fuck,” you moan, tone high pitch and desperate. You turn your head to the side, back arching, trying to grind against her mouth.

“Just – “you choke, clenching tight, “Rightthererightthererightthere,” you whisper all at once, the rush threatening to spill, and you briefly think, finally.

Fucking finally.

It’s been about 45 minutes now, nearly took an hour. There’s a part of you that feels bad. A part of you that wants to shy away and apologise because It’s obscene. It’s embarrassing, really, it’s never happened before, and it’s – it’s gone. It’s gone.

“No,” you whisper. “Fuck,” you curse, shaking your head, trying to get it back. Trying to focus, but your brain has sabotaged your body once again, your high fluttering away from you.

“Shit,” you huff, loosening your fingers in your girlfriend’s hair.

Abby looks up in understanding. She places a kiss on the inside of your thigh. Her comforting voice finds you. “Just gimmie a minute, and I’ll try again.”

She sits back, and the warm light of her bedroom illuminates the slick that’s coating her chin and cheeks. She wipes it away with the back of her hand and rolls her neck and jaw. The ache between your thighs slowly begins to fade, even as you take in her disheveled state.

Her hair hangs loose around her shoulders, kinky from her signature braid and a little frizzy from your wandering fingers. There’s a pink flush to her freckled cheeks, and her lips are swollen and wet. She licks them. At some point in the last 45 minutes, she’d taken her shirt off, and is now topless. She mindlessly rubs her chest, smoothing her fingers over the top of her breasts.

You lazily look up at her, naked from the waist down. The top half is covered with Abby’s loose-fitting tank, and the wide arm holes don’t leave much to the imagination.

“’ ’m sorry, Abs,” you sigh, “It’s not happening.”

But your girlfriend ignores you, too busy reaching her arms up and stretching her thick muscles out. She drops her arms and holds onto the dips of her neck, rolling her head around. The position lets you see the wide bulge of her muscles, covered in freckles and a light sheen of sweat.

“It takes as long as it takes,” she says nonchalantly. The bed dips as she drops between your legs again, “just gimmie another minute, and I’ll get us there.”

She goes to shove her arms under your thighs again, but you cringe away from her, shaking your head.

“It’s been ages already. I’m just…in my head.” She laughs, “Well get out of it.”

She’s joking, but it makes a lump form in your throat.

You look down at her, your pretty, desperate girlfriend, so eager to make you come that she’s willing to spend nearly hours trying to get you there. You try and swallow the lump down, but it won’t budge, and you let out a shaky breath, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill.

Abby hears the change in your breathing and looks up.

“Babe?” “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you splutter, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I’m being silly.” “Oh, sweetheart.”

She says the endearment so softly, that all of your bottled-up feelings come rushing back at once, and you hiccup a sob. You reach up and cover your face with your hands, tears spilling down your cheeks freely.

You’ve been so stressed recently, anxious about a month-long upcoming supply run that you’d helped plan. Abby was leading the charge. Everyone was putting so much trust in you, and it was incredibly overwhelming. No wonder your brain was pulling you every which way.

“Ugh,” you groan, shaking your head. “I don’t wanna cry, I’m just –” you sniffle, and Abby tugs your hands away, holding them in her large palms. Her inner brows are slanted, concern marring her features.

“It’s okay,” Abby tries to soothe, knowing the source of your stress. Usually, her words would bring you comfort. But this time, there’s too much to soothe. “It’s not,” you sob, and Abby sighs. “I know, but stressing about it isn’t going to help.”

Annoyance floods through you, “I know that!” you huff.

The force of your near shout echoes throughout the room, and Abby flinches, jaw tensing.

Your eyes go wide at her sudden clip demeanour. “’ ’m sorry,” you quickly whisper, lip wobbling. Another tear slides down your cheek, and you furiously wipe it away, “’ ’m sorry,” you say again, voice breaking. Abby’s features slowly soften as you apologise for the third time, “’ ’m sorry for being loud, m’ just frustrated.”

“I know,” she coos. The corners of her lips lower. “I know baby, come here.” She tugs your hands forward, pulling them around her neck, and you reach into her, cuddling into her large frame as she twists, laying back on your shared bed. Her wide hands come up under your shirt, rubbing your back, coaxing you to relax your entire weight into her. You nuzzle the side of her head.

“’ ’m sorry,” you sniff, and she kisses the side of your head. “I’m trying really hard to concentrate and it just…slips away from me.” “These things happen, baby,” she whispers, “We Just gotta stop the distractions.”

Abby continues rubbing your back.

Her wide palm drags up the expanse of your back, calloused fingers from years of training rough, but soothing. Her loose hair smells of her vanilla shampoo still, with a hint of smoke and rainwater from being caught out in the woods when it poured earlier.

Her hand continues its languid rhythm, and you nuzzle deeper into her neck, sighing in contentment.

You feel yourself slowly drifting off, losing all sense of reality, until you blearily come to as her hand trails lower, fingertips smoothing over your ass. You don’t think much of it, until she takes a handful and tugs, hitching your crotch up, grinding it against her sweatpants.

“Abby,” you whisper, sound muffled by her neck.

She hums in response, massaging your ass in her wide palm. It’s sort of comforting, but you sense she’s not doing it in that regard, especially as she grips tight, revealing your damp folds to the cool air. You whisper her name again, and she smirks when she hears your sharp inhale.

Abby continues playing with you.

Not really touching but touching all the same. At some point, your fingers move, and you flatten your hand on her chest, just below her shoulder. “Abs,” you voice. She pushes her mouth against the side of your head, “mm?” she sounds. “’ s’not gonna work,” you whisper, already doubting yourself.

Abby tuts, “Not if you keep on thinking like that,” she taps your thigh, “leg up.”

With a huff, you go to move, but Abby gets impatient and tugs it up anyway, pressing your knee into the mattress by her waist. The position leaves you exposed, and anyone walking in right now would see Abby Anderson’s hand trailing over your ass, fingers dangerously close to your damp folds.

She slides the width of her heavy hand between your cheeks, the ball of her palm pushing there, and you jolt, sighing into her neck.

Abby’s fingers move further, pressing against your pussy, and your slick makes her fingers slip, forcing them between your damp folds. Your nerves short circuit. Heat floods between your thighs once again, and you stutter, “F-Fuck, Abby.”

“Mm,” she hums again, cradling your shoulders with her spare arm.

She takes your hair, speaking against the side of your head. The words are muffled, but you make out, still so wet, baby, as she drags her long fingers through your used pussy, fingers sliding over your swollen hole.

You mewl into her neck, clawing at her shoulder.

She doesn’t ask how you want it.

In fact, she’s so lazy with it, so lethargic and slow, that it’s as if it’s not happening at all.

There’s no real big scene, and no real direction to her movement, either.

She just plays with you, sliding her thick fingers through your folds, back and forth, the ball of her palm dragging over your asshole, and fuck, it’s so openly dirty that you have to hide.

Have to push your face into her neck and moan, trying to conceal how good it feels. Abby doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t tease you like she usually does.

At some point, she stuffs her thick fingers against your clit and drags, and you gasp her name, grinding back into her hand. It swells beneath her fingers, but she doesn’t pay it that much attention. It’s as if she’d touched it by accident, didn’t really mean to, because she moves away, instead choosing to push her cupped fingers against your entrance – not inside, just across – and you feel your slick coat her, feel it spread over abs.

You go quiet. No noise, just the stutter of your breath against her neck.

Again, Abby doesn’t say anything. No teasing. No, like that? No, ask nicely and I’ll fuck you with them.

The frustration is still there, but it’s directed at her.

Pressure builds behind your clit, and you want more. Want it quicker than this, so you push back. Try and match her rhythm by rolling your hips. If you catch her fingers at just the right angle, she’ll push against your clit, you’re sure of it.

You imagine yourself spread open on top of her, grinding your cunt back into her hand, the ball of her palm pressing between your ass cheeks, and you’re embarrassed again.

This time, at how much you want it.

Wanna come, wanna come, you whisper into her neck, rolling your hips up. Your clit drags against her abs, and you clutch her shoulder. “Wanna come, please,” you whine pathetically, pussy clenching around nothing.

She’s got you whining and begging, and she’s said fuck all.

Abby’s managed to subdue you, with her quiet, yet commanding aura. She’s got you laying on her, not griping you all that tightly -- you could move if you wanted to, and yet, it’s as if you can’t.

She’s letting you use her.

Her fingers accidentally hit your clit again and your eyes roll back, mouth opening, and you moan into her neck, grinding faster, pussy dragging against the thick of her fingers, moving, fingers scratching into her shoulders, and you’re whimpering her name, a constant drabble, Abby, Abby, Abby, you go, and you’ve soaked her chest, so wet that you’re slipping over her fingers, rutting, drooling her name, saying, please, please please fuck fuck fuck – it’s there, and --

She senses you slip. Senses you lose it, the whimpers suddenly annoyed and irritated. Abby slides a hand under your chin, and knocks it up, clasping her fingers over your cheeks. She makes you face her, forehead pressing against yours, blue eyes wide and intense.

“Come back to me,” she orders.

Her voice catches your attention, loud and commanding in the silent room.

You clutch her broad shoulders, there, you’re there, until your belly bottoms out, and you’re pouting. “Abby,” you sigh, frustrated, eyes closing, and she shakes her head, “No, don’t look away.”

She’s close enough that your noses touch.

“Look at me,” she commands, and you do. How could you not? A warm, comforting rush consumes you. Abby’s everywhere. She’s there. Right there. Eyes bore a hole into your soul as she whispers, “Keep your eyes on me.”

And you keep your eyes on her as she pushes two fingers inside of you, stuffing you, and you hear how wet you are. You gasp at the sudden pressure. The angle gives her easy access to the spongy part inside of you that makes you go docile. She curls her fingers and presses against it. Your eyes roll back, pussy squelching around her thick fingers.

“’ m’ my god, Abby,” you moan, suddenly drunk on her. The clutch she’s got on your chin loosens a little, but she still keeps your forehead pressed against her, fingers pressed tight in your cunt. “That feels so fucking good,” you sob, clenching down. The pressure pushes up at the back of your clit, too. You hold the hand she’s got on your jaw, swallowing, and trying to settle your quickened breathing. Abby bumps your nose with hers.

“Look at me, baby.”

She whispers it, voice strained. Blearily, you blink down at her. Her blue eyes look fucked out – alive.

“No one here but me. No thoughts but me, okay?” she asks, but it’s not a question. She does ask one, though, cocks her head to the side, teasing glimmer in her eyes as she whispers, “What’s my name?”

Her fingers slide out of your pussy, then plunge back inside. You moan, slick pouring over her digits. Abby tightens her grip on your chin, “name.” “Ab-Abby.”

She smiles, proud of you. “’ s’right baby, you keep thinking that.” She drags her mouth to your forehead, kissing quickly, before pressing a messy, wet one to your lips, mumbling, “Keep thinking about me,” then she drags her fingers out of your cunt again, pushing them in and up as she mutters, “Keep thinking about me while I do my fucking job.”

Her words make you sob.

Nearly say thank you, then you can’t say anything at all, as she fucks her fingers into you. You grind your clit into her abs, delirious from the pleasure. The tension coils again – was never far away -- swirling in your belly and pooling in your lower back.

Abby doesn’t let you run from it. Doesn’t let you drift. Her hand continues to be locked around your jaw, and the pressure is constant, reassuring, keeping you tethered to her.

She speeds up, and you chase her fingers, letting out a drawn-out moan. The ball of her palm presses into your ass again, and you clench tight, losing composure.

“Fuck,” you sob, eyes rolling back. Your nails drag over her shoulders, and you let out a pitiful sob as you whimper, “’ 'm gonna come Abs,”

As if on cue, she drops your chin, and lets you press your face into her neck.

She drags the free hand between your bodies, stuffing her hand against your clit while the other fucks up into you. The sudden pressure there makes you see stars, and you choke out her name as your body moves, grinding your clit into her hand.

Your legs are shaking, your heart thumping against your chest, and your orgasm is so close, that suddenly, you’re frightened it’ll slip away again.

“Abby— “you sob again, her name a shaky cry into her neck. You clutch the side of her throat, grinding into her hand. “Please,” you gasp, “please it’s so close, please.”

“Shh,” she whispers into the shell of your ear. “Take it like a good girl.”

All at once, it hits you, blindsides you – grabs and pulls you under.

You go tight. Body locks up -- clenches tight around Abby’s fingers, and she lets out a depraved moan of her own, coaxing you through it.

That’s my girl, that’s my pretty girl, she whispers, tone strained and taut. Her words knock you over the edge, and you sob her name, pussy convulsing, gushing over her hand.

“’m’mygod my god, Abby, so good – so fuckin,” you whimper, riding out your orgasm against her chest and hand.

Your pussy soaks her, wet enough that you hear her fucking her fingers up and out, walls fluttering around her thick fingers as she drags your orgasm out of you. Your legs shake, fingers clench tight around her shoulders as it goes and goes and goes, nerves shot, and you yelp as the sensitivity suddenly hits.

You shove a hand between you to grab Abby’s wrist, trembling, and Abby stops, wet fingers lax in your grip.

The room fills with your laboured breathing. Abby’s chest pushes in and out, the adrenaline leaking from her body as you breathe deep into her neck. Your heart begins to slow, the ache between your thighs slowly dispelling, and it’s then that you whisper, “fucking finally,” into her neck.

Abby laughs. You pull back to see her smiling face, and she’s flushed red, sweat beading over her hairline. “You – “she starts, breathless. She leans back into the pillows, rubbing her forehead. “that was really fucking hot.”

You beam from it, sitting up straighter. Lazily, you glance between the pair of you, and her abs are slick from you, the crotch on her sweatpants damp, too.

“You see how easy that was?” she jokes, grabbing your attention. She wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand, sniffing. “You gotta clean me up, baby,” she sighs, rolling her neck, “I can’t move my arms.”

ao3. more abby. ko-fi.

#Abby Anderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x female reader smut #abby anderson imagine #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson tlou #smut #abby anderson x f!reader

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mariaace · 5 months

Note

Can you write dating headcanons for Fyodor,pls?🥺🥺😗😗

A/n:No, I can't./j lmao girl i love you, but those are soo many reqs anyways here you go<3

Warnings:uhm none? Genre:fluff Type: headcanons

Anime:bsd Pairing:Fyodor

So, let's start with this Russian man

Dating him feels very classy. Like in a way of speaking to you and in general, affection and all of the things that there are in a relationship

Most likely acts at least a little bit more open when he is only with you. BUT in order for that to happen he has to really trust you, even though only to start dating him would take a loooot time

Love language? Meh probably words of information or act of service

Speaking of act of service, he will give you whatever you want and ask him him for. Doesn't matter what it is. You name it? It's yours, he doesn't care if he has to kill for it

Now complimenting you is part of his routine, because you are just so perfect, how can he not compliment you?? Like what is he gonna do then??

Just sitting with him in silence while he does his work. Doesn't matter if you are laying your head in his lap, hugging him, clinging onto him or just sitting beside him in general. It can be rather calming

Yes, Fyodor does gives you nicknames, but just a little bit more ✨classy✨ and probably Russian

Taking you on fancy dates at least once a week is part of his job as a boyfriend for him. Of course he does because he wants to, but he also does it, because he thinks you deserve it.

Eye contact with him is so overwhelming and calming at the same time. Like it's easy to hold eye contact with him, but at the same time it's so hard. I don't think i can explain it better than this.

Would sometimes says something in Russian and then makes you guess what he says. Like a game. If you guess it right, he's taking a break from work to spend time with you. He always gets so surprised wehn you actually do guess something right

This guy is a light sleeper so if you ever wake up in the middle of the night, because of a nightmare or just can't sleep, he'll wake up right after you. Ask you what's wrong and if he can help with something.

Speaking of nights he looks so peaceful while he is sleeping. Like there are a few guys in bsd that would look ten times more beautiful while they are sleeping and he is one of them.

Honestly not a big fan of PDA. Like if you ask him for something? Yeah okay, he's alright with that, but don't expect him to start something first.

Wearing his ushanka >< even if it's just to mess with him. He will be like "Give it back to me right now" but at his mind he would think how cute you look wearing it.

Honestly i know it's Fyodor, but he is the type of guy to let you do that one tik tok trend with the lipstick kisses. Do i know why it is like this? No.

Reblogs are highly appreciated!

@dazailoveschuuya

#mariaace 🪼#x reader #bsd #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x reader #bsd fyodor #bsd fluff #bsd headcanons #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor fluff #fyodor headcanons #fyodor x you

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abbyromanoff · 1 year

Note

Hi can pls request milf!gp!carol danvers x milf!thicc!reader

ALL ASPECTS

PAIRINGS: Carol Danvers x reader

WORD COUNT: 2498

WARNINGS: smut, fluff, body worship, praise, thigh fucking, milf!R, milf!Carol, teasing, cunnilingus, fucking in front of a mirror, chubby!R, insecure!R, carol has a dick, service top!Carol, fingering, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

You put your sticky note inside your book with a sigh - you were getting to the good part. The blonde, Michelle, reminded you of your girlfriend with her snarky remarks. Carol never understood why you were so engrossed in those novels, yet she found it adorable when you’d bite your lip and read a page multiple times for reasons she didn’t know.

The brownies would’ve burned if you hadn’t gotten up, so you had no choice. It was a quiet night, although most were ever since your wife got sent out for a two-month mission. Besides your rowdy children who seemed only to know how to make messes, there really was no enjoyment without her. And tonight, your oldest son, Daniel, was sleeping over at his friend’s house while your daughter was beyond ecstatic for her friends to come over and hadn’t left her room for over an hour. The brownies were for them, but she didn’t need to know if you had one or two.

The baby of the house, your four-year-old baby boy, Christian, was at your parent’s house after you gladly accepted their pleas to spend time with their grandchild. While you loved them all to death, you just wanted peace for the night, which meant reading, watching a movie, and sporting a glass of wine before bed.

Right as you were getting ready for a relaxing bubble bath, already checking in on your guests and seeing they were all knocked out, there was a loud bang outside your house. Fear indulged you, speed-walking towards the kitchen as you grabbed the sharp knife from a drawer. Your attention landed on the front door as you heard the knob twisting, trying to open. Your fears were only calmed when you saw your wife of twelve years walk through the entry, head down, as she tried her best to stay silent.

It was only when she looked up did she notice your frantic state, widening her eyes with a chuckle. She lifted her arms and signaled for you to come over, your body still stuck in shock and unable to register what was going on.

“Well? Do I get a hug?” You hurried into her arms after hearing her oh-so-angelic voice, her arms instantly returning your tough hold as one of her hands found its way to your head as she scratched lightly at your scalp. She knew the action always made your muscles relieve their tension as you were finally allowed to release a deep breath.

“You’re home.” You stated the obvious, a small snort coming from the blonde.

“Really? I didn’t notice.” You gave her a small glare before continuing to cuddle in her arms, basking in the warmth she offered even on such a cold night.

“I missed you so much, beautiful.” She murmured, kissing the top of your head and inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

“Mm, ‘missed you too.” The two of you stood there for what seemed like seconds but was really over ten minutes. You felt as though you could fall asleep right there as she hummed thoughtfully, smiling to herself as she admired the ring planted on your finger.

“Where’s your ring?” You asked with furrowed brows after the two of you pulled back, much to your dismay. She reached into her suit where she pulled out a necklace, the ring dangling from the gold material.

“Did you really think I’d lose this thing? I’d be dead the second I stepped inside.” She teased with a grin, receiving an eye roll from your end.

“Come on, Ava and her friends are asleep and I just drew a bath if you’d like to join.” You turned to walk into the hallway that held your shared room, the blonde following closely behind you like a lost puppy.

When you arrived in the master bathroom you shedded your clothes and your wife watched with a lick of her lips. Your bra fell to the floor along with your panties soon after while she slowly did the same, eyes still set on your body. You were always insecure about it, every curve and stretch mark brought a new set of self-hatred, but she loved every inch of you. From your kind soul to your breathtaking body, she didn’t know how she got so lucky.

“So, tell me about your day.” She spoke when settling into the warm water behind you. It wasn’t as hot as you hoped it would be due to your time spent with Carol.

“Well, I picked the kids up from school and helped them with their homework before making dinner. Oh, and Christian is still throwing his food at his siblings.” She chuckled, arms wrapping around your waist as she pulled you in closer.

“That little rascal, he’s gonna drive us up a wall.”

“He already does.” You rested your head on her shoulder and sighed deeply with a small smile, opening your eyes and being greeted by your wife staring back down at you. She brushed a strand of hair out of your face and leaned in to give you a small peck, quickly diving back in for more.

“You look so beautiful, love.” She muttered between each kiss. You shifted in her hold, keeping her close so she couldn’t pull away again. The two of you made out sensually, not caring to quicken your paces as both of you were purely exhausted.

You pulled back for a moment so you could adjust your body, settling on her lap with your legs folded at her side. Your arms wrapped around the back of your neck as you played with her hair. She watched you carefully, biting her lip as her hands rubbed your sides up and down thoughtfully.

“How did I get so lucky to call you mine, hm?” She brought her fingertips to your exposed breasts that had droplets of soap covering them. She pressed her lips against yours once again, although this one was different. You could taste the desire and eagerness coming off of her lips, but it still didn’t replace the love that overpowered them both.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, you’re so perfect.” A blush threatened to make way to your cheeks as you grinned.

“Nobody is perfect.”

“Oh, but that’s not true because whenever I lay my eyes on you I see pure perfection. You have the most forgiving and peaceful soul, even after all that you’ve been through. Your heart is full of love, even when people don’t deserve it. Your eyes, don’t even get me started, I could stare into them for a lifetime and never find myself bored.” You could tell she wasn’t lying, the pure admiration in her features helped prove that. She truly loved you more than anything, and she was so grateful you felt the same way.

“Your body, every marking tells such a beautiful and strong story. I see you trying to hide your stretch marks and scars, but I wish you could love them as much as I do. You’re the reason we have three amazing children, you brought life into this world and every stretch mark shows that. They show strength, life, and happiness; how could I ever wish for that to go away?” You bowed your head down, only to meet her gaze once more as she lifted your chin with her fingers.

“I want to show you just how beautiful you are, but only if you let me.” You nodded, but that wasn’t what she wanted.

“Words, baby, I want to hear how bad you need it.” You whined, wiggling your hips on her slightly hardened cock that was teasingly poking you. She grasped your waist to force you to stop, pressing small kisses against your neck until she was next to your ear.

“Tell me what you want, or you’ll get nothing.” She whispered, feeling your hands grasp onto each side of her face and pull her into you, connecting your mouth with hers once again. You were obsessed with feeling her close to you, you were scared that if you didn’t you’d end up waking up moments later and realizing she was still gone.

Her tongue prodded at your lips as your hips continued to grind on her crotch, she didn’t stop you this time. You threw your head back and she found herself sucking a deep mark into your neck, not caring if you struggled to hide it at a later date, she was just as needy as you.

“I need you, Carol, I need you so bad.” You cried out. You felt her hand interlacing with yours as she guided you to stand up with her, neither of you bothered to dry yourself as she guided you to sit in front of the full-length mirror that was planted near your bed. You shuddered, already knowing what was to come next.

“I need you to be quiet, okay? Don’t want to wake up the girls, now do we?” You shook your head, that was the last thing you wanted.

She ran her hands up and down your thighs, groaning at the plush skin that greeted her. She slowly spread them, licking her lips with hunger as she eyed your cunt. You were dripping, and it wasn’t because of the bath.

She couldn’t stop herself, moving in to lick a small stripe up your folds and earning a hidden moan on your end. She looked up at you with a smirk while her tongue ran small circles on your clit, your hips jutting upwards.

“I want you to look into that mirror,” You did as asked. “And I want you to watch yourself as I make you cum. Then, I want you to tell me just how beautiful you are, I want to hear it.” You nodded with a whisper of agreement, willing to do anything for her touch. She seemed satisfied with your answer and returned to her position, her mouth wrapping around your swollen bud as she teased a singular digit near your hole.

“Fuck, I-”

“Shh, just watch, that’s all I ask.” You struggled to keep your eyes open as she eased her finger inside of you, letting you have a moment to grow used to the accommodation before starting slow thrusts.

You looked at yourself through the reflection, noticing the way your hips created a grind as your mouth parted open. Your arm occasionally twitched as you struggled to hold yourself up, your other hand finding itself braided in your wife’s hair.

“Please- please, Carol.” A second digit soon joined as you let out a choked moan, struggling to keep quiet as she asked.

“You gonna cum, baby?” You nodded rapidly, trying to bring her as close as possible to your heat. She was engrossed in your taste, her tongue sloppily trying to get a marking of every spot possible.

“Mhm!” You removed your hand from her head and covered your mouth, hoping it was a way to silence any noise. She wanted to hear you, but she understood your fear of waking up your daughter or even her friends.

“Tell me you’re beautiful.”

“Carol-”

“If you want to cum then do as I say.” Your legs were shaking and your juices were dripping down her fingers that were moving in and out of you at an incredible pace.

“I-I’m beautiful.”

“No, say it like you mean it.” Tears rushed down your face from the edging, your breathing speeding up as you chased your high.

“I’m beautiful!”

“Again.”

“I’m beautiful!”

“Again!”

“I’m beautiful!” You grew progressively louder with each repeating of the word, sighing happily when she finally let you go, your release hitting you almost instantly.

“Carol- ah!” She kissed each of your thighs softly as you came down from your high, making up blabbered words along the way. Small hickeys were left on your skin, she couldn’t care less if someone was able to see them.

Moments later you found yourself standing on wobbly legs, Carol standing behind you as her cock ran through your thighs, occasionally brushing against your clit and sending waves of pleasure through you.

“Fuck- you’re so fucking perfect, sweetheart.” Her arms wrapped around your waist as your hands interlaced with hers on your stomach. She pressed kisses against the valley of your neck, eying you through the mirror with a small smile.

“You take me so well, Mommy.” She muttered, a whine following soon after. Her breasts bumped against your back as her hips drew back only to push forward once again.

“Please-” You were cut off with a small whimper, her drooling tip teasing your bud causing your eyes to roll back. Her hands explored your body quickly before stopping at your breasts, her fingers pinching and tweaking your hardened nipples.

“Such a pretty Mommy, ‘love you so much.” Her pace was uneven and sloppy as she chased after you, trying to bask in every thrust as her mouth fell open in a silent scream.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh, god, you feel so good!” She stuffed her face in the brink of your neck, biting down on the skin to quiet herself and causing a hiss of pain from your side.

“‘M sorry, you just- yes! You’re so perfect, Mommy, ‘m so fucking lucky.” Each word that left her mouth had you melting and had your cunt clenching. She was teasing you, really, causing your hand to travel to your clit. Your thumb brushed against her sensitive head, leading her to cry out even more.

“I think- I think I’m gonna cum. C-can I cum? Please? Please, I need it so bad.” You only smiled, admiring her desperate state. Knowing that you were the one who made her so…needy, turned you on even further.

“Yes, yes, yes! Please cum all over me, honey, please.” It only took seconds for her finish to paint your legs, weakened whimpers escaping her. Her hold on you had tightened as she blew out deep breaths, clutching onto any part of you that she could.

“Shit, that was amazing.” She let out, resulting in your agreeance. Her heart was beating fast, sweat covering both of your tired bodies, but she wasn’t done just yet.

“You see how much I love you, baby?” She started. “You’re perfect, at least to me you are. You don’t need to see it yet, but I promise I’m gonna spend the rest of my life proving to you every single day that you’re the only one I want.” She was sincere, and you didn’t know if it was that or her words that created tears.

“I love you so much, Carol.” She liked the way her name rolled off your tongue, it would never get old.

“I love you to the moon and back, darling.” But even that wasn’t true, because she loved you more than that. She loved you like no other, and she hoped someday you’d truly see that.

#carol danvers x y/n #carol danvers x you #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers #carol danvers smut #carol danvers x female reader #carol danvers x reader smut #captain marvel x reader smut #captain marvel #captain marvel x you #captain marvel angst #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel fluff #captain marvel smut

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mysterystarz · 6 months

Text

just keep falling for

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x g!n reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, boatload of an oblivious but perceptive reader, kuroo really doesn’t know how to get the obvious out and reader cannot really tell him they know what he means

notes: rewatching hq and i literally fell in love w everyone again — dedicated to all kuroo fans, not proofread at all

also i haven’t written in so long so my style is all over the place so pls critique me and also my hand slipped

reblogs and opinions are appreciated <3

kuroo was taking an awfully long time in the locker room.

standing in the gym, you watched as the first years helped with deconstructing the volleyball nets for the day. while you offered your help, they politely declined, suggesting you wait to accompany their captain out to advertise their great work.

normally, kuroo was quick. any jokes that happened inside the locker room were quick to reach your ears, and you knew how much he tried to include you in everything.

you leaned against the wall, watching the clock tick for a whole minute before opting to pace around the gym.

little did you know, kuroo was having a meltdown inside the locker room.

“kuroo!” yaku yelled, brandishing his towel. “you need to get a grip. stop freaking out. you’re supposed to be the composed one!”

“seriously kuroo,” kenma agreed, “why are you acting so surprised. it’s not like this is new news.”

“guys,” kuroo began, raking a finger through his hair, “this messes up everything.”

“is this about y/n?” lev asked, finally entering the locker room. “did kuroo finally do something about that crush?”

“enough!” kuroo sighed, sitting down at one of the benches. in the span of the last ten minutes, kuroo had one of the most dramatic realizations of his life.

he liked you.

you, his best friend and his other half. you, who cheered for him at every game and even lended him cool analogies to use in captains speeches. you, who stole his jacket and ran away from him, leaving him to chase you as far as the two of you could run.

he wasn’t sure what had changed. somehow, you’d entered his head, and with every pump of his heart, you sunk deeper and deeper into his bloodstream.

“did you seriously not know?” yaku asked gently, “because if you ask us, it was obvious from the very start. you hold them in such high regard.”

“i didn’t,” he admitted, turning to meet yaku’s eyes. “i didn’t know and now, i don’t know what to do. we’ve been friends for ages….i don’t even think they see me that way.”

“just tell them kuroo,” kenma said, not looking up from his console. “they like you a lot, they’re not going to say no.”

the team voiced their agreement, and began to file out of the locker room at last.

“sorry to keep you waiting,” he smiled, meeting your gaze as he walked out of the locker room.

“no problem,” you said, returning a grin of your own. “was there something going on in there?”

“nahhhhh,” he laughed, “someone was just having a meltdown about how to do a proper confession.”

“confession?” you rose a brow, and kuroo silently cursed himself for letting such a specific detail slip.

for a moment, you were stunned. as you walked, you considered all the possibilities.

you knew lev had been racking up quite the fanbase through his games, and you also knew how yaku was starting to branch out a bit more. if kenma had a prospective partner, you would’ve already heard of it by now.

unless…unless it was kuroo having the meltdown.

you pondered this detail as you walked out of the school doors, holding them open for your lanky best friend.

“hey dork,” you began, “who are you planning on confessing to? it was your meltdown, right?”

kuroo felt his heart drop in his chest. curse you and your quick connections.

“what makes you think the meltdown was mine?”

“because i would’ve known about everyone else,” you smiled confidently. “you would’ve told me.”

kuroo simply looked at you, distracted by your smile and the way it lit up your eyes. if only he could put it into words.

you had a way of making him nervous.

“i’d tell you details if you stopped smiling at me like that. too bright — it’s hurting my eyes.” he teased.

what he didn’t expect was for you to laugh and immediately drop your smile, transitioning to a serious face.

“tell me now,” you huffed, “i deserve to know who’s on your mind these days.”

he sighed.

if there was one thing worse than your uncanny ability to read his mind, it was the lack of that ability to tell that you were the only person he ever thought about.

kuroo got home, resting his bag on the floor of his room and immediately dialing kenma. he picked up in an instant, and kuroo couldn’t help but be thankful for his setter.

“kenma,” he sighed, “this is like one of your games. impossible.”

“let me guess. y/n didn’t catch a hint?”

“they know it’s me” he groaned, “they know i had the meltdown. they know there’s someone in my head. they keep trying to ask me who it is, but i can’t just say ‘it’s you’ can i?”

“being direct is actually a good idea.” kenma suggested, “go retry that level kuroo. maybe you’ll have some luck this time.”

with that, kenma hung up, leaving kuroo frenzied with an emotion that felt a lot like hope.

sitting and staring out the window, you wondered if now was a good time to acknowledge your growing crush on nekoma’s middle blocker.

he was everything you could ever ask for. thoughtful, sweet, laughably charming, and with a nerdy twist that made him a dork and undeniably your other half.

it didn’t help how handsome he’d become over the years either. he’d gotten taller and taller, his eyes golden and his hair endearingly messy. he was solid from all the days spent practicing, and after every embrace, you were left craving more.

as much as you didn’t want to admit your discomfort, the sensation hovered over you like a fog.

the idea of kuroo having feelings for someone else was bittersweet. you adored him — you really did, and his happiness was yours.

but….you couldn’t help but wish that you could both be happy. that he’d see you the way you’d always seen him.

someone to just keep falling for.

the next morning, kuroo came to grab you from your house for the daily walk to school. he’d made an effort to make sure his tie was on incorrectly in the hopes that you’d fix it for him.

you greeted him at the door, breaking into a grin upon seeing his disheveled state.

“come inside,” you sighed, dragging him by the hand into the foyer. he stood patiently as you reached for his tie, straightening out the edges and meticulously smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt.

“it’s almost like we’re married.” he teased, happy at the flustered expression that shot onto your features. “what? cat got your tongue?”

“shut up tetsu.”

“i don’t want to.” he said, looking into your eyes. he hoped that there was something conveyed in the silent space between you. the tenseness was all but palpable.

“oh.” you whispered, cupping his cheek. “so this is your confession? a messy tie and a lot of cheek.”

“of course,” he smirked, “you’re the only person i’d do that for.”

#nova scribbles <3 #man tags I forgot about these #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo imagine #kuroo drabble #kuroo headcanons #kuroo tetsurō #haikyuu kuroo

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onlyswan · 2 years

Text

summary: in which you are jungkook’s religion and he wants to be your passenger princess.

> fluff / wc: 3k

> warnings: there’s like a three second earthworm cameo lol, jk is living his best life in this bicycle date <3

note: i loved writing this + it reminded me of this drabble i suggest reading it too :( pls tell jk to stop being so cute my heart can’t handle it :( oh and imagine the current jungkook with his long hair and pretty bangs btw <3 reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated :]

—

“hmm?” you hum in question when jungkook’s tattooed hand pushes up your elbow. the book you’ve been reading uncovers his head lying on your lap, acting as a paperweight for the pastel yellow summer dress adorning your figure.

“humor me, okay?”

in the midst of his pensive facade, his lips are curved into a lazy smile, almost undetectable if only you aren’t so close that you can vividly see the scar on his cheek and the texture of his honey skin. his face is a little puffy and his eyes are hazy, adorably so, courtesy of the nap he woke up from ten minutes ago.

there are scattered speckles of sunlight painted all over the two of you, in the shape of the gaps between the leaves of the tall tree supporting your back. the wind gently blows through his hair and the edges of the blue gingham picnic blanket spread out beneath you, as if the earth is sighing dreamily at the han riverside scenery.

“would you still love me if i became a worm?”

“what?”

you cover the lower half of your face with the book when a snort bluntly escapes you, and uncontrollable giggles racking your body follow soon after. they prompt the thin strap of your dress to fall off the curve of your right shoulder, and your boyfriend swiftly swoops in, slipping his index finger through it to put it back into position.

“would you still love me if i became a worm?!” he repeats the question louder in faux irritation, but he can’t conceal a toothy grin because your laughter is contagious, a melody that brings him unfathomable joy. an echo that will remind him he was once here, with you, a moment in time locked away in the palace of his most precious memories.

he grasps your wrists to his chest to confront you, and you completely lose your weakened grip on the book. unshed tears gather at the corners of your eyes as your laughter refuses to cease.

“listen- you’re cute, but i need to take the internet away from you.”

his doe eyes grow rounder, whiny voice with a lisp tugging at your heartstrings because you never not find every little thing about him painfully endearing. “baby, stop avoiding the topic. i demand honest answers!”

“of course i would! love doesn’t go away that easily!” you yield to his stubborn need to pry the answers from you. “but it depends on my mood that day, and maybe how you even became a worm in the first place? uh, i’d build you a garden and a little house. oh! and even crochet some cute little outfits for you according to the seasons, keep you warm and safe so you don’t have to hide in the soil . . .”

it’s true that you’ve been dipping your toes into crocheting nowadays, one of your works in progress being a sweater for bam in early preparation for this year’s winter. however, the stars in his eyes ignited by your sweet rambling transform into a dull glimmer of disappointment when he hears the horrifying continuation of your sentence.

“or if it’s a beauty and the beast situation and you got cursed for being bad, then i’d put you in a bucket and go fishing.”

he abruptly sits up, sending your book tumbling down on his lap and . . . you lose your page number just like that.

“fishing? fishing?! isn’t that too harsh? what happened to for better or for worse?” dumbfounded, he frantically shakes his head. “what are you going to say when bam goes looking for his daddy?!”

you tilt your head to the side, highly amused at the man who turned out to only want a sweet response from you despite spitting out the question in a joking manner.

you look at him with wide, innocent eyes. “that you went fishing?”

he pouts somberly, staring into the far distance, where the blue sky stretches endlessly. “bro, you’d expect to know somebody because you live with them and you raise a dog together.”

he heaves a dramatic sigh as he raises both arms to push his hair back, long fingers smoothly gliding across the dark locks. the sleeves of his oversized black t-shirt bunch around his shoulders to reveal more of the tattoos covering the entirety of his right arm, but then his bangs fall back into place like dominoes, and he does it all over again.

“oh, my baby. come on.” you inch closer to hug his waist, planting a kiss on his cheek before leaning your chin on his shoulder. “you’re really just going to ignore the garden and crochet part?”

he overtly ignores your words with a scoff, but he puts a hand over your interlocked ones so he won’t slip out of your embrace as he reaches out for a stick among the lush green grass. your loud gasp beside his ear makes him snicker as he scoops up the earthworm that has crawled dangerously close to his white and washed denim nike air jordans. aside from the cover of ‘the seven husbands of evelyn hugo’ hovering above his face, he was also greeted by this unwordly creature when he woke up from his nap. still sluggish as his body and brain gradually recovered to their full functions, he quietly watched it crawl around the spacious picnic blanket, half out of his mind. well, that was until he got bored.

“go- you need to go. get away from here and travel far where you won’t be found. you’re not safe in this place!” he cries out with his roleplay mode turned on, garnering a weird look from a passerby.

“that’s not far away. at all.” you remark teasingly as he gently sets it down behind the tree, less than two feet away.

“i only showed it a new direction. it can manage on its own. the lessons in life are sprinkled along the treacherous journey.” he scrunches his nose as he chuckles, placing back the stick exactly where he found it. “okay, i’m awake! let’s go ride a bike now!”

“i’m already on chapter 40, though.” you sadly mumble to yourself, having enjoyed the inner peace that enveloped you a while ago, when you finally overcame your month-long reading slump with the meditative aid of nature’s generous spring.

your arms automatically drop down to your sides when he energetically springs up in excitement. he picks up the handwoven picnic basket, opening one of the lids and pushing aside the emptied lunch boxes to safely tuck your book inside.

“baaabe, move.”

“huh?” he makes a noise of confusion when he feels the fabric get tugged underneath his feet. “oh- right, wait.”

he walks backwards at your command, allowing you to remove the rest of the picnic blanket off the grass. he patiently waits as you fold it into half, and half, and half, until it becomes small enough to fit in the basket he’s holding open.

he’s been unable to keep his eyes off you since this morning— glancing, looking, admiring your facial features and the way your eyebrows furrow in the slightest when you’re focused on a task (he doesn’t think you know this at all); down to your neck, and your chest exposed by the low square neckline of your dress. you were pouting in the car because you forgot to wear a necklace, exclaiming ‘i knew i forgot something!’ but he thinks your bare skin under the sunlight is priceless compared to gold. he loves your legs in shorts, dresses, skirts; hell, his boxers— loves how you carry yourself with grace and finesse wherever you go. past the walls he built around his heart, didn’t have to make them crumble because you are the key.

his lips have touched every inch of your body a couple million times that it has become more of a religion, putting mere familiarity into shame.

he puts down the basket on the grass after you slip the blanket inside, whispering a tender “baby, come here,” as he guides you towards the tree, pinning your back on it.

“why?” you gape at him in curiosity, hands grasping at his hips because you subconsciously trust jungkook to keep you steady more than a tree deeply rooted in the earth.

“the straps won’t stop falling off. i’ll fix it.” now that he’s speaking in a hushed tone, you can hear the roughness around the edges of his voice caused by sleep.

he deliberately towers over you to shield you from strangers’ eyes, pulling at the strings wrapped around your right shoulder to undo the ribbon sitting on top of it. he maintains a secure grip, wary of the neckline of your dress sliding further down as he makes a knot, and then another to finish off the ribbon.

you gaze at him lovingly, an affectionate smile lighting up your face. sometimes you forget how attentive your boyfriend is. you confess that you meant to tie the straps a little loosely, but you didn’t intend for them to fall off so often.

“thank you.”

he responds to your lively chirp with a kiss on the lips, your mixed berries flavored lip balm staining his. his tongue instantaneously darts out to give it a taste, the mole under his bottom lip making an appearance as he separates the straps of your tote bag from the second pair of strings.

the wind blows once more, three times stronger than the last, and jungkook tightly twists the strings around his two longest fingers as he waits for it to pass. you squeeze your eyes shut, forehead colliding with his chest to hide from the dust that could potentially blind you.

the wind eases, and he clicks his tongue as he continues fixing your dress, repeating the same steps with thoughtful precision. the back of his hands graze your skin every now and then, soft and smooth from the skincare products he smears on them to apply to his face.

“ah, this is insane. good thing we already had lunch before it got this windy.”

“i kind of love it. the earth feels so alive.”

your breath hitches when he ducks down to press a chaste kiss on where your neck and shoulder meet. the warmth of his lips contrasts the coldness of the ring pierced at the corner of his mouth. the intimate sound chimes in your ear, the sensation sending tingles to your lower abdomen.

“mhmm, know you do. you always see the good in things.” in me, the words he wants to add hang unbalanced on the tip of his tongue.

—

by the time you decide that you want to rent an electric scooter instead of a bicycle, jungkook is already paddling towards you while wheeling one by his side.

he enthusiastically shouts, “let me be the passenger princess today!”

and a wave of flashbacks from two years ago wash over you as he draws nearer— when he poured his blood, sweat, and tears into eight tortorous days of teaching you how to ride a bicycle because you forgot how to. you’d expect him to take that as a very telling sign not to ride one with you, but the man standing infront of you seems enraptured by the idea alone.

“sure, but give me a kiss first.” you bat your eyelashes coyly, and he doesn’t waste time in granting your request. he pulls your face closer by the back of your neck, lips crashing against yours for a kiss that robs the air from your lungs. and what a heavenly way to die.

“happy? or more?” he raises an eyebrow flirtatiously.

“greedy boy.” you scold him, lightly pushing his cheek to the opposite direction, and he dryly chuckles at your choice of words. fuck, you know him too well.

“you carry this, love.” you transfer the basket hanging on your forearm to his tattooed one, and your thumb briefly skims across the indents on your skin left by the pattern of the handles.

“i thought you wanted to ride one yourself, though?”

“changed my mind when i saw there’s a backseat.” he sticks out his tongue playfully, laying hold of your tote bag and putting it in the basket between the handles infront.

you roll your eyes as you climb on the seat, putting one foot on the pedal and anchoring the other on the asphalt road. you release a heavy sigh. “made myself all pretty today not knowing i’ll end up sweaty and gross.”

“aish! my butt! it hurts!” his moans and grunts of pain are accompanied by cackles as he shifts on the metal seat behind you. once he deems himself comfortable enough, he wraps his arms around your waist for . . . hopefully, obvious safety reasons. “damn, okay. there we go. i’m ready. sweep me off my feet, baby.”

you swat his hand lightly. “be careful what you wish for.”

“you’re cute when you try to be mean.” he squeezes your sides as an alternative for your cheeks.

“aren’t you scared that i might drive us off into the river? not even a little bit?!”

instead of pressuring you into not making an uncalculated mistake, he simply says “so what? i can swim.”

—

“shit, shit, shit! i feel like i’m falling! b-babe- are you doing this on purpose now?!” jungkook erupts into another fit of childlike giggles and high-pitched squeals as you glide across a curve and the bicycle tilts slightly to the side. your hips occassionally rises from the seat so you can push down at the pedals with more effort, spurring moments of him loosely clinging to you.

“maybe? you enjoy stuff like this!” you grin mischievously to yourself.

his long legs are starting to feel sore from having to keep them lifted off the ground, but this is infinitely better than putting them on either side of the bicycle and risking the possibility of getting his balls smushed. besides, he is enamored by the fact that he is face-to-face with the perfect view of the dancing trees, the babbling river, and the bustling city life on the opposite side.

he taps the circle button on his phone screen to end the panorama, swiping to the left to switch to a video. he allows the camera to capture the rest of the beautiful scenery before flipping it to the front.

“i’m having so much fun! i’m never sitting at the front of the bike again- never!” he yells at the reflection of himself, hair covering almost his entire face. the sight makes him laugh heartily. “ay, i look ridiculous with the wind slapping my face. fuck, what is this? my hair- it’s driving me crazy-”

he aggressively shakes his head to get them out of the way, regretting not tying up his hair before you took off.

“then what about me?! i’m fighting against it!” you yell back, squinted eyes persevering the ruthless gusts of wind. the only difference is that you can feel it sweeping through your hair, through your dress, as if you’re soaring and you’re free, not running away but heading somewhere.

“but you’re going to enjoy it when we go back and it’s behind you! trust me!”

this is the first time jungkook is the bicycle passenger since god knows when. he doesn’t remember it being this marvelous, thrilling in its most wholesome form. meanwhile, this is the first time you’re riding a bicycle with a passenger. perhaps you made the same mistake you kept on making two years ago: kicking your feet as if you’re in a race, thinking speed equals to balance. he had to remind you to calm down, slow down, stop looking down all over again. that was at the first minute. your anxieties have been long gone, quelled by your boyfriend’s sheer delight radiating for miles and miles. his happiness is a bubble expanding in size as the wind blows relentlessly.

his phone is returned to the confines of his deep pocket after he deems himself satisfied with the memories he recorded in the device. he properly hugs your waist again, resting his head on the expanse of your back, thin cotton against the apple of his cheek. his heavy eyelids flutter shut. he breathes in, chest rising and pushing against the tough handles of the basket hanging pretty on his forearm, and he breathes out. with his sense of sight idle, it almost feels like you’re flying him to outer space.

“jungkook, you better not fall asleep there. i’m serious.” you sternly remind him, panic meter going up when you notice more of his weight gradually limping against yours.

“yah! you- i love you; i won’t do that to you. don’t be scared.” he chuckles, heart swelling with fondness for the concern lacing your voice.

you melt at his charming reassurance. “i love you too.”

“nyam.”

“did you just bite me?” you whip your head to the back in suspicion when you feel a faint sting blossoming on your shoulder.

he innocently looks at the bite mark he left on your skin, and when he tilts up his chin to catch a glimpse of your face, your eyes have already refocused on the bicycle path. ”i did . . . you taste like what i imagine the sunshine would taste.”

“is that a good thing?”

“yeah, good. like honey.”

“thank my body wash for that.” you giggle, and jungkook yearns to see your face, but he shall marvel at the rows of pink and white flowers approaching ahead in the meantime.

“no, that’s not it.” a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he corrects you in a voice so soft it almost breaks. “it’s you. just you.”

—

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

—

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

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wolfiihoney · 2 months

Text

Quick blurb for my lovelies! Pls enjoy this quick poorly written piece <33 unedited btw srry hehe 💖

Higuruma wasn't easily bothered, but there were a few things that got under his skin, like loud noises, crowded stores, traffic, burnt toast, and more,

what really bothered him was the change in your sleeping routine.

Since meeting you, he had altered his work schedule to ensure the early start and end times, but lately, he'd noticed that you were waking up early, even earlier than him. You had several hours before your usual wake-up time, so why were you also rising with the sun?

This new habit was starting to concern Higuruma, and he knew he had to find out what was going on.

It was midnight, and you were sitting on the couch in the living room, watching a show but not truly paying attention to it. Sure, you loved the series, but your mind was preoccupied with intrusive thoughts. They had become more frequent lately, resurfacing after months of quiet. You yearned for the comfort of your gentle giant, but instead, you were left alone with your unchecked worries.

Higuruma, In your shared bed finally decided to talk to you after ten minutes of thinking about the matter. he walked into the living room to see you lost in thought,

“Love?” he said, his voice deep with sleep as he sat close to you on the couch, space didn’t exist to higuruma when it came to you.

You turned towards him wondering why he was out of bed.

“Hi baby, why are you awake? You have to leave in a couple of hours.” You said not wanting him to oversleep just because of yourself.

You snuggled into his side, feeling safe in his embrace. “Why haven’t you been coming to bed.” He was hoping he wasn’t the reason for your unhealthy sleep schedule.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice soft.

Higuruma tightened his arms around you, his concern was evident in his tone. "Is everything alright y/n?”

His fingers gently grazed the skin beneath your eyes. “You look a little tired, love,” he said kissing the darkness under your eyes. You wanted to cry, he made you feel so safe.

“I mean I am a little tired but I can’t sleep, I’ve just been thinking so much,” you said becoming more embarrassed.

“I can’t stop, I keep guilting myself and beating myself up, I don’t know why I feel this way.” You said trying to hold back tears. Higuruma's heart clenched as he listened to your words, the pain and confusion you were feeling echoing through your voice. He pulled you even closer, wrapping you tightly in his arms.

"Hey, hey," he said, his voice gentle. He cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"I wish you had told me earlier," he said, his own eyes filled with concern and love. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

“I know… I don’t know, I just didn’t want to burden you with me not knowing how to control my thoughts, I’m sorry.” You said looking down at your lap

“Why are you apologizing y/n? You could never burden me,” he said standing while picking you up, with his hands on your butt so you could face him.

“Okay,” he said with determination in his voice. “we’re going to bed, and if you can’t sleep tonight that’s okay, we’ll be up together and we can just sleep in later today.” He said entering the room and plopping you onto the big bed. “But we both have work.” You said.

“I’ll call Gojo and let him know you’re sick and can’t come into the school, he won’t believe me and he’ll probably think I’m trying to keep you all to myself which is true,”

He said with a deep chuckle. “and I have more than enough unused off days so I’ll be fine.”

He pulled you closer to him and squeezed you into a tight hug almost like he was trying to make you feel the undeniable love and devotion he has for you. “Get some rest, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He said kissing your forehead and then your lips. He now was determined to ease your mind.

Reblogs are definitely appreciated!

Xoxo

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alien-magnolia · 2 years

Text

Lost: Part 2

Lost: pt 2

Fic description: After spending a night with Jake, the two of you get to know each other better over the course of a few months. One special night, he takes you out flying, and you and Jake become a mated pair.

Tw: nsfw minors dni. shy + subby omaticaya fem! reader, (mentions of human!reader at first) dom! Jake sully, exhibitionism, breeding kink, choking, overstimulation, mating, size kink! Rough sex, etc. Don’t like, don’t read.

A/n: this is a long one. Around 4K words. Bit of romance/fluff combined with heavy sexual undertones. Heavy smut towards the end. I am going to make this into a series. If you like this post, pls help a writer out and reblog💙

You woke up to the shining sun through the trailer. Jake was still there, still asleep. It took you lots of effort to lift his arms off you, you were surprised he kept you in his arms the whole night. He wakes up with a moan. “Hey, you sleep okay?,” he asks, as he stands up to cup your face into his hand. He picks you up without warning (you did not mind), so you’re right in his arms. He places you on the counter top, so you are at eye level with him. You giggle, sheepishly. “Yes. Never better.”

“Okay. See you tonight.” He cups your face again, Hines you a wink, and jumps out the window, sprinting away. How could he like you? You were complete opposites, he was just so strong, tall, so big. His size drove you insane most of the time. Maybe you could be his sweeter, smaller half. You went out with him that night, and for many nights, it was you and him, together. He showed you many sights of the Pandoran forest, he taught you a bit of hunting, and he taught you most Omaticayan customs. After a few months, you began to fall for him, and you felt that this night might be more special than most.

One month later, the forest, around midnight:

You wait for him inside. Your human body was tucked away, fast asleep, you were here as an avatar now. You were only seven feet tall, compared to the common Na’vi, who reached a height of eight to ten feet tall. You put some flowers in your hair, and fumbled with the rings on your fingers.

You hear a knock. Jake is standing there, he is wearing some beaded bands around his arm, a beaded necklace too, perfectly fitted around his veiny neck. His serious face lights up for just a bit when he sees you. He comes closer to you, you crane your neck up to look at him.

“Hi,” he says, in a hushed tone. “Hi,” you reply to him. His eyes rake you up and down, he steps towards you. Even your Na’vi body felt so small under him. “Come here,” he motions to you. His big hands bring you into him, close to his warm body, as he gives you a long kiss, cupping your face. The man looked at you as if you were a goddess, he was in awe. After a few kisses, he takes your hand and leads you out the door. He had a few weapons with him too. “Just in case, pretty dangerous out here for you,” he teases with a cocky smile. You blush and give him a little slap on the wrist. Although he has taught you how to navigate the forest, he still would protect you, given any chance he would get.

His hand in yours, he leads you out into the forest, you scramble to keep up with his big steps, but he does slow down for your sake. There were some monkey-like creatures swinging over the two of you, but he shooed them off. He found it real cute when you’d cling closer to him, when you heard a loud noise or got scared by something.

You stop for a second because you wanted to collect samples. “Not here. Come on, I got a better place in mind, but you gotta trust me, okay sweetheart?,” he asks you. You nod, smiling. You cling onto him as he helps you cross this big log, and you see the beautiful night sky over the cliff.

He whistled, and suddenly, the great leonopteryx swoops down and lands right near him. Jake pats the creature on the head, chuckling at your awe. “You are Toruk Makto,” you trail off.

“That’s right. What did ya expect?,” he smirks back at you cockily.

You were shocked. Not only did you get the attention of a Na’vi warrior, but the most powerful, and it was Jake. Of course it was. With a body like his, you wouldn’t doubt it a second more. “Don’t be scared, he’s all mine. Come, fly with me. I want to show you something, baby,” he says, as he extends a hand to you. You hesitantly take it, and Jake connects his queue (the nerves at the end of his braid) to the creature to make tsaheylu, the bond. He lifts you up to put you on the creature, and sits in front of you. He screams for the creature to take off. It awakens something primal within you.

You have flown on an ikran before, but certainly not the giant one. You weren’t much of a thrill seeker like he was, but you liked it all the same. You knew the ways of the Na’vi people, how the Omaticaya lived in their village. He has taught you, introduced you to his world. Ikran was a hunter’s animal, powerful, fierce, just like your Jake.

You passed through the beautiful night sky, you saw the forest down below. You stay pressed to his back tightly as he expertly flies and lands the ikran on a cliff, he helps you down with a swift grab of your hips. “Stay,” he firmly tells the large creature. He was so dominant, even if it wasn’t sexual. You loved it.

You sat down to talk with him. He told you about his past as a human too, as a marine. He told you how he came to be an avatar at first, and now a permanent Na’vi. He told you the story of the war, how he became Toruk Makto, the protector of the Omaticaya. You tell him about yourself too, your shy nature and why you worked by yourself, secluded in the woods. You tell him about your human past as well.

You and him were complete opposites, but that drew the both of you to each other even more. You wanted him, he wanted you too. You stayed at the cliff for the rest of the night, until twilight — just before dawn.

“So. Are you mated?,” you ask shyly, hoping that he would say no. You hide your face again, blushing. You expect him to be mated already, there are plenty of Omaticaya women who would throw themselves at the Toruk Makto. He told you that he didn’t have a mate, but he was looking for one, and that apparently, he already found one.

“You found one?,” you asked, with a heavy heart. A tiny part of you longed for him as your mate. “Yeah. Honey. Think it’s you,” he chuckles, and smirks a bit, tilting his head to the side. “Me?,” you ask, in shock. “Yeah, you. So fuckin’ cute you are. I want to show you this special place. C’mon.”

He looked a bit worried that you’d refuse, but you simply smiled and took his hand again, loving the look of relief that brushed across his face. He lifted you onto the giant ikran, and the two of you set off again. He lands the bird in front of the Tree of Souls.

Helping you get off again, he leads you closer to the shimmering, bioluminescent cords and plants. You were in awe…

“Jake. I’ve always wanted to see this place. It’s so beautiful.” He chuckles, and agrees: “Look. You can hear the ancestors from this. All you have to do is put your queue onto the tree,” he explains, as he steps closer to you, pulling you down to sit on his lap. You do as he says, you connect with the tree, with Eywa. It is beautiful.

“Be my mate, baby. Be mine. I’d love nothing more,” he whispers to you, you stare into his adorable yellow eyes. “Eywa will guide us,” he asserts, and you nod excitedly.

You were ecstatic. He brings you in, closer, gently running his hands over your face. He takes his braid, you take yours, the two of you connect, you make tsaheylu. You felt his breath, his heart, his mind. He felt yours.

It felt so good to feel all of him, you were lost in his big, warm, chest. He smiled at you again as you kissed, his hands starting to have an iron-tight grip on your waist. “Was holding back before, baby. Didn’t want to hurt you,” he tells you. You didn’t want him to hold back anymore. “It’s okay, Jake. I trust you,” you gently whisper to him.

This time he pushes you up against him, rougher, your whole body just jolted from the way he was manhandling you. His kisses were addictive, you trail your hands down his toned abdomen. Both your tails were just twitching, he was groping at you with his full strength, it hurt.

You feel him push the cloth on his lap to the side, and without warning, he starts pushing his length into you. You could finally see it better, it was thick, the same color as his skin, with a few stripes and a large vein running down the right side. His tip was dark blue, and so soft as he pushed into you. You wanted to taste him, to feel him. Even in your taller form, it was hard to take him. His throbbing cock put so much pressure onto you. His hands harshly pinch and grope at your hips, your breasts.

He pushes into you roughly, all in one go. You let out a desperate moan, clawing at his large back for more. He chuckles. “Gonna be all fucked out on my cock, baby.” You can only nod. He starts bouncing you on him, going deeper and rougher with each thrust. You feel his groans come from his chest, which was pressed against yours, as both of you just kept looking into each other's eyes. His cock just hits that sweet spot in you, you feel so full with him, you feel his soft balls press up against your throbbing mound. “C’mon baby. Take me deeper, c’mon. Do it for me,” he grunts at you.

He uses the leverage on your hips to shove you down into the ground, now he towers over you, his cock now able to reach into you all the way. You feel one of his giant hands find it’s place on your throat. He has that determined look on his face. “Stay still for me.” You nod. “Good girl,” he grunts, and starts thrusting into you, his large biceps keeping him on top of you. You’re just delirious, cock-drunk, hell bent on having him rearrange your insides. You feel a bulge in your stomach, he puts his hand there, it’s still as big as half your abdomen. Even as a Na’vi, your size couldn’t match his.

“Feel that, sweetie. Feel my cock inside you, going all the way in. Gonna pump you so full of my cum, it’ll be spilling out of you the next day,” he growls, and you can only moan back in response, your glazed over eyes still on his.

You never, in your entire life, thought that you’d be here, under this beautiful tree, getting a fifteen inch alien cock rammed into you. Again, and again…

“You close, baby? You are, can feel that tight cunt just fuckin’ milkin me. Go on, girl. Cum for me,” he grunts, as his thrusts get sloppier. His brow is furrowed, it is dark, but you see the spots on his skin glow, his face stern, focused on pleasing his mate, claiming you as his. “J-Jake,…” you stutter timidly.

You felt so much, you felt everything. That white hot shock of pleasure was running through your veins, you felt high, you felt your heartbeat sync with his, so very fast. You felt his pleasure, you felt his emotions, you felt him inside you. His warm seed spills into you. He starts to slowly pull out. You grab his arm.

“Want you to stay in, Jake. Please,” you beg him. He chuckles, and lays down on you, pressing your body to the ground with his enormous weight. “I’ll stay, baby. Gotta make sure it takes, yeah?” You agree, your heart sings. “You’re mine now,” he whispers, as he nips kisses over your face. You feel his sharp fangs, making you let out a breathy moan. He was your predator, you were his prey. But you were both united now, as one. “I see you,” he whispers to you, with a small smile. “I see you, too.”

He flips you over on your side, you lay your head down on his heaving chest. You feel his muscles wrap around you, holding you tightly, secure. “You’re with me now, baby,” he hums. “Always and forever,” you whisper back.

Your braids stay connected, and the two of you dreamt together, now, as mates, under the Tree of Souls.

Avatar tag list: @23victoria @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @jake-sullys-whore @aerangi @brioffthegrid

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