#if you know what song the title comes from props to you

[nightmarevore]

I Get A Craving and I Wake Up For You

Size on The Side Verse, Info Here.

Rowan and Luke, Pred / Prey vore dynamic, Original Characters. Rowan belongs to @wonderful-bellies​, Luke belongs to me. (Character refs)

Rowan and Luke think about the time they did a vore for the first time. (Part One!)

Ao3 Link

Read The Next Part Here!

Word count: 5,454

Contains: Soft safe vore, mentions of same size vore, g/t vore, g/t cuddling, fearplay, unwilling to willing prey, fugue state pred, guilty pred, one somewhat eager prey, extreme cuddling. endosoma.

Things had been very different in the apartment since Luke and Rowan had been on that hiking trip. Rowan had said that he didn’t want to mention it again, and Luke almost felt bad trying to not bring it up again. Your roommate revealed that he was a predator and needed to eat people in order to survive, and then after eating you, told you to keep quiet about it and to never bring it up again? That was absolutely ridiculous. Not to mention, the two of them had ended up being more lost than they expected. Rowan had traveled around that hiking path with Luke inside of his stomach for practically a whole day.

When Rowan got home and let Luke out, he told Luke they could forget about it, and then Rowan left to lock himself in his room… 

What the fuck was that? There was NO way that Luke could even BEGIN to forget about that. From the time he spent inside Rowan’s stomach, to the time they spent actually TALKING to each other like that, it was… kind of nice, if he had to have an opinion on it. Luke had spent weeks trying to force his weird, grumpy roommate to open up to him, and when he did, it was because of some weird, obscure biology thing that Luke had only heard about vaguely.

Since then, Rowan locked himself in his room, only coming out to grab something from the kitchen, to work, or to go to the gym. He seemingly was avoiding Luke now more than ever. How very, very annoying.

It didn’t help that Luke found it so relaxing while he sat in Rowan’s stomach. Despite the situation of being stranded on a hiking trail with no sense of direction, Luke was locked away in Rowan’s stomach. The organ was soft, warm, and he had been so close to Rowan that he was quite literally INSIDE of him. 

It did nothing to subside the aggressive, possibly one-sided crush that he had on his predator of a roommate. 

Now, when he found his mind straying towards his feelings for Rowan, his mind showed him images of Rowan’s open maw as he stared straight down his throat. The image of Rowan’s mouth enveloping his head and aggressively swallowing him down out of sheer desperation. When it happened, it felt like time had stopped. The moment Luke agreed, Rowan was already attempting to swallow him down, yet all Luke saw when he closed his eyes these days was Rowan’s sharp, white teeth. The back of Rowan’s throat. Saliva that fell from his lips as the predator realized he was about to have a meal. 

Oh, my God, Luke! Shut up!

The size-shifter slapped his own face as he realized just what he was thinking about. His face was hot, and he was incredibly flustered. If he wasn’t lying in his own bed, he’d be embarrassed and hoping that Rowan was nowhere to be seen. 

No, in this case, Luke was wide awake in the middle of the night, his brain trailing off back towards Rowan’s fascinating “condition” as he called it. Why did he think of it so negatively? 

Luke recalled saying nothing but positive things and reassuring Rowan that it was fine if he had to do it, so why? And why was Luke so obsessed with being eaten again? It was his first experience ever being eaten by anyone, and it being by Rowan, no less. Did it have to do with his crush on him? He couldn’t get it out of his head. 

He couldn’t get Rowan’s heartbeat and breathing out of his head. The flesh that surrounded him as he rested inside the organ itself… 

Luke slapped his face again. 

***

Rowan’s stomach growled. 

A hand that rested on his stomach balled the fabric of his shirt into a fist out of frustration. Of course he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten anyone since the hike with Luke, and regular food hadn’t helped at all, no matter how much he ate. How frustrating was that?! How UNFAIR was that? Rowan didn’t want to rely on eating people, he never did. Yet here he was, wide awake in the middle night, starving and thinking about eating his roommate again. 

AGAIN.

Rowan had never wanted to bring up the fact that he was a predator to his roommate. He moved here to start over and never get close to anyone, and yet because of some stupid fuck up, Luke knew his secret, and the predator had never been more embarrassed. After finally getting back onto a normal trail and into Rowan’s car, then finally home, Rowan was okay to accept that this would never be brought up again, and he told Luke to forget about the whole thing. 

It might have been a mistake to do so. Rowan found himself thinking about grabbing his roommate and swallowing him down again. Every time they made eye contact, every time Rowan could even SMELL his roommates sweet scent, he found himself wanting to shove him into his mouth. His stomach growled again as he continued to think about it, and the predator even began salivating. His grip tightened, and Rowan rolled over to his side and curled into a ball. The hunger was unbearable. 

To eat Luke again. His perfectly freckled face. The size-shifter’s sweet flavor and smell. The way that the man filled his stomach up and had such a nice weight in his belly… The fact that he could easily make out the figure of Luke inside of him. The after taste of Luke’s flavor that remained on his tongue even after the final swallow. Feeling his prey shift, settle, and fill him up from the inside. 

If he was being honest with himself, Luke was the best meal he’d ever had. 

And now here he was, unable to sleep, and obsessing over the idea of eating his roommate again.

This was so fucking stupid. Nobody was supposed to know about this. He hated the fact that he was a predator. Luke must think he’s some sort of freak. If he was in Luke’s shoes, he would think he was a monster. 

If only he could have Luke inside of him again. If only he could feel the sensation of him sliding down his throat and settling in his stomach. Rowan’s hand loosened, and he instead rests his hand on top of his stomach. God, he was so hungry. The best he could do was to just not think about it. If he avoided Luke enough, then maybe this craving would go away? 

There was only one way to find out… 

Luke hadn’t slept. No, he was awake, and he had no idea how long he had been laying in bed for. When he rolled over and reached for his phone, the time read 12:42 p.m. 

Fuck… He really hadn’t noticed the passage of time with the pillow on his head. An attempt to emulate the tightness of Rowan’s stomach around his head. The size-shifter sat up, got out of bed, and walked out of the room towards the shared bathroom the two had. He spent time to quickly get himself cleaned up. Between brushing his teeth to brushing his hair, he was practically all set for the day. He tied his hair up in a bun, not necessarily feeling like dealing with it too much today.

Luke didn’t know if he was going to see Rowan at all today. They only saw each other occasionally; still the same as before. It frustrated him so much. He thought they were going somewhere. It seemed like Rowan opened up to him when he was inside his stomach, so why did he immediately lock himself back up when they got home? 

Luke, getting himself worked up about it, letting out a frustrated sigh as he rubbed his temples. Maybe he should just… Try harder? If he stood in front of Rowan’s door and demanded that he talk to him about what the hell this “condition” is, then maybe they could come to an understanding? Luke walked out into the hallway, closing the door behind him, then made his way over to the living room. 

When he arrived, he was met with the sight of Rowan spread across the couch. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but it was a shock to see him out here. 

What WAS he doing? Would it be wise to approach him?

Despite his better judgment, Luke made his way over to the couch, slowly looking over the sight he was seeing. Rowan was asleep, laying on his back. His face flushed as he realized that Rowan’s shirt was lifted, exposing his middle. 

Oh, god.

( imagine what it must’ve looked like from the outside when he had eaten you? )

Luke’s face fell a deep red. He couldn’t stop staring at his middle as he got even closer to the sofa and the man laying on it. His eyes were practically glued to his skin as he imagined what it must have looked like when Luke had been swallowed down. His mind trailed back to the cramped space inside his stomach. The warmth surrounding him. The groans Rowan’s stomach made as it had him trapped inside comfortably. 

Good lord.

Luke walked around to the front of the couch, and he kept his eyes glued to the sleeping man. He wished he could talk to him, but now, he got the chance to admire the man. It wasn’t a bad thing at all. Now, he could take in his features. The scars on his face were clearer now more than ever. He had to wonder, how did Rowan get them? 

Luke crouched down to sit on the floor in front of the couch. He let out a soft sigh, green eyes shifting from Rowan’s face to his stomach. He switched between his mouth and his stomach on occasion, thinking about being inside of his mouth, then his throat, then his stomach. 

Rowan was a predator. He needed to eat people. Luke was aware that people like this existed. Now, after experiencing it himself, Luke wished it could happen again.

After staring at Rowan’s bare skin for a few more minutes, Luke came to a decision. With a deep breath, he decides to shrink himself down. They had a moment of intimacy in the past. Luke could do anything to have it back. 

Once small, Luke adjusted himself and took a deep breath. He began to climb up the side of the couch, digging his fingers into the seams of the fabric. Once at the top, Luke looked back over to Rowan’s face. He was still asleep. Good.

The little man silently made his way over to Rowan’s middle and placed his hands against his skin. He looked back over to the larger man’s face to see if he’d woken up or stirred. He saw no reaction. The man had to let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding in. Looking back to Rowan’s middle, then to his face, Luke shifts slightly to pull himself on top of the man. He had to crawl over to the center of his stomach slowly to make sure that Rowan wouldn’t feel it and wake up. If he did, Luke would be in for a world of embarrassment. 

His skin was soft even now, and it was hard to think that during their hike, it stretched out to fit his full body. Rowan said that he was almost able to make out the position that Luke was curled up in. He said that he could tell where his head was. He really, desperately wanted to know what it looked like from the outside. He had no idea if Rowan would ever indulge him. It was hard to figure out a way to even think about bringing up the idea of being eaten again without setting the predator off. He didn’t want to make him angry.

Now that he was in the center of the man’s middle, the tiny man crossed his legs and watched Rowan’s sleeping face again. Luke had always found Rowan very handsome. They never had a close moment together that wasn’t the hike. It was a shame. Luke’s crush on his roommate led to him wanting to try and get closer and closer with him, but the grumpy man refused to let Luke even try and start a conversation. It was so unfair. 

With a small breath, Luke rolls his shoulders and leans forward, letting himself lay down on his own stomach against the larger man’s skin. He turns his head, placing his ear against the other’s belly. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Could he hear Rowan’s stomach from the outside? It was loud enough from the inside, but he didn’t know what it would sound like from the outside. 

Like this, laying against Rowan’s skin, he found himself finally relaxing. He found himself practically melting into the cushion of Rowan’s belly. His once tense shoulders finally loosened, and he just focused on listening. It didn’t take long for him to hear a quiet, low groan from the predator’s middle. It was quite a shock, and his eyes shot wide open. His face shifted red, and the size-shifter looked up to Rowan’s sleeping face. He was still asleep, and he had to wonder what caused him to want to sleep out here in the first place. Was it because Luke was locked in his room all day that he came out here? 

After a moment of watching Rowan’s face, Luke finally settled back down and placed his ear flat against the man’s exposed skin once more. Since he could hear his stomach, maybe he could lay here and pretend he was inside… That would be nice.

Another sound, but this time it was loud, long, and sounded almost hollow. MUCH different than when Luke was inside. It almost sounded like Rowan’s stomach was calling for him… That it desperately wanted him inside of it. It sent a chill down Luke’s back, and he couldn’t help but continue to listen intently. This… This was nice. Finally, Luke let himself close his eyes and felt himself doze off.

Rowan stirred lightly in his sleep, and his nose began to twitch as he smelled the air around him. A familiar scent filled his nostrils, and he knew that smell anywhere. It was what he’d been craving for the past week. It overwhelmed his senses as he focused more on it. He slowly opened his eyes, realizing that there was a soft, subtle weight against his middle. When he lifted his head to look down, green eyes focused on the figure. It was Luke, curled up against his center. Against his stomach…

Luke was tiny against him. How tall was he like this? He knew Luke was a shifter, but they hadn’t had time together for him to really see it. 

His mouth began to water. Luke was so close. The weight of him laying on top of him made Rowan want to swallow him down to feel his weight INSIDE of him. If he ate him, the craving would end… If he ate him, he could keep him locked away… If he ate him, his Luke, everything would be okay.

The predator couldn’t help but drool. His meal had presented itself to him, and god he was so fucking hungry. His stomach lets out a long, aggressive groan. It felt like it could’ve echoed throughout the living room. 

( Just eat, please God, you’re so hungry. He’s right here, just grab him. )

Absolutely ravenous.

Now fully awake, Rowan’s instincts take over. He needed to eat, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. No more hiding, no more starving himself. He needed this. He NEEDED this. Luke was a free meal, who was Rowan to deny a free meal? 

Sitting up, the predator reaches a hand to grab the man who was seemingly sleeping on his middle. His grip was tight, and the only thing on his mind was eating his roommate. He needed this so badly. It would be fine, Luke would be okay. It was only going to be for a while…

( Or maybe you should keep him inside your stomach, that would help with the craving. He should stay there, don’t you think? )

Yes, he should, shouldn’t he…?

The sleepy Luke in his grip looked around, then up to Rowan. His face was red and picked, and though one hand was stuck in his grip, the other rested on the top of the predator’s hand.

“Shoot, I’m… I—I’m sorry, Rowan! Don’t… Don’t get mad at me, okay? I was just… I saw you sleeping out here, and then I couldn’t…” Luke hiccuped. He looked like he was about to cry out of embarrassment. His tiny hand gripped tightly onto Rowan’s larger hand. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just wanted to…”

Luke’s voice trailed off. He realized how he was about to embarrass himself even further. He didn’t know if he should mention that he wanted to be eaten again. 

Rowan’s grip tightened, causing Luke to squeak.

“Rowan, stop that hurts, I said I’m sorry! P-put me down, okay?” Luke’s voice was desperate. 

Rowan was scaring him a bit. It was then when he realized that Rowan was drooling, and his teeth started to show a bit. They were sharp… Was he hungry? He almost looked how he did during the hike, but this time, he wasn’t entirely there. 

The only thing on Rowan’s mind was how hungry he was, and how perfect Luke looked. He growled lightly, his free hand raising to wipe his mouth.

“Luke, you know, you… have a very nice smell. It’s so nice, it’s delicious.” He began, bringing the shrunken man closer to his face. By this point, it was obvious Rowan wasn’t himself. “I need to eat you so badly, I’m so hungry. You had such a nice flavor before. I need to eat you, I need to eat you…”

Luke’s face was completely red as he was pulled closer to his roommate’s face. As he spoke, he got a clear view of his teeth, and it was shocking, to say the least. He was so close to Rowan’s mouth, and this time, he wasn’t the same size as him. He was tiny and vulnerable in Rowan’s grip, and the predator was talking so desperately. 

Earlier today, he thought about how much he wished he could get eaten again, and now here he was, in the man’s grip with his breath on top of him, and he was completely frozen in fear. His mind was practically blank by this point. 

Rowan’s grip on Luke loosened, and his other hand picks him up from his hand by the shirt. His fingers pinched Luke’s shirt from the back and lifted him off of his hand. The tiny’s eyes widened, and he began to squirm and thrash around. His legs kicked the air, and he threw his arms and hands against the two giant fingers holding onto him.

“Rowan, you’re scaring me, let me GO!” The shifter yelled out. “What’s gotten into you? What is this?!”

The predator stared at Luke as he lifted him up, closer to his face. With his scent even closer to his face now, Rowan’s lips parted into a sharp, toothy, hungry smile. He continued to drool. His hunger would be sated soon, he was going to be fine. Luke was going to make a fine meal, he fit so perfectly inside of him in the past. The idea of eating him again psyched the predator up even more. 

He couldn’t hear Luke’s words anymore. The only thing he could hear was his growling stomach and his own soft, hungry growls. He lifted Luke higher into the air, a smile remaining on his face. Rowan looked right up to Luke as he hung from his shirt. The predator opened his mouth wide, parting his teeth and holding his tongue out. 

The two make eye contact with one another. Time stopped for Luke one more time. He had a straight view of Rowan’s mouth. Rowan had nothing but a cloudy, hungry look in his eyes. A gaze that saw nothing but food. Luke’s heart sank to his stomach, and even though he was looking at the exact same thing he couldn’t get out of his head just hours before, why did this feel so different? 

Then, just then, Rowan’s fingers let go of the tiny’s shirt. Luke didn’t have time to process—he was falling, and Rowan’s mouth was getting closer. And closer. And closer. 

Then he was staring at the back of the predator’s throat.

The anticipation of expecting the shifter’s flavor hitting his tongue was rewarding. Luke landed in his mouth, and his lips wrapped around him upon feeling the impact. His upper body was stuffed into his mouth, leaving his legs to flail and kick his face. His teeth didn’t bite down on the smaller man’s body, instead avoiding him, but his lips wrapped around his torso as his tongue explored the tiny’s body. 

His flavor was exactly how he remembered it. Not only was his prey’s natural scent sweet, but his flavor? It was heaven. If he wasn’t so hungry, he would’ve loved to savor this moment. 

Luke punched around inside the predator’s mouth. He hit his tongue, trying his best to avoid his teeth. They were so sharp, one wrong move and he’d get cut. Rowan had avoided scratching Rowan with his teeth during the hike, but now? He wasn’t sure. 

“Don’t hurt me, don’t fucking hurt me, you idiot!” Luke yelled out without thought, adrenaline forcing itself through his veins. 

Luke’s legs flailed and kicked as hard as they could against Rowan’s chin in an attempt to push himself out. Despite this, Rowan’s lips were very tightly wrapped around his body. Rowan’s mouth began to vibrate, and a soft, purring sound surrounded the shrunken man. 

Rowan smiled, parted his lips, then began to push Luke further into his mouth with his finger as he rolled his head back. Luke’s head was just in front of the entrance to the predator’s throat, and below it looked like pure darkness. It obviously was much larger now that he was small, but the view was terrifying. Everything fell still. 

Rowan’s purrs stopped. Taking a deep breath through his nose, the man excitedly but desperately swallowed hard. 

Rowan pulled his fingers away as the tiny slipped further into his mouth, and he felt his upper body enter his throat. He began to purr at the sensation of his meal slipping into his gullet. Now that his prey was starting to go down, he didn’t want to stop. So the predator gave into his instincts, letting his body take over. He swallowed once more, pulling the rest of the tiny’s exposed body into his mouth. Rowan’s eyes closed and his purrs crescendo as more of Luke entered him. His lips curled into a smile behind Luke’s feet, saliva still dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Luke was so fucking delicious, why didn’t the predator commit to this sooner? Why did he take so long to sate his hunger? Craving him and refusing to indulge was way more painful than actually eating him.

Luke should be a visible lump in his throat right now, right? Out of pure curiosity, Rowan lifted his hand to press it against his neck. Though his throat vibrated with purrs, he could feel Luke thrashing inside the muscle that trapped him. Against his finger even more so. His gullet naturally tried to pull his food down, and he could feel the man slide down against his finger ever so slightly. However, some of his prey still remained in his mouth, and he wanted to savor the final swallow. 

He wanted to remember what it would feel like. 

He pressed his finger firmly against the Luke-shaped lump in his throat, and though he could hear muffled yells, he didn’t care. His mind and stomach were screaming at him to finish the job. So Rowan gives in, swallowing hard and loud. He felt Luke against his finger and inside his throat. The sensation of eating him felt out of this world. He was enjoying this, and God did it feel good to let himself indulge. Why did he feel so awful about being a predator?

He can’t remember why.

Another swallow, this time quick and sharp. He just wanted the tiny down and inside his stomach. He was so hungry. Just settle inside, please, please, please. His stomach screamed with another loud, hungry growl as it waited in anticipation for its prey to enter it. 

( I need you inside my stomach, I need you locked away, I’m so fucking hungry, you’re all I can think about. )

There was a tightness in his chest as Luke slipped past his collarbone, and all the predator could do was take a deep breath and place his hand flat against the pressure. He let out a huff, instinctually swallowing to trick himself into feeling his food slide down faster. His hand slid down to his middle, anticipating the sensation of Luke slipping inside his stomach and filling him up. 

His weight was so close inside him, and it was all he could think about. His roommate, his Luke, his meal, his prey. 

The moment was obvious. It was warm. It was fast and it was filling. He felt his middle grow heavier as Luke’s head entered, soon following with the rest of his body. His stomach expanded underneath his hand, distending his stomach and making it somewhat round. Of course, he wasn’t at all as big as the first time he ate his roommate, but the curve of his stomach told him all he needed to know.

Rowan let out a deep, satisfied sigh of relief as all of Luke finally entered him. He pulled his head down, taking his hand off of his stomach, and admiring the bump that his roommate created. His green eyes were foggy as he stared at his exposed middle. 

Most importantly, Luke’s taste remained on his tongue. 

***

Being pushed deeper inside of Rowan’s mouth then aggressively swallowed completely winded the shifter. His arms and head are completely wrapped by the predator’s flesh as he was pulled down into the gullet of this… beast. This wasn’t Rowan. It couldn’t be. What had gotten into him, why was he not like himself? Luke shut his eyes as he thrashed around. Despite how tight his throat was, Luke tried his damn hardest to get the predator to snap out of this. This roughness was uncharacteristic. At least last time, Rowan tried to be gentle.

“Rowan, stop, I—I don’t want to be eaten like this, please, STOP!!” The shifter yelled out, squirming and attempting DESPERATELY to pull himself out. Of course, the throat had a tight grip on him. It was crushing. Suffocating, even. Tears began to swell up in Luke’s eyes, and he continued to keep his eyes shut as another audible swallow pulled him further into the predator’s body. 

Something pressed against him from the outside, though he struggled to react properly. He couldn’t move at all, his limbs being pressed and held still. Luke didn’t want to open his eyes. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to see anything anyway. All he could do was attempt to get Rowan’s attention, but it was obvious by this point that he wasn’t paying attention. 

( You got what you wanted, didn’t you? )

Another, quicker swallow sent him further down and squished him. The tight space was almost unbearable with how hard Rowan was trying to get him down. His predator had finally sent him sliding down the rest of the way, leaving Luke to be gently massaged and pulled further down, down, down…

A familiar sound grew closer and closer as he fell further down. Rowan’s heartbeat. Even the sound of his lungs and the gentle purr that surrounded him. With the swallowing over, Luke remembered what it was like before. Rowan’s heartbeat was calming and surrounded him. It gave him something to focus on. It relaxed him. Even now, it relaxed his body and caused him to loosen up. 

That’s right, Luke was safe. 

Luke finally opened his eyes back up, seeing nothing but darkness. That was okay. He took a deep breath, calming himself and letting himself relax. Finally, his hands felt the entrance of something, and the esophagus pushed him through, guiding the rest of his body inside the chamber. Warm air hit his face, and though it was spacious at first, the more Luke was pushed inside, the less room there was. He was forced and pushed into the organ, and it squished him from all sides. It wasn’t as bad as the tube that sent him down here, but it expanded with him. Finally, the entirety of his body was deposited inside the chamber. Rowan’s stomach. 

He could hear a deep breath from above. Rowan sounded so satisfied. His heartbeat began to slow, and Luke was greeted by another loud gurgle that filled his ears.

He couldn’t move much, but the position he sat in was uncomfortable. He pressed his hands into the flesh underneath him, attempting to roll upright. Gravity was not in his favor currently, and if he remained in this position any longer, he might get a headache. Despite how hard it was to move in his resting place, Luke used his strength to flip himself, which was quickly followed by a gasp from above. Luke pushed himself the rest of the way up, finally managing to make a complete roll. He was quickly forced back down into place as his turn finished, and he settled into the roll of the stomach behind him. 

Rowan’s purrs grew louder. Luke felt a pressure from the outside pressing down on him. 

Rowan could feel and see Luke move from inside of him. His stomach fluttered. It felt so warm and nice, feeling the tiny shift around and settling inside him. He rubbed his round middle, letting out another satisfied sigh. 

“Luke, you’re… so perfect, you know?” The predator begins, wiping the remaining drool off of his mouth with his free hand. He turns to his side, laying down on the couch and pulling his legs closer to himself. His focus was his stomach and the prey inside of it. “You’re so delicious, and you fit so perfectly inside of me.” 

Luke was silent. He wasn’t moving anymore, but he could feel him sink down. 

“God, I could swallow you down a million times, and it would be so satisfying each time.” The man’s voice is quiet, and he continues massaging his stomach. He was so full, he was so satisfied. Luke, his craving, his meal, was safely inside him, filling him up. “I love it, you know… I love feeling you move inside, I love the feeling of you going down. Your flavor is sweet, it makes me think of cherries.”

Inside, Luke’s eyes were heavy. His face was red. Rowan’s words and compliments relaxed his body, on top of the steady purring. His heartbeat and breathing rhythmically surrounded him. This was what Luke couldn’t stop thinking about. He may have been held in place by Rowan’s stomach, but it… was like an embrace. Rowan was hugging him from all sides, wasn’t he? 

A tiny hand shifted and began to rub against the flesh underneath it. Luke took a deep breath, letting his eyes close.

“Rowan, I… I really love you.” The tiny whispered, realizing just how tired he was. He finally could let himself fall asleep. Surrounded by the sounds that echoed throughout his brain only hours before, Luke drifted to sleep.

Rowan continued to rub his stomach, purring as he spoke.

“My prey, my perfect prey. I think you should stay… I think I should… keep you inside there. Do you know how wonderful you feel in there? I was so hungry, craving you. It hurt. But now I have you, and I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to keep you locked away.” Rowan mumbled, beginning to lull himself to sleep. 

He was still so tired. Now, he was full and happy, and so tired. He finally managed to sleep earlier before being woken up, but now? All he could do was lay here and fall asleep. He couldn’t help it. 

“I can’t believe how delicious you are…” Rowan mumbled one last time before he dozed off.

[hoseoksluna]

BANANA MILK | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader

genre: smut, a tiny bit of angst

word count: 5.6k

summary: when a porn video accidentally plays on his tv, jungkook makes sure you watch.

playlist: banana milk / pinterest board: wine

warnings: forced and consensual porn watching, crotch grinding, dom/sub dynamics, plenty of desperation, praise and degradation, reader has daddy issues (like the writer,) oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, biting, pet names and a particular title used, handjob, plushie used during intercourse, spanking, raw sex, squirting, size kink, multiple orgasms, cockwarming

note: this can be read as a standalone, however it's a part two of my fic 'wine'. you guys asked for it and i delivered. <3 i wrote this entire fucking thing in a trace and on my phone, and i still don't understand how i managed to do that. even though i struggled in the beginning, i enjoyed writing this as soon as i got into it. there will be a part three as well—from jungkook's pov. so as you read, look forward to it next sunday. let me know what you think in the comments, don't be shy! mwah ᡣ𐭩

Following the shapes of the sunlight on the parquet floors, your small feet are warm. The clicking of fingers on a sleek keyboard takes you, momentarily, into a hazy frame of mind. You feel as though you’re in a novel yourself, and the sound is a mere announcement that your steps, calculated in depth—thought through, plotted, and cared for—are counted by the man a few feet away from you, the writer, the long lost poet. Counted patiently throughout the rising action until they reach, at last, the climax.  The notion unfolds within you, unfurls little by little in a way that you like, for it makes you feel exceptionally alive and poetic. It casts a languorous smile upon your shimmery face. Perhaps it’s due to the double meaning because you’re here for a reason. Or perhaps you owe that smile to the easy joy blooming in your chest, one that was sown hardly an hour ago.

You were in a bookstore, skimming through a paperback that enveloped you in blue dreaminess. The language you had the honor to graze with the pad of your finger was flowery in a way that stirred something within you—something that is noticeably sprouting to life. The furniture of the room was dark and antique under the yellow dimmed light, very much like the one you have at home. It was so you, a true personification of your whole being that made it quite difficult to leave, even though you had something to look forward to.

You were convinced it was your home.

A home that you came around to for the first time in your life—how strange.

You bought the book. It had to be yours, and you had to have a keepsake, a direct link to your hideaway. You set it by the wall next to your shoes and your purse with a pink photocard holder, pulling out a certain bottle of happiness that you brought along for your friend.

The sunlight strips take you straight to him, your feet—kissed by the sun—padding softly on the floor; the third step of the rising action. Jungkook sits slumped on his coffee brown couch with his laptop propped on his lap. His shoulders, clad in a denim sweatshirt, hunch in ever persistent concentration, a Word document opened and being swiftly filled with Hangul. Persistent enough that he doesn’t twist his head to greet you. He knows you’re there. Heard the sweet sing-song beep of his passcode being accepted, letting you in into his solitary life. Knows you didn’t forget it this time because he didn’t have to stand to his feet to open the door for you as he so often did in the past.

You wrap your arms around his neck from the back, tits squished against the nape from the low neckline you chose to wear for the day. It shreds his concentration to smithereens; you feel him inhale raggedly through his nose, fingers coming to a halt on the keyboard. You press your lips against his scarred cheek, not as plump as they usually are because they are still pulled taut into a smile, and whisper, “hi, Ggukie.”

He turns his head to face you from the side.

“Hi,” he breathes. There are peachy specks of glitter scattered all over your eyelids and you watch him study them, round eyes flicking between each one of them as if he can’t get enough of them—as if there are more for him to greet the more he looks.

And he’s right. There are.

His tender mien causes your heart to clench, overflow with a continual stream of endearment for him. You notice the mark of your guileless kiss on the apple of his cheek, the lip gloss pink and glimmering. Decide to leave it there. Decide it suits him well.

“Close your eyes,” he says, and you do.

He drifts the pad of his thumb along that delicate skin. Not to disturb the artwork, no. But to acquaint himself further with it. It’s been a long time since you wore glitter. It’s been equally as long since you were this happy—he senses it, the little iridescent stars tell him somehow. There’s so much of it that when he lifts the digit, the eye makeup stays intact, as if he hadn’t touched it at all. Jungkook flicks his eyes to the craftwork of his stained fingertip, the glitter, the stars nuzzling homely within the lines. Smiles as he mumbles, “pretty.”

You kiss him airily as a thank you. No hands, not anything. Just your lips puckering from the little distance between the pair of you. You retrieve the bottle of happiness from your back pocket and hold it against his hard chest.

Confusingly, with lips rounded, Jungkook looks down and gasps.

Banana milk.

“Come here.”

He hauls you down onto his lap like you weigh nothing, his laptop pushed away to the cold side of the couch. You squeal, pulling your hair as you lay against them and try to find a better position, discomfort painting your features in a way that makes Jungkook scrunch his nose adorably. He lifts your neck and gathers your hair, smoothing it down on the leather. You look up at him. The stars have migrated to your glossy eyes.

“Where’s yours?” he asks, hand placed on the crown of your head, the other clutching the chunky bottle protectively like a child.

“I already drank mine.”

Jungkook pierces the paper lid with the slim straw and takes a sip. Lowers it until it pokes you in the line of your lips. Nods at you, encouraging you to drink.

Your heart clenches again, and the thoughtful gesture makes it swell. It suddenly feels like your chest is very tight, like there’s no space for your organs. You massage the feeling away, wrapping your lips around the plastic, taking a few sips. No hands, not anything.

“You’re a sweet boy,” you whisper, a dollop of the creamy liquid adorning the oily pinkness of your lips.

A bright blush creeps along his cheeks, settling along the bridge of his nose as it ever so often does. Gazes down at you, then at your lips. Scrunches his nose again as he shakes his head, bending to peck you delicately, tongue swiping across your bottom lip, cleaning you up. His habit at this point.

“I’m a man.”

Your face grows hot. The imprint of your lip gloss stained his mouth and it worsens your state, deepens your dreaminess. You’re leaving small parts of your being as marks on him. You find that beautiful, in all its simplicity.

“Sweet and pretty,” you add in a hushed whisper, more to yourself than him.

Twinkles, akin to your glitter, flood his eyes and they deepen in thought. He doesn’t say anything for a moment and when he drifts the palm of his hand down your throat, curling around your collarbones, you realize he’s having flashbacks. 

Wine. Neck. Tongue.

The cause and effect on your panties in mere seconds. 

Your helplessness. The way you apologized for coming because you weren’t allowed. 

Jungkook smirks and so do you. Lets his palm roam down to your tits, discovers only with the lift of his finger that you’re wearing a lacy blue bralette under your top. 

“So easy to pull to the side,” he comments, more to himself than you. Doesn’t look at you when he begins to fondle them, transfixed by their fullness. 

“That was my—”

“How was your day?” he cuts in, a breathy concoction of a hiss and a moan escaping his mouth once he feels your nipples stiffen under his hand. Index and thumb come and squeeze at that nub, coaxing a hum out of you. 

Your brain degrades slowly but surely, metamorphosing into mush. You struggle with your memory, abruptly unable to remember where you were and what you did before you were half spread across his lap.

“Good,” you try. “Fantastic, actually.” 

Jungkook smiles. Pinches your nipple again, fingers pressing flat and moving up and down. You moan out for him, writhing in a newly, softly burning desire.

“Really?” 

“Yeah, went to the bookstore.” 

Did you? 

“Bought anything?” 

His hand drifts back to your neck, never losing skin-to-skin contact, wraps around the column, then goes back down to your tit. This time, to your neglected one. Gives it the same attention. 

You don’t remember if you bought anything.

Zoning out, you focus on the pleasure, fluttering your eyes closed. Figure this is just a meaningless talk that doesn’t require truthful answers or any for that matter. You widen your legs, calling out for his touch there. This is what you came here for. He doesn’t need to know about the itty-bitty parts of your soul.

Jungkook grabs your arm and pulls you up, guiding you to straddle him. You poke the banana milk, propped against the backrest, with your knee. Despite your now lustful haze, you’re careful not to knock it over. 

A billow of the whole night lines his eyelashes, arousal blanketing his irises. You run your hand through his hair—can’t help yourself, you’re just obeying your body’s intimate wishes—and tip his head back, his soft strands sifting through your fingers. You draw near to his slightly parted mouth as if to kiss him, but you’re here just to tease him, to make him want more just like he did to you, hovering your lips above his. His slowly quickening inhales add much to your wooziness and you go to hide in the crook of his neck, but he stops you dead in your tracks when he says, “you came here to get fucked, didn’t you?” 

Your laughter is but a breath. “How did you know?”

You kiss him there, incorporating your tongue, sucking the sensitive skin for a mere beat of time. And just like him, you discover why he likes kissing your neck as much as he does.

A film of goosebumps shrouds the small portion of the exposed skin of his chest that you’re allowed to see. Jungkook moans lowly, gripping your ass and pulling you closer to his semi-hard crotch, sinking lower into the cushion. Eager hands hook under the hem of your top and fling it out of you, latching onto the back of your neck and drawing you to his face. 

He doesn’t kiss you.

He begins to talk.

“I waited for you all fucking day,” he murmurs against your lips, sucking in a breath of air as if there wasn’t enough in his lungs, as if voicing out his desire exerted his energy. 

“All I could think about were those fucking tits,” he confesses. “Those hips of yours, so small in my hands. That pussy, fuck. I wanna eat it,” he groans, furrowing his eyebrows. “God, I wanna eat it.” 

You nod to each and every word of his, grinding your pelvis against his, mewling into his mouth. 

“You understand what I’m saying to you, don’t you?”

You nod again, your body begging you to be allowed to arch your back, but the grip Jungkook has on your neck prevents it from happening. The fire of desire burns bright, made bigger and blue by his spluttering sparks.

“‘Course you do, you’re my good little girl, aren’t you? Smart and educated,” he praises and your walls clench. “Let me eat your little pussy.” 

“Please,” is all you manage to utter before he holds you steady by the waist and lays you down on the couch. 

Your shoulder blade hits the remote control and a sudden echo of a girl’s moan booms through the room. Both of your heads swing to the TV to see a girl humping her teddy bear, barren down to her full femininity except for her panties. She plays with her nipples, pulling on them while flicking her hair back, hips rapidly moving back and forth on the nose of her big fluffy friend. Mesmerized and completely sobered up from your drunkenness, your clit gains a heartbeat, your teeth sinking into the bottom of your lip.

Jungkook hastily rummages around you to find the remote. You stop him. 

“Leave it on.”

He blinks at you, mouth agape. You smile at him, thumb brushing along his knuckles as you take the remote from him and place it on the coffee table. The gesture smooths down the wrinkle between his brows. His blush deepens, the color of roses stunning you. 

Undoing your jeans, he pulls down your zipper. “You want me to eat you out while you watch porn?”

You nod. “Yes, sir.” 

Jungkook sighs, sagging your pants down to the middle of your thighs. “Don’t call me sir or I’ll fuck you in the ass right here, right now.”

“Hurry, she’s almost done.” 

He spanks you harshly and you squirm, quickly reminded of his need to be in control, but he listens to your need. Rewinds the video back. Slaps the remote back down onto the wood of the coffee table, which makes you burst into giggles and Jungkook smirks, folding you in half, dragging your panties to your jeans pooling above your knees. The center sticks to your core, causing him to growl, hand coming to wipe at the corners. The girl hops on the teddy bear. Moans fill your ears. 

He kisses your clit. Pinches the back of his sweatshirt and hurls it at your head, obscuring your view. You huff in frustration, throwing it back at him, but he catches it. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“You should focus.”

“You going all in for me?” you ask, speaking of his nakedness. 

Clothes come off on the verge of his climax, never before it; it’s so unlikely of him to discard himself so quickly. He usually keeps at least one item of clothing on, too hasty—too hungry to bother, until he can’t take the heat anymore.

“For you always.”

He dives into your pussy, tongue licking against your folds, nose pressed against your mound, inhaling you. Going up and down, he drinks you. Moans at the taste, eyes lidded and drunk as he stares at you through the little opening of your barely parted legs. You wish to spread them wider, the pleasure forces you to, but you can’t—the tight fabric won’t grant you the satisfaction. 

“Take it off of me,” you whine.

He comes up for air. “No.”

You whine louder, fingers grasping at the waistband. Jungkook grabs your hands and pins them down to the cushion, thumbs resting in the middle of your palms. He doesn’t let a drop of you go to waste, sheathes his tongue into your warmth as he fucks you, nose rubbing against your engorged clit. You tip your head back, lose a sight of him for a moment, digits naturally wrapping around his thumbs like a baby. A litany of curse words, broken by your moans that sync to the girl’s sounds of pleasure, fall from your mouth. You don’t even look at her, too busy—too distracted by the man below you, by the way his open mouth works against you, his dimples hollowing into straight lines, so akin to the sunlight strips that led you to him, as he flicks his tongue against your clit. 

You brush your fingers through his hair again, hold it at the roots through the small hole between your thighs. It provokes him enough that he looks up at you and finds you staring back at him. He growls against your cunt, a warning, the vibrations sending you back. Your eyes roll into your head and your hips follow, grinding into his glistening face. 

Jungkook hums. Sticks around to see if you’re watching the porn, slowing down the pace of his flicks. 

You’re not. 

Coming down from that wave, your eyes set back down on him. 

Jungkook peels his mouth off of you. Bends over you and grips your neck, pushing you down. The other hand spreads your slick all over your cunt, gliding back and forth. No pressure, not anything. Hearing your squelching noises, he mimics you. Also rolls his eyes back. Awakens the butterflies in your tummy. 

“Focus,” he hisses. 

You mewl. Ride his fingers to at least feel something, but you achieve nothing of the like. 

He spanks your pussy, another warning. 

You don’t listen. Can’t take your eyes off of him. Of the disheveled mess on top of his head, the sweat that pools at his hairline, the disarrange of his thick eyelashes from having his lids closed against your skin, the sheen of his nose, the wet puffiness of his lips, the kiss mark on his cheek. You take a deep breath. 

It’s impossible to focus on someone else other than him. Especially when he licks his lips, the tip of his tongue sailing around the arc of his lips—the arc of your character development. Swallows the dewiness he called out like teacher to pupil. 

You were a virgin when you met him. It was him who taught your body to get messy for him like this. His tongue that tasted your girlishness first. All your first times were with him and continue to be under his ever strict but safe supervision. 

Under his custody in a way. You do call him Daddy after all. 

“I missed your cuntie so much,” he husks, tightening his grip a tiny bit to emphasize the importance of his words. “But I can’t eat it if you don’t watch.” 

His index finger turns your head to the side and his other hand travels down to your wet heat. The girl clutches her friend’s fur in her fist and fucks him slowly. With each roll of her hips upwards, you can see the shine of her slick adorning her folds. Jungkook sinks two digits inside. Can barely fit them in due to the way you clench around him. You fight his hold against your cheek, needing to look at him. 

“Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” he whispers. “My horny little baby.” 

He keeps them there, at the beginning of your hole, pumping sluggishly. Doesn’t look at the girl. Didn’t do so ever since the video started playing. His eyes only drink in your reactions, the twist of your features, the little sounds and breaths that break out of your mouth, gracing his ears, making his cock hard. 

It disturbs something within you. Stirs it to life. Kindles it radiantly, adjoining it to the fire of your desire. You know what it is, but you can’t bring yourself to accept it. It’s a feigned reality, one of a novel. Not the one that could ever be applied to your life, burst at the seam, engulf the radius until it absorbs you. 

You’re not that lucky. You’re not lucky to have him in that way. 

You’re lucky enough to have him physically connected to you once a week. 

But emotionally? 

Tears prick your waterline. 

“I want your tongue on my clit,” you croak out, reckon it’s better that you listen to him, watch the girl make herself come, follow her footsteps and go home. 

Distance is safe. Distance heals everything, particularly emotional attachments. 

Jungkook ceases his slow movement. Lowers your legs down so they repose across his thighs. Strokes the tremble of your muscles, removing your jeans and your underwear. Keeps that dangly fabric hanging off of the edge of the coffee table. Caresses your face as he says, “Daddy wants that, too. So bad. But you gotta be my good little girl and watch it. Then Daddy will play with your little clit.” 

“Okay.” 

He settles back into his position between your legs, enfolds your thighs around his shoulders. Placing a tiny kiss on your pussy lips, the soft fleshiness of your thigh steals his attention. He begins to plant big, wet kisses there. Alternates between nibbles and those kisses, mumbling something under his breath that you can’t make out. 

The girl’s furry friend is drenched in her wetness. You buckle your hips with need. 

“I want to hear your apology,” he orders, lips pressed against your skin. 

You look at him and mewl. 

“Eyes on the TV.” 

He bites you. 

You hiss in pain. “I’m sorry.” 

He kisses the pain he caused. “What for?” 

“For watching you,” you whisper, a lump forms in your throat and is softened by the look of endearment he gives you. Doesn’t reprimand you for keeping your eyes on him. 

He latches onto the voluptuous part between your hip and thigh, marks you there. “And why did you watch me?” 

You bite your lip to cage the words you really want to say behind your teeth, but some of them slip out. “Because you’re beautiful. Too distracting.” Because you look at me, and not at her. 

Jungkook hums. Kitten licks your clit to reward you, lips wrapping around the bundle to suck it. Makes a sound of satisfaction, eyes closing to drown in the feeling. Lets go with a pop. Does it again. Suck. Pop. Suck. Pop.

You moan. Near to the last step of your rising action. One more and you’ll reach your climax. You keep your eyes peeled on the girl, her screams guiding you to that sweet release. 

“My good little girl. Making me weak. Making me drunk,” he mutters against your pussy, blowing cool air against your dewiness; you shiver and he laughs softly. “Come for me, baby. Please.” 

He sucks your clit again, but manages the pressure. Makes sure it’s light, so you enjoy it as much as he does. 

“Keep watching it. You’re doing such a good job. Keep those pretty eyes on the TV.” 

A new texture rubbing against your pussy surprises you and a moany gasp escapes you. You look down to find his dear Hello Kitty plushie in his hand and the different, rough sensation tears the rope in your belly. 

“That’s it. Ride her. Fuck yeah. Make a mess on her for me. Good, good girl.”  

You gush out, your orgasm taking over your body. Trembling, squirming, you thrash your hands in search of something stable that would help you ground yourself. Jungkook doesn’t slow down his movement but he finds your hand, finds the other one too, and pins them above your head. Bends over you and watches you closely, watches those waves surging through your body until they still. 

He kisses you, then. 

“Such a good girl for me. Well done.” 

You struggle to catch your breath. 

And there’s no oxygen left in your lungs when Jungkook begins to rock his hips against his plushie, the button of her nose pressing deliciously against your sensitive bundle. Your moans come out in staccatos, dry and breathless. Little squeaks of pleasure that make him crazy. Eyebrows furrowed, stare dark and fixed. 

“Fuck, Jungkook. Oh, fuck.” 

He laughs and you expect to be degraded, having realized that both of you forgot, for the first time in months, to do so, but he rams into her and nudges his nose against yours. Dimples prominent, mouth stretched into a grin. A sight to die for. 

“I could come like this, baby. But I want to feel you. Need your little pussy around me. Might go crazy if I don’t fuck you,” he says hastily, chucking the plushie away. “They might lock me up.” 

You might have wanted to go home, but who are you to deny him when he’s this desperate for you. 

Butterflies swarm in your belly. And you laugh. 

“Fuck me, baby. Come on,” you say, the pet name on your tongue scorching your whole body. 

Jungkook hums, palms his hardness as the outline of his cock makes you salivate. While you reach for Hello Kitty to hug her because you need something solid to hold onto, he pulls out his heavy length out of his sweatpants. Wanting him naked, your fingers push down the material and you uncover that he’s not wearing any underwear.

You curse under your breath, your pussy drooling for you. 

His member slaps against his stomach and you hiss, your saliva collecting in your mouth at the sight. He grips himself, throws his head back. You focus on his red tip, on the evidence of his arousal agleam in the sudden shadows of the room. The video stopped playing; silence replaced it instead. You care very little for it, entranced by his manhood, by his defined abdomen, the hardness and roundness of his pecs and the small, singular mole right underneath. You find yourself longing to kiss it, swipe your tongue against it and you fulfill your body’s wishes.  

You get on your knees. Hello Kitty falls in the middle of them. Jungkook curiously watches what you’re doing and when you do what you longed to do, he moans softly. 

“Princess,” he sighs, moans again when you brush your fingertips against his nipple. “You make me feel so good.” 

“Yeah?” you question, looking up at him, fingers tweaking his nipple and he vocally shows you how much he likes that. 

His sounds of pleasure, the variety of pet names and praise makes you feel woozy all over again. Your pussy dampens the plush fabric, adding to the mess. 

“Feel how hard you made me,” he whispers, guides your hand to his length, wrapping your fingers around his girth; you show him, too, how much you like that. “Spit on it.” 

You don’t have to be told twice. 

Spreading your liquid love all over him, you grip him tight beneath the mushroom to coax that delicious hiss you love hearing. You begin to move your hand from there, sliding his foreskin up and down. His groans are a panoply of pure beauty that you wish to own forever. You wish you could freeze time right now. Deem this is as close to paradise as you could ever get. 

This is where you want to be, for all eternity. 

You lick over his nipple and Jungkook sobs. Sounds just like you when he plays with you and it makes you sob just the same. You hold it in, though, think this is a time reserved for him only. Concentrate on flicking the nub to make him feel good, squeezing his tip. He deserves it. 

“I’m gonna turn myself in,” Jungkook whines. “It’s your fault.” He kisses the top of your head. “You made me crazy.” 

You laugh, quickening the pace of your hand that soon slows down when he sultrily orders, “hump her for me.” 

“Fuck,” you let out, eyes wide and round as you look up at him. “You want me to ride her?” 

A rumble of agreement passes through his lips. “Make Daddy proud.” 

You withdraw but Jungkook clicks his tongue. 

“Keep your hand where it belongs.” 

Your jaw falls open. 

He guides you back where he wants you, meanwhile you rearrange the plushie and sit down on her nose, cringing at the cold wetness you left there. 

You rock your hips once. The dull pleasure numbs your senses, electrifies your body. Before you’re even aware of it, you hump her like your life depends on it. Your hair lifts and falls around you gracefully in spite of your pace, little strays sticking to your flushed face.

“Slow down, fuck,” Jungkook groans, placing his hands on your shoulders and wrist to stop you. “Slow, baby. Can you do that for me?” 

You listen, even though it’s evident you don’t like it. 

He chuckles. “Good job,” he praises. “Fix your face.” 

You smile up at him, cracking into a gentle laughter. Out of breath, out of your mind. 

“That’s it.” 

He kisses your forehead. Reaches behind him and grabs the banana milk. Points the straw at your lips. You gulp it down loudly. Jungkook fixes your hair in the meantime. 

Sitting down, he hauls you onto his lap. Your back presses against his chest, the tip of his shaft aiming at the middle of your belly. It scares you, how deep he can go and you turn your head to look at him with wide eyes.

He squeezes your tits, pulls the fabric to the side. Pinches both of your nipples at the same time before he kneads the flesh. Your roll your hips against his manhood, leaning your head back against his shoulder. 

“You’re just too small, aren’t you?” he whispers against your cheek. 

You meow a soft sound that confirms his words. 

“Won’t even fit in you. Need to stretch out you for me,” he says, hands traveling down your stomach. “Can you even take two fingers?”

There it is, the degradation. But it’s so tender that you can’t even believe your own ears. You mewl again, finding it so hot that he talks to you like this, knowing you took three of his fingers the last time he touched you. 

“I can,” you say and there’s allure to your words, your pussy grinding against him. 

He hums. Maneuvers you a little so his cock sits against your ass. Plays with your slick just to hear the filthy sound before he plunges two of his fingers inside of you. He curls them and is brutal as he pistons into you in fast jerks, the muscles in his biceps bulging. With his free hand, he makes sure you gaze at him and he nudges his nose with yours. His short breaths fan against your cupid’s bow and in return, you feed him your moans. He swallows each and every one, his pace never faltering, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Your stream of pleasure shoots out onto the coffee table and Jungkook would miss it if his reflexes didn’t act out for him. He groans, strumming his fingers against your clit to prolong your orgasm, lifting you to ram his hard length into you. 

You welcome him embarrassingly fast, smothering him until he’s fully sheathed inside you. Because he entered you mid climax, it triggers another one and you scream, thrash your body that he encages with his arms around you, one hand flying to your neck to keep you down. He presses his lips against your temple, lulls you with gentle sounds. Mutters apologetic words, words of encouragement, praise and reassurement. All while ramming his cock into you. 

You’re forgetting the day and time. Hell, you’re forgetting your own age and name. All you know is dick. 

His dick splitting you open as your head knocks back and forth. 

He squishes your cheeks, pressing a kiss there, and it brings you back. You open your eyes, blink a few times. Yelp as he fucks you deeply and holds. 

“You’re taking me so well,” Jungkook husks. “You always squirt for me, don’t you?” 

You nod, dumbly. He plunges his fingers into your mouth to gather your saliva and takes them down to your clit. He rubs it, and he rubs it in fast circles. His other hand finds the soiled plushie and he crams her into your arms. You cuddle her, needing the comfort. 

“If I had a vibrator, I’d keep it right here on your little clit the whole time and break you fucking apart.” 

You clench around him, signaling him how much you like the idea.

“I know you’d like that. The thought of it won’t let me sleep. Might have to get it for you after all.”

Your surroundings are foggy. Another surge of orgasm reaches for you to get you. Your whole body shakes. You hug the plushie tighter. 

You prop your feet on his muscular thighs and weakly, you snap your hips down on him, setting a steady pace that makes you see stars. 

Jungkook ceases your movement. Grabs your waist tightly. 

“Stop or I’ll come.” 

You fight against him, pushing down on him. He lets you. 

“You want Daddy to come for you?” 

“Yes, please, I’m so close,” you squeak. 

“Hold onto her then.”

He meets your thrust, groans at the impact, at the teamwork. Has a deathly grip on you and Hello Kitty that bruises you, stills you as he ruts into you, his balls slapping against your sensitive, abused femininity. You’re losing everything; you’re losing yourself in him, in his manhood, in his desire and pleasure. Submitting all that you are to him, willingly giving over all that you have left of your being. Knowing it will be safe, knowing you will be taken care of. 

And with that you come, and you come hard. You coax his orgasm, beckon it out with the one final clench of your pussy around him. You milk him dry, stars clouding your vision and the warmth of his hot spurts of cum filling you to the brim. Jungkook whines. 

He loses it completely. 

Babbling sets of incoherent words against your cheek, he kisses you there, drags his kisses down to your jaw and your neck, squeezing you and Hello Kitty in his arms as his cock stays sheathed inside of you. 

Two things you do make out when you come down. 

A string of pet names directed to you. A bunch of ‘baby’, ‘princess’, ‘little girl’, all held close by the prefix of ‘my’. Held as close as he holds you. 

And something else entirely.  

“I love being inside of you. Whether it’s with my fingers or my dick. I don’t care. I just love being inside of you. You feel like home.” 

He strokes your hair, over and over, from the side like that. From the crown of your head, past the curve, down the side of your neck. All while kissing your skin. Tiny little kisses that soothe you, lull you into tranquility, prove you utterly wrong. 

But you’re still delirious from your high. You don’t realize what he said. 

You don’t realize that your home isn’t within the walls of that bookstore but within the arms of the man that holds you. 

And you don’t realize that he feels the same way.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part three

[daisynik7]

Afternoon in Heaven

Word Count: ~800 words

cw: smut - vaginal sex (missionary position), breeding kink, pet names (sweetie, honey), explicit language – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You and your husband spend a relaxing afternoon together. 

Notes: I’m ovulating, so this is why I’m writing this LOL. Title inspired by the song Afternoon in Heaven by Magdalena Bay, listen to set the mood right. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thanks for reading! 

Sunday afternoon is your favorite time of the week. This is especially true ever since you’ve been married to your husband, Kento Nanami. It’s become a special tradition to nap during this window of time, with the sunlight streaming through the curtains, cuddled in each other’s arms, letting the worries of the upcoming work week dissolve even just for an hour or two. It’s been a while since you were granted a lazy Sunday, what with all the recent events you’ve had to attend. Birthday parties, family reunions, hanging out with friends. A weekend afternoon feels just like heaven when you need to relax and unwind. 

This is especially true when your husband is fucking you into your king-sized mattress, sending you into total, utter bliss.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. So beautiful when you take me like this,” he says, voice laden with lust. He has you spread apart, one leg propped on his shoulder, the other sprawled on the bed. He kneels between your thighs, pumping his cock in and out of your wet cunt. 

You reach down, fingers trembling towards your clit. He smirks. “You want to come already?”

You nod, biting your lip. 

“Let me watch you, then. Come on. Play with yourself while I’m deep inside you.” He thrusts his hips forward, staying pressed to your pussy, not moving, staring at you from above. “Go on, honey. Make yourself come.”

“Oh fuck, sweetie,” you moan, rubbing your needy clit while he has you stuffed full of his dick. “Oh fuck.” You orgasm, tightening around his thick cock buried inside you. He watches you touch yourself until your bud is too sensitive, and you let up. With a satisfied hum, he starts fucking you again, slowly. He turns his head to place a wet kiss on the inside of your knee, still resting on his shoulder. “You’re so beautiful, honey. My beautiful, perfect wife.”

“I love you, sweetie,” you breathe out, reaching for him, longing to feel his fingers entwined with yours.

“I love you too, honey,” he says, holding your hand. “You want my cum inside you? Want me to breed this pretty pussy?”

You giggle, squeezing him. “Yes.”

Ever since the two of you decided to try for a baby, Nanami has had the nastiest breeding kink. Today is no exception. He increases his pace, penetrating you deep, balls slapping noisily on wet skin with each brutal thrust.

“You’re going to make the perfect mother, you know that? Can’t wait till your pregnant. I’m going to spoil you rotten.”

“Yeah?” you ask lazily, placing his palm to your chest. He pinches gently at your nipples, causing you to whine in pleasure. “How will you spoil me?”

He grins, placing another smooch on your leg. “I’ll give you whatever you want. Foot rubs, massages, late night cravings. I’ll do whatever to make you happy.”

“I don’t need any of that. I’m already the happiest I can be because I’m with you.”

The smile on his face grows as he slides his hand down to your swollen bud, caressing it tenderly with his thumb. “You’re my everything,” he whispers, pausing his thrusts. He helps you lower your leg from his shoulder, your thighs still spread wide for him. He pulls out, leaning forward to be on top of you, guiding his cock back in easily. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him on the lips. 

“I want you like this,” he growls, his mouth grazing your ear. 

You coil your legs around his waist, bodies molded together seamlessly. He’s hitting your sweet spot, your puffy clit brushing against him ever so slightly, stimulating you into your second climax. His erratic breathing and rapid thrusts indicate that he’s close too. 

He faces you once more, slipping his tongue inside your mouth, greedy for your spit. “I’m going to come.”

“Give it to me, sweetie. Breed me. Get me pregnant.”

He kisses you sloppily, hips jerking as he pumps you full of his cum. When he’s done, he doesn’t pull out, relaxing his body against yours. “You think we did it this time?” he asks, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

“We’ll see,” you answer. You think about the date, trying to remember if you’re ovulating today. Too fucked out to process anything properly, you leave it to chance, enjoying the rest of the day pleasantly spent.

Two weeks later, on another lazy Sunday afternoon, you walk out of the bathroom and into the kitchen to show your husband two positive pregnancy tests. He picks you up and swings you around the room, ecstatic. 

[annes-andromeda]

Wish Rewrite

I have this tendency for rewriting material I either don’t like or think had wasted potential. At the time of writing this, Wish hasn’t come out in theaters but I did pirate it as there was an early screening. I also read the junior novelization and bought the concept art book. Needless to say, I was disappointed by what I read/saw.

I feel like Wish could’ve been better. Granted, the story and characters are not terrible, but they certainly leave much to be desired. This is literally Disney’s 100th anniversary, yet it doesn’t really feel like it. Not only that, but the movie felt incredibly rushed. Yeah I know that most Disney movies try have a run time of 90-100+ minutes, but I think a few more minutes could’ve been added to this film.

So, I decided to indulge myself and outline some changes that I think could’ve made the story slightly better. These ideas are by no means perfect, and in the end, this is all in good fun.

Spoilers ahead btw

The main story of Wish is essentially that Asha wants to get a job as Magnifico’s apprentice so that her grandfather’s wish is granted. But Asha finds out about the King’s true nature, and after questioning him, doesn’t get the job, and Magnifico vows to never grant Sabino or Sakina’s wishes.

Asha makes a wish on a star, and the star comes down, Magnifico tries to hunt down the two of them, he uses an evil spell book to create a staff, Magnifico destroys some wishes, Asha gets help from her friends, they sing a song to defeat Magnifico (I ‘wish’ i was joking), Star gives Asha a magic wand, and all is well.

Oh, and Amaya is… there.

It’s nothing complex, pretty cut and dry. And I don’t have a problem with a simple story! But this feels like it’s… missing something.

Firstly, I’d change the title. Disney already has a boat called Wish, and not every movie needs to be one word like Tangled, Frozen, and Brave (amongst others), so the story could be renamed “Asha and the Wishing Star” or “Asha and the Kingdom of Wishes”. Idk, something that evokes a classic fairytale book feel (or that does confuse people with a boat).

((Side note #1: I honestly enjoy that the story started off with a book, as a nod to classic disney movies, especially Snow White. That was cute))

Secondly, and I know I sound like a broken record at this point…

AMAYA👏🏼SHOULDVE👏🏼BEEN👏🏼A👏🏼VILLAIN👏🏼ALONGSIDE👏🏼HER👏🏼HUSBAND👏🏼

The original plan, according to the concept art book, was to have Magnifico and Amaya to be a villain couple who were partners in crime and owned a black sphinx cat named Charo. However for… reasons, the creators took the ‘safe’ route and made Amaya the good one out of the two.

But the problem is, by erasing Amaya’s evilness, the creators of Wish essentially removed any purpose or personality she may have had and thus, she was left to become a literal ‘supporting’ character. First supporting both Magnifico and Asha, then leaving Magnifico to prop up solely Asha.

Deadass, you can literally remove Amaya from the story and nothing would change. Which is probably why she was exempt from much of the promotional stuff minus the dolls. Because she literally serves no purpose but to be… there.

So, in my version of Wish, Amaya would be a co-conspirator to her husband and yes, I’m adding Charo too. Her personality would be inspired by classic female villains such as the Evil Queen from Snow White, Lady Tremaine from Cinderella, and Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty.

Vain, glamorous, cunning, and unabashedly evil, Amaya would be the Morticia to Magnifico’s Gomez, the brains to his brawn. She’s the girlboss, he’s the wife instigator. Magnifico spoils Amaya rotten with countless gifts and praises, whilst Amaya is the more calm and collected evil compared to her husband’s ever-growing temper.

While she starts the story with no magic, Magnifico just can’t leave his wife hanging and shares the power of the evil spell-book with Amaya. And yes, even Charo gets in on the fun, turning from a small house cat, to a massive shape-shifting beast who breaths blue fire similarly to a dragon (shut up i think it’d be cool)

Magnifico and Amaya essentially keep the wishes of Rosas locked in the castle as a form of obedience. By giving the citizens false hope, it makes them more dependent on the royal couple, and the two have more power over everyone.

Anyways, let’s get to the main characters: Asha and Star.

I don’t have much of an issue with Asha’s character, more so her design. I already made a post showing my redesign of her, so that’s out of the way. Tbh tho, I also have an issue with the rest of the costume design of Wish, being a big costume nerd myself. The movie’s supposed to take inspiration from the Mediterranean, primarily places such as Spain and Morocco (and the Amazigh people for Asha), but the fashion feels like generic European medieval fashion.

I feel like the whole storyline of Asha’s interview with Magnifico was pretty pointless, so I would have it that she just starts off as the kings apprentice, whilst also working as Amaya’s scullery maid.

The couple took Asha in when the girl lost her father at the age of 12 (according to the film), and she’s been working for them for five years. Asha works not only to support herself, her family, and her community, but also as a way to distract from the grief of losing her father. Which is no issue, as Amaya always bombards the girl with chores, and Magnifico only teaches Asha the most basic of magic for fear of her growing more powerful than him.

I made Asha work as a scullery maid not only as a reference to princesses such as Snow White and Cinderella starting off their respective stories as maids, but also because scullery maids acted as assistants to the kitchen maids. Dahlia works in the kitchen, Asha and Dahlia are best friends, I figured it made sense.

But anyways, on the day of Sabino’s 100th birthday, Sakina tells Asha to take a break and return home, as she hardly visits anymore due to work. Asha says she’ll try asking the king and queen to get off early, but that she can’t make any promises.

Asha meets with Magnifico and asks for the day off, but the king refuses. However, wanting to keep her loyalty, Magnifico finally shows Asha the wish chamber, and even allows her to witness the wish ceremony that night. But once Asha starts questioning the king on his methods, any goodwill between them begins to fade.

Another thing I’m disappointed in, is that originally Star was going to be a shapeshifting humanoid inspired by the Genie and Peter Pan, and may have even had a romance with Asha. But, the idea was scrapped for the more cutesy, ‘marketable’, version of Star.

In my retelling, I’d choose to do this human shapeshifter version of Star, but I’d name him something else. The star Earendel was mentioned in the concept art book, which is the farthest known star from Earth and not only means ‘morning star’ in Old English, but is also named after the Tolkien character, Eärendil.

I would call this shapeshifter Star Earen, and because Disney loves their animal/cute sidekicks, Earen can have the ‘Kirby’ Star as a companion, just like how Asha has Valentino and Magnifico and Amaya have Charo.

((Side #2: Anybody else notice that Star lowkey looks and sounds like Kirby😶))

Earen and Star journey down to Rosas once they hear Asha’s pleas for guidance. Once Asha tells of Magnifico and Amaya’s lies, Earen reveals that he actually met Magnifico decades ago. The amount of years shocks Asha, as she realizes that the King and Queen might be far older than what they are.

((Side note #3: I didn’t realize this till someone mentioned it, but if Sabino is 100 and he gave Magnifico his wish at 18, then he’s been waiting 82 years for his wish to be granted. Which means it’s likely that Magnifico might be immortal. That, or Disney didn’t think this shit through (most likely)))

Anyways, Earen actually attempted to stop Magnifico and Amaya’s ploy to keep the wishes of Rosas locked away, but he was sealed within the heavens until he and Star heard Asha make her wish.

We can have it that the king and queen spun the story so that Earen was made out to be an evil that once threatened Rosas, but Magnifico banished him and saved everyone, essentially making himself out to be the good guy and manipulating the narrative.

Asha and Earen must now work together to expose the lies of the royal couple, and along the way, the two begin to fall in love. Earen disguises himself as a peasant boy so as to remain inconspicuous, while Asha tries to go about her job as if nothing happened, evading the King and Queen’s suspicions.

Star gives Asha a stick infused with stardust once finding out she is, quite literally, the sorcerers apprentice. It is also so that she may defend herself, as Earen has his powers and a sword (similarly to Peter Pan).

Unlike Magnifico, Earen and Star teach Asha the wonders of magic and the potential she wields, showing that there is no need for her to hold back when her gift can help so many, including those she loves.

The three manage to sneak into the kings study, but only have time to retrieve Sabino’s wish and return it to him. However, Magnifico and Amaya, now strengthened by the powers of dark magic, find Asha and Earen and threaten to destroy all the wishes should Earen not surrender to them.

And as a way to ensure that Asha doesn’t foil their plans, Magnifico destroys both Asha and Sakina’s wishes, despite Asha not being eighteen yet. However, the evil magic allows him to do so. This act weakens the two women, and infuriates Earen.

Earen then willingly complies despite Asha’s opposition, and Sabino takes Asha and Sabina to the seven (well six) teens for aid, who are in hiding after Simon ratted them out and who now serves as a puppet to the king and queen.

Despite loosing her wish, Asha finds the strength to carry on through the memory of her late father, enlisting the help of her friends and Star, who managed to evade the royal couple’s grasp. The team must work together to save Earen, whose power will be drained by Magnifico and Amaya. And if such a feat were to happen, then Earen would die and Rosas would be lost.

The five teens go into the woods to distract one of the royals, with the aid of the forest fauna and Star. Amaya chases the group alongside Charo while Magnifico tortures Earen and begins stealing his power. With the help of Dahlia, Asha sneaks into the castle to confront her former mentor and save Earen before it’s too late.

At first, it seems that the heroes have the upper hand with Magnifico neutralized, but then, Amaya swoops in riding Charo, who now takes the form of a giant dragon. Earen transforms into a dragon himself and battles Charo and Amaya, while Asha continues battling Magnifico. Star even comes to help after the original plan fails.

However, the unholy trio have the upper hand, and Amaya strikes down Earen, giving Magnifico enough time to not only drain Earen’s power, but to trap Star within his staff. With their combined powers, Magnifico and Amaya gather all of the peoples wishes, even stealing the wishes of those not yet of age, which includes the teens.

With all the wishes gathered, the couple and their pet destroy all the wishes, taking their energy for themselves.

Asha falls into despair as she watched her friends, love ones, and community succumb to the grief of loosing their wishes. The king and queen force Asha to apologize to the people, mocking her and making her feel even more guilty.

However, Earen comforts Asha despite his weak state, telling her it’s alright and that she shouldn’t be ashamed of wishing on Star, as he brought the two of them together. The two kiss, the strength of their newfound love and hope shining through the darkness and inspiring the people of Rosas to rise up.

As the sky and stars become alive, Magnifico’s staff is destroyed, releasing Star in the process. All the evil magic he, Amaya, and Charo used is sucked out of them and vanquished, and Earen is restored to full vitality.

Think of this as the transformation scene from Princess and the Frog. Asha and Earen get new outfits, with Asha even gaining a crown and a new wand from Star.

((Side Note #4: The “transformation” in the finale of the film is so stupid. Asha could’ve literally gotten a new dress once she becomes a fairy godmother, but instead, Star just made her sparkly. How magical🙄))

Rosas rejoices, as they realize they don’t need the king to make their wishes come true, and they can pursue them themselves. With Magnífico and Amaya banished from Rosas, Asha and Earen become the new rulers, being names Prince and Princess respectively.

And that’s basically how I would’ve done Wish. It’s not perfect, but it’s just an idea. I’m just disappointed that Disney do something better for their 100th anniversary.

[pedge-page]

I can imagine preggo wife literally talking and talking and talking in the middle of a movie and gets offended and leaves when Joel tells her to quiet down

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife : Yapper

notes: Oh I had fun writing this! no warnings (maybe some Fugitive and Raiders spoilers), Enjoy!

- - - -

Joel’s pretty excited for movie night. It’s one of the few films the two of you don’t argue over and can pretty much watch the entire way through without disruption.

Or at least, it used to be.

Joel settles against the couch armrest with his feet propped up, knees bent slightly so you have room to sit in front. He’s got any snack you could think of within an arm reach away, and he’s got the title on pause so you can scooch your fat booty and big belly comfortably. Usually takes about 15 minutes of squirming, smacking his chest to “fluff” it up, adding a pillow at his crotch, then taking it away because you like his hard cock there instead, elbow in his groin and then his knee, then you gotta get up to pee before starting the whole process over.

“OK Im ready!” You say after 15 minutes on the dot, snuggling close to him with the back of your head rested against the crook of his neck.

He finally hits play, and the Lucasfilm logo flashes across the screen. The tropical forest and ominous music plays as the familiar font of Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark fade on to the screen.

“Joel. Joel. Hey Joel.” 

“Y-yes?”

“Did you know Indiana was named after George Lucas dog? Who also was the physical inspiration for chewy?” You ask  rhetorically. 

It takes him a second to understand you’re asking him a question. “What?”

“Chewbacca! From Star Wars!”

“Oh ok neat,” he says with some enthusiasm, but quick to end it and get back to watching the movie—

“Yeah also Sean Connery is also apparently—well guess how much older he is to Harrison Ford.”

“Um—I don’t—I don’t know.” Joel says slowly, watching as Indy carefully removes the sand from the pouch and weighs it to the gold idol.

“C’mon, guess!”

“I really don’t know, can we—“

“12 years older than Harrison in Last Crusade! My mom was like ‘WHAT no way’ and I was like ‘Yes way’ and she was like ‘He's his father and he's got all that white in his hair and receding hairline’ and I was like ‘Joel's only in his late 30s and he's got white in his beard.’”

Joel can’t hear a damn thing happening on screen except the shouts about hating a pet snake named Reggie. “Wha—“

“Not that you look anything like Sean Connery in Last Crusade. Maybe in like Bond —oof he was the hottest Bond. Plus you got like a receding beard-line with all the patches, I don’t know, but my mom was like ‘Ya know Joel's got more white hair lately since you've been pregnant’ and I was like ‘Nah uh’ and she was like ‘Ya huh’ and I was like ‘Huh I wonder why that is…?’ Anyway but nope only 12 years between him and Ford—“

Joel turns to look at you with a frown, a bit confused and amazed at how you have so much to say, right now, oblivious as ever. 

It doesn’t phase your rambling one bit: “—Like damn, but you know Harrison Ford has always been handsome. But like in the bad boy kind of way, not like handsome upstanding like Christopher Reeves? When I saw The Fugitive, I was like ‘oooohhhh I'll be his wife now’ hahaha! no no I’m sorry, he’s famous and I’m not so that’s why I married you, but that's such a fall film don't you think? Minus the murder and betrayal and fucking Dr Charles Nickles like was he British or not? He was in and out of an accent the whole time? Didn't make sense to me but yeah, it's just such a fall Cozy film.”

Joel looks back at the screen and realizes Marion is already being cornered by the Nazi creep: “Ah huh—honey—“

“OH! I Love her song! It’s kind of like Leia and Han’s from Empire except the last notes are different, like it goes do doooooo instead of da dat dada daaaaaaa, That’s just John William’s for ya, but you’d never notice they were so similar!”

Joel opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out as you continue:

“—Also I know you said my mom made good apple pie but I really wanna try to make it because I want you to like mine more, so I need you to get some apples and pie crust and butter and stuff from the store, I’ll make a list so you can get it. They said we need ground cinnamon but I think ours expired like 5 years ago so don’t forget that. And then I'm gonna tell you how to slice the apples since I can't handle sharp objects and then oh I need you to get the mixer from the top shelf and then you have to mix it all together and slice the top with like little heart patterns and then put it in the oven n stuff ‘cause it's hot and I don't wanna burn OH and that reminds me—!” 

“BABE!”

“Hmm? yes?” You ask with a innocent smile. 

“Let's try to be quiet and watch the movie ok?”

He offers a gentle smile and nods, pointing towards the TV again and settling to watch it with his beautiful wife.

His very very very unhappy wife. Your eyes haven’t left his, face now downturned in such a scowl, he should be shitting his pants.

You roll your jaw at him once, teeth grinding against one another with slitted, murderous eyes. Joel gulps, too afraid to glance back at you again. His eyes are wide staring at the commotion on the television but, now in your deadly silence, he can’t seen to focus on it at all. 

Instead of saying anything, you roll polly up to your feet, arms crossed over your chest defensively as you utter a loud “Hmph!” before storming away from the living room.

He’ll have to deal with groveling tomorrow morning when you might be a little more welcoming. But on the bright side, he’s got way more room to spread out on the couch and he can hear the movie much better now! 

......... 

He switches it off and runs upstairs to get on his knees by your side of the bed, begging for your forgiveness and promises of a Clyde's milkshake to go. 

- - - -

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[dior-luxury]

What if reader was looking at an advertisement of Vil and told Cater, Leona, Idia, Azul, and Jamil they look far prettier and more handsome than Vil?

What would happen? Will Vil murder them?

I feel like I'm bullying Vil, help

𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Note: First of all... Poor Vil (×﹏×). Also this was kind of a hard prompt to write, but I liked the concept very much!! ♡( ◡‿◡ )

Characters: Cater, Leona, Idia, Azul, & Jamil

Dictionary: "Amor" means Love in some languages,"ジュエル" [Jueru] means 'Jewel' in Japanese.

Cater Diamond:

You two were casually taking a stroll through the nearby town with Cater.

The both of you were going back and forth talking about different subjects from time to time.

The two of you have just stopped by a nearby café where Cater insisted on taking pictures there. You two have spent almost your and Cater's life savings on.

As you were about to exit you both were greeted by a huge ad displaying one of the makeup collaborations Vil was in.

Cater looked up from his phone at the giant ad that was displayed on the holographic screen, "Oh you're looking at that. Yeah, Vil-Kun made another collaboration! He looks so pretty as always~".

You slowly nodded as you went to grab Cater's loose hand, "You are far prettier than Vil."

Cater gasped in shock from the sudden affection and words. Blushed formed around his face as you two both walked away.

"Wow~ My beloved s/o just called me prettier than Vil… I need to process this."

A drop of sweat ran down Cater's head as put a pleasant smile on his face, "I should post this event on Magi-cam!" Cater exclaimed.

He typed with his one hand rapidly as he amped up his walking speed.

Leona Kingscholar:

Ohoho, this man's ego just hit up higher- or even more than the total population of 'Twisted Wonderland', and that's saying a lot.

He naturally thinks about himself as more than Vil ever was so, props to that.

Leona can't help himself, to have the biggest grin on his face ever available, combined with his sly eyes.

His ego would be even higher if Vil was there to witness this all.

-

Leona tucks his loose hair behind his hair as he has a satisfied smirk on his face outlining his features. He's almost about to burst out laughing when he sees Vil's face.

Vil's face is a mixture of a lot of emotions, disappointment, disgust, annoyance... any negative emotion you could think of.

"See Vil? Little Herbivore right here thinks I'm the more handsome person in this entire room, including you."

Leona then wraps his arms around your shoulder as he exclaims tauntingly. Vil nods distressed as he waves goodbye.

Leona chuckles once more in satisfaction.

Idia Shroud:

You both were in Idia's room again chilling when you suddenly felt the urge to play 'Just Dance' with Idia.

Lucky for you, Idia was quietly on his bed listening to music. You slowly walked over to Idia's bed and sat down next to him. He looked at you confused as you handed him one of the controllers for the console.

Idia still had a confused face as you grabbed his hand and walked towards the front of the tv, "So you wanna play Just Dance?"

Idia returned a hesitant 'sure' as you both choose a random song to dance to.

-

You both were enjoying yourselves Idia randomly fell, causing you to burst out laughing. "Oh my god, Idia, you so appealing at this even more than Vil. I mean that in a sarcastic and non-sarcastic way."

The ends of Idia's hair turned pink as his eyes widened. He then covered his face in his hands to try and forget about the comment you have just said straight to his face.

"Wha- Y/n-"

He shook his head back and forth, holding onto his knees for dear life. You titled your head in confusion as you retracted your arms not knowing what to do.

Idia then was staying there for almost an hour as he slowly calmed down.

Azul Ashengrotto:

That comment would certainly boost his confidence. Azul defiantly strives for comments coming from his partner. It's no doubt that this one comment would have turned him into fried takoyaki.

You volunteered to take Azul clothes shopping at a nearby store Cater told you about. Azul was kind of skeptical about his whole idea of leaving the Monstro Lounge.

"I don't think I can do this, this time Amor... Who'll leave the place in charge- Ah. You'll say the twins won't you?".

Azul lowers his voice as he sighs in defeat as covers his mouth with his hand. "Alright you win. I'll go with you".

You cheer as you immediately grab his hand and run out of the door holding onto his hand.

-

Later, you were trying to find something that remotely fit his style until your eyes widened at a piece of clothing you found near the middle section of the store.

"What do you think?" You questioned as you turned around towards Azul holding the clothing item towards his body.

He lightly chuckled as he looked at you with awkwardness in his facial expression, "S/o, I don't think that would look good on me."

Azul's body posture turned stiff as he examined the piece of clothing, "I don't think I'm not that pretty to be wearing stuff with this-".

You put your finger on your lips to gesture silence, "What do you mean? You are hotter than you think. You could beat Vil in an appearance contest. People are so shy these days..."

You wandered off as you took the piece of clothing Azul was holding into your own hands. Azul's eyes widened so much that he didn't realize he's been blanked out while staring directly at you.

He clutched his heart as his eyes have gone all full of admiration, "I'm glad someone thinks that way." Azul laughed as immediately took the clothing item back into his hands.

"Maybe it will look good on me."

Jamil Viper:

Jamil might not come across as he cares, but he secretly wants you to shower him with those types of comments.

Something about the borderline sweetness of your voice saying that makes him want to hide in embarrassment.

The moment those words leave your lips, his face is dusted in a crimson red along his cheeks.

He urgently covers his face with his hand as he turns his head away from your face, "S/o- You can't be saying stuff like that. Kalim could come in here any minute."

You chuckle as you nod in agreement, "It's not like I'm lying your more handsome than Vil. By a landslide actually."

Poor Jamil nearly chokes on air as you repeat yourself another time. This time Jamil is about to die on the floor from the amount of heat pouring on his face.

He uses another hand to cover his face as he slowly dies out of embarrassment. He refuses to even turn around when he's in such a phase.

"Jueru, you can't keep doing this to me."

[sophswritingthings]

girls girls girls - blue eyed samurai

pairing: mizu x f!oc

warning(s): okay there's no smut, but mentions of sex and prostitution in relation to madam Kaji's girls

tropes: sort of annoyances to lovers, first kiss, sort of canon compliant, sort of canon divergent

a/n: she/her mizu by the way, and also this takes place during the... 2-3 episode I think??? idk, I don't exactly remember I was staring at mizu the entire time. ALSO THE TITLE IS A FLETCHER SONG, GO LISTEN!!!!!

summary: mio, an estranged princess by marriage, finds herself traveling with a feisty samurai and her apprentice. when they find themselves among a brothel, mio takes the chance to ask some… questions.

word count: 2,171 words / 11, 869 characters

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mio waded through the crowd of people. she was wearing a pink/red kimono, the traditional look of a japanese woman. her hair was done up, gold pins stuck through it. though the bottom of her kimono was in rags, torn to shreds from running so fast. after mizu and ringo, that was. they'd found her in her desperate time of need. a high lady, she was. not a princess, no, but she was married off to be one. her husband-to-be was an abusive prick. and when she decided to run, she ran into mizu and ringo. they'd (thankfully) taken her with them. despite miss's pleas against it, ringo had broken her down, somehow, and she'd annoyingly agreed. "you do know you're going to a brothel," mio raised an eyebrow, her pretty red lips parting a bit as she walked beside the weary samurai. "I know where I'm going, princess," it was almost as mizu meant the word as an insult. a jab. a prick. a stab. though it didn't seem to wound her. "did you think I didn't?" she said in that raspy voice, looking at mio beside her through her round, tinted glasses. "do not put words in my mouth," mio narrowed her dark, deep brown eyes. her eyes were like pools of darkness, that held many a secrets behind their beauty. "I never said that. I would only think . . ." mio looked mizu up and down, "that you would not go inside a brothel to receive their services." "and you would find yourself right," she hisses, the corner of her mouth twitching as they stepped inside the brothel. mizu did not bother to hold the door for her, making mio stop in her tracks. . . . not that she expected it, mizu was a difficult person. mio pulled the door open herself, holding it for ringo to step inside. after he did, he thanked her kindly, smiling brightly. mio nodded, stepping inside. "I wish to speak with madam kaji," when mio heard those words, her body stiffened. the man whom mizu was speaking to seemed unimpressed by her aggressive nature, her tone. "madam kaji's clients make appointments before they come barging into her brothel, demanding her services," he scoffed, his arms folded over his chest. his sleeves rolled up slightly as he did so. "I am not here for her services," mizu eyes were narrowed to slits, as they always were. no change there. "I said I wish to speak with her. is that so damn hard?" "it happens to be," he rolled his eyes. "if you wish to wait for the madam, than you may. I suggest you take part in the services to.. hold you over." mizu rolled her eyes, pushing past the man at the front. mio offered him a smile and a kind apology, following her confidants inside. around her, there were many women, many men. most were stripped naked, providing what they were payed to do. pleasure. prostitutes, the men would call them. they were honest women providing honest work. mizu had settled in the corner of the brothel, on the floor. her back was against the wall, one leg propped up, the other stretched out. her right hand was rested on the floor, her other draped over her knee. mio settled down against the wall. not next to mizu, no, just near. she folded her legs, sitting with them crossed. a kettle and a few cups sat on a small table. the kettle had steam bubbling from the tip. "why don't the two of you drink," mio delicately grabbed one of the cups. the cups were not deep, yet they were wide, round. she poured some of the sake into one of the cups, passing it to ringo. he happily excepted her offer. "and you." mio eyed mizu, pouring another cup of sake. when she attempted to hand the cup off to her, she denied, putting her hand up. mio shrugged, "we will be here for a while, mizu," mio murmured, taking a sip of her sake. "madam kaji does not take her clients lightly, you should know this, if you know anything of her. it will most likely be hours before you can speak with her." "I am aware of this," mizu hisses. "and I can wait, princess. unless you can't?" "no, I can wait," mio murmurs, locking eyes with mizu for a moment. its quiet, as they look at one another. tension so thick you could probably slice through it perfectly.

"ringo,” mizu let her gaze now rest on her apprentice, sat a few feet in front of her. her expression did not shift, did not change. she gently titled her head back, leaning it against what looked to be a wooden door frame. “you could go and look around. In fact, you should.”

mizu's words were firm, as they always were. but they seemed to have… a different meaning behind them. that was probably just mio's mind running in circles though.

“oh- um, sure, master.” ringo collected himself to his feet. he glanced between mio and mizu before making his way out of the brothel. 

“hmph,” mizu let out a little sigh.

“he’s a good apprentice, you know,” mio murmured, her eyes drifting back to mizu's figure. “he respects you. you can tell.”

“I suppose he is,” mizu muttered, her voice trailing off. she seemed to have thoughts swarming her mind.

“something on your mind, mizu?” mio arched an eyebrow, raising her cup to her mouth. she gently parted her painted red lips to allow the sake to come through.

“nothing of your concern,” mizu narrowed her eyes again.

“hm,” mio hummed, allowing her muscles to relax against the wall. “you should drink, mizu, I’m not sure when the last time I saw you do so.”

“why does it concern you,” mizu let her eyebrows press together in an aggressive expression. “princess?”

mio simply ignored her hostility. she hadn’t been with them for long, but she'd gotten used to mizu's demeanor quick.

“because I don’t want you to die, is that so bad?” mio sighed. she took the kettle in her delicate hands once more, pouring yet another cup of sake. “drink.”

mizu gazed the woman up and down, from her torn kimono to the golden pins stuck through her hair. she slowly reached over, her hand steady yet twitching. she let the cup slide into her hand, gently brushing mio's fingers with hers.

mizu looked hesitant to drink the sake placed in her hands.

“I didn’t poison you, mizu,” mio muttered, glancing over at her. though she seemed a bit flustered from the sudden touch. “If that’s what you're thinking.”

“I wasn’t,” in an instant, as if to show her confidence, she raised the cup to her lips. 

mio couldn’t hold back a gentle, breathy laugh, “you're something,” she whispered, almost too quiet for mizu to hear. mio couldn’t help herself; her eyes traveling up and down mizu's figure. it was nice to look at, sure. strong legs to a pretty face, even prettier under those orange tinted glasses. people thought those blue eyes of hers made her a demon. 

mio thought they were gorgeous. 

“you're doing the thing again,” mizu hissed, her voice coarse and raspy.

“what thing?” mio questioned, taking another sip of her sake. she very well knew what she had been doing, and that she'd been——wait, did she say again?

“the staring, the eyes,” mizu seemed unimpressed yet mio could see a hint of fluster under that “disgusted” expression. 

“is a woman such as myself not allowed to look at the handsome sight in front of me?” mio questioned, her gaze firm yet gentle on mizu's eyes.

“enough,” mizu placed her hand up, telling mio to back down. 

mio was not letting a slim, rare chance slip through her fingertips like flowing water.

“you're obviously flustered,” mio murmured.

“drop it, mio,” she let her gaze drop onto mio's face, her expression cold and colorless. 

“tell me, mizu,” mio mustered up every bit of courage she might have just to ask one, silly question. “have you ever kissed a woman?”

mizu froze at the question, her entire body stiffening, “do you think I’d just offer answers about myself to you?”

“it was a simple question,” mio narrowed her eyes a bit. “and If you're not flustered, as you say you are, there should be no problem answering it—should there?”

mio's words were almost like a challenge, to the samurai. 

and she knew mizu was not one to back down form a challenge.

“fine,” she conceded. “no. I haven’t. is that the answer you were looking for, princess?”

mio looked to be satisfied with herself, “that'll do, yes.”

“now,” mizu's expression shifted a little, to one that was a bit playful, a bit smug, if that were a way to describe it. “how about you, princess?”

“hm- oh, I- it was a question for you, not for me-“

“I answered one,” mizu countered. “why not you?”

mio stared at her for a moment. she would play into this little game they were playing, if it lead to what she wanted, “fine, okay,” mio folded. “I have not, either. only my prick of a husband. and, may I add, that was not very good.”

mizu scoffed, “I wouldn’t think it was,” she mumbled.

“one last question for you, mizu,” mio let her eyes meet the samurai’s once more. she managed to muster up every prick of confidence in her body again; taking a deep breath before speaking again, “would you kiss me?”

mizu’s entire body stopped, looking like a statue of a samurai pressed against the wall. surprise twinkled in her eyes before she adverted her gaze, not bothering to look at mio.

“that’s completely out of line, mio,” that was the first thing she said— because, of course it was. “no. no.”

mio’s heart shattered when she heard that one little two letter word.

no.

“oh- I- um,” mio’s voice was barley audible. that little spark that she had, that little confidence, it seemed to die, just at that word. “th-then, erm, forget it. forget what I said, I- wasn’t really serious, anyway.”

mio wasn’t completely serious.

she just wanted to protect herself from getting hurt.

mio was gathering herself to her feet, picking up the shredded kimono that danced along the wood ground. “I.. think.. I-I’m gonna go.”

maybe she could just stay with madam kaji. not that she wanted to leave mizu, or ringo, for that matter, traveling with them when she had gone and done all this . . .

mizu didn’t say a word to her. she was just quickly gathering herself to her feet, turning on her heels to grab mio’s small, soft hand.

mio’s pale face flushed pink. mizu pulled her a little closer, just to allow her arm to relax. her thumb, the skin coarse, rubbed against mio’s palm.

“I never said I wanted you to go,” the samurai murmured, for once her voice was warm, her expression shifting to something.. soft. something she’d never seen from a warrior such as mizu. her gaze flickered from mio’s hand to her dark eyes, “did I?”

“you . . did not.” mio adverted her eyes. not that she didn’t want to look at the pretty sight in front of her; she was just too embarrassed to do so.

“so then,” mizu’s voice was quiet and gentle, flowing like honey. “why are you leaving, princess?” the grip she had on mio’s hand was pulling her closer, and by the time she had the chance to speak again, she was pressed again mizu’s chest. 

mio’s mind was reading a million miles a minute, her heat pounding like a freight train against the tracks. 

“so . .” mio fully pressed herself against mizu’s chest, able to feel all of the tight, tense muscles inside. “that was not your true answer to my question?”

mizu lent down, her lips inches from mio’s. they were parted slightly, ready to speak to the girl once more.

“indeed it wasn’t,” mizu murmured, her eyes flickering to mio’s lips. her free hand slunk under mio’s chin, tilting it up slightly, “may I?”

mio gave a slow, steady nod. 

mizu closed the gap, taking in a sharp breath when their lips pressed together. her hands snaked into mio’s hair, removing the gold pins that were holding it in its updo. her black locks fell on her shoulders, cascading down her back like free ocean waves. mizu ran her fingers through the now free locks.

“now,” mizu murmured, still holding the back of mio’s head, her fingertips gently caressing her hair. “was that up to the princesses standards?”

“considering I didn’t believe I was going to get one in the first place,” mio laughed, fiddling with the strands of midnight hair that now fell on her shoulders. “it was wonderful I’d say.”

“hmm. well, good. I have the feeling you’ll be getting a lot more.”

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a/n: GIRL KISSER GIRL KISSER. in all honestly I hope you enjoyed it :) the next ones with still be “x oc” as of now, just while I get used to writing these fics!! than it'll switch to “x reader”. just imagine your mio 😭

tags: @jspidey5

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Tomorrow Problem (Broadchurch One-Shot)

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

Summary: Sometimes all you need for a little fun is, like, twelve drinks and a good laugh.

CW: alcohol consumption, super mild smut- smut lite, as Denali calls it, and by smut-lite i mean,, some making out, an ass slap and a nipple flick, copious giggling

Broadchurch Tag List: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @yeethaw13 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Alec does not let loose often. With his job and his working hours, any time was work time. But today, for your birthday, you’d forced him to take some time off and come out drinking with you. 

He’d been awkward at first. Ish. Not wanting to get too drunk or even too tipsy knowing he had to work in the morning. But, as they always do, your puppy eyes wore him down. 

One by one you both knocked back drink after drink until you were both giggling and shouting and slopping half your drinks onto the floor. You’d even managed to convince each other that getting up on stage and singing half the best hits from Queen, Rhianna and Doja Cat was a good idea. Although ‘singing’ probably wasn’t the best word for it. More like… yelling. Or wailing. It depended on the song, really. 

So here you were, about ten? Twelve? Drinks deep and teetering back and forth over the street and the sidewalk. Your sides were splitting from laughter, and even in his drunken state, Alec was doing his best to keep you from keening off to the side and collapsing in a copse of bushes or something. 

“C-Come on, almost home,” Alec grumbled, swinging your hand in his. Only a few more houses to go. Despite the house only being about twenty meters away, it still took the both of you about five minutes to clear. Ridiculous, but understandable. 

You knocked a bin over in the street and the two of you did your best not to fall over giggling as you righted it and tried not to wake everyone up in the neighbourhood. You failed, though, with the exception of Mrs. Blart, who was as deaf as she was unpleasant. 

When you finally made it inside, Alec made a point of pressing you up into the wall, kicking the door shut after several drunken attempts behind him. He had his hands plastered onto your hips, sliding up and down your body, groping and feeling at you as he pressed kiss after sloppy kiss into your skin.

You moaned, followed by yet another bout of giggling as he started urging you towards the stairs. You were tripping up them and laughing at each other, though you couldn’t help the yelp of surprise when he landed a not-so-soft swat to your ass. 

“Alec,” you slurred, looking over your shoulder in mock horror. The man in question just shrugged and urged you further up. You didn’t have many to go. One, two, oh- don’t trip. Three. There. Made it to the top. 

You ambled towards the bedroom, kicking off your shoes and stripping down as you went. Laundry was a tomorrow problem as far as you were concerned. Alec was following along with your lead. Or you assumed he was, based solely on the sound of a clinking belt buckle and what you’re pretty sure is a shoe hitting the wall rather hard. Oops. 

You finally make it to the bedroom, and you collapse onto the bed with relief. Belatedly, you realise that you were tiredly singing an old Ke$ha song, and you titled your head in confusion. 

“What- when did I start doin’ that?” 

Alec shrugged, fighting with the sleeve of his button-up. He flapped his arm around like an angry penguin before you took the cuff for him and he slid his arm out. 

“Dunno. Been a while, though, I think.”

 

You hum, slouching back onto the bed. You shimmy back onto the mattress properly and prop your head up on your pillow. You yawn and try not to focus on the ceiling as it spins like a very topsy lazy susan. 

“Oh fuck, we’re gonna be so fucked in the morning,” you say, blinking hard to try and steady your vision. This is, of course, pointless as Alec tumbles into bed beside you and sends your world spinning at top speed once again. 

“Mm, you maybe,” he grumbles, reaching over to flick at one of your nipples teasingly. You let out a rather loud ‘oi’ and shove his shoulder. 

“Me maybe? You haven’t seen the state of yourself, mate,” you say, aghast. Alec shrugs. You don’t think he’ll be shrugging in the morning, but that’s for him to discover. You’re sure he will have oodles of fun with that. 

“Wanna- erm- wanna fuck?” Alec asked, slurring his words so much you’re surprised he’s not a professional shot taker. You eye him sceptically. Even if you did go for a cheeky fuck right now, you’re pretty sure you’d both pass out before getting to any of the really good bits. 

“Mm,” you hum back, snuggling closer. Alec wraps his arms around you, and you know he’s already losing himself to sleep. “Maybe ‘nother time,” you yawn, eyes drooping. 

Your last thought before you slip into your dreams is that you probably ought to have put some water and painkillers out for yourselves. Bit like puppies. Making sure the water is out for them. 

Oops. Another tomorrow problem, then.

[doveypink]

between comfort and chaos [xiao]

summary: xiao decides to change, starting with you. word count: 0.7k warnings: gn!reader, spoilers for perilous trail quest, hurt/comfort, confession. a/n: i’m not immune to xiao angst </3 but this is pretty soft so i hope it makes you feel less sad after the event :,) + title is from ceilings by lizzy mcalpine!

The Wangshu Inn is just as quiet as it usually is this time of night, when the fireflies begin to glow and the crickets chirp their song. You’re standing on the balcony, your arms propped up on the railing while you watch the world fall under its midnight spell. Sleep has evaded you tonight, kept awake by worries in your heart.

Something stirs in your chest at the very moment you begin to recall what’s keeping you up. Almost as if by a sixth sense, you feel the presence of another behind you and call out casually: “So you’re finally back, huh? Took you long enough.”

Xiao pads towards you, catlike in his graceful silence, before he stands near you by the railing. You peer at him from the corner of your eyes while he removes his mask. There’s a pensive look on his face that makes you fully turn towards the yaksha. Your voice softens with sincerity. “Hey, did something happen?”

You knew the gist of Xiao’s plan: to explore the Chasm for clues pertaining to his former comrade’s fate. It was obvious when he explained it to you before his departure that this was a serious endeavor (as if anything with him isn’t serious); even so, you’re aware that this mission was something personal to him. When it comes to his life as a yaksha, you can’t say you know much more than anyone else. He hides a great deal of his past from you despite your years of friendship; you could never force him to tell you about such things, not when you can feel the hole in his heart, but it troubles you nonetheless. Even now, you don’t expect him to give you a clear answer, if anything at all.

This time, Xiao surprises you.

“He never made it out.”

The intensity of his gaze strikes you. You can only manage to respond with a whispered, “Oh.”

The silence that follows is heavy; it settles like snow around you both. There are no words you can say to soothe his troubles. There is nothing you could do at this moment to lift the centuries of pain in his heart.

You reach for his hand instinctively. You half expect him to flinch or turn you away, but the yaksha astonishes you once more by allowing you to slide your palm against his own. His hands are calloused, rough and scarred from centuries of fighting, yet he holds your hand as though he’s touching fine china. When Xiao squeezes your hand slightly, your heart aches.

There are no words to soothe his troubles, but this is enough.

The silence stretches on for what may be an eternity before Xiao speaks again. “I have come to understand something after my mission,” he begins. “I… have been too harsh to this world. To its people, especially. I have known for all of my existence that I am fated to lead a life of misery. That is the path of a yaksha, and I do not fear it. But even so… Even though I know my destiny…,” he says, his grip on your hand tightening. “I may never have peace, but the others — the yaksha, my family — would not want me to live without having experienced the joys of this world. My brothers and sisters may not have had enough time to live through such things, but I do.”

Xiao looks to you, a clarity in his golden eyes that you have never seen before. “You,” he breathes, “are a joy that I refuse to neglect.”

Your heart is in your throat, tears pricking your eyes. “So stay,” you whisper. “Stay with me as long as you’d like.”

Your fingers interlock with Xiao’s, a rare smile gracing his features. “Gladly.”

For the first time in his life, Xiao allows himself to forget the weight of his destiny. He allows himself to have this one corner of the world to be a little selfish, to hold your hand and not feel ashamed. His debt may harm you, but he recalls the traveler’s words: There will always be someone willing to be by your side.

For the first time in his life, Xiao takes comfort in something human.

[volklana]

Honey Whiskey

Title comes from this song: 

Request:  An idea just wont leave my mind and I would love for you to write if its no trouble. What if during tfaws during Madripoor Bucky sleeps with Sharon and y/n is absolutely devastated, Zemo offers her the chance to get back at Bucky and jealous/protective Bucky ensues and reminds her who she really belongs to?

I kind of took it in a bit of a different direction but I still hope you enjoy xx

Warnings: Zemo x Reader//Bucky x Reader// Smut (With Both)//Angst

A/N:  любимая (pronounced lyubimaya) means darling.

         Not proof read but all mistakes will be corrected in time.

It was stupid to be crying in the bathroom.

There were so many bigger things at hand but here you were, holding yourself steady on the bathroom sink, tears streaming down your cheeks and forcing yourself to take deep breaths.

The worst part is you had seen it coming from the moment they locked eyes in Madripoor, their chemistry was undeniable. The stolen looks, the lingering touches and the sly smirks she threw your way when she realized you were wary.

But seeing her, sneaking out of his room, in nothing but his shirt certainly solidified it.

“Ooops,” she giggled, brushing past you with a shove, and you made it precisely to the close of your door before the tears fell.

You did your best to push your feelings aside, finding Nagle was way more important than whatever was going on with Bucky, Sharon and by extension you. 

Pulling up to Zemo’s apartment, Bucky suddenly fell back, and announced he was going to take a walk. You followed after him intending to ask if he was ok, until you caught up to him and he was on the phone. 

“I’ve been thinking about you too,” he laughed and you hung back a second, heart pumping a thousand miles an hour in your chest and slinked into an alley before he could see you, and it felt like you scrambled up the streets of Riga until you made it inside the door of Zemo’s apartment. 

And here you were, propped up on the washbasin trying to prevent the tears falling.

You washed your hands and as you were drying them the bathroom door swung upon and now you were face to face with a pair of brown eyes that for the first time since you’d met him seemed genuinely kind, Zemo. 

“What is this?” he said softly “Why do you cry?”

You scrunched your face, trying to answer but simply shook your head as the tears stung your eyes. 

He moved to cup your face and you found yourself quite unable to move away, trapped between his warm body and the basin behind you. He used his thumb to gently sweep away the tears that stained your cheeks and you felt so ashamed looking up through wet lashes to examine the eyes baring down into yours.

The overhead lights made his brown eyes seem like honey whiskey that you could easily drown in. And you kind of wanted to...

“No man on earth is worth these,” he said almost in a whisper, stopping to examine the perfect droplet on his finger.

His gentleness scared you, but then again he must have been kind once, he had been married, she had trusted him enough to carry his children, there had to be tenderness there, beneath it all.

“He loves you,” he said simply and you shook your head, “James who you cry these tears for, he loves you. He is not ready to love you the way you deserve but he does love you.”

You wanted to know how he knew these things but you didn’t trust your own voice, you wanted to argue that you couldn’t compare even an inch to Sharon and suddenly he was stroking your cheek again.

“She doesn’t want him,” he stated simply “It’s a cruel game she’s playing. The Captain chose you over her, chose to keep you by his side. So she is taking your James just to prove she can.”

“She wants to hurt me,” you whispered and his eyes moved to look directly into yours, and he nodded slowly, intently. 

“The way you hurt her.” 

 You wanted to argue that you hadn’t been the one to hurt her, but something else seemed more important in the moment.

“Hurt people, hurt people,” you stated looking up into his eyes and he hmmed.

“You were hurt,” you noted, brushing  your hand along his arm, “Behind it all you were hurt.”

He nodded. 

“You need to be careful with Sharon. I had everything I ever wanted, and I lost it all and so did she.” It was a warning. “She is dangerous.” 

“What about you?” you questioned gently, “Do I need to be careful with you?”

“I am dangerous, yes..but I will never hurt you.” 

His eyes flicked down to your lips and for a split second you wondered what it would feel like to kiss him, to fully immerse yourself in honey whisky and amber and bergamot

You startled at the sound of your name being called and you looked into his eyes sadly.

“Go, любимая,” he said sadly “They will be suspicious, I’ll stay just long enough to not arouse suspicions.” 

Bucky and Sam were going to do recon, Zemo had gone to shower and you agreed to stay behind with him.

Before they left, Bucky doubled back.

“Are you sure you’re okay doll?” he enquired tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear “You know you can talk to me about anything don’t you?” 

“I know Buck,” you sighed, unable to meet eyes, “I’ll talk to you when you get back, go on don’t keep Sam waiting.” you pushed and he seemed to accept he wasn’t going to get anything else from you.

Zemo emerged from his chambers in a navy bathrobe and your eyes immediately were drawn to a gold chain nestled in the hair on his chest.

You wanted to slide the robe open and watch it drop to the floor, you wanted to finish what you had started in the bathroom but the air was thick with things unsaid. 

“Whisky?” he asked gently and you nodded. He had left the door to his room open and while he poured you looked at the four poster bed draped in red and gold.

What caught your eye was a cloth bound, faded book on his nightstand and you wanted to see what it was.

“Go ahead,” he nodded, following your line of sight and when you picked it up you gasped.

“Is this a first edition?” you were almost too afraid to turn the pages and he scoffed in reply “Of course!”

You were holding in your hand a first edition of Dostoevesky’s The Idiot.

“The world will be saved by beauty,” you mused, holding the book out to him, and he quirked his head in amusement.

“You have read Dostoevsky?” 

“Of course,” you seemed offended.

 “Do you think it’s true? That beauty can save the world.”

“I believe so,” he said no hint of teasing, as he came to join you in his room, “You are very beautiful and you do your best to protect the world. And there are still so many beautiful things in this world. Sit,” he instructed and you sat gently on his bed as you accepted the glass of whisky he handed you. 

You looked at him for a long time and shook your head “Helmut, you could have had a good life. Look at this place,” you gestured around “You could have done some good.”

“I have no regrets, любимая. I did what I felt I needed to do to make sure nothing like Sokovia ever happens again. Now I live with the consequences.” 

You brought your knee up to rest your chin on, he couldn’t quite make out your facial expression.

“You are sad for me?” he almost gasped coming to kneel before you, realisation hitting him like a brick in the face

“Yes,” you replied sadly, “And I am sad for me, because now that I see you, I don’t think I can ever look away again.”

He surged forward to meet your lips pushing you down into the mattress behind. You gasped, grasping the material of his robe and as he climbed on top of you, gold chain dangling in front of your eyes.

You slipped your hands along his chiseled chest and pushed his robe down his arms until the belt gave way and it slinked off his body and tumbled to the ground.

“My god,” you mused as you drank in his body, chiseled and lean and powerful, and he had you in the palm of his hands.

He pulled the flimsy material of your top apart and slid his hands up under the band of your bra, fondling your breasts until your back arched off the bed, without warning that was ripped away too and he made quick work of your jeans and underwear kissing his way up your inner thigh and all the way up to your breasts which he absolutely devoured, you were sure you would be marked tomorrow with the way he nipped the supple skin.

That gave you a sick satisfaction knowing you might carry his mark with you for days and nobody would know but him. “So fucking beautiful.” he mused. 

He pushed your legs apart with his knee, “Tell me to stop, he panted in your ear “Tell me to stop before I can’t.”

“No, no,” you ordered, yanking on the gold chain to pull him closer “Don’t dare stop!” 

His thrusts were slow and languid, and he pulled one of your legs over his shoulder, relishing in the feel of you, he chuckled as your eyes rolled back in your head. Face flushed red from the action. 

Your eyes widened as his hand closed around your throat and he began to pick up speed, slowly. 

“Your life is in my hands, and you would trust me with it?" 

"Yes, I trust you," you panted honestly and he took his hands away completely, looking at you with an expression nothing short of adoration, before diving down to meet your lips again. You clasped his gold necklace in your hand for something to grasp as he pounded into you as you came undone, and ever the gentleman, once you had taken your turn he came after you. 

You were close to sleep when he nuzzled into your hair "This is my only regret. That I will never get to do this again… not with you." 

You didn't know how to respond so you simply placed a kiss to his chest. 

You knew he was right, there was no way you would get to do this again, as soon as Sam found Karli, Zemo would be headed straight back to jail.

 He was twirling a piece of your hair around his finger, content just holding you close, before you broke the silence.

“Would you like another glass of whisky?” he hmmd against your hair and you clambered out of the bed, picking his discarded robe off the ground and tossing it on, you reached for his glass on the nightstand and placed a kiss to his lips.

You had been right, his eyes were honey whisky and you had gladly drowned in them.

You filled up two glasses from the decanter on the island, and you heard his door close.

“You are so impatient Baron,” you giggled, turning around to come face to face not with honey whisky eyes, but cold, startled blue ones, Bucky.

"What the fuck is this?" he was seething, chest visibly rising and falling rapidly. 

You were like a deer caught in headlights, too stunned to move a muscle.

“This is what’s been wrong with you? You’re hung up on that piece of shit? God!” he actually fumed “I left Sam on his own to come home and check on you because I was worried about you and all this time you were fucking him?” 

“James,” Zemo’s voice startled Bucky from behind, “It wasn’t like that.” 

Bucky moved so quickly it was like a blur and suddenly his metal arm was around Zemo’s throat and he pushed him back against the doorframe, “You fucking touched her, I told you I would kill you if you touched her! I told you she was mine!” 

“Bucky,” you rushed trying to force yourself between them “Bucky, stop! Please!” You managed to get a hand on his chest and he allowed you to push him backwards, slowly releasing his hold on Zemo’s throat. Keeping your eye on him as he gulped in air, you kept your hand on Bucky’s chest, and he laughed suddenly.

“She actually cares, oh this is priceless. Tell me doll, how does it feel to be nothing but a conquest? To be a pawn in a game you didn’t even know you were playing?” 

You looked at Zemo but he was refusing to meet your eye.

Was it true, he’d done all this for some sick joke? Or to get one up on Bucky?

You felt like you were going to be sick.

“Is it true? It was just a game to you?” you asked, voice so small you were ashamed and he lifted his eyes so quickly to meet your eyes, he began to shake his head but the way you were looking at him, so small, he couldn’t lie.

“Initially, yes. But I cannot deny that you got under my skin and I grew to care for you. Nobody could fake this past night we spent together.”

You hugged the fabric of his robe tighter around your body suddenly feeling way more exposed than you would have liked.

Your eyes were burning with red hot tears and you willed them not to fall.

Bucky huffed out a laugh again and you met his hard eyes, finding no compassion there, “I’ve always been a joke to you Buck haven’t I?” 

You weren’t sure why in this moment it was Bucky you were mad at.

“You give me just enough to keep me holding on, and then fuck the next woman that comes your way, but it’s okay because you know I’ll be there to pick right up where you left me.” 

“What on earth are you talking about?” he demanded, taking an angry step towards you.

“Sharon,” you offered meekly, taking a step back from him as shock crossed his face, “Yes James, I knew. I knew the moment it happened, that has been what’s wrong with me these past few days. I've been hung up on you. You James, not him.” 

He couldn’t answer you, eyes scanning the room for some inspiration on how to respond.

“I’m done being a joke to men like you,” you directed at them both and Zemo took a step towards you only for Bucky to turn on him in warning not to come closer. 

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” you wiped swiftly at the tear that rolled down your cheek,” you sighed before laughing at your own stupidity, “Fellas, it was fun while it lasted.” 

You sidestepped Bucky who reached for you as you made to move by and you didn’t spare Zemo a second look.

Neither of them tried to stop you leaving when you pulled your suitcase out the door and got into the taxi waiting outside. 

You cried so much in the first few days you were home, you honestly had no tears left to cry. 

You really missed Nat, she had always been the one you went to with boy trouble, she always knew how to kick your ass into action. 

You’d seen the news the night before which meant Sam and Bucky would be home soon and you were not ready to face either of them, in fact you were actively dodging Sam’s calls which really wasn’t fair.

You heard his shuffled footsteps behind you, he wanted you to hear him, otherwise he was well capable of sneaking up on you.

“Why are you here?” your voice came out shakier than you wanted but you didn’t turn around.

“I needed to see you,” he pleaded.

“Buck,” you sighed, fumbling with your key in the lock before finally getting your apartment door open and stepping inside, Bucky followed suit closing the door behind him “I’m not doing this again. Whatever this toxic thing is, I don’t want it anymore.”

“Will you look at me?” he begged and you shook your head quickly.

“I can’t,” you cried. If you looked at him all your resolve would melt. 

“Y/n, look at me please”

“Doll,” he begged, turning you to face him but you refused to meet his eye, arms folded across your chest to protect yourself, “Hey,” he pleaded, hooking his index finger under your chin and rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb.  

“Will you please look at me,” he whispered and finally you allowed yourself to meet his eyes.

“I handled this all wrong,” he whispered again, continuing to brush his thumb gently over your lip “So wrong doll. And I am so sorry.” You wanted to lean slightly into his touch but you also wanted to protect yourself. 

 “I was scared,” he began but you rolled your eyes, he gave you a pleading look and continued “I know you don’t want to believe it but I wasn’t ready doll, I wasn’t ready to open myself up to being hurt. That’s the truth. It was a cop out, but I was scared.”

“Scared that I would hurt you?” you laughed incredulously, and he removed his hands from your face and looked genuinely upset.

“Yes,” he answered honestly, “Raynor she said I shouldn’t do this unless I was fully willing to be open and vulnerable with you. And I was afraid If I opened myself up to you-showed you all the ugly parts, it wouldn’t be enough. I was scared that I would not be enough for you. Those other girls didn't matter. Sharon didn’t matter. I’ve always been yours, Always. I’ve been yours from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

He truly looked upset, tears in his eyes and biting his cheek.

You  honestly felt shell shocked and just about spluttered out “All this time I thought I wasn’t good enough for you! And you, you let me think that back in Riga. God!” you huffed “This is such a fucking mess!” 

“I was out of line, I said things I didn’t mean because I was hurt.”

You hugged your arms around yourself “I was hurt too.” you cried and Bucky was before you in seconds.

“Tell me what to do, because I’m yours doll. I’m yours!” he was begging.

“Show me,” you panted pulling him to you “Show me you're mine” 

He surged forward and pulled you to him in an instant and threw you over his shoulder and you squealed as he plopped you down on the bed.

He made quick work of both your clothes and catching your hands in his metal arm he trapped your arms above your head. He kissed his way down your neck, stopping to inspect a little mark just above your left breast, you watched his expression turn almost animalistic as he realised just who had given you that mark, he bit down and sucked hard on your neck, spurred on by the sounds he was eliciting from you.

“Nobody but me ever gets to mark you like this again,” he growled before he picked up a ferocious pace. You managed to wrangle free and he allowed you to flip him over so his back was pushed into the mattress, and you climbed on top.

You ran your hands from his muscled torso all the way up his chest and stopped to wrap your hands around his neck, “Who do you belong to?” you whispered, stilling all action. He groaned and shifted his hips in an attempt to get you to move. 

You squeezed slightly tighter and god damn he made the hottest noise you had ever heard, begging from somewhere in the back of his throat.

“Who do you belong to Buck?”

“Fuck! You...doll. Belong to you,” he moaned “Please, please,” and with that you began to move your hips in ways that had the supersoldier crying out your name, hand fisted in your hair to expose the soft skin of your neck to him, he suddenly rose up and bit down again before he suddenly reached his release.

“Fuck!” he cried out again, collapsing back onto the bed pulling you down with him. 

You were making some lunch when he emerged from the shower, towel wrapped around his waist and he began rummaging through his rucksack. He pulled out a square parcel wrapped in brown wrapping  paper, and seemed to be hesitating giving it to you before finally conceding to whatever mental battle he was going through.

“As much as this literally, and I mean literally kills me to admit, I truly don’t believe you were just a conquest to Zemo. I promised him I would give this to you and to prove my devotion to you, I am keeping my promise.” 

You gingerly unwrapped the parcel, and felt your eyes water as you realised what it was. The first edition of Dostoevsky’s The Idiot that you had picked up from his nightstand. There was a little note scrawled in beautiful cursive writing on a piece of parchment inside “любимая, my feelings were real, and the night was beautiful. And I do believe your beauty can save the world. HZ.”

  Tagging: 

@spookyparadisesheep   @jbbarnesgirl   @salvatoreitmeanssaviour@princesscornbread   @loki-laufeyson-1054 @firstcashheroathlete @missvelvetsstuff     nana1000night   sapphire-rogers   @sarahrogersevans   @steverogerssimpp @spudinthemud   @mrsragnarlodbrok @buckgasms @miss-patriciah-maximoff   @hellomissmabel  @knittingknerdy @shamvictoria11 @buckysberrie @assembletheimagines @dearthofequanimity @wellthatsrandomkek @mitra-k-w @nikkitia7 @fantasticimpaladoctor @feelmyroarrrr @sebseyesandbuckysthighs @andhiseyesweregreen @frickin-bats @buckyywiththegoodhair @iiharu-kunii @bellenuit45-blog @james-bionic-barnes @avengerofyourheart @jaegers-and-kaijus   princess76179   brasspistol  thelittleredrobinhood  

[sour-ggrapess]

S-U-G-A✰ Yoongi shows how and where the magic happens up in his lab

✰ smut ✰

please repost and comment if you enjoyed it

pairing: idol. yoongi x f. idol. reader

word count: ~ 1.24k

tags/warnings: smut; oral sex, semi-public sex, mentions of getting caught, yoongi puts your moans in his song, exhibitionist, squirting, no penetrative sex, praise kink, studio sex, soft dom yoongi, power bottom reader, spanking

Being an idol and dating somebody is hard it's even more troublesome when 2 idols date particularly when one hasn't debuted yet. You were pretty well-known around Hybe and on social media, people were waiting on your group debut just because everyone fell in love with your vocals and visuals. You were taught by the best; momo, Lisa, Jimin, and even Suga of BTS.

Noticing him pass by a lot. you invited him to come give you a small dance lesson and one thing lead to another and all you recall is a moist floor and murky mirrors. Heat entangled in the atmosphere along with unholiness. 

You and he went strong for those 10 months and currently you're a well-known idol, you want you and yoongi to be real. more 'lessons' and long conversations with him. He was what you could only call a flawless boyfriend, only when you did see each other. Staff couldn't find out about it or your members 

"Yoongi. Can we talk?" You questioned him as you tugged him into his studio and locked the door after you. "Speak to me, baby" He voiced as his hands wrapped around your waistline and drew you over to his open legs. "I want us to be official, not public but I want titles and I want my friends and family to know about us." His eyes widened and his lips parted. "I mean do you even look at me as a girlfriend?"

If he was being truthful he loved you but didn't know if you felt the same.

"Baby I felt the same but I know you're young and I didn't know if you wanted to be" He started to blab. "Min yoongi"

"Yes, baby?" "Kiss me," you said as you gripped his face and looked into his dim stunning eyes. His lips merged with yours as his head cocked to the side to let his tongue crash with yours. Moans abrupt from you spoiling the kiss, yoongi hits and grasps your ass

"How about we go public and official, hmm?" He asked before his lips sucked a dark bruise on your sweet spot making your mind turn mushy and smooth. "Mhmm" was all you could call out, just yessing him without comprehending his words.

Yoongi's cold, large ring filled fingers slither up your back to your waist area. Gripping at your pale pink lacey shirt causing it to slide up and pool around your bra. Flipping you around with him now in between your legs, he dropped down to his knees. Wetness trailing your thighs as his tongue leaves soft licks over the plush of the inside of your flesh. "take these off for me, princess" He groaned in between kisses, You raised your ass off the table and slid the shorts down along with your ruined panties.

Leaking hole fluttering as you felt his warm breath fan over your sopping heat, shivers rolled off your spine down to your legs making you shake.

Out of all those times you and him had sex he never ate you out. He even told you about how good his head game is and how he doesn't lie in songs. "Let me take you to Hong Kong, princess" He said with a smirk on his lips right before he dove his lips onto your wet and soft clit. "Bend over this table for me baby". Ass and cunt now full display for him as pre-cum drips out your hole, What you failed to notice was how your mouth was almost in the mic and his computer monitor capturing all your sound's RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE! 2 OF THEM!!

He propped himself under your dripping cunt, His soft plush lips wrapped around your sensitive bundle of nerves. The strong suction of his mouth caused your hands to grip the chair in front of you like it was about to fall to its death off a 20 story building. Your legs closing in on his head as loud lewd moans escaped your mouth, his tongue licked and slurped from your clenching hole back up to your clit that he would flick every time he came in contact with it. "My little princess looks so good getting her cunt slurped up" He praised before he stuck his tongue straight into your desperate clenching hole.

" Fucking eat it" you gasped out as you shoved his head down making his tongue go deeper in your shaking cunt. You felt your juices leaking all in his mouth as he curled his tongue and let out a loud groan in your pussy. "My princess loves the way i eat her cunt doesn't she?" He growled as he took up for air, "Yes suga, love it so fucking much". He made you call him suga during sex because he loved the way you said it, so fucking cute." His hand slapped your ass and his tongue slapped your clit making you grab at his scalp harder. Yoongi's soft groans sent vibrations up your pussy adding fuel to the fire burning the knot deep in your tummy.

You moan scream loudly knowing the fact this room is soundproof, the thought of you overpowering the padding on the walls and some one bursting in the room makes your legs shake and your knees buckle. "Im gonna- fucking cum suga- aughh- Please suga!" loud slurping and sploshing sound filled the room.

His tongue enters your hole again as he grips your hips and fucks you down on it. the knot undone as you pull at his dark strands and yell out his name. His soft tongue coated in white and his whole face soaking wet from the crazy orgasm you just had.

----──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────-----

"Come 'mere baby and hear this". he grabbed your waist and pulled you in between his legs, he placed his headphones on your ears.

"Yea, you know my tongue work, i just sent my bitch on a flight to Hong Kong". You listened to his words but the volume suddenly got a bit higher making you hear every damn sound in the beat, Then it hit you like a bus when you heard it. "Yes suga, love it so fucking much" "OMG!?" you yelled out at him as his little evil laughed bubbled from his throat.

----──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────-----

✉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ minsugy- Omg y/n unnie it sounded like you in the new augstd song"

"Wha? Thats funny, ive never met him but I have to hear the song" you laughed acting as if you didn't the man.

✉! .•°⟡˚ ༘ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ! ᶠʳᵒᵐ nayeonie. YOU FUCKED SUGA???!!!

NO??!!

DONT LIE TO ME Y/N DISPATCH IS ON YOUR ASS

⊹˚. ♡taglist - @chimmy-licious @shescharlie @bangtanattic

[gothic-bunny]

Sunday Morning

Summary:

You and Xavier get up to some lazy morning sex after you spend the night in his dorm. 

Contains:

Sex. Duh. It’s between an afab reader and Xavier, so you can guess what parts are used.  It’s told in second person. No y/n or gendered pronouns for the reader here.  The sex is unprotected. Condoms are important guys.  It’s fluffy but it’s a sarcastic kind of fluffy. The reader definitely has Dom sort of undercurrent.  Technically underaged, or you can consider them as eighteen-year-olds. Or you can consider the fact while the character is about sixteen, the actor is twenty-one.  I guess there’s also fingering, hickeys, and some hints of hair-pulling? Do those need separate warnings? I don’t know what I’m doing.

Oh, and it’s about two-thousand words long. 

Author’s Note:

Remember that time that I said this would be out before the end of February? Yeah, me too. College midterms are a bitch. Also this is my first fanfic post to Tumblr and to the fandom so if there’s publishing etiquette I’m missing or other constructive criticism, please let me know. Also, if you can guess the band and album for the song I stole the title from, two gold stars for you. 

Smut Below The Cut.

You awoke to sunlight streaming through an open window and smacking you in the face. Vile sun. You attempted to roll over, pulling the blankets with you, but the blankets pulled back. Weird. Come to think of it, waking up to sunlight was also weird. Blackout curtains were part and parcel when one was roommates with a vampire. Giving the blankets another tug, you buried your face in the pillow underneath you, trying to recall the events of the night before.

There had been a Nightshade meeting. You had snuck out of your dorm room after your roommate had fallen asleep. The meeting had run later than usual. When Bianca had called the meeting to a close at three in the morning after a game of 'Never Have I Ever' had gotten out of hand, Xavier had insisted that it was his 'good boyfriend duties' to walk you back to your dorm. It was then that you realized the time and that there was no way you were successfully sneaking back into your dorm room that night. Which would mean that you were...

A look to your left confirmed it. Xavier's caramel-colored hair spilled over the bed in ribbons, his left elbow propping up his peacefully sleeping face. You reached over and poked his cheek, causing his brows to crinkle slightly and air to escape harshly out his nose. His reaction was cute, so you prodded him again, harder, and this time closer to his mouth. Bleary eyes squinted back yours as Xavier woke up, eyelashes fluttering against the sunlight.

"What'd you do that for?"

You ran your thumb over his lower lip, pulling back when he tried to stick out his tongue and lick it. "You looked cute."

"But I was sleeping," his disgruntled tone contrasted sharply with how he placed his right hand against the small of your back and pulled you closer to him and away from the edge of the bed.

"Go back to sleep then," you retorted, throwing a leg over him and pulling the two of you closer together. Gently gripping his jaw, you tilted his head up, pressing a kiss into the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe I will," Xavier retorted, chasing your lips for a kiss. You evaded him, turning his face away from yours so you could begin to suck a hickey on the place where his jawline curved to meet his ear. "Hey--not fair--I can't sleep when you're doing that!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want me to stop?" Xavier gasped when you bit down lightly, then whined when you pulled away. "I'll let you go back to sleep then."

"No--wait--that's not--I wanted--" Xavier's hand moved from being outside your t-shirt to pushing the fabric up so that he could run his fingers over the bare skin of your back, tickling you slightly. This motion was coupled with his hips bucking up to meet you, growing erection dragging against your pelvis.

"What is it that you wanted?" Your hand went from his jaw to his hair, fingers threading through the strands against his scalp before grabbing a fistful. Using his hair as leverage, you pulled him into a kiss, teeth scraping against his lower lip as he moaned.

"You--fuck--" Xavier's voice broke off into a moan when you reached into his sweatpants and wrapped your hand around his dick, firmly stroking from base to tip. His hips jerked up to meet your touch, fingers fumbling to pull down the black panties you were wearing. "I want--"

The angle at which your bodies met was awkward, so you rolled the two of you over to straddle his upper thighs, panties tangled around your ankles and t-shirt getting turned inside-out as you took it off. Utilizing your new vantage point, you pulled down his sweatpants, exposing his now-leaking dick. "Want me to ride you?"

"Yeah--okay--please--" You pushed two fingers into his mouth, shutting him up. While Xavier had many talents, coherency during sex was not one of them. When your fingers were sufficiently coated in spit, you dragged them along his tongue and over his lower lip, a string of saliva falling back as they left his mouth.

You were wet enough that figuring out where Xavier kept his lube wasn't worth it, so instead, you used your newly spit-coated fingers to stretch yourself once, twice, three times, feeling him push against your opposite palm that you had planted against his stomach in order to hold him still. Sinking down onto his dick felt like being flooded with warmth, your legs trembling as your pussy stretched to accommodate him. You paused when he bottomed out, adjusting your hands so that your thumbs brushed along the valleys of his hips. Taking a breath to ground yourself, you attempted to make eye contact with Xavier, whose eyes were scrunched closed as his breath came out in pants.

"Xavi?" His eyes opened at the sound of his name, hands gliding over your thighs and ass before finding purchase at your waist. You rolled your hips, grinning as he let out a breathy moan. "How're we feeling?"

Xavier gave you a look that would've read as "how the fuck do you think" if it hadn't been so blissed out. You rolled your hips again, letting out a moan yourself as you built up a steady pace, going from little more than a slow rocking motion to a faster--but still lazy--rhythm. It's too early, and you're still too sleepy for anything more energetic. Xavier seems to disagree, whining when you don't let him speed things up.

"Faster...please?" Ordinarily, you'd give in to Xavier's begging, but this time listening to his whimpering would be more rewarding. The signs that he was getting close--like the faint crease between his eyebrows and the trembling of his lower lip--were starting to appear already, and you wanted to savor the moment.

He turned out to be closer than you thought. You were running your palms over his chest, feeling his heartbeat pounding through his ribcage--when abruptly he grabbed your forearms, fingers digging into you almost painfully. His mouth opened in a silent scream as you felt his hips jerk against yours, and your pussy was suddenly flooded with warm spurts of cum. You waited for him to stop shaking, gently removing your arms from his grip after he went limp and carefully lifting yourself off his now-spent dick. Pressing a kiss to his hairline, you waited for him to return to reality, your own climax not yet reached.

"Xavi...?" He blinked rapidly, then rolled onto his side to look at you. "Help me out here?" Xavier squinted at you, confused, then his eyes widened in realization.

"Right...yeah..." He reached up a hand, thumb brushing lightly over your clit before sliding two fingers into you, the cum still leaking out of you a stand-in for lubricant. "Like this?"

Xavier knew you wanted it like that, but you figured it was fair play after your "how're we feeling" comment. Unlike him, you didn't lose your ability to sass back just because you were so aroused you felt like you were vibrating. "Fuck you."

"You just did." Xavier laughed as he picked up the pace of his fingers, using his other hand to grab one of your tits, thumb brushing over your nipple. You reacted with a moan, not bothering to respond to his teasing. Just because you had the ability to sass back didn't mean it was worth it. Sitting up a bit, Xavier replaced his thumb with his mouth, swirling his tongue over your nipple before sucking a hickey into the sensitive skin of your cleavage. You could feel him smiling against your skin as you gasped, your body tingling with your rapidly approaching orgasm.

Pressing a kiss against the hickey he'd left, Xavier switched to the other side, the hand not preoccupied with fingering you placed between your shoulder blades, pressing your tits further into his face as he began to work at a second hickey to mirror the first. It was the feeling of his mouth coupled with the scrape of a blunt nail over your clit that finally broke the dam, your orgasm washing over you in waves and your legs shaking with pleasure.

The feeling of his hair running through your fingers, his hands against your bare skin, and the texture of wrinkles in the bedsheets under you were all heightened--along with a vague awareness of Xavier shifting his hold on you into something more resembling a hug. Slowly, you loosened your grip on his hair, fingers flexing as feeling seeped back into them. You took a few deep breaths to bring yourself back into the physical plane, returning Xavier's hug and pressing a kiss into his hair. He mumbled something into your cleavage, but your mind still wasn't present enough to make sense of it.

"Hmm...?" You questioned. Folding your legs underneath you so that you both were now sitting face-to-face, you brushed back some errant strands of his hair to better see his eyes. "What was that?"

"I was wondering what time it was. And also thinking aloud that you're beautiful," Xavier tacked onto the end when the corner of your mouth twitched. But he was right though; getting dressed and out of bed was probably a good idea. Pulling away from the hug, you leaned across his lap to grab your phone and your t-shirt that had ended up tossed over Xavier's bedside table.

"You're not too bad yourself, Sweetheart. Can I borrow a pair of sweatpants?" Though somewhat preoccupied with turning your t-shirt inside out and pulling it over your head, you caught a glimpse of Xavier blushing at the pet-name. "Five seconds ago, your face was buried between my tits, but 'Sweetheart' makes you blush?"

"Shut up. 'S different," Xavier mumbled in response, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and locating his pants. "Did you check the time?"

"Eleven and some change. You're still dripping out of me." You ran two fingers over the fluids leaking out your pussy and held them up as evidence. Preoccupied with pulling his sweatpants over his hips, Xavier was not paying attention, so you stuck them in your mouth instead. "Do you have tissues or a washcloth or something?"

"Um, yeah. One second." Xavier tossed you a box of Kleenex, followed by the pair of pants you had worn the night before. "Do you need anything else?"

"Not really." You cleaned yourself up as best as possible with the tissues, then pulled up your panties, followed by your pants, grimacing at the slightly sticky feeling. You grabbed your phone, confirmed you hadn't forgotten anything, then gave Xavier a quick kiss on the cheek. "Mostly a change of clothes and a shower."

"Yeah, okay. Meet me in the cafeteria for lunch?" Xavier pulled you back from his door into a more forceful goodbye kiss.

You smiled against his lips, then pulled away, opening the door out of his dorm. "Yeah, see you in fifteen."

[vind3miat0r]

Hush EA spoilers

(also a whole lot of word vomit. and for once its not copied and pasted from texts i sent to my boyfriend)

I TOLD YALL I TOLD YALL VEGA WASNT DEAD!!

okay wow theres a LOT to unpack here. uhm.

so the general theory that demons dont go to Death when they die has been confirmed!! yippee!! their magic just gets scattered to the winds and it seems like its up to someone to stitch said magic back together in order to revive(?) the demon that was killed. yay!!

taking a moment to talk about Hush because HUSHH?? Hush freaking out about how he killed Vega and how Vega confused him was just. heart-breaking. omg. i was expecting many things today, but not Hush of all people having a breakdown. that really hit too close to home </3

now, Hush mentioned something when talking about Vega: he used the term "anacruses" to refer to our beloved manipulator. hello? sudden lore drop?? question mark??

more lore drops is Hush talking about how he met Vega before he was formed, and how he thinks he wasnt supposed to remember the demon, and i quote: "But a part of me, a tiny echo within me is made of those who made me, and that’s the part of me that knows him. Knows… Vega. The daemon before the demon. The voice before the song broke from the stave. I don’t think I’m supposed to remember him."

focusing on the "voice before the song broke from the stave" part; i looked up the term "anacruses", and what i find interesting is that the word "anacrusis" popped up. "anacrusis" has multiple meanings, but one of them caught my eye: "one or more unstressed notes before the first bar line of a piece or passage."

now, i dont know much about instrument lore, but (correct me if im wrong) this is referring to music. personally, i think this is really interesting (this may be the autism speaking), because we know that d(a)emons have some sort of connection to the spellsong. im sure Gavin or Hush maybe explained it once, i cant really remember. we also know that Hush is literally the silence in the spellsong. the plural of "anacrusis" is "anacruses". you can see where this is going.

we know that Vega is really old. we know he was around before the Cacophony, which makes me think that he was one of the first daemons to be created. like, "within the first ten" kind of first. Hush calling Vega "one of the Anacruses" has me thinking some things.

firstly, the term "Anacruses" may just be a sort of title for d(a)emons who were created before the Cacophony. this is plausible, and i think it would make sense. it could also refer to d(a)emons who were created before the existence of the spellsong, maybe?

we dont know much about the spellsong, other than that its this non-corporeal thing that d(a)emons and Hush have a connection to (and if we really want to reach, the Sovereigns as well). we know that every empowered person's core has a "voice" in the spellsong, and that if said person dies, their "voice" goes silent.

we dont know when it was created, or how it was created. but the definition of "anacrusis" got me thinking... maybe the "Anacruses" daemons are the ones who created the spellsong. its a bit of a reach (thats an understatement that a very long reach), but i think it's plausible. its like FNAF lore: if you dont think about it, it makes sense.

you must be thinking, "wow vinn thats a lot of word vomit! what are you trying to say?" what i said a few paragraphs ago: "Anacruses" just means "old demon" but with significant lore and meaning attached to it. thats it.

(i really like how Erik's brain works — props to him for working this into the possible spellsong lore)

i dont really have much to say about Hush saying he existed before he... well existed. what i take from that is that he could have been a non-corporeal being who physically couldnt take a physical form until very recently. whatever created him took parts of themself to make him. i dunno, im still trying to understand it myself.

uhhh anyways thank you for coming to my ted talk, youve been a great audience as per usual :D

[criminalmindswhore]

Family Affair - The Smile of a Child

TW: the word whore, child abuse, past relationships, murder, violence, adultery 

Authors Note: The title of each of the chapters is a song title, happy listening. 

PS: This chapter is named after the song  Reid played with the little boy in an episode.

There was an awkward tension in the air as we exited the room and into the hallway. She stopped out of sight from my sister, but not the team. She turned and looked at me arms crossed, "Y/N, we haven't spoken since that night and I need to clear the air." You fidgeted with your hands not looking at her. You took a calming breath trying to force the tears in your eyes away. You looked up at the light and blinked a few times. "I'm sorry Amber, I didn't mean to hurt you. I just needed a clean cut from this place, obviously, it didn't work but I never planned on coming back here," you spoke as calmly as possible, memories of that day ringing in your ears. "You didn't need to end it that way, but I'm sure you know that now. We've both grown and matured." She chuckled at the stupid ways you both had as teenagers. You didn't speak, eyes still fixed on the ground. "Y/N look at me please," she pleaded knowing it was the only way to get you to talk to her. 

Spencer saw the two of you and noticed your body language, "Emily, is there Y/N okay?" Emily turned on the desk she was propped on to look at you, she knew you probably had a lot of ghosts here. She noticed how you fidgeted, and how small you looked. She's never seen you so small, "I'm sure it's probably about her parents." She had an inkling it was more but she didn't want to assume. Spencer nodded before continuing on about the statistics of murders in small towns like yours. Emily tried to focus on him, but she was worried about you. 

"Amber I said horrible things to you that night. You didn't deserve any of that. I was angry at my parents, at the world, at everything. I didn't want you to be here anymore either, or Kate," You paused to look away from her eyes for a moment to keep from crying, guilt washing over you. "I'm sorry I called you that." The word rang in your head louder than the station's noise and clatter, whore whore whore whore whore. "I forgave you a long time ago, that's what I wanted to tell you Y/N. We were kids, you were leaving your sister in an impossible situation. Y/N I think that's why he took their," she didn't want to say it, so you nodded, "Should I tell them or you?" You smiled, she always knew how hard it was for you to talk about it. It made you feel a little warm knowing after all this time and change, she still knew you somehow. "I can tell them, just be there for me?" Amber smiled widely at you. She pulled you into a deep hug, shocking Emily. You hated being touched but you just sank into her grasp, resting your head in the crook of her neck. Emily watched as Amber's hands sat lower than friendly. A twang of pain hit her heart. You pulled from Amber wiping the stray tear that escaped, "Let me tell Kate that I'm going to go help the team. Could you call our grandmother to come be with her?" Amber was taken aback, "You're sure?" You shook away the chill that crept up your spine, "Yeah, I don't want her alone right now. Just because my relationship with the woman is ruined doesn't mean she's not still Kate's Nana." 

"Alright, Y/N whenever you're ready." Hotch gave you a reassuring nod. You stood in front of the team, Amber beside you. They all sat around a table in the privacy of a conference room. You looked at their faces before starting. "I am going to tell you guys a lot of information so be ready. It's a lot and I know it won't change your perception of me. I trust you guys and it's vital for this case." They all nodded giving you reassuring looks. You opened up the can of worms you left untouched on a shelf for a decade, fuck this. Amber could sense your nervousness and gave your shoulder a squeeze. "My parents were horrible to Kate and I growing up. They were the kind of parents where nothing was good enough to please them. This led to a lot of screaming, belittling, and hitting. I remember one day in particular when I placed second in the state track meet. My parents were pissed and the second we got home all hell broke loose, they went off on me. My dad threw me into the fridge so hard it left a dent." The team looked at you with nothing but sadness and pain for you. You had to look away, "Amber, sorry, Detective Jones and I, think that's why the hands are gone. They can't hurt us anymore. That narrows it down a lot because barely anyone knew about it. Everyone knew my parents were strict with us, but every parent in this town is. You almost have to be with how easy it is to fall into bad habits." I winced remembering the summer I fell off the wagon and how hard Dad hit me when he found out. "Y/N, we need to know everyone who knew," Hotch spoke in a gentle tone, I nodded. Amber laid her hand on my shoulder, "I'm on that list." She stepped to stand closer to me, and Emily noticed immediately. The team took this information and started looking at the case again. You sat down at the table and wrote down 5 names, 

1. Amber Jones

2. Gloria Y/L/N, your Nana

3. Mildred Jones, your Mom's best friend

4. Pastor Brown, the pastor at your church 

5. Paul Brooks, your Dad's best friend

Hotch took the list and stepped out to call Garcia. The rest of the team left you alone with Amber, you just sat there still and quiet. Amber sat in the chair beside you and grabbed your hand. It felt natural to have her comfort you again, you missed her, but not in the way she obviously missed you. You let her comfort you though, you were allowed to be selfish right now, right? 

Just as you felt yourself coming back to the ground, your Nana walked into the station demanding to see you. Your world felt so odd, 10 years ago you left this place with no intentions of returning and now you were about to speak to Gloria. You let go of Amber's hand and walked out of the room. The second she saw you, she ran to you throwing her arms around you, "Oh sweetie I missed you." You didn't hug her back. Her whole demeanor shifted when she saw Amber follow you out of the room. She let go of you and readjusted her purse on her shoulder, "I see you still haven't come to your senses." Her voice was full of venom. "Gloria, please not now. Please." You pleaded with her, the death of your parents was enough, you didn't need her homophobia. She stared into your eyes, you looked hollow. She left you alone and went to search for Kate. Amber patted your back before following her to question her. Emily was quick to take her place, but never touched you. You were grateful. She smiled at you, "Wanna go get some air?" You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. "Yes please, I didn't think this would be so much for me." She followed your lead out of the doors and out into the sunshine. 

The town was quiet, with a few people walking their dogs. You started down the block knowing this place like the back of your hand. Emily stuck her hand in her back pockets. You took a deep breath smelling the town you had not missed for one single second, "I never thought I would be on this street again. Nothing ever happens here." Emily's interest peaked, "Nothing?" You giggled, "A couple of teenagers caught in the backseat of some vandalism, but never this." You turned to look at her over your shoulder, "The last murder was in 1974, a wife caught her husband cheating and chopped off his you know what." Emily laughed out loud, "Sounds like he deserved it." Your mouth hung open before you smacked her arm, "Emily Prentiss! You can't say things like that!" You laughed, and Emily smiled widely at you. "There's that laugh." You came to a stop outside the local sports bar and turned around to stand in front of her. She always had a way to make you feel better, Amber just made you feel everything more. Emily was the light in your dark, dark mind, "Thank you for taking me out of there. I feel like I can breathe. My Nana and I haven't spoken in 10 years." Emily's brows furrowed, "That's the first time you've called her Nana and not Gloria." Your smile faltered, "Yeah, I always wanted a relationship with my grandparents but after they found out about Amber and I kissing at church, that wasn't a possibility. They even tried to send me away." Emily shivered, knowing the pain. "You're not alone Y/N, ever. You can always talk to me, I might relate more than you know." Your eyes snapped to hers, a pain now visible in them. "Em-" "Y/N, it's okay. I'm okay." She knew you were going to apologize, Amber could never guess what you were going to say. You gave her a small smile. "Ready to head back?" You shook your head, pulling her into the sports bar, "You have to try Paul's wings. Honestly, it's probably the only thing I can think about eating. I ate her almost every night after getting yelled at by my dad." Emily laughed at you being excited over wings. 

"Paul!" You leaned against the bar, Emily standing beside you. A goofy smile on her face at how you went from crying to smiling. "Y/N! Welcome back kiddo!" A burly man appeared from the back and came around the bar wrapping you in a bear hug, the kind of hug a dad gives you. He kept his hands on your shoulders and looked at your face, concern written all over his expression, "How are you doing Goose?" Emily quirked her eyebrows, "Goose?" You laughed and looked at her, "I had a tendency to attack unprovoked when I was a kid because I was always angry, for obvious reasons." You turned back to Paul, "I'm doing okay. Being back here has been the worst part honestly. I never wanted to come back and now I'm gonna see every familiar face due to the circumstances." You wiped your hands on your pants, Paul sensed your closed-off manners and went back behind the bar. "Do you want your usual?" Your jaw dropped, "There's no way you remember my order Paul it's been 10 years." He laughed and you two spoke at the same time, "6 buffalo wings with tot and extra ranch. No celery." All 3 of you laughed. This sense of familiarity felt like a breath of fresh air in a place it's hard to breathe. Paul disappeared into the kitchen and Emily tapped your shoulder, "Are we splitting 6 wings?" Shit. "Paul make it 12 wings!" He shouted back in the affirmative. "Sorry, my head is everywhere." You gave her a nervous smile, "Y/N, don't apologize for anything right now. There is a lot going on right now, you are here of all of places." She grabbed your hand, her skin as soft as feathers. You gave her a thankful smile. 

After scarfing down your wings you and Emily returned to the station where things were heating up. You walked in to see your grandma yelling at Hotch. "I don't care what you're saying, your actions are showing agents not doing anything." You sighed and approached them, standing beside Hotch making it very clear what side you were on here. "Gloria, it takes time to figure out who it is. We can't just go and question every single person in this town, it could spook whoever did this into fleeing or acting out. For your safety, this team's safety, and the safety of innocent people, we have to take more time figuring out who to talk to," Her face fell and she stared into you, "Please, go back with Kate and wait. I know it's frustrating, I know it seems like we aren't making progress but we are the best at what we do." Gloria took a ragged breath and stormed off. "Hotch I'm sorry, she's a pain." Hotch rubbed your shoulder, in the most boss way possible, "Don't worry about it. Why don't you and JJ go talk to Kate and ask if she's noticed anything going on? Reid and Rossi are at the scene right now."  

"Kate, have you noticed anything weird going on with the parents?" Kate shook her head, "No, they've been doing the same routine. No new names or faces." JJ spoke up, "Has there been someone they weren't close with in the past that they've been seeing more recently?" Kate looked up at you, "Um, yeah. Amber was at the house last week." You looked out the window at her, "Did they ever say why?" JJ's voice was soft, "They said she was looking for Y/N for them, trying to figure out where she worked now. They used her to keep up to date with her." A chill ran down your spine, why did they care all of a sudden? They could've just called. JJ looked at you, "Y/N do you think she could be responsible for this?" You looked back at her, "No, she wouldn't hurt a fly." She never even hated you for what you did. "Kate, have you noticed a shift in behavior in any of your parent's friends?" Paul immediately came to mind. Paul was the only one of their friends who ever saw an issue with how they treated you two. "Paul, my dad's best friend got really distant when I moved out. It was almost like he put on a front with them until Y/N and I both moved out." You smiled at Kate, trying to comfort knowing it's not easy to talk about their parents in general, but especially now. "Okay, Kate one more question. Did your parents have any work done on the house and have people in and out?" Kate nodded, "They were renovating the upstairs rooms. Dad wanted an office and Mom wanted a craft room. They had people in and out for a couple of weeks now." JJ stood up, "Thank you, Kate." JJ left the room, you sat there for a moment lingering. "Y/N, can you be honest with me? Do you think this was a stranger?" You sighed, "No." You left the room and met with the rest of the team in the conference room. "This wasn't a stranger and I hate to say it but I think it was Paul." Your tone was cold, with no emotion in your voice. It made the whole team look at you with concern, "Please don't, I am fine." Morgan went to speak, "Derek, don't." You picked at your fingers. "Okay, Paul?" 

After hours and hours of looking at Paul's movement the day your parents died, Hotch sent you away to go rest. The team wasn't going to rest until they solved this, but Hotch knew it was an emotional day for you. "Hotch I'm fine." He raised an eyebrow at you, "Go find a couch, go take a a nap." Emily butt in after him, "I promise, I'll wake you if anything happens." You knew by the way she and Hotch looked at you, that you were not going to win this. You peeked in on Kate who was sleeping before finding a couch in the corner. Amber soon found you, "Do you need a blanket?" You lay down and shook your head. She left you alone but not before she rubbed your head for a moment. The comfort felt nice but it wasn't the person you wanted to comfort you. 

You wanted Emily. Almost as if you were thinking out loud, she appeared. Sitting by your feet, "Do you need anything?" She had the sweetest look in her eyes and you felt yourself warm up from it alone, "Can you hold my hand?" She nodded and adjusted to sit comfortably around you, she grabbed your hands and traced shapes with her other. The warmth from her hand and her perfume brought you enough comfort to close your eyes. She whispered something as you fell asleep, but you couldn't hear her as exhaustion took over. 

You woke up to Reid calling your name, "Y/N we found something but we need your help." You shot up immediately and found the team standing around the corner. "Y/N did Paul ever mention a relationship with your mother?" You came to a full stop, "What? Like an affair?" Morgan nodded. "I mean I don't think Paul would do that, but my mom having an affair wouldn't be surprising. Paul is one of the best people, I've always loved and trusted him." Reid shifted, his tell. "What did you find?" You glared at him, he would be the easiest to break. "We found pictures on an online forum of Paul and your mom kissing in the sports bar." Decades of trust you've built with that man shattered. "Mom cheated?" Kate spoke from behind you, Gloria beside her. You didn't even turn to face them, "Yeah, she did." Gloria cursed, "That whore, cheating on my son." Your jaw tightened. "Don't call her that." Gloria took a step towards you, you could feel everyone's eyes on you. "What was that?" You finally turned to face her, "Don't call her a whore. Your son abused all 3 of us. He got so into her head that she started hurting us too. God forbid she have an ounce of happiness before she died." She was silent, she knew you were right. "Kate let's go get some food." She walked out, Kate following behind her. Emily laid a hand on your shoulder, "We know Paul didn't kill them now Y/N. He wouldn't kill the woman he was with." You nodded. 

You looked at Hotch, "I think Amber killed them." You spoke quietly so that none of the officers overheard you. He crossed his arms over his chest and thought for a second, "Everyone in the room, Y/N explain."

[bucky-fricking-barnes]

Romance and Routine

Title: Romance and Routine

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Kissing, feet (but not in a kinky way), mentions of showering together

Summary: All Steve wants in life is to love you and to help people, and sometimes those spheres align.

A/N: This ended up going in a different direction than I originally thought, but I hope you all enjoy it anyway. Thank you for reading and supporting my work!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Steve’s finally back. You haven’t stopped smiling since he walked in the door of your apartment hours ago, and as you cuddle up next to him in bed, you smile against his chest. The fabric of his shirt rumples easily underneath your fingertips as you grip it, then smooth it out again, and the steady rise and fall of his chest soothes you like nothing else ever will. Three weeks was too long to be apart.

“I missed you,” you whisper. Your words don’t come close to expressing how empty your life feels when he’s away, but the crickets outside your bedroom window gladly accept your contribution to their music. Somehow, their song seems more beautiful now that Steve’s home.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and his hand smooths over your arm and shoulder, moving in long, slow strokes like it has been for the past couple minutes. “I missed you too,” Steve whispers back. “I made Fury promise not to call me out again unless there’s an emergency.”

Humming, you close your eyes and tuck yourself against him a little more. His warmth draws you in.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you say. “And I’m glad you’re safe.”

Neither one of you speaks again, and as the night draws on, you adjust your position under the blankets over and over. Steve lays fast asleep beside you as you fidget. It’s a miracle you don’t wake him up. You’re tired, and you want to doze peacefully beside him, but you’re uncomfortable. The fact that you know how to fix the little thing keeping you awake just makes it worse. Even the crickets are asleep by now.

Finally, you groan, then huff, before rolling away from your boyfriend and sitting up on the edge of the mattress. With one hand, you grope around in the dark for the bottle of lotion you keep on the nightstand.

“Honey?” Steve slurs, his voice thick with sleep. It seems you finally did wake him up.

You glance over your shoulder at him, then reach back your free hand to touch his outstretched hand. “It’s okay. Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I’m okay.”

Despite your urging, Steve sits up in the bed and rubs his eyes with one hand. He grunts a little as he props himself up with his other arm, adjusting his position and yawning.

“No, no. What’s wrong? What do you need?”

You hesitate. Steve needs his sleep. He’s only just returned from a three-week mission that he himself had said was more than exhausting. You know that once he’s out, he’ll be out for good. It’s honestly a miracle that he’s awake now. The last time he came home this tired, he slept for a full fifteen hours, and then he ate almost everything in the kitchen. You’d had to make an impromptu Costco run just so you had food for dinner. While the serum gave him an seemingly unlimited amount of stamina, it also gave him an ungodly appetite and the ability to sleep days away when he felt safe enough to do so. 

I guess I should take it as a compliment that he sleeps so much around me.

“Y/N…”

“I’m just frustrated and I can’t sleep. My feet are too dry,” you finally answer. The explanation falls into the silence, weak and pitiful, and you turn back to your work. You squeeze lotion into your hand and start to rub it into your feet. The slimy texture immediately makes you want to wipe your hands clean, but you dutifully go about your task until it’s rubbed into one foot. Grimacing, you slide that foot back onto the mattress and under the covers, and your mind recoils at the way the fabric sticks to your skin. You immediately think of all the lint and dust that could get stuck on you now that it has something to adhere to.

“You can’t sleep because your feet are too dry?” he asks. 

For someone so smart, he’s not very bright, you think as you smooth the lotion over your other foot.

“Yes. They get dry in the winter and I have to put lotion on them every night, but I hate doing it. I was hoping I could get away with not doing it tonight, but apparently not.” The words come out with more venom than called for and you immediately slump, guilt pooling in the pit of your stomach. “I’m sorry, Steve. Just… I’m okay, I promise. Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll be done in a minute.”

There’s movement behind you and you turn to offer him a smile as he gets comfortable again, but Steve is crawling over the super soldier-sized bed to sit beside you. He gently maneuvers your feet into his lap and begins to massage them. After a minute, while you’re still sitting in shock, he reaches to get more lotion. He rubs it into the skin on both feet and you close your eyes, flopping down on the bed to stare up at the ceiling.

His pace slows several minutes later, and by then you’re completely relaxed. Steve rubs his hand up your calves, then pats your legs with one broad hand.

“Better?”

There are tears in your eyes as you answer, “You didn’t have to—”

“I love you,” Steve replies, cutting you off. “I’d do anything for you.”

“But… putting lotion on my feet? It’s— That’s—” 

“A way to show you that I love you. And that I want to care for you in any way I can, even the little things.”

You can’t help but smile at that. You sniffle, brushing the tears from your eyelashes, then sit up to look at him. In the dim light that breaches the curtains on your bedroom windows, Steve’s silhouette watches you intently.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most lovely person in the world?” you murmur. You reach out and find Steve’s hand with yours, resting them on your calves.

He squeezes your hand. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re my favorite person in the universe?”

You duck your head, your cheeks flaming, but Steve captures your chin and leans in to kiss you. It’s gentle, and sweet, and perfect. When you pull away to breathe, it’s only for a moment. He pulls you back in again, kissing you once on the lips. Carefully, you follow his lead and crawl into his lap, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and wrapping your arms around him. You fit together like pieces of the same puzzle, and as he exhales, you breathe in.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says, and you hug him a little harder.

“Good night, Steven.”

The next night, he’s still home, much to your relief. Steve has taken up residence on the couch, so as he flips through the pages of a novel you’d gotten from the library, you get ready for bed. Work was exhausting, and even though you want nothing more than to curl up with Steve and let him read to you long into the night, you need sleep.

“I’m gonna go shower, okay?” You don’t wait for his response as you begin your nighttime routine out of habit, starting with turning on the harsh overhead lights in your room. You opt for the softer glow from the floor lamp beside your nightstand, and then you reach down to turn on the air purifier that first started out as a way to stay healthy but is now more white noise than anything. You’ve been so busy with work that you still haven’t ordered the new filter.

“What are you doing?” Steve calls from the couch.

Glancing over at the open bedroom doorway, you grab your pajamas from the end of the bed and double check that the little battery-operated alarm clock on your dresser is turned on. You don’t trust yourself not to infinitely snooze the alarms on your phone every morning.

“Getting ready for bed, why?” you ask once you’re back in the living room.

He’s sitting up now, hunched over slightly and staring at you in confusion from his spot on the couch. The book is long-forgotten; the bookmark you’d gotten him for Christmas a year earlier is stuck between the pages and he’d set the whole thing aside to focus on you.

“I thought you were going to shower. If you’re going to bed, I’ll come too,” Steve says. He moves to stand, but you quickly shake your head.

How long has it been since he’s stayed longer than one night?

“I am. I just… I have a routine.”

Steve frowns. “But you never do this when I’m here. How is it a routine if it’s new?”

You shift a little bit in your spot between the bathroom and your bedroom, then ball up the pajamas in your hands a little more. “Well, it’s not really new. I just don’t normally do it when you’re here so that we can spend as much time together as possible.”

“You don’t need to change your routine for me,” he answers, his voice a little softer. He finally stands and crosses the room, earnestness in his eyes. He takes the pajamas from you and carefully sets them aside, then takes your hands in his. His thumb runs over your skin for a moment before he speaks again, “I know that it’s hard, switching between me being here and me being away.”

“And that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to—”

“Let me finish. Please?” He meets your gaze and you sigh, nodding. Steve squeezes your hand in thanks. “I know it’s hard, but I don’t want you to keep changing your life because of me. And before you say that you’re okay doing that, it’s not healthy for you to constantly break your routines.”

“Maybe, but if that’s what I have to do to be with you, then that’s what I want to do, Steve. I do it because I love you.”

Sighing, Steve pulls you into his arms. You close your eyes as he holds you close, your heartbeats beating together in time. 

“What if I had the same routine as you?” he asks after a few moments.

You pull away to look up at him. “What? That’s impossible, Steve. When you’re out on missions—”

“When I’m home,” Steve says, “I’ll keep the same routines as you. It doesn’t matter what I do on missions, we both know that, but if we have the same routines while I’m here, it’ll be easier on you. Besides, Fury and I have had a few conversations about me slowing down a little bit. Hanging up the mantle, metaphorically speaking.”

“You mean… not being Captain America?” you ask. You’re not sure what to say or do in response to his news, but you settle for, “Is that really what you want?”

“What I want is to be with you.” He quiets for a moment, then lowers himself down onto one knee. You inhale sharply as he takes your hands in his and squeezes them once. “Till death do us part.”

“Are you— Steven…”

“Marry me, Y/N. I know that it won’t be the most traditional marriage, but I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t think I can go another day without being able to call you my wife.”

Swallowing thickly, you try to fight against the wave of tears that threatens to spill down your cheeks. You’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt and your hands tremble in his, but you’ve never felt more certain of yourself.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He’s up in an instant, his hands cupping your face as he kisses you hard. Your hands grab onto his shirt, fisting the fabric at his sides and pulling him even closer to you. The heat from his body is overwhelming in this proximity but you hold on tight, your eyes fluttering shut as he kisses you like his life depends on it. You can taste the peppermint he had after the curry he’d picked up for dinner, and you pull away just enough to inhale deeply before going back to your kiss. You think for a second that maybe your life depends on this kiss, and when Steve backs you up until you're pressed against the wall, you don’t fight back. You let him manhandle you as you simply hang on, leaning into the outpouring of love he gives you.

“I love you,” you pant, pushing him away with gentle hands several moments later. “But we— I’ve gotta shower. I have work in the morning.”

He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours, and you laugh a little too. It feels silly to be talking about work after just getting engaged to the love of your life.

“Right,” he breathes. “Your routine.”

You laugh in earnest now. You release his shirt and smooth your hands up to his chest. He doesn’t move away from you until you smile and put a little pressure on him, and even then Steve only moves back one step. You straighten and clear your throat, your cheeks hot under his gaze.

“My routine,” you repeat. “Though, if we’re going to start keeping the same one… You need to shower now, too.”

He grins wide. “Right. Guess I’ll get my pajamas.”

“And I’ll get the water started.”

The shower is quick, and it only ends as soon as it does because your exhaustion starts to win out over your excitement. Steve helps you dry off and then dress before carrying you to the bedroom. You let your head lean against his damp shoulder as he carries you bridal style, then lowers you onto the mattress. 

“Feet up,” he instructs, sitting down on your side of the bed, closer to the end.

“Huh?”

He pats his thigh and grabs the lotion from the nightstand. “Put your feet here.”

You can’t help but smile wide as you follow his instructions. Steve starts to rub the lotion into your skin, just as he had the night before, but this time you keep yourself propped up with both hands until he tells you to lay back down again. When he finishes, he sets the bottle back where it belongs and then turns off the lamp before crawling under the covers with you. Immediately, you snuggle up beside him.

“You are,” you whisper, “by far,” you pause to brush hair off his forehead, “the most incredible individual I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah?”

“And I think that I’m going to fall more in love with you every single day,” you admit. It’s the truth, and your heart swells when he finds your hand and brings it to his lips. Steve presses a kiss to your fingers, then holds your hand over his heart. It beats underneath your touch, slow, steady, and true. 

“I love you too, Y/N, with everything I am.”

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[how-serene]

Anon cause I can't ask from my sideblog, I've never requested anything before but here we go, I couldn't decide so here's a few to choose from, I hope any of these inspire you~

'If you won't take care of yourself, then who will?' - Abner or Bob, dealer's choice

'How is it you're never scared?' - Johnson, I adore the way you write him~

'Don't we deserve to be happy?' - dealer's choice :3c

'Don't you know what you mean to me?' - this one is a longshot but Simon Lynch if you've ever seen his episode

Choice

Pairing - Johnson (Reprisal) x Neutral!Reader

Summary - You ask Johnson a question that's been weighing on you for a while now.

Word Count - 715

Warnings - slightest bit of angst

A/N - Sorry for the lame ass title. I decided to go with Johnson's prompt as I've been feeling very inspired by him lately. Thank you!

July’s summer air was muggy, the humidity sticking to the crevices of your skin. Crickets, and the other sounds of insects surrounded you. The car headlights split between the overwhelming darkness of the field, illuminating on you and Johnson. His arm supported the back of your head, as you snuggled into his side. The worn quilt beneath you two acted as a barrier from the harsh dried patches of grass. 

Up above, a cluster of stars against a black sheet twinkled down at you. Music poured from the portable radio propped up on the hood of the car, the singer unknown to your ears. Yet it was soft and lovely, their voice tugging at the loose threads of your heart. 

Johnson sighed, shifting his body closer to yours. Your hand rested flat against his chest, toying with one of the many sleek black buttons on his shirt. He was speaking about Matty, and Ethan. Something had gone wrong, a run-in that ended poorly (for the others). 

“How is it you’re never scared?” You asked, voice quiet against the night. 

He briefly glanced down at you, sensing the worry in your tone. “What do you mean, darlin?” 

You sighed, moving to sit up and properly face him. His hands tried coaxing you back into his side, your sudden absence leaving a cold gap of space. 

“You’ve been a Phoenix since I met you, Johnson.” You explained, crossing your legs. “And probably longer than that. You talk about things going wrong, run-ins and fights, like it's another Tuesday.” His eyes (as dark as the sky above you) watched, puzzled by your words. 

“God, I imagine it’s probably terrifying sometimes.” You said, staring down at your lap. The question had sat on your tongue for weeks, almost too heavy to hold. It felt almost silly to fret over Johnson’s well-being like this. He alway assured you things were fine, and you expected to hear those same words now. 

Only you didn’t.

“I’ve been a Phoenix for years now.” He confessed, mulling over your question. “Everything about that life sort of becomes second nature to you.” A thought crossed his eyes, quickly diminished as he sucked a breath of air through his teeth. You could see the chips in his stone-faced facade, wanting to come undone around you. 

“I guess to an outsider, it is pretty terrifying.” Johnson continued, eyes looking up at the sky.

“So, it never scares you, at all?” You asked again, knee brushing against his hip. He exhaled, craning his neck to look up at you. His hand found your thigh, where he subconsciously ran his thumb over the jean material. 

“Sometimes.” He whispered, as if it were a secret. 

You felt your heart splinter, as the shimmering of the stars got caught in his pupils. The ballad of some song filtering through the radio filled the gap of silence. About some singer detailing the woes of life, and the hardships he had to overcome. The sharp chirpings of the crickets cut through the music though, nearly deafening. 

Without another word, you crawled back into his arms, where they warmly engulfed you. He nuzzled the side of your face, a kiss (as faint as the wind) left upon your temple. His hands greedily welcomed you, pressing you into his side as if trying to mold your figure into his. 

“I chose this life of a Phoenix.” He said, lifting your hand to pepper kisses across the knuckle. “It’s the only life I got, and it’s alright for what it is.” 

You nodded, as if you understood. Perhaps a small part of you did, somewhere. We’re told we never get to choose our families. But you did, slowly along the way. Sure, people filtered in and out of your life, as they do. But it was beautiful to have a choice altogether, on who you can love. You wondered where you stood though, in-between the family of Phoenix’s and Johnson. If maybe, you held some significance somewhere in-between those two lives. The possibility of there being no gravity to your presences in Johnson’s life sat like a bowling ball in your stomach. 

You searched the sky for an answer, but the stars only winked, providing none. 

Was the choice of love still beautiful if it hurt?