#take me to the beach. you can disappear after I don’t mind I’m not needy. just spend a beautiful romantic week with me. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

terriblequalitymovie · 3 years

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His Kitten

Pairing: Niragi x Reader

Rating: (M) for language and explicit sex

Summary: Niragi catches you with Arisu and Chishiya too many times for his liking and thinks you’re getting a bit too comfortable

Warning: orgasm denial, cursing, degradation, no aftercare

A/N: I don’t even know yall, what type of shackles does this (fictional) man have on me.

***

It started as a normal day at the beach. The loud music echoing through the resort, the smell of alcohol and weed mixing in with chlorine, sweat and sunscreen. You laid back on the reclining chair, soaking up some much needed sun. Two newcomers passed by you, reminding you of yourself. It had been maybe two weeks since you found yourself in Borderland, and about a week and a half since you came to the beach. You tried not to think too much about how you ended up here, it was a bit hectic and made your head spin. You were visiting Tokyo with a couple of friends, and had gotten separated from them while sightseeing. You headed into a cafe and the next thing you knew you were the only one around, being forced to survive by playing games.

Since then however, you’d come to slightly accept your new found reality. You chuckled, your friends were probably back at work and you were catching a tan. Just as that thought brought a small smile to your face, you felt someone’s shadow fall over. You frowned, sitting up. Glasses being pushed atop your braids, you locked eyes with Usagi.

“In five minutes, get up and come to the rooftop.” She said, and then disappeared back into the crowd. You looked around, and then laid back against the seat, wondering what that was about. But five minutes later, you found yourself navigating towards the rooftop, making sure there were no militants in sight. You wouldn’t mind seeing Niragi, although if he caught you that would end in a number of ways that seemingly all ended in you being bruised. That thought both excited you and frightened you and you picked up your pace.

Up on the rooftop, you were hardly surprised to find Chishiya, Kuina, Usagi and Arisu. They all turned to you as the door slammed shut behind you. You looked between the four of them, a bout of confusion in your mind.

“You’re probably wondering why you’re here” Arisu said.

“Yeah probably.” You joked.

“The Hatter’s system is flawed, so we’re stealing the cards and figuring it out for ourselves.” Chishiya announced. Again, you looked at the four of them, your brow furrowed.

“Where do I come in? And how do I know you won’t throw me to the militants if we get caught?”

“That’s just a risk you have to take.”

You bit your lip, you agreed. The whole idea of collecting the cards solely for only the Hatter to return to the normal world was selfish and for lack of better word unfair. But would you be willing to die over playing cards? (Granted you could die at any given time in Borderland).

“Fine. I’m in.” You sighed.

After going over the plan, the five of you headed back inside. While Kuina and Usagi headed in one direction, you followed Arisu and Chishiya.

You were engaged in small talk, telling them where you were from and how you got there, when the Aguni, Niragi and a few of the other militants passed by. Niragi turned, sneering at the two men in front of you. His eyes met yours with a dark look, and another round of excitement and fear shot through you.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You said, puckering your lips. Talking to Niragi like that, especially in front of Aguni was brave, even for you. He stepped towards you, the grip of his gun tightening, but the smirk on your face didn’t falter.

“Careful y/n, don’t want me to lose my temper.”

But you did, you wanted to push his buttons and see what would happen. However, in front of Aguni and the militants, along with the two new friends (or allies you weren’t exactly sure what to call it) wasn’t the right place. You stepped back and looked away but the smirk didn’t fade completely. He huffed. Brat.

The three of you went your separate ways, your mind still reeling with Chishiya’s plan at the forefront. That was until the music stopped. The eerie silence meant one thing, games night. You sighed, and found your way to the entrance. Arisu, Chishiya, Usagi and Kuina were already there, and you found yourself climbing into the same car that they were.

6 of diamonds. That’s what had you chained to each other by the ankles. A mound of keys laid before you. Simple you thought, it’s like finding a needle in a haystack, but with metal keys and there’s a two hour time limit that ends in death. There were ten players in total, and each person could grab a key. They could only pass the keys to the person directly on either side of them, and once a key was out of rotation it couldn’t be used again. Of course, there were newcomers who were panicked about how they ended up in Borderland and the significance of the game. And a few players who weren’t thinking of the bigger picture. However with Chishiya and Arisu’s quick thinking, you weren’t too worried. With that confidence in mind, you grabbed a key.

One and a half painstaking hours later, you were free of your shackles. And rubbing at your ankles. Your fingers reeked of metal and you’d much rather be in your room.

Upon returning to the hotel, you and the others were in a surprisingly jovial mood. You had your arms wrapped around Chishiya and Arisu’s shoulders. Kuina made a comment about Arisu being a ladies man, which caused his cheeks to turn a rosy color and had you in a fit of laughter.

You were still chuckling, when the militants passed by again. Niragi shot a menacing glare in your direction, mean to scare you and the company, but you only felt heat pooling in your core. However, you stood up straight, letting your arms fall by your side.

It took a while to get back to your room, but your shoulders instantly relaxed just seeing the numbers. The room was dark, and you were sure you’d left the light on. The curtain was open, letting in the moonlight. The door closed behind you with a thud and you stepped forward slowly. Something was off in the room, but you weren’t sure what. That’s when you felt it, warm and wet against your neck.

“Niragi.” You breathed.

“Y/n” he answered.

“How did you get in here?”

“The door.” He answered simply, and you could tell he was smirking.

“But tell me y/n, did you have fun today?”

“Fun? Sure I guess.”

“Make a lot of friends?”

Your eyebrows knit together, it was unlike Niragi to care about something like that. You were about to answer, when you realized why he asked. He was jealous.

“Oh yes. Chishiya and Arisu are great company.” You gushed. Niragi finally stepped into the light, pushing you backwards onto the bed.

“But can they make you scream like I can?” He asked, licking another stripe across your neck. You let out a shuddering breath. All the plans for a bratty reply left your head, as he lifted your shirt, turning it into a makeshift restraint. His tongue continued down to your stomach and both of your legs. Effortlessly, he pulled off your shorts and bikini bottoms.

Niragi bites your thighs, pulling a gasp from your lips. His mouth finds your entrance, already soaked. Niragi eats you out like a man starved, his fingers gripping your thighs. His tongue lapped at your folds roughly, the piercing cold against your core. You wanted to touch him, to run your fingers through his hair. That’s exactly what you did, freeing yourself from the hold of your shirt, and rooting your hands in his hair. Abruptly, Niragi pulled away from you, the night air sending a shiver down your spine.

“Hands off pet.” He warned, pinning your hands above your head. You pouted, but it melted away as he returned to his ministrations. You whimpered, as your high crept up on you.

Niragi could feel your legs beginning to shake and he knew you were close. He stayed a few seconds more and then pulled away, with a devilish grin.

“Something wrong kitten?” He asked licking his lips. You frowned.

“I was so close.”

“I know kitten, but do you deserve to cum?”

You pouted, but it only made him chuckle. He runs his fingers along your thigh, the skin still sensitive from his bites. He gets closer to your core but pulls away at the last second.

You heave a sigh of frustration, and Niragi slaps your thighs. You were buzzing now, the tension of a denied orgasm tingling through you. He wanted you to beg, to hear your neediness, your submission.

“Beg.” Niragi slid his fingers slowly back into your dripping heat.

“Please.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Can’t hear you y/n.”

“Please!”

“Manners kitten, please who?”

“Please Niragi.” Niragi’s fingers were right where you needed them, his thumb rubbing circles into your clit. It didn’t take long for you to feel that tightening sensation again. He teased pushing his fingers in deeper, before pulling them out. You could practically taste it, the release that never came.

Niragi sucked his fingers, your eyes trained on the slender digits covered in your essence. He hummed, a popping sound could be heard as he pulled them out of his mouth. He was driving you crazy, and he loved every minute of it. You were practically trembling now, but you were at Niragi’s mercy.

The sound of his belt being unbuckled sends a shiver down your body. He pushed your thighs apart with his legs, dragging the tip of his dick against your clit. Niragi bent over you his hair falling into your face. His hand wrapped around your throat, and your back arched as he thrust into you all at once. He pulled back slowly, and before you know it he was fucking into you like his life depended on it. You couldn’t hold back your moans any longer, sure that everyone that lived in your hall could hear you. Niragi’s grip tightened around your throat his fingernails digging into your skin. The pain only pushed you further into pleasure. As you felt your orgasm approach a third time you wrapped your legs around Niragi’s waist, holding him in place. His name fell off your lips, the only coherent thing you could say, as your orgasm washed over you. You were breathless and tears streamed down your cheeks but that didn’t stop Niragi. He kept going, chasing after his own high. His teeth sunk into your skin, replacing his fingers.

“Fuck.” You hissed. His long tongue brushed over the broken skin, another hiss leaving your lips. Niragi’s thrusts grew sloppy and he pulled out, releasing onto your stomach. He wiped your tears, and squeezed your cheeks with his hand.

“So pretty like this pet, and all mine.”

#niragi x reader #niragi smut #alice in borderland

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dreams-of-yunho · 3 years

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o, swear not by the moon

yunho x princess reader

rating: m

genre: smut with a dash of angst

wc: 2.7k

warnings: sex !!!!!!! just kinda sex stuff idk

summary: you fell in love with the enemy and he breaks your heart

:( but in a sexc way

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O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, who monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

If the days were forgiving, you did not know. If there was love in this life, you could not feel it.

But, the day you met him, among the tulips, everything seemed to shine more brilliantly. Everything felt more warm.

Water coated your feet as you glided through the rain soaked grass, returning to your promised place. Dense mist hung in the cool night air. Drops of water hit your face as you slid through the leaf covered branches which concealed the forest alcove.

You had met him during the vibrant summer months, when the forest was at its fullest. When the leaves were green, bright moss clung to the sides of trees, shade living flowers thrived. But now, an eastern wind ran over your skin and the leaves turned brown and fell to a cold ground.

Blush coloured silk brushed across your goosebump covered skin as the breeze caught the hem of your dress. Lily Pads and their flowers shifted across the pond’s surface. This place, once a great temple, had been built by the ancient elders of your empire for the forest deities. And, as the old gods were lost to time and the first age passed, the once glorious house of worship became a forgotten forest alcove; a great willow tree grew, tall and proud, from the ruins of the marble temple. A murky pond who’s bottom seemed limitless and was concealed by delicate flowers, swayed around the stone foundation. Honeysuckle vines climbed towards the forest canopy across the decaying and crumbling pillars.

War had drained your spirits and left you cold and alone. You could barely remember the days before, when you were so young and ignorant. How the palace was alive with music, parties, and love. How your father and mother would kiss you goodnight and bid you farewell to the realm of dreams. Then, one day you woke and they were gone; that warmth drained.

The warrior princess, your mother was heir to the throne of the empire and, in a scandalous affair, married her younger brother’s best friend and general of the eastern army. They both died in battle, their bodies never returned to the royal capital for burial.

With the war came the clouds; heavy and gray. The sun seemed to disappear, die. So did the spirits of your people. Food became scarce, fathers and brothers were sent to war, and the raging fire of hope doused in an ocean of fear.

After years of brutal and unforgiving warfare, a caravan rode into the capital. Believing they had thoroughly gutted and drained your empire of all it was worth, the enemy came to commence talks of peace.

The son of the chief diplomat-- he came with his father to the palace and, now, sat at the edge of the half submerged temple stairs, kicking his feet in the chilly water.

“Yunho,” you called, the pond standing between you and him.

He glanced up and smiled, waving a beckoning arm.

He had been at the palace for nearly three months now though, you’ve only known him for one. He came from an empire in the south where the sun knew no night and, even in the white light of the moon, his skin glowed golden. Long nights you spent under the star scattered sky as he told you of his coastal home; blue waters and warm winters. How you longed to sink your feet into the white sand of his palace beaches, to feel the sun on your skin again.

Though, as you came to sit next to him on the cold, stone stairs, felt the warmth he generated, the golden light he seemed to produce-- you realized that you didn’t miss the sun as much as you used to.

“I have news from the negotiations,” his voice echoed through the ruins. “This foul war is over; there will be peace again.”

These words could not be true. With the joyful memories of your childhood not even shadows in your mind; a waring state was all you knew.

He seemed to sense your reluctance to believe as he said, “it is true, my love. Our armies have been told to stand down and will be pulled from their posts come next week. It’s all over.” Warmth spread over your cheek as his hand met your face, a gentle smile across his red-wine lips.

“This is glorious news,” you cheered, mind lost in a cloudy excitement. Yet, his words seemed to pull you down to earth; all over. “Yunho,” you raised your head to meet his deep brown eyes, and you couldn’t help but see sorrow in them. “What’s wrong? This is a time of celebration but you seem to mourn.”

He removed the hand from your cheek and returned it to his lap. “I ride south with my father at first light. There is news that my sister has given birth to a boy and, with his work here done, father does not wish to wait any longer to hold his first grandchild.”

“No,” was all you could manage to speak.

He wasn’t supposed to leave; he was your life. Without him, you would sink into the darkness again.

“N-no,” you didn’t know what to do, how to act. Your hands began to shake, acting upon their own volition. Your shoulders followed. Suddenly, you couldn’t breath; the weight of the world crashing down upon your lungs.

“y/n,” Yunho reached for your hands, eyes widened in concern.

But you began to wheeze harder as his warmth spread throughout your body. What would you do without him? What would you become?

Your world shifted as he pulled you into his arms, your head falling against his shoulder. “I’m here,” he spoke into your neck. “I’m here.”

Crisp air filled your lungs again as you became limp in his arms and your mind swam in his words. He was here now, you thought. These were his arms which held you and his lips which spoke and soothed.

Your fingers reached for the lips you’ve loved before, thumb brushing against the plush curves as he comforted you. The fall of his nose, arch of his brow, sweep of his eyelashes, angle of his cheekbones; sharp yet beautiful features, a face you could never forget-- the face of your soulmate.

“Will you forget me?” your arms wrapped around his neck to bring you face-to-face with him.

“We won’t be apart long enough for a single strand of your precious hair to disappear from my memory.” His breath danced across your jaw. “As the moon joins us each night,” sweet whispers fell from his lips and fell to the shell of your ear. “I will return for you. I promise you, my love.”

“Kiss me,” you told him. “Love me while you’re still here.”

Tears began to well in the corners of your eyes as he looked at you, unmoving, just staring. “If I love you now,” he said softly. “It will hurt more while we’re apart.”

“I want to remember the feeling of your lips on mine; your gentle touch.” You held his face in your sorrowful, needy hands. “Please, Yunho.”

“I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have.”

“Yunho,” you swiped a thumb across the apple of his cheek. “You could never hurt me. I love you -- now and forever.”

His forehead met yours as his eyes dropped and he released a shaky breath. “Now and forever,” he repeated, lips moving to meet yours.

His hands fell to your hips as your lips moved against his. Your hands running through his dusty brown hair as he gently sucked on your bottom lip. You grabbed his hand and brought it to the intersection of your neck and shoulders, wanting to feel his warmth on your bare skin.

Lips separated with a quiet smack and he began to press gentle kisses to your cheeks, nose, and the corners of your eyes. Slowly, his lips traveled down to where his hand rested on your skin, causing hushed whispers to leave your mouth. “C-can,” he pulled his lips away from your soft skin. “Can you kneel back?” He asked, running his hands across your curves with great desperation.

Your hands dropped from his hair to his shoulders as you raised yourself to rest on your knees. Wide eyes stared up at you as he sat, a hand reaching up to move your hair back. His hand rested on your cheek and you nuzzled into the warmth. The other ran behind you, tugging at the laces of your dress.

Shivers ran over your skin as the silk of your dress pooled around your legs leaving you in nothing but a thin slip. You kneeled before him as he stood, a finger tracing over your jaw. “Come here,” he called, hand leaving your face to extend the invitation.

You stood and immediately collapsed into his arms. “I love you,” he cooed. Soft hands grazed your shoulders as he slid the straps of your slip and dropped them down your arms. His tongue ran over his top lip as he looked down at your exposed flesh. A shaky hand reached out to touch you but pulled back slowly.

“What’s wrong, Yunho?” You asked worriedly. Did he not like what he saw? Were you not his type? Were you not like the other girls he’d been with? Not pretty enough?

“Nothing,” he sighed and smiled down at you, a hand finally caressing your goosebump covered frame. “You’re just so pretty; I-i don’t deserve you.” He pressed his lips against your forehead.

But he did deserve you. He deserved you and more.

“Take your clothes off, Yunho.”

His head flew up having not expected such an order from you. But, nonetheless he obliged. Nimble fingers worked the ties of his coat and buttons of his shirt. As the last piece of clothing hit the stony ground, you took a step towards him, your palm coming to rest on his toned torso. “You deserve the world and more,” you said, slightly more shaky than you had anticipated.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close. “You’re perfect, y/n.”

You sighed at his words.

Wet lips suddenly met the side of your neck, sucking until a dark purple mark appeared. His tongue ran down the valley between your breasts causing you to gasp. Air left your chest again as he swept you off your feet, laying you gently on your discarded gown.

“So perfect,” he barely whispered, staring down at you.

His gaze was painfully intense. You couldn’t stand it. It was like he was looking at a meal.

“Yunho,” you whined. “Please, don’t look at me like that.”

“You’re just so beautiful.” His knees landed in between your parted legs, preventing you from closing them as you would instinctually.

Slowly, he lowered himself onto you, his lips dancing with yours. An elbow supported him as he entangled another in your soft hair.

An aroma of rose petals surrounded you, as if he bathed in rose water. Roses were a rare and exotic flower which weren’t native to your empire. You would miss it. The scent of roses having become a constant in your life.

The kiss deepened and your hands grabbed at his broad shoulders. His tongue entered your mouth, brushing against your front teeth.

Reluctantly, you pushed him away, desperate for air. But, he didn’t stop kissing your body, his lips sucking softly on your neck. Your hands ran up his neck into his hair and his sweet lips returned to yours.

Tenderly, a hand ran down your side and to the inside of your thighs. Your heart raced as no one had ever placed a hand there before.

“It’s okay, my princess,” his lips fell to your collar bones. “I’ll make you feel good.”

Warm fingers traced the lips of your pussy, becoming slick with your wetness. Softly, they came to press against your clit and you shifted your hips, having never felt something like this before.

“Relax,” he cooed, his hand parting to encouragingly rub your hip.

You nodded, signaling for him to continue and he returned to gently rubbing at your nub. The warm feeling coming from his fingers quickly turned into a flaming heat. Deep in your lower stomach, something began to stir.

“I,” you didn’t know what to say, the feeling totally foreign.

“Relax, love,” he repeated, his fingers quickening.

The feeling in your stomach grew tenfold; a tight, knot like feeling.

Then it snapped.

Tears streamed down your cheeks and glued your hair to your neck. It all came crashing down on you at once and you sobbed as you came. He was going to leave you. The scent of roses would disappear. His warmth would fade. He wouldn't make you feel like this again; like you were swimming in the pools of heaven--bliss.

“Y/n,” his hands left your body and flew to your face. “Are you okay? Are you in pain?”

“No,” you tried to steady for breath as you came down from your orgasm and grief. “I just love you so much.”

His eyes melted from worry to tenderness. “I love you more than you could ever know.” His lips pressed gently on yours.

You matched the slow and passionate pace of his lips as you caressed his neck and shoulders. You shifted and your thigh brushed against the angry tip of his dick, causing him to moan into the kiss.

He broke the kiss to press his forehead against yours. “Can I make love to you?” He asked, his breath shaky, desperate, and, almost, pained.

“Yes,” you moaned, feeling something brush against your swollen clit.

“Ack,” you watched him wince as he grabbed his cock in his hand, pumping it quickly. His face contorted in pleasure so beautifully; you wondered if you looked like that when he touched you.

“This will sting a little,” you felt his tip at your hole. “But it will feel so good.”

He watched your face as his tip entered you. And, it didn’t hurt you at all, so he pushed further in. He was immense, stretching your tight walls impossibly.

You tightly clenched your jaw, feeling like you were being torn in half.

“It’s okay, y/n, my love,” he brushed your hair lovingly. “It’ll feel better when I move.”

“Move,” you choked out, your body incredibly tense.

He pulled his hips back and pushed back in slowly. He repeated, rocking his hips back and forth until the burning turned into pleasure.

“That’s it, princess,” his pace quickened as your walls clenched around him. “You're so beautiful, princess.”

He started to push deeper into you, his hips meeting yours with wet smacks. Your hands desperately gripped his shoulders in need of stability.

It was rapid, the growing of the lustful knot in your stomach. All you could do was moan out as he thrusted into you.

His mouth enclosed yours in a breathy kiss as he felt his own release approaching, the thrusts becoming faster and increasingly deep. Your orgasm threatened to slam into you as his tip grazed a deep spot, causing you to see stars.

“You feel amazing,” he breathed.

The praise encouraged you, your hips coming to meet his, pushing him impossibly deep.

“Y-yunho,” you continued to moan out his name like a credo.

“Come with me,” he kissed up your neck. “Come for me, princess.”

Your second orgasm was even more wonderful than the first, crashing down upon you like a waterfall. Your nails dug into his muscular shoulders, legs trembling around him.

The feeling of his cum painting your walls was like a third orgasm. His warmth completely filling you to the brim.

“I love you, y/n,” Yunho peppered your face with light kisses as he pulled out of you. “Now and forever.”

The sun shone above your free nation, beating down upon you, kissing your skin red as you stood in the field of tulips but, you couldn’t feel it. You were cold, frozen, alone.

Do not swear at all.

#ateez yunho #yunho ateez #yunho x reader #yunho angst #yunho smut #yunho scenarios #jeong yunho #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fic

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deobitchxx · 4 years

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Hi there! Is it alright if I request for another hyunjae fic? 🥺 I just got something in mind~ please? ❤ that he helps you apply sunscreen/lotion, giving a massage but gets playful? Either a fluff + suggestive or even a slight smut near the end? Tysm!! Don't forget to smile and be safe where you are!!

[ 21:45 // 25.09.2020 // R.SMUT ] “Faster, we might be late at this rate!” You whined, holding Hyunjae's hand to fasten his pace along with yours. It was summer break, both of you decided to have an escape away from all the stressful assignments. You were looking forward to this vacation as both of you have saved a lot of money for this since last year. “Geez calm down, the beach isn’t running away.” Hyunjae snickered, as he lazily matched his steps with yours. You ignored his words, still pushing him along with you to the beach nearby the hotel both of you booked. Once you reached the sand, not only the beautiful sight of the beach amazed you-- Instead the amount of people was also surprising as you turned your head to the older man, who was now trying to avoid glances. “I told you, we have to be quick in order to get a space. Tell me where we should stay in this state.” He puffed out his lower lips while playing with his fingers, mumbling, “We can just stay inside our room…”

Lucky enough Hyunjae spotted a space that was enough for both of you, resulting in you rushing to that place in order no one will snatch it away. You were laying on the mat that the latter bought along with other necessary stuff. He was sitting on the mat next to you, slightly leaned to the back with his arms on the sand to support the weight of his upper body. He turned to face you, who now folded your legs to sit on the mat while hand busy scratching the plastic away from the new bought sunscreen. “Do you need help?” You gave him a nod, handing the bottle to him, “Help me apply it on my back, I can’t reach them.” Laying on your stomach as your head laid on your folded arms, feeling the presence of the latter closer to your body. You suddenly heard a chuckle from him, as you turned to face him while raising your eyebrow, “What’s so funny?” His eyes almost disappeared once his lips raised for another smile, “Silly, how should I apply the sunscreen on you if you are still wearing your cardigan?”

You hesitated for a while as you gestured him closer, leading him to lean closer to your face. You whispered near his ears, “I don’t think I could take it off. The women here are all gorgeous and their bodies are better than mine, I lost my confidence right away.” You were hoping for him to laugh and get along with your sentence since he was the type to joke around. Instead, he shook his head with an angelic smile plastered on his face, “You are still beautiful, my love.” “No-” “Princess, I’ve seen all of you. I’m sure those women are willing to be you,” he left a soft peck on your lips before holding your cardigan, asking you with a reassuring smile, “May I take it off now?” You nodded, as he pulled down the cardigan away and placed it somewhere nearby. He gently pulled your body against the mat, wanting you to be relaxed and enjoyed the vacation. Pressuring the liquid out from the bottle, he rubbed his hands together before applying it on your back. His soft touches were so good and the texture of his palms were cherry on top. It’s insane, you almost cursed the shit out of yourself because you were so close to moan, but you decided to bite your lips, not wanting to embarrass yourself.

“Is it good?” His voice snapped you back to reality and you nodded, knowing the fact that if you started to open your mouth, the people nearby might exchange weird glances. His hands slowly went down to your waist, using his thumbs to apply pressure on your skin. “H-Hey,” He ignored you, as he rubbed his hands almost dangerously closer to your hips. The way he caressed your skin was incredibly insane, he was teasing you. You tried to lean to his touch, wanting more but instead he ignored you again and avoided touching the places that you wanted the most. His hands went down to the flesh after your hips, purposely massaging there. You rubbed your legs together, hoping the latter would do something with the thing underneath you. Hyunjae saw you closing your legs tightly as he smirked, smacking your hips while leaning closer to your ears, “Having fun under there huh?” “Hyunjae please..” “We’re in public honey, act like a good girl you are hm?” He pecked your cheek before proceeding to massage your thighs.

He spread your legs with force, looking around to make sure no one was looking. Indeed, none of the people nearby give a damn about the couple. They were busy enjoying their own vacation as well. This resulted in Hyunjae to run his fingers north, stopping right close to your clothed pussy. “Tell me baby, should I touch here too?” He asked you while his fingers were playing with the hem of your underwear. You hummed in response, “P-Please do.” He clicked his tongue while shaking his head, “Is that a dream of yours? To get your pussy touched in the middle of the public, hoping for people to turn and see what I’ve done to you?” His fingers were now tapping your covered clit and you swear that you almost moaned just by those words. The thought of getting caught by the people almost excited you so you grinded on his hand, applying pleasures by yourself. His hands gripped your hips tightly, stopping you from moving, “I thought you hate it when I touch your private areas in public? Where did my innocent princess go? Did she miss the flight?”

“Hyunjae please,” the pressure on your lower lips was so rough it almost bled. “Wait for me at the restroom, I’ll make you feel good if you go there without any complaints.” Leaving a smack on your ass, you immediately stood up and wasted no time, rushing to the nearby restroom. Hyunjae smirked as he greeted the family at the right side, “Hello, I’m sorry but can you look out for our stuff? My girlfriend is having a stomachache and I need to check her out.” The head of the family smiled and nodded, “Sure, make sure you take care of her well.” His wife added, “If she needs any help, please inform me. You know, female things.” The chuckle escaped from his lips, eyes following to smile along, “I’ll keep that in mind. Have a fun vacation!” He rushed to the restroom as well and once he entered the small building, he was greeted with several rooms inside. He was fortunate that only one door closed at that time, knowing the fact that it will be you behind the door. As he twisted the door opened, he saw you sitting on the countertop, pressing your legs together as a strap of your bra fell on your forearm.

“You look so hot,” he closed the door behind and pressed his body against yours, taking your lips into his as you wrapped your arms and legs around him. “What a bad girl, do you even know there was a 7 years old kid next to us? What do you think he will do if he saw you grinding on my hand?” He smirked at the way your lips tried to press on him again, “No baby, you did something bad and you didn’t deserve any of me. What a selfish girl who only wants to satisfy her needs,” he tsked and forcefully pressed his body against yours again, making you feel his hard dick through the fabric. “Hyunjae p-please..” You almost cried, the nerves to have him fucked you raw where both of you will surely get caught was unbearable to avoid. “Needy girl,” he slammed his hips to yours, earning a loud moan from you. “Be quiet baby or I have no choice but to leave you alone.” He growled and slowly humped into your clothed core, as you opened your mouth without trying your best to produce any loud voices. Heavy breaths were starting to get obvious as both of you grinded against each other to create frictions. “I-I’m close..” He grabbed your chin and made you face him, “Look at me in the eyes. You look so breathtaking when your eyes laid on mine while chasing your orgasm,” he humped harder, pulling you to the edges.

You knew you can’t handle it any longer, as you slammed your lips on his and moaned against his lips. “Ugh,” he let out a groan once he shot his loads on his shorts and you cummed on yours. You panted heavily, resting your forehead on his shoulder. “Can you take me back to the hotel? I’m too tired, we can just swim tomorrow.” His giggling sounds were enough to make you smile, as Hyunjae rubbed your back in circles, “I can. Plus I’ve told the family next to us that you were having a stomachache so it won’t be a problem.” An idea suddenly popped in your mind and you leaned your face against his neck, blowing slightly before whispering, “Fuck me and make me forget about the stomachache that you mentioned then.” You lazily grinded yourself on him, waiting for him to do something about it. “Oh baby, I don’t think you’re capable of swimming tomorrow if you continue grinding your hips on me.”

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broccoliboix5peepeeman · 3 years

Note

Req: Shōto moves from the big city to a small town where he meets & befriended by a local boy, Izuku. Together they experience memorable summer filled with beach outings, bike ridings, festivals & fireworks. But a dark secret about Shōto's past & true identity threatens to destroy their friendship.

Thank you for the prompt! 😊

When Shoto first moved to Izumo, he didn’t expect his life to change forever…

Well, that was a slight lie - after all, the entire reason he had moved away from his home in Tokyo was to get away from the stifling environment and constant pressure his father put on him. He had even tried to mask his identity, going by Shoto unless it was for important documents, in which case he'd use his mother's maiden name; he had also dyed his hair a rose pink to get rid of the red and white that stood out like a sore thumb. When he moved to his new home though, he had expected to live out his life quietly and alone, knowing that it was better than the alternative.

He changed his mind.

When Shoto moved to Izumo, he didn’t expect his life to change for the better. He didn’t expect to meet a local boy with fluffy green curls, constellations of freckles dusting his cheeks and a shining smile that instantly made him feel weak at the knees.

Midoriya Izuku.

Their meeting had been an accident - one that shouldn’t have happened - but Shoto was so glad that it did. He had been returning from the shops, both hands full of groceries, when he had spotted him running towards him.

His green hair bounced with each step and a bright smile was plastered to his face that was filled with mischief. As he ran past Shoto, he winked. Before he could spontaneously combust in response though, someone suddenly shouted and Shoto turned his attention to another boy, who seemed to be chasing after the first. His face was covered in mud.

'Damn, Deku! I'll kill you!' He roared. 'Get back here!'

At that moment, Shoto made a decision. He shouldn't meddle, he knew that - he didn't know the context behind this - but something told him to just go for it. Was it because the first boy had winked at him and was actually quite cute? Maybe… But he wasn't about to admit that.

As the angry blonde ran past him, Shoto timed it just right; he stuck his foot out to the side for the boy to trip over.

The instant he went flying, feet completely leaving the ground, Shoto sidestepped into a narrow alleyway to avoid being caught. He never saw the aftermath of his… Intervention, deciding to remain in his hiding spot for at least five minutes before venturing back out onto the sidewalk.

By the time Shoto made it back home to his small cottage, the ice cream he had bought had half melted, but he had no regrets.

He had just finished putting the shopping away when there was a knock on the door, which turned out to be none other than the boy who had winked at him earlier. His hair was slightly damp with sweat and his face was flushed.

'Hi!' The boy began. 'I'm Midoriya Izuku! You might not remember but before-'

'No, no. I remember quite vividly.' Shoto interrupted, leaning against the door frame. 'I'm Shoto.'

'Shoto…' Midoriya spoke softly, before a grin made its way onto his face. 'It's nice to meet you! I just wanted to say thank you for earlier. Kacchan can be a dick sometimes. He said something about my mum's weight so I put a spider down the back of his shirt and shoved some mud in his face so I could get a head start. That's why he was chasing me. I don't know what would've happened if he had caught up to me so yeah… Thank you.'

Shoto blinked a few times as he processed all of that - Midoriya could speak rather quickly.

'It's no problem.' He eventually shrugged. 'It was quite entertaining.'

'I know right?!' Midoriya exclaimed with a laugh. 'I looked over my shoulder just as he flew like 3 metres. I only knew it was you because you mysteriously disappeared before he could spot you.'

Shoto allowed himself a small smile as he watched Midoriya wipe away a stray tear.

'Well, from what you've told me, it sounds like he deserved it.'

Midoriya nodded slightly, before going silent. Shoto watched as he seemed to consider his next words, rubbing the back of his neck and shuffling on his feet.

'I haven't seen you around before. Are you new to Izumo?' When Shoto nodded, he continued. 'Well, if you want, I could give you a tour? I know we don't know each other that well and you're probably busy, but… Yeah, it's up to you though! I'd totally understand if-'

'I'd love to.' Shoto smiled earnestly. 'Give me five minutes and I'll be good to go.'

'Awesome!'

The more they got to know each other, the more he came to realise just how kind and brave Izuku was, with his own fair share of scars and the inability to leave Shoto alone even if he tried. Every day held an adventure and Shoto found himself enjoying every moment of it.

Ever since that day, the two of them had been joined at the hip. Initially, Shoto had been reluctant to allow a stranger into his life, never having much luck with friends due to who his father was. It was different now though. Not only had he forsaken his old life and now lived in a place where no one knew him, but the friend in question was Midoriya Izuku, who seemed to slot himself into Shoto's life so easily, it was like he had always been there.

His once empty house was now filled with memories. Photos of him and Izuku were scattered across the walls, commemorating their various hiking conquests, cycle marathons and charity runs that Izuku had convinced Shoto to take part in. That wasn't all though, some pictures were more casual, like the time they went to that bubble tea shop that also sold bubble slush that Shoto had quickly become addicted to, or the time they were chilling at Izuku's house and his mum, Inko, had wrapped him in a tight hug that ended up with Shoto crying, or even when they went to that summer festival wearing matching kimonos and danced together.

Life was impossibly good and Shoto loved it. When he was with Izuku, he was truly happy. He couldn't picture living without him.

As the months came and went though, Shoto knew it wouldn't last. He knew eventually he'd have to tell Izuku the truth about who he was and potentially face losing him forever.

It was a terrifying thought, but his friend deserved to know. He just hoped Izuku could one day forgive him.

☀️🌙

'It's so hoooot!' Izuku moaned, collapsing onto their shared beach towel and spreading himself out along the material. The two of them had decided to spend their Sunday at the beach, before Izuku started his new job the next day.

When Shoto said nothing as he calmly sat down next to him, Izuku poked an eye open to look at him expectantly. 'I said, it's hot, Sho-chan!'

'Is it really?' He deadpanned. 'I couldn't tell.'

'I hate you.' Izuku pouted.

'You love me and you know it.' Shoto replied easily, albeit he chewed on the inside of his cheek as he waited for his best friend's response.

'Hmmm.' Izuku huffed, before both of his eyes shot open and he smiled brightly at him. 'I guess I do.'

Shoto felt his face flush terribly at that, but before he could overthink it, Izuku suddenly jumped up and removed his top. He tried not to stare as his friend's surprisingly muscular torso was exposed, and instead focused on an interesting shell next to him.

'Sho-chaaaaaan!' He looked up to find Izuku staring at him, a bottle of sun cream in his hand. 'Can you rub my back, pretty please?'

'So needy.' He quipped, holding out his hand. Their fingers brushed as Izuku passed him the lotion, then his friend moved to sit with his back to him.

Shoto's hands shook slightly as he popped open the cap and squirted some onto his palm, before reaching out to rub it onto a freckled back. Izuku's skin was surprisingly soft, even with the scars that were scattered across his body. The warmth his friend radiated was also quite overwhelming, but Shoto wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not - after all, he was feeling rather flustered himself.

When he eventually finished, he tapped his shoulder and Izuku shuffled around to look at him.

'Your turn!' He announced, taking the sun cream from Shoto.

'You haven't done your face and chest yet though.'

'You're hopeless, Sho-chan.' Izuku sighed, before patting him on the head affectionately. 'But it's okay. I forgive you.'

Shoto didn't know what he meant by that, so he just shrugged and removed his top.

☀️🌙

'Izuku.' Shoto finally muttered, clutching his towel close to his chest. They had just been for a swim in the sea, hoping it would cool them down slightly. When he had initially suggested the idea, Izuku had dived into the water straight away, and when he eventually resurfaced, he had called out to Shoto, a bright smile on his face, before splashing him playfully. The salt water had stung his eyes a little, but Shoto had still smiled back and matched Izuku's laughter.

Now though, smiling was the last thing he wanted to do. After all, he had decided to finally tell the truth. He couldn't keep going on like this, enjoying Izuku's friendship whilst hiding who he was. It wasn't fair on his friend.

'Yeah?' Izuku finished drying his hair and looked at him curiously. When he noticed Shoto's worried expression, he stepped forwards and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 'You wanna sit down?'

Shoto swallowed heavily and nodded. He allowed himself to be guided to the beach towel by his friend and they sat down facing each other.

'Okay…' Shoto whispered, more to himself, before exhaling heavily. 'Izuku, I want to start by saying that you mean so much to me and that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.'

'Nawww, Shoto-kun!'

'That being said,' He continued before he could get distracted. 'I haven't been completely honest with you.'

When Izuku tilted his head to the side in question, Shoto sighed. No point beating around the bush. 'My real name is Todoroki Shoto. My dad is Todoroki Enji, you might know of him, he's that dickhead politician that-'

'Yeah, I know about him' Izuku laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. 'My dad used to be a supporter of his policies, not that he's ever been around to realise that his son is part of one of the communities he actively hates on.'

'Sorry about that.' Shoto muttered. 'For what it's worth, I don't agree with him. When he found out I was…' Bite the bullet, Izuku won’t care. 'When he found out I was gay, he wasn't too pleased.'

'Shoto-'

'It's fine, Izuku. I've always hated him.' He shook his head. 'My old man is the reason I moved here. I had to escape while I could. I've been using my mother's maiden name and I dyed my hair so no one would catch on. I wanted to get as far away as possible and make a life here, before eventually bringing my mother here to live with me. The bastard put her in a hospital, but me and my siblings have been working to get her discharged, and we reckon she'd be happier in a place like this.'

He paused for a moment, considering his next words as he bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut. 'I couldn't keep lying to you, Izuku. You're my best friend and I just… I'm sorry, I hope you can one day forgive me.'

Silence fell over them then, but Shoto didn't dare open his eyes. He didn't want to see the look of betrayal in Izuku's eyes, as selfish as it may be. He couldn't bear the idea of looking up to find his best friend gone.

Suddenly, a warm hand came to rest over Shoto's own trembling ones, soft to the touch and grounding him enough that he could look up to meet shining eyes.

'There's nothing to forgive.' Izuku almost whispered, sincerity in his voice that was so undeniably Izuku that Shoto wondered how he could ever doubt him. A reassuring smile graced his face. 'You're not your father, Shoto-kun. He's a cruel man, while you're nothing but kind. I understand why you kept your name a secret, I just hope that the Shoto I had the pleasure of getting to know was the real Shoto.'

'It was.' He let out a bashful smile when Izuku's own only grew. 'With you, I am myself entirely.'

'Then I'm glad.' A calloused hand squeezed Shoto's own affectionately. 'Because you also mean the world to me and to lose you would be… I couldn't-’ He sighed. ‘It would be heartbreaking.'

'I don't deserve you.' Shoto shook his head with disbelief. Before he could stop himself, he continued. 'I have something else to admit.'

'Your sister's not the prime minister, is she?' Izuku giggled.

'No… She's a teacher?' Shoto tilted his head to the side, confused.

'I'm just kidding, babes. Go on.' His friend playfully shoved him, and Shoto tried not to think too hard about being called "babes", even if it was a jibe.

'Okay, so remember how I said you're the best thing that could ever happen to me?' He began, focusing on Izuku's hand still covering his own. 'Well, it's more than that. I've never felt this way about anyone before, but when I'm with you, I never want it to end. You've made me smile more than I have in years, and every time you smile, life seems a little brighter by it. You're beautiful, both inside and out, and I can't imagine a life without you.'

He looked up to find Izuku staring at him, tears streaming down his face as he rubbed circles into Shoto's hand. A few months ago, he would've been worried at having made his friend cry, but now he knew better. Crying was a good thing with Izuku.

He exhaled shakily. 'I- I like you, Izuku. So, so much.'

Before he could comprehend what was happening, his friend suddenly leapt forward, wrapping his arms around Shoto's shoulders and tackling him to the ground. His back hit the sand with a muffled thud, but he hardly cared, returning the hug as Izuku nuzzled into his neck.

'I like you too!' He mumbled, tears dampening Shoto's skin. 'We'll be okay, promise. Todoroki won't be able to touch you here. I won't let him.'

'Izuku…' Shoto's throat felt tight as he rested his head back, not caring about the grains of sand burrowing into his hair. 'This can't be real.'

'Why not?'

'Because you're perfect.' His vision blurred and Shoto shut his eyes to prevent any tears from falling. 'This can't be real.'

'Is it real if I do this?' Izuku lifted his head up to look at him, before bringing his hand forwards and pressing his fingertip to Shoto's nose. 'Boop.'

Shoto crossed his eyes to follow the digit, eliciting an amused giggle from Izuku that was surprisingly contagious.

'That helps thank you.' Shoto laughed, his nose feeling strange as it was squished.

'Hmmm, I'm glad.' Izuku whispered, finally removing his finger to cup Shoto's cheek instead. The two stared at each other and Shoto tried to commit every feature to memory, from the spots of emerald in his verdant irises to the way the corners of his eyes crinkled with mirth.

He watched as a tongue darted out of Izuku's mouth to lick the bottom of his plump albeit slightly chapped lips. 'What about if I do this?'

Izuku leaned forward then and captured Shoto's lips in a quick kiss. He gasped upon the contact, and when Izuku pulled away he found himself chasing the feeling needily.

Izuku's cheeks were dusted pink and he sat up. 'Sorry, I should've asked first- Umph!'

Shoto sat up enough to link his arms back around Izuku's waist and pulled him down for another kiss. It was awkward - Shoto had no idea what he was doing and he assumed his friend didn't either. It was okay though, they could learn together.

'Izuku.' Shoto murmured against his mouth. 'I really am glad I met you, and I'm sorry for lying.'

Izuku rubbed their noses together before pressing a quick peck to his lips.

'It's okay really.' He whispered. 'I trust you.'

They spent the rest of the afternoon curled up on that beach towel together, and when they arrived at the Midoriya household for dinner that evening, holding hands, Inko was nothing but delighted.

Yes, Shoto had moved to Izumo to escape, but he hadn’t expected to love life quite as much as he did right now.

#i dunno if i'm happy with this but here we go :')#hope you enjoyed!#AgarJelly writes #tododeku #todoroki shoto #midoriya izuku #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #quirkless AU

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emwritesfootball · 3 years

Text

Freckles | Harry Winks

Summary: Harry overhears the girl he has a crush on talking about how she feels about him

Word Count: 1,042

Warnings: a little mutual pining, some eavesdropping, making out

A/N: an idea I’ve had stuck in my head for ages, but finally was able to finish back in May. Enjoy xx

- - -

“That’s the fifth time you’ve checked your phone in the last minute. Is YFN not coming?” Eric asked, chuckling as he took a sip of his beer.

“I don’t know,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes as you turned off the phone screen. “Her date would have ended like an hour ago.” Your phone vibrated in your hand and you squealed as you answered the phone, signaling to Eric that you’d be back in a minute.

“Hey, bitch, what’s up?”

Harry was wandering around Eric’s place looking for a quiet place all to himself. He liked parties, sure, but he sometimes needed solitude when he got too in his head.

“Girl, I understand that you wanna shag your new boy toy but you were supposed to wingwoman me with Harry tonight!”

Harry paused, recognizing the sound of your voice. He was intrigued by the one side of the conversation he could hear, especially since it seemed to involve him.

“No, I can’t do this alone, YFN! You know how I get around Harry - I’m going to make a fool of myself and then he’ll never want to sleep with me.”

Harry couldn’t stop the blush that colored his cheeks as he listened in on your conversation. A part of him knew that it was wrong to listen in but he couldn’t stop now.

“What don’t I like about him, mate? He’s sweet and smart and funny and - fuck - those freckles get me every time.” A pause, and you laugh. “Yeah, I’m a sucker for freckles, I know. Just come to Eric’s so you can help me get laid.”

Harry walks away after that, not wanting to accidentally get caught eavesdropping on what he assumes is a conversation about him. He searches for you constantly for the next few minutes, relieved when you finally emerge from the bedroom he’d overheard you in. He isn’t sure if he should strike up a conversation with you or not, but he gets an idea when he sees you head for the kitchen.

“Hey,” he says, entering the kitchen, startling you. You jump, almost spilling the vodka you were pouring into a cup to start a new drink.

“Oh! Harry. You scared me!” You laugh nervously, trying to regain your composure as you start to pour the vodka again, stopping when you have the perfect amount.

“Sorry,” he replies, ducking his head sheepishly. You can see a tinge of pink under those freckles and the fact that he’s blushing at your words has you reeling. “I just came for a refill myself.” He shakes his empty cup for emphasis, the ice rattling around noisily. “Can you pass me the vodka, love?”

You nod, handing him the bottle. His fingers brush yours as he takes it from your hands and you can’t stop your breath from hitching at the contact. “S-Sorry,” you stutter, withdrawing your hand as you reach for your mixer.

“No need to be sorry,” he says, giving you that smile that always leaves your knees weak and your heart racing.

You’re at a loss as to what to say next. You’re usually good at flirting with boys you have a crush on, but Harry is different somehow. Instead, you opt for comfortable silence, focusing on finishing making your drink. As you do, you can feel Harry’s eyes on you and it makes you shiver.

“So, did you come to this party with anyone?” Harry asks when you’re finished, not wanting to miss his chance with you before you disappear back into the party and conversation becomes impossible.

“Just Eric.” You shrug, hoping Harry gets that it isn’t sexual between you and Eric. “Just as friends, though. He’s got his eye on someone here.”

“I see,” Harry says playfully, taking a sip of his drink. “What about you? Anyone you wanna take home with you tonight?”

You nearly choke on your drink at his question. “Uh...maybe.”

Harry internally cheers at your admission, trying to figure out his next move. “Would you like some help? I’m a great wingman.”

There’s that thousand-watt smile again. You blush, shaking your head. “I’m sure, but I don’t know if you’d be the best fit for this one.”

“Let me at least try.” He puffs up his chest, gesturing to some imaginary man. “My dear teammate, this is YN. She likes long walks on the beach, sunsets, and a man who can make good conversation.”

You giggle at his antics, putting your head in your hands. “Oh, my god! You can’t forget freckles, though - I like a man with freckles.”

Harry pauses at your words, an odd look on his face. “Really?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod, taking a step toward him. “But I don’t want any of your teammates, I want you.” There. The words are out there, and it seems like Harry feels the same way.

“Really?” He asks one more time, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear as his eyes search yours.

“Yes, Harry - is that really so hard to believe?”

“A little,” he confesses, swallowing hard, “but right now all I wanna do is kiss you…”

“So kiss me then,” you murmur, placing a hand on his chest and the other at the back of his neck as you pull him in for a kiss.

The kiss with Harry is everything you want it to be. He kisses you with the perfect mix of neediness and greed, running his tongue along your bottom lip as the kiss deepens and your tongue tangles with his. He tastes like alcohol and something that’s uniquely him, and you can’t help but want to kiss him forever.

When the kiss ends, Harry rests his forehead against yours as he tries to catch his breath. You’re breathing just as hard as he is, out of breath from such a mindblowing makeout session. “Do you think anyone saw?” You ask, somewhat self-conscious about getting caught.

“No,” Harry shakes his head, not taking his eyes off you. “Do you want to go somewhere else, though, so we don’t?”

“What did you have in mind, Winks?” You ask, giggling when he grins at you and pulls you away from the rest of the party so it’s just the two of you with no interruptions.

#my writing: harry winks

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frenchlangdon · 4 years

Text

this isn’t what i wanted

(Part 5 to everything i wanted)

everything i wanted masterlist

A/n: it’s been awhile since I’ve last posted a chap! I just haven’t been motivated to write. I did write the first half of this like a month or two ago and I got stuck so I decided to just do a time jump. Also this chapter is like extremely messy, I apologize! I have no idea where I’m going with this but I hope you enjoy this somewhat! ALSO!!! Happy 32nd birthday to Cody omg he’s getting old 😂

—

“Do you feel your heart beating?” Michael would ask this question numerous times a day, being alive, feeling alive wasn’t really what you were focusing on at the moment. Guilt was overshadowing every emotion. You couldn’t shake it, it was making you physically sick. You once again were selfish and this time it ended up killing Xavier. You couldn’t forgive yourself for that. Sure you had wanted to be alive again and you thought you would have done anything for a second chance but if you knew it would’ve cost Xavier his life, you wouldn’t have done it.

You nodded, not looking at Michael. You were still processing everything that happened. It had been a week since you saw Xavier burst into flames. You were on edge ever since. During this whole week your body would start to shake and you’d completely lose all control and start to sob uncontrollably.

“Would you ever do that to me?” You finally looked at him. Your eyes stayed glossy, your eyes were like an overflowing fountain. You hadn’t stopped crying the whole week and you had a constant headache because of it. “No my love. I could never hurt you.” He smiled softly at you as he cupped your cheek. He looked at you so tenderly. He truly adored you. “I trusted you, Michael.” You let out a small whimper, trying your hardest not to let the tears escape. “But you betrayed my trust and you hurt me. You took away the only person who meant something to me. Just like those witches took away your Ms. Mead.” He blinked at your statement and stood back. “I did that for us. So that we could be together. Didn’t you want that?” His voice was small, genuinely hurt, he stood there watching you, studying your face. “I only want your love.” He shook his head as he spoke. “Why me, Michael?”

“That day we met, I was pulled to you. You’re telling me it wasn’t like that for you? Once I saw you I knew I had to have you. We were made for each other. You’ll see, I promise you.” His eyes pleaded with yours. Your mind was completely scrambled, you weren’t able to think straight, your emotions had gone completely haywire. You were in a very luxurious living room, with very expensive art hanging along the walls, the furniture was designer you just knew it. Maybe if the circumstances were different you would have observed every detail of this room but there you sat in an expensive lounge chair with slightly puffy eyes and Michael crouching in front of you wiping each tear that trailed down your cheek. “Please give me a chance.” He whispered, his bottom lip trembling, he was just as miserable as you were. He truly didn’t think you’d be this affected by what he had done. He just wanted you all to himself and he thought you wanted that too, he was blinded by his own fantasies and ideas. “I really liked you. And you screwed it all up by killing him!”

“He was already dead!”

“What did you do to him then?! I need to know Michael. Let me know if I’ll ever get to see him again. Please. Because I have no fucking clue what to think. I-I don’t know where he is, if he even is anywhere. Just tell me! Stop acting like it didn’t happen. You can’t brush something like that over! You just can’t!” You finally snapped, your face was red and tear stained. Your headache was now throbbing. “I-” He paused, not knowing what to say as he looked down to his lap. “No you can’t see him, he’s gone.” He looked back up into your eyes. Your heart shattered at those words, he was now completely wiped off of this planet. And nobody except you and Michael knew. “I need to be alone.” You mumbled. You turned away from Michael and rubbed your temples. “But I-.”

“Leave me alone Michael!” You yelled out.”

He closed his mouth immediately and vanished.

Now you were wishing you could disappear like before. Just go invisible, never to be seen again. You drew your knees against your chest and cried.

—-

“Pineapple pizza, your favorite.” He murmured as he sat the pizza box down on the table.

You had given him the silent treatment for few months . You would venture outside on your own every other day, exploring the new world. It was completely different than when you were alive before. Michael has gotten you a phone so y’all could keep in touch. He spent almost half a day teaching you everything you needed to know about it. That was the only time you did speak to him, only when you had a question about it. You quickly got the hang of it and you left him alone.

You found yourself taking pictures of the beach, the white sand, the blue waves. Then you started taking pictures of people, couples who were cuddled up together. You took one picture that you were very proud of, it was of a couple laughing. The wind blew the girls hair back just a bit, the sun shone perfectly on their faces, the blue water in the background. You always had a little thing for photography so you were excited to find out there was a built in camera in the phone.

After taking pictures you laid out in the sun and listened to some of the current music, of course some Whitney Houston or Queen would slip in at times and you’d feel nostalgic and remember those days.

You remember jamming out to Bohemian Rhapsody with Xavier in his van. You were going to the beach with him and you remember exactly how you felt that day, the way the sun felt on your skin, almost like how it feels now. The way his fingertips would ghost over your skin, tracing little shapes. The way his lips touched the shell of your ear as he whispered dirty promises. The feeling of him filling you up in the back of the van. His groans and the way he moaned your name.

God you missed him. You kept your eyes closed and tried remembering his smile. You loved his smile. It was so beautiful. He was so beautiful.

“Excuse me, miss?”

You looked up to see a tall and tan shirtless man standing in front of you. Your jaw almost dropped at the sight of him. He had striking blue eyes, brown slightly curly hair, and extremely sexy stubble.

You pulled your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose, “Can I help you sir?” You raised a brow.

He smirked as he glanced at your bikini clad body. “I’ve uh, lost my dog. He’s a German shepherd mix. He has a blue collar…?”

You shook your head as you maintained eye contact with the good looking stranger. “No, I’m sorry.”

“What’s his name? You know, just in case I see him around?”

“His name is Zues.” He paused for a moment. “What’s your name? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Y/n.” You blushed at the stranger.

“Well it was nice meeting you, Y/n. I’m gonna go now… I’ll see you around.” He winked at you and began to jog down the shore. “But I didn’t get your...name!” You called after him.

You were left completely stunned and for some reason amazed by the stranger.

Thirty minutes after the encounter you decided to head back to the house, you decided your escapism had to come to an end for the day.

You were greeted with Michael standing at the bar with his hands tangled in his hair and a frustrated look painted on his face. “What’s wrong?” You spoke to him for the first time since last week. He gazed at you for a second before looking to the ground. “Just work.” He mumbled out. Work. You knew exactly what his work was. He told you everything a week after he brought you here. You felt compelled to comfort him, so you walked over to him and embraced him. He tensed in your arms but slowly melted into it. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your neck. “You know somehow I still feel attracted to you. After everything.” You whispered against his chest. “I’m sorry.” He said softly, his voice cracked a bit. You knew he was. You knew by the way he gave you space, the way he was patient with you, how he would look at you with sorrow and guilt whenever he caught you crying. You just knew in your heart he didn’t mean for it to end up like this. “I know you’re not a monster, Michael.” You pulled away and wiped the tears from his face. He leaned in and kissed you. His tender lips against yours felt like heaven. It felt like time had stopped, but he then pulled away. “I love you so much. I’ll never hurt you again. I’ll never let anything happen to you, I promise.” Michael looked deep into your eyes, holding your face in his hands. Your hands wrapped around his wrists as you kept staring into his eyes. “I’m holding you to it then, Michael.” You smiled. He pecked your lips. You were somewhat ashamed of how attracted you were to him, after all the shit he’s done. How could you? But how could you resist, you thought.

You were done denying your attraction to him, you were left a miserable and needy mess.

“Show me how much you love me.” The sparkle in your eye and the tone of your voice let him know exactly what you meant. He picked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to his bedroom. He laid you down carefully on his bed. He left kisses all over your jaw, trailing down your neck. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He muttered against your collarbone. You moaned in response. “Just wanted to worship your body. Show you how much I want you.” His hands trailed up your sides and landed on your breasts, palming and squeezing them. He untied your swimsuit cover up, his eyes raked over your body, trailing up your torso and landing on your eyes. He leaned down to kiss you, “Michael.” He halted his movements at the sound of your voice, he pulled back slightly and looked at you utterly confused. “What if you stopped doing what your father wants. What if you did what you wanted? What if you stop all of this end time stuff and we can live a normal life? Grow old together. Just be in love.” Your hands went to his face, your palms lying against his cheeks. “What if it was just you and I?” You smiled, you thought you were getting somewhere with him.

“You know I can’t do that. I have plans, a prophecy to fulfill. This is my purpose.”

“But you don’t know that. You don’t have to destroy the world and turn it to dust. You can stop it all. Right here right now and just live with me.”

He just stared into your eyes. “I can’t.” He whispered softly. “Do you love me, Michael?” Your voice trembled. You were desperate to try and stop him.

“You know I do.” He scoffed. “If you truly love me, then you’ll stop this. You’ll quit. Because this isn’t what I wanted. I want you to not be so hard on yourself. To be carefree and happy. To not have to worry about witches and warlocks. I want us to live out the rest of our lives without having to worry about Satan's plans and agenda! Don’t you get that you’re just living in his shadow? I mean come on. You’re not doing what you want to do right? You’re doing what he wants. Let him go and be with me. Just be with me.”

“I want us to be carefree and happy.” Your lips ghosted over his as you spoke.

—

Tags: @xscarlett-rosex | @hoeposey | @mrsnegan25 | @astrobabezblog | @joesliebgott

#cody fern #xavier plympton #cody fern x reader #michael langdon #xavier plympton x reader #michael langdon x reader #ahs apocalypse #ahs 1984 #ahsfx #my writing #everything i wanted series

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Text

Protea (Part 6)

Snapdragon feels all warm inside. She hasn’t had fresh bread since she’d left Hira’a. It is still warm and it melts like butter on her tongue. It tastes like butter to. She decides that, after her collection of shiny things, palace food is her favorite thing. She dangles her legs over the beam and lets the breeze play with her hair.

“Can you scramble back in here?” Mai asks. “You’re stressing me out.”

“Why?”

“Aren’t you afraid that you’re going to fall?”

Snapdragon looks down. It wouldn’t exactly be a nice fall, the rubbish beneath the beam is mostly metal bits and blades from old war and industrial machines. But if she looks down in a different direction she can see a beach and a lovely sprawl of houses. “I like it up here.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

She shakes her head. “Nope, I ain’t afraid. I been up here so many times. It’s nice. You should come up here.”

“No thanks.” She replies. “I don’t really care for heights.”

Snapdragon shrugs. “Suit yourself. I like heights though. You get to be above everyone and usually no one can get to you so it’s peaceful.”

“Yeah, until you misstep.” Mai shudders.

“That’s why you practice down there first.” She points to a small stack of crates and a brick wall. “If you do it wrong you get scrapes and bruises…”

“And broken bones?”

“Only once!” Snapdragon declares. She holes out her arm and shows the woman another scar. “It weren’t so bad.” She taps her chin, “But Mohi says that’s only because I passed out ‘n so I couldn’t feel it.”

“You are not helping me like heights any better.”

Snapdragon scrambles her way back across the beam and into her nest. “Have the flowers come in yet?”

Mai shakes her head. “They’re being delivered on a boat, it’s going to take a while.”

Her eyes light up, “so since we have time, will you go trinket hunting with me?”

“I was actually hoping that you’d tell me a story.”

“I like telling stories. What kind do you wanna here.”

“When we were at the palace, you said that you were found in a jungle.”

Snapdragon nods.

“What did you mean by that?”

“I meant that I was found in a jungle. I think that I was born there.” She pauses. “I don’t really remember it much. I forgot a lotta things.” She thinks for a moment. “But Mohi can tell you! Can I introduce you to Mohi?”

.oOo.

Mai isn’t sure that she wants to meet this Mohi woman. But Snapdragon is all to enthusiastic for her to turn the woman down. Anyways, she is rather curious about the woman’s origin story. And so she stands before a rundown little shack with lopsided shudders and a roof full of holes and cracks.

Snapdragon gives the door several knocks.

“C’mon in.” Calls a voice. “’S open, ya know that by now, girl.”

“Mohi, I brought someone for you to meet!”

“Tha flowa lady?”

The inside of the shack smells like cooking oil and scorched meat. She half expects an elephant-rat or a roach to crawl out of one of the cracks in the stained wall. But other than a clutter of clothes, old kitchenware, and some scattered scrolls the place is fairly clean. Cleaner than the decrepit exterior had hinted. She removes her shoes and sets them upon the mat by the door.

“Ya have to excuse tha mess. I tol’ tha boys to help me clean it but they’ve been blowing that off for firebendin’ and this one…” she gestures at Snapdragon, “keeps bringin’ junk home.”

“It ain’t junk, Mohi!”

“Then wha’s this?” She holds up some sort of metal plank. Perhaps a broken rafter or the blade of a propeller.

“I dunno.” Snapdragon admits. “I just thought it were neat.”

Mohi sets it aside with an audible groan. “She jus’ tosses things on tha floor. Makes more work for her motha.”

“I’m gonna pick ‘em up.”

“You’re her mother?”

“In a manner’a speakin’.” Mohi returns to her chopping block. She slices a carrot twice more and then adds, “I don’t suppose she’s gone ‘n tol’ ya that I foun’ ‘er in the jungle one night.”

“She mentioned it.” Mai sits down.

“That’s what we’re here for, Mohi!” Snapdragon declares. “I was hoping you could tell her the story.”

“Let me jus’ finish wit these carrots. Maybe ya could help me wit ‘em. Or ya can start on the potatoes?”

Snapdragon picks up a knife and a potato.

“Ken ya cook?” Mohi asks.

“Not very well.” Mai admits.

Mohi nods. “She was tellin’ me that ya is one’a tha uppa class ladies.” She gives the carrot another chop. The knife clomps on the cutting board.

“I am.” Mai replies. “But I don’t mind giving this a try. It beats…” sitting in the palace with Zuko, enduring his awkward attempts to clear the air. “It beats home life.”

“Aye. Then grab’a board ‘n a turnip. I’ll tell ya a story while we choppin’.”

“Leave the roots for me.” Snapdragon says.

.oOo.

The night held a sweltering humidity. Moonless, cloudless, the sky was an uninterrupted canvas of stars. And the hog-monkies screeched while the toad-squirrels chittered and croaked and the crickets droned on and on.

A middle aged woman tended to her garden, to the night blooming flowers, watching the flutterbats swoop down overhead. Mohi much preferred to do her gardening at night, safe from the sun’s hottest glares, safe from forced small talk with passing neighbors, and safe from the neediness of her sons--at least until the next morning. She thought that it was boundlessly more pleasant to do yard work with fireflies for company. She’d seen far less spider-wasps too.

That night, the fireflies were particularly active, dancing in clouds like a current through the sea. She stooped down to pluck an iris. She tried not to look at the treeline, lately the jungle had been acting mighty strange. It glowed and it sang. It hummed with spirit energy, too much for her comfort. And more of it than she had seen in decades. It wasn’t a bad thing necessarily, but she has always thought that it was best to just leave the spirits to themselves. Of the dark or light, they could coexist side by side, never interacting, only quietly crossing the paths of one another. And so she had maintained peace.

Peace, a bountiful garden and sugarcane field, and a family in good health. It was a lifestyle she could never trade. How could she give up waking up to the smell of sugarcane, bamboo, and wildflower every morning? How could she give up morning strolls into town to trade her sugarcane for fish and to watch a good theater performance with her boys?

Life was well. Life was prosperous. Life was everything she could have hoped for and she was almost certain that she owed it to the respect and care she had put into a land that is so close to the world of the Spirits.

And so when the spirits tossed her a young woman, she couldn’t bring herself to throw her back into the jungle. The poor thing stood at the treeline, dirty and scraggly haired. Mohi almost hadn’t noticed her. She wouldn’t have if not for the fireflies. They had all paused, going dark for a good while before lighting up again collectively in a spiral around the young woman.

Spirit energy radiated from her, the woman’s very skin hummed with it when Mohi took her hand. Quickly, instinctively, the young woman jerked her hand away with a snarl and ducked back into the jungle.

Mohi was inclined to let her return to the jungle from which she emerged. But she was human. Only human. And Mohi thought that she must have gotten lost out there and for a very long time. Such a long time that human contact had become foreign. Or maybe she had never had it at all. Mohi was well aware of the parents who’d abandoned their unwanted or unplanned children in the jungle.

“C’mon chil’, let’s get ya inside. ‘S nice inside.” She’d tried coaxing the woman.

She’d retreated deeper into the jungle and deeper still until Mohi had lost sight of her and was willing to venture no further. But she returned the next night and the night after. And six moons from then she caught the woman eating an unripe and raw pineapple.

She’d coaxed her into the house with a sweetly smelling fruit basket. She’d disappeared again in the middle of the night. The jungle had grown quiet, the spirit activity seeming to cease. And just when Mohi thought that the girl was gone for good, Kaz had come running into the house complaining of a naked lady in their sugarcane field.

That day Mohi hadn’t taken any protest, and spirits did the woman put up a fuss. By sunset, she had the girl bathed, clothed, and seething with a feral brand of rage. Decidedly she would teach the woman some manners.

It would be quite some time before she would be able to leave the woman alone, mostly Zenyul would watch her when Mohi couldn’t. And it would be much longer before she could take the woman out in public.

But when the woman finally began speaking in something other than grunts and clicks, it was a natural process. As though blockage had been cleared from a creek, speech had returned to her. Mohi had grown certain that the woman had gotten herself well and lost in that jungle, she only had to help her remember the civilized world she had once been a part of.

Her speech had been broken at first, hard to understand but she was getting there. And then she’d gotten there. Mostly, Mohi could forget that she had found the woman in the jungle. Mostly she was like everyone else, well groomed, clothed, and only somewhat less than well spoken.

Mostly, Mohi could return to her usual day to day endeavors. To the life she adored and cherished so well. It was a nice home, a nice standard of living. If only the girl hadn’t had such wandering, thieving fingers. If only the girl wasn’t prone to bouts of mischief and troublemaking. If only the jungle didn’t drive the girl mad on nights when the moon was new. It was a lifestyle she could never give up, and yet for the sake of this woman whom the spirits gifted her, she’d leave it behind.

Leave it behind for a run down shack in the unpleasantly smelling outskirts of a city much too grand for her tastes.

.oOo.

Mai supposes that it makes sense; Snapdragon’s mannerisms and her taking comfort in nests and shiny things.

“Did you like her?”

“Hmm?” Mai asks.

“Mohi. Did you like Mohi?”

Mai nods, “she seems like a nice woman. She takes cares a lot about you.” She wishes that her mother were as invested in her well being as Mohi is in Snapdragon’s.

Snapdragon is quiet for a long while and Mai grows uncomfortable under the cloud of silence. “What’s wrong?” She finally asks. “And don’t try to tell me that this is a happy hush.”

Snapdragon laughs but only briefly before her smile fades. “You think it’s weird, don’t you.”

“That you used to run naked through the jungle and eat raw pineapples?”

Snapdragon nods.

“I thought it was weird to watch you eat a whole sunflower and then scamper up and into your nest.”

Snapdragon frowns.

“I’m looking for strange.” Mai confesses. “Everything is so boring, Snapdragon! It’s the same thing every day; I would wake up and go to some council meeting with my dad or with Zuko when I was his girlfriend. I would have a nice meal and warm bath--rose scented soap every time. Sometimes I’d go for walks or talk with the other ladies in the palace. I used to talk to TyLee and that was interesting but then she left to join the Kyoshi Warriors and it was just me, Aunt Mura, Tom-Tom, and that flower shop. And then it was even more of the same routine every day.” She pauses. “And then you invited yourself to work at my stall.”

Snapdragon curls her bangs around her finger. “I thought that…”

“Everything was just starting to blend together one really long dull day that never ended. I can tell the difference now.” Mai says. “It’s not boring. You make me feel things because you’re weird. I wish more people around here would just be bizarre and unpredictable. I wish I could scramble up a tower and surround myself with random items.”

“You can.” Snapdragon smiles. “You can visit my nest even if I’m not around. Just don’t break anything.”

“That’s not the point, Snapdragon.” Mai says. “The point is; I know that you’re weird and I want you to keep doing that.”

She needs her to keep doing that. Maybe if she does, she can start to break the monotony on her own.

“Keep doin’ what?”

“Hoarding your knick knacks and eating more questionable parts of plants.”

Snapdragon nods, “I can do that.” She fidgets with her metal propeller blade. “I have to drop this off. Will you spend the night with me? I never had a sleepover before.”

Mai thinks of her comfortable bed in the security of the palace. She really ought to go there. But she is casting normalcy to the side now, doing the things that her mother would likely disown her for. “And I’ve never slept in an abandoned factory before.”

“It’s really nice ‘cept for when it’s windy and the breezes get in the air ducts and it makes these spooky noises. And sometimes…”

“Let’s just get to the factory before I have second thoughts.”

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Avatar Mai #Maizula #Fanfiction

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rosethesongbird · 4 years

Text

Lady of the Lake Chapter I

Geralt felt Jaskier’s breath hot at the back of his neck. The smaller man let out a small noise, like the whine of a hurt dog. His forehead touched Geralt’s hair and he could feel the beads of sweat pouring off his face.

“Do we need to stop?” Geralt tried to let his voice be tender, less cold than his usual growl. Jaskier only groaned in response.

“Hm.”

Roach was running as fast as she could with two riders, but it was jostling both of them pretty intensely—and his bard’s condition needed stillness, calm, care, not a rough horseback ride. However, they had no choice. When his friend was taken ill, they were in the middle of nowhere, barely finishing a kill. He had not noticed the ailment until Jaskier had collapsed while walking next to Roach. He felt some sort of odd sensation in his stomach—must be guilt. He had ignored the bard’s usual complaining. He was like a needy puppy—always asking for attention—so he had assumed it was merely that desire since he was preoccupied with a hunt.

Of course, the one time he decided to not pay any attention to the complaints was the one time they were serious. He had fallen to the ground, completely unconscious, and burning up in fever. Upon waking he had immediately vomited, and quickly grew less and less coherent. Originally, Geralt had intended to wait the illness out for a day or so, then make the travel to the next town. However, when a day went by and Jaskier was still very sick—worse, even—he had decided they needed to haul ass to whoever might be able to help. He could only hope that the day lost in seeking treatment would not prove fatal.

Jaskier suddenly sputtered to life—coughing, retching, moaning—and Geralt immediately pulled Roach to a stop and dismounted. He was still burning up, but impossibly pale—lips blue, skin grey, eyes glassy. He coughed and retched for a moment unproductively as Geralt gently rested one hand on his shoulder to keep him from collapsing. Jaskier hadn’t eaten or drank anything in a day, so there was nothing to throw up. He breathed a shuddering, hitching breath.

“Geralt,” he moaned.

“I’m right here, what do you need?” he felt like the other man’s blue eyes could burn a hole in his skin. There was an air of vulnerability to this that the nearly untouchable Witcher was very uncomfortable with.

“Don’t leave m’here.” his words were slurred and far from his usual quick wit.

“I would never, bard. Come on, let’s go. We need to get you some help.”

Jaskier sobbed. “Hurts…”

“I know it does. We need to get moving, the sooner we get to this town, the sooner we can rid you of your pain.”

The bard moaned and went limp in Geralt’s arms. He picked him up and set him back on Roach. Jaskier had always been smaller than him, but now he was impossibly light and frail. His doublet hung lightly out of the pocket on Roach’s back and the linen shirt he wore was filthy, soaked in sweat and vomit. There was nothing else they had for him to wear.

—

They finally reached a small, but bustling town, just as the sun was setting. It appeared that the local food market was closing down. Geralt dismounted Roach and led her, with Jaskier now shivering atop the saddle, into town.

“Is there a doctor here?” his voice came out threatening, desperate. Different than he had heard it ever before.

A small, older man looked up at the bard, still moaning, then back down to Geralt. “You’ll need magic to fix that one,” he said. “Due east from here there is a lake, can’t miss it. Ring the bell at the dock. There is a woman who lives on the island in the lake. She can fix anyone.”

“How long will it take me to get there?”

“Only about fifteen minutes, if your horse’s fast. Her name is Epione. She’s the best in the business.”

Geralt grunted and pulled Jaskier back to a seated position. He managed a “thank you” as he got back on to Roach, and took off.

Seven minutes of worrying silence went by on Roach’s back, pierced only by Jaskier’s labored breathing. Labored breathing became moaning, and moaning became wailing. Every jostle on Roach’s back was suddenly like agony, and Geralt decided to dismount and carry the bard in his arms, Roach following dutifully. They were swiftly running out of time, and the woods were dark. He wanted to bolt, to run, to sprint, but he could not do much more than a brisk walk without the dark-haired man screaming in pain.

Jaskier moaned his companion’s name. “Please,”

“Please, what? What do you need?”

“Help, G’ralt, please,” he said, wheezing. A wet cough escaped his lips.

“We’re almost there, I promise,” Geralt tried to comfort his traveling musician. He wasn’t sure his promise was true, but Jaskier was so delirious, he probably wouldn’t remember this if—when—he recovered. He didn’t want to think about what he would do if his friend did not become himself again. “You should try to drink something,”

“Can’t…I’ll be sick,” he looked up at Geralt with blue eyes, diluted with fever. “Already wanna be sick.” His breathing quickened, wheezing.

“Hm.” Geralt sped up his pace as much as possible without causing undue pain. Well, more undue pain.

—

They emerged from the forest onto a beach. A rocky beach, with a lake, the lake with an island, the island with a cottage. There was a small dock going out onto the water, and a bell attached to a pole on the dock. There was a sign near the bell, written in English, and in runes. It simply read “Epione’s Home. Ring for crossing.” There was a pole for horses, and a small trough on the beach. Geralt quickly tied up Roach, and walked over to the bell, reluctantly ringing it. Jaskier moaned and buried his head into Geralt’s shirt at the sound.

A woman suddenly appeared from the forest behind them. “Can I help you?” she said. Geralt spun around, surprised that his heightened senses didn’t notice her earlier. He was a little preoccupied.

“I’m Epione, the keeper of this place,” she said, cautiously walking closer. She was small, but had strong arms, concealed under a long sleeved shirt and linen overdress. Her long hair was in a braid, coiled at the back of her head into a bun. “I heard screaming, and I thought you may be coming to seek treatment. Please, come, and untie your horse. I have a safe place for her on the island.” She gestured toward the water and a wooden bridge appeared, rising from the still waters of the lake. She was calm, measured. Despite her young appearance, she seemed accustomed to situations such as these.

“You must be Geralt of Rivia, the witcher,” her footsteps were near silent on the bridge. “I’ve heard the stories about you. What’s going on with your friend here?”

“Are you an elf? A mage? How are you doing this?” Geralt was on high alert. He stepped cautiously on to the wooden bridge, and Roach dutifully followed. She seemed human, but not mage, and definitely not an elf.

Epione shrugged. “Well, that’s not an answer to my question, but, I guess I’m a mage of sorts. The kind of magic I use is ancient—older than elves. It has been in my family for generations, and I have resolved to use it for good, not for violence.”

Geralt was silent, staring straight ahead. That seemed like a fair answer. He could not sense dishonesty.

“So, now that you know my life story, what’s his? His name? What’s going on?”

“This is Jaskier, my… traveling companion. Two days ago he collapsed after a hunt, and he has been like this since.”

“Hm. What kind of symptoms?” The light of the moon revealed her ginger hair and freckled skin.

Jaskier moaned before Geralt could respond. He coughed before muttering “D-don’ leave me, Geralt, pl-please,”

“I won’t, Jaskier. This girl can help you,” Geralt said, as reassuringly as he could. “Can you tell her what’s been going on?”

Jaskier was silent.

Epione came nearer to the man. “I’ll get you fixed up soon, I promise,” she said, smiling softly. He met eyes with her, nodded slowly, and with a long, shuddering breath went back to resting his head on Geralt’s chest.

—

As they stepped foot onto the island, the wooden bridge disappeared. The cottage on the island brightened with candlelight. Epione led them inside and gestured to a bed in the front of the room. There was a small cabinet nearby, covered with herbs, poultices, bottles of elixirs and full of who knows what else. A fire in the stone fireplace grew, seemingly from a smolder. Geralt laid Jaskier on the bed, and the dark-haired man grasped weakly at Geralt’s shirt.

“No, Geralt, no, nonono no no,” he started getting agitated, breathing faster.

Geralt was about to step in when the small girl crouched by the bed. “Shh, it’s alright, songbird,” she said, gently turning his head to look at her. “You’re safe here.” He immediately began to calm as soon as he met eyes with her. His breathing was labored, and he winced in pain, but he was silent.

“Do you know where you are?” she was cupping his cheek in one hand, stroking his temple with her thumb. Her other hand was deftly unbuttoning his shirt.

“Mmh, no… who are you?” He went into a fit of coughing, and her hand started gently rubbing circles into his now bare chest. “My name is Epione, I’m the healer here, and keeper of the pool.” She turned her head, hands still working on Jaskier’s clammy skin. “Geralt, would you mind filling this with some fresh water from the lake? We need to start working on getting that fever down, and quick,” she handed Geralt a small wooden bucket, with some rags inside. Geralt nodded silently and did as he was asked.

Upon returning inside, Epione smiled at him and whispered her thanks. As she began placing the rags strategically, wiping the days-old sweat off his body, Geralt felt another pang of guilt. Jaskier’s stomach was red, bruised, swollen, angry-looking, and he had no idea. He didn’t even look, and this stranger immediately knew what to do. He was snapped out of his own thoughts by a soft whimper from Jaskier when Epione placed a cloth over his forehead and eyes.

They were silent for a few seconds while Epione placed a hand gently on his stomach. “Has he been vomiting?” she said, eyes trained on her patient.

“Yes,”

“How much?”

Geralt thought for a moment. “Basically every time he eats or drinks something.”

“Hm. He is pretty dehydrated. Any tenderness in the abdominal area?”

“I think so. He got to where he couldn’t tolerate riding the horse.”

Epione sighed. “I’ll be right back, hold on for just a minute,” she said softly to Jaskier. She stood up and gestured for Geralt to come outside. He lingered inside for a moment, eyes trained on the heaving rise and fall of the bard’s chest.

“So, I don’t want to frighten you, not that I think you are frightened by many things, Witcher,” Epione said, softly. “But I think I know what may be wrong with him, and the treatment is, well, complicated.”

“Hmm,” Geralt growled. Just what he was worried about.

“I think this is an infection of an internal organ, one we don’t know the purpose of. However, removal of this organ does not appear to be harmful, but it is complicated by what I think is a rupture of that organ.” She sighed. “Basically, what I’m saying is, I’m going to have to cut him open and find out.”

“When?”

“Sooner rather than later. The longer we wait the more the infection spreads.”

“Hm. If it must be done then it must be done. He’s in a bad way.”

Epione nodded. “Thankfully, I can numb the area with magic, and we’ll do our best to keep him calm. I’m sure I’ll need your help, if you don’t mind,” she said, smiling. “He seems pretty attached to you. You must have been friends for a long time.”

Geralt allowed a hint of a smile to cross his face.

—

“Jaskier, wake up,” Geralt said, quietly.

“Mmh, no, want to sleep,” moaned Jaskier.

“I want you to wake up at least for a minute. We need to talk about what we can do to treat you,”

Jaskier’s eyes fluttered open. Geralt was crouched by the bed. Epione was standing behind him, wearing a stark white apron over her dress, her hands and nails so clean they near sparkled. She pulled up a chair next to Geralt, smiling softly. She brought a small glass to Jaskier’s lips. “You need to drink something, sweetheart,” she said. He took a cautious sip. “It won’t kill you, I promise. It’s just for pain and to calm your nerves.” He took another sip as she began gently stroking his lower belly. Her hands began to glow, as if they were lit from inside.

“Look at me, bard,” Geralt said, firmly. Jaskier slowly turned toward his friend. “I like you,” he said. Geralt shook his head. “You must have finished your tea,” he said. A stifled laugh bubbled up from Epione.

“How are you feeling, songbird?” she said, calmly. Geralt noticed a small, sharp knife being cleaned in her hands.

Jaskier frowned. “My tummy feels funny,”

Epione looked at Geralt. “I’m going to do something that’s gonna make you feel so much better, sweetheart,” she said, turning back to her patient. “But I need you to keep looking at Geralt, okay? You’re probably going to feel some pulling, and your legs will probably fall asleep, but there shouldn’t be any pain at all, alright?”

Jaskier nodded, his head lolling. “My head feels…h-hot…and my legs feel cold,” he said, to no one in particular. His breathing was still labored, but he was clearly not concerned about anything that was happening. Epione glanced toward Geralt and met his eyes. Geralt placed his hand on the bard’s cheek, brushing his hair out of his eyes. It was his job to make sure Jaskier didn’t look at what Epione was doing. Both of them agreed that it would be too panic-inducing for him to know what was happening. After the fact is different, but during… him keeping still was the most important thing.

“Hey, Jaskier,” said Epione, after about 30 seconds of quiet. She had silently made her first cut, deftly, like a dance. “Why don’t you sing a song for us?” Geralt could hear the sounds of her rummaging around in Jaskier’s stomach. Smart, he thought. “I’d love to hear some straight from the source, not from the copycats we have here in town,” she said, her eyes smiling, preoccupied with both hands inside of the incision.

“See, Geralt, sssssomebody appreciates my t-talents,” he slurred. Geralt only scoffed in response. “Fair lady, of…of…of course I’ll ssssing for y-you.” The irony of Jaskier, flirting with a woman who actively was rummaging around in his guts, was not lost on Geralt.

He began to sing, breathy and shaky, but his voice all the same.

The fairer sex, they often call it

Epione sliced something inside of Jaskier’s body and tossed it, bloody, into a dish on the floor.

But her love’s as unfair as a crook

She looked around inside, scraping, slicing, sprinkling with a small vial of water.

It steals all my reason

Geralt watched Jaskier’s face paling considerably despite the relatively small amount of blood lost.

Commits every treason

Jaskier grimaced and flinched, breathing quickly and heavily now, but didn’t stop singing.

Of logic, with naught but a look

Geralt felt him press against his hand, desperately trying to turn and look at the woman working. He shook his head and mouthed “No,” to the smaller man.

A storm breaking on the horizon

Jaskier started to trail off as Epione began to stitch up the three-inch wound. “Come on, sweetheart, stay with me,” she said. “I’m almost done, finish your song,”

Of longing and heartache and lust

Geralt gently tapped Jaskier’s cheek as he moaned. “Wake up, Jaskier, keep singing. This may be the only time you hear me say that, so take advantage of it,”

She’s always bad news

Stitching,

It’s always lose, lose

and pulling,

So tell me love, tell me love

“You’re doing great, songbird, almost done,” said Epione.

How is that just?

Epione joined in quietly in the chorus, in an effort to keep his focus away from her work.

But the story is this—

She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss

Her sweet kiss

She wiped off the incision area and applied a bandage.

But the story is this

She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss

“All done, Jaskier,” she said, after covering his lower body with the blanket. Geralt moved his hand and sighed. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath. She took a clean rag and wiped the sweat from his face. He grimaced and arched his back. “You were so brave, sweetheart.”

“Did-did you like my song?” he said, breathless, chest thick with sickness, still burning with fever.

“Yes, darling, it was lovely,” she said, smiling. She tenderly stroked his face. “You’ll be a little sore tomorrow, but you can rest now.”

He was already asleep.

Chapter 2 here

#this is so embarrassing #fic #fanfic #the witcher #jaskier #geralt #whump #jaskier whump #hurt/comfort #oc warning #chapter 2 coming?#maybe #what person is this even written in #i have no clue #help #my writing

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bluesfortheredj · 4 years

Text

The Sweet Escape Chapter 7.

Fri 23rd June

There was a lot less bewilderment when you woke up this time, knowing that you’d be in a room that wasn’t yours next to the man who had hijacked your holiday for one, and a smile creeps across your lips as you come around to find yourself wrapped up in his arms with your head resting against his muscular chest and your legs intertwined with his as if you were both two parts of the same puzzle. You’d forgotten what a truly blissful feeling it was to wake up next to someone, to feel their warmth covering you so much that you didn’t need the duvet, to smile as you feel your head rising and falling with every breath they take, and to just feel wanted again. Everything felt different this time though, not just because it was another person but because it genuinely felt as if they liked you just as much as you liked them, and there was no confusion over where you stood.

“No,” Gwilym frowns sleepily with his eyes closed as you try and escape his grasp, “no moving yet.”

“But I need the toilet,” you whisper.

“Nope,” he mumbles, his arms tightening around your body.

“Yes!”

You laugh as you peel yourself away from his body then slip out from underneath the duvet and quickly make your way to the bathroom across the carpeted floor, then you smile as you return to see Gwil’s arm already outstretched for you to resume your original position at his side, his eyes still closed as he refuses to wake before the alarm goes off.

“Don’t just stand there,” he grins without opening an eyelid, “come back to where you belong.”

“Where I belong?” you laugh as you lift the covers to get back in.

“Mhmm,” he hums, “with me.”

You raise your eyebrows as his answer and your mouth opens and closes as you try to find something to say back, but you’re not entirely sure what you could say to such a statement, and as he lazily drapes his arms around you to pull you back into his side all you can do is smile at his words. The two of you soon fall asleep again, and you only wake when you feel Gwilym’s fingers running through your hair to gently rouse you from your slumber.

“What’s the time?” you ask as you stretch your arms above your head, “how come you’re dressed?”

“Half seven, got half an hour before breakfast,” he replies softly.

“Shit! Why didn’t you wake me?!” you panic as you throw the covers off of you and collect your belongings to head next door.

“Do you know how cute you look when you’re asleep?! I couldn’t wake you before I absolutely had to I’m afraid.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “see you at breakfast.”

“Erm, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah?”

“Forgetting something are we?” he smirks as he holds up your bra which is hanging from his little finger.

You look down at the top you were wearing then back up to him and narrow your eyes before crawling across the bed to retrieve the item of clothing, but he moves it away as soon as you reach out for it.

“Gwilym, I really don’t have time for this!”

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” he smiles, his gaze darting from your eyes to your lips.

Just like that you are putty in his hands and he soon has you on your back on top of the bed covers, his face hovering dangerously close to yours with a smug smile across it, then his lips meet yours in a needy kiss and your hands are quick to pull his weight down on top of you. Your hips grind together, the bulge in his trousers rubbing against your knickers as your arousal seeps into fabric of them, and as his lips travel down over your jaw to your exposed neck an involuntary moan escapes your mouth. Just as his fingers tease their way past the hem of your t-shirt the bell rings from outside the room to signify it was eight already.

“Fuck!” you gasp, as Gwil groans, “you’re going to have to say I’m ill or something!”

“Why can’t you come as you are?” he pouts as he lifts himself off of the bed begrudgingly.

“Oh yeah, I’ll just wander into the dining room with bed hair wearing my knickers and your t-shirt with no bra underneath!”

“Well I’m pretty sure the old guy on the table opposite us would enjoy the view almost as much as me.”

“Fuck off,” you laugh, getting off the bed and pulling on your jeans, “pass me my bra would you?”

He throws it over to you and you turn around to whip off the top so you can put your bra on and cover yourself again, then you run your fingers through your hair to try and sort out the tangled mess to be at least a bit more presentable, and finally you nod towards the door.

“Morning you two,” Danielle smiles when you take your seats.

“Morning,” you chime together.

“Do I need to go and clean your room today, or can I save my poor old legs?” she asks with a knowing raise of her eyebrows.

“You can save your legs Danielle,” you confirm.

“Good… Very good! Well I hope you two are having fun together...”

“We are,” Gwil grins, “...not like that though, I haven’t… We haven’t…”

“You don’t need to explain to me!” Danielle laughs as she backs away after placing your breakfasts down.

“Great, now she definitely thinks we’ve had sex,” you whisper, “she’s like family and now she thinks I’ve slept with you under their roof.”

“Well if she thinks we’ve done it already, then it doesn’t matter if we do...” Gwilym winks.

“I haven’t forgiven you that much quite yet.”

“You almost did this morning!”

“I would have stopped you eventually...” you lie.

“Yeah, right after you’d screamed my name while you came,” he smirks.

“Gwilym!” you gasp, “you know me so well already.”

Once breakfast is over for another day you both head back to the annex and gather your things from his room to take back into yours, but he stops you when you go to open his door by taking a hold of your arm gently, and you turn to see a concerned look upon his face.

“What’s wrong?” you question.

“What’s wrong?” he scoffs as if you should know what’s going through his mind, “it’s our last night together tonight and tomorrow is our last morning… What’s going to happen then?”

“Can’t we just enjoy today without thinking so far ahead?” you sigh.

“No,” he states defiantly with a shake of his head, “I need to know I’m going to see you again, I need to know that this isn’t the last time I get to sleep next to you, because I really don’t know what I’ll do if it is.”

“Can’t we just enjoy today for what it is? We only live about an hour away from each other anyway, so of course we can see one another when we’re back home.”

“No, no, that’s not the same, you’re being vague. What about us?”

You want to run away, you never liked talking about your feelings and Gwilym was someone who was very open with them, and although you’d felt so happy this morning you were still unsure of what to make of all this. It would be easier if it were just kept as a holiday fling, surely? What if you got back to the mainland and things fell apart because you two had been so wrapped up in this perfect little world you had while away? How could you both adjust whatever this was to real life? He was heading home to a completely different world now, and would have so much to sort out with explaining what happened to friends and family; it wouldn’t help at all if a new person was mentioned.

“Listen, Gwil, this has been-”

“(Y/N), please.”

“Just listen!” you sigh, “this has been a really wonderful time, and despite what happened I do really like you, but I just feel it would be better if we left it at this.”

“Why?!”

“Because you’ve got a shitstorm to go back to, a shitstorm that would be made so much worse by the mention of another woman’s name. And what if this was all it was meant to be? What if we find that in real life we’re not compatible at all? We’ve been living in a bubble here, no responsibilities, no jobs, no friends or family sticking their noses in… It’ll be completely different when we get back home, and you know it. I just want to enjoy our last full day on the island together, can we do that and then talk about this later?”

“Okay,” he relents with a sigh, “later.”

“Let’s just enjoy today, yeah?” you suggest softly as your hand cups his cheek and your thumb runs from the corner of his mouth into his stubble.

He nods in response then briefly leans into your touch before you disappear to your room to freshen up and get changed and you tap lightly on his door when you return, him answering it with car keys in hand already.

“Where are we going today then?” you ask.

“You choose,” he smiles, “here.”

He hands you his car keys and you look at him in astonishment.

“You’re trusting me with your car?” you half laugh.

“Yep,” he nods, “I know you’ve been dying to have a go.”

It was true, his car was brand new and a model you could only wish of owning with all the latest technology on the dashboard, and it was such a smooth ride you’d been itching to have a go yourself.

“Right then, let’s go!” you grin excitedly.

You spend the day showing him all the old haunts you used to go to with your parents when you were younger, although some of them had been closed for a long time, and lunch is spent on a beach front overlooking the sea and inhaling the salty air while you eat, laugh, and reminisce about your childhoods. Studying his face as he looks out towards the water, you notice how calm and at ease he seems right now, and you rest your chin on your hand as you watch him intently.

“What?” he asks with a smile as he turns back to face you.

“You look different.”

“So do you.”

“Must be the sea air,” you sigh happily.

You drag him over to the arcades after lunch and spend the rest of the afternoon on the penny machines and trying to grab a stuffed animal with the claw ones, and just as you’re about to admit defeat with the stuffed bears, Gwilym comes up behind you and lowers a chocolate coloured teddy down in front of your face with a love heart clutched between its paws.

“Ta daaa!” he laughs as you take the animal from him, “especially for you.”

“It’s amazing,” you chuckle as you hold it against your chest and turn around to face him, “how did you get him?”

“Persistence,” he winks, “and a shit load of 20 pence pieces!”

“Thank you,” you grin giddily before giving him a kiss.

Gwilym drives you both back to the guest house in time for dinner but after dessert you tell him to stay put for another five minutes and grab his key from the table before running next door to change into your pyjamas then lock up your room before getting into his bed with a bottle of bucks fizz that Danielle had given you for your birthday, and you wait patiently for him to arrive.

“Are you decent?” he asks through the door eventually.

“Not at all, but come in,” you reply with a giggle.

“What’s this?!” he asks when he opens the door to find you sat up in his bed in your shorts and vest with the bottle balanced on the duvet next to you.

“A little party for two… or three actually,” you say as you lift the covers to reveal the bear sitting on Gwil’s pillow.

He chuckles as he shuts and locks the door then he moves to his side of the bed and throws the bear across the room before taking its place under the duvet with you.

“Hey!” you frown, “my bear!”

“Three’s a crowd,” he grins, grabbing the bottle and opening it up.

@painthatiusedto @winnielinleigh @queenslandlover-93 @excellentbecca @peachllobotomy @lovemarvelousfics @lovemelikeyou1997 @readinghorn @godohammers @timeandpixiedust @lv7867 @fuckyou-imspiderman @aynsleywalker @the-baby-bookworm @chlobo6 @drivenbybri @mazzellosjoe @muralskins

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee fanfic #gwilym lee fluff #gwilym lee x reader

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strcwberryfields · 3 years

Note

❤ - sam and isla

once again i have popped off

1. Swirling clouds of smoke twisted around their heads as they shared a joint on the beach, the water touching their toes as it lapped onto the shore where they sat. Sam wanted to lie down and close his eyes, maybe fall asleep, maybe just rest. Either way, he wanted to do it wrapped up in Isla. With the joint hanging from his lips he reached for her arm and tugged her closer, and she giggled, following him in suit to lie down in the sand with her head on his chest. Once they were lying, Sam took another long hit before putting the joint in front of Isla's lips for her to take it. He closed his eyes, and thought he might really fall asleep when—

"Hey!" he yelped, laughing as he felt Isla's fingers tickling his sides. "What d'you think you're doing?" he said as he swiftly moved so he was on top of her, pinning her hands lightly against the sand. "I was totally havin' a moment there," Sam chuckled, a smirk coming to his face.

"When I see the opportunity for a sneak attack, I take it," she teased, and Sam reveled in the way she looked at him.

"Pain in my ass, you are," Sam tutted, taking the joint and relighting it. Inhaling the smoke he leaned down to her face, bringing one of his hands to part her lips with his thumb to blow the smoke into her mouth.

"Oh please, you love me," she countered. And instead of answering he kissed her, and wondered why he ever wanted to sleep in the first place.

—

2. "Dunno why she's putting on a whole get up for little old me," Sam chuckled, sipping a tea at Eleanor and Isla's kitchen table.

"You're going out to dinner, she wants to look nice!" Eleanor defended, then turned around from the stove with a smirk. "You're looking pretty sharp yourself."

"Don't I always?"

"God you've got the fattest head in the world," she snorted, turning back to what she was cooking and Sam laughed quietly. "You two have any other romantic plans for the evening after dinner?" she asked, and Sam wanted to laugh again over the fact that Eleanor didn't turn around to face him.

"Aye, so romantic, I was plannin' on proposing after we eat," Sam replied, rolling his eyes. Between her and Scott the teasing seemed endless despite his and Isla's insistence that they weren't anything more than friends. Sam spent a lot of time these days reminding himself of that, too. Not that he'd ever say as much out loud.

"All I'm saying is I don't know how many more dates you two can go on before—“

"Eleanor please stop harassing Sam!" Isla called from her bedroom, rushing out into the kitchen. Sam's breath caught in his throat and he nearly choked on his tea over how stunning she looked. "Five more minutes, I promise. I'm sorry, this bride I'm working with has been a little nightmarish and--oh, I'll tell you all about her at dinner," she rushed, scurrying back into her room.

"For the record, I will never stop harassing Sam," Eleanor called back with a chuckle as Isla disappeared again. She turned to Sam and noticed his expression, and she tried to bite back the smug grin on her face that Sam clocked immediately. "She looks fantastic doesn't she?" Eleanor muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Aye, she always does," Sam said with a laugh that he hoped came across more relaxed than he felt.

"You're so in love with her," Eleanor said casually, studying his face for a moment before turning back around again to the stove to giggle.

"What time is me brother supposed to come around again?" Sam chuckled, though his heart rate quickened and he wanted to throw up over the thought of being discovered.

—

3. Why did I ever stop drinking? Sam thought to himself as he and Isla clumsily entered his house. She hung off of his shoulder, drunken and needy, her hands wandering over his body—one she knew well by now. He smacked his hand around the wall to find light switch, though the feeling of Isla's lips on his neck was distracting, and he could hardly see straight anyway. He pulled her to the best of his abilities over to the couch and they flopped over the back of it and onto the cushions where he slid over her, his hands pushing her dress lazily up her torso. Sam's head spun with its usual tornado of thoughts, now clouded in an old and familiar way. Euphoria and despair played their ever-present game of tug of war as Isla kissed him. Only it was easier to ignore when whiskey replaced the blood in his veins. It always made everything easier, he decided. A decision he usually made after he was halfway to the bottom of a bottle. He never meant for her to see him like this. He’d been trying to stay away from her until he sorted himself out. But he couldn’t stay away, he was selfish and the only time he felt half okay was when he was with her. Sam never meant for any of this to happen with her. Blaring like a siren in his mind above the guilt and the sadness, and the pain there was always herherher.

Once they finished Sam all but crawled to his room to take another swig from the bottle of whiskey he'd bought that morning, and came back out in his drunken stupor to scoop Isla up into his arms and bring her to his bed. If he weren't so careful about the way he drank, he would've said something he shouldn't after hearing the beautiful sound of her laugh when he picked her up. "God I'm so fucking drunk," she giggled, settling into his bed and reaching out for him. "Why're you looking at me like that, loverboy?"

"Like what?" Sam slurred, his head lolling to look at the ceiling instead.

"Like you're totally in love with me," she mumbled, still giggling and turning her face into his chest.

"Very funny, bug," he replied quietly, and at once felt like he'd sobered up.

—

4. Surely the only way to rid himself of whatever was going on with his feelings towards Isla was to bring someone else home, right? It was only fair considering Isla was busy, doing whatever or whoever, he guessed. And he didn’t really care, because they were friends. Any motivation to ask out the new dancer who’d started at the resort a weeks ago was purely because he wanted to. She was pretty and he’d spoken with her a few times and she’d be a perfect person to lose himself with for at least a night. He didn’t think at all about the idea that he would go over to Scott’s tomorrow and talk loudly about the affair in front of Eleanor because he knew she would tell Isla about it. While he had this woman in his bed, feeling her hands all over him, he tried so hard to stop thinking. But all he could see when he closed his eyes was Isla’s face, and he wished that it was her who was beneath him instead. Sam stopped suddenly and let out a frustrated sigh.

“What’s wrong?” She asked. Sam missed when he was drunk and didn’t care about the disappointment in a woman’s voice when he inevitably let her down. “You have a girlfriend, I knew it, I’ve seen you with her before—“

“Oi! No, no. I don’t have a girlfriend, she’s not my girlfriend,” Sam rushed. He knew who she was talking about without her having to say it.

“Oh…I just thought, well I’d heard some things about you and her,” she said, and Sam visibly cringed a little. It was bad enough that he wanted to wipe away his feelings for Isla, and the thought of them being obvious even to relative strangers made him feel sick. And he wished that gossip didn’t travel like wildfire as it tended to do at work. “So you’re not together?”

“No.” Sam didn’t want to elaborate, didn’t want to talk about Isla anymore. He moved to kiss her, and after a few minutes she gently pushed him away again.

“I can tell when I’m hooking up with a guy who loves someone else,” she said, and the words felt like a buckle to his back.

—

5. “Ha! You’re jealous,” Scott said, and Sam’s gloved right hand collided with the pad Scott was wearing on his left hand.

“How does that make me jealous? I know the guy, he’s a dickhead,” Sam countered and whacked the pads in a combination.

“Been sayin’ a lot of her dates are dickheads lately.” Sam was very close to purposefully missing a pad in favor of his hand knocking the smug grin right off of his brother’s face.

“Because they are fuckin’ dickheads,” he grumbled, and Scott chuckled as Sam threw a few more frustrated punches. He felt like an idiot, and he knew Scott was right. But he couldn’t give him the satisfaction of confirming that to him. Scott had hardly given any to him when he was on the receiving end of the teasing. On top of the fact that Sam was doing his very best to get rid of any feelings of jealousy or affection or whatever it was for Isla.

“Facts are you’re in love with her laddie,” Scott teased, and Sam rolled his eyes, removed his gloves and tossed one right at his brother’s head.

“Facts are I’m gonna kick your ass laddie,” he retorted, cracking a smile as Scott dissolved into laughter.

—

+1. “—aye that sunrise is still feckin' crazy," Maeve interrupted herself, speaking through Sam's computer screen. He'd faced the webcam to position the rising sun over the ocean, since he knew how much his mother loved it. Sam let out an affectionate laugh at her outburst and waited for her to continue her thought. "I'm really losing me 'ead in me old age aren't I?"

"Ya don't look a day over twenty-nine, Ma," Sam said with a wry grin.

"Aye, shut yar gob. Anyway, when are you getting Isla on the video to meet me?"

"I've actually got a better idea," he began, "I was thinkin' we take a trip to Donegal sometime soon. I think she'd like that."

Maeve let out a small yelp in surprise and Sam heard his Aunt Colleen call what's the matter?! from another room in the house. "Sammy's going to visit soon!" she called, leaning just slightly off camera before turning her attention back to Sam. The expression on her face made him want to start crying. "You know how much I miss ya, how much everyone 'ere misses ya. And how much I'm reelin' to finally meet this girl," she said, cocking an eyebrow, and Sam ducked his head bashfully. There were plenty of things he hadn't yet disclosed to his mother for a multitude of reasons--like his relapse and the complicated details of his and Isla's relationship—but he'd mentioned Isla's name to Maeve months ago when he foolishly thought she would only ever be a good friend. And every so often during their calls Maeve would ask about her with a smug lilt to her voice that Sam recognized well. And like everyone else, she of course knew long before he did that he cared for Isla much more than he wanted to let on. Which of course, was all absurd now in the present day.

"I want you and the lot to meet her too," Sam agreed. "And in person. Not over this shitey webcam."

"You really love her, aye?" Maeve's smile was as fond as Sam had ever seen it.

"I do," he replied, laughing again at the excited smile on his mother's face.

#otp: i used to burst and decay #★ ask memes ★#waves1x1

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spacesnail3000 · 5 years

Text

Brooklyn’s Sweetheart Chapter 10: Goody Two-Shoes Catholic Schoolgirl

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Chapter Summary: The boys like long walks on the beach, messy ice cream cones, expensive liquors, and, of course, public displays of affection (which is putting it mildly). Although that’s not her idea of a perfect date, she still wants to prove she can keep up.

Word Count: 6,404

Warnings: Language, drinking, smut (noncon breathplay, dubcon public sex, fingering, some really intense stuff in this chapter, be warned!!!)

Masterlist / AO3

A/N: Aaaaaaah I posted this chapter last night and today when I tried to change a tag and reblog it, it broke the chapter!! How do I reblog things without breaking my posts??? I just hope I’m not making duplicates of this by posting again ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Here, baby, you got a little—” Steve reached his hand towards her face to wipe off a smear of chocolate syrup from the corner of her mouth, but she caught on too soon and her own thumb beat him there. A quick swipe of her finger and the chocolate was gone, and her thumb was in her mouth, sucking it off, wide innocent eyes flickering back and forth between Steve and Bucky.

Bucky didn’t realize he had groaned until Y/N was smirking at him with glossy pink lips, her ice cream cone melting in her hands. After dinner, they had walked around and finally decided on ice cream. That had altogether been a mistake for Steve and Bucky, because it allowed their girl to finally realize that she had just as much power to tease them in public as they did.

She felt much looser after Steve had secretly gotten her a gin of her own at the restaurant, and now she was settling back into their old dynamic with the added exception that they touched her much more than usual. The sexual tension was driving them all crazy.

They were both painfully hard in their jeans watching her lick creamy vanilla drops of melted ice cream off her waffle cone. At least they were sitting at a table outside the ice cream shop and the surrounding area was mostly deserted.

“Seems like I’m winning the game, now,” she simpered, her mouth running quicker with the alcohol in her blood.

Bucky swallowed hard, because she was right, but he schooled himself and smirked at her. “In your dreams, sweetheart.”

Steve was a little more flustered and was having a harder time with her newfound confidence. “You don’t win the game. That’s not a thing. It’s rigged against you for a reason.”

Cocking an eyebrow, she glanced surreptitiously to their crotches, the prominent bulges confined by denim. “But I’m clearly winning.”

The waffle cone dropped to the ground with a sad crunch as Steve grabbed her arm and started pulling her in the direction of the car. “We’ll see how long that lasts when we get back to the house.”

Once they got back, Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter with their girl wrapped in his arms, hands wandering around her body as she squirmed. Meanwhile, Steve rooted through the liquor cabinet.

“How long of this can you take, doll?” Bucky whispered, breath hot against her ear. His hands trailed up her thighs, raising the hem of her skirt indecently high.

“Hey!” she whined, breathless, as he revealed her pussy, although of course nobody was there to see it except Steve, who glanced up from the liquor cabinet to leer at her before going back to his search. She had no idea what he was looking for, but he had told Bucky to keep her busy, so she suspected that he was taking a long time on purpose.

“Ah-ha!” Steve exclaimed, head emerging, a twenty-year-old bottle of cognac in his hands, while Bucky’s fingers skated over the juncture between her leg and pussy, the tips just grazing the outside of her labia before disappearing, and then she felt the soft fabric of her skirt against her once again.

“I like the way you think, Rogers,” Bucky said as Steve brandished the liquor bottle. His arms returned to her waist, and he squeezed her tight. The sound she made was in between a squeal and a giggle and it made Bucky’s stomach do a cartwheel.

As Steve reached into the upper cabinets to take down three of her father’s brandy snifters, she said, “My dad got that for my mom for their fifteenth wedding anniversary.”

“Your mom likes cognac?” Bucky was surprised. They usually saw her mother with a vodka soda—fewer calories, of course.

“No,” she laughed, “That’s why she left it here.” Steve snorted, pouring their glasses before handing one to each. “Here, I’ll teach you guys the proper way to drink it,” she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

“There’s a proper way to drink cognac?” Bucky asked.

“There’s a proper way to drink all alcohol,” she answered with a roll of her eyes.

“Well go on then,” Steve said, nudging her with his elbow. “Teach us what you know.”

She held the glass with the palm of her hand cupping the rounded bottom. “Hold it like this so the heat from your hand warms up the cognac.” The boys followed her lead. “The way the top of the glass is narrow traps the aroma, so then you can smell it,” and she did, and the boys did too. She continued, “And you can make some kind of bullshit comment about how the oak note is most profound, and there’s a subtle fruity scent, and a spicy undertone like cinnamon or nutmeg. And then everyone thinks you’re really cultured but the truth is you’re just making everything up but nobody else knows enough about it to contradict you.”

Bucky snorted and ducked his head against her shoulder, and even Steve huffed a laugh. “Who taught you that? Your dad?”

“My dad’s that type of guy,” she confirmed, sipping the drink. “They’re both all into that high society stuff. I could tell you what meats go best with cognac, what cheeses to pair with it. How to make a good sidecar—I think we have Cointreau down there, actually.”

“I thought you never drank before,” Bucky said.

She shrugged, “My dad would let me have a little sip every now and then. That’s how you’re supposed to drink cognac, not chugging it like that,” she nodded to Steve how had been taking a long drink. Immediately he lowered the glass and glared at her.

“If you’re so cultured, what’re you doing here slumming it with us Brooklyn boys?” Bucky asked, squeezing her again with the arm he still had wrapped around her middle.

“Hey,” she whined, jabbing back at him with her elbow. “I’d prefer hanging out with you over going to one of my mom’s fancy dinner parties any day.”

And it was true. Despite all that they had put her through over the past few days, she still cherished their friendship, and she still enjoyed hanging out with them—when they weren’t testing her physical boundaries, that is.

Even when they were, maybe she didn’t mind it as much as she let on. Or maybe she was only thinking that way because of the alcohol.

“Aww,” Bucky cooed teasingly, “Our girl’s such a sap, Stevie.”

“Both’a you are big saps,” Steve said, hiding his smile in his glass.

She rolled her eyes. “Why do I like you guys again?”

They continued their little banter, getting looser and looser as they finished their glasses. Bucky and Steve each had another glass, but she only got halfway through her second before Steve decided she had had enough.

Bucky’s hands continued roaming her body throughout, sometimes teasing her enough to distract her from whatever she was saying only for his hands to move back to innocent territory, leaving her wanting and needy and frustrated, although she wasn’t quite ready to speak up about it yet.

Truthfully, the alcohol was the only reason she wasn’t objecting to his touch as much as she usually would. Her brain, in its alcohol-induced haze, reasoned that she needed to pick her battles, that maybe she could relax for the night.

She just felt so good, like honey flowed through her body, and she relished the slow, sweet, stickiness—and oh boy, did her thighs feel sticky. It was almost distracting—but then again, everything was distracting. Was she drunk? Is this how being drunk felt?

“Let’s take a walk on the beach,” Bucky suggested, “It’s a nice night out.”

“Good idea,” Steve smirked at him and she easily agreed, inhibitions lowered. She leaned into their touch as they led her outside. Steve had one arm slung around her waist while Bucky held onto her hand, shoulders brushing.

Once they reached the sand, she kicked off her sandals with a giggle and left them at the back gate to the house. Bucky and Steve toed their shoes off, too, leaving three pairs waiting for them to get back.

It was a quiet night, a crescent moon shining in the sky and sending barely enough light down to see in front of them. Stripes of silver reflected off the waves and the only sound was the hush of the water and their mild conversation, Y/N’s occasional giggles.

As they walked further down the beach and away from the house, Steve slipped his hand down, playing with the top of her skirt and then cupping her ass through the thin fabric. At first, she tensed again, but then relaxed when all he seemed content to do was touch her through her clothes, going no further for a long while. Steve’s touch had her feeling more apprehensive for some reason—maybe she was getting used to Bucky after the past few days. Maybe she would get used to Steve with time, too.

The cognac had hit her by then, and she had her own arm draped across Steve’s wide back for balance. Her mouth was running on its own as they talked about nonsense.

“I really like your tattoos,” she was saying.

“Well they’re all mob tattoos, sugar,” Steve said. His own tattoos included the one on his lower abdomen, the official seal of the mob across his chest, a large piece on his back with an eagle emerging from the sun, and a tribute to his mother on his arm—a custom design of a blue jay perched on a heart, surrounded by her favorite flowers: Queen Anne’s lace, hydrangeas, and gladiolus flowers. There were more, small and large, and she wondered how many there would be if she counted them.

Both he and Bucky had gotten a matching tattoo together, a black star on their bicep, to memorialize their brotherhood. Bucky had fewer tattoos than Steve, but he also had the seal of the mob, a traditional portrait of the Statue of Liberty on his other bicep, and a piece on his stomach that included a white wolf.

“That’s a lie,” she said, and her fingers skimmed over his right bicep where the tattoo for his mother was. Steve stiffened a little, not wanting to get into this conversation. She didn’t say anything about it though, and then her hand dropped, running down his chest, dipping up under the hem of his t-shirt and tickling across the BROOKLYN tattoo on his stomach. It was a bold move for her, but her brain didn’t question it, the alcohol controlling her actions now. His cock twitched at her touch and he squeezed her tighter, imagining her hands drifting lower.

Before he could do anything, her hand was gone and she was saying something else. “I think I’ll get a tattoo one day.”

Bucky snorted. “Yeah, right, sure you will.”

She smacked him in the arm but then he captured her hand in his again, placing a sweet kiss to her knuckles. “I will!”

“You’re a little goody two-shoes Catholic schoolgirl,” Bucky said, “You’re not gonna get a tattoo. Plus, you father would never let you.”

“I don’t need his permission. I’m 18.”

It was Steve’s turn to laugh. “Yes you do, sweetheart.”

“And I’m not that good!”

“You sing in the church choir,” Bucky said, “You’re literally an angel.”

“I break the rules sometimes!”

“Oh yeah?” Steve asked, squeezing her ass tight. “What rules have you broken?”

She had to think about it. “One time I skipped class with Wanda and we went to Prospect Park and got ice cream.”

“What class?”

“…Okay, it was our free period. But we’re not supposed to leave campus during free period!”

“Oh, Stevie, I think she wants to be a bad girl. She’s trying so hard to prove herself.” She spluttered in response, not knowing the right thing to say. Because it wasn’t true—she didn’t want to be bad… She just wanted them to know she was capable of it. The alcohol made her want to match their debauchery, although she had never had the urge to before.

Steve turned to her, stopping her in her tracks. He pulled her closer and took her chin in his fingers. “You know when you break the rules, you get punished, sweetheart. You willing to accept the consequences?”

She frowned and said, “You only get punished if you get caught.”

“I’ll catch you every time.”

Lost in his intense gaze, the alcohol and her arousal dulling her brain function, she could only pout at him.

“C’mon,” he groped at her ass again and then swooped her up over his shoulder while she squealed. “Let’s get in the water.” He wanted to see her wet and shivering for him—ever since he saw her in that little white tank top, all he could think was how the fabric would look when it was soaked.

“What?” she cried, “No way! It’s too cold!” She hit at his back but before she knew it, he was tossing her into the ocean. The water wasn’t that high, but he set her down with enough force than she fell over onto her ass, a wave rushing over her suddenly. She shrieked at the feeling and then scrambled up. It was barely shin-deep, and the bottom of his pants were getting wet, but it was worth it to see her like this.

The fabric of her top was soaked through, clinging obscenely to her breasts, nipples clearly visible beneath. Her skirt was dripping wet and sticking to her hips. As Steve admired her, her anger was charging up, and then she came at him, hitting his chest with her little fists.

Her weak punches only made him laugh and he easily captured her wrists in his hands. “Sorry, baby,” he shrugged.

“No you’re not!” she yelled, struggling against him. “You’re such a jerk sometimes!” She was mad, but only a little. Truthfully, she was feeling so great that she didn’t really mind, nor did she realize how provocative her clothing had become.

He laughed at her feigned fury and held her back at his arm’s length, eyeing her body again—although she seemed almost oblivious to his wandering gaze. She only noticed when he spoke. “Look at you, doll.” His voice was almost a growl, low in his chest, rumbling through his body and to hers. She shivered as the wind swept by them, and her nipples pebbled in her top.

“Wow,” Bucky drawled, now stepping up next to them. He had rolled his jeans up so they wouldn’t get wet. “Lookin’ like a wet dream, sweetheart.”

She blushed and ducked her head, but Steve lifted her chin and kissed her deeply. This time, she didn’t pull away or struggle, she only gave into it, leaning into him and kissing him back tentatively. It helped that his body was so warm and she was freezing now, soaking wet. He dominated her mouth, the kiss, but she sank into the sensation, the anxiety that usually fueled her resistance quelled by the rush of alcohol through her veins.

On his tongue, she could taste cognac and peppermint and the Parliaments he smoked, and his lips were a little chapped, rough on her own. A shudder went through her and he wrapped her up in his arms. Bucky came up behind her and ran his large palms up and down her arms. Their warmth seeped into her, making her feel like she was melting against them like warm honey, every part of her going loose and limp. Wetness gathered between her thighs, only heightening her arousal, which had been simmering in her stomach all night.

Bucky’s hand snuck between their bodies and he cupped her sex fully in his hand, the only barrier between their skin being her skirt, the fabric still damp with seawater. She moaned into Steve’s mouth and he brought his own hands down to grab her ass, pulling her body further into Bucky’s hand.

“Oh,” she groaned at the delicious pressure, allowing Steve to grind her hips against the hand.

“Soaking through your skirt, baby doll,” Bucky growled into her neck. His hand bypassed her skirt and then it was on her heated skin, and she mewled from the dizzying sensation. While he palmed at her clit, his fingers slipped through her folds, needlessly spreading her wetness—she had already dripped halfway down her thighs. “Stevie, she’s so wet for us,” he moaned against her shoulder, easily slipping one finger into her cunt.

Steve broke the kiss, and she turned her head to gasp at the barrage of arousal sweeping through her. Chuckling against her cheek, Steve muttered, “I’m sure she is. Her nipples have been hard since we were at the restaurant—seems like she liked our teasing more than she let on.”

“Is that true, darling?”

“No.” Shaking her head, eyes shut, her head lolling back onto Bucky’s shoulder. “It’s not true.” But her pussy contracted against his finger and when he slid another in, she clutched at Steve’s arms, crying out breathily.

“Stop lying to us,” Steve grunted against her neck, pressing slick kisses along her skin. She smelled like lavender and oranges and vanilla, the new perfume she wore sinking into her damp skin, the wetness and the heat between their bodies amplifying the scent. “Stop lying to yourself.” He pressed her down harder onto Bucky’s hand and the tips of his fingers pressed into places so deep, places that had never been touched before.

She keened and panted, then collected her wits and said, “’m not lying.”

Immediately, suddenly, Bucky pulled his fingers out and smacked her pussy twice, hard, causing her to cry out and lurch forward. She collided with Steve’s chest and stumbled, but he steadied her before she fell. “Good girls don’t lie, baby,” Bucky growled, biting down hard on her shoulder. “Do they?”

She shook her head, but whether it was at his question, or at the notion that she was lying, or at him denying her pleasure just as she was about to come, was anybody’s guess.

Then Steve’s hands were working at Bucky’s fly. “Bucky’s gonna fuck you, baby doll, and you’re gonna come so hard for him, as many times as I say, until—”

“Wait!” she gasped, some of her senses coming back to her suddenly as she reminded her own drunk ass that they were in public and someone could see.

It was one thing to have Bucky touching her when they were on the sailboat in the middle of the bay, and another to have them touching her at a booth in a private little corner of a restaurant across the island. But it was an entirely different thing to have Bucky’s cock against her ass on the shoreline in this area of town. It wasn’t incredibly busy, but there were a few other houses up and down the beach. None too close—they weren’t fucking in someone’s backyard—but someone could walk along the beach and come across them right there.

Despite her sudden protest, they ignored her—like always. As Steve’s hands unzipped Bucky’s jeans and Bucky flipped her skirt up, she darted out of their grasps, past Steve, and up the shoreline, into the shallower waters until she was almost at the sand.

They caught up to her in no time, and Steve wound his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, practically carrying her now. Her feet left the earth and he growled in her ear, “Baby, good girls don’t run.”

“Wait!” she turned in his arms and placed her delicate hands on his broad shoulders. “Let’s go back to the house! Please! Someone could see!”

He smirked and Bucky positioned himself behind her. They were no longer so deep in the surf—the waves only lapped at their feet occasionally now, the foam tickling their toes.

“No one will see, doll,” Bucky assured her, running his hands up her arms soothingly. “I promise—I’ve never seen anyone out here this late. Plus, a lot of people just went home so all the summer homes are vacant now.”

Her face showed skepticism but she allowed Bucky to pull her down to the ground, her knees sinking into the sand, and Steve followed when Bucky tugged on his hand.

“Just relax. No one will see,” Steve whispered to her before taking her face in his hands and kissing her. This was remarkably affectionate for Steve, and it caught her so off-guard that she sank into the kiss, paying more attention to his thumbs stroking her cheeks than Bucky lifting her skirt up. Bucky kissed her neck and his stubble on her sensitive skin added to the sensations her mind was processing as he touched her ass, spread her cheeks apart.

“So fucking pretty,” he rumbled against her neck, his hand drifting down to play with the wetness on her thighs. “Stevie, you should really feel her.”

Steve’s hand joined Bucky’s, his short fingernails raking up the inside of her thigh before pressing against her pussy. “Oh, Bucky,” Steve groaned, “She’s ready for you. Aren’t you, baby?”

“No, I—I’m—” She had no idea what she was about to say, why she was still protesting, when they had teased her to the edge so many times that night that she would do just about anything to come. Her words were cut off when Steve pressed three fingers against her cunt, spreading her labia open before sinking his fingers deep inside. “Please,” she squeaked when he found that spot deep inside her that made her cry out without even realizing she made a sound, and then his fingers were pressing hard and fast into that spot until she was practically limp as she leaned back against Bucky.

“Ah, right there,” Steve said pridefully, dragging her almost to the edge and pulling back right as she was about to come. He licked his fingers off with a smirk and when she whined about his stopping, he said, “I want you coming on Bucky’s cock so he can feel how good it is.”

The next moment, she felt Bucky’s cock where Steve’s fingers had been, the blunt tip pressing inside of her and splitting her apart. As she was distracted by the feeling of Bucky slowly filling her inch by inch, Steve tugged down the thin straps of her tank top, fingers drifting to pull at the neckline until one of her breasts was freed. Bucky’s hands held her hips in place and Steve’s lips met her own, kissing her lax mouth.

She held her breath once she felt Bucky’s pelvis meet her ass, his cock completely sheathed inside of her, and she felt so full, almost on the edge of too much, but Jesus it was good. A little ball of anxiety remained in her head about if someone were to see them, but every time she dwelled too much on it, she felt overwhelmed, adrenaline coursing through her—and not necessarily in a bad way, she realized.

Then Bucky pulled back out and she actually whimpered at how it felt, the contrasting feelings of full and empty inside of her, the way his cock stretched her so perfectly.

“Fuck, her pussy feels so good,” Bucky groaned. Steve observed the scene, enraptured by the view. Bucky’s eyes shut tight, mouth open in a groan as he fucked back into her; her own face, so blissed out and flushed, lips swollen in the sweetest pout; her body, wet and wanting, clothes clinging to her skin and providing the barest amount of cover; her legs quivering, hips shifting back subtly into Bucky’s every thrust.

“Good God,” he grunted, trying to breathe through his own arousal. He could probably come right there, but he definitely wanted to wait.

“How’s that feel, baby?” Bucky asked in her ear, thrusting shallowly inside of her.

She nodded and keened at his hand sneaking around her hip and cupping her pussy again, just like before, long fingers feeling the way his cock slid in and out of her, the ball of his hand pressing up into her clit.

“Fuck,” she mewled, bucking her hips into his touch.

“Hey,” Steve snapped, twisting her nipple. “I don’t like hearing that kind of language from your mouth.” A loud cry left her lips, and Steve continued, pinching at her other nipple with quick hands. “Not so loud, baby girl,” he murmured, “Wouldn’t want the whole neighborhood to hear, would we?”

And she was so wound up already, so on the edge from their teasing, from not being able to come all night, that his words did it for her, and she was coming, hips canting back onto Bucky’s cock, back arching, chest pressing into Steve’s harsh touch.

They held her gently in their arms as she came until she was trembling, her pleasure sweeter than any drug for them. She whimpered and moaned, gasped when they touched her in just the right spots, tight hands on her hips, lips mouthing at her shoulder, harsh pinches to her nipples. Steve kissed her until she couldn’t breathe, then nudged her chin towards Bucky’s waiting lips, and Bucky kissed her through the aftershocks, still pumping his cock inside her until she whined into his mouth.

When she was done, panting into the air between the three of them, Bucky’s breath hitting her cheek, Steve chuckled against her neck. “You love this,” he told her, fingers finding her clit, Bucky thrusting harder inside of her now. She shook her head slightly and Steve grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Stop. Lying.” His teeth were gritted and he looked at her with narrowed eyes. “We can both tell how much you want it, how fucking filthy you are for us. You wanted us all throughout dinner and you want us now, and we’re not going to stop until we get our fill.”

“No,” she gasped, still trying to fight the pleasure that was building back up so quickly again. “I—I don’t—”

Steve stood up and stepped back, “Buck, hold her down and fuck her hard.”

Without the support of Steve in front of her, her body collapsed forward into the wet sand, holding herself up now on her forearms. Her body jolted forward with each punishing thrust of Bucky’s hips. Bucky leaned down over her and then she was flat on her stomach as he rutted her into the ground. Sand stuck to her skin on her arms, her chest, high on her thighs and all down her legs.

“That’s right, baby,” Bucky growled in her ear, hips thrusting wildly. “Take my cock, take it, take it.” And she was forced to do just that—lie in the sand and take it, whatever way he wanted to fuck her. She felt dizzy, her mind fuzzy, and his cock almost hurt with the force that he was fucking her. So soon after her last orgasm, it felt like it was tearing through her, and she could feel every inch of him, hard and heavy.

He shifted his hips on his next thrust and hit her g-spot dead center, and she cried out at how good it felt, hands digging into the sand in an attempt to grab onto something, coming up empty as the grains slipped through her fingers.

Bucky chuckled above her as she squirmed. “That’s it, right there, isn’t it?” He hit the spot again and again, grunting in her ear.

“Make her take it, Bucky,” Steve said, palming himself through his jeans, “Force her to take your cock. I want you to fuck her until she’s coming again. She wants you so bad, baby, I can tell.”

Bucky held her wrists in one hand and thrust into her continuously until she was practically crying, another weaker orgasm washing over her. Once it was over, she laid limp in the sand while he used her body. “We know you love it, sweetheart. You love my cock inside you, love it when we fuck you. Your pussy needs it, ain’t that right?” She shook her head feebly and he chuckled.

In one movement, Bucky yanked her upright by her shoulder into his chest, taking all the pressure of his cock off of that spot inside her. She cried out from the sudden change in stimulation. It would have been a relief if his cock wasn’t stretching her now in a totally different way, almost burning, painful, but only fueling the fire in her body more. “Please, Bucky, please—" She had no idea what she was begging for, but she needed something—a break, maybe. A minute to rest. Maybe she needed to come again. She didn’t know.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Tell me you need me to fuck you, that you need me to make you come.”

But the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth—she couldn’t make herself say them, she was too overwhelmed. The connection between her brain and her mouth was severed, and all she could do was cry out and moan into the salty air around them.

“If she’s not gonna answer you, let’s put her mouth to better use,” Steve suggested, pulling his own cock out of his jeans. He had been content to watch them, but now he was so painfully hard, he had to get his hands on her.

“No, wait, don’t—” She didn’t know how she would be able to breathe with his cock in her mouth when it was already so hard, every one of Bucky’s thrusts pushing the air from her lungs like she was being winded. But her protests fell on deaf ears and then his cock was lodged in her throat.

Fellatio wasn’t an entirely pleasant experience, she was finding—at least not like this, as she gagged and choked and slobbered all over herself. Although she did like the sounds Steve made, his little groans and grunts, the occasional whimper. It made her feel like she was taking something from him, making him more vulnerable. It made her feel powerful.

As Steve fucked deep into her mouth, her airway was cut off, and eventually she needed to breathe. Struggling and smacking against his thighs, she tried to pull away but he had a tight grip on her hair.

“Get her hands, Buck,” Steve grunted, thrusting in a little deeper and holding himself there. Once Bucky restrained her wrists behind her back, Steve took one hand from her hair and used the other to pinch her nose shut, further cutting off her oxygen supply as he fucked her face. As her body became looser and more pliant with oxygen deprivation, her mouth and throat became lax, allowing Steve’s cock to go deeper in her mouth, and when Bucky let go of her wrists, she was too weak to struggle.

“Fuck,” Bucky cursed, gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises.

“Good girl,” Steve breathed, voice low in his throat, guttural and strained, “Taking us so well, just like you’re meant to. Doing such a good job for us.”

“Gonna come soon,” Bucky grunted, forehead pressed against the base of her neck.

“Make her come again first,” Steve breathed, “Then you can come.”

Bucky brought one hand to her clit, rubbing in quick circles. Her body jerked between their grasps, every muscle quivering as she was brought closer to orgasm. The oxygen deprivation made her every nerve feel fuzzy, somehow accentuating the pleasure she felt in her core. “C’mon, honey, be a good girl and come for me.”

He wound her up tighter and she vibrated with need, letting the pleasure wash over her like a riptide in the ocean overtaking her, pulling her under as she came so hard she blacked out. They both came at the same time as her, with Bucky pulling out of her pulsing cunt to empty on her ass while Steve pulled away from her mouth and came on her face so she wouldn’t choke.

Steve had been supporting almost her entire weight with his grip on her hair, so when he finally stepped back and let her go, she almost collapsed forward before Bucky caught her. “Woah,” he breathed, easing her onto her back when he realized she was not entirely conscious.

Quickly stuffing themselves back into their pants, they kneeled at her side. Blood turning cold with fear, heart pounding out of his chest, Bucky shook her limp body gently by the shoulders. Remaining calm and collected, Steve said her name a few times, hoping to rouse her. “Baby,” he said, voice stern, “Wake up, honey.” She shifted, but did not open her eyes until Steve smacked her cheek lightly. “Wake up now, Y/N.”

Bucky felt immeasurable relief when she finally responded, frowning a little bit as she awoke. She gazed up at them with unseeing eyes, her entire body exhausted from the events of the night. Blinking lazily, eyes glazed over, she turned her face into Steve’s touch when he ran a hand through her hair.

“You did really well for us, sweetheart,” Bucky said, straightening up her clothing and brushing the sand from her skin. Whining, she twitched and shied away from the coarse gritty feeling scraping at her delicate skin. “There you go, baby, just a little more.” His hands ran over her breasts and arms, her thighs, even brushing some sand from her cheek, trying to be as gentle as possible. Meanwhile, Steve tried to wipe the come off of her face but only served to messily rub the semen into her skin before he gave up.

“We gotta get you cleaned up. How do you feel?” Steve asked, brushing sweaty strands of hair from her face.

“Tired,” she responded, closing her eyes again.

“Hey, stay awake until we get back to the house,” Steve said sternly.

She laughed weakly, just a little huff of air and a lazy twitch of her lips. “I don’t think I can walk.”

Steve smirked while Bucky laughed. “I’ll carry you,” Bucky said, collecting her from Steve.

“Was it good?” she asked, voice cracking, eyes oddly watery as she gazed up at him. He knew she was probably feeling vulnerable and sensitive after being used by them so roughly, and he knew the importance of taking care of her after a hard session like that. Aftercare was his forte, after all, and he was well-versed in comforting her after Steve’s outbursts or admonishments. This wasn’t very different from that.

Bucky nodded, cupping her cheek. “It was really good, sweetheart,” he reassured her, “You were really good, such a good girl for us.”

She looked over at Steve, an unsure look on her face. “Did you like it, Stevie?”

Steve’s eyes softened and he nodded. “I loved it, darling. You did amazing. You pleased us so well, and we can’t wait to do it again.”

Turning her head into Bucky’s chest, she nodded, seemingly content. “So did I win?”

“Win?” Bucky asked.

“Did I win the game?”

Steve laughed at that. “Yeah, honey, you definitely won.”

“I thought it was rigged against me,” she sassed him as they stood up and started to walk back to the house.

“Just because you won doesn’t mean we lost,” Steve said.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to. I make the rules.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

As they walked back to the house, Bucky kept a running dialogue of praise, telling her how good she was for them, how much they loved it. However, she was unusually quiet, even as Bucky rinsed her off and dressed her in a pair of athletic shorts and a sweatshirt.

As he tucked her into bed, he asked, “You okay, sweetheart?”

She nodded, an absent look in her eyes. “Tired.” Truthfully, she didn’t know how to feel. A dozen different emotions ran through her head, and she didn’t know which ones were rational responses to the events of the night and which were not, but she didn’t have the will to process them right now. Her mind still felt fuzzy, her body weak, sleep calling to her louder and louder with each second.

“Okay, honey.” He kissed her forehead, each of her cheeks, and finally her lips, so gently that she would have cried had she not felt so drained. “Get some sleep, baby.”

Bucky slipped into his bedroom where Steve was waiting, fresh clothes and all. As Bucky changed his own sand-covered clothes, Steve said, “I should’ve gotten a picture of her with my come all over her face.”

He hummed, because yes, that would have been hot, but also his blood still felt cold from how scared he got when she passed out. “We need to be more gentle with her,” he said finally, frustration evident in his voice as he yanked his sweats on. “You need to be more gentle.”

Slumping down on Bucky’s bed, Steve scoffed. “She won’t break. She’s perfectly fine.”

“Steve, she passed out. That shouldn’t have happened.”

Steve was on his feet then, squaring up to Bucky, faces almost touching. His tone turned cold when he spoke next. “I think I’m running the show here, Buck. I say what should or shouldn’t have happened.”

Bucky wasn’t scared by his intimidation tactics. “It’s different with her and you know it. She isn’t like the other girls we’ve shared—she’s not used to it. We need to work her up slowly to this kind of shit.”

The sound of Steve’s phone ringing interrupted their conversation. He pulled it out and frowned. “It’s Tony,” he told Bucky before answering. Tony started speaking as soon as Steve picked up, and Bucky could hear his rapid voice from the other end, although he couldn’t make out specific words. “Slow down, Tony,” Steve said, “What happened?” After a moment, he blew out a breath, his face falling. “Shit.” Tony said something else, and Steve responded, “Of course. We’ll be back in a few hours.”

Then Steve hung up and Bucky asked, “What’s that about? We need to go back to Brooklyn?”

Back to his stoic demeanor, Steve nodded, expression severe. “We need to pack up. Stane got arrested and Tony wants us back in New York immediately.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #dark!steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #dark!bucky barnes #stucky #stucky x reader #mcu #marvel #fanfiction #brooklyn’s sweetheart

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egoludes · 5 years

Text

sunkissed.

note: i promise i’m still working on updates for my series; but, after this pic showed up on my dash over the weekend, i’ve been in a tropical vacation!shawn frenzy and, well... here we are. big love to @dylshoney & @shhhawnmendes for letting me scream about this and giving me thoughts on the final product! i hope you all enjoy! wc: 3.5k warnings: nsfw, sex without a condom (i swear, i support safe sex), extremely mild reference (if you can call it that) to breeding kink

The sun is warm on your skin, rays in pretty patterns over your arms, tummy, thighs. There’s something rejuvenating about it, like all the energy from the sky is soaking in to displace what’s left of a brutal winter. You hadn’t realized just how badly you needed that until this second, and now that you’re here, well, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

Shawn seems to share the sentiment, looking more relaxed than you’ve seen him in months with his head tipped back and fingers resting on your legs in his lap. You’re in a comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company as your eyes drink in all your private villa has to offer. The view, shaded here and there by palm trees, is breathtaking. There’s a pool and hot tub below, their water as vibrantly blue as the sky above, and the contrast with the grass cut neatly around them is like something out of a painting.

When you'd first arrived, Shawn joked about all the ways you could enjoy yourselves with that much space and so many facilities ( you bite your lip just imagining it ) ; but, at the moment, you’re content to just take it all in.

“This is nice,” you murmur, gaze turning to his face and the bare expanse of his chest. He hasn’t changed since a swim this morning and neither have you. Call it too lazy, or too comfortable, but you’re in no rush to let go of the soft start to your day. The glow of it still lingers, in the way you’re resting now and in Shawn's faint smile and hint of a lazy eye as he nods his agreement.

“It is.. don’t know why it took us so long to finally get out here.”

You both know the answer to that question, but choose not to dwell on it. After all, this isn’t the place for responsibilities or obligations (both of which had delayed this trip a few months each). That’ll be for some other time, four or five days from now, when you’re back in Toronto and the world’s returned to its usual chaos.

Right now, you’re in paradise, salt water dried on your skin and lips, and Shawn’s fingers starting to move along your calves. He does this a lot — trace shapes against you when you’re resting and his mind is elsewhere. So, you don’t even bat an eye, relaxing further into the balcony sofa while he explores.

In the distance, you can hear the ocean, waves to shore in an erratic, but calming, rhythm. And between that and Shawn’s touch, you feel as if you’re floating — like being lightheaded with none of the unpleasant side effects. The airiness guides your head back in a loll and your eyes flutter a few times before closing completely.

His eyes, on the other hand, are too busy looking over you to be distracted by anything else. They start where his fingers are, watching the pads flatten on your skin in a muted sort of fascination. Then, they follow the curve of your legs, over your uncovered thighs to the spot where your bikini starts. It’s the first time you’ve worn this one and he still can’t quite handle how stunning it looks on you. His new favorite, he’d confessed on the beach.

His gaze keeps rising over your stomach, your chest, the underside of your jaw. And what'd started in appreciation slowly becomes Shawn working himself up too fast to catch himself, cheeks pink as gears start turning in his head. You’re none the wiser, humming to yourself while you bask in the tranquil moment. Which makes it easy for him to grow bold, fingers moving up over your knee, thumb bumping along the hinge, until they can find your thigh. A sharp breath rises from you and he smiles, teeth sinking into his lip - he loves seeing his affect on you.

It’s what leads him to do it again, fingers moving back to your calf before repeating the upward motion. A rhythm forms naturally, Shawn spending less and less time at the lower part of your leg with each swipe ---- and it doesn’t take long before he gets more than a breath out of you.

“Think you’re playing with fire there, Mr. Mendes.” The comment is cheeky, one eye cracked open to watch him as a grin plays at your lips.

His expression is equally as playful, an eyebrow arched as he smirks down at you. “Think that’s the point, babe…” He leans forward, maintaining eye contact until his lips meet your knee. It’s a simple gesture, innocent even — but the way his eyes are darkening, and the fingers nudging under your swim suit to find your hip, makes his intention clear as day.

He wants you.

Your body tightens from the mere thought.

There’s a moment where you weigh your options --- where you consider the chances of being caught and how much you really care if you are. But, the look in his eyes, halfway between expectant and needy, stops that in its tracks. You're too enamored to tell him no, and too brave to care about what anyone thinks about when and how you want him. So, permission comes easy, a quick nod against the cushion, and your other eye opens just as he undoes the knot securing your bikini bottom to your body. One side is enough to get it off you and Shawn’s purring when the fabric falls aside, allowing you to open your legs to him. “Oh, honey… look at you..”

The awe in his voice makes your heart swell — how does he manage to be so tender in a moment so filthy? It’s a talent, that’s for certain, and you almost coo reaching to find his curls. He falls forward into the touch, pressing another kiss to your knee before letting his fingers dip to find you too. They settle on your clit first, the press of his thumb making your mouth fall open in a gasp. Your hips lift instinctively for more pressure, but Shawn doesn’t let you chase him. His free hand moves until it can guide you back down, a curt shake of his head accompanying it.

Immediately, you let out a sheepish giggle, shrugging it off because really, who can blame you for getting a little ahead of yourself? And Shawn laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest and against you where your bodies are pressed together. “Adorable,” he muses, flicking your clit with his thumb with a little mischief behind the eyes.

“Shawn,” you hiss, hips bucking as best as they can. You want to pout, but you refuse to give in, eyes narrowing instead as you tug a curl. “Don’t be a tease.”

“‘m not,” he fires back, though that shit-eating grin tells a different story. As if proving his point, he starts to rub circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves, licking his lips when you arch off the sofa. He’s deliberate in his touches, pressing down hard but keeping his movements slow; and as much as you’d wanted to complain a moment ago, everything about it feels right. His name leaves you a second time, but this go is more sensual than indignant, a drawn out moan that spurs him on. “There we go,” he mumbles, lips finding the top of your knee once again, “gonna let me enjoy you, eh?”

You don’t know if he actually expects an answer, but the earnest makes you nod all the same, a half-dazed look on your face. The sight of it makes his groin throb and his thumb picks up its rhythm, eyes hungry as they follow the movement. You’re intoxicating enough on your own, but the way you look right now — stomach tightening and chest rising as you unravel for him — would be enough to bring him to his knees if he wasn’t sitting already. Blood rushes between his legs and he scoots closer, lap supporting your right leg while the left falls to the ground to give him more room.

Room he takes full advantage of with a finger sinking into you, all the way to the last knuckle. One stroke is enough for him to see the mess you’ve already made on him and he licks his lips, wrestling, for a moment, with the urge to taste you. After a few pumps that send you reeling, though, he sets that aside for another day (well, later on in this one, really).

A second finger joins the first, the sight of you all spread out too good to resist. And as his pace quickens, his attention darts between watching his fingers disappear inside you to your face twisted in pleasure: two images he wants to seal away for safekeeping. It’d be impossible to decide what he wants to see more — until you break the string of softer moans with a strangled whine of his name. Then, his eyes are snapping up towards your face so fast, he’s almost dizzy.

You have your head tipped back, mouth in an ‘o’ as another, raspier whine pushes its way out of you. It’s all too much for you to handle — his fingers, his mouth, his eyes picking you apart through his lashes. Your orgasm is mounting faster than you’re used to and you want to ask him to let you go so that you can search it out, give the final push on your own terms.

Shawn, as intuitive as ever, reads the familiar desperation on your face and gives in quickly, fingers leaving your hip to brace you by the thigh instead. “Come on, honey — give it to me.”

The encouragement strikes a chord, something in the naughtiest parts of your mind, and you’re off, shifting your weight over the cushions to meet every stroke of his fingers. Shawn moans as loud as you do at the uptick in speed, eyes lidding at how good you look, how good you are. Your need is contagious and he’s rubbing your clit faster to meet the pace you’ve set, breathing heavy as though he, too, is almost there.

Your orgasm doesn’t take long after that; a blindingly intense sensation that ripples from your head to the soles of your feet and has your fingers so twisted in the cushions that you leave them wrinkled. Wanting to be close, Shawn moves to find your mouth, dropping a couple sloppy kisses between soft nothings and encouragements: “That’s it… that’s it..."

By the time you catch your breath and let your eyes re-open, Shawn’s sat back up, his fingers still squarely inside you. When he sees he has your attention, though, he grins, moving them to his mouth to drag his tongue over and between them. Your stomach does flips at that, but you press the already re-emerging urges aside to tug him down for another kiss. “You really are such a tease,” you mutter with a nip at his lip. Tasting yourself on him is a bit odd some times; but others, like now, it’s electrifying, lighting something in you that just wants him closer.

That desire has you reaching a hand for his lap, pride rising when you feel how hard he is in his swim shorts. He makes a sound when he feels your palm, guttural in the back of his throat; but, before you can get very far, he regains his senses and reaches to stop you, much to your chagrin. “Nn, not yet... let me just kiss you for a little.”

You could melt right then and there - but Shawn doesn’t give you time to when he fits both hands under you and tugs you the rest of the way onto his lap. You settle with your legs swinging and his cock pressed against your bare ass, and he tips his head up to find your mouth again. Anticipation’s already rising, turning in your tummy like butterflies. But, this time, there’s no rush — no adolescent neediness steering the ship. It’s like the island’s energy has made its way into even this, leaving your kisses languid and heady.

It keeps Shawn at bay for at least a little while, his focus on kissing every inch of you instead of the ache in his lower half. Your bikini top’s shifted quite a bit since earlier and with the new position, it finally finds its way off, his fingers brushing your skin as they work. When the fabric falls to the ground, he pauses to appreciate you, lips pursed in a hum, before his attention falls to the skin along your neck. The kisses are light at first; but the lower he goes, the more teethy they get and before long, he’s sucking as hard as he needs to leave little marks all over you.

“Heeey,” you pant, fingers landing on the nape of his neck to disappear in the hair there, “people will see those.”

Lidded eyes find you through his curls, a hand patting your bum to a beat only he hears. “I know — ’s the whole point.” He places another kiss for good measure, prompting an endeared eye roll and a mental note to return the favor later. For now, he’s off the hook, especially with his mouth reaching your breasts too quickly for you to focus on anything else. The fingers at his nape tighten, and you give a strong tug as he wraps lips around one of your nipples. It’s all tongue to start, but Shawn gets eager fast and teeth graze your skin once or twice before he finally commits to a little nip. When you gasp, he chuckles, amused with himself even as he soothes the sting with another lap of his tongue.

This little game goes on for a bit longer, Shawn nibbling wherever he can reach and getting more lost in you by the second. “Why don’t we stay here forever,” he mutters eventually, breath fanning out over your skin. It’s much warmer than the sun had been and you turn into the closeness easily, arousal swelling in every part of you. “Could buy you this house, marry you, give you some pretty little babies...”

You both know there’s no way you could stay, but the fantasy is nice to entertain, fun to flirt with. You keep it going with the fingers in his hair guiding his face to yours until your noses are bumping lightly. “Think we could get started with at least one of those things...”

You’re going for subtle, but Shawn’s immediately catching on, a needy groan rising out of him at the thought of what you’re offering. “Yeah..?”

“Mm... yeah.” There’s a shift of your hips then, calculated to rock your ass back against the bulge in his shorts. You only manage it a second time before Shawn surges forward, falling headlong into this, into you with a sigh. His hand comes up to the small of your back to help lay you onto the couch; and once you’re settled, legs parted for him again, he’s between them, shorts partly off his hips as he fits his mouth over yours.

You kiss him back with the same fervor, fumbling to get his shorts the rest of the way off. You only manage to get them as far as mid-thigh, but when you feel his cock against your hip, you decide that’s good enough, and your hands move, instead, to tug him in by his sides.

“Still feel ok, baby?” The words are muffled against your jaw, where he's sponging kisses all over as he settles in over you. “I can...” He finishes the question with fingers teasing between your folds, a quick, suggestive touch.

The contact is overwhelming, deliciously so, but you still manage to refuse him — there’s something else you want much more. “No, no, just...want you.”

It’s hard to tell if it’s the lust in your tone or the heat behind your eyes when you say it — maybe even a combination of the two — but something about your confession flips a switch in him. All at once, Shawn’s positioning you with one hand and pumping himself with the other, a sharp exhale as he drops his hips and presses forward.

Your hands tighten on him when you feel his tip against your inner thigh, and it’s all you can do not to rush him. The anticipation had felt exciting before, but now it’s almost exhausting, reducing you to impatient squirms the longer it takes for him to be inside you. Shawn, as always, feels it as much as you do and lets his hand between you guide him until he can fill you up.

He bottoms out almost instantly, and the sensation of being stretched - or in his case, squeezed - so fast takes your breaths away. Up to now, he’s been supporting himself with a hand near the side of your head and fingers curled into the cushion. But, when Shawn’s head starts swimming from how hot you are around him, he can’t help but fall forward, arms bent at the elbow to let him press his weight into you.

It’s nothing you can’t handle, though. In fact, you love it when he’s so close; it lets you feel him deeper, harder and your arms find a place around his neck, bracing you for what’s to come.

“Fuck, baby,” he lets out against your skin as he takes his first proper thrust. The movement’s careful, almost tentative, but that doesn’t stop him from filling you to the hilt and earning a quiet whimper. There’s a brief pause - long enough to guide your legs around him and angle your hips - before he’s taking another long thrust, shivering on top of you. He’d wanted this to be slow, a complement to your week in this easy paradise. But, he’s too far gone for that now — the moment he can tell that you’re adjusted and ready, all self-control dissipates, leaving nothing but a Shawn that’s desperate for everything you’ll give him.

His hand presses hard into the flesh at your waist as his thrusts become more pointed, hips snapping forward to send him deep into your core. You’d seen the change in pace coming, but that doesn’t keep you from crying out for him with nails dragging down over his back. The pain, while jarring, just winds him up more, a hiss against your throat that he muffles with a half-kiss.

“S-Shawn—“ You gasp out, head thrown back to give more access to your neck. It’s already sticky between you, the breeze no real match for the way your bodies are tangled and the temperature rising with every rock of his hips. This one is going to be sloppy —- and, if you have to guess by the tension building in your tummy, it won’t last long either.

Not that Shawn is faring much better. You can’t see much of his face with his head tucked against you, but you know that hitch in his breath by heart. He’s not completely close, but is getting there fast, and the build-up has his thrusts growing more and more haphazard. “Hon, I can't—“ he cuts off in a moan, the words strangled in the back of his throat by how good you’re making him feel. It takes him a moment to try again, sucking in quick breaths until he’s coherent. “Wanna cum—“

You nod quickly to acknowledge it, squeezing your legs at his hips as if to keep him from moving away. “I-inside me... don’t forget —“

He groans loud at the reminder — as if he could. As if there’s anything he wants more right now than to fill you up and watch the way you keen when he does. Just thinking about it does a number on him and you can tell that he’s on the brink when his thrusts get messy.

There’s no way he’s leaving you behind, though, and his fingers find your clit the second he knows he’s near his limit. They work over the nub fast and hard to match his thrusts and you arch to press closer to him, eyes rolling back from the flood of pleasure. “O-oh god—“

Shawn is just as reverent, teeth sinking into your shoulder as one last thrust has climax bowling him over. He whines out your name, fingers stuttering -- but not stilling -- over your clit; not even when his hips press down to spill everything he has inside you. Your peak, then, doesn't take much longer, more intense than the first and twice as good when you can feel him cumming too.

You’re both hungry until the very end of it, nails and mouths over any inch of skin they can get to as you ride out your orgasms. You wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up with marks a little earlier than you intended, and by the looks of his face when he catches his breath enough to look at you --- and every place he’s been --- he may be expecting the same.

Coming down in comparison is gentle and tender; marked by little kisses from a clearer-headed Shawn who's worried he might've hurt you. But, when he sees you beaming up at him, love glinting in your eyes like the sun, he starts to calm and runs hands over your sides with a smile to rival yours.

He never forgets how much he loves you, but he's always reminded in moments like this; in the private little pockets of time ( in stadiums, on flights, and even after making love ) that the two of you just exist.

He really could stay here forever.

taglist (perm + fic): @sinplisticshawn / @heyits-claire / @honestey / @justanotherfangurl272 / @dylshoney / @softmndes / @bolognashawn / @unwrittendestiny / @shes-soparticular / @mendescurl / @mndes / @shhhawnmendes / @someoneunimportantxx

#shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes blurbs #shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fiction

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timetoresurface · 5 years

Text

EXCHANGE (7) / JJK

to give something and receive something of the same kind in return

Note: First of all I want to thank @rumpucis for always liking and just being enthusiastic whenever I update. Second thing I want to talk about is my upcoming holiday to Greece. I will be gone from tonight until the 31st of May and I’m not taking my laptop on this well deserved trip. I really want to read books again instead of writing and struggling with my own fan fiction stories. Don’t get me wrong, I love writing but it takes up a lot of my time (I work full time and have a lot of social obligations) so I will reward myself with a little writers break while I’m tanning and swimming the salty sea of Kos. Don’t worry, I'll be back with more as I know what I want to write next for a change.

Pairing: reader x Jungkook

Genre: romance, non idol AU

Warnings: none

Word count: 2560 words

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / PART 5 / PART 6

Summary: Yes, you are an exchange student. You noticed EF also organized trips to Seoul and you wanted something different than the same five people in your hometown. You came to the beautiful city to learn and relax, most definitely not to fall in live with one of the teachers. Definitely not the young extracurricular teacher who seemed to be good at everything.

*Y/N = your name *Y/C = your city/country

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The morning is as assured as the tides and just as unstoppable. You need a few more hours of blackness. Not to sleep, but to prepare, to reorganize your thoughts and to make sense of the events of last night. But already you can see the chaos that is your room, the dark outline of the dirty clothes on your dresser and the tall lamp you always trip over in the dark. Soon there will be color and traffic noises, the smell of other residents making coffee and toast and your roommate waking up.

You don’t understand why you’re nervous about meeting up with Jungkook. You had already spend a great time hanging out with him solo. You had already kissed and felt a little too much of each other. Still, you were a nervous wreck about today’s activities. You both agreed to spend the day together walking through Seoul after barely five hours of sleep. You had tried to hide the bags under your eyes but failed miserably. Sunglasses will have to do today.

A soft knock on your door surprised you and you almost woke up your roommate by tripping over the tall lamp. Silently a curse escaped your lips while you tried to find everything you needed. Your little bag was already filled with more than you needed but you still wanted to take your camera with you.

There was another knock on your door and you instantly found the camera you were looking for. You were shocked he was perfectly on time as he looked like a young man who really needed his sleep.

“Hi Jungkook!” You answered his continuing knocking on your door. His cheeks were turning red but you simply ignored his cuteness and locked your door.

“I wasn’t sure if you were awake because there was no sound whatsoever.” He awkwardly shifted his leg.

“I was trying to keep the noise down so I wouldn’t wake up my sleeping roommate.” You tried to explain to him in a whisper.

“That sounds reasonable and also nice of you. Most people don’t care if they wake up their roommates in the early mornings.” He whispered back to you with a huge grin on his face.

“It is not that early though.”

“It is early enough to need coffee to be a normal functioning human being.” A coffee cup was put in your hand and you gladly accepted his offer.

“Thanks for the coffee. This will be a huge life saver today.” You tried to take a sip but it was still too hot to comfortably drink it.

“Is there any specific place you want to go too?” He asked you while holding his cup in between his both hands, enjoying the warmth it brought him.

“Not really, I want to see everything if that is possible?” You might have a file on your phone of everything you wanted to do and see in Seoul. But it would be more fun if Jungkook showed you his favorite places, you thought. Or maybe explore some new places for the both of you. All was good.

“We’ll need more days though.” His laugh was still as contagious as yesterday and as the day before. His spell wasn’t going to be wearing off anytime soon.

“I’m staying for another three weeks so we’ll have more days.” It might have sounded like a lighthearted comment but your heart wasn’t too happy with this fact. Jungkook took a sip form his coffeecup while hiding his face from you. He might feel the same. Three weeks is really nothing if you’re spending it with someone you’re going to leave behind. Why waste time when it is going to end into a hundred broken pieces.

“What are we waiting for? Seoul is waiting for me.�� You tried to lighten the mood again and held out your hand to him. Jungkook gladly accepted your offer and that’s kind of how it started. His hand was going to be there for the rest of the day, leading you to touristic places and guiding you through his favorite neighborhoods.

After a few hours of walking and taking pictures, you both halted to get some ice cream. The weather was exceptionally good today so he took you to the river where he knew a great spot for ice cream eating. The only spot where you were allowed to eat the cold dessert, or at least according to him. Ice cream should always be combined with a great view otherwise the taste just wouldn’t be the same.

His fingers were rubbing circles into your hand while he was talking to the person selling ice cream. You were surprised he kept rubbing and acknowledging your hand while he was in such a crowded place. You didn’t notice at first, but everyone kept staring at your intertwined hands. As if a European girl was not allowed to touch a Korean boy. As if you were the strangest and most discussing combination there was.

“Here you go. Chocolate and raspberry as requested.” You quickly licked the ice-cream to right it, it had begun to slump precariously to one side and there was nothing worse than loosing an entire scoop to the dirty sidewalk. You followed Jungkook to his favorite spot and you couldn’t help but to admire his perfectly defined back. His t-shirt was a bit too big but it didn’t hide his muscles. The sudden urge to go and touch him was hard to ignore but you did. You had enough of everyone’s staring eyes, so you simply behaved yourself, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t look.

In your daydream a drop of raspberry made it onto your t-shirt, with a finger you scooped it up. You frowned momentarily at the pink stain before spying Jungkook struggling as much as you did. A laugh escaped your lips and he pinned around with a confused look on his face. The giggle built up inside you like so much water behind a dam, making your shoulders shake and your belly hurt. When it erupted from your mouth it sounded more like a braying donkey as you fought to breathe and stifle the tears.

It seemed that Jungkook was also under some kind of spell. Whenever you laughed he had to laugh too and he didn’t even try to hide it. His eyes remained on yours so he hadn’t even noticed the stain on your t-shirt. He didn’t even acknowledge the chocolate stain on his own t-shirt. While giggling you tried to scoop up the ice cream he had dropped onto himself and this finally got his attention away from you.

“Oh this is embarrassing.” He finally said after trying to get rid of the stain.

“Jungkook, look at me.” You tried to get his attention back. His head shot up and looked up at you. It took him a while but he finally realized why you had laughed so hard minutes before. The giggles rolled out of him like the waves on a long shallow beach. They seemed to disappear for a while only to build up and break to the surface once more.

“You’re as much of a mess as I am.” You said with heart eyes aimed at him.

“That’s why I like you, I think.” His sudden confession made the both of you look a way from each other. As if eye contact was going to make this moment more intimate than what you both were ready for.

“Jungkook, I …-“ you tried to start but he was quick to interrupt you.

“I know, just friends right? I realize you’re leaving in three weeks, but I can still like you.” His hand cupped your face and you immediately relaxed to his touch. You hadn’t realized how much you had missed the feeling of his hand on your face, or for that matter anywhere else. All you wanted him to do was touch you and hold you, but that wasn’t really possible.

“Just friends who accidentally kissed all night.” You said with cheeks as pink as the blooming cherry blossoms in the background.

“If you want to pretend nothing happened, I’ll agree because I respect your opinion and feelings. But otherwise, I really wouldn’t mind kissing you again and again.” His hand left your face and you already missed the warmth even though it was scorching hot in the afternoon sun.

“Aren’t your lips still swollen from yesterday, maybe you need to have a day off of kissing foreign students.” You felt like teasing him. You wanted to test him if he really wanted to kiss him again so you took a step closer over to him. Your face only a breath away from each other.

“I kissed one and she’s only here for a couple of weeks so I really won’t like a day off.” His hand stroked the side of your arm leaving a trail of goosebumps.

“Everyone’s staring, Jungkook.” You finally snapped after taking a step back. Were you were from nobody really seemed to care if two people were a bit more relaxed with each other, but here in busy Seoul everyone were sending you judging looks. Maybe it was because you weren’t Korean, or maybe it was because you two were a bit too intimate to their liking.

“Since when do you do things waiting for someones approval.” His eyes were dark and needy and it took all of you to not just jump onto him and kiss his perfectly swollen lips. Because of the alcohol last night you don’t exactly remember how he tasted, how he touched your body while keeping his tongue in your mouth. You so badly wanted to do it all over again to savor his flavor and keep it locked in your mind for the rest of your life. But you couldn’t do that. If you kissed him one more time you knew you would be hooked, and you were trying to avoid having feelings for him that were too deep.

“You don’t know me that well, Kookie. I don’t know if you like me or the idea of me being foreign and therefore more exciting? Or isn’t that what young Koreans think of us?” You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you wanted to have a fight with him, but is suddenly was there and it wasn’t anything you could ignore.

“That’s not what I …-“ Jungkook tried to explain but this time you were ready to interrupt.

“Maybe that’s why everything is going so fast because you know I’m leaving in three weeks. What is it that you want? Some adventure? Because I can not give you what you’re looking for.” You tried to keep your voice down as you both already got too much attention from the locals and tourists.

“Y/N please no, that’s not what I want.” He tried to start but you already turned around and threw your melted ice cream in the nearest garbage can. The moment you entered the never-ending and never stopping crowd he lost sight of you.

There was no logical explanation for your actions. The only thing you could think of was for the both of you to stop interacting so you could get over him before leaving. Maybe it was an internal safety mechanism trying to save you from heartbreak, but in this moment you weren’t really sure if it had saved you or caused you more pain.

“Y/N? Are you inside? Can I come in? Are you dressed?” Alfie screamed from the other side of your door. You quietly got out of bed and opened the door for him.

“What do you want?” You grunted.

“Hangover?”

“Not really but something like that.” You weren’t in the mood to explain things to Alfie.

“Love?”

“Definitely not that.” You said a bit too fast which made him realize it most definitely had to do something with Jungkook. His eyes showed a kindness you were really craving at the moment, that certain kindness of a best friend.

“You know I’m not really allowed to be in your room. Let’s go outside and catch the last remaining rays of sunshine.” With a simple nod of your head the both of you exited your room. There was only one remote spot for the two of you to silently discuss anything without being eavesdropped.

“So what’s going on Y/N? What has Jungkook done?” In this moment you were grateful to have a friend like Alfie when everything seemed to go a bit wrong today.

“He didn’t really do anything, I did something.” And that’s how you started to explain the situation. You mentioned the secret hang outs you had previously kept a secret from him. You expressed him your feelings for the Korean boy who stole the hearts of every girl on campus, including your apparently which made you act like a lunatic. You told him about today and how you suddenly exploded and left Jungkook in the middle of Seoul, right at one of his favorite spots to make everything worse.

Alfie listened and hadn’t said a thing which made you realize he was probably taking Jungkook’s side. Of course he did, who wouldn’t?

“It seems like you tried to help yourself but actually made everything worse for everyone. You exploding on him made you realize you kind of fancy him and now you’re here with me instead of kissing the boy you want to kiss.” He carefully selected his words, trying to calm the mess that you were.

“I don’t think he would let me kiss him again. What kind of weirdo am I? He should run from me if he’s smart.” You dropped your head in both your hands and immediately hated the dramatics but these were dramatic times.

“Stop acting like everything is ruined. Just go up to the boy and apologize. If he really likes you, and it seems like he really does, he would instantly forgive you and kiss your pouting mouth.” He did make a lot of sense and the wheels in your head started to come up with a plan.

“I’m saying you need to move now! Go to his place, which you apparently know the location of, and talk to the guy. He has shown you nothing but respect.” He lifted you up your feet but you weren’t ready to go yet.

“is this smart?” He looked taken aback by your question but quickly composed himself again.

“You might work things out but you’re not there yet. Enjoy life and enjoy the body of the man you have the biggest crush on.” His words were the perfect motivation to move from your frozen insecure state toward Jungkook’s place. You hadn’t practiced what you wanted to say. You also hadn’t really thought this through but you were in front of his place and couldn’t move. You couldn’t knock and you couldn’t go back to your room.

After a couple of minutes you finally knocked on his door and it immediately opened with a tired Jungkook holding the door. You couldn’t help but to feel responsible for the mess that was in front of you. There were no smiles or blushes, only you awkwardly shifting your weight from one leg to the other. How the heck do you start this conversation?

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