#they’re trying so hard but it’s a little lost in translation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pandoraslxna · 1 year

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ok but w step bro! neteyam w/ “just the tip” 👀

Infected

Stepbro Neteyam x female omatikaya reader

Words: 2.9k

Summary: While on a hunt with your stepbrother Neteyam, he comes in contact with something that makes him act… strange.

Warnings: explicit smut, stepcest (means they’re not siblings related by blood, reader is adopted!), aged up characters, sex pollen, mild dub-con, dry humping, p in v, quickie, semi-public, creampie

Notes: gif made by the amazing @eclipseatsea <3 Anyways, I wrote this in one sitting wtf??🧍🏻‍♀️

Na‘vi translations:

Thanì - little star

Neteyam is hot. No, not that kind of hot— I mean yes, that kind too, but right now he feels hot. Feverish even.

His skin is glistening in a thin layer of sweat, breathing slightly uneven and rapid and eyes almost fully blown. The yellow of his iris has decreased into a thin ring around his pitch black pupils.

You hastily blurt the information of your stepbrothers condition into your throat comm, pacing back and forth in worry. Occasionally, you glance back at Neteyam, who was barely able to hold himself up on his feet, his back now resting against a tree trunk. Every time you looked at him over your shoulder, he seemed to slide further down the trunk, until he was finally sitting down on the ground. His eyes were still glued on you the whole time, following your every movement. You saw the way his nose scrunched and his ears laid flat against his head, his tail trashing against the ground behind his back and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought that he was still hunting.

"Sweetheart, listen", Jakes voice finally snapped you out of your thoughts, "That sounds like he’s been infected with something. Did you two touch or eat anything strange? Got stung by something?"

"No? I- I don’t know, dad, I really don’t", you sigh, "How much longer until you’re here?"

"Twenty… maybe thirty minutes." Not before the eclipse starts, you think, chewing on your bottom lip as the anxiety grows worse. "Make sure he doesn’t fall asleep until I’m there and try to get him some water."

"Yes, yes okay, alright." You nod, even though he couldn’t see it. "Please hurry."

"Breathe, don’t panic, babygirl. It’s going to be alright, I’m sure it’s nothing bad", your stepfather reassures you and the soothing tone in voice actually helps you calm down a bit. "Check him for any stings, wounds or other injuries, okay? And if you find anything, report it back to me."

"Yes, sir."

You tried to focus on that order, because if you were to think even for one second about anything else, you would’ve lost your composure once and for all. Immediately after the line went dead, you turn back to Neteyam. He’s still sitting there, silent, unmoving, just looking at you.

"Dad will be here soon", you mumble, more to comfort yourself than him, as you step closer. "He said I need to check you for injuries."

There’s the slightest movement, barely even a nod from Neteyam as you kneel down in front of him, giving you permission to touch him. With shaky fingers and your heart pounding inside your chest hard enough to break your ribs, you reach out for his hands. You feel his palms first, then his wrist, but nothing. Your hands move further up, checking his arms, shoulders, his chest. Your mouths feels dry, but again, you can’t find anything. Not even a splinter or the tiniest scratch. He seems completely fine. You would’ve thought that there was nothing wrong with him, if it wasn’t so obvious that there was clearly something very wrong with him.

It’s when you’re about to check his back, shuffling closer and leaning forward for a better view, that he suddenly pulls you by your wrists and makes you straddle his lap. The air around you both felt electrifying now, every one of your senses coming alive all at once. You gasped his name in surprise, your face turning bright red from the intimate position you found yourself in, with both of his arms encircled tightly around your middle.

It’s been a while since someone was last this close to you and you couldn’t help but notice every single inch of bare skin that was now touching yours. Your thighs on his, his arms around your middle, your hands on his chest—

But then Neteyam hisses through clenched teeth and buries his face in the crock of your neck and it immediately snaps you back to the fact that your stepbrother was sick. He was sick or injured or eywa knows what he was going through, but it seemingly caused him this much pain and distress, that he was seeking comfort in you.

Cause that’s what it was, right? That’s why he pulled you into his lap. Right?

"A-Are you in pain?"

What a stupid question, you thought, face scrunching up in embarrassment. Of course he was, you knew that already. But what else were you supposed to say to him? You just had to say something, because sitting in a position like this with someone you considered family and not saying anything would’ve made this even more awkward than it already was.

"Hmh", Neteyam only hums. His breath is warm against the skin of your throat, a constant reminder of how close he was to you like this.

"Where?"

Why did that even matter? Maybe you thought, hoped, that he could show you where, that he would point to somewhere and help you understand what was wrong with him.

Well, lucky for you, that’s exactly what he did. With his arms still wrapped around your middle, Neteyam pushed you down harder against his lap, his own hips rising just enough to grind his hard cock against your clothed cunt. "Right there", he groans lowly and in that moment, it felt like all the blood in your veins rushed straight to your head, making you feel dizzy with heat.

You don’t even know why, but instinctively, you try to push yourself off and away from him. Okay scratch that— you knew exactly why. It’s not that it didn’t feel good, it was the fact that it didn’t feel right. Neteyam was your stepbrother, someone you weren’t even supposed to touch like this! Whatever it was, that made him act the way he did, he surely wasn’t himself right now. He would’ve never… or would he?

You shake your head as if to shake the thoughts out of it, hands finding purchase on his shoulders and you attempt to lift yourself off of him again, but his arms hold you secured against him. "Stay. Please", Neteyam murmurs against your collarbone, "You make me feel better."

"I, uhm… I don’t think that’s a good ide—"

You’re interrupted by the sound of your own surprised squeak, when he suddenly lifts you up and quickly, probably a little too quick, lays you down against the ground with a thud. Your back was pressed against the soft grass now and his full body weight laid on top of you, his arms on either side of your head caging you in completely.

Your heart races, hammers against your ribs like a Fkio in a small cage. A new wave of heat spreads all over your body when Neteyam presses his nose against the skin of throat, inhaling as deep as his lungs could expand.

Your arousal and natural scent were so potent on his nose, it was making his mind hazy and his cock strained against his loincloth so tightly, he thought it would tear the fabric at any second. You were trying so hard to hide your own arousal, but he could smell you— could see your flushed face, hear your panting and feel how you tried to squeeze your thighs together, if it weren’t for his hips to be settled in between them.

Neteyam inhales again and his eyes flutter close. He does so, while he continues to grind his cock against your core. The outline of his length getting dragged over your folds and his tip bumping against your clothed clit makes you whimper softly, your noises only egging him on more.

"W-What are you doing?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. You sound so small and uncertain– uncertain if you could allow yourself to feel good, to enjoy this, despite the guilt of doing something so forbidden with him.

"I’m sorry. Feels better when i do that", Neteyam responds, burying his apologies into your skin, "Makes it hurt less." He doesn’t sound uncertain, or guilty for that matter. He sounds desperate, breathless. Like he’s holding himself back.

You could feel Neteyams tail wrap itself around your calf and his breath ghost over the shell of your ear, but then you shake your head and swallow thickly, like it pains you to say this, "You should… probably get off of me."

Not even a second passes, before you feel him grind himself between your thighs again, hard cock gliding over your most private parts, the fabric of your loincloths only adding further to the rough friction and you could feel the wetness pool right there, soaking the fabric.

"Sorry I just… I can’t think. Can’t stop." Neteyam whispers, sending a shiver throughout your entire body.

It was the truth. He had tried to downplay the effects so as not to worry you even more, but ever since he had accidentally inhaled that weird pink dust of this strange looking flower, the one he wanted to pick for you when you had your back turned to him, it had been hard to breath. His lungs, loins, skin, everything felt on fire.

The first touch of your hands on him, skin to skin, had felt like a mouthful of fresh water, cooling down his insides. The first relief he‘s had in hours.

But it still wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed you.

"It’s okay, i know you’re in pain but—"

You nearly moan, just barely managing to catch it before the sound leaves your throat, when he bumps against your clit again. The sounds he coaxed out of you made his blood boil inside his veins.

You had to remind yourself that this wasn’t supposed to feel good, that you were in the middle of the forest, that he was your stepbrother, that his father, your stepfather was on his way to your position, but eywa— eywa, does it feel good when he moves like this…

Neteyam growls into the crook of your neck, bucking his hips just a little harder against you, and it sounds strained, reflecting the state of his body perfectly. "Please, thanì, c‘mon. Fuck. Just the tip, please."

"Teyam, we… we shouldn’t. Dad– Dad will be here a-any minute now." It’s a weak attempt to try and reason him. You’re not even convinced to stop this yourself, if you were being completely honest with yourself. Biting your lip, you had to conceal another whimper from escaping, as he continues to hump you like he was experiencing his rut. At this point, you weren’t sure how much more you could take of this, without giving in to your desires— to his desires.

Neteyam should feel sick about this. He should feel sick about it, but all he could feel was the heat in his guts, the painful throbbing of his cock and the soft of your skin pressed tight against his body.

A warm breath tickles your throat once again, feeling Neteyam inhale and exhale deeply, nosing your skin as if he tried to imprint your scent on his nostrils.

"I‘ll be quick, I promise", he groans, "Eywa, you smell good, r-really good."

As his mouth wanders to your jawline, kissing and sucking, his forehead comes to rest against your cheek and you gasp. He’s burning, his skin feels like it’s been set aflame. This is worse than any fever, worse than any rut.

"O-Okay", you finally agree, all resolve shattering to pieces.

Neteyam moves quicker than you were expecting. One of his hands wedges itself between your bodies, hastily pulling your loincloth to the side, just enough to gain access where he needed to. There’s no time, it seems, no time to take it slow as he fumbles with his own loincloth, flicking the fabric up and out of the way, pulling his leaking cock out from under his coverings and lining himself up with your entrance. He really couldn't think anymore, not of any consequences, not with all the blood pounding through his angry cock, desperation clinging to his body, making his mind hazy and eyes half lidded.

When he pushes your legs up with his free hand, folding you nearly in half, you’re spread wide open for him to push inside, inch after inch. The stretch as he buries himself to the hilt drives every single thought, every worry, every ounce of guilt right out of your head. Neteyam moans, he moans loud and wanton and it’s a sound of relief followed by a deep groan rumbling in his chest.

You never imagined that there was so much space inside of you, but your stepbrother happily claimed all of it, every last bit.

Eywa help him if he doesn’t savor this, because he didn’t know the next time he’ll be able to do this again, if he was even ever allowed to. You’re warm and wet and soft and tight, so tight. Great mother, it felt like his mind was going into overdrive as he began to thrust into you.

His face was still buried into the space between your throat and shoulder and he didn’t plan on moving anytime soon. He’d stay like this forever if he could. Neteyam wants every single breath he takes to be filled with your scent from now on. Whatever it was, that made him act like this, it made him so painfully aware of how sweet his baby sister smelled. How good she tasted, when he ran his tongue over her pulse point and how incredible she felt, wrapped around his cock like a little sleeve made just for him.

"T-Teyam, f-fuck!", it’s a high-pitched whine, followed by a little punched out noise that doesn’t sound like anything that’s ever come out of your mouth before. His movements are jerky and rough, all for the purpose of chasing his own pleasure. The obscene squelching sound from him pounding into your pussy, mixed with streams of moans filled the air around you within seconds.

"Sorry, sorry, I’m— fuck, I’m sorry. You just feel so good, can’t slow down", Neteyam groans into your ear, his words being the complete opposite of his actions. The movement of his thrust are deep and fast, knocking the air from your lungs and causing your eyes to roll all the way back into your head. With the way he was hammering his cock into you, you could feel the mushroomy head of it kissing your cervix over and over again, pummeling against your g-spot on the way.

It’s okay, you want to say. You would, if you were still capable of forming any words on your tongue that weren’t just mewls and curses and brabbled nonsense.

Neteyam was surely aiming to fuck the very soul out of you like this. Your hands clawed at his back, nails digging into his skin and holding on for dear life as you felt your cunt turning into a gooey mess, thanks to the mixture of his pre-cum and your own slickness leaking out of you already.

"So good, feels so good, thanì", you hear him moan next to your ear, fangs grazing your skin as he licks and nibbles on your shoulder. "O-Oh fuck, you feel amazing. So wet and t-tight."

Between the thrill of being caught and Neteyams brutal pace, it didn’t take long for you to hit your peak. His cock expertly finds all the places you couldn’t reach yourself, all the spots that make pleasure curl your toes and starbursts explode behind your eyelids. Neteyam licks the sweat from your collarbones like it’s something to be savored, moaning at the feeling of you squeezing his cock like you were trying to milk him for all it’s worth.

"Teyam, Teyam I’m close, you’re gonna make me come!"

Right on cue, Neteyam hiked your leg up higher around his waist. The new angle allowed him even deeper access and you throw your head back at the new sensation. The second you felt his cock throb inside of you, your orgasm crashed down upon you like a sheet of ice– your legs squeezing around his waist, arms tightening around his neck so much that he had trouble breathing. But that didn’t stop him from fucking you like it was the only thing you were made for.

"Gonna.. haa fuck, I’m gonna cum inside you."

Neteyam feels his orgasm building like he’s been waiting for it for years, like someone had edged him, like he hasn’t had a release in forever and then it hits him like it never has before.

"Take it, shit, just take it, take my cum!"

He squeezes his eyes shut, biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood, because if he didn’t, he would’ve latched onto your shoulder like a palulukan into its prey. His hips stutter, abs tensing and then he slams into you as deep as he could go, groaning your name as rope after rope of his cum fills you.

And then, the heat inside of him was gone.

As the last droplet of his seed was successfully pumped into you, Neteyam finally felt his head clear up and he came back to himself. The both of you stayed like that for just a moment, with him panting into your neck, both of you trying not to think about what you had just done.

When Neteyam finally pulls out of you, it’s gingerly, tenderly even, almost like he didn’t want to hurt you. As terribly sore and used as you felt, somehow there was a secret shard of happiness under it all. You wondered, if his coy smirk was any indication that he felt the same.

By the time Jake finally arrived, the only evidence of your sins was his cum dripping down your thighs, soaking the fabric of your loincloth.

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wososcripts · 4 months

Text

I've Been Getting Lost in Translation (Part Two)

(these kits are god awful but you didn't hear that from me)

stina blackstenius x reader; part one can be found here

Summary: You finally get to meet your girlfriend’s parents, but you aren’t sure they’re aware the two of you are more than just friends.

A/N: Here's part two finally! I hope it's worth the wait for you all lol, make sure you read the first part as well as that author's note for clarity! As usual, nothing I write is intended to speculate or infringe upon player's personal lives, it's all 100% fiction and done in good fun.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings⚠️: very very slight mentions of anxiety and self-harm behaviors, but it really isn't featured here more than a passing mention

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You could feel Stina's eyes on you as you came down the stairs and joined the group in getting ready to go, you felt them on you in the car, and once you got to the skating rink. She never seemed to not be looking at you, sending worried little glances your way that you just couldn't interact with right now if you wanted to keep it together.

"Here are Linnéa's extra skates." Stina's mom held out a pair of ice skates for you to grab. "I'm not sure they'll fit, but Stina said you were around the same size as her sister… otherwise you can rent a pair here."

She gave you a warm smile and left you to try them on, already lacing up her own and taking off on the ice.

It was a beautiful day, sunny and cold with a thick layer of snow on the ground from a couple of days ago. And the rink was amazing. It was well maintained, but still had the feeling of a pond you'd have skated on as a child.

Stina's sister came to sit down next to you, explaining some of the quirks with the skates. You had to pull the laces hard to get them to fit in the clasps at the top before you could tie them, she showed you, yanking on your ankle a little roughly for your liking.

"Linnéa, be careful with her foot!" You heard Stina call from the ice.

Linnéa waved her off, turning to you.

"Does it hurt?"

You shook your head.

"That ankle is just a bit sensitive. I broke it in June."

"Well the laces being tight will make sure that doesn't happen again," she laughed, then glanced to make sure Stina wasn't looking at you two and said something lowly to you. "How is she doing in London? I mean she says everything is going well, but it's hard to know when we're not there to see her."

You smiled, genuinely for the first time in hours.

"She's doing great. Everyone loves her, she's been playing fantastic this season, she gets along well with the coach and the players. I really don't think there's anything for you to worry about."

"It's good that she has you and Amanda there. She seems reserved but without a few good people around her I know she gets lonely."

"What are you two slow pokes waiting for?" Stina's father skated by, gesturing for you to come on.

Linnéa followed him, starting a conversation with him in Swedish you could hardly grasp onto. How this family managed to speak so quickly, you were lost on.

You joined the rest of them on the ice, trying to ignore your poor mood from earlier. Moping around was no way to make a first impression. So you tried to suck it up and let the joy of the moment overtake you. You hadn't skated in years, having played in Italy for a bit before moving to London. There never seemed to be enough time, or good rinks close by. And when you were back in Germany you mostly wanted to see your family and Laura.

You ended up skating with Stina’s nephew, a boy around seven. He was already impressively steady on his skates, something you would not have been able to say at his age. But still, he held your hand and talked your ear off in Swedish you only partially understood.

"Did you come with aunt Stina?" He asked, to which you nodded.

"We play for the same football team in England." You explained in your slow Swedish.

"Did you come here on a plane?" You nodded again, smiling.

"We flew here yesterday, from London."

The boy considered you for a moment.

"You speak funny," he proclaimed, letting go of your hand, "watch what I can do!"

And with that he skated in front of you, circling around you playfully as you stood still. You grinned at him, giving a round of applause when he was done.

“Hey,” you heard Stina come up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder as to not startle you.

You gave her a smile which she softly returned.

“What are you two up to?”

“He’s showing me his incredible skating skills,” You replied.

Stina’s nephew nodded and twirled around again, clearly looking for more praise.

Stina cheered him on, catching one of his hands and spinning him once more.

“Very impressive,” she praised, “Unfortunately we’ve got to go eat some lunch. It’s getting dark out.”

You looked up at the sky, having not realized that she was right, the sun was setting already. You checked your phone and saw it was barely one pm.

Stina’s nephew nodded and shot forward ahead of you two, rushing back to where his parents were.

“How are you doing?” Stina asked.

You could tell she was still unsettled by what had happened earlier in the bathroom by how careful she was with you, how she treated each interaction tentatively. You felt badly for making her worry, for turning this visit with her family into yet another stressful situation rather than the relaxing break you both needed.

“I’m doing all right.” You gave the hand on your shoulder a squeeze and started to skate in the direction of the exit, a little further away from her than you would normally.

You felt the distance seemingly in every stride you took, agonizing over your choice to move further from her. You were upset by the lack of any physical affection, and yet here you were removing even the chance that she might initiate it. It was self sabotage, you knew. Yet it was still difficult not to indulge in it. Whether she felt the distance as much as you did, you couldn’t know.

“Why does Aunt Stina’s friend speak so funny?” You heard Stina’s nephew ask his mother, to which you couldn’t help but chuckle as she scolded him lightly.

“She’s still learning Swedish, baby, she’s from Germany.”

“You’re from Germany?” The boy asked you once you were in front of him, skates in hand. He said it as if it were some far away land, not in the same continent.

You nodded and ruffled his hair a bit, giving him a smile. You sat down on the bench, unlacing your skates and indulging the boy as he asked you several questions about Germany and what it was like there. You noticed Stina had a firm watch on you as you started to take your left skate off—the one that Linnéa had tugged on. It was aching a bit, that was true. But you simply massaged it for a moment and stood up like you couldn't feel a thing.

“Thanks again for lending me the skates,” You said to Stina’s mother, giving them back carefully.

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The eight of you decided to eat at a small restaurant not far from the rink. Sunset was already in full force, vibrant orange and pink staining the sky around you.

Stina had borrowed her sister's car that morning, preferring not to be squished in the back seat all day. The drive over gave you a bit of privacy, which you spent in relative quiet, Stina's playlist playing softly through the car speakers. Her hand was on your thigh innocently, and every once in a while she glanced over. Maybe she expected you to say something. But you knew if you started now, you wouldn't be able to stop.

You were thankful for your sturdy sneakers as you stepped out of the car, a twinge in your ankle rippling up your leg. It was more sore than you would've expected, but nothing you were overly worried about. The doctor had warned you that some days might give you more trouble than others, and that was normal. You would just have to take care to ice it this evening before you went to bed.

And by the looks of it, Stina would be making sure you did anyway.

She was robbed of her chance to ask if it was bothering you by her nephew, who seemed to have taken a real liking to you. He came barreling at you, arms open for you to lift him up. You weren't all that tall, and he certainly had inherited his family's height, so lifting him was a bit complicated. Eventually the two of you decided on a piggy back after some awkward maneuvering.

"He likes you," Stina's brother commented, tickling his son lightly. "He's normally quite reserved around new adults."

You smiled at him, feeling your heart soar. This, this was what you wanted from the trip. You wanted Stina's family to love you, for her not to have to worry about you fitting in or being accepted.

"She's going to sit next to me!" The boy announced once the waiter had shown you to your booth.

"Do I need to be worried?" Stina joked, to which her nephew stuck out his tongue.

She returned the favor playfully.

"No need to fight, there's plenty of me to go around."

The booth wasn't all that big, which was how you explained Stina's closeness. Most of your right side was pressed right up against hers, something you initially tried to rectify, only to receive a strange look from her. You cursed yourself for how unsure you were being. You'd spent months like this before the two of you had started dating and it nearly drove you (and your teammates) crazy.

You let Stina order for you since she had been here before and she knew what you liked. The tiredness was beginning to hit you. It was dark outside now, and between skating for a few hours, entertaining a seven year old, and worrying over your relationship, you'd had quite the day. Thankfully you had ibuprofen in your bag in case of one of your headaches.

Whatever Stina had ordered you looked delicious when it came out. You dug in, realizing then how hungry you were. Usually you had a snack in between breakfast and lunch particularly on training days.

You were surprised to feel a hand on your knee a little while later. You were listening to a story her nephew was intently explaining to you as he colored in one of the books his mother brought for him, and suddenly it was there. It was something so completely normal you couldn't believe how much it shocked you. If anything, that was proof of how much you had gotten in your own head. Back home it would be impossible to imagine sitting next to Stina without her hand resting lightly on you somewhere. It helped ground her, she said.

But now, your thoughts were racing with every move she made. Stina's fingers drummed absentmindedly on your thigh, the rhythm of them distracting you slightly from her nephew. She didn't usually tap unless she was feeling fidgety, which meant she was anxious. Was Stina feeling something similar to what you were? Was it out of anxiety that she was keeping things secret? The idea of your relationship inspiring such emotions in your girlfriend made the lump in your throat that much bigger. Maybe she was picking up on your mood. Stina had always been very perceptive (because she spent so much time quietly watching, you often teased) and seemed to pick up on your moods without issue. But you’d been trying to hide this.

You caught her eye and sent her a quick smile. A piece of hair had fallen into her eyes and you wanted desperately to push it behind her ear as you normally would. But the gesture seemed too intimate now. It was as if you were in a glass cage, every move observed with the chance of exposing your feelings. But what was the problem in that, you asked yourself. You loved Stina, openly. Why were you letting this affect you so much?

Stina's sister declared that she wanted to do a bit of shopping after lunch, which the rest of the group was perfectly amicable to. It wasn’t all that late, and you’d get a chance to see the Christmas market all lit up. Stina's nephew certainly hadn't taken much convincing once Linnéa mentioned stopping at the toy store to look at something.

"Am I your favorite now?" Linnéa asked him, looking at you with a sly grin on her face.

"Yes!" The boy cried, smiling wide.

"You can't buy true connection, Linnéa," you teased, still helping to color.

"Can't buy connection." The boy repeated wisely. "I still like Stina's friend too."

You smiled and ruffled the boy's hair, suggesting quietly in his ear that you move to another page and make a drawing for Stina.

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Linnéa joined you and Stina in the car on the way back to their parent’s house, adding to the tension that had been building since the eight of you had gone shopping. Stina had stuck close to your side, and you’d done your best to act normally while keeping some distance. You needed to sort your head out, and being close to her wasn’t helping. Thankfully her nephew provided a good excuse to be tugged in all sorts of directions—he had decided you were his favorite once more, leaving Linnéa to hang behind with her siblings.

Once you had reached the Christmas market, after a short detour in the toy store where you had agreed to get matching dragon plushies for you and the young boy, each of you wandered off on your own. You, Stina’s brother, and her nephew headed first for the big tree that had been decorated in the square while the rest went to get something hot to drink. You had managed to sneak off under the guise of having to find the toilet, Stina’s brother covering for you if you needed. You wanted to get a small gift for Stina, something in addition to what you’d already purchased. Most of it was back in London since bringing it all on the plane was a hassle.

You’d found a perfect gift at a small stall tucked away near the edge of the market where an older woman was selling vintage jewelry. You picked through it slowly at first, not sure you would find anything. Most of it was too gaudy for Stina, and too impractical. But then you found a simple pendant with two stones in the middle—an amethyst and an opal, each of your birth stones, set in a complex circular pattern that reminded you a bit of some of the celtic designs Katie had shown you. You had purchased it immediately, no matter that it was overpriced.

Now you were sat listening to Linnéa’s music quietly as the three of you drove, trying not to nod off. You were unsuccessful, because the next thing you remembered was being jolted awake by Linnéa’s door falling shut. You heard Stina chuckle next to you and put a hand on your shoulder, likely amused by how suddenly you had shot up. You chuckled along with her and patted her hand, putting your coat back on to brave the cold once more.

“Is your ankle bothering you?” Stina asked you quietly as you all began to walk back to the house for dinner preparations.

You thought that you had been hiding the slight limp in your walk well, certainly nobody else had noticed, but nothing escaped your girlfriend apparently.

“Only a bit. I’ll ice it later and it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“You should’ve said something if it was hurting, I told Linnea to be careful—” she was beginning to ramble, but you cut her off.

“Stina, it’s fine. I said I’m fine. I know what I can and cannot handle.”

It was a lie, and the both of you knew it. You were a stubborn bastard. Stina had been with you through your recovery, through every incident where you pushed yourself too hard only to have to face the consequences. She’d found you on the kitchen floor, comforted you after a physio session, seen you train with the team for the first time again. It was insulting to allege she didn’t know when too much was too much.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, already feeling bad for snapping at her. It wasn’t fair, she didn’t even know what was wrong and you were what? Punishing her?

“I just don’t want to see you hurt again. Do you know how horrible that was? To see you in that much pain?” Stina’s eyes were glossy with just the memory.

You weren’t sure what to say to that. You and Stina didn’t talk much about your injury and recovery. It was still too fresh, barely more than a couple months old. The crack of your ankle, the blood, her tears, her gentle shaking hands, it was all still at the front of your mind.

You were saved from having to formulate a response by Stina’s mother calling her to the kitchen. She left you, only looking back once to give you a slight smile, showing that the two of you were okay. But you knew the time to confront what was going on needed to come quickly.

You sat with Stina’s brother on the sofa and watched some Swedish Christmas program mindlessly. Mostly you were thinking about how to go about talking to Stina later. “Directness is key”, Laura's voice reminded you. You just had to say it, without blaming anyone. Just focus on yourself, your feelings.

It wasn't clear how long you sat there quietly before dozing off again, but Stina’s nephew was the one to wake you for dinner, doing so by climbing into your lap.

"It's dinner time." He said, poking at your shoulder.

You forced your eyes open, giving him a drowsy smile.

“Okay, Prinzi” you replied, picking him up off your lap so you could stand. He managed to hang on to your side though, and you ended up lifting him onto your hip anyway.

Fuck, you cursed silently as you noticed your ankle was even more tender than when you had fallen asleep. You’d have to check for bruising later and keep off it for the rest of the night. But still, you carried Stina’s nephew to the table with ease, setting him in his seat next to his mother who shot you a sheepish smile.

“Tired, aren’t you?” You heard a voice behind you, and then a gentle hand at your back.

It was Stina, who smelled of something sweet in the kitchen. You wanted to lean back into her and not move for the rest of the night. Instead you just nodded.

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“You’ve been playing babysitter all day, that might be part of it.” She smiled.

You nodded in agreement, a smile on your face as well.

"You're so good with him," she whispered into your ear, "it's adorable."

You had caught her taking pictures of you with her nephew a couple times throughout the day, and now, as you briefly as her phone light up with notification, it seemed she had set one of them as her lockscreen.

"I try my best. He's a good kid."

"Well, he's in good hands."

Dinner was delicious, but relatively uneventful. After an entire day together everyone was happy to sit quietly and enjoy the food. Stina’s nephew joked with you a couple times, still wanting all of your attention, but even he seemed to be winding down for the night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the table was cleared and the dishes had been washed (a task delegated to Stina’s brother this time), the group splintered off. Linnéa was going out to meet with a few friends, Stina’s brother and his family had to go home before it got too late, and Stina’s parents had settled in the living room. The two of you were welcome to join, they offered, for a nightcap. But it was clear that maybe you and Stina needed some alone time.

So you bid everyone good night, thanking them for a wonderful day, and giving Stina’s nephew a big hug goodbye (even though you would be seeing him the next day). You tried to prepare for what you knew was a difficult discussion coming your way. In and out, you tried to remind yourself.

“Go ahead, I’ll be in in a minute,” Stina told you when you reached the bedroom door.

You nodded, thankful for the extra minute to think. The room was quiet around you. You felt the quilt beneath your hands, taking another deep breath. You didn’t need to overthink this. It was simple. And Stina loved you, you reminded yourself.

There was a knock at the door, after which Stina slowly opened it and slipped inside. She had a bag of ice in her hands, presumably for your ankle. Already you felt tears spring to your eyes.

“Here, for your foot.”

She lifted your leg, grabbing a chair for you to prop it up on, and pressed the ice to it.

“So,” Stina paused, still standing before you, “What’s wrong?” You opened your mouth, but were cut off before you could say anything. “And don’t say it’s nothing, I can tell it isn’t. And I want to know, I want you to tell me, whatever it is.”

You chuckled internally at the similarity to Laura’s demand earlier. Stina knew you too well for you to hide from her either. That made your heart ache a little bit.

Your lack of response seemed to signal to Stina that you needed more convincing because she knelt down in front of you, taking your hands in hers.

“What were you doing in the bathroom earlier? Why did you look so upset? All day, I can see you trying to hide it, but I know you’re hiding something. It hurts me too, to see you like that. It’s like a thorn in my ribs.”

Your lip trembled, and you bit down hard on your cheek until you could feel blood in your mouth. It rushed onto your tongue, the metallic taste distracting you from the urge to cry. Stina had caught your gaze, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

“Do your parents know we’re together?” Your voice held steady as you asked.

Whatever she had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. Stina let out an airy chuckle, looking relieved. You brought your gaze to the floor, eyes wetting rapidly, which Stina quickly noticed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” She brought a hand up to your face, brushing the hair away from it. She sat next to you, moving up from where she was kneeling, and pulled you into her. “Look at me.” She put a finger under your chin, drawing your gaze to hers. The sight of your eyes nearly broke her heart. She hadn’t seen your face crumple in on itself like this since you were injured. The idea that something she had done could have caused you pain like that made her feel indescribably awful.

“Of course they know, of course they do.”

You let out a sigh of relief, putting your head in your hands. You felt a hand on the back of your neck, rubbing the skin there tenderly.

“Then why have you been so…distant all day? And yesterday? This morning at breakfast, I couldn’t even hold your hand. It seemed like you didn’t want your family to see us together. I thought maybe you… I don’t know, that you were unsure of us, or afraid, or—”

“That’s not it, I promise,” she said, wiping a tear away that had fallen from your eye. Fuck, you hated crying this much. “It’s just odd for me to be affectionate in front of my parents. They never were very touchy with each other in front of us, so it just feels like some unspoken rule. And then when my brother married his wife, they were the same way. But I promise, tomorrow I’ll try—”

You shook your head. You could tell Stina was upset too now, and you didn't want that. That wasn't the point of this. Tears continued to stream from your eyes, and you continued to swipe harshly at them.

“No, no. It’s all right. I don’t need you to be affectionate in front of them, I understand. It just seemed strange when I didn’t know the reason. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

Stina seemed at a loss for a moment, truly shocked. She pulled you into a kiss, pressing her lips firmly against yours once, twice, three times before pulling back.

“You’re in this house too. And we’re a team: you don’t just have to do things the way we do. I’m supposed to meet you in the middle, okay? We’re in a relationship—if something hurts you, or is important to you, I want to know.”

You nodded, squeezing her hand as a small thanks. The taste of blood trickled through your mouth, reminding you of the wound. You did your best to swallow it down.

“Come on, let’s get you into something more comfortable,” Stina said, helping you up.

She opened the dresser, looking for some of the pants you had brought. When she turned around, in her hands were a pair of grey sweats and one of her long sleeve Swedish national team shirts.

“Sit,” she requested, pointing at the bed.

You followed, sitting and allowing her to help you undress. It was totally non-sexual, Stina was wholly concerned in caring for you. Once you were dressed in the casual clothes she had picked out, Stina returned to your side, your ankle in her lap as she massaged the skin gently.

“Was that what made you think I hadn’t told them?”

“It seems silly… but I also overheard them talking to your aunt in the kitchen last night.” You took a breath, trying to banish the tears for good. “I know my Swedish isn’t that good, but I was doing my best to keep up, and they kept referring to me as your friend, your friend, Stina’s friend.”

Stina looked at you, confused.

“They did? What did they say?”

You did your best to repeat the word, cringing at your own pronunciation.

“Väninna?” She repeated, and you nodded. “Who told you that means friend?”

“Amanda.” you replied, “She said it was like a female friend.”

Stina shook her head, laughing.

“What?” You asked, a bit indignant.

“It does mean that. But it also means girlfriend. I don’t think Amanda thought you’d ever run into the word. It’s a bit old fashioned.” Stina explained.

“Oh…” you said, feeling very stupid, and very relieved.

“Come here,” Stina said, leaning back against the headrest and gesturing for you to settle against her. She grabbed the bag of ice on your foot and shifted it to lie comfortably again. “I’m sorry you had to go through the day thinking I’d invited you here under friendly pretenses.”

You could tell she was making fun of you, just a little, but that there was sincerity in her voice too. One of her hands crept under your shirt, resting comfortingly on your stomach.

“I hope you don’t treat all your friends like you did yesterday morning.” You replied, snuggling closer to her. For the first time in days your head wasn’t full of doubts, and you could relax wholly. You just wanted to enjoy her warmth around you. You had faith that tomorrow would be great, that you could finally enjoy your time here the way you were meant to.

She chuckled, hugging you closer to her and pressing a kiss to your upward-turned lips.

“No, definitely not. I usually have better decision making skills around most people.”

“I guess I’m just special then, huh?”

#hope you all enjoy !#and happy new years eve-ish #arsenal x reader #stina blackstenius #stina blackstenius x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #laura freigang #stina blackstenius imagine #my writing

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satorubi · 1 year

Text

𝟒𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄 — ft. geto suguru

· ₊ ⊹ synopsis — geto loses his virginity.

「❀」 word count ! : 2.7k

「❀」 pairing : geto x fem! reader

「❀」 content warning ! : minors do not interact, virgin killer! reader, soft dom geto, reader instructs geto :p, sort of whiny geto, pussy whipped geto, cowgirl, missionary, slight choking, blowjob, protected sex.

「❀」 author’s note ! : oh my god i’m so so excited to share this. i haven’t written anything for my bby in so long, excuse any mistakes, this hasn’t been beta read. i thought of this randomly after listening to subby asmr yes i did. so so sorry ab the ending, ik it’s rushed, but i needed to finish this </3 special thank you to @venusflytrapstar for helping my tiny writers block. ur a gem.

the majority of geto's evening seemed to be going well. your and geto’s anniversary was a success after a beautiful meal at your preferred restaurant—his treat—and a romantic stargaze in the hill where your first date occurred.

well, that is, up until the two of you made it back home.

without saying anything, you had left the room and entered the bedroom. he trails you in confusion, a twinge of anxiety in his stomach. he’d considered whether he might have upset you in some way, but as soon as he opened the door, a much more exciting surprise greeted him.

his girlfriend—you— naked.

“you look.. fucking beautiful.”

you lift your hands up to your chest, kneading your breasts in your palms as you eye his every move. geto doesn’t take his eyes off of you, his piercing gaze never leaving your own as you part your lips to speak, “and you look nervous. am i making you nervous, geto?”

he swallows, “a little bit, yeah.” he laughed, masking the cracking pitch of his voice, before losing himself in thought. you were aware that he was a virgin. you knew of it months before you started dating. it’s not that he didn't want to—you were absolutely gorgeous—but he was afraid of looking like an idiot. he didn't want you to think of him as an immature, inexperienced loser.

but to him, that’s exactly what he was.

“why’re you nervous? scared you’ll cum too quick?”

well, that was one of the things on the list.

“very funny,” he utters. getting up from your position, you inch your way toward geto, pressing your bare chest against his clothed one. geto couldn’t hold back the sudden arousal sitting in his pants. his cock was practically petting your thigh, and it gave him goosebumps.

“you’re so hard. i can feel it.”

untying the draw strings of his sweatpants, you reach a hand into his boxers, rubbing and cupping his balls in your palms— heavy, “they’re so full, baby. why don’t we fix that, hm?” your question got lost in translation the minute you began to lower down onto your knees. as your skin hits the cool, wooden floor, you kiss him through his boxers. the gray fabric felt soft on your lips, but geto’s hard on simply ruined that.

geto had already reached his peak when you eventually stopped teasing him, leaving you with a stiff cock in your hand. he was big and quite girthy. pretty. his length was further defined by veins that protruded from the base all the way to the skin before his tip. geto was shuddering in your grasp, and although he was trying to shield it, you read right through him.

“god, baby. you’re so handsome like this. i should've done this a long time ago, don’t you think?” your teasing antics seemed to be successful. each syllable you spoke was accompanied by a little groan for the man above you. he had his arms resting beside him with his fist bawled in what looked like anticipation. he was waiting for you to make some sort of movement, but you wanted to take it slow tonight.

“yn, do something please,” he whines we’re humoring you. you begin to pump him at a slow pace. the pre-cum beginning to leak from his tip made the process all the more smoother, the self made lubricant giving you a boost.

“something like what? you have to use your words, geto.”

geto could almost roll his eyes at your games but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t making him fall apart. you hadn’t even stuck it in your mouth yet and he wondered how difficult it’ll be when he finally gets the chance to cram you full of him. call him a creep, but he always pondered about what it would feel like— your walls, gripping and pulling on him as you cry out his name for more, your tits bouncing with every thrust, and your body reacting to the pressure of an orgasm that he brought you too.

perfect, it would be perfect.

“in your mouth..” he finally answers. it was only a matter of time before your mouth met the tip of his cock, starting off with a slow lick to the slit. you then move to the base, kissing the skin near his shaft and moaning while doing so. geto didn’t know this, but you were getting more pleasure out of this than he was. you just couldn’t wait to see the look in his eyes when he empties himself in your mouth. and hey, depending on the playful mood you’re in, you might even tease him some more.

“you’re so pretty. so, so fuckin’ pretty.”

sappy. typical geto.

you suck on his cock as if it’s a pacifier, placing your hands on his thighs as you bob your head back and forth. the suckling sounds and your grip had geto stumbling back a bit, his hand finding the wall as he leaned back to watch you work your magic. he was as hard as a brick and your enthusiasm about it all wasn’t helping his case.

“wait, wait, wait, baby- fuck!”

you didn’t wait, you just kept going— and now, at a faster pace. you were gawking around him, your throat closing and then opening right back up again. it made everything worse when you made eye contact with him. geto was already in love, but this? this was heaven— his heaven.

“stop looking at me like that,” he mumbles, “i’ll cum soon-“

you release him to catch your breath and share a few words, “that’s the goal, baby. can you be a good boy and cum ‘f me,” you ask, swallowing him once again. as your throat grew accustomed to expanding and shutting around him, it became easier to take in more of him. with tears threatening to spill from your eye sockets, you squeezed your thumbs and did your best to get as much of him into your mouth as you could.

tiny crescent marks tainted your palms and the waterworks were rolling. geto hadn’t said a full sentence in a minute, making your eyes open to shoot him a glance.

and god, was he beautiful.

he hadn’t even gotten the chance to slip inside and he was already so sensitive. his eyebrows were furrowed, his bottom lip was sandwhiched in between his teeth, and his eyes had fallen just enough to look directly into yours. he hadn’t even realized how out of it he was.

you pull your mouth away from him to resume pumping him like earlier. with a drool covered mouth, you smile and politely say, “c’mon suguru, i know you wanna’ let it go.”

“fuck, fuuck! i do, i do. please make me cum, yn- shit!”

begging. it was exactly what you wanted to hear, and now that you’d achieved your goal, it was only right for your good boy to be rewarded, “yeah? i know you do. i can see it all over your pretty face. you’re so cute when you’re needy,” you giggle.

just then, geto started to fuck into your hand, desperate to finally unravel everything he’d composed. deciding to let him have this one, you allow him to ride out his orgasm. you’d done quite enough, and seeing him this way was much, much more entertaining.

“i’m cumming, i’m cumming. fuuuck me- yes!”

you yearned to hear more of the groans coming from his mouth. when his cries finally subsided, you rose from your knees and walked him over to the bed.

now, this was both nerve-wracking and exciting. geto didn’t really have a clue what to do other than the basics; move your hips and keep your rhythm. yes, he’d watched porn before, but those were never true to life. the actors were primarily simply doing what they do best, which is acting. all of it was a scam. the only knowledge to be attained was how to do everything incorrectly.

“i don’t know how to do this,” he blurts out, catching your attention before you could make any further movements, “i really like you- love you, actually. i don’t wanna’ fuck this shit up, y’know?”

you smile, sensitive eyes blinking up at him, “you won’t, trust me. you have an excellent teacher,” you smirk and take your place on the mattress. he was angsty, but he trusted you, and he wouldn’t do anything he wasn’t comfortable with— you wouldn’t allow him to.

he suddenly feels your cool hands cover his cock with a condom. he would’ve surely appreciated a fair warning before hand, because the same rush he felt earlier had returned and so did his boner. “can you take your shirt off for me?” you ask, patting the mattress for him to take a seat soon after. “i don’t want you to do all the work,” he whines, joking you and resting his head against your pink pillow.

“it’s your first time. it’s okay to be a pillow princess.”

“take that back, for real.”

after sharing a laugh, the time finally comes. your pink acrylics wrap around geto’s cock and you feel him flinch at your touch. your hands were still cold, but your pussy would be warming him up soon.

“fuck, geto. look at you, fitting right in, baby.”

putting him inside wasn't difficult, but keeping him inside would surely be challenging. despite how much of a godsend it was, you were just so wet. it was just so sexy seeing him in this position. surely you enjoyed being tossed around occasionally, but controlling a man's orgasm had a distinct quality to it.

“shit, princess.” geto’s hands hold on to your hips as you slowly begin to glide up and down his cock. you started with just the tip first, getting him used to your walls. you were trying your best not to squeeze him too hard, but it was difficult not to.

although it was just the tip, it was driving you absolutely crazy, “how do i feel, suguru?” you ask, hands grazing his chest and shoulders as you gradually accept more of him inside of you. your tits we’re hanging so prettily in his face, nipples harder than ever. the urge to shove one in his mouth came over you quickly but was soon suppressed. you wanted him to make progress on his own.

“so good. s-so motherfuckin’ good,” he groans and it was almost like he read your mind. to your surprise, geto latches his mouth on to one of your breasts. his tongue swirled around your nipple as he sucked and tugged on it like it was his last meal.

and he couldn’t show favorites.

moving his hands from your hips, he cups your tits and his hands and kneads either. sucking on one while massaging the other, “keep going,” he utters, letting go to take a breath, “keep fuckin’ me, just like that.”

that caused you to show out now, your hips rotating in circles as you threw your ass back— now slamming you down onto him a bit harder, “just like this?”

“yes, baby- fuck!” he closes his eyes and wraps his arms around your waist. kisses are placed on your neck and chest before geto quickly buries his head between your tits. his man-bun was starting to fall apart, and so was he. you start to feel geto pulse inside of you and you knew he’d be cumming soon.

“you wanna’ cum? hm? it’s okay, suguru. i know i’m making you feel so good. it’s alright to let go.”

only then did he start to thrust upward to mirror the motion of your hips. his cock was now hitting the sweet spot much more quickly thanks to your power and his combined, “i wanna’ cum, pretty girl. please make me c-cum,” he chants several pleas as he slams your hips down onto his lap. he was more than just needy, he was desperate.

he was so close and you were bouncing on his cock like it was life or death. it became impossible for him to hold back from the buildup. geto hardly gave you a chance to speak before taking the plunge to pin you down. he needed to fuck you, and he was completely bottoming out. while he was shifting positions, he was too greedy to stop. you could still feel him pushing into your cunt even while in the process of laying you against the sheets.

“suguru- baby, you were so close-“

it was his first time and all, and maybe pleasuring him for the night was your goal, but he couldn’t help himself. you looked too good, and you felt even better. you’d already given him an enormous about of pleasure, now it was your turn.

“just let me fuck you, baby. i promise i’ll give it to you right, please open up ‘f me.”

you didn’t know where the wave of confidence came from, but you definitely didn’t hate it. his sensual, yet assertive manner had you ready to submit already, “if you need any help i’ll be right here to- oh fuck!”

your words were abruptly cut short when geto sent you a hard stroke. it was like he already knew exactly where to poke at, “shit, baby. wrappin’ around me like a glove,” he states, keeping a steady eye on your facial expressions.

your expressions were creased with both pleasure and anguish. geto gave you strong, prolonged thrusts that caused the mattress beneath you to squeak, as if forgetting how enormous he was already. your entire body was rocking at the same rhythm of the your skin slapping against one another’s.

“s-suguru, ‘s so deep..inside m-me,” you stutter, lifting your head to look at him continuously fuck you dumb. he was chasing his orgasm and yours, hoping to be able to finish with your cream coating his dick till you had nothing left to give.

“you’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you? letting me fuck you like this to get myself off, but you wanna’ cum too, don’t you?”

you could do nothing more than nod in agreement while biting your bottom lip. by watching his cock move in and out of you, you were nearly put into a trance. more of your essence spilled onto him with each retraction he made.

“‘m gonna’ cum, suguru. i love you- love your dick s-so much.” slurring your speech made it seem as though geto was performing much better than he believed he was. with his hand raised to your neck and a light pressure applied to the side near your ear, geto, whose orgasm was trailing closely behind your own, was making eye contact with you.

he could feel your small hand hold on to his wrist for support. he was fucking you enough to make your eyes cross, whimpers broken just enough to arouse him some more, “m’ cumming, daddy. ‘m cumming-fuck! yess, ooh!”

he spilled everything he had into the condom after hearing the nickname, which was more than enough for him. the warm liquids could still be felt in your stomach even though he wasn't precisely filling you.

“fuuuck, yn. i fuckin’ love you. so much, pretty girl, so much.” hurrying his head into your shoulder, he continues to fuck you until you’re ready to cum again.

and you do.

you felt completely drained, not only from the hard work from earlier, but from geto’s cock basically wringing out all of the cum you could produce. geto pulled out and left a smile on your face, “not too bad for a virgin, huh?”

you smile, “not too bad. not too bad at all.

©️ SUUNMIC 2023

tags : @venusflytrapstar @hiraizens @ryujnn @takemichiluvr

#𓂅 🏹 saturn’s novels ☁️#geto x reader #geto x female reader #geto x fem! reader #geto smut #jjk smut #— jjk <33 #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 1 year

Note

How would 141 + los vaqueros boys + konig react to reader doing the tiktok trend where they're fighting an imaginary person at the back of the car 💀

like this vid: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS89bQG6j/

I love this trend it's so funny to me. I used Spanishdict for the spanish so lmk if anything is improperly translated and I'll fix it

141 + Los Vaqueros + König reacting to a reader fake fighting

Price

Confused, very confused

You're recording obviously and he notices but doesn't say anything because he knows that's just something you do

Until you start acting like you're fighting someone in the backseat of the car

"What?" He'd looked at you and then in the back seat.

"They're wanting to fight so I'm fighting." You told him, trying hard not to break.

Price would just look back very concerned and confused

"Who? Are you okay?" He'd ask and then notice you trying to not laugh.

"N-No! They're shit talking me, say something!"

He still doesn't exactly know what you're doing but now that he knows it's a joke he'll play along

"Piss off you fucking muppets."

At that point you lost it and it took you a while to recover

Ghost

Didn't know what you were doing but knew you were about to do something weird

He noticed you were recording and he was waiting for you to do something

When you started throwing punches in the air at the backseat, he barely blinked an eye

"What's going on back there?"

"They think they can fight me and win when we both know that's not the truth." You said with confidence and he nodded as he glanced at the backseat

"Tell 'em."

He’s like a hype man. He won’t participate but he’s going to tell you to beat their metaphorical ass

Eventually you’ll break and start laughing and that when he’s asks what you’re doing

Soap

He was already acting goofy because you started recording, he’s like to act dumb for the camera specifically for you

And his moods are extremely infectious so you start acting goofy too

So when you start swinging at the backseat, acting as if someone’s fighting you he’s laughing but ready to join

“Who’re we fighting?” He was so ready to join in.

“The assholes in the back seat!” You said with fake anger.

“Fuck them!”

Once he starts swinging you are fighting hard to not laugh and you’re both pretending to fight in the back seat

He's cursing them out and your trying to catch up with the insults as well

He’s got your back even if there’s nobody there

Gaz

“What’re you doing?” He asked watching you put up the camera.

He’s curious about what you’re about to do but when you just start doing normal stuff he just looks away

Then you start acting as if someone’s attacking you and you’re fighting back, you’ve kicked in his fight or flight

When he looks back to see nothing he’s a little annoyed

“There’s nothing there.”

“Yes there is! They’re trying to fight me.”

He’s so confused and the face he gives you makes you laugh

After you explained what you’re doing he just scoffs and calls you weird

Don’t worry he’s got your back in a real fight

Alejandro

Confused like Price but he's also acting a little goofy for the camera as well

He likes to pretend he's checking himself out on your camera sometimes, just so you have a video of him

He doesn't even question when you start recording, just starts acting foolish because it makes you smile

However, when you start to to pretend that someone is pulling your hair and you start to swing he gets concerned

"¿Qué carajo?" He exclaimed as he looked at you with equal confusion and concern

"There's asshole in the backseat trying to fight me." You explained and he glanced back to see no one

"There's no one back there, cariño." He assured you with concern, not quite seeing the attempt to keep your smile away.

"Yes there is and they're talking shit about me, you gonna let them?" You gave him an expectant look.

He's still confused but you want him to say something so he will

"Hey, back off cabrón."

You started laughing and he was still confused but just went along with it

Rudolfo

Concerned and a little camera shy

He strikes me as someone who might not like to be in front of the camera or to takes pictures

For you though, he'll do it because he understands that you might want a picture of him

So he asks you what you're doing and what you want him to do as you set up the camera

You just tell him to sit there so that's what he does

Until you start acting like you're fighting someone in the backseat and he gets concerned

"¿Qué haces?" He asks so concerned that you almost want to stop.

"The people in the back want to fight so I'm showing them how I can fight." You explained and he looked in the backseat.

He looked back there before he held your face in his hands

"Whoever is back there is not worth the effort, mi vida."

After that you quickly had to tell him it was a joke and he was a little embarrassed about how he reacted

(If someone was back there though he would've thrown hands)

König

Confused, concerned but you make him feel a lot less weird

He doesn't like being on camera and it's really hard for him to not act awkward when you start recording

He tries his best to just silently watch you to see what you're doing, keeping himself out of view as much as he can

(which is difficult since he's in a car)

However when you start swinging he's looking at you like you've gone mad

"What are you doing?" He wondered as he looked in the backseat and then at you.

"Fighting the haters who are trying to show me up." You said and threw a few punches at the air.

"What?"

He sounded so confused that he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you away from the backseat

You continued to pretend that you were fighting someone until he couldn't take it anymore and made you tell him if everything was okay

As soon as you told him the truth, he gave you a weird look, amused and just laughed

"¿Qué carajo?" ("What the hell?")

cabrón (fucker)

cariño (love)

¿Qué haces? (What are you doing?)

A/N: Hope this was okay!

#captain john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #alejandro x reader #rodolfo x reader #konig x reader #mw2 x reader #mw2 imagine #mw2 2022

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ladynaberrie · 2 months

Text

spare a crumb, I'll take it

Pairing: Kix x Translator!Reader

WC: 2k

Rating: M (no smut/spicy content but discussion of sex)

You head to 79s with your favorite unit. Kix walks you home.

part 1 part 2 part 3

Kix is going to lose his mind.

It’s been hours, and yet each and every time you get up, his eyes zero in on your legs. He can’t help it. Really.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen bare legs before. But it’s the first time he’s seen your bare legs. (To be fair you do have tights on under your dress, but they’re fishnets; they’re also driving him insane). Part of him wants to strangle Jesse for inviting you to 79s while they’re planetside on Coruscant.

But a larger part of him is thrilled his brother had pity on him because now he gets to see you out of your uniform, and he’s losing it. He thinks you need to wear this every day. Fuck the GAR and their drab uniform; you’re glowing like this. And your legs…

His gaze drops back down to said offenders as you make your way back from the bar.

You’re sipping on your drink, plunking a beer down in front of him.

“Looked like you were getting a little low.” Kix’s face heats up as he glances at the way your lips wrap around your straw. What is wrong with him?

As you slide in next to Fives, Echo snickers at Kix, who is stuck watching your mouth.

“Hey, nothing for me?” he hears Fives ask. You snort, taking another sip of your drink, and Kix manages to drag his eyes to the foam that’s settling at the top of his beer.

“Listen, Jesse was gonna get you something, but I’m afraid we’ve lost him to a Twi’lek for the night. But you don’t need anymore to drink, Fives. Back me up, doctor.” Your foot taps lightly against Kix’s calf.

He jerks back to attention, grimacing a little. He’s a solider, he shouldn’t be stunned into stupidity by you, and yet his eyes hover towards your lips anyway.

“Not technically a doctor.” You pout a little at his rebuttal, foot still gently knocking into his calf. He’s so fucked.

“No fun,” you whine. Kix’s jaw clenches. He knows he’s playing right into your hand, but he can’t stop himself.

“I am plenty fun.” He does his best to ignore the way Echo shakes his head, pitying him. But you're delighted, jumping to your feet.

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

Kix is being pulled up and to the dance floor before he can process what’s happening. Gone is the safety of sitting at a booth, and instead, he’s surrounded by throngs of people. He can't even cower inside his bucket, as he left it sitting with his brothers' in a shiny set of four on the table.

But his anxieties are quickly forgotten about when you lightly drape your arms around his neck. Oh no, all he can focus on now is you.

The confidence you exuded earlier has vanished, but only a slight pinch in between your brows indicates what could possibly be going on in your head.

“Hi,” you say quietly, barely audible over the thumping music.

“Hi,” Kix answers back, doing his best to gently rest his hands on your waist.

“This ok?” you ask. He knows this answer is important. It’s his chance to opt-out, to deescalate this to something strictly platonic, something professional and GAR approved.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, mouth moving before he can make a rational decision. Fuck.

You just beam up at him. “Cool.”

And your hips begin to move to the music, but you stay pressed against him.

Kix inhales unsteadily, slowly trying to move in sync with you. It’s hard with everyone around (he swears he can feel Rex staring holes into the back of his head, and he bailed on their night out).

So he shuts his eyes, trying to move his body on beat, trying to just feel you and the music. It's some sort of synth-pop from a Coruscanti local that's been everywhere recently. But music aside, Kix feels like he’s on fire when you dance this close to him.

But eventually, you untangle yourself from him, movements becoming a little wider, a little bigger as you dance, lost in whatever you’re feeling; Kix orbits around you slowly, happy to be basking in your glow, happy you want him near.

He’s not sure how long the two of you dance. Surely longer than he normally would stay out with his vode, but he can’t bear to leave your side; the thought of someone else taking his spot makes his skin crawl. So he dances and dances until he aches a little, and he’s rewarded when you wrap your arms around his neck again and lean against him.

“Tired,” you bemoan, eyes shut as your head rests against him.

Kix ignores the way his heart races in his chest, and he shoves down the embarrassment that rises when he realizes you can probably tell. He just sways gently with you, enjoying the moment.

“I’ll take you home.” Again, the words come out before he can stop them, and he panics a little as you still. But then you lift your head from his chest, eyes wide and soft as you gaze at him.

“Really?” He nods, thumb mindlessly stroking your back. You drag him back to the table, where Echo and Jesse sit with a Twi’lek and Pantoran woman he doesn’t know. Fives is long gone by now, helmet missing from the lineup.

Despite the urge to put it on, Kix leaves his with Echo and Jesse, mentally begging one of them to take it back to the barracks. He doesn't want to look at you obscured by plastoid and glass.

“Bye, guys. Kix’s taking me home,” you say, voice coming out louder than you think. You’re holding onto Kix’s arm tightly, and he recognizes a bleary look in your eyes.

How much did you have to drink? You seemed fine earlier, just tired if anything. He mentally kicks himself for not keeping track. Some medic he is.

“Yeah, yeah. Making sure you get home in one piece,” he mumbles, face warm at how openly affectionate you’re right now. Jesse smirks at him, and Kix’s eyes drop to the ground.

He’s on autopilot as you direct him to an air taxi and around the subsequent blocks that are in between the air taxi drop-off and your apartment complex. When you stop at your building, he frowns. Sure, it’s on a mid-level but your safety is of the utmost priority, and this building’s security is not cutting it.

He’s eyeing about 10 different paths a faceless attacker could take before he realizes you're dragging him forward and through the doors of the building. That’s fine. He should make sure you should make it to your unit. That’s it. No other reason.

When you’re at your door, you drag your fingernails up and down his plastoid-covered arm, nevertheless sending shivers down his spine.

“Do you wanna come in?” you ask, your free hand already typing in the code to your room. He doesn’t have much of a choice as you tug him into your little apartment.

He can scope out the place. Make sure the premises is safe. And then that’s it. Back to his bunk.

While you kick off your heels and collapse onto the couch, Kix takes in your apartment. He’s struck by how you everything is. From the artwork on the wall to the colored kitchen appliances, everything feels like you. If he tries hard enough he can picture you haggling for your lamps, and petting different rugs until you picked the softest one.

It’s so full of life and color here. Not at all regulation.

At some point you flipped to your stomach, choosing to watch him silently, eyes all soft and demure. Kix is struck by how intimate this all feels, and anxiety bubbles up inside of him as he feels very out of place. A hard-cut monster bred for war in your soft little apartment.

“I should probably get going,” Kix says reluctantly, rubbing his head. “They’re going to assume the worst.” His tone darkens a little, and Jesse’s smirks and Fives’ laugh echo and resonate in his head.

“I don’t mind that.”

Your voice cuts through the noise in his head, silencing everything. He stares at you, and the way you’re looking at him. With half-lidded eyes and a partially open mouth, you look pleased and in a mood to say things without a filter. Kix doesn’t miss the way you push your chest out slightly towards him. He inhales sharply, throat feeling dry.

Something hot stirs to life in Kix’s gut, and he aches at those four words. You like the idea that his brothers think he’s fucking you. The thought of the implications burns bright and fast through him. His jaw tenses.

“Well I mean-” you continue, misunderstanding his silence.

“I do,” he cuts you off firmly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I do mind.”

The quiet sits heavy in the air for a second, and then you deflate, crestfallen at the way he shut you down. Your eyes glue themselves to the floor as you shift your body to try and subconsciously make yourself smaller on the couch. (Kix feels like a pervert noticing the way your dress shifts to reveal more skin). He sighs trying to think of how to explain this to you right now.

“I mean that in the sense that I care about your reputation, as well as my own,” Kix explains, wanting to undo whatever hurt he causes.

“I don’t want them thinking I’ll take advantage of you when you’re not sober.” You seem placated by that, nodding quietly. It’s a logical reason, one that spares your feelings, but it’s cold. Not at all what you had wanted him to say.

And if he understood you correctly, you had liked the idea of having sex with him, had been pleased with the idea of everyone thinking you were together. (His codpiece feels uncomfortably tight). The thought sits with him for a minute, stoking his ego as he basks in lust that travels through his body.

“And if I were to fuck you, it’s going to be when you’re in your right mind and can remember…everything.”

Something white hot and primal has hijacked Kix’s brain, a need to let you know you’re not crazy and the desire isn’t one-sided. He’s left staring at you blankly, heart racing as he lets himself slip into a vague daydream that involves making you squirm and pant on this little couch. Another time. If you'll let him.

“Oh,” you say dumbly, staring at him. Sober enough to put the pieces together, but drunk enough to not string together a proper response.

Fuck, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

“Oh,” he says back, watching as a slow and sappy smile spreads out on your face. Well, that’s a good sign. He slowly backs up towards the door, keeping his eyes on you.

“Goodnight, Kix,” you mumble, smiling at him and pushing yourself up to rest on the couch.

He feels a lick of heat rush through him at the site of your chest pressed against the arm of your couch, fishnet-covered legs kicked up behind you, eyelashes batting at him so prettily.

His eyes glide over the back of your upper thighs where the hem of your dress rests against your fishnet-covered skin. He wonders if you’d let him kiss your skin there, if you’d let him bite.

In a matter of seconds, you’ve managed to reverse the upper hand he had, keeping him wrapped around your finger. Good. As it should be.

“Goodnight,” he chokes out, exiting your apartment and leaning on the wall next to the door as it slides shut and locks.

He wishes he could hide in his bucket. He knows his face is flushed, and he can feel his cock twitching.

Oh, this is bad. He shakes his head a little as he pushes off the door, heading back to the lower floors. With you, he forgets himself; with you, he feels like a person. Very bad, indeed.

The noise of the Coruscant streets bombards his ears, making it harder to think, but he’s grateful for the somewhat fresh air. It’ll be nice to clear his head as he heads back to the barracks.

But it’s a fool's errand to believe he’ll be thinking about anything but your lips and that swath of skin on the back of your upper thighs.

#kix x you #clone trooper kix x reader #kix x reader #tcw x you #tcw x reader #star wars x you #star wars x reader

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thelaughtercafe · 2 months

Text

Soul Eater Ler Headcanons

Tea Type: Brown Sugar Boba

Potential Triggers: N/A

Pairing: Soul/F! Reader, Death the Kid/F! Reader, Black Star/F! Reader, Maka/F! Reader. Tsubaki/F! Reader, Liz/F! Reader, Patty/F! Reader, Stein/F! Reader

Length: 1.5k+

Summary: N/A

Soul Eater Evans:

Soul is very casual most of the time and I feel like tickling someone to pieces wouldn’t be any different.

Like Maka, takes it in complete stride which his Lee likely wouldn’t expect if they’d hidden it from him out of fear for any length of time.

He finds this hysterical and incredibly endearing at the same time, leading to him laughing at you good-naturedly.

“Damn, you went that long without something you wanted out of some misguided sense of feeling weird? You could’ve just told me, ya know. I tickle Blackstar and Maka all the time, Hell you’ve seen me do it. You had to know I wouldn’t mind.”

When you fumbled to explain it was different he sighed and rubbed his head.

“Man, you’re hopeless. Least now I know why you ran away all those times. Must’ve been really embarrassing for you, huh?”

He grinned, wiggling his fingers at you eagerly as he cornered you.

“Welp, guess all we can do is make up for lost time huh? C'mere so I can help you experience what you’ve wanted so bad first hand!”

He’s not a chaser, prefers for you and him to be more stationary.

Admittedly gets a kick at seeing you try to hold your arms up or not struggle too much, even though a cool guy like him could totally overpower you.

Reassures you in his own way too, bringing it up casually after wrecking you after you both had a stressful test that day.

“Y'know, the others won’t mind tickling you either. Even on the fraction of a chance they’re not willing to- they wouldn’t make fun of you for it. Even if they did, they’d have me to deal with!”

He flashed a shark-toothed grin your way.

“You like being tickled. So what? C'mon, say it. I know you can!”

Messes with you for a few days and sessions until you finally spit the words out.

He doesn’t tickle you directly till you get it out- only giving a quick poke or huff of air along your neck or ears to make you jump, around the others that prick-until you crack.

He’s kind’ve mean about it, honestly, but he does it to help you not hide who you are from the others. It’s all out of love in the end.

Rubs it in your face so hard when he ends up right. Doesn’t let you live it down ever.

Expect group tickle sessions for a while too just to be extra sure you got the message it’s not a big deal.

Maka Albarn:

Maka is really intuned with everyone around her and that translates to when she Ler’s too.

She senses the little things- the way someone leans into her touch when they like a spot.

She’s kind too- not the type to call you out and tease you for it like Soul or Stein, and if she does it’s playful and she’ll immediately admit she liked it just as much as you.

She loves to make others happy, and this is no exception. She views it as perfectly natural and normal and just about Maka-Chop’s you anytime you put yourself down.

You learn to accept your little quirk with her and the rest of your friends help.

Black Star:

God Blackstar is a rough one.

Good luck, the second he finds out you’re ticklish I hope you like it because he’s gonna use it to mess with you constantly.

Getting out of things, making you forgive him for small mistakes, you name it he’ll implement tickling somehow if it fits.

And when Tsubaki finally spells it out for him that you like it?

Even training isn’t safe then and he is merciless in that environment when he’s focused so trust- you both do and don’t wanna be caught by him.

He’s loud when he teases so you have to be direct and tell him not in public, and remind him if it bothers you fairly often otherwise the whole damn school is gonna know.

Speaking of teasing, KING of teases.

I’m blushing just thinking about it.

“Wow, is this really all you can handle? I know it’s a tall order because you’re up against a big star like me, but I’ll have to help you build up your stamina and endurance.”

“You’re lucky there’s no Kishin who tickle their victims; otherwise you’d be a goner for sure! Luckily you have the great Blackstar to help you as a failsafe precaution! Aren’t you lucky?”

300% uses his Ninja skills to fuck with you.

Sorry I don’t make the rules.

You called his bluff when he was just starting out and assumed he was loud and obnoxious with no other mode and boy did that backfire on you horribly.

After finding out you like being tickled, guess who now has a way to show you just how well he can sneak up on people whenever and wherever he wants?

Uses tickles as a reward/motivation too, to keep you training with him just that little bit longer than you usually would.

Tsubaki:

Gosh she’s so flustering as a Ler without even trying.

It’s because she’s so sincere and gentle.

It makes her amusement and sweet teases all the more effective.

“Aww you’re so precious like this! I’ve gotta do this more often!”

She’s one of the easiest Lers to go to, especially if you want relaxing tickles.

She’s so gentle technique wise, really only using spidering and stroking but it still tickles like Hell.

The only one who can reign Blackstar in with either tickling him or just talking sense.

Death the Kid:

Kid is generally very put together and that translates to when he lers.

Of course, he has to tickle symmetrically which means his poor Lee will have to put up with either both his hands or two tools at once.

The only good thing is that means you know the sensations are predictable.

Unless he has Liz and Patty help. Then? Then they’re really in trouble, because they’ll do the same, but as long as they keep the same technique? Kid’s fine letting them have variety from him. Predictability neutralized.

Unintentionally so flustering, holy shit.

Kid is naturally very logical and serious, and has a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. That man’s smirk is lethal.

Absolutely uses this to his advantage. After all, he has to make both of your cheeks the same pretty shade of red, and what better way to do that then make it cover your whole face~?

“Oh come now, surely it can’t tickle that badly? You’re flattering me.”

Can’t stop at an uneven time- works together with his Lee to get to 88 minutes for perfect symmetry.

He’ll stop before that if needed of course, but it’s typically best when the numbers match.

Patty:

Brings out of her Lee’s childish natures with her own.

Tends to giggle happily along with her Lee and is one of the Lers most often to start tickle fights and the like.

Adores how much fun it is to make her friends, family and s/o’s laugh omg.

It’s why she does it so often.

Most think she’s not smart but really, she’s quite aware. She just chooses to embrace her more childish side openly.

Loves to tease her Lee’s and pouts when she has to stop or gets pulled away by Liz.

“Aww but why? They’re so cute like this!!”

“Yes Patty but you kind of need them alive to tickle them more yeah? Let ‘em breathe, k?”

She salutes her sister all cute-like.

“K!!”

Switches spots often and has to get reminded by Kid to be more symmetrical if they’re Ler'ing someone together because she forgets a lot and it always makes her Lee jump in their grip.

Liz:

Queen of self-care/self-comfort tickles, for both her Lee and herself.

Compliments galore she’s so damn nice.

“Your laugh is so pretty, I swear. I’m so jealous!”

“Oh my God your nails are so cute!! You have to paint them for me later! Maybe if you agree to I’ll stop~”

Her teases are like that, mixed with her genuine compliments.

The most merciful between her sister and Kid.

Kid tends to get lost in the symmetry while tickling his Lee so if she’s helping or knows he’s gonna be Ler'ing someone she always reminds him to set an alarm so the poor Lee isn’t stuck there for 3 hours.

Definitely hasn’t happened more than once, nope.

Not that the Lee was complaining-

Absolutely loves using her nails as a tickle tool. It’s her go-to method and she is good.

Stein:

Unsurprisingly, the scientist who loves to experiment, also does so when tickling. It’s just his nature.

In addition to that he’s perceptive as Hell so good luck hiding your reactions.

In all likelihood, he knows instinctively if a Lee enjoys it thanks to seeing their Soul and being able to sense their nature better than most.

Let’s face it; Stein’s a complete sadist- and not only that- he’s very open about that fact.

Which means if it gets to you that he’s like that he’ll absolutely call you out and mess with you with it, switching between his typically playful and analytical self and his more cruel side.

Knows every tool out there, and relishes testing more unconventional ones too like back scratchers, combs and the like.

That goes for enhancement methods too. Everything from oil, sensory deprivation, and bondage. Whatever he can think of, really.

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mana-jjk · 2 months

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i have the flu right now y’all so um sick inuokko xoxo gossip girl (i’ve never seen gossip girl don’t correct me)

yuuta

• yuuta has no idea how to take care of himself when he’s sick, i kind of headcanon that rika’s cursed energy kept him semi-healthy so i don’t think he was sick very often

• when he was little, his mom used to make him okayu, but it’s been a long time since he’s even seen her

• so in a word, sick yuuta is a little pathetic lol

• he gets confused and a little delirious, which translates to being majorly clingy and forgetting that most of the time he’s contagious

• maki does not play about getting sick, she needs to be at peak 24/7 so she’ll literally get a ruler to keep him 6 feet apart, but she will throw some medicine at his face

• panda can’t get sick, but he does find sick humans pretty gross. so he’ll let yuuta cling to him, pat his back, but as soon as the mocos comes out, he’s nudging him away to go spray Clorox on himself

• toge probably gives in the most to him, he has no life preservation instincts when it comes to his friends. as soon as yuuta sniffled pathetically, looked at him with lost, wet eyes, he was a goner

• he forces him into blankets, bundling up and letting him lean on him. at some point, yuuta always ends up laying his head on his lap, toge’s fingers brushing through his slightly gross, sweaty hair.

• he panics a little when yuuta bursts into tears at the first taste of his okayu, he thinks it tastes even better than his mom’s.

• yuuta gets extremely weepy when he’s sick, sometimes he’ll just sit there and suddenly he’s the embodiment of T^T

• toge patiently wipes the tears from his face with his thumb, putting a hot towel on his head to fight the ensuing headache with a fond if not exasperated noise, trying not to blush at the way yuuta looks at him with round eyes as if he came down from the heavens

• when yuuta feels better, he’s always mortified of how he clung to his friends, and apologizes profusely afterwards. secretly though, he’s so relieved to have not been alone, to not have his desperate hands starving for affection brushed away again

toge

• toge is kind of the opposite when he’s sick

• having anemia and tearing his throat open so often leaves him a little more susceptible to colds and infections, he’s usually stocked up on medicine but they’re always a little worse than he expects

• he’s already afraid of little noises escaping him, so the moment his throat starts getting scratchy, he locks himself in his room in a self-imposed quarantine

• maki and panda are used to this, know how this little bit of control is essential to him, so they leave him be for the most part. dropping off snacks and soup they heated on the stove outside his door

• he’s never really had anyone take care of him when he was sick, so he doesn’t really know any better to feel the loneliness of it

• so he was entirely befuddled at how insistent yuuta was that he not be alone

• unlike maki and panda, yuuta stands outside his door with a tray of steaming food that he coerced them into helping him with. slightly falling apart onigiri, a little watery okayu, and perfect honey chamomile tea

• toge tries to shoo him away, but yuuta is so insistent and he’s so tired that he eventually just gives up

• part of why toge is hit so hard by sickness, is because he never allows himself to actually go through it. he’s always stifling himself, always hiding in some way or another and it’s enough to push yuuta into being a little more forceful than usual

• toge refuses to let him on the bed since it’s full of his germs, so yuuta sits on the floor right next to it. toge ends up glaring at him half heartedly, hiding under the covers to try and keep his sickness in a bubble

• but yuuta just smiles at him sheepishly, and sneaks the food into his hands, talking quietly about the endeavors it took to make

• eventually, toge falls asleep listening to him talk, but something even he doesn’t know is that eventually, silently, tears escape behind his closed eyes.

• yuuta holds his hand through it, doing what little he remembers from his parents, and everything toge does for him

• toge scolds him when he’s better, worried that he passed his illness on to him, but yuuta never promises to not do it again, not when he has full intention

anyway, forgive the typos because i literally cannot see right now, being sick and living alone sucks absolute ass

#inumaki toge #inuokko #yuuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #ottoge #oh to be a gay little person with a doting partner

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footy-fictionist · 11 months

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Championship loss - Julian Brandt

Pairing: Julian Brandt x female reader

Warnings: I'm gonna break your hearts again with the Championship loss, but also a lot of fluff, soft moments, teeny tiny bit of teasing, badly translated German, mentions of Jannis and Jascha

Word Count: 1653

Note: As always, English is not my first language. This one has been on my mind since we lost. Next one should be a Jude one and then I can get to the requests in my inbox. This one just had to come out now. Remember it's fictional, some parts may be alike with real life and some I just came up with. Please do not copy and/or publish my work, reblogging is perfectly fine!

Dortmund vs Mainz. The last game of the season and all we needed to do was win. Win so we could win the league. Win so we could lift the Meisterschale. That was the dream, everything Dortmund had worked so hard for and we didn’t win it. The equalizer from Niklas wasn’t enough because Bayern won their game. And now everything has become a nightmare. She’s watching speechless as she sees the defeat and utter disbelief on everyone’s faces.

But the one she is worried about most hasn’t come back onto the field again. Julian was subbed out in the 62nd minute and she knows he’s beating himself up. She may not be able to see him from where she’s stood, but she can feel his pain. Pain she also feels because she loves Dortmund, but it’s probably nothing compared to Julian’s pain and the other players. She’s not even surprised that not a single fan has left the stadium, the fans loyal to a fault. She’s still trying to find him when the stadium camera’s zoom in on the bench and there he is. Eyes red and teary, a few wet streaks and Julian just staring into the distance. That’s the moment she started crying too.

She watched as Terzic went to Julian and patted him on the face. The camera’s stopped showing the bench after that and a few moments later Julian stepped back out on the pitch. She watched as he slowly made his way to his teammates in front of the yellow wall. He didn’t really approach anyone, just standing between everyone and she knows he is already closing himself off. The disappointment is clear everywhere and yet the yellow wall sings and they support their players. They clap for the yellow wall, apologizing to the fans and thanking them for their support.

She watches as Julian crouches down, hand going over his face. She grabs onto Jascha’s arm, who has been standing next to her the whole game. He looks down at her, eyes leaving his brother. He sees the pain on her face, the tears still streaming even if she wipes them every few minutes. He pulls his arm out of her grip and she looks up at him a little panicked. She’s scared that she had upset her younger brother-in-law, only to have him wrap his arm around her shoulders to help comfort her. In return she wraps an arm around his waist. She looks back to where she last saw Julian only to see his deflated form sitting near Nico.

All she wants to do is go to him, but she can’t. She’ll have to wait till he comes to her. She watches as the team gets up and goes to walk past the fans. The fans comfort the players as they walk by, a few of them giving away their jerseys, Julian included. And even though it really isn’t the time, she can’t help but admire Julian and his physique. She sees him shirtless all the time, but after a game it always hits differently. But it’s not just his physique, it’s the way he takes the time with fans, talks with them and shows them he is as disappointed as they are. And yet he appreciates every single fan. His introverted side is not in sight with the fans. But she knows that’ll change once they’re alone.

She notices that Jascha stopped rubbing her arm and that’s when she notices her tears have stopped as well. She turns to him and thanks him for being a brilliant brother-in-law. She spots Jannis still near the other photographers, he turns that exact moment and they lock eyes. He waves at her and she manages to wave back with a bittersweet smile before he turns back to take more pictures. That’s when Jascha softly squeezes her arm and she follows his gaze to the pitch. And she sees her favourite sweaty blonde walk towards them.

His head is down, but he walks with purpose.

She already has the boarding digging into her hips before he’s even close. But the second he’s close enough, her arms wrap around his shoulders. It’s as though a weight drops off his shoulders and he wraps his arms around her waist. They hide their faces against each other’s necks. She inhales his scent, a scent that’s pure Julian and she hears him do the same. She can’t help but tighten her grip on him a little and move one hand to his golden locks. He pulls her in a little closer and presses a few small, soft kisses to the nape of her neck.

“Ich bin so stolz auf dich, Schatzie.”

“Wofür? We drew the game and lost the title. We bottled it.”

She immediately pulls away and he looks at her a little offended that she’s pulled away from him so quickly. She immediately makes sure to make it up to him by putting her hands on his jaw and drawing his face closer to hers. His arms tighten around her again as she does so and she presses a few butterfly kisses across his face.

“I’m proud of you for the good times, the bad times and everything in between. You have given it your all, you all managed to get back from 9 points difference. You battled through an injury whilst being in your prime and you still managed to give Bayern the biggest challenge they’ve had in years. You, Julian Brandt, are one of the best players on this team and if you’d ask me alone, I’d tell everyone you are the best. For your spirit, your passion, your perseverance, your love for the club and the fans. You live and breathe football at this club Schatzie. And I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d end up being like Reus for the fans. You give everything and more Jule and you can’t imagine how proud I am that I get to call you mine.”

As she’s talking to him, she can see a few tears start to gather on his lashes again. He presses his forehead to hers and the smile he gives her is brighter than the sun. She returns the smile and presses a kiss to his lips. It’s sweet, loving and passionate all at once.

“Ich liebe dich.” He whispers against her lips and she smiles, returning the phrase to him.

It’s then that they realize where they are and that they’re not alone. Julian presses another quick kiss against her lips before going to hug Jascha, who is giving him a mischievous look. Both Julian and her give Jascha suspicious looks but he just waves them away. They share a look but let it go. Mats approaches them to tell Julian that they have to go inside. Julian nods and turns back to her one more time. He presses another kiss to her lips.

“Will you wait for me here in the stadium?” She nods at him and presses another kiss to his lips.

As he makes his way to the dressing room, she and Jascha head inside to wait for Julian in the family area. She gets the chance to ask Jascha what his mischievous look was for. He just glances at her and tells her to look at her phone. She gives him a confused look but does as he says. She sees a few messages from him and the second she opens them, she knows why he was acting that way. He took some pictures of her interaction with Julian. And she can’t help but feel happy that he did. It’s clear in the pictures that they clearly love each other very much and she knows she’ll definitely use one as her background and that she’ll hang a few in their apartment.

“Danke, Jascha.”

Jascha just shrugs and gives her a wink. They talk for about 20 minutes and during that time Jannis has joined them. He’s showing her some of the pictures he made when some players finally enter the room. Julian makes an immediate beeline towards them, ignoring everyone else and she knows he’s in his own headspace now. He gives Jannis a slap on his back and then moves to wrap his arm around her. He stands close to her, now without the boarding between them. His forehead leans against her temple and she runs a hand through his still partially wet hair.

They go home soon after that and once home they order some food and crash on the couch. He’s quiet as he hands her the remote for the tv. He makes sure she’s in the corner of the couch and then goes to lie down between her legs, his front pressed against hers, head on her chest. She chooses a series and runs her fingers through his hair as they wait for their food. They don’t talk and she knows Julian isn’t paying attention to the tv. He’s in his own head, thinking of today’s outcome.

They eat in silence once the food arrives and then move to their bed. She knows he needs his own headspace to get over it and she lets him approach her if he needs anything. She’s used to it and she knows it’s what he’s most comfortable with. He’s in bed before her, but the second she gets on the bed he immediately pulls her to him. He pulls her as close to him as he can, her head on his chest this time and the sound of his heartbeat calms her completely. His scent envelopes her again and she sighs in complete content, making Julian smile and press a kiss to her hairline.

“Danke, meine Liebe. Ich liebe dich.”

"Natürlich, Schatzie. Ich liebe dich für immer.”

This time it’s Julian that sighs in content. He presses one more kiss to her hairline and then they both drift off.

Ich bin so stolz auf dich, Schatzie: I am so proud of you darling Wofür?: For what? Ich liebe dich (für immer): I love you (always/forever) Danke: thank you Meine Liebe: my love Natürlich: of course

#julian brandt x reader #julian brandt x female reader #julian brandt imagine #julian brandt one shot #julian brandt fanfic #football imagine #football imagines #football one shot

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ashlingnarcos · 10 months

Text

blood on vacation

David Barrón/F!Reader

written for @narcosfandomdiscord's smut alphabet, namely the July 2 prompt blood

tags: fistfight, absolutely unhinged preoccupation with bloody knuckles, fingering, oral sex

warnings: blood, probably unsanitary, reader is an OFC (Sabrina Tanaka), violence, this was not beta read and it kind of sucks ngl

length: 1.8k words

You’ve only been Mexico City for a week, and you’re already all vacationed out. It’s not Marcela’s fault. The two of you make no sense as friends—she, the trust fund kid formerly known as Marcelo who initially met you at your dad’s jiu jitsu academy, currently partying her way across the globe with an increasingly dodgy set of cousins, exes, and assorted other rich vagabonds, and then you, the standoffish sparring tutor forever known as Mr. Tanaka’s kid, with an unhealthy penchant for taking your skills to street wanderings, just to see if you could. She was whimsical and merry, spiritually curious and given to bouts of dangerously committed romantic pining, and you were stolid and practical and highly suspicious of anyone as eager to please as a car salesman, much less a preacher or supposed future lover. The one similarity between the two of you is that you both were born and raised in São Paulo, and could both kick hard enough to break bones. But the rest? Pure opposites attract chemistry.

She’s been generous on this trip, doing the rich girl thing in splendid style, and footing the bill for your part completely. She translates for you whenever she sees you getting lost—Brazilian Portuguese is similar enough to Mexican Spanish that you can kinda sorta understand what people are saying if they’re saying it slowly and doing overtime with the nonverbal cues—and does it naturally, not like it’s a chore or an opportunity to show off. She introduces you to her club kid friends with excitement, like she’s showing them someone really cool. She’s a sweetheart, Marcela is, and you’re more than happy to wingwoman her into a spot sitting on the lap of some baby narco named Ramón. But the good food aside, you’re still so alienated and bored that when a fistfight breaks out in the club, it come as a welcome change of pace.

There’s broken glass on the ground—Ramón’s older sister smashed a bottle over somebody’s head, good for her—so no ground fighting for you. And there’s too many people around to dedicate yourself to a hold. So you fall back on a motley bag of street fighting tricks, plus what you learned from a misspent summer at a boxing club, mostly just trying to stay upright and get your licks in where you can. It’s all fun and games until one of them slaps you, open palm. A punch would’ve been fine, but this? You hit his nose with the base of your palm, driving up to break it, then follow that up with a jab. Not satisfied yet, you sweep one of his feet out from under him, shove hard, and finally get him on the ground (broken glass be damned) in a hold that has him gasping fruitlessly for oxygen, his neck in the crook of your arm, his body trying to wriggle round and find an angle at which his elbow shots to your ribs will actually mean something. Unfortunately for him, when you’re pissed off, you could take it all the way to fully broken ribs and not care. Fortunately for him, nobody there actually wants anyone to die, so after a bit, several people pull you off him. One of them is Marcela, so you give it up. The fight has died down anyways; both sides are separating into bloodstained, wary-eyed groups.

Keeping steady eye contact with the man who slapped you, you lift your bloody-knuckled hand to your mouth, part your lips, and lick a long stripe of his blood off your skin. Slow and intentional and savagely self-satisfied.

As you turn to talk to Marcela, ask her where the bathrooms are so you can clean yourself up a little (Ramón is already yelling about partying the whole night through, and Marcela seems completely unruffled, so you doubt you’re all about to leave now), you catch a glimpse of something. Everyone here is preoccupied with their injuries, or other people’s, or the retreating crowd of interlopers, except for one man who seems to have witnessed your last threat. He’s dressed a little different than the others, in an oversized polo shirt. You remember getting a glimpse of him in the fight, thinking you might need to take him on next and grimly assessing that prospect as a dangerous one before he easily elbowed a guy who was heading for Ramón’s brother. So he’s not useless, and he’s not easily cowed. Just now, he’s looking back at your challenge of a glance with a flat-eyed expression that you can’t quite parse.

Hm.

No language in common and barely any friends, but you wanted a kill and you didn’t get one, and here’s another man. You’ll have to make do with another kind of death.

Inside the club bathroom, he hooks his fingers over the top of your jeans and tugs you forwards a couple inches. Commanding, but not a threat. Not trying to make you stumble, just getting you that much closer.

Regarding him with a curious, almost lazy look, you’re almost inclined to let him have his way, but then, as he goes to unbutton your jeans, his knuckles smear blood along your stomach. You close your hands over his wrists, and he pauses.

“Go wash your hands,” you say, slow and clear, lave as mãos. And he gets it.

You know he gets it, because he looks down at your hands, your bruised, swollen, bloody hands, and then back up at you in a way that makes his blank expression rather pointed. Oh, does the international man of mystery have a sense of humor after all?

“Do it,” you say, faça isso. That must not be close enough to Spanish, because he frowns a little. You give up.

You pull his hands out of your jeans, feeling a shiver go through you at the friction, and then you let go of him, walk over to the sink, and turn on the tap. As you lean back against it, the countertop digs into your thighs, suggestive. The dull pulsing thump of the club music outside gives the tiny bathroom a cloistered, cocooned quality. His dark eyes meet yours evenly.

You don’t move, don’t so much as lift an eyebrow. Silent. Yeah?

Yeah. He takes a couple steps forward and washes his hands, and as he does so he mutters something to himself in yet another language, English, maybe. As he dries his hands, he smiles. It’s a wry, private smile.

Two can play at that game. In your mediocre, third-generation Japanese, you say, “I have every intention of eating you whole” in exactly the same voice another woman might’ve said something sexy.

As he steps towards you, you could swear he says something that sounds like gostaria, dangerously close to I would like that, almost like he understands you.

You decide: no more talking.

Zero to a hundred. He tastes like beer and you, unfortunately, can’t get enough; your hands cup the back of his head, his neck, fingertips digging in as he finally unbuttons your jeans and shoves them and your panties down your thighs in one impatient motion. You could hop up onto the countertop, but why do that? This way is so much better, his wet hands gripping your ass, the swift coolness of droplets sliding down the back of your thighs, the low grunt he makes when he lifts you.

“Sorry, was that hard for you?” you say, but he’s two steps ahead of you. Got his palms warm on the inside of your knees, spreading your thighs and catching sight of just how wet you are for him. It’s his turn to be smug, clearly, but you can’t even be mad at it when he wears that smile so well.

He gets on his knees.

You should’ve known it’d be like this from the second you caught his eye in the aftermath of the fight. You really should’ve known, but it still punches an unwanted sound out of you, a small sound in the back of your throat, when he gets his face between your thighs in seconds, no hesitation, and starts to lick your cunt like it’s ice cream and he’s starving.

With the countertop digging into your legs and the mirror hard against the back of your head, your body throbbing with new bruises, you have no right to feel this good, but you do. With your fingers sunk into his hair and your eyes half-lidded, you feel like you could melt and slip right down that drain. For his part, he’s got you just how he wants you, with your legs parted wide to accommodate the width of his shoulders, his right forearm a bar across your belly. You have no fucking idea how or why he’s doing this—men who see you gone full destroyer don’t usually think to themselves, I want to make her feel good, they tend to think along much darker lines. They want to dominate you, and you get what fun you can out of the process of denying them that. But this? He got on his knees like it was his first choice. You do not know what this is, but you’ll take it. He slips a finger inside you, and you’re so wet that it barely burns at all. Two fingers. Fuck. He leans his weight into your stomach, across your thighs, to stop you from bucking up into his mouth, and that’s—that’s fair. It’s all you can do not to whimper, and your heavy panting sounds desperate enough. Three fingers and you do whimper.

He looks up, and you’re already bracing yourself, but no. There’s no sneer in it; there’s something else. All night, this nameless man has been quiet, unnoticeable, and then, once noticed, mysterious, but now you see him. The first look is caution, but the second? The second is all appreciation, like he could drink the sight.

That look hits you hard. You close your eyes, because you don’t want to see it, don’t know what the hell to do with it, and choose instead to sink deep into the sensations in your body as he wrings you out. A wave of euphoria hits you as you come, and it’s just the body, you know it’s just the body, but when it’s over and he has his chin propped up on your thigh, both of you looking exhausted, neither of you done, you get the weirdest urge to push his sweat-damp hair off his forehead. Little killer, you want to say. Damn near affectionate. (It’s just the body.)

The cops arrive at the club before you can manage to return the favor, and Marcela hates all interactions with the cops with a flaming passion, so you have to get her out even though in all likelihood Ramón will just have to flash them a medium-size wad of bills. Later, though, when you can, you confess all (most) of the strange encounter to her, and she gets the message out to him. Through which of the tiny terrors, you don’t want to know. Probably Ramón, a thought that does not fill you with confidence. But he gets the message anyway.

The message is: I owe you one.

#David Barrón x reader #Narcos mexico #narcos mexico imagine #narcos mexico readerfic #David Barrón #mine #nffalphabet #well. that happened.#was it good? no but we gotta make progress somehow. gotta start somewhere. etc

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maximwtf · 2 years

Text

“You’re fading away.”

Legolas x Male elven reader

words: 1770

google docs pages: 4

warnings: memories of death, loss/death, comfort

opening: Elves are immortal, but they are still vulnerable to grief. Your brother died fighting by your side, and the grief is starting to take you with it.

Not Proof Read!!

AN// Just watched all of the Lotr movies in one sitting and since I’ve wanted to write for Legolas even before this, I decided to give it a try now. (oh also, all of the elvish parts are translated in a translator and i was too lazy to check if they’re correct)

“You’re fading away.”

You weren’t sure how long it had been since the tragic battle, where your brother had lost his life. And to be honest, it didn’t even matter how much time passed, it still felt like it had happened yesterday. It still felt like the next morning, when you had actually realised that he was really dead. You could still see the moment he had fallen when you closed your eyes, it even haunted you in your sleep. The grief felt like heavy bricks on your shoulders, slowly pushing you to your knees until you couldn’t stand up anymore. You didn’t have the energy to do as much as you used to, and at first others just passed it off as grief that would pass, but it never did. You hid in your house or in your room in the elvenking's halls when you were invited there.

You sat down on your bed, leaning against the wall. Your mind starting to go through the past yet again. You closed your eyes and hid your face in your hands. Some strands of your white hard fell on your face as well. The braids in your hair had become a mess since you so rarely took any care of them. One more reason to hide from others.

Your memory formed the picture of the past just like it was. Every detail was correct. There were too many orcs around you and your group, and you all knew that. But even though that, none of you were going to leave anyone behind. Apart from your brother being there, Legolas had been in the group as well along with a couple other elves. He had been trying to make a path so you could all retreat, but that hadn’t worked. You turned to look at your brother, he was fighting the best he could but you could see that he was unsure if you would all make it out alive. He took a quick look at you, and bit his teeth together. “Legolas! Take them away the other way!” He called out to Legolas, turning to look at the orcs. He started to run forward, making a good part of the orcs follow him, giving you and the others the chance to get away. “Haldor!” You called out for your brother in panic. You wanted to run after him, but one of the elves grabbed your arm and pulled you with them.

The rest of the group got to a safer place. Legolas was holding you in place, as you tried to fight your way back to where your brother had ran to. “Y/n! He’s not there anymore!” Legolas told you, tightening his grip. “We need to help him!” You cried out, slowly starting to lose the energy to fight back. Legolas sat down with you, letting go of you slowly. You curled up a little, placing your face in your palms. “We need to go and get him.” You muttered in your hands, tears beginning to fall on the ground. “We can’t return now. We’ll all be slain if we go back now.” Legolas said, offering you a hand. You looked up at him, and took a hold of his hand so he could pull you back on your feet. “We’ll come back for him later, you have my word on that.” Legolas said.

Almost a day had passed after that, and Legolas had kept his promise. He had taken you along with him to go and get your brother. There was no hope that he would still be alive but you wanted to at least bury him somewhere where you could visit his grave.

Your and Legolas’ horses made their way to the spot where your brother had left the group. You two continued on for a little more, and soon enough saw a body on the ground. You jumped off your horse's back and ran to the body that laid in front of you. “Haldor…” You muttered as you kneeled down next to him, looking down with grief. Legolas got down from his horse as well, and walked next to you. “We shall take him back to the others, and bury him.” He said quietly. “Yes..” You replied, and got up after picking up your brother. Legolas placed his hand on your shoulder. “Thank you for coming back with me.” You continued before walking back to your horse.

Your memory was startled, as someone knocked on the door of your room. You looked up, moving some of the loose strands of hair out of your face. A couple knocks later a familiar voice spoke up. “Y/n, are you in there?” You sighed. It was Legolas, he tried to visit you often when you were visiting the elvenking’s halls. “I am.” You decided to reply shortly, not wanting to waste his time. You heard the door open and saw Legolas step in the room. “How are you doing?” He asked as he closed the door behind him. “Been better.” You replied. “Well at least you’re not lying.” Legolas hummed as he sat down next to you on the bed. “You look like a mess.” He then added after a moment of silence. “Wow, thank you so much.” You laughed a little at his comment. There was yet another moment of silence before Legolas broke it again. “Face your back to me, I’ll braid your hair.” He said, looking kind of sadly at your messy hair. “You don’t have to.” You replied to him, making him shake his head a little. “But I want to.” Legolas then stated. “If you insist.” You turned around, hearing that Legolas shuffled closer to you.

Legolas began to carefully open the old braid, and straightened them out with his hands. “You know, I kind of want you back.” He started while working on your hair. You didn’t reply anything to that, you didn’t dare to. “It’s hard to see you fade away.” He added before going silent again. “Goheno nin Legolas.” (forgive me) You replied, feeling Legolas start to braid your hair slowly. “Lasto Y/n.” (listen) Legolas sighed before continuing. “I know you’re probably aware of this, but you’re going to die if you keep going like this. I’m afraid this grief will take you out.” He said quietly while braiding your hair, so it doesn't fall on your face. “Legolas…I don’t wish to die, this is not the way a soldier like myself should go out. But no matter how much time passes I can’t get rid of this grief.” Your voice cracked. “Look at me, Legolas. I used to be something in the past but now there is only a shell of that man left behind. Put me on a battlefield and the grief will take me out quicker than any orc.” You explained to him. You hadn’t talked to anyone like this in ages, but Legolas might have been the only one you would even allow yourself to talk to. He was the only person you really knew back then when your brother had sacrificed himself. “Then let me help you, Y/n. I can’t just watch you slowly die like this.” Legolas offered as he tightened the last braid and stood up. You looked up at him. “I dass carmen?” (is it ready) You asked, feeling the braids he had made with your hands. By the feel of it he had done an amazing job, like he had always done when he had done your hair. Legolas nodded at your question, and with that you stood up as well.

Legolas looked at you for a moment, happy to see you look somewhat better. “Legolas, thank you.” You said to him, before hugging the other elf. Legolas said nothing but hugged you back. It wasn’t often that you or the other elves in general showed any affection to one another, but mostly privately the elves that had closer relations could do that. Because of this it often seemed like the elves were cold and unable to love anyone or even care too much. But that was only because grief was easily fatal to even the immortal elves.

Legolas stepped away from you and offered his hand to you like back at the fatal battle. “Mellon nin, aphado nin.” (my friend, follow me) He told you. You smiled at him a little and took a hold of his hand. “Where are we going?” You asked but Legolas didn’t answer. He started to lead you out of your room.

Legolas took his horse and got you to sit behind him on it. The horse began to walk towards the forest. The mirkwood forest was quite heavy but you could hear the water from the forest river. From that it didn’t take you long to realise where Legolas was trying to take you. Your brother’s grave. “Why are you taking me here?” You asked, not resisting. “Because I felt like we should start here.” He replied, and stopped the horse as you began to be close to the grave.

You hopped on the ground, Legolas following you. He walked up to the grave and sat down on the grass that was growing around it. The sun was shining to the spot from between the leaves of the trees, allowing some flowers to bloom as well. You sat down next to Legolas after a while. “Forgive me for being absent.” You started a small conversation. Legolas shook his head a little before he replied. “It’s okay, I should have offered help before this. I saw how things were going for you.” You turned to look at him. “You think there is still a chance for me?” You then asked. “Of course, surely your brother would want to see you back to your old self again.” Legolas told you, reading the writing on the gravestone in his mind. “Then, if you’re willing to help, I’m ready.” You said, putting a hand on Legola’s shoulder.

#lord of the rings #lotr #legolas #x reader #lord of the rings x reader #lotr x reader #legolas x reader #lotr legolas #lord of the rings legolas #fanfic #fanfiction #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #the hobbit #x reader fanfic #x reader fanfiction #legolas fanfic #legolas greenleaf #legolas beloved

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saiyanprincessswanie · 1 year

Text

Chrome & Leather - Chapter 17

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC

Word Count: 3064

Summary: The light is starting to shine on Jessie and Steve as they renew their relationship. Love and their past are what brings them together again.

Warnings: Light Angst, (S)mut, (O)ral (F & M), Soft moment’s throughout.

A/N: thank you to my betas @pigwidgeonxo & @awesomerextyphoon & @nekoannie-chan I really appreciate the help. @whimsicalrogers for the divider thank you.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. Even if you leave an emoji you will make my day. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

It’s been four weeks since Jessie broke up with Billy. The transition for Ben had been hard at first with many tears involved and a few sleepless nights. Thankfully Steve was around to help his son during this transition. If anything this made Ben and Steve have a closer bond. Jessie loved seeing them interact with each other and hearing their laughter fill the room. There was no denying Ben was close with his dad.

Now that August rolled in that meant school was back in session. Steve insisted on driving Ben to his elementary school to make up for lost time. This would give Jessie time to shower and eat before heading to work with Clint following her on his bike to make sure she was safe. Jessie would work an easy nine to two pm shift so she could get Ben in the afternoons. Then they would head home so Ben could get a snack and play.

On the weekend the biker club would get together to have fun. Even Winnie, who was everyone’s favorite, would go to cookouts just to spend time with what was known as family time. It was always a blast seeing everyone for Jessie. These were the moments she missed when she ended up with Billy. Now that she was single she got to spend time with everyone including Steve who was still living in her spare room. She often wondered what it would be like to get back with him. Could they build a future together? She snapped out of her thoughts and watched as Ben ran around the front yard with Steve. The little boy would squeal in delight as his dad caught him, picked him up, and swung him in a circle. Steve was exactly how she pictured he would be with their son.

Steve put Ben back on the ground and the little boy ran to his mamaw for snuggles. This gave Steve the opening he was looking for. He walked over to Jessie and smiled. “Can I talk with you in private?”

Jessie nodded her head and took the hand Steve offered. Their friends were whistling as they walked to Bucky’s garage and a yell of “you better not do what I’m thinking” came from Bucky. Steve laughed as he put his hands up assuring his friend it was innocent. Jessie and Steve walked into the garage in silence.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Jessie asked cautiously. A part of her was nervous as he had sounded serious.

“It’s nothing bad I swear. I was just thinking that we have been spending so much time together that I was wondering if you want, maybe we could start dating again. I know the breakup with Billy was difficult but we have a past that I thought we could explore again. What do you say?” Steve was nervous that she wouldn’t be ready yet but he was ready to try and fix things for his little family.

Jessie briefly pondered what Steve said and in her mind, it was a no-brainer. “Yes, I would really like to try this again with you.” Steve grinned and scooped her up into a huge hug and kissed her with such passion it made her toes curl. Steve put Jessie back down and they walked hand in hand to tell their family the good news. Everyone congratulated them and wished them the happiness they truly deserved.

Bucky hugged Steve and spoke threateningly, “Break my sister's heart again and I will end you punk.”

Steve chuckled, “Not gonna happen Jerk. This time it’s forever.”

Winnie was in tears as she hugged her daughter telling her “everything is now the way it was meant to be.” The night went on with everyone talking and eating. Life couldn’t have been more perfect than it was now. This is what life should have always been like from the beginning. They were finally a family unit now. Ben had stability, Jessie felt safe again and Steve was happy to get his family back.

Sunday mornings were made for cuddle times with Jessie and Ben. Ben would come into her room around seven A.M. and crawl into the bed with his teddy bear all sleepy. Ben would then snuggle with his mama while she slept.

An hour later Steve was up and heading to where he would find his family. Steve walked into Jessie’s room and watched as Jessie and Ben both slept peacefully. He smiled big as he made his way into the room. Looking at the empty opposite side of the bed Steve couldn’t help but crawl under the covers. This moment with his son and Jessie would forever stay in his mind forever.

A half-hour passed and Jessie started to stir in her sleep. As she slowly opened her eyes she saw Ben cuddled next to her as he held his teddy bear. As her eyes drifted behind him she smiled bigger seeing Steve laying on his side looking at her.

“Good morning Steve.”

“Good morning my love.”

Jessie couldn’t help but feel her face heat up over the nickname. “How long have you been here?”

Steve grinned. “Just long enough to watch you sleep a little. I couldn’t help myself, you both looked so peaceful that I had to join you.”

“You’re always welcome to join us. Little man here has been doing this since he could walk.”

“Shhhhh, mama I’m trying to sleep.” Ben gave a whine from being disturbed.

“Ben, did you see Daddy joined snuggle time?”

Slowly Ben opened his eyes and turned over to face Steve. Grabbing his bear, Ben buried himself against Steve. Jessie couldn’t help but giggle at the way their son was already back asleep and cuddled against Steve.

After another hour of sleeping in, everyone got out of bed and changed for the day. Jessie announced they were going to Mamaw’s home for breakfast as usual. Ben was cheering as he ran through the house. Once they were ready they piled into the truck and headed over to Winnie’s home.

Once they arrived they were greeted by Winnie who stood on the porch. As usual, Ben screamed her name and ran over to her. Jessie and Steve laughed at their son who was already in Winnie’s arms and asking about breakfast. Within minutes Bucky and Nat were pulling up on his Harley Davidson. Sunday breakfast was a tradition now for the Barnes family to get together and enjoy their time together.

Nat hopped off the bike, followed by Bucky and the four of them walked into the house together. By the time everyone hugged and started to sit down to eat Jessie noticed a ring on Nat's left hand.

Jessie softly smiled. “So Nat want to tell us about that ring?”

Everyone looked between Bucky who was grinning and Nat who blushed. “Well Jessie, everyone, Bucky proposed last night. Obviously, I said yes.” She held up her hand to show everyone. Winnie was up out of her seat and hugged Nat. Jessie got out of her chair to hug her best friend next while Steve and Bucky hugged.

“What can I say? I'm in love with the fiery redhead who has a heart of gold.” Bucky declared as Nat gave him a side-eye.

The rest of the morning was spent eating and talking about the upcoming wedding. Nat and Bucky both agreed they didn’t want to wait another year so the plan was for next month. Talks of venue and dresses had Jessie thinking about when she was engaged to Steve. If everything had gone to plan they would have been married five years now. She looked at her left hand which was bare and glanced at Steve who was staring at her. His blue eyes said everything she felt. What if?

As it approached the afternoon Bucky and Nat left to go for a Sunday drive. Winnie offered to watch Ben so Jessie and Steve could have the night together. They agreed and drove back to the house to get his Harley. Once they got home they were off riding to a destination unknown. With the wind in their face and the sun at their backs, it didn’t matter where they went as long as they were together.

By midafternoon Steve stopped for gas at the gas station on the edge of town. While filling his tank he heard another motorcycle leaving their town. He watched as the bike drove out of sight. Steve thought he recognized the man but he wasn’t sure. Could it be the biker gang Hydra from the next town over? Topping the tank off Steve took this as a sign to head back into town.

Later on, they headed to the bar to meet up with their friends. As they walked in they were met by Bucky, Nat, Tony, Thor, Clint, Sam, Wanda, Peter, Loki, Pietro, and Rhodey. There was a new woman there sitting next to Thor who they never met before. Going up to the group everyone greeted the couple and made room for them at the table. Thor was the first to speak.

“Steve, Jessie, I would like you to meet Jane. She is a science teacher at the high school in town. We’ve been dating for a little while quietly so I decided now was the time to introduce her to everyone.”

Jessie smiled softly at the couple. It was about time Thor found love again. “It’s very nice to meet you, Jane.”

Steve grinned at the couple. “It’s a pleasure Jane to meet you.”

“Thank you both. I’ve heard so much about you and everyone else. I’m so happy to meet you all finally.”

“Hope it was all good,” Tony replied.

Thor rolled his eyes. “Of course it was. Except for you Tony.” Tony made a shocked face as everyone started to laugh.

The day turned to night and everyone was having a great time. Club business was briefly brought up about making Peter a prospect since he turned twenty-one. All nine men voted it through and Bucky stood up giving Peter his prospect cut. Everyone cheered and whistled for him, congratulating him on taking the step to join.

It was now ten o’clock at night when the bar was picking up with customers and the club decided to part ways for the evening. Sam and Wanda worked the bar as everyone started to walk outside. As the men started getting on their bikes Steve pulled Bucky aside.

“Hey, when Jessie and I stopped for gas earlier today I saw a biker leaving town. I could have sworn it was Jack Rollins but I’m not 100% sure. We need to continue to keep one of our men on Jessie at all times just in case trouble is starting.”

“No worries Punk, no one will get close to my sister without us knowing. I will talk with the guys about this tomorrow. If it is Jack I would say he is up to no good.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Both men shook hands and waved goodbye.

Steve got on his bike and waited for Jessie to hop on. Deciding to leave Ben at Winnie’s for the night the duo returned home to the house.

Once home the pair got themselves changed for bed and parted ways for the night. Jessie tossed and turned for an hour in her bed. A part of her wanted Steve in her bed to hold until she fell asleep. Memories danced in her head of them years ago of making love with one another. Her hand slowly drifted to her breasts as she lightly played with her nipples. Soft pinches had her breath hitching.

The bedroom door creaked open and she instantly stopped when she saw Steve’s silhouette in the doorway. He was standing shirtless and in a pair of sweatpants.His tattoos littered his chest and down his arms, they made her lick her lips in excitement. Who knew his tattoos would make her weak in her knees?

“Steve?” she quietly asked. Her eyes roamed down his body taking in every muscle that flexed.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t sleep and I was thinking of you. Your soft curves and warm skin against me.” He entered her room closing the door behind him and slowly walked to her side of the bed. Jessie sat up, her heart was beating faster in excitement.

“I want you, Steve,” she whined.

“Oh yeah? How bad?” He questioned.

“Let me show you,” she stated. Her hands wandered from his chest and then down his stomach until she reached his pants. She pulled his pants down over his slim waist until they dropped to the floor leaving him naked in front of her. Steve kicked his pants away while Jessie climbed off her bed and knelt in front of him. Her hand wrapped around his cock and she slowly started to kitten lick his slit. Steve let out a groan as her lips wrapped around the tip and she swirled her tongue around him. Taking him fully into her mouth Jessie slowly started to bob her head up and down on his cock as her hands lightly fondled his sack making him shudder from the pleasure she gave. Steve’s hands ran through her hair and he fisted his right hand in it as he tried to ground himself. With every up and down motion of her head, Steve let out groan after groan as he tried to hold himself back. Jessie then took him all the way to the back of her throat and slightly gagged around him. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to his release the more she bobbed her head, so he gently pulled her off his cock gasping out, “As tempting as it is to cum down your throat I would rather cum deep inside you.”

Jessie smiled up at him. “I’m desperate for you. All I dream of is being with you. Make love to me, please.” Jessie all but whined out the last word. Steve helped her stand before him as he grinned at her.

“God do I love to hear you beg for me.” Their lips clashed together as they fought for dominance. Steve quickly stripped Jessie of her tank top. Little moans escaped her lips as his mouth took a nipple into it and he nipped at it lightly. They both fell to the bed as hands were caressing one another.

Steve’s hard cock ground against her clothed core. He rubbed himself back and forth a few times as they moaned in pleasure. It took all his strength to pull away briefly so he could pull her shorts off and throw them over his shoulder. He started to kiss his way down her body to her wet pussy.

Once he reached his destination Steve slowly started to lick his way through her lips before he started to feast on her. Jessie arched her back in pleasure as her moans started to build. This was always one of her favorite things Steve did in the bedroom. Every time he dipped his tongue into her pussy Jessie would gasp and shutter. Steve moved his attention to her clit, sucking it lightly as he pushed two fingers into her core. The combination of his tongue and fingers had her already cumming as he rubbed against the spongey wall inside her, moaning Steve’s name to the heavens. He continued to eat her out until he pulled a second orgasm from her. Jessie mewled and shook in pleasure as her hands fisted in the bed sheet.

“Just as good as I remembered,” Steve growled out as he licked his lips of her slick and repositioned himself. He was now caging her into the bed as he smiled down at her.

“I need you, Steve,” Jessie begged as she watched him lower his body over hers.

Steve slowly stroked his long, thick cock a few times before slowly burying himself into her. They both groaned as he rocked his hips back and forth. Steve couldn’t believe this was finally happening after all these years apart. He had dreamt a lot of being inside her sweet cunt and bringing her nothing but pleasure. He would do whatever she asked of him and more.

Jessie wrapped her legs around his waist and rolled her hips every time he thrusted into her. Her nails dug into his shoulders as they made love to one another. She chanted his name like a sweet melody to his ears.

Steve knew he wasn’t going to last long since it’s been years since they had sex. Stopping briefly Steve rolled to his back and let Jessie ride him. She looked so beautiful in his eyes, hands on his chest, head thrown back as she moaned over and over with every bounce on his cock. He reached up to grab her by the neck and brought her face to his so they could kiss.

“I’m so-so close Stevie.” She panted out.

He reached in between them and started rubbing her clit with his other hand. “Cum for me. Don’t hold back and let go.” Steve whispered huskily in her ear.

Jessie came hard moaning his name as her walls were tightening around his thick cock. This triggered Steve to cum deep inside her, painting her walls and womb white. Jessie collapsed against his chest and Steve held her tightly.

“God, I love you, Jessie,” He confessed.

She smirked big. “You’re just saying that 'cause I rode your cock.”

They both started laughing at her response. “I mean it, you're my everything. I can’t picture my life without you in it. Say you will always be mine.”

“I’m yours Steve now and forever. Ain't nothing gonna change it.”

Jessie gently slid off him to go to the bathroom to clean up. Once she was done Steve watched as she strolled out naked, her hips swaying back and forth before she climbed into bed.

Steve was starting to get hard again. “I’m not through with you just yet darling. Tonight we make love until sunrise.”

tags:

@americasass81

@b3autyfuldisast3r

@caffiend-queen

@charmed-asylum

@denisemarieangelina

@fictional-affairs

@georgiapeach30513

@get0verit

@hollybee8917

@joannie95

@jobean12-blog

@jvanilly

@labella420

@lfnr-blog-blog-blog

@madscape

@mdemontespan1667

@mrsmischief209

@mycrazyasslikestoread

@nekoannie-chan

@notyourtypicalrose

@patzammit

@princessofdarkwinter

@rayofdawnworld

@reneeenders

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@wolfsmom1

@what-is-your-plan-today

@writercole

@missvelvetsstuff

@jtargaryen18

#saiyanprincessswanie #missy writes #chrome & leather #chrome and leather #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #biker au #biker!steve rogers #billy russo x ofc #billy russo x original female character #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo au

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krystaldeath · 2 months

Text

Cult of The Lamb hc’s (part of me feels like I should wait till I play the game myself - or watch a full playthrough at least - before I “solidify” these but meh. For now at least these are how I see things):

* Kinda typical hc I feel like but Leshy is the youngest, then it’s Heket, Narinder, Kallamar, and then Shamura is the oldest.

* Idk what their ages would be chronologically wise but my personal hc’s for “biological” age are: Leshy (21), Heket (25), Narinder (27), Kallamar (32), and Shamura (40). I think Lamb is about 200 years chronologically but 28 “biologically” (I think it’s funny if they’re “older” than Narinder)

* I don’t have a name for them yet but my version of the Yellow Cat is a little bit fucked up actually. Like they seem chill and they kinda are? But they’ve got a body count. And no not the sex kind. Think of that one audio where the guy answers the body count with 30 and when it’s clarified that it’s about sex he’s like “Oh well I haven’t done that yet!” And the other persons like “WHAT DOES 30 MEAN THEN???”

* I need y’all to know I project onto The Lamb HARD. So yeah, they always wanted to be kind and sorta made it a big part of their personality. Unfortunately their world and circumstances just doesn’t allow for their kindness. They still try to be as kind as they can be, but it’s hard when you’re slowly ascending to godhood, especially into the god of death.

* Also Agender Lamb. They/Them and ONLY They/Them Lamb all the way. Demi ro & sex & pan. They’re a?ab (assigned ??? At birth; bc I can’t decide but if you MUST know I think they can shapeshift a bit now so. Maybe they forgot themself lol). Presents androgynously, leaning either way whenever they feel like it. They have a more masc voice though I think, like the ones people use in comic dubs a lot.

* Once I figure out how to draw (could stop it there I am Rusty) anthropomorphic animals it’s over for y’all (Translation: I will draw my self insert and The Lamb being kinda fucked up Besties)

* ((PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT MY SELF INSERT AND OTHER OC INSERTS I HAVE FOR THIS THE BRAIN ROT IS SO REAL))

* The cotl fandom is filled with queer people who’ve got some level of religious trauma, let me recommend a recent song I’ve been looping and imagining a cotl/narilamb animatic to: Collared by Vane Lily (look it up on YouTube to watch the fun mv first!) WARNING IT IS HIGHLY SUGGESTIVE

* I’ve been flip flopping a bit on what species she’d be but I have ideas for a follower love interest for Heket! At first I thought a bunny, then a bee, and currently feeling like a bat would be cute. Idk but I do see her as a warrior type who also likes to bake and do cutesy things too

* I think once the bishops become followers their injuries are worse but they can still “work” around them: Leshy can kinda see things if they’re up close. Heket can sorta speak but not fast and she’s got. Well not a sore throat bc. She doesn’t have one of those anymore. But something akin to that constantly. Kallamar can only hear loud things or if someone spoke into his ear directly (he only allows those in his polycule and his siblings (minus Narinder) to get that close). Shamura does get a bit lost in their own mind, and even when they’re more conscious their memory is spotty.

* Back to my Yellow Cat being a bit fucked up: They actually really liked the idea of chaos (though they hardly show it) so when they find out Leshy was the bishop of chaos instead of being scared or unnerved they’re like “*twirls hair (fur??)* ha ha ha, omg, really~?”

* *slaps the top of The Lamb, Leshy, and probably so many others don’t underestimate me* these bitches can fit so much adhd (+ autism probably) in them

* Probably (geez I use that word a lot huh?) got more hc’s, especially for other characters, but this is already pretty long so I’ll leave it here for now

#cult of the lamb #cotl headcanons #I would tag as narilamb or leshycat but I mean… I didn’t really get into either of them in this lol #my posts #cotl oc #kinda??? I mention my self insert and such #to entice you to ask about them: They’re a blonde long furred cat that has an extra set of arms that are bat arms #wanna know why? ask :3c #please

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btsmfanfics · 9 months

Text

The Choreographer -- Pt 14

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader | Jimin X Reader | Yoongi X Reader .

Rating: Explicit (not for this chapter though)

Warnings: *deep breath* angst, smut, protected vaginal intercourse, blowjobs, eating out, emotional outbursts, post-coital emotional flooding, more angst, choking, scratching, biting, kissing, marijuana use, drinking, playful roasting, holding hands, and did I mention angst? Seriously your heart breaks a little for each of them.

Summary: You were the assistant choreographer for BTS tasked with taking over for the lead while on tour. You'd sacrificed everything for this job, and you didn't want to risk it, but the temptation has proved to be too sweet.

Now you have to juggle the social, physical, and emotional consequences of your affairs. Jealousy between the members, social isolation, and potential feelings? No, that last one was not something you'd allow. You already had enough on your plate. You had to squash that down.

But feelings demand to be felt. And you cannot run away forever.

________

How I dumped all my trauma into a single fanfic.

A/N: *sings* who is ready for things to get SO much more complicated? Me! I’m ready! This might be my favorite chapter I’ve ever written. Wooohooo! Let’s gooooooooooo!

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The lights of the arcade flashed all around you—magenta, tangerine, and turquoise took turns in your periphery while you chewed on your straw. Rum and coke. It had been your go-to since before you were old enough to legally drink.

It had been three weeks since Jungkook had left your room. You’d just flown to Osaka. This was the second-to-last stop before Shizuoka, and then finally home to Seoul. You couldn’t wait for this godforsaken tour to be over. Once in Seoul, you’d have an entire month off to rest and recuperate before you had to head back out, and were singularly focused on getting through this tour so you could spend the next month doing absolutely nothing.

You and Jungkook hadn’t spoken to each other at all since that night, save for overly-polite greetings whenever you had to save face in front of staff and the other members.

Despite the time, it hadn’t gotten easier.

You took another sip of your drink and savored the carbonation that prickled on your tongue.

“Babe! Over here!”

You looked over to see Jia. She stood beside a large arrangement of dance-based games and waved you over.

“Come on! I need a player 2!”

She jumped up and down as you approached her, eager for you to join.

“I don’t know if this would be a fair fight, Ji,” you taunted.

“Wanna bet?” Her smile held a sinister edge. “I used to play this game all the time back home.”

“Yeah, but I’m more coordinated.”

“Okay, well prove it then,” she said, gesturing for you to take your place on the platform beside her.

As it turned out, Jia was right. Your dance skills didn’t translate to being able to follow the directions of the arrows and match your feet to the appropriate pads on the floor.

“Shit, Jia, you weren’t kidding.”

“Years of practice.” She wasn’t even breaking a sweat, and she had set her difficulty to hard.

You lost spectacularly. Jia had a near-perfect score, while you received a 43%.

“Care to try again?” she asked.

“I’d rather watch you kick Jin’s ass,” you said. “Where are they, by the way?”

“I think they’re arriving soon. They had to drive separately since they need tinted windows. Paparazzi, you know?”

“Ah.”

You enjoyed watching Jia play against a few other crew members while nursing your drink. You much preferred this to going to the club like the crew normally did on Saturday nights. The crew seemed to relax more when it was just people from the tour.

Hanyuel had set up a makeshift bar on one of the ping pong tables and was handing out drink after drink. The others were being used for beer pong. Daejung, a member of the stage crew was absolutely dominating his counterpart, a camera man named Jay.

Two of the stylists you knew only by face played a racing game, while the resident personal trainer shot hoop after hoop at a basketball game. You still weren’t too familiar with the rest of the crew, but you knew they each played an integral role in the crazy traveling circus you’d been caught in.

As you were observing everyone, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. All seven members were arriving through a side alley entrance. Once they made their way in, they received applause from the crew for having pulled off yet another amazing performance.

Polite as ever, they applauded the crew for having been instrumental in the show’s success. You could tell they still weren’t quite used to being applauded by people they considered friends and colleagues. Fans were one thing, but this was different.

You wanted to go up and say hi, but determined it was better to hang back and spend more time with the crew. You didn’t want to monopolize their time or attention. Besides, it was fun hanging with Jia and some of her friends.

After a few moments of greeting, the members spread out around the crowd. Hoseok made his way over to your group and challenged Jia to a dance off.

“I don’t know about that Hobi,” you warned. “I already made that mistake.”

“I’ll bet you 10 tokens I win,” said Hobi. You cringed in anticipation of his defeat.

He actually held is own against Jia. Apparently, he wasn’t a rookie like you had been, and he was pretty quick on his feet. You weren’t sure what you expected, but it definitely hadn’t been that.

Jia had years of experience, but Hoseok picked it up quickly, and he had more control over his body than she did. He lost the first round, but challenged her to a second and won.

“We’re tied. Best of three?” he said. “Winner take all.”

“You’re on.”

It was a tight race. They both amped up the difficulty level to expert and chose an up-beat song. Arrows flew across the screen at an alarming rate as they pounded a steady tattoo on the sensors at their feet. At first Jia was in the lead, but Hoseok surpassed her. Their feet moved fast and accurately, so much so that your eyes could barely follow their movements.

It was neck and neck. Most of the group was cheering for Jia, but Hoseok had a few supporters, Jimin being one of them. He’d just joined the crowd of onlookers, which had steadily increased in number as the game went on.

“You got this, Hope!” he shouted from beside you.

You looked over at him and he smiled back at you.

“Who do you think will win?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Jia’s got more experience, but Hobi’s fast. My bet’s on Jia.”

“I’ll take that bet,” he said holding out a hand. “One token.”

“Deal,” you agreed and shook his hand. It was the most contact you’d had with Jimin since the beginning of the tour. Had he noticed too?

In the end Hoseok won out by a margin of one percentage point. Jia made a show of begrudgingly handing over her tokens, which Hoseok took with glee. You grabbed Jimin by the wrist and pressed one of your own tokens into his palm.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said. His smile was so bright that you couldn’t help but laugh. Even though you lost, you were happy that things finally felt normal between the two of you again. Like it had felt before everything had happened. It gave you hope that you could eventually get back to this place with Jungkook, too.

The crowd dispersed a little bit. Jimin went to go play a first-person shooter game with Yoongi. Hoseok and Namjoon were by the liquor table while Hanyuel poured each of them a drink, and Jia had gone off to find Tae, which gave you time to make your way around the room and talk to a few other people you’d gotten to know a bit over the last couple of months. You were on your third drink when you were pulled over to the karaoke booths with Tae, Jia, and Jin.

“I need you to lend me your vocal talents for a duet.”

“’Vocal talents’ is a bit of a reach, Jin,” you replied.

“Whatever you can bring to the table. Doesn’t have to be good. Please?” he said, extending the last word into a whine.

“Jin, I don’t think you know just how terrible of a singer I am,” you said.

“I don’t care! Be the worst singer possible! I just need someone to do a duet with me,” he said, sticking his lower lip out in a pout for extra effect. You were hit with the full force of Jin’s puppy-dog stare, and how could anyone say no to that?

“Suit yourself,” you said with a shrug. You looked around the room to see who was in the vicinity, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of too many people, but it seemed like everyone else was off in their own world.

Clambering into the booth, you watched as Jin picked out the song he wanted. It was a ballad that you were familiar with. You already knew you wouldn’t be able to hit the high notes.

“Shit, Jin. This is going to be a disaster.” He chuckled in response.

“I think that’s the point.”

The music started. He began his part in a low tenor. As always, he sounded like an angel. He finished out his verse with no issue. Then came your turn. It took you three notes before you were already off-key.

You managed you get back on key before the end of the verse, and Jin had to take deep breaths to regain composure for his next verse since he’d been stifling laughter from the moment you began singing.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

Karma was swift. He messed up his own verse because he couldn’t stop laughing. You figured you might as well just lean into it at that point, so when your next turn came around, you sang even louder, and much worse. Your voice cracked as you belted out a high note that was at least two notes below what it should have been.

Jin joined you, voice jumping up an octave. You both sang as loudly and as terribly as you could for the rest of the song, and when it ended, you were met with boos from the booth next door, where Taehyung and Jia had supposedly been playing (though you were pretty sure you hadn’t heard any singing coming from that booth).

“Thanks for being a good sport,” Jin said.

“Anytime.”

“I’ll save you from having to endure another game with me,” he said. “I think I’m going to get myself a drink.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. You didn’t think you could make it through another song. Your throat was already raw from the first one.

Jin was the first to exit the booth. You made to follow him when you just about ran headfirst into someone’s chest. You looked up to see Yoongi, grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

“Don’t tell me you caught that,” you said, backing into the book and making room for him to enter.

“When did you get so good at singing?” he asked. It took a moment for your brain to register his hand already planted firmly on your hip.

“Don’t,” you said, even though you couldn’t suppress the smile creeping along your face.

“No, really. I’ve never heard anyone sound so incredible,” he continued. “You simply must give me the name of your vocal coach.”

“Stop it,” you whined.

“Think you could give me some pointers?” he asked, placing his other hand over his chest. His tone was laced with false sincerity.

“God damn it, Yoongi,” you said, knowing he was relishing the opportunity to tease you. You crossed your arms in front of you and pouted. “Ha, ha. That’s very funny.”

“Forgive me,” he said, thumb brushing over your hipbone. You couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks.

The intimacy of the moment wasn’t lost on Yoongi. His laughter died down to a smile as he placed the other hand on your opposite side. It was forward, even for Yoongi, but not unwelcome in the least.

Your back hit the wall of the karaoke booth, and you sank into it. Yoongi’s warmth and the dark of the booth giving you the odd feeling of hibernation.

“Hey,” he said, softening.

“Hey.”

You couldn’t help but smile in his presence. In all the chaos, Yoongi had become the only thing keeping you grounded.

In any other instance, this sort of touch would seem dangerous, but this one felt right in a way you couldn’t explain.

“How have you been?” he asked.

“I’ve been okay,” you said. “Better, at least. You?”

He ran his tongue along his teeth. His thumbs tightened their grip on your hips for just a moment.

You read that for what it was.

“Still having issues with the mixtape?” you asked.

He sighed and leaned into you. You stroked his back comfortingly.

“They postponed it again.” Ah. That would explain why he was extra touchy. He probably needed it just as much as you.

“How long?” you asked, stroking his back comfortingly.

“Indefinitely.”

“Fuck, man. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know what I was expecting, to be honest,” he said, face still buried in your shoulder. “All the signs pointed to that outcome.”

“I don’t think it’s wrong to have expected them to keep their word.”

“Naïve, then.” He sank more of his weight against you.

“Do you want to go back to the hotel?” you asked. You’d talked to everyone you wanted to talk to. Besides, spending time with Yoongi sounded like less of a drain on your social battery. He nodded into your shoulder.

“Let’s go, then. I’ve had my fill of fun.”

You led him out of the karaoke booth and weaved in and out between the other crewmembers partaking in the various games the arcade had to offer.

Jimin and Tae were in the middle of a racing game. The tip of Jimin’s tongue poked out between his teeth in his concentration. You chuckled. He was cute.

Yoongi now led the way, rushing to the side door. You hurried to keep up with him, but stopped short when you caught sight of the basketball hoops.

Jungkook had his arms wrapped around Yeona, hands covering hers as she held the orange ball between them. He guided her movements, dipping down with a slight bend in the knees, and springing up to release the ball. It soared in the air, bouncing once on the rim of the hoop, and tipped to the side.

Yeona turned toward him, still in between his arms and pouted. He mirrored her pout before his lips pulled up into a bunny smile.

Long fingers wrapped around your wrist. You looked over to their owner. Yoongi stared at you intensely, making sure your focus was on him and not on the scene happening behind you.

He began to pull you once again towards the exit. This time, you kept your eyes on him, refusing to look back, no matter how much you wanted to.

Outside, a black SUV had pulled up to the door. Yoongi opened the door for you and guided you inside. You slid over to make room for him.

“Back to the hotel?” asked the driver. You guessed these were their own personal chauffeurs, rather than the hotel shuttle the rest of the crew used.

“Yes, thank you,” Yoongi said, and slipped a folded bill to the driver.

The SUV pulled away from the city block. Streetlights passed by as you made your way back to the hotel in relative silence.

Images of Jungkook and Yeona staring at each other replayed in your head.

Fuck.

Your nails dug themselves into your palms.

You’d thought it was just a one-night thing. You didn’t think there was anything between the two of them.

A lump rose in your throat.

Yoongi squeezed your hand again. You looked back at him, and he offered up a somber smile.

There was nothing you could do about it now. You resolved to be present with Yoongi, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb and trying to mirror his sentiment.

The ride to the hotel was quiet, both you and Yoongi content to exist separate, but alongside one another.

When you pulled up to the hotel, Yoongi escorted you by the hand through the lobby, into the elevators, and down the hallway, coming to a stop before the door to his suite.

He took a few minutes to fumble around in his wallet for his keycard. “Which hotel are we at again?” he asked, He flipped through what looked to be all the key cards he had used while on tour.

“You don’t turn them in at checkout?” you asked, scandalized.

“Don’t tell mom,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Ah, it’s this one.”

He pulled out a bright blue and yellow key card and shoved it into the slot on his door before the small lights on the panel lit up green. He just barely cracked the door open before stopping and turning to you.

“Do you want to come in?” he asked.

You recognized the real question hidden beneath his words. It was the first time either of you were openly acknowledging the possibilities that existed just beyond that door. There was no telling what would happen if you spent the night with him. For a brief second, you contemplated cutting the night short and going back to your room.

A knot twisted in your stomach, but you knew your answer.

“Yes,” you said firmly.

He scanned your face, looking for any cracks in your resolve, and when he found none, he nodded.

He just barely got the door open a few more centimeters, however, when the door across the hall opened.

“Oh!” said a soft voice behind you.

Looking over your shoulder, you watched Hoseok’s eyes as they looked from you to Yoongi, and then to your intertwined hands. A parade of emotions flitted over his facial features. Surprise. Confusion. Disappointment.

“Walk away,” Yoongi said before Hoseok had a chance to finish registering.

“Yoongi…,” he said with a note of accusation.

“This doesn’t concern you.” Yoongi’s voice was firm. Determined.

“Don’t do this.” Hoseok’s eyes were pleading. You knew he desperately wanted to finish out the tour without any more drama.

Yoongi turned to you. He brought your joined hands to his lips. “Go wait in the room,” he said softly. “I’ll just be a minute.”

You made no move.

Yoongi sighed again. “Okay fine. Stay here then.”

He turned again to Hoseok. “I know what this looks like. And you’re right. But it’s more complicated than that.”

“What’s complicated about it? You heard what Namjoon said. We all agreed.”

“I know, okay? I’m aware.”

“So then what are you doing?”

“Look. I get that you’re not happy about this, but you need to walk away.”

Hoseok looked taken aback. Yoongi had never outright gone against Namjoon’s wishes. He seemed at a loss for words for a moment, finally sighing and shaking his head. “I can’t lie for you.”

“I’m not asking you to. Just don’t go out of your way to tell anyone what you saw.”

“You know who I’m worried about,” he said.

“If he finds out, I’ll deal with it.”

You could see Hoseok was backed into a corner on this one, and you hated that the two of you were doing that to him, but you shared the same stance as Yoongi on this one.

When the realization that he had no other options fully dawned on Hoseok, he rolled his eyes.

“If he outright asks, I can’t help you.”

“Good enough for me,” Yoongi said with an air of finality, and abruptly grabbed your hand once more, pulling you into the room with him. You had just enough time to register the disappointment that had reappeared on Hoseok’s face. You hoped he could one day forgive you for this.

You hoped you could forgive yourself.

____

Once inside, the energy shifted to something quieter. The air between the two of you grew heavy.

You didn’t realize you were waiting for Yoongi to take the lead until he finally spoke.

“I, uh…, still have that other joint. If you wanted to finish it.”

“Oh! Yeah, actually. That would be great. Thank you.”

Yoongi went to rifle around in his suitcase, ultimately procuring a glasses case. Inside was the joint and a lighter.

It was oddly intimate, seeing where he stored his drugs. Like you were one of the only people he’d ever shared that little bit of information with.

“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing for you to follow him into the bathroom of the suite.

Inside, he turned the shower on its hottest setting, allowing the room to fill up with steam before flicking on the vent fan.

“Where’d you learn this trick?” you asked.

“Back home in Daegu,” he said. “I smoked a lot to deal with the stress of living with my parents. In the winters, it would be too cold to go outside, so sometimes I would smoke in the shower to hide the smell. You?”

“In college,” you said. “My roommate taught me a bunch of ways to cover the smell.”

“What was your go-to?” he asked.

“Fabric softener in a toilet paper roll.”

He chuckled, placing the end of the joint between his lips and lighting it. “Nice,” he said, still holding his breath while the smoke filled his lungs, before finally exhaling a cloud of smoke. It curled into the air before being sucked up by the vent fan along with the rest of the shower steam.

He passed the joint to you. You took a drag, immediately feeling the relaxation set in. It was much-needed.

You weren’t sure why you were going through with this. The logical side of you knew that it was objectively a bad idea, yet you also knew that there was no way in hell you were backing out. You were done suffering. You needed a break, even if it was just for the night. You owed yourself that much, consequences be damned.

“Sorry about Hoseok,” he said.

Whether it was the weed or the situation, you couldn’t help but snort.

“I’m sorry,” you said, recovering. “But could his timing possibly be worse?”

Yoongi shrugged, grinning at you.

You sank down to the bathroom floor, resting your back against the tub. He followed, sitting beside you.

“Tell the truth,” you asked. “Are we in deep shit?”

Yoongi said nothing, but the corners of his mouth pulled down in an exaggerated wince. You took another deep drag, held it in for a few moments, and exhaled, offering the joint to him.

He took one more drag before squeezing the cherry out from the end and placing the half-spent joint on the counter. Then he wrapped his hand around yours. You chanced a glance up at him. He was focused on where his thumb swiped back and forth across yours.

“One, two, three, four,” he muttered. “I declare a thumb war.”

You sprang to action, trying in vain to wrap your thumb around his. You managed to evade him for a few seconds before his long fingers ultimately won out and pinned your thumb down against your intertwined hands.

After savoring his victory, he resumed caressing your hand with his.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, to be honest,” he said and stood, offering you his other hand. He pulled you to your feet with a surprising amount of strength. “But when it does, we’ll deal with it the best we can.”

He turned the shower off and led you over to the bed, where you sat.

“Need anything to sleep in?” he asked.

“That would be great. Thanks.”

Once again, he rifled around in his luggage, this time producing an oversized cotton shirt and a pair of gray sweats.

For a moment, you considered going to the bathroom to change. Were you ready for him to see you? He already had done so once, back in LA after your drunken rendezvous, but this felt different. This meant something.

You looked over to Yoongi, who had pulled out another soft cotton shirt. Without glancing at you, he stripped off the one he was wearing.

You’d seen him shirtless, but you were drunk for that and couldn’t remember too much.

He was pale. Slender.

His abdomen sloped down from soft ribs to the slightest bit of pudge right below his navel. A very faint scar ran across his right side, right next to his hip bone.

That was as much studying of his body as you could do before bare skin was replaced with black cotton.

His hands dropped to his belt. Long fingers slipped the leather out of the buckle with ease before working the button on his jeans. He slid his pants down his thighs to reveal generic plaid boxers. He placed the discarded clothes in a pile next to his suitcase and looked at you.

“Okay if I sleep in my boxers?”

“Yeah,” you croaked past a mouth that was suddenly drier than before. “That’s fine.”

He nodded. You waited a beat.

He continued to observe you, patient. It was your turn. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you unbuttoned your jeans and pushed them off your hips. You could hear Yoongi inhale sharply through his nose, but you didn’t dare look at him. You didn’t have to—you could feel his gaze boring into your skin.

You didn’t give him too much time before you replaced your jeans with the sweatpants he’d lent you, though you also didn’t hesitate before pulling your top over your head. After a moment’s pause, you decided to remove your bra.

His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, but that was the only break in his poker façade. You gave him a moment to take in the sight of you, as he had done, before slipping the white cotton shirt over your head and finally meeting his gaze.

He looked at you calmly, but with intention. Like he wanted you to know he was looking at you on purpose.

He gestured for you to get in the bed, which you did while he fetched two large glasses of water.

“Room service?” he asked.

You smiled. “I’m not hungry, but I could go for a cup of chamomile.”

“Coming right up.”

His suite was equipped with an electric kettle and an assortment of teas. As Yoongi busied himself filling it and heating up the water, you took the opportunity to snuggle into his king-sized bed.

Pressing your toes into the sheets, the soft pillow-topped mattress sank down beneath you. The sheets were cool to the touch; the down comforter on top of you warm and heavy.

The bedding smelled like expensive detergent—the kind that barely smelled like anything. You caught a whiff of lavender and sandalwood. Searching for the source, you found a large white candle on the desk across from the bed.

“Did you bring a candle with you?” you asked.

“Came in a gift basket sent by the hotel,” he said, not looking up from where he was preparing the tea bag.

Funny, you had always assumed hotels didn’t allow candles, but you supposed the rules were different for celebrities.

“Can I light it?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

You hopped out of bed and grabbed the lighter off the bathroom counter. Candles were a comfort you didn’t realized you’d missed so much while on the road.

It wasn’t three minutes before the room had been enveloped in the soothing aroma. Yoongi inhaled deeply as he brought two mugs of tea over to the bed.

“I’ve never been much of a lavender guy, but this one isn’t half bad.”

“Really?” you asked, taking a steaming mug from his outstretched hand and sitting up cross-legged in the bed.

“You seem surprised,” he said, sipping his own mug.

“I don’t know,” you said. “I never pictured you being so particular.”

“I’ve just always preferred woody and musky over floral.”

“Ah,” you said, scooting over to make room for him. He sat facing you, cross-legged on the bed. His hair was slightly mussed from when he changed earlier and you couldn’t think of a time when he looked more real to you.

“So do you want to talk about it?” you asked. “The label?”

“Not really,” he said in between sips of tea. “I’ve had to process enough disappointment this tour. I think I’m going to find some joy first.”

“That sounds like much better idea.”

He smiled sideways and lifted his mug up in salute. You followed.

“Joy’s been hard to come by these days,” you said.

He sighed. “It’s hard when your version of joy doesn’t match up with the things that are supposed to be fun.” He used air quotes around ‘supposed to.’

“What do you mean?”

“The arcade. I know it’s Hanyuel’s way of helping everyone blow off steam and have fun. And it’s not that it’s not fun. But it’s just…,”

“...not the kind of fun you need?” you asked.

He nodded.

“What kind of fun do you need?” you asked.

He glanced over at you, deadpanning.

A bundle of nerves tugged at your stomach.

Oh. Right.

“How’re we doing on time?” he asked.

You looked back at the clock behind him. It was nearing midnight.

“I’d say we have probably an hour before he finds out. Two if we’re lucky.”

“Better make it count, then.”

It was your turn to raise your mug in salute. You drained the remainder of your tea and handed him the mug to set beside him on the end table, along with his own.

Then he stretched out on the bed and wiggled a bit until he felt comfortable. “Come here.”

You wasted no time in snuggling into his side. With your head on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat racing. He was nervous too. The fact gave you some sense of comfort.

“It okay if we just stay like this for a while?” you asked.

“Sounds perfect to me,” he said, stroking your hair with his palm. “We don’t have to do anything, you know.”

“I know,” you said, lacing your fingers through his. “Thank you.”

He nuzzled his nose into your hair, punctuating the action with a kiss on your head. You snuggled lower into the bed, pulling the covers up to your shoulder, heart fluttering in temporary safety. “Can we listen to something?” you asked.

“Like what? Music? Podcast?”

You shrugged. “Anything is fine.”

He took out his phone and connected it to a Bluetooth speaker on his nightstand. “Ambient jazz okay?”

“Perfect.”

The first few notes of a soft piano melody played through the speakers, slow and romantic. The kind you could see yourself swaying back and forth to with a lover. A kind of dance that was entirely foreign to you. You’d taken lessons on every single style of dance you could find. Perfected choreography with the technical skills of a master. And yet you’d never done the simplest of dances. The kind that erupts spontaneously between two people who simply want to connect.

You could see it happening with Yoongi. It would be so easy with him. Almost effortless.

You wished the timing had been better. That you’d connected with Yoongi first before everything with Jungkook had happened. That you didn’t have a mess of emotion to clean up before you could even consider being with anyone, let alone your best friend.

At least you had tonight. In his room, burrowed under his sheets, with his arm around you, you could forget about all of that, at least for the moment. And you were determined to make the most of it.

“Yoongi?” you asked.

“Mmm—yeah?” he mumbled, voice thick with near sleep.

You didn’t know what you wanted to say. ‘I love you?’ ‘Kiss me?’ ‘Stay here forever?’

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

_________

People often told Hoseok that he worried too much. That he needs to assume that things will be okay, but the truth is that Hoseok could smell out trouble long before anyone else. He clenched his fists as he paced back and forth at the hotel bar, trying to figure out if he should warn Namjoon about what was likely to happen.

What would Namjoon even be able to do? Make sure Jungkook stays clear in case they come out of the room? Keep him out so that he wouldn’t have to hear anything through the hotel’s thin walls?

He scrubbed a palm over his hand for the millionth time and ordered himself a drink.

He told Yoongi he would stay out of it. And stay out of it he will. And when shit inevitably hits the fan, he is going to keep his head down and mind his business until this unlucky tour is over and he can finally catch a break.

_________

You must have drifted off, because when you next opened your eyes, the room was dark. The light was off, and Yoongi had blown out the candle on the nightstand. The music continued to play softly through the speaker as you scanned the room for what had woken you up.

Slowly, your consciousness drifted downwards, to the thigh resting between your knees.

You inhaled deeply and squeezed your eyes shut. It was mere inches from you. God, it was like the universe was taunting you. Doing everything it could do to get you to crack under the pressure.

You shifted slightly, trying to ease some of the discomfort that was only growing more pronounced by the second. It did nothing to quell the ache.

Could you roll over without waking Yoongi? Move to the other side of the bed? Even go to the bathroom to relieve yourself? Hell, if the coast was clear, you could even go to your room without anyone noticing.

You shifted again, body begging for you to do something. His thigh was right there, tucked neatly in between yours.

Was Yoongi awake? You glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. It had been an hour and a half since you’d gone to bed. He must be asleep, right? He wouldn’t have stayed up that late. You wanted to check, but you didn’t want to disturb him.

You shifted once more, trying in vain to ease the tension that had begun to take over your whole form.

Alas.

That must have been one too many times, because without warning, Yoongi tightened his hold on you. You froze in place, breathing as quietly and gently as possible.

Slowly, without moving anything else, Yoongi hiked his leg up so that his thigh rested firmly against you.

You couldn’t stop the breath that hitched in your throat.

It was as if you were frozen in time.

“Move,” he whispered.

“Okay.”

You fisted your hand into the neck of his shirt and rocked into him. And the part of you that had been drowning for months finally surfaced for air.

You rolled your hips again and a whimper fell from you lips. Fuck, it was needed. After weeks of denying yourself, you could almost cry out in gratitude.

Yoongi’s hand wrapped firmly around your thigh and hoisted it up over his hips. You could feel him already hard beneath you and wondered how long he’d been awake. Had he woken up when you did? Was he wrestling with the same indecisiveness about what needed to happen between the two of you?

But then he climbed on top of you, and you had a hard time remembering what you’d even been thinking about because his hands had braced themselves on either side of your arms and his face hovered over yours, his breaths labored. Fuck. Shit.

“This okay?” he whispered, lips just barely brushing against yours, and you skin vibrated where he touched it.

Ah.

“Yeah,” you breathed, struggling to stay aware of your surroundings, because his hips had now taken the place of his thigh and they were grinding into you.

Yoongi wrapped one of his perfect hands around the back of your neck and slid his thumb along the column of your throat, up towards your jaw and over to your mouth.

“I remember this,” you muttered against it as he traced over your lips.

“Is that so?” he asked, stretching your bottom lip towards your chin, taking in its softness. “You gave me hell that day,” he said, hooking his thumb around your bottom row of teeth and using force to open your mouth even wider, just as he had done back in LA the first time you’d smoked together.

“I give you hell every day,” you countered.

He rocked into you, causing you to jolt upwards at the contact. You were extra sensitive. “One of my favorite things about you.”

You arched back, exposing more of your throat to him, which he gladly attached his lips to. Pulling you closer with one arm, he grabbed your hand with the other and pinned it above your head before caressing you from wrist to waist. Once he got to the hem of your (his) shirt, he wasn’t shy about slipping his hand underneath and cupping your breast.

He immediately realized that this level of contact wasn’t quite enough for him, and before you had time to process what was happening, he had slipped the shirt entirely off your body, lips coming to close around a nipple.

“Aren’t we eager?” you teased.

“It has been two years since I’ve had a titty in my mouth,” he murmured, not bothering to remove his lips from you as he said it. You grinned at his cheekiness and cradled his head in your hands, taking in how the strands of his hair slipped easily past your fingers. You’d have to ask him later what conditioner he used.

Sighs escaped from your throat almost without your notice. Saliva pooled in your mouth and you had to swallow thickly to accommodate the excess. Yoongi’s tongue circled your nipple, gently sucking and causing it to pebble between his lips.

Once he was satisfied with the first, he moved over to the second, giving it equal attention. With one final long suck, he backed off your breasts, admiring his work for a moment before taking one in each hand and pushing them together, at which you had to laugh.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

“Oh, you already are,” he said before planting his face in the cleavage he had made.

Yoongi was, by all rights, a kid in a candy store.

“You have the best boobs, you know that?” he said, voice muffled on either side by your breasts.

“Can we continue, or are you just going to play with my boobs all day?” you asked.

He finally looked up and caught your eye. “It’s tempting,” he said, before reattaching his lips to your neck and nipping at the skin.

At the same time, he hooked your thigh over his hip and rocked into you once again, and immediately, you were back under his spell, marveled at how Yoongi could oscillate back and forth between two seemingly polar opposites. He was sexually assertive while still retaining a playful innocence you would find refreshing, if it weren’t for the fact that he kept getting distracted. Then again, perhaps you were too goal-oriented, and could stand to have some fun exploring his body as well.

“Yoongi,” you whispered.

“Mmm?”

“Take this off,” you said, tugging at the hem of his shirt. He removed it swiftly, the warmth of his chest now pressing against yours.

_________

Jungkook downed yet another shot of vodka.

“Do you want to go back to your room?” Yeona asked.

“No,” he scowled, not looking at her.

“Can you please not be like this?” she pleaded. “I just want to have a good time.”

He shrugged. “Go find someone else, then.”

He fully knew he was being an ass and she didn’t deserve it, but he wasn’t in the mood to be courteous.

She sighed and stomped off. He’d have to apologize to her later, but he couldn’t think about that now.

Yeona, as nice as she was, was no longer serving her purpose of helping him forget about you. And how could she, really? It was impossible. You were everywhere. Everything reminded him of you.

From the moment you began working at the company, you drove him crazy. Everything about you captured his attention. But you’d always been so by-the-book. Your commitment to professional boundaries rivaled even Namjoon’s. There was no way in hell he even stood a chance.

No way in hell, until that day in rehearsal, when you crashed into his world in a very real way and shook him to his core. From that moment on, all he could think about was you.

He could hear any song and think of how your hips swayed when you danced. Someone would tell him a joke or a funny story, and all he could do was think about the way you’d laugh if you were there to hear it. At night, whether it’s his hand or Yeona’s lips wrapped around himself, all he could see was your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked him.

So when he caught sight of Yoongi’s hand clasped over your wrist, pulling you out the door, it struck him like a hammer to the chest.

That had been over an hour ago. Neither of you had come back.

He poured himself another a shot. _______

“How’s that?”

“Shhh, it’s fine. Just don’t stop.”

Yoongi’s face was buried between your thighs, lapping at you like a man dying of thirst and you were a desert oasis. He had his first two fingers inside of you, sliding over your g-spot while his tongue performed unholy acts on your clit.

“Faster,” you pleaded. Without hesitation, he picked up his pace. You were already hurling towards climax, but you had no intention of holding back, and neither did Yoongi.

You dug your fingers into his scalp and pulled him closer.

_________

Namjoon had seen Jungkook drunk before, but something was off with him this time. On the surface, he looked like he was having fun, but there was an undercurrent of intensity that spelled trouble.

After leading the group for so long, identifying signs that something was off had become second nature to Namjoon.

Jungkook had been acting weird the entire tour, so he knew something was up. He suspected it had something to do with you, but he wasn’t sure of all the details.

“Taehyung!” he called over when the younger man flitted across his periphery.

“What’s up?”

“Do you know what’s been going on with Jungkook?” he asked.

Taehyung sighed.

“I don’t know, man. Something’s up with him. I thought he was fine last week, but I’m not so sure.”

“Keep an eye on him for me tonight, would you? Make sure he doesn’t get into trouble. He’s been hitting the liquor pretty heavily.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Somehow Taehyung’s reassurance didn’t ease the sinking feeling in Namjoon’s gut.

_______

“Fuck, just like that,” Yoongi growled out.

He was on his back as you knelt between his legs and massaged his balls. Saliva trickled down your chin, but you kept a steady rhythm while you sucked. Every once in a while, he’d jolt forward and slam into the back of your throat, causing you to cough and sputter, but he was gaining more and more control over his movements, while you gradually relaxed into it, finally able to find a rhythm that worked.

His hands moved on their own accord, raking themselves through your hair, grabbing fistfuls and pulling you towards him, before moving down to caress your face or massage your shoulders.

His breathing sped up, chest rising and falling beautifully, eyes screwed tightly shut in concentration. You watched while his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down whenever he swallowed.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Please?”

Hearing him beg did something to you. You doubled down on your movements, letting him hit the back of your throat over and over.

“GOD! Fuck! Damn it!”

His hips began to thrust into you. You tried your best to accommodate the movement, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Shit, baby, please?”

The pet name caused your lower abdomen to tense up with want. You never thought he’d call you ‘baby’ but hearing it gave you such immense satisfaction. At that moment, your singular purpose was to give him the best blowjob of his life. He fucking deserved it.

You relaxed your throat even more, allowing him to go as deep as he wanted. Tears streamed down your face and you had no room to even breathe, but you held out.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he grunted.

He’d barely gotten the words out when his hands gripped either side of your head, his hips sputtered, and ropes of hot cum shot down your throat. You stayed and dutifully swallowed it all before finally coming up for air.

He immediately pulled you down on the bed with him and began peppering kisses all along your neck.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” he said in between kisses to your sweat-logged skin. You barely even heard, still trying in vain to catch your breath.

He buried his forehead into your shoulder and caressed you as your breathing returned to normal.

“I have never appreciated anyone in my life more than I appreciate you right now, at this moment,” he mumbled into your collarbone, punctuating it with a kiss. And you knew that was an exaggeration, but you also believed he meant it more than he didn’t.

“Yoongi?” you breathed.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss my neck.”

You knew you could stop now, but there was so much more of him you wanted, no needed, to experience.

Yoongi complied eagerly, nipping at the soft skin as you arched your back and revelled in the sensation. There were no thoughts. Nothing existed outside this room. There was only Yoongi, consuming you with a fiery passion. You wished the night would never end. Morning would never come and you could stay there with him forever. Nothing would make you happier.

________

“Where the fuck is she?!” Jungkook shouted as he punched the target. It swung upwards, locking into place at the top of its swing while the machine calculated his points. He received the highest score of anyone so far that night.

“Easy, man. Relax. She’s probably back at the hotel. You know she doesn’t do large crowds unless she’s dancing.”

Taehyung patted his friend’s shoulder, trying to soothe him the best he could. He’d been trying to do that all night, but it was no use. Jungkook was spiraling out of control. Taehyung knew he had to get him back to his room fast, but he didn’t want to risk crossing paths with you or Yoongi and setting him off even worse.

“Come on. Why don’t we go back to the hotel and order some food?”

“I’m not hungry,” Jungkook insisted, but followed out the door anyway.

As he loaded Jungkook into the cab, he pulled out his phone to text Namjoon.

[Taehyung 2:13 AM: You'd better come back to the hotel. I think we're in for a rough night.]

_______

“Condoms?” you panted. Yoongi looked up from where he’d been nuzzling below your jaw. “If you can go again, that is.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, hopping off the bed. He rummaged around in his suitcase and produced a small convenience store bag with a brand new box of condoms. He paused to deliberate for a second and then reached back in to grab a small bottle of lube. You couldn’t help but smile.

“When did you buy this?” you asked.

“Honest answer?” he said. You nodded.

“The day we left LA. I paid a staff member to go out and grab some for me.”

“I never would have guessed. You practically ignored me after that day.”

He smiled, climbing back onto the bed. “Had to make you work for it. You were too entitled.”

“Min Yoongi!” you scolded, shocked.

“Don’t give me that,” he said, hand coming to rest on your pubic bone while his thumb glided between your folds. You arched into his touch. “You know all too well you were totally spoiled with attention by the time you made your way to me. That’s why you were so shocked when I denied you.”

Something about what he said stuck with you. He was right, and it was a truth that had been too painful to confront until now.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t let it get to you, okay? You made mistakes, but you’ve also learned from them. That says a lot more about you than you realize.”

You looked back up at him and you could tell he meant it.

“Plus, you’re already serving your sentence. Don’t punish yourself more than you need to, okay?”

You exhaled through your nose, determined. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He took a condom out from the box. “Help me with this?”

______

Yoongi groaned as he pushed into you. Fuck, he needed this. Holy shit, did he need this.

A small part of him felt a little guilty. He knew he was betraying Namjoon’s trust. And if he were honest with himself, that devastated him. But he also knew that there was no way around this.

Fingernails dug into his hips. You let out a shy gasp as he pushed into you again.

He wanted to be the obedient one. The team player. Like Hoseok. Or Seokjin. Or Namjoon. And ninety-nine percent of the time, he was. But every once in a while, he needed some grace.

It was exhausting, having to look out for so many people’s interests. There were people whose livelihoods depended on him behaving in a way becoming of a public figure. Yours, even.

It’s not that he minded all the time. He enjoyed his role. But he had needs.

Sexual needs, sure. But he could take care of those on his own. He needed connection.

What he really wanted was to connect with his fans through music. He knew there were people who would hear his tracks and understand him. He needed to be known, and that was hard to come by these days.

But then he hung out with you, and for once, he felt understood. There was something—a vibe you shared when it was just the two of you—that took a little bit of the sting away. And there in that bedroom, with you panting beneath him? It had been a long time since he’d felt so connected to anyone.

You let a breathy moan slip past your lips, and for all the work he’s done on his vocals, he knew he’d never produce a sound quite as intoxicating.

He bent over you, resting his weight on his forearms while he cradled the back of your neck between his hands, your skin slick with sweat. You had your entire body wrapped around him, nails digging into his shoulders and legs crossed over his hips.

In Yoongi’s opinion, you had never looked more beautiful. Or vulnerable. Seeing you look up at him through half-lidded eyes, already fucked out but so eager for more affected him more than he cared to let on.

Up until recently, he never paid you much thought. Of course, he’d found you attractive, but he never would have guessed you’d have anything in common. You always seemed so focused on dancing—a part of the job he loathed—that he never even bothered to start a conversation with you. He came into contact with so many attractive people that they all seemed to blend together.

That was, until he watched you slam back two shots of bottom-shelf whiskey, one right after the other. And then suddenly, you went from being a background character to a Real Person.

That night, you’d appeared in his fantasies as he was getting himself off. And many nights since. He thought about how you’d feel sheathed around him. How you would taste. What your moans would sound like. How your nipples would feel in his mouth. He thought about your body as if it were his own personal playground, and everything he wanted to do to it.

But as great as his fantasies were, they were nothing compared to you now.

You whined again as he pushed further into you, pussy sucking him in, swallowing him whole. You looked so innocent beneath him. Soft and supple and absolutely breathtaking. He couldn’t help himself from wrapping a hand around your throat. As soon as he did, you moaned and your eyes rolled back into your head.

“You like that?” he breathed, hoping he sounded sexy, but it was an honest question. Did you want him to choke you?

“Yes,” you moaned again, nodding enthusiastically.

He began slow, still sliding in and out of you ever so gently, making sure his grip on your throat wasn’t too tight. Your breath hitched as he moved. God, he fucking needed you. Needed to draw every gasp and moan out of you that he could. Needed to scratch and bite and absolutely ruin you.

“Yoongi?” Your voice came out high and needy and it just about broke him.

“Yeah baby?”

God, he’d never get over the way you sigh his name.

“I need more.”

Anything for you.

He sped up his movements, gripping your throat tighter as he went. Fuck, you were going to be the death of him.

_________

“She’s a liar!” Jungkook half-sobbed into Taehyung’s shoulder while the older man soothed him. They were back in Taehyung’s room, empty bowls of spicy noodles long forgotten. “She lied about everything! About wanting to focus on her career and not get distracted. About nothing going on between her and Yoongi. And then she goes off with him!”

He put extra emphasis on ‘him,’ as if he’d been using a slur.

“Jungkook, man, you’ve got to calm down, okay? You’re assuming a lot of things right now. We don’t know anything for sure until we’ve talked to them. So why don’t you get some rest and we’ll figure it out in the morning?”

“How can I sleep when all I can think about is what they’re doing?”

“Come on, man,” Taehyung pleaded. “Please, just stop thinking about it and go to bed. I am begging you. Nothing good is going to come out of staying angry all night. We have a performance tomorrow.”

Jungkook inhaled and exhaled through his nose for a few minutes before finally sighing and dropping his shoulders.

“You’re right,” he said at last. “I think I’m gonna go to my room.”

“I’ll walk you there.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine,” Jungkook reassured him.

“Promise? You’ll text if you need anything?”

“Promise.”

Jungkook sighed and left Taehyung’s room, fully intending to sleep as long as he possibly could. He was coming down off the liquor now and knew he was going to be in for a massive hangover tomorrow, as well as a lecture from Namjoon about binge drinking. But he could at least get some rest before he had to face the next day.

He slumped forward, trudging the short distance between Taehyung’s room and his when he heard it and his heart stopped.

He’d recognize that moan anywhere. He paused, listening for it again, this time pressing his ear to the door to see if he may have been imagining things.

Though it was muffled, it was unmistakably yours. He’d heard it on more than one occasion. He could practically see you under him, making those exact sounds. Those were your ‘fuck me harder’ moans.

He double-checked the room number to confirm. Yoongi’s room.

All the rage he’d worked so hard to suppress over the last hour flared up in seconds. You were unbelievable. After all that talk about wanting to focus on your career? Kicking him out after he fucking poured his heart out to you? This was a whole new level of betrayal.

Jungkook snapped.

“Yoongi! Open this fucking door right now!” he shouted, fist pounding as hard as it could against the solid wood. “Yoongi! I know you’re in there! At least look me in the face like a man while you stab me in the back!”

His fists never let up. Within seconds, several doors flew open. Hoseok’s was the first. He tried to pry Jungkook away, but the younger man easily overpowered him.

“Namjoon!” he called.

Almost instantly Namjoon was there, along with Taehyung and Jin. Together, the four of them were able to pull him away from the door.

“You fucking coward! You liar!” he shouted, this time half-sobbing.

“Get him to my room,” Namjoon directed the other members. “I’ll calm him down.”

"She's a liar," he sobbed once again. It came out quieter and more defeated. "She lied."

"I know, buddy. I know," Namjoon soothed as he dragged his friend towards his room.

Jungkook's sobs continued to echo down the hallway as he was dragged off. ________

“Yoongi! Open this fucking door right now!”

“Shit!” you whispered. The loud rapping on the door from Jungkook’s fists caused you to bolt upright, almost knocking face-first into Yoongi.

“I think he found out,” Yoongi said grimly, still holding on tight to you.

You trembled. You could hear the anguish in Jungkook’s voice. He sounded drunk. It was almost too much for you.

“Hey,” Yoongi said, pulling your chin towards him. “Eyes on me, okay? Stay with me.”

You nodded, trying to tune out the yelling coming from the other side of the door, but it was practically impossible.

“You fucking coward! You liar!” you heard Jungkook’s muffled shouts and it took everything in you to ignore him. You could tell he was talking to you directly and your heart shattered in real time.

“There’s nothing we can do about it now, okay? We will deal with it tomorrow. Tonight is for us, remember?”

You nodded, but couldn’t help the tears welling up behind your eyes.

“Shhh,” he soothed. “Stay with me, babygirl. I’ve got you.”

You paused your movements, Yoongi slowed his rhythm inside of you.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, kissing the palm of his hand that rested on your cheek.

“Want me to keep going?”

“Yeah.”

He picked up his pace once again. You fought to stay in the moment and not let what was going on outside distract you.

“Yoongi?” you asked.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me?”

This was the most vulnerable you’d been since that night back in LA with Jungkook, when you asked him to kiss you. And for half a second, you worried Yoongi would deny you the way Jungkook had.

But half a second was all Yoongi needed before he captured your lips in his.

You briefly registered the sounds of Jungkook being led to another room by what sounded like Namjoon, but after that, all you could focus on was the way Yoongi glided his tongue along your bottom lip, and you melted into it.

Yoongi was right. There wasn’t anything you could do about it now. Tonight was for you, and you were going to make it count. You did your best to stuff Jungkook to the back of your mind and concentrate solely on what was taking place right now.

It suddenly registered that this was the first time you and Yoongi had kissed. For all the teasing and touching you’d done, you’d somehow glossed over this bit of intimacy entirely.

You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. He tasted like whiskey and cigarettes. Harsher than you were used to, but not in a way you minded. His mouth moved in tandem with yours and you were content to let him take the lead, because you wanted nothing more than to drown in him.

He nipped at your bottom lip and you opened for him, granting his tongue entrance. He licked along the roof of your mouth, meeting your tongue with his.

At the same time, his thumb traveled down to draw circles over your clit. He continued to thrust into you, and between his hands, his cock, and his mouth, you were in full sensory heaven, unable to form a single thought.

He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, scraping over it with his teeth before capturing your lips in another wet, open-mouthed kiss, and you were very quickly overcome with such gratitude for his presence in your life. What you did to deserve him right now, you had absolutely no idea, but you wanted to do everything you possibly could to cherish him in that moment.

The kiss became less coordinated as his movements sped up, sometimes consisting of your lips connecting for a period of time while you both focused on the sensations happening elsewhere, and sometimes devolving into the two of you licking and sucking and biting any flesh you came into contact with.

Your hands roamed all over his body, searching for anything you could grab hold of. His speed continued to gain momentum, and you couldn’t help but scrape your nails down his back as he fucked himself into you. He moaned into your mouth, voice rough and gravelly and hollow.

His hands came to rest once again on your neck, using it as leverage to pull himself in deeper. He pulled back from the kiss to look at you, his eyes dark, wild, and half-focused on something you suspected wasn't even in the room. His hands pulsed around your throat, wanting to squeeze tighter, but not wanting to hurt you, while his movements grew sloppy.

Yoongi was fighting to stay in control, afraid of what he might do if he gave in to his most primal urges. You didn't want him to hold back. You wanted to see him at his most stripped down and vulnerable. You covered his hands with yours and squeezed them tighter around you.

He furrowed his brow in question, unable to form coherent thoughts but needing to make sure it was okay. You nodded, squeezing your hands even tighter over his.

It did not take him long to catch on. His movements sped up and his grip around your throat tightened. He gritted his teeth, pouring all his anger and bitterness into fucking you. You inclined your head to give him more room and smiled to yourself, relishing in the Min Yoongi you were receiving. This was Min Yoongi in his rawest form. Furious. Rough. Unrestrained. Empowered. He shared with you the very core of his being and you bathed yourself in it, needing it to consume you.

He fucked into you with all the speed and power he could muster, slamming over and over again with uncontained rage at everything he’d been forced to put up with for nearly a decade. All the broken promises and forced isolation. All the hours spent in meetings and learning dances and doing everything but what he truly wanted to do.

And in turn, you gave him everything, etching all your disappointment and frustration and regret into his back with your fingernails. Each mark you left was a story of a time you’d been failed by the people who were supposed to show up for you. Times you’d failed to show up for yourself. Times you’d failed to show up for the people you loved. You carved them into his skin with as much force as you could muster, sure you’d made him bleed.

“Why?” he growled through gritted teeth. It was low, barely audible, and you didn’t know the answer, but you nodded. You wanted to answer him. Tell him you didn’t know why either of you were going through what you were going through, but you could barely get anything past the vice-like grip he had on your throat.

“Why?” he asked again, this time voice a little more shaky, laced with pent-up frustration and tinged with sadness.

You stared into his eyes, at that point they were far past feral. Almost unhinged. You shook your head. You didn’t know why, but you knew how it made him feel. And that was enough.

Yoongi came with a strangled sob. As soon as he let go of your throat, the increase in oxygen and blood flow sent you directly into your climax. You rode out the rest of your high together, movements slowing as you came down.

Yoongi was shaking. At first you thought it was overstimulation until you heard the soft sobs coming from him. You wrapped him up in your arms as he collapsed onto you, sobbing into your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh,” you soothed. “Don’t be.”

“I don’t know why this is happening,” he whispered into you. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Probably just a big release of emotion. It’s happened to me before. Don’t stress about it.”

“It’s fucking embarrassing,” he said, though the tears didn’t slow at all.

“Let it out,” you said, stroking his back. “You probably need it.”

It was at that moment you felt your own emotions start to well up. What was going to happen to you after tonight? Would you still have a job to go to in the morning? If word had gotten back to the label, you might have a letter of termination in your inbox at that very moment.

You allowed yourself to feel it. Yoongi was the only safe space you had at the moment, and he wasn’t in any position to judge you for your emotions.

You and Yoongi held each other while you cried, each feeling separate emotions, but side-by-side. And when the crying stopped, you went to the bathroom and finished the rest of the joint. By that time, the crying had worn off, and you were left with a strange happy relaxation at having finally released everything that had been building up. Periodically, one of you would burst out into giggles over the course of events that had taken place that night, causing the other to erupt into laughter as well.

“I don’t know, man. That’s never happened to me before.” Yoongi kept repeating.

“It’s only happened to me once. I looked it up afterwards and apparently emotional flooding is normal after sex. Elevated hormones or something like that.”

“If you say so. Didn’t feel very normal to me. Felt good though.”

“Yeah, well guys aren’t as used to expressing emotions as we are.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “Usually, I express mine through music.”

“Hard to do when music’s the thing you’re disappointed about.”

“Don’t remind me,” he said. “Hey, by the way. Um, that? Was fucking incredible. No wonder everyone was fighting over you.”

“Stop,” you groaned, waving your hand in protest. “I don’t want to think about that.” He laughed and caught your hand in his.

“Okay. We won’t talk about anyone else. But can we talk about the fact that my shirt is now stained with blood because of your damn nails?”

“Um, what about the bruises on my neck? Those can’t be covered up so easily.”

“You didn’t seem to mind at the time,” he said, voice velvety smooth.

“Still don’t.”

“Is that so?” he asked, wrapping his arm around you and plucking the joint from your hand. “Seriously though,” he paused to take a drag. “That was incredible. Thank you.”

The tenderness in his voice caught you by surprise, but it was welcome. He looked you over once before taking another drag and bringing his lips to yours. He nipped on your bottom lip as a sign to open your mouth, and when you did, he exhaled the smoke, allowing you to inhale the drag he’d taken, before he continued kissing you. It was a surprisingly intimate act.

You finally broke apart to exhale, barely any smoke coming out, most of the drag having been spent between the two of you.

“Thank you,” you countered, eyes still closed, savoring the leftover taste of his lips. You couldn’t help but smile stupidly. “That was something else. I’m going to be fantasizing about that for months.”

“Doesn’t have to be a fantasy,” he said.

You laughed. “I doubt we’ll have that much pent-up anger to get out for a while.”

“What do you mean? There are tons of things to get angry about. Like how nosy Hoseok is.”

“Or how I might not have a job after today.”

The energy died a bit with that comment.

“You’re really stressed about that, huh?” he asked, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb and offering you the last hit of the joint before it was totally spent. You took it with gratitude.

“I don’t see how I’m keeping my job after this. Not after the spectacle Jungkook made.”

“You know whatever happens, I’m here for you, right? We’ll get through this together.”

“I know,” you said, standing and stretching. It was nearing sunrise by that point. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Yoongi.”

You crawled back into bed, kissing lazily until neither one of you could keep your eyes open. You fell asleep listening to his heartbeat, chest rising and falling under you as he stroked your hair, and you wondered if this was the last moment of peace you’d see for a long time. You hoped it’d be worth it.

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi smut #min yoongi #Jeon Jungkook jjk #angst #smut #bts #Kim namjoon #jung hoseok #Kim taehyung #bts x reader

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