#and youre doing to thirst for him in your twenties | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sytoran · 21 days

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home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting

word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

*****

In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.

After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.

“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.

“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries.

“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.

Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile.

The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.

“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.

Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.

“Oy, lovebirds!”

At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.

Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas.

Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.

“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.

“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila.

Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.

“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him.

Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically.

Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”

Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells.

“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —

And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie.

The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.

A quiet hush falls.

Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.

“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”

*****

As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly.

Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair.

“You ready to ride the waves, bub?”

“Yeah! I’m ready!”

Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.

Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art.

Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?

“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.

You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily.

When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.

Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.

“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”

“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”

“There goes my heterosexuality.”

You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.

“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?”

You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.

But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.

“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.”

It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.

“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”

Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.

Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.

Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.

“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.

The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.

“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair.

You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.

“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.

You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.

“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts.

The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.

“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.

Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.

It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.

Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely.

Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.

“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.

You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.

Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly.

“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”

Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.

You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”

Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.

*****

“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.

You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”

Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.

Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.

As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.

You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.

As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.

The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot.

Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.

You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.

“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.

“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.

“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.

You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from.

“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest.

“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness.

Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.

In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.

“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.

“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.

In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—

“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air.

But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.

You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)

“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.

“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.

“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.

Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response.

*****

Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting.

And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.

You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.

Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.

“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you.

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.

The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself.

The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.

“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.

Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.

“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.

“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.

You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.

“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.

Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.

“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.

“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.

“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure.

Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.

It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.

Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes.

Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.

You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.

Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.

Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange.

With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.

“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”

Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”

“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”

*****

and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!

reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

#⋆⭒˚｡★ home is where the heart is #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader smut #wlw smut #gxg smut #marvel smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha x reader smut #top reader #sub natasha romanoff #dom reader #bottom natasha romanoff #butch4femme #butch reader #femme4butch

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monstas1ut · 11 days

Text

Grown

NAMAMI KENTO x black!reader

Summary

__ black!reader is ravaged, stretched, and disciplined by her older side piece, Nanami Kento. there's no more "trying to work things out" with her boyfriend. not when this older, experienced man is fucking her raw.

Contains

__ size difference, thick reader, reader is cheating, impreg, raw dogging it, nanami smokes, oral fixation, sucking dick heavily, daddy <3, lots of teasing, almost caught

__ brown skin can be dark, light, medium color..whatever. brown is brown.. and it's gorgeous

__ a/n : not truly proof read(which means not really read by me a thousand times before posting. Sorry for any mistakes lol

Patience was a word that originated with the businessman well. There were many things that failed in his life, and yet patience is what drove him to success. It was a mere moral that he went by ever since that day. However, a sudden surge of intensity flowed through him like electricity. It began to nag at him every day, and it scratched at his insides.

It was an itch he somehow couldn’t reach.

It appeared overnight, and the itch would mentally drain him. He knew full well what the issue was, but saying it or admitting it would be his downfall. Everyday he’s tried to forget, shun, and or cause the thoughts to disappear. But he was losing patience with himself. It was hilarious really, but the funniest thing about it was that the root cause of all of this was… pussy.

As blunt and as pathetic as it sounded, the blonde knew all well that this was about pussy.

And this wasn’t any regular pussy.

It wasn’t just pussy.

It was your pussy.

The purest gold between your legs caused Nanami Kento to lose patience. Let’s not get it wrong, he knew he could have it on a silver platter. Nanami knew he could have it at his front door. The man knew he could have it on his balcony. But you were playing around a bit too much for him to snag you right back in. You’ve ignored his calls, avoided his messages, and you’ve surely blocked him from your socials. But this was all a facade and Nanami knew it.

You think a man as smart as him would fall for such nonsense? A few weeks ago you were just beneath him, begging, sobbing, and using that dreamy pussy to quench his thirst. You had no problem parting your legs for him, and you had little to no problem conjuring up a sore throat from giving him brain in his Rolls Royce.

That little boy who was your so-called “boyfriend” was surely the problem. And although you were in your twenties, and your boyfriend also happened to be the same age, Nanami was older. The experience flowed from him like water, and it showed in the ways he’d treat you. That boyfriend of yours was the problem. He showed little to no care towards you, and he’s the one who shacked up with another woman first. You just happened to retaliate a bit better. However you’ve now gotten back with him, and stopped contact with Nanami. That’s what was peeling at him day and night.

But the blonde was tired of games. It was all childish to him, and he’s a grown man with a grown ass dick, he has no time to waste. This was evident whilst he blew out the smoke from his cigar. The night was quiet and only the sound of a lame sitcom show in the background was able to be heard. The tv light glossed over Nanami’s large, weighty hand as it laid on your head. And the sloppy saliva and pre cum surrounded the base of his pole of a cock. The cigar in his hand was laid in the tray on the table near the couch, and he fully relaxed in his position.

“That seems better… Do you not miss it in your throat..?”

There was much tease behind each word, and frankly a load of annoyance. Nanami could contain his emotions well, but with the way he began gripping at your well glued frontal, you knew he was utterly pissed. His fist was full of body wave curls, and you were filled with his girthy cock. It was wrong, yes, but when he invited himself inside of your home and demanded answers, it came to this. There was no answer, you missed this. You wanted this.

You truly needed this.

“Tell me.” With the assertive tone that slipped from his lips, you stared up into his eyes, finally able to breathe as he pulled you off his drenched cock.

“Yes… I m-missed this big dick in my throat daddy..” you practically choked this out with a sob as your throat already felt the raspy tingles. Your lower face was covered in saliva and it was dripping from your chin. Nanami enjoyed seeing that, however he wanted to mess you up. He needed you to be absolutely helpless after this, so helpless and needy that it would be obvious that you got some dick.

“I would like to believe it.”

“I did!….I really really did..” you whined, knowing you sounded far from bratty, even though that was your frame. You were sassy, confident, and sometimes even bitchy, but here you were using your pretty plump lips to drain his cock as best as you could. Your hands were near the base of his cock as you twisted them lightly. Your head bobbed up and down and in a slight circle as your eyes gently rolled. There was something about sucking this man’s dick that made your pussy so profusely wet. You just enjoyed making it sloppy, and you also enjoyed when he’d moan.

Your soft gags are what gives nanami a surge of energy, it gives him a surge of dominance as he lets his head fall back on the back rest of the couch. He could feel one of your hands disappear and it be replaced with the feeling of your tight throat. You were going deeper and deeper just for him, and your throat could barely take it.

All he did was come here to your home for answers, it surely ended up in an argument, but then ended up in a different type of fight.. Now he was about to leave as a soon to be father because he just knew you were about to be knocked up. It was inevitable.

“Shit…” Nanami bit down, baring his teeth behind his lips as he looked down at your messy face. You drooled on his cock before quickly moving your hands up and down his cock. Your pretty brown breasts jiggled underneath your tank top as you did so, entertaining the male just as much as your pink, duck shaped acrylics that decorated his cock.

“Put it back in for me” Nanami’s voice was still stern, it always was, there was always authority running through it. It caused you to not think twice about anything, so of course you put his cock right back in your now slightly, sore throat.

“You listen to everything I say because you are so cock driven, so blank from the pleasure. Even if I demanded your body in front of your little boyfriend you’d still do it.. now wouldn’t you?”

No response, only your whimpers and half nods gave him his answer as you were drowning in the sexiest cock ever. The veins, the pink tip, the large filled balls that were hanging low from the audacity he held. This was no regular man, this was a grown man with only purpose.

His aura was far from plain, it gave off such strong power and confidence in his ability. This is what will cause a bratty girl to fall into the deep end, a grown man. A grown man with a certified big dick, and you could take it. This is why the blonde needed you. Pretty, confident, yet eager to become submissive towards him and him only. No woman would suck dick like this if they didn’t feel submissive.

The way you slurped it, the way you rubbed it on your cheeks before slipping it back in your mouth. Nanami enjoyed it so much that he felt himself slipping into a peak of excitement.

“You must crave my cum with the way you are acting, dear.” The man actually smirked at your state. He enjoyed seeing you this way. Your energy towards other men was a dominant force, hard to get, and more of a ‘hot girl’ as one would call it. It was quite funny when he’d look back on it, especially now.

His veiny hands, filled with pure strength, pulled gently at his tie. He slipped it off and began to undo his buttons on his blue dress shirt. One thing led to another in such simple fashion, and the older man pulled you from his cock, watching the saliva drip and string from your bottom lip. You looked all helpless and adorable… especially messy.

“I will give you what we both need. How’s that sound?” Nanami seemed genuine, and there was a part of him that truly was. But you doubted him the moment he clenched your hair again, his face moving down to hum in your ear.. “hm…?”

Swallowing the underlying fear of how sore your throat will be, you also felt how drenched you were becoming. “Yes sir…” you whispered, watching him move and straighten his posture as he stood before he gripped the base of his cock with his other hand.

You could see every detail of this man, and in this moment before he shoved his hard cock in your mouth, you could see that slight smirk at the corner of his mouth. His glasses were discarded before all of this even occurred, so you could fully see how his eyes even spoke of command. His blonde hair was intact, barely a hair out of place. His skin was airbrushed yet as well as having the sharpest jawline you’ve ever come across.

And this man adored you. He adored those sweet lips and he adored the brown sugary skin that would rub against him. He was far from using you, he was pouring into you. And with the way his cock was now thrusting into your throat, you knew that physically he was soon about to pour into you.

“Your little boyfriend will be coming soon is he not..? A shame that he’ll see you’ve craved my cock again. Maybe this will teach him to be a bit more faithful…” Nanami spoke in a matter of fact type of tone, fairly nonchalant as he watched the tears fall down your face from gagging on his third leg. You could feel it twitch and become harder right then, and you knew he was close to his peak… all of the pleasure you’d given him before hand really riled him up.

“And Maybe this will teach you to listen to me a little more” he actually grumbled that part as his hips moved back and forth, only gripping at your hair tighter to keep you in place. He couldn’t speak much longer without letting out a moan or a breath of air. He would give out firm groans, as well as deep breaths as he watched your pretty eyes roll back. That’s what did it.

It was as if a balloon popped in your mouth. The sudden, thick substance practically coated the back of your tongue, threatening to side down your throat. That’s before he pulled you off and let the rest of his salty sperm fall right on your gorgeous, brown, sun kissed face.

The sexiest thing about it was how willing and how far you’d let him go. His white, thick cum was mainly around your lips, but yet fell on your soft, fluffy eyelash extensions.

A little shaky sigh came from Nanami before he fully composed himself. The wave of pleasure was still passing over him, but he needed to release the rest of the energy you’ve given him. Ever since that nagging feeling hit him over the head, it’s felt like he’s been edging himself this entire time. He didn’t need to do that anymore, not when such a pretty, thick doll was in his possession.

“I think we both realize that I cannot just let you go. Your boyfriend may have had you back, but only for a bit of time. You’ve always known where home was… So come back to me..” nanami effortlessly picked you up from the floor, only fluttering your heart more as you were spoken to in such a dreamy manner. Your back gently touched the couch cushions, and you could truly see how much larger this man was towards you. His muscles ranged. They were large, thick, and far from simple. Each vein was quite prominent and it looked like you could cut them with a piece of paper.

“I won’t ask again, I will only do. And as far as I can recall, you enjoy being taken.”

What you hated was that the older man was correct. His ways of disciplining you, taking and fucking you were the first things you could think of in the morning, even while your boyfriend would be next to you. It was naughty, but it was the truth. That’s why you slowly nodded your head to his words, parting your lips.

“M’sorry…”

“Yes… Yes we both understand that. However, I’d rather see actions than hear words…”

Nanami teased, making sure to make you feel every emotion about this situation. Worry, disappointment, arousal, anger, submission. There were things you couldn’t explain but if you could explain this in one word it would be : ‘control’. Nanami was out of control, yet in control of everything he touched, especially you.

It was obvious in the way you slowly parted your legs, revealing your unfathomable vulnerability. The largest damp spot between your legs, it seeped through the thin, gray shorts that you wore to bed. Sucking Nanami’s cock was enough to do that, and he knew it. He could tell you enjoyed it very much.

“Good girl, lovely job. Actions speak louder than words do they not?”

While speaking such naughty words, the male let his head slowly fall in between your legs. The heat from your gentle pussy caressed him before he kissed the wet spot. “Usually I’d be gentle with you when you’re fairly good… but you’ve caused me to have the most intense lack of sleep.” Nanami huskily whispered as he trailed his rough hands up and down your juicy thigh. There was almost a soft smile on Nanami’s face as he could remember the times you have been good per say.

But today? His smile disappeared ever so slightly, and he gripped your legs before licking his lips. “Turn over.” He demanded as he helped you slide and turn to being on your knees. Those thin grey shorts rode up between your crack, so there’s no way nanami was going to rip them off, that was just extra time. What was better was him sliding them to the side. The soft smell intoxicated him as well..

“Good…” Nanami spoke like silk when he said this to you, and you felt like a feline in heat. All you saw was regret in your future, but you were still here with a nicely arched back. Your ass was large and it had Nanami flustered beyond belief every time he got to see it in its full glory. It was quite obvious how he felt about it, considering that’s the first thing he grabs when sliding in.

Nanami unfortunately didn’t have any remorse for you, and you were quite wet anyway. It’s not that you were being treated like a whore, he was simply treating you like his whore. There was a distinct difference.

And the second that fat, pink tip slipped past your dark lips and into your gushy pussy, you understood. Nothing came close to the feeling of him sliding in with ease, like a puzzle piece. He molded your pussy with his cock plenty of times, and that’s why it fell into place. Of course you were his whore, you were his only whore, that’s why he couldn’t let you go.

“Fits just right, I highly doubt he can fill my spot. You’ve had me for too long, y/n…” of course he had to tease you about it, his hands softly running around your hips and your ass. His thumb hooked on your shorts, holding them to the side so he could make sure to see that pretty pussy even more as he gently began to move his hips. This made him bury into you even more, and that made you want to tap out right then.

“N-..Nanami… ooh fuck~” you whispered this, and he could still hear you. And with his other hand on your lower back, he knew you were just losing it. The wetness from you coated his cock well, and it made it so slick that he slipped out. To be fair it surprised him a little, he’s a large man, and to squeeze and slip him out like that?

Oh you were undoubtedly wet.

“Put it back in, show me how badly you want it, love” there was a sweet softness to his words, and it was far from teasing this go around. He however, awaited you to do exactly what he asked of you. Luckily things didn’t have to get rowdy because you happily followed through with grabbing his pulsing cock. It throbbed, feeling like it almost had a heart beat before you slipped it back in easily.

The feeling was too strong and difficult to simply explain. The way elevator doors opened, the way water splashed through a river, both of those things mixed together explained the sensation at hand. And with each gasp, you felt yourself losing the thoughts completely.

That large pole began digging into you while you felt your mind slip. Nanami could see it in your body movements and the way you tried to release the arch in your back. However, he pushed the hand he had on your back, down. While arched even more, your pussy juices dripped onto the couch. Nanami enjoyed feeling every inch of your hole, as well as the lustful liquids you produced. Wearing a condom was far from what he wanted, and of course you wanted nothing to do with one either. Careless, yes… but he’s already established that he has to trap you some way or another.

This was a mission to knock you up. Nanami hadn’t thought about it until now. He’s completely changed his tune from annoyed to devious. As a grown man, sure he dislikes playing games but playing with you seemed to be the funnest thing he’s been a part of.

He was fucking a pretty babe with an ass so fat that it was as if it was hypnotizing him. The way it recoiled and jiggled for seconds later whenever it hit his pelvis. Or, when he’s pounding in it and it claps against him. Your back shots sounded like heavy office doors slamming, and that was quite loud. That mixed with the pleasant, precious sounds that released from you was golden.

“Daddy!… oh fuck-.. oh fuck daddy stop.. t-too much.. too much of that big fuckin’ dick~!” There was a soft lingering scream coming from you after you tried to talk through those moans. You could feel your insides clenched around that length of his, and you were so tight you didn’t even want to let him continue.

Nanami couldn’t have that, no. His hand forced your shorts fully to the side, stretching them with popping noises making it clear that he’s stretched them out. While doing that, his hands moved like butter to your waist and he leaned forward just a tad. But yet the way he hovered over you, it felt like you were being overtaken. Your chest was on the cushions, but your stomach was hovering. Your ass was perfectly high and your arch was a god’s gift.

“We can’t have that… open up for me.” Nanami sounded almost animalistic when asking you to open up. He wanted you to relax and simply take his cock till he cums. And you knew he wasn’t going to stop until then, which was obvious since he began to thrust more at a downward angle.

This angle was quite the difference, quite the contrast from before. This man was hitting a completely different part of your pussy, and he knew this. His smirk hesitated but stayed once you gripped and slightly tore at your soft couch. “please!?… please~?.. shit!” You breathed in sharply through your teeth, your pretty, glossy eyes rolling back with pleasure.

You were so consumed in the sex that you could barely hear any noise outside. There was a non literal window to the outside world and you were stuck being ripped in two by grown dick. The blonde man had his ways, and he was so physically and mentally powerful that he caused you to blatantly ignore the ringing of your phone and the firm knocks on the door.

It wasn’t rocket science to figure out who that was, and yet you couldn’t care. There were bigger things to worry about. Bigger, thicker and sexier things. Nanami happened to be just that, and he had your full attention and your full body.

“Your little boyfriend has arrived…” Nanami grinned this in your ear, and yet you spoke out something you thought you’d never say. The dick felt so good that you lost yourself for a while.

“I don’t care-.. fuck- I don’t fucking care daddy..”

“J-Just keep beatin’ my pussy up~” you slurred, moving your hands to open your pretty cheeks, revealing the tight hole the pale cock was inside of. Something Nanami could never get tired of..

“You do not have to inform me of that… inform him how badly you want me to ‘beat it up’ when I open that door myself.”

#anime x black!reader #black reader #ambw #ambw bwam #smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu x reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #nanami kento #nanami x black!reader #nanami x black y/n

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xpao-bearx · 1 year

Text

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

SUMMARY: Steven Grant has come to the devastating conclusion that he was fated to be single forever. Marc didn't care for romance, Jake was only interested in one-night stands, and Steven was--well...Steven.

But when you started working alongside him at the museum's gift shop--a pretty girl younger than him with a bright smile and a cloying kindness he hasn't been the recipient of in a long time--he begins to think that maybe romance is in the cards for him.

Especially when you are just as awkward as him and sinfully lovely.

AKA "the man without love" falls for "the virgin".

RATING: 18+ minors please do NOT interact!!! This fic will contain romance, smut, and generally mature content (though not ALL parts will have explicit smut).

NOTES: I recently rewatched Moon Knight and have been in the mood to write my own fic after reading countless of amazing ones on here, then outta the blue Madonna's song Like A Virgin got stuck in my head and it got me thinking "Huh... This song is cute for Steven if he gets a girlfriend. ACTUALLY WAIT A DAMN MINUTE IT COULD FIT ALL THE MOON KNIGHT BOYS"

And so... Tada! Here's le result~ Although I'm still working out the details, this fic will have ✨️6 PARTS✨️ This fic will PROBABLY be quite self-indulgent, and at times the way the reader is written could be a bit similar to an OC. I'm so sorry if that is the case, but please understand that I'm writing this for fun and I'm just going with the flow!

Some things will also be different from the show. For example, all the boys are actually aware of each other in this fic. I try to stick as close as possible to the source material, but hey this is my fic and like I said I just wanna have fun 😂

Thank you sooo much and I sincerely hope you enjoy!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are STRONGLY encouraged and appreciated so please don't be a silent reader!

Now... Join me as I hopelessly thirst over this RIDICULOUSLY gorgeous man both in fiction AND reality \(^o^)/

Part 1: Didn't know how lost I was until I found you

Steven willed his legs to go faster, pushing through London's usual busy morning crowd and into the museum he was cursed to work at. Clutching his bag in one hand, and the other holding his small thermos of coffee as he prayed to any Egyptian god listening that Donna wouldn't catch him this time.

But, of course, the only Egyptian god within Steven's vicinity was Khonshu. And the old bird only cared about how his Moon Knight was upholding his duties as his "Fist of Vengeance", not of his Avatar's petty human responsibilities such as "keeping a job".

"Late again, eh, Stevie?" Donna's annoying voice mocked Steven, pausing in his tracks as he sighed deeply and begrudgingly turned towards his boss.

"Sorry, Donna." He shot the blonde a forced smile, his grip on his thermos tightening. "Got stuck in traffic. You know how it is, yeah?"

"I wouldn't because unlike you, Stevie, I'm never late." Donna returned his fake smile along with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, enough chatter. You've got someone working with you at the gift shop from now on. Maybe this way you won't be late, yeah? Teach her how to actually sell some bloody candy."

Steven opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly cut off when his new co-worker--you--stepped out from behind Donna. You were younger than him, around your twenties, and you were such a shy little thing with your head slightly ducked down. Your E/C eyes peeked out from behind the glasses framing your delicate features, long lashes fluttering as you flashed him a sweet smile. Your fingers fiddled nervously with the pink midi skirt you wore, matching the dainty pink ribbons that tied your H/C hair in two low pigtails.

Your smile faltered as your gaze met Steven's dark brown ones. He remained silent, mouth hanging agape as he stared at you as if you grew two heads. Your eyes lowered, heart threatening to burst right out of your poor chest.

Did you do something wrong? Maybe you should've ditched the ribbons, you looked ridiculous, right? Why was he staring at you? Oh, god, why was such a HOT guy staring at you?!

"Hello, uh, I'm Steven Grant." Your head snapped up, witnessing the twist of Steven's lips into a kind albeit awkward smile that accompanied a friendly little wave. "Steven..." He seemed to be rethinking his words before, ultimately, the dorky side of him won. "...with a V."

A smile once again bloomed across your face, feeling more at ease this time. "Hi, I'm Y/N L/N. With anxiety!" You chirped the latter a little too cheerfully, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you inwardly slapped yourself. No, punched yourself. "O-Oh, uh, I-I didn't mean that! I-I mean, no, it was just a joke--but a really BAD one, oh god--"

As you rambled nonsensically, Donna arched a judgmental brow at you before noticing the utterly smitten expression on Steven's face as he watched you with a huge goofy grin. Now both of Donna's eyebrows were raised to her hairline before she slowly backed away, leaving you two to fend for yourselves.

At least this time, though, Steven wouldn't be late anymore.

'She's so...'

'Weird.' Marc piped up in Steven's head.

'Amusing.' Jake snickered.

'...lovely.' Steven finished, eyes gleaming the same way it does for Egyptology as he continued to look at you as if you hung the moon in the sky.

He adored you instantly.

♡•••🌙•••♡

It's been two months since you started working at the museum's gift shop. During that time, you and Steven got closer. He discovered that you were a college dropout, reaching a stressful breaking point one day and deciding to just work for the meantime before figuring the rest of your life out. And as it turns out, you weren't so shy after all; once you were out your shell, you were just as big of a dork as Steven was and whenever you two were together, your shift passed by quickly--too quickly.

From the very first moment, you and Steven got along splendidly. He was a complete sweetheart and it always shattered your heart whenever Donna harassed him with any snarky and insensitive remarks.

Steven was used to it so he didn't mind it too much. What he wasn't used to, though, was you. You who was always so kind, lending a listening ear whenever he went on a passionate tangent regarding Egypt and even encouraging him on his dream of becoming the museum's tour guide. You who always graced him with a genuine smile that reached your ears, eyes sparkling whenever you see him as if he was your favourite art piece in the entire museum.

You who always made his heart race, palms sweaty, mind swirling without fail.

You had an intense crush on Steven--a longing, really--but what you didn't know was that he felt the same about you. But perhaps it was more than that. He practically worshipped the ground you walked on, and it certainly didn't miss Donna's unexpectedly sharp eyes. She'd tease him whenever you left earlier than him, looking like a kicked little puppy as his gaze trailed after you.

Today was no different as he stared helplessly at you, and it was a wonder you didn't feel the invisible daggers boring into you. There were only ten minutes left before you were done for the day and you both were stuck in inventory, but for once in his life he loved doing inventory and he desperately wished that this incredible moment with you, alone, would last forever.

'You're so fucking pathetic, ese.' Jake echoed in Steven's mind.

Nowadays Jake was becoming more vocal, at least when you're around. Marc, on the other hand, remained tight-lipped. The mercenary would much rather have absolutely nothing to do with you at all costs.

'Shut up, mate.' Steven silently argued, brows furrowing as his eyes finally broke away from you and focused on organizing some Taweret plushies.

'Only saying the truth, ese. You've got her all to yourself and the only thing you can think of is that you wish this time would last forever?' Jake scoffed. 'Be a man and step the fuck up. You know you want to, especially with the way she looks today.'

Steven's burning gaze was right back on you, eyes darkening slightly. He hated to admit it, but Jake was right. You were always so pretty, but something about today made you look that much more.

You always dressed modestly, but with the weather warming up lately you opted for a black pleated skirt that fell just above your knees and a tucked in short sleeved yellow blouse with the top few buttons undone exposing the tiniest bit of your cleavage. You also wore matching yellow heels that perfectly accentuated your legs and it made him feral.

"Steven? Are you okay?"

His eyes met yours and a smile instantly curled up his lips, nodding his head as if he wasn't just ogling you like a total perv. "Yes, I just zoned out. Sorry, love." Ugh, the way he called you 'love' so casually had you swooning.

If only he actually meant it.

You nodded back, shoving your thoughts away and returning his smile before glancing towards a portrait. "A shame what they did to this, huh?"

Steven curiously followed your line of sight, seeing a portrait of the Ennead.

"Whoever did this made a major blunder. Isn't the Ennead supposed to have nine gods, not seven?"

"YES!" You flinched slightly at Steven's exclamation, whipping your head towards him only to see him with the cutest blush ever.

"Erm, s-sorry, uh..." Steven cleared his throat, sheepishly running a hand through his unruly locks. "I just got excited. I'm surprised you knew that. Not a lot of people do--or care."

"Well, I happen to know a fantastic teacher always talking about Egyptology." You giggled, grinning at him. "And thanks to him, he's caused me to become interested in it myself and do my own research."

"Really?!" The way his eyes lit up felt as if an arrow was shot straight to your heart, and if you didn't have any self-control you would've dropped to your knees and asked--begged--this gorgeous man to marry you right then and there. "Any particular god or goddess that you're most interested in?"

"Hmm..." You pursed your lips thoughtfully, and Steven had half a mind to kiss them senseless. "I'd have to say Khonshu."

'GOOD ANSWER. KEEP HER, WORM.' Khonshu's thundering voice suddenly boomed in Steven's head.

"She's not a dog, you stupid pigeon." Steven grumbled, rubbing his temples exasperatedly.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"Nothing!" Steven answered quickly, forcing out a laugh. "Err, why Khonshu?"

"Well, I really like Astronomy!" You beamed. "And I find the moon to be one of the most beautiful things in our universe, so it feels fitting for my favourite Egyptian god to be Khonshu."

Despite Steven's distaste (to put it nicely) for the old bird, he could never find your response as such. Not when you looked so happy and comfortable sharing your interests with him, even though he did disagree with just one thing you said.

The moon doesn't even come close to being one of the most beautiful things this universe boasts. No, not when you existed.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

The alarm on your wristwatch cruelly popped the blissful little bubble you both were in, you turning it off as you saw that it was the end of your shift.

A regular person would be over the moon that they were finally free from their corporate prison, but not you. Not when you wished you could spend more time with Steven.

"Well..." Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, a pout forming on your lips. "Guess it's time for me to go home."

"It appears so..." Steven mumbled, his heart sinking to his stomach as he watched you put away the remaining items you were in charge of.

'It's now or never, Steven. Do something.' Jake urged.

'Do WHAT?'

'Fucking Christ, you're hopeless.' Jake sighed frustratedly, Steven's eyes rolling to the back of his head and his shoulders slumping. After a few seconds, he straightened up once more and approached you.

You were faced away from Steven, and you were having difficulty setting the final box of souvenirs you had on a shelf when Steven's hands reached from behind you and easily lifted them.

Your breath hitched, feeling his broad chest pressed against your back. He was so close you could feel his warm breath tickling the nape of your neck, making you gulp.

"T-Thank you, Steven..." You murmured meekly, feeling so small as he had you completely caged. You tried to turn, but his hands suddenly dropped to your hips; keeping you in place with a gentle but firm grip.

"You look so pretty today, Y/N." He leaned down, voice deliciously low as his lips ghosted just beneath your ear and a shiver ran down your spine. "But I think you can look even prettier. How 'bout tomorrow you dress all nice, and we can meet up around seven p.m. and have the best steak in town?"

Your thoughts were all jumbled up. Was this really happening or just another one of your silly fantasies? Where the hell did Steven get this sudden confidence from?

And, perhaps you were just imagining it, but he sounded...different. Not quite like the Steven you knew. He had an accent, but not the one you've gotten so familiar with and loved.

But the ache in your heart--and another part of you--was much too strong to bear. You've waited so long for this, dreamt of this, and it was finally coming true.

You definitely made the right decision to dress the way you did today and you sure as hell weren't going to let go of such a grand opportunity.

"I-I'd love to, but..." You placed your hands on top of his own still on your hips, and you wondered if he can tell just how embarrassingly sweaty your palms have gotten. "I...I know you're a vegan, Steven, so let's go somewhere else. There's a new restaurant that just opened and they've got vegan options. Um, y'know, if it's okay with you..."

The corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile and he couldn't stop himself as he nuzzled his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and revelling in your addicting scent.

"Perfect." He then spun you both around so that his back was against the shelf, but you still couldn't see him. His fingers slowly, teasingly trailed upwards along your stomach before reaching your blouse's breast pocket, slipping off your name tag and putting it in one of your hands. "I'll see you tomorrow, hermosa." He chuckled huskily, giving you a light push.

You were utterly dazed, cheeks flushed and stumbling in your steps slightly as you exited the room.

'What the bloody hell was THAT?!' Steven panicked.

"What do you think, ese?" Jake scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I just scored you a date."

'Well, I hope you're happy! Y/N looked so shocked!'

"I feel like a million dollars and Y/N looked like she liked it." Jake snickered. "Quit whining like a bitch and just be grateful, Steven. And hey, she even chose some hippie vegan place for you. Doesn't that prove she's into you?"

That immediately shushed Steven, and Jake can feel that despite Steven's complaining Steven was very much overjoyed and was already overthinking the date for tomorrow.

Jake looked down his hands, still remembering the soft curve of your hips even through your clothes and smirked.

You won't be wearing any for long now.

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jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

Text

happy birthday loser; jjk x reader; 18+

summary: after three years of simping over your roommate, you give him one hell of a birthday celebration. idiots to lovers pwp oneshot. literally zero plot

warnings: explicit smut, mutual thirsting, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, squirting, loud filthy (unprotected) sex. wrap before u tap

a/n: happy birthday jungkook! this is my first oneshot in 4+ years so be gentle w me please, usually i prefer to write series but i wanted to challenge myself and ofc write something special for everybody's favourite maknae's birthday. enjoy!

word count: 8k

On Thursdays you cook burgers for dinner.

But today isn’t just a regular Thursday.

It’s your roommates birthday, his twenty-fifth to be exact, so when you ventured to the grocery store last night you were sure to pick up the ingredients for his favourite meal in preparation for tonight. Samgyeopsal.

Pork belly is his favourite meat, you’ve been subjected to many a conversation about how tasty he finds it, how it’s the right balance of protein and fat, how it goes with anything, how he likes to wrap the succulent meat in lettuce leaves before submerging it into sauce and shoving it into his mouth.

It’s his favourite food without a shadow of a doubt. And so you’ve taken it upon yourself to cook it for him on his birthday. He is your favourite person after all, without a shadow of a doubt.

Jungkook moved in with you three years ago, at a very dark time in your life when you were wallowing in your post-breakup blues. You initially met the triple threat of tall, dark and handsome Jungkook at an open mic night when he struck up a conversation with you at the local bar.

As if being gorgeous isn’t enough, he’s a very talented singer and guitarist too, he and his grungy rock band like to play at bars and clubs on weekends. When he’s not busy at his nine to five as a software engineer, where he’s due to be leaving any minute now.

The more you got to know him you quickly realised he’s somewhat of a loser. Not a loser in the sense of having no friends and nothing significantly interesting about him – not in the slightest. Jungkook is a loser in the sense that he’s extremely introverted, painfully so, and lacks social skills.

He prefers to stay home after a gig, he doesn’t care for parties or girls or even much alcohol. He loves the quiet life, spending most evenings glued to his laptop to play videogames or sat beside you on the sofa binging something on Netflix. When he's not running his expert fingers over the nooks and crannies of his guitar.

Truthfully you’ve been kind of infatuated with him for a while now, he’s just so endearing and rib-shatteringly hilarious without even trying. It’s hard not to fall for him. His smile is earth-shatteringly perfect, his touch more so. You are but a woman after all, and a woman has needs and desires just like everybody else.

Jungkook being what you both need and desire daily.

At the time you met him a relationship was the last thing on your mind. Him moving into your spare bedroom was just a way to make up the rent and bill money your ex-boyfriend used to pay. But now you’re three years single save for the very occasional one night stand and Jungkook has never looked more appealing.

Maybe it’s the way he helps you reach snacks on the highest shelf when your tiptoes fail you. Perhaps it has a little something to do with the sweet melodies that flow from his pierced lips, flooding the apartment whenever he showers. It could be the fact he likes to ‘air-dry’ and parades around the place wearing nothing but a damp towel after said showers. Or it might have something to do with the way the supple skin beneath his big brown doe-eyes crinkles when he smiles.

But maybe, maybe, it’s because he’s everything you never realised you were looking for – until it quite literally showed up on your doorstep and moved in.

Okay so maybe you’re down bad for your roommate, but who in their right mind wouldn’t be? If you had to pick one word to describe Jungkook it would be… Perfect, handsome, funny, sweet, sentimental, ripped, gorgeous, talented. Any of those work just fine, it would be an insult to simply pick just one.

One of the many perks about living with Jungkook is that you’re both organised messy people, sure there’s some clutter here and there throughout the apartment but you both know damn sure what junk is where. Your personalities match, you don’t make the rules, they just do. All your friends say it, as do his friends. You'd be a show-stopping couple for sure.

It’s just that well… The man is somewhat emotionally constipated, can’t smell what’s right under his nose no matter how many hints you’ve given. Like a nose-blind lion on the prowl, there's a willing zebra right here, but he hasn't seemed to notice.

Wearing low-cut shirts at dinner, skirts that are a little too short, always making sure your makeup is clean and dewy looking even when wearing sweats. The innocent flirting that’s nowhere near innocent on your end. You shower him with compliments on the daily, being sure you don't appear too indifferent or nonchalant about it. You mean every compliment you've ever given him.

You like him, but you didn’t realise how frustrating that would prove to be giving his obliviousness.

But that all ends tonight.

You’re wearing a simple black slip dress, the smooth fabric ending just below the curve of your ass and the straps are so dainty that he’s bound to notice your exposed cleavage. Maybe even the lace trim of your sheer bra too, complete with a matching thong of course.

It’s not uncommon for you to get dressed up randomly, even before Jungkook moved in, you’ve always liked making an effort and looking pretty. It makes you feel good, confident even. You even went as far as to shave today, ensuring you're extra smooth, yknow just in case.

It's been a whole eleven months since you invited a guy back here, and the outcome was less than satisfying. Much like all your sexual endeavours, he got his and all you got was the ick. You haven’t seen the guy since.

It’s been a hot minute since Jungkook invited a girl back here too, maybe even over a year now. The way your roommate likes to saunter around half-dressed with long, messy brunette hair and a wicked smile has always affected you, made your mouth dry and your panties damp. Truthfully you don’t understand how a guy like that is single, well maybe it's because he doesn’t appear to have a radar for women, but you’re grateful nonetheless.

Black helium balloons fill your lounge, the big ‘25’ being the most obvious. You’ve spent the day mentally preparing for this, you want to show him how much you appreciate everything he does for you and celebrate his birthday properly. From him always prepping extra breakfast in the mornings just to make sure you’ve eaten, to his inked fingertips giving you back massages when you’ve hit the gym a little too hard. He’s usually the one to cook dinner most nights, so tonight you want to return the favour with a smile.

You’re just about to start prepping dinner when the unmistakable sound of his key in the door sends a rush of excitement through you. He’s home.

“Hey loser.” Jungkook’s voice is casual when he slips into the apartment, you’re too busy reapplying lip gloss to get a good look at him just yet.

“Good evening.” You chuckle, clamping the handheld mirror shut and sliding it into a kitchen draw.

You don’t know when it started, nor who started it. But the two of you like to use the term loser as a term of… almost endearment. It’s an inside joke between you both, friends and family members often gasp at the nickname you have for each other but for you? The word loser started to make your heart flutter and squeeze a long time ago. Finally you peer to the doorway and acknowledge him with a kind smile, one he’s reciprocating already.

“Happy birthday loser.”

As always he looks good enough to eat. His chiselled yet soft features, tanned skin, the little beauty mark nestled just beneath those very inviting lips of his. The muscles that threaten to tear through the fabric of his clothes. The tattoos that peak out from his sleeve cuffs. The piercings, his long dark hair that parts in the middle and frames those very handsome, genetic lottery winning features of his. You fight a teenage-like sigh, just looking at him is enough to make your heart race.

“What’s all this..?” His eyes scan the room as he shimmies out of his blazer, leaving him in a black shirt tucked into slacks of the same colour. His favourite colour is black, almost everything he owns is black, hence the fitting colour of the birthday decorations. “Are you making pork?” His angled chin tips in your direction, lazy footsteps bringing him closer.

“Mhm.” You nod, suppressing a grin, “You like pork belly, right? I thought it was your favourite.”

He’s nodding along to the sound of your voice, still smiling, “No I do, it is. It’s just we usually have burgers on a Thursday.”

“Ahh, but today isn’t just Thursday,” You remind him with a mischievous wink, “It’s your birthday, Thursday the 1st of September.”

“Congratulations you know how to read my drivers license.” Jungkook snorts when he props himself onto the kitchen countertop, next to your little workstation, “You look nice.”

“Thank you.”

“You didn’t have to do all this yknow.”

“I wanted to.” You hum, turning on the stove.

“But what if I already have plans to celebrate my birthday?” His pierced brow quirks, the silver barbel glimmering beneath the harsh kitchen lighting.

You tut, fighting the urge to roll your eyes when you glare at him and see his nose is already scrunched playfully, “Do you have plans?”

“Looks like I do now!” He claps, taking a beat before cocking his head to one side, his features softening upon watching you cook, “Thank you Y/N.”

Looking him dead in the eye you offer a genuine smile, “Anytime.”

“Would you be offended if I showered before we ate? The AC at work broke and this shirt feels sticky.” He sighs, cracking his neck.

“Why would I be offended?” A light puff of air rips from your nostrils when he fails to respond, his features blanketed with uncertainty and confusion. He really is emotionally constipated.

“No, I wouldn’t be offended loser. Go shower.” You’re giggling, shaking your head in disbelief, “It’ll be ready by the time you’re finished.”

“You’re the best!” He hops off the counter, making sure to spank your ass before skipping into the bathroom. “Happy birthday to me indeed.” He chuckles, winking in your direction before he closes the door behind him.

It’s always like this, the playful flirts and touches, but you crave something more. You want him to shove his tongue so far down your throat he could eat you out at the same time. You want to feel his tattooed hands to explore every square inch of your body while he fucks you into oblivion. The thought alone is enough to frustrate you.

Maybe you should just hop on top of him one night in front of the TV. Sometimes you do sit on his thighs, his ridiculously strong thighs, if there’s a lack of seating. You sigh dramatically, mentally debating whether the large sofa would fit through the window. If there’s nowhere to sit you’d have to sit on him. Problem solved. All you have to do is throw the fucking sofa out the window and pray he takes the hint. Easy enough.

The sizzling meat in the pan is interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening, revealing a cloud of steam and a shirtless Jungkook, tattoos and muscles displayed in all their glory. He’s wearing nothing but Calvin Klein boxer shorts, grey ones, that leave fuck all to the imagination.

“Forgot my towel.” He chuckles awkwardly, briefly heading into his bedroom to retrieve said towel. That damn white towel. What would he do if there were no towel? Walk around bare-ass with his dick on show? Maybe you could throw the towel out the window instead, it would be much easier than the sofa.

“You okay?” Jungkook’s presence startles you, he’s right next to you with furrowed brows and his stupidly muscular arms crossed over his chest, towel draped on his shoulder. “You zoned out again, thinking about anything good?” He’s laughing, wetting his lips between smiles.

Your gaze flickers to the bumps of his toned abdomen before settling on his face, he’s smiling brightly at you, seemingly unaware of the carnal desire you have to pin him to the kitchen floor and mount him right now.

“I’m fine, go get your shower.” You act indifferent, prompting a quiet, unconvinced ‘oookay’ from your roommate before he’s gone again.

You’re genuinely entertaining the idea of throwing out, no wait burning that sofa now, Jungkook’s thighs have always been way comfier anyway.

Interestingly enough the timing of his shower is perfect, you’re plating up dinner on the coffee table when he’s finished. Making sure to grab a bottle of soju from the cupboard, he’s not much of a drinker but you figure it is his birthday after all. Dragging two plump cushions from the sofa you’ve suddenly grown a strong hatred toward, you sit on one, leaving the other free for the birthday boy himself.

“Oh my god this smells great,” Jungkook comically inhales until his chest, his bare chest, is full of air. “Have you watched those 365 days movies? Someone at work recommended them to me earlier.” He says nonchalantly while sitting next to you, only wearing that damn white towel over his hips. The scent of his coconut bodywash clings to his beefy frame and floods your senses.

“The sex movies?” You laugh, handing him chopsticks all while trying to keep your gaze on his face. Somewhat a difficult challenge considering he's half naked. Again. “I’ve heard they’re really graphic with basically no plot, just steamy sex scenes, bad accents and a hot guy with tattoos.”

“Ah, you do like a man with tattoos.” He sniffs, fingertips lingering on yours while he grips the utensils, “Well since it’s my birthday I say we watch them. Seokjin at work said they're pretty good.”

“Okay,” You shrug, “But since when do you know about what kind of man I like?”

At this Jungkook grins, finding the remote and switching on Netflix, “You’ve only ever brought two guys back here since I moved in, both had tattoos. It’s a reasonable assumption to make.”

“Valid.” You’re nodding, beginning to tuck into the food, “I guess I do like men with tattoos, yeah.”

“Yeah?” He asks, gently elbowing your side. When you glance at him he’s smiling, wiggling his thick eyebrows animatedly while gesturing to his dark sleeve tattoo. “I’m a man with tattoos.”

“That you are.” You wink, praying to every higher power that one of these days he's going to acknowledge you're a woman. A woman with a vagina. A vagina that needs stuffing immediately.

“Shit Y/N this is amazing,” Jungkook’s frowning while he chews, a crystal clear sign that he’s enjoying the food you’ve made, “You should cook this more often, so much better than burgers. Fuck,” He moans, dark lashes dusting his face when he squeezes his eyes shut, “So good. So fucking good. Best birthday meal ever.”

This is how most of your nights together are spent, sat witching TV on the floor while eating dinner and enjoying each other’s company. You’re coming to the end of your meal when the first sex scene in the movie starts playing, well, okay not really. The characters aren’t having sex but she’s tied up to the bed watching someone else suck off the sexy guy with tattoos. Your brows are hiked up your forehead, eyes wide, this is not where you thought the plot was going.

“Would you ever do anything like that?” Your roommate asks with his last mouthful of food, watching the TV while running a hand through his damp long hair, “Maybe not the kidnapping part but would you ever wanna watch someone have sex?”

“Nah,” You shake your head, “Not for me. What about you?”

“For sure.” He affirms with a nod, still staring at the screen, “But I’d rather be watched than be the one watching. Especially if I was into the girl, I’m way too jealous for shit like that.”

Ignoring the way his response sends a shiver down your spine you swallow your food, “Aren’t you a little socially awkward to put yourself in that kind of situation? No offence.”

“None taken, I am an awkward guy,” He snorts, “But I don’t know, the idea of someone seeing me absolutely destroy someone kinda gets me going… I like the idea of being watched. Don’t you have anything like that?”

You gulp, “Like what?”

“Any kinks or fantasies.”

“I guess so… Doesn’t everybody?”

At this Jungkook takes it upon himself to pause the movie, giving you his full, undivided attention, “Tell me some.”

“Jungkook…” Your sigh shifts into an awkward giggle, truthfully he is your fantasy. And that towel doesn’t leave much to your imagination, if anything at all. But it doesn’t take you long to crumble, “Okay fine, what do you wanna know?”

“Where would you most like to have sex?” He’s smirking, hooded eyes boring into the depths of your soul, “Anywhere in the world, go.”

“Hmm… I don’t know actually, I’ve never thought about it. What about you?”

“My bed.”

You deadpan, a single brow quirked, “Your bed?”

“It’s comfy, it smells nice, and I can go to sleep after without worrying about getting home since I’m already here. Of course my bed is the number one choice.” He’s looking at you as though you’re stupid, as though his answer is obvious when he scoffs.

“Okay… that’s fair enough.”

Jungkook’s watching you closely, and you swear you see his vision drop to your chest for a millisecond before settling back on your eyes, “What would your ideal guy do to you in bed?”

Sucking in a breath of air you’re already nodding, “Easy. The ideal guy isn’t selfish and knows how to make me come, maybe even squirt. No guys ever made me do either. Your turn.”

“None of the guys you’ve slept with have made you come? What the fuck! Um-, okay…” He licks his teeth before making noises akin to car turning lights, emphasising his thoughts, “The ideal woman is bossy, not dominant but knows what she wants and tells me how to do it. I like vocal women, women who aren’t scared of their own voice. Plus the ideal can actually ride me, the amount of women that give up after four bounces is kinda disappointing.”

Suddenly your mouth feels very dry, prompting you to swallow nothing. Thankfully you’ve never heard Jungkook having sex, there’s been a couple of times you’ve heard heavy breathing and little whimpers from his bedroom but it’s always when he’s alone in there. Guys masturbate, it would be unreasonable to expect him not to do it when you’re home. Plus you’ve definitely gotten yourself off while he’s slept in the next room, you have zero room to talk.

“Really? Four bounces?” Your voice betrays you slightly, wavering with curiosity.

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong I don’t mind doing all the work, it’s just annoying when they talk a big game and put in minimal effort. Just be upfront about wanting me to be in charge, you know? I like being in charge it’s no big deal.”

You’re shaking your head, frowning with an uncertain smile, “Then what are you complaining about?”

At this the birthday boy sighs exasperatedly, as though you’re missing the point, “It’s just annoying isn’t it? When you think somethings gonna go a certain way and then it doesn’t…”

“Tell me about it.” You snort, pouring two shots of peach soju.

“Okay,” Jungkook takes the shot of soju, snapping his fingers excitedly, seemingly unphased by the bitter taste of alcohol, “Who do you wanna sleep with more than anyone in the world? Who’s your number one?”

Slinging back the soju, you bite the bullet with an devilish smirk.

“Hmmm… You.”

Stone cold regret washes over you when he looks through you, the same way he looks at people he’s not comfortable with yet. The exact same expression he gives strangers when he doesn’t understand why he’s been roped into their conversations. His pierced lips purse, the Adam’s apple in his throat bobbing from a thick swallow. Eyes animatedly round, shocked and astonished.

“Uhh…” He wets his lips before his eyes narrow, brows pinching, “I’m being serious Y/N…”

You nod, “Me too but never mind.” You sigh dramatically, pouring more shots.

“Stop fucking around with me!” He playfully pushes your shoulder, earning embarrassed laughter to bubble in the depths of your throat, “You can’t just say that to me out of nowhere!”

“Out of nowhere?” You repeat, frustrated, “Jungkook I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve tried hitting on you and it just seems to go straight over your head.” You whine, lips forming a cute pout that he can’t stop staring at, “Anyway… Like I said, never mind. Forget I said anything. Who’s your number one?”

But Jungkook is too stunned to speak. He’s looking down at you as though you’ve just told him you want to marry him and have his babies. Surprised doesn’t cut it, nor does confused. It’s a deadly cocktail of the two mixed with a little nervousness tugging his usually sharp features up and wide.

“I-, what?” He blinks away his daydream, “Are you being serious? You actually wanna fuck me? I can’t tell. You know I’m bad with stuff like this. Spell it out for me loser.”

At this you shake your head, feeling deflated, “It doesn’t matter, honestly just forget I said anything, you don’t find me attractive so it’s not like it’s ever gonna—”

“Now you’re putting words in my mouth.”

An agitated exhale leaves you, your roommate still staring at you expectantly with a single brow quirked, “You don’t have to say it out loud Kook, it’s obvious.”

“Wow, you really don’t know me at all, do you?” His white teeth are bared in a dazzling panty-dropping grin, “Why do you think I’m sitting here in a towel Y/N? Just out of curiosity.”

“Cause you like to ‘air-dry’.” You mimic air quotes with a mocking tone, slugging back another shot of soju. He does the same.

Jungkook’s voice drops into something akin to seductive, biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a huge smile, “Actually, I thought that maybe if I walk round the place half naked all the time you’d take the hint eventually. You think when I moved in friendship was the only thing on my mind?” He’s laughing now, shaking his head in disbelief, baffled, tongue darting over his lips to wet them. “You think when I came up to you at the bar all I wanted was to be your friend?”

“W-what are you saying? That you are attracted to me?” Your heart races away in your chest, a lick of heat wetting your spine when your roommate tilts his head to one side, smirking.

“Ask me who my number one is.”

“Okay… I’ll humour you. Who’s your number one?” You’re blushing, unable to wipe the smile from your features when he sucks in a harsh breath of air, watching you closely.

His inked hand finds the nape of your neck, tugging your face closer, close enough that your noses bang together and you both giggle. “You are, loser.”

The next thing you know he’s kissing you, and you’re kissing him back.

Where most make out sessions begin soft and slow, gentle and uncertain while both parties attempt to figure out what the other likes – that’s far from what’s happening here. It’s heated, it’s messy and fuelled by years of pent up frustration and longing. His grip moves to your jaw where he pries it open, slipping his tongue into your mouth at that exact moment.

“Oh… Jungkook…” You mewl, smiling triumphantly against his mouth.

Fucking finally.

“You have,” He pulls back, lips kiss-swollen and stained with lip gloss, “No idea,” His hands sneakily find your hips, guiding your body until you’re straddling his towel-clad thighs, “How long,” He’s smirking, palming the fat of your ass when his lips find your in a hurry, “I’ve wanted to fuck you.”

“Well why didn’t you say anything then?!” You frown, sighing in bliss when your dress is being pushed up, pooling your abdomen that’s full of pork belly and butterflies. Giving enough leeway for Jungkook’s fingertips to slip into the waistband of your underwear.

He chuckles into the kiss, averting his mouth to pepper your jawline with lots more dainty little kisses, whispering, “The same reason you didn’t, I didn’t know you were into me like that.”

“Except I tried, multiple times…” You hum, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Palms explore Jungkook’s muscular back, every lump, bump, every inch of tanned bare flesh that you’ve seen simultaneously way too many times and not enough at all. “All the slutty outfits… The compliments, I’ve been pretty vocal about finding you attractive actually.” You’re grinning, fingertips toying with the long brunette hairs at the nape of his neck.

At this Jungkook sighs, lulling his head back to get a better look at your face. His eyes are blown dark with lust, his gaze hooded and intense. But it’s the breath-taking smile he wears that sends a rush of heat straight between your legs.

“I do like a woman who’s vocal about what she wants.” He winks, crushing his lips to yours once more, “So tell me what you want loser.”

“Want you.” You pout, elbows resting atop his broad shoulders when you brush the hair away from his face, physically incapable from breaking the string of messy kisses. He tastes like peaches and sin. “Want you to make me come.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, ridding your body of the skimpy little dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination. “Wish you told me all this sooner, could’ve been blowing your back out daily by now.”

“Not my fault you can’t take a hint.” You snort, blood rushing to your cheeks when you see his hungry stare fixed to your almost bare body atop of his thighs.

He rolls his eyes, “You’re one to talk. Why do you think I put your snacks on the top shelf?”

“So you can help me reach them…?” You scoff, biting down on your lip, “So you look like a strong alpha man helping his poor defenceless vertically challenged roommate?”

“Nah,” He admits with throaty laughter, large palms exploring your curves and reaching round your back, until they’re unclasping your bra in one swift movement, “Like seeing your ass peek out the tiny little dresses you wear when you get on your tiptoes.”

Your mouth falls open in genuine shock, brows raised expectantly, “Jeon Jungkook!” You gasp, gripping his chin and angling it towards your lips, “Who knew you were such a fucking pervert?”

The man’s in a total daze, lost in your eyes with a bright smile, “You think that's perverted? You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Maybe this is a bad idea. Having wild, carnal, fringing-on-illegal sweaty hot passionate sex with your roommate. Maybe. But when your bare back hits his soft mattress with a ‘ooomf’ and he rids himself of that damn towel, you struggle to see past this moment right here, right now. Jungkook is naked, and it’s a glorious sight.

You’re grinning when he crawls up the bed, but to your surprise, no, rather to your excitement, he stops when his profile is faced with your underwear. Hooking his fingertips beneath your thong he smirks, gaze briefly meeting yours until he’s dragging your underwear beneath your ass and down your legs.

Being naked in front of Jungkook is something you’ve often thought about, it was the motivation behind your tactical shave earlier today, secretly praying this would happen. But now that you’re here, in his monochrome bedroom that smells of vanilla, on full display for the man you’ve been crushing on for so long. It all gets a little overwhelming.

“What are you doing?” He mumbles, thick brows pinched when you sheepishly shut your legs and stop him from seeing the whole show.

“I-, uh…” You swallow, clearing your throat, “It’s been a while…”

“And?”

“And I’m nervous.” You giggle, throwing your head back into his pillows.

At this he makes his way up to your face, knocking your legs apart with his knees to settle his weight between them. His strong arms hold his body in place, planted either side of your face. The way he’s peering down at you should be illegal, so smug yet there’s a glimmer of concern behind his sparkly eyes. It’s when he releases a breath of air against your face that his features soften into a faint smile, awestricken.

“I think you’re gorgeous Y/N, you don’t need to be nervous.”

“I haven’t had sex in almost a year…” You whisper, avoiding his gaze.

“And?” He repeats, chuckling mostly to himself, “Neither have I. And it didn’t stop you from using that noisy ass vibrator of yours the other night, did it?” Your eyes snap to his in a panic, he’s fully laughing now, the sound equal parts mischievous and salacious. “Walls are very thin…” He sniffs, tilting his chin to the wall his headboard rests on, backing onto your bedroom.

It’s after you sigh, beyond mortified that he heard such obscenities, that he sinks his lips to a sweet spot on your neck, sucking the flesh harsh enough to leave sensual bruises, “Let me make you feel good baby, I promise I’ll make you feel good… Don’t be nervous.” He murmurs, and you’re left breathless.

The pet name sends a rush of something strange over your body, you’re not used to him calling you anything other than loser. Maybe your name, but definitely not baby. You like it. While he’s working on making a total mess of your neck the familiar heat and lust comes back, stronger, deeper, and more determined.

“Jungkook… Please… W-want you to make me feel good.” You whisper, already in a daze.

It’s then that you feel him smirk against your skin, planting one final coy kiss to your lips before making his way down your body with one continuous lick that has your body aflame. His tongue never leaves you, travelling to your collarbones, your breasts. The flat wet muscle glides over your nipple and you gasp, brows furrowed in concentration.

“You’re so sensitive…” He hums, lapping up your nipple, taking it between his teeth and playfully sucking. Tiny whimpers and moans peep from your lips, along with the occasional gasp that has your roommate losing his goddamn mind. His tongue soon finds the other nipple, winning himself more of the same noises that are making his cock throb with anticipation already.

“So nobody’s ever made you come, huh?” He mumbles, “But you’re so fucking sensitive baby… Aren’t you?”

“Mhm…” You bite your lip, hands greedily smoothing over his bare shoulders. You want to feel his body, his entire body. You want it on top of you, next to you, underneath you, inside you. Perhaps it’s due to all the pent up frustration harboured toward him, but there’s a dull beat between your legs that you so desperately want him to listen to.

And then it hits you, Jungkook likes vocal women.

“Make me come please… Want you to make me come…” You moan, writhing around beneath him at the new found tingles all over your body. The cool air kisses your core when he spreads your thighs, sinking down the bed until he’s eye level with your bare pussy.

“Oh my god.”

His words win you to tug yourself up onto your elbows, a little curious. That’s when you find him staring at your vagina with pure astonishment. Lips ajar, brows hiked so far up his forehead that it’s wrinkled, a small surprised scoff hot against your flesh.

“What?” You frown, suddenly self-conscious, “What are you looking at?”

“What am I looking at?” He parrots, sighing with puffed out cheeks, “The prettiest pussy I’ve ever fucking seen, that’s what I’m looking at.”

“Oh.” You giggle, not knowing what to say.

You didn’t expect him to be so confident in the bedroom, so outspoken and complimentary. It’s no secret that he’s a very socially awkward man in the streets. Apparently a very different story to the personality he has between the sheets.

“You have the cutest little beauty mark…” He whispers, sinking his lips to your folds, “Right here.” He kisses you gently, and you feel like squealing. “Fuck, you’re addicting baby. Losing my mind down here.” He chuckles right before digging in.

He places a languid, drawn-out lick from your entrance to your clit, one so mind-numbingly slow that your toes curl against the sheets. He repeats this, once, twice, three, four, five times until he’s dipping his tongue between your folds with a whispered moan. It feels nice, feels good, but it's not enough.

“You plan on making me come any time soon, loser?” You playfully kick his shoulder, winning hot laughter against your centre.

It’s then that his arms hook under your thighs and he drags you closer to his waiting face, until his full lower-profile is smothered in your cunt. His chin, his multitalented lips, the soft bend of his nose, all of it. He playfully slaps your thighs and you take the hint, throwing your legs over those obnoxiously broad shoulders of his.

That’s when your guttural moan fills the air, when Jungkook starts lapping up your clit so expertly that you question whether the whole ‘shy, socially inept, cute boy’ persona he has going for him is just a façade.

He’s good at this. He’s fucking amazing at this. You’re gasping for air when he suckles on your clit, massaging the muscle with his tongue while it’s still being pulled between his lips. You groan, you hiss, you whimper. It feels indescribably fantastic, and there’s no way he’s not going to be able to get you off doing this.

“Holy shit, Jungkook.” You whine, hips pushing your core impossibly closer to his face. “Mmmph, oh—” Another long moan cuts you off, actually it’s more of a groan. A needy one at that.

His hooded stare flickers up to your face, watching your every move before him. “So sensitive.” He murmurs, sounding disbelieved.

Watching you wriggle and whimper for him only fuels his lust further. He takes it upon himself to push your legs onto your chest with one hand. Until your knees are to your breasts. You don’t complain at the new angle so he carries on, pulling away from your pussy for a second to spit on his fingers. Not that he thinks you’re going to need it, you're already drowning his sheets.

Unceremoniously he plunges two digits into you dripping walls, and you shriek.

“Jungkook, oh god, oh my god Jungkook…” You pant, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open.

It’s a second later when his mouth reattaches to your clit and you’re borderline sobbing. You feel so full, like an elastic band being stretched to it’s limits. You’re going to snap soon, you know it. There’s a heat building in your gut, one that comes in rhythmic waves that match your racing heart.

That’s when something odd swells inside your stomach, something new and exciting and overwhelming. Jungkook’s fingers aren’t fucking in and out of you like you’d expect them to be, they’re consistently inside you, curling upward and pressing against a spot that very few people, yourself included, have ever managed to discover.

“Jungkook seriously what the-, fuck!” You warn him, eyes flying open in utter disbelief.

“Mmm?” He chuckles, his response lost to the sounds of your pornographically wet pussy squelching and sloshing around his fingers.

“I’m-, oh my fucking god…” You’re whining, whimpering, shivering. “Feels so fucking good.”

At this he moans in response, sucking your clit harder, hitting that spot inside you even harder, faster. You inhale sharply, preparing yourself for the earth-shattering ecstasy that’s sure to crash down on your body any second now. But strangely enough it isn’t the hold of your clit between your roommates lips that pushes you over the edge, nor is it the thrilling curl of his finger.

You peer down at him, his brows furrowed deep with concentration, the same way they are when he eats something delicious. His face is spinning and twisting to each and every side to make sure he’s licking and sucking all your nerve endings. And that’s when his heavy eyes flicker up at your mess of a face.

Jungkook winks.

And you squirt everywhere.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my fucking god!” You groan, watching the man who you’ve been simping over for years giggle against your skin as though he hasn’t just made a catastrophic mistake.

Because now you’ve experienced this side of him, there’s absolutely no way you can go back to just being roommates.

He doesn’t fold, doesn’t stop, nor does he slow. No. He carries on. Sucking, finger-fucking, licking, moaning, curling those digits and slurping at your pussy until it happens again. And again. And again.

And again.

“P-please…” Your body jumps and jolts on the mattress, convulsing from oversensitivity, your back damp with sweat and heart beating so fast you fear it’s going to implode any second now. “I-, I can’t take another one…” You pant, hands flying to the hairs at his scalp where you try and pry him aware from your core.

He hums in agreement, nodding along with your words all while wearing a big, dumb grin. “Okay.”

You’re fucked. Head spinning, reeling, brain unresponsive. Limbs already aching, you’ve never come this many times in one sitting to date. Not even with that ‘noisy-ass’ vibrator of yours. The distant sound of laughter forces you to come back to reality, finding Jungkook laid next to you with shiny lips and a wicked smirk. His head resting on the bend of his elbow, his pierced brow quirked curiously.

“I’ll give you a minute...” He’s laughing, tongue toying with his silver lip ring. A moment later he shifts on the bed, until he’s laid on his back and his entwined hands are tucked behind his head. A content smile broadens his features, a smug one, one that gives you a devilish idea.

Adrenaline and the need to have his cock inside you courses your veins, along with a hint of arrogance. That’s what leads you to sitting up, mouth falling open when you catch sight of Jungkook’s huge cock, rock hard and waiting. Oh you’re about to give him the best birthday present in the world. He wants a woman that can ride him? Who can last longer than four bounces?

Challenge accepted.

Carefully, you throw your leg over his waist until you’re hovering over his muscular body. He really is huge, by every ridiculous definition of the word. Lazily, he opens his eyes before they grow wide with surprise at your current position.

“Oh?” He chuckles, hungrily exploring your naked body with his stare, as though he hasn’t been ogling it for the past however long you’ve been in here. “I’ll warn you now, if you’re any good at this I’m gonna have to take you on a date.”

“We’re going out on a date regardless.” You snort, gripping the base of his shaft, shit, he’s big, “Since you’re the only guy around here who knows how to make me come.”

“Suits me just fine loser, I'll take you on a date. If you're lucky I'll make you squirt again at the dinner table.” He grins, wetting his lips. “Let me rephrase then, if you ride me like you mean it I’ll take you on the best date of your life this weekend.”

“Deal.” You wink, chest swelling.

You pump his cock a few times before you sink yourself down onto it with a long, shaky moan.

“Holy shit… baby…” He pants, tugging at his own hair with furrowed brows.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut but you can just about make out them rolling back into his skull behind his lashes. It’s when you’re fully settled onto his cock that you bite your lip, picking yourself up only to slam down onto him with a loud wet smack. His doe-eyes snap open at lightening speed, a drawn-out grown rumbling his strong chest.

“Fuck!” He gasps, jaw slack and eyes wide.

You grin down at him triumphantly, clearly he didn’t know you were capable of making him feel just as good as he made you feel. You repeat the motion, harder. You do it again, and again, until Jungkook’s hissing and messily gripping your hips in a hurry.

“Y/N… What the fuck?!” He stifles a moan when he bites his lip, mesmerised by the way your pussy squeezes his cock each and every time you pull yourself up and drop back onto it. “Seriously what the fuck are you made of, oh my-, fuck—”

It’s at this moment you brace yourself on his chest with splayed hands, keeping your body steady before you ride him like your existence depends on it. Like there’s no tomorrow. Like you’re the only two people on earth. There’s a hot burn in your thighs but you don’t let up, bouncing on him consistently, pace never faltering.

He’s so big that you fear you’ll split open, but you welcome the underlining sting of being this stuffed. Obscene wet noises along with the sound of the bed squeaking in sync with your movements fill the air. Beneath you Jungkook is a moaning mess, he’s chewing on his lips as though that’ll stop the profanities and groans from escaping him – but it doesn’t.

“Baby… Oh we definitely-, oh shit-,” He hisses, hands snaking round to your ass cheeks where he squeezes them like they’re his favourite stress-balls, “We should’ve done this-, way-, waaaay sooner.” He moans again, head thrown back into his pillow.

You’re slamming down on him with force, so much intent behind your bounces that the crown of his cock hits your cervix each time without fail. The sight before you will be burned into your memory forever. Jeon Jungkook, panting, whimpering, trying his absolute best to keep it together all while you ride him to heaven and hell and back again.

“You like it when I ride this fat cock of yours?” You moan, usually you’re not one for dirty talk but you simply can’t help yourself. He looks… Feral. And it’s only spurring you on even more. “You’re so big Jungkook, fuck, feels so fucking good inside me…”

“You-, you’re…” He can’t get his words out, they’re dying in the back of his throat, lost to the ‘mmmphs’ and ‘ooohhhs’ he delivers every time you drop down on him. “Do I l-like it? Fuck. Best-, mmmph, best fucking pussy... Slow down baby, please.” He whines, the sound has your lower abdomen in utter turmoil, another orgasm threatening to ripple your body.

You do as he says, he is the birthday boy after all. Besides, there’s no way in hell this is going to be the only time you’ll ride him. Your evenings together are going to look a whole lot different from now on, that's for sure.

The speed of your ministrations slows, but the depth and force does not. You’re still fucking yourself on his hard length with so much purpose that you feel his knees buckling, thick thighs twitching beneath you.

“Baby, fuck…” He rasps, “Ohhh fuck! Mmmph…” It’s like he’s mesmerised, mouth hanging open and eyes incapable of looking anywhere but you. He's completely infatuated with the way you feel atop of him.

You feel a hand snake up to the nape of your neck before you’re being pulled toward his face, his lips smashing against yours in another series of messy, desperate kisses. Gritting your teeth when the white hot heat inside your walls threatens to snap, Jungkook feels your sopping walls clench around his girth and groans into your mouth.

“Again? Ohhh...” He hisses, trying his best to sound cocky but it’s less than convincing when he too is a whimpering mess. “You’re a fucking goddess Y/N-, ohhhh.” He pants, finding your hips with tattooed hands where he holds them in place.

It’s a moment later when he plants his feet flat against the mattress, bending his knees, showcasing his strength when he keeps you in one place above him. That’s when he fucks you hard, as though he’s punishing you for something. Thrusting in and out of you so violently that you’re blubbering into the crook of his neck.

“Fuck! Right there, right fucking there!” You cry out, voice almost lost to the brutal clapping noises of you being fucked ten ways to Sunday.

Each rut of his hips has you seeing stars, he feels so fucking good inside you. So deep. His pelvis is knocking against your swollen clit, be it intentional or accidental you'll never know - but it has you spiralling into insanity.

A long, vocal moan tears from your throat when you’re hit with another orgasm. You feel boneless, as though you’ve just discovered the real definition of pleasure. You’re so wet that he’s sliding in and out of you with ease now, the pulsing of you walls throwing him over his own edge until he thrusts into you one final time.

It's deeper, he's holding your hips in place, dragging them impossibly closer to his body when he fills you with his come. Breathless and sweaty.

“Baby… Oh my… god.” He chokes out between ragged breaths, and you can’t help but giggle into his skin.

Moments later you’re rolling off him, too weak to adjust the position you land in but you do throw a leg over his thighs with a smile. Heavy breathing and quiet chuckles bring you back down to earth, forcing you to gaze over at your roommate.

Jungkook’s already looking at you like he’s madly in love, as though you’ve just offered to do this every day with him for the rest of your lives. When you wet your lips and smirk you register his cock twitching against his abdomen, he really is shameless. And by the look on his face, he isn’t even close to being through with you.

"Best. Birthday. Ever." He pants, absolutely befuddled that he's just had sex, mind-blowingly, indescribable sex with his roommate, the same roommate he's been fawning over for a long time now.

You send him a wink before pulling his face to yours, there's no fucking way you're done with him either.

“Happy birthday loser.”

#jungkook #jungkook oneshot #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #happy birthday jungkook #jungkook fluff #roommate!jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook x you

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fatale-distraction · 4 months

Text

BG3 Companions Social Media Headcanons Part 1

I was bored at work and couldn’t stop. 🤣 I’ll make another post with Halsin, Minthara, Jaheira, Minsc, and some NPCs!

~~~

Astarion - Pre-Tav, Astarion's social media is mostly thirst-traps for some kind of nefarious, Cazador-related money-making plot. They barely scoot past the TOS on lewd content. Very little real personal content, anything that isn't a thirst trap is heavily doctored lifestyle content to make it seem like he's living a much more luxurious life than he actually is.

After meeting Tav and getting rid of Cazador, he deletes all of his old accounts and opens up new ones. They're not exactly private, but he's much more careful about who he follows and who can follow him back. The posts become much more genuine. Still a lot of selfies, but they're sexy in the way of a guy just finally living his truth and being comfortable in his own skin. There's more shots of his daily life; waking up with his partner's obnoxious pets strewn across the bed, morning coffee and his current favorite book, new outfits that make him feel more himself. Tav features heavily in most of his posts, and there are probably as many pictures of them as there are of himself.

Karlach - chaos. No rhyme or reason. Lots of parkour and Jack-ass parodies. Constant flood of pictures of her stuffed animal collection. Stupid filters abound. There's several videos of her just flexing. Lumberjack videos. Seven hundred pictures of Tav, tons of selfies together. Videos of her literally sobbing over some cute stuffy she found or a dog she got to pet. "How many times can I say the fuck word before I get suspended." Memes. Memes everywhere.

Lae'zel - She follows three accounts and never posts anything, but somehow she's constantly scrolling through. What does she even do? Her profile picture is still the default. She doesn't have any profile information filled out. It just says "No." Her screen name is just Lae_zel. Every single item in her favorites is a cat video. She has One photo and its a gym selfie. All of her comments seem really mean at first, but they're all weirdly supportive things along the lines of "your teeth are sharp and your visage terrifying".

Shadowheart - total E-girl influencer vibe. Everything is #nofilter. She doesn't need filters. She's god's most perfect princess. You can't even be mad because it's not vanity its just how she Is. Ends everything with Prayer-hands-emoji hashtag Shar'sblessings or Selune'sblessings depending on where she is in that journey. Hairstyle and makeup tutorials and she makes it look so damn easy. "Dye my hair and cut my bangs with me." "Get ready with me" videos nearly every day. Every picture has a comment from Astarion that just says "oh fuck off" because even he can never hope to be as perfect as she is. Or at least that's what her forty-five thousand followers think.

Wyll - The official Blade of the Frontier social media account(s). Fencing videos and promos. "How to polish your horns for newbies" video that's been taken down twenty-seven times for lewd content even though it's literally for polishing actual horns. Accidental thirst traps because damn. Lots of disability advocacy, especially for visual impairments. Weekly Demon/Devil PSAs. Constantly featured in Karlach's vids and vice-versa. Buddy selfies. Once in a while a pic of him with his dad. Pics with Tav are rare, but when he does post them they're the sweetest pictures and he gushes about them for paragraphs. It's a little gross how gushy they are. Astarion comments with vomit emojis and Wyll just replies with an angry face emoji. The purest content. He's so wholesome. Not a swear to be seen. Lots of gentle hype videos. "You've got this. You can do this. I believe in you."

Gale - oh my god he has the most pretentious social media accounts. He's worse than Astarion. "Well, actually" videos with multiple parts because they're too long. Tea and bookshelves. Tara. So many pics of Tara. Tara napping on a book. Tara swatting a fly. Tara in the window. Tara on the kitchen counter. Tara laying in the sun. Tara doing nothing. He has one of those fancy cat terrarium backpacks. Magic tutorials. Mystra simp. Surprisingly few selfies but the ones he has are IMMACULATE. Pretentious book reviews. His only saving grace is that he is HILARIOUS. He's the only one with a reasonable about of pics with Tav as opposed to almost none or way too many, but the captions are always really sweet.

~~~

Part 2 here!

Part 3 here!

Part 4

#baldur's gate 3 #Baldur’s gate 3 Headcanons #bg3 #bg3 headcanons #shadowheart #astarion #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #astarion ancunin #lae'zel #karlach

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jjungxkook · 2 years

Text

blackout | jjk

⇥ pairing: roommate!jungkook x reader

⇥ genre: best friends to lovers, roommate and college au, fluff, crack, smut

⇥ rating: 18+

⇥ warnings: swearing, he’s just a bit of a fuckboy, bickering, swooning over/thirsting for jk (🤷‍♀️), a manually induced fake blackout? dunno those 2 are odd k, they play uno, a lot of spending time in the darkness, kook has no chill, teasing, consent, dirty talk, fingering, cmnf for a while, sexual tension, oral (both receiving), shower sex, choking, hair pulling, reader cries a bit, jk likes to praise, dry humping?, pussy and tits slapping rip (and some ass ig), making out🙄, manhandling, jk loves her tits and ass and plays with them (a lot), he’s sweet but cocky too, protected sex, dom + big dick kook

⇥ wc: 14.3k

⇥ author’s notes: this is a repost from my old blog!! i may repent for my sins. also i do not know why this is so long, i thought it would be 10k rip please i apologize. anyways, i really hope you like it!! i’m very stoked to find out what you think😶‍🌫️

⇥ summary: Utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. Luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.

–

pt1 || pt2 || pt3

–

The hardness of the bench is tiring out your ass.

It’s incredible to you what tribulations you’re ready to burn through just to keep your best friend happy and satisfied. The blazing noon sun is steaming your scalp, even though in the middle of fall, it really shouldn’t.

Fingers wrapped around the edge of your seat, you lean forward and squint your eyes. You make out the energized individual running across the field immediately. Nevermind that he promised you football but you got soccer instead.

You wouldn’t dare to complain, though. In the summer heat, lopsided beams and big, dark puppy eyes refresh you like the late night Tequila Sunrises you love so much.

“Are you playing or taking a walk?” You yell from where you watch. Childish howling and woahhhhs echo across the field, fists pressed against round mouths and eyebrows skyrocketing.

They strive off anyone’s praises, really, but your unfaltering coaching pushes them forward a good, humongous step. In fact, you only recognize about a handful of the players, though there aren’t that many anyway.

No one running around down there cares much about authentic formations. The game usually played with eleven screaming, pumped members on each side only consists of four per team today.

It’s entertaining: The constant curses that always evolve into dramatic compliments, the loud and ambitious handshakes when they score, and the testosterone dissolving in the air, but only after the scent has wafted straight into your nostrils.

And the verbal invitations Jungkook hands out to you every week with pouting lips might play a role, too, yeah. He doesn’t like to make you wait like he does right now, but he doesn’t necessarily enjoy distance from you much, either.

A buff man in his mid-twenties, attractive beyond Greek gods’ appearance, highly determined and ready to indulge in new hobbies – relies on you, even after years of independence.

Seeing you watch and cheer him on boosts his already steadfast ego, and he’s never failed to let you know that, “It feels different from when other girls scream my name.”

You wish you could take it as a compliment, but the consistent ambiguity in his (bitter)sweet words fatigues your heart. The beat of it is not so consistent.

The crush has been omnipresent since you learned the first steps of stupid algebra, but lately, something in your lower belly has shifted weirdly, too.

Today, the shift shows in the way you clench the edge of your seat.

You hear the boys announce the end of their groundbreaking, world changing match, though you can’t recall who won, and observe the languid steps Jungkook takes toward the bench.

Energy slowly dwindling, he puffs out a deep breath, unaware that something inside you dies when he throws back the damp hair. His white, sleeveless shirt is sticking to his broad, firm chest – the refined pecs, abs and bare arms might not have triggered your embarrassing drooling if the last weeks hadn’t changed your perception of him.

There are, for instance, the filth-riddled noises when he’s fucking one of his occasional flings to the moon. Or how those exact same groans of his repeat when he heaves something that perhaps does not even require this low ass growl.

The sounds when he’s repairing something at your place or stretching after waking up. How you wish you could add to those sounds by delivering your very own, unique version of the female moans you usually hear from his room.

You could blame it on sex deprivation, or you could blame the outrageous line of his jaw, but you think the walls of your pussy have deformed and become dick-shaped. Welcoming a certain something that's definitely better than your beloved toys, according to the sounds at least.

This yearning feels kind of weird.

Jungkook has stopped not too far from you. He lifts his inked, veiny hand to wave and then reaches for his bottle to hydrate. And hydrating he does – in a way so alluring that you think he’s doing it on purpose.

Flashing the jawline of nightmares, he cuts you from afar. Sharp, more hazardous than in his teenage years. A phenomenal bone structure, accentuated by the shine of the tiny sweat drops. Shimmering golden skin.

When he drinks, you see his Adam’s apple bop even from here. His bicep is hard, bangs falling into his eyes, and his pink lips wrap around the bottle so prettily…

Thirst.

You and he both know how it feels.

Your mouth shuts close before he can notice. Instead you cup your hands around your mouth and call out to him.

“You do know we have an appointment today, right?”

“Your dick appointments can wait,” he yells back. When you roll your eyes to the back of your head, mumbling gross, the dork chuckles. “I’ll be done in a sec.”

He wraps stuff up, running back to his friends, and claps his hands before giving everyone a last handshake-bro-five-mix. The fondness you feel watching his social side bloom is blissful torture.

Jungkook grew up as a timid caterpillar, shying away from crowds and public gatherings. Opening up took a while, so you can’t remember when he went through the process of metamorphosis to come out prettier than a Cramer’s Blue Morpho butterfly.

He's still somewhat introverted, but doesn't back away from parties anymore. Red cups fill with intoxication. Bodies sashay past him, some toward him to fall into his grip.

You don’t want to be envious – so you’re proud instead. You enjoy when he’s liked by someone, love how the others grin at him. A likable and soft person like him taking over hearts left and right either platonically or not is kind of attractive to you.

“I’ll wash up,” his voice declares when he’s standing next to you. “And then we go.”

“Aren’t you gonna take a proper shower?”

“Yeah, later tonight. College showers are gross.”

Your conversations are a constant repetition. The way you act around each other, your gazes and your actions were bound to become a routine – if not during your time growing up together, then certainly when you began searching for a place to share.

So his response doesn’t surprise you. Neither does the further waiting on the bleachers, pulling in your knees, draping your arms around them to press your cheek against them. Daydreaming and watching or listening boy after boy leave the field.

Despite the familiarity of everything, you still feel different these days.

–

“After last time, I feel like you’re asking for too much.”

The man, not exactly happy about missing a live match of tennis but not quite grumpy today either, leans against the frame of his door. White, wet tresses peek through his dark mane, an indicator he just showered to enjoy the calm day you interrupted.

Jungkook’s hair was as wet as his when you left the bleachers too, now fully dry as you stand in your old but cozy building.

How could it not be?

Considering the dozen stops between campus and your home, you could possibly dry an entire laundry in that time. Both of you are at fault, though – one of the million things you’re good at doing together is wasting money on stuff you might not necessarily need.

Convenience store, pharmacy and a flower shop to buy yet another succulent for your room. Jungkook pouted and frowned at you for the entirety of the convenience store visit when you told him the landlord thing wasn’t an appointment per se, but that he knew as well as you that you needed to sort things out.

Things being the impossible utility bills that keep you up at night. Things being both your stupidity to still halt in front of shops to acquire things like parsley and cheese.

Remembering just this idiocy and looking at the power your landlord’s eyes hold, you’d rather look at Jungkook than him.

At the shiny hair tips hanging into your friend’s eyes. The oversized gray shirt that could potentially hide the body he sports underneath, but his fingers are holding the strap of his rucksack, and the pull at his shirt is enough to make the lines of his chest visible.

But this afternoon is not about brooding over the edges of his torso. It’s about confronting a landlord who fortunately didn’t meet you in a hazardous mood despite his firm plans for tonight. He doesn’t complain about the weather today or seem elated because he found yet another new hobby, like he usually does.

He looks almost neutral, you think. You can’t read him, actually.

“Yes,” you confirm, exchanging a look with Jungkook. “It does sound like a lot, but you know you can count on us–”

“Dunno. You don’t seem to remember last time.”

The taunting tone riles you up, but the numbers on your bills haunt you enough to keep your calm. This is no time for an argument.

You take a breath and shoot another glance at Jungkook. His eyes are tremendously big and lips pressed together to an innocent, uplifting smile. He seems to sense your irritation, too.

“We do,” you confirm. “But c'mon, that's not fair. We’d just started living on our own back then. You know, no guardians to take care of us and all, so it was bound to happen.”

Not just that. The reason why you asked for postponing rent payment was because the two of you had been too eager and too stubborn to ask anyone for money. Ending up only providing half of the rent for almost three months wasn’t something you did on purpose.

But while you should’ve been more cautious, to some degree, it wasn’t entirely your fault. You had more college debt than you could afford only half a year after moving to this apartment, and Jungkook’s earnings weren’t close to what you needed.

“I really don’t know.” Yeah. The man’s doubts are kind of valid.

“C’mon… You know us, Mister Choi,” Jungkook tries this time.

“That’s why–”

“You can…” You suddenly interrupt, only noticing how things might backfire once you’ve already said them. “You could end our lease if we don’t pay you what we owe you this time.”

You think you can quite literally hear Jungkook’s heart stop next to you. At least that’s what his wide eyed, confused stare suggests when he moves his head to you. He’s voicing something in silent hesitation, but Choi most likely doesn’t notice.

Because before Jungkook can throw in his own–probably very unsure–two cents, hand coming up, the landlord sighs. He shrugs his shoulders, mumbling your last names, contemplates for a second longer and then… Agrees.

“Okay,” he says with a not-my-problem-nod. “That’s an idea I can work with. This month’s and at least half of next month’s by the end of the upcoming month, alright?”

You hate the constant repetition of the frightening word month, but on the inside you still jump and clap in joy. Both your and Jungkook’s expressions light up, your feet shifting as though you’re about to jump Choi and tackle-hug him to the ground.

Instead, you only gasp, clearing your throat and cheer, “This is! More than we expected! Thank you so much. Thank you for real for real, seriously, wearesosuperth–”

A palm stops the fast flow of your gratitude, and he only shakes his head and bids you goodbye with a thumbs up before he disappears behind his door. You think you see a fond smile, but your happiness might just be inducing pictures.

But who cares anyway?

Phase One of Saving Money turned out successful.

–

Once you enter your humble apartment, tension releases out of your mouth with your sigh. You slip your bag off your shoulder and into the corner next to the entrance, shoulders dropping. Every second with the landlord took a year from your lifespan.

Jungkook, always happy-go-lucky, isn’t as demotivated and grumpy as you. His steps carry him to your kitchen without a second thought, immediately scavenging the small space for an easy meal.

“What do we do now?” You whine, leaning against the dining table.

The sun is still up and it will remain hanging in the azure blue sky for a few more hours. But you dread the darkness that will descend after – not because it scares you, but because it means you’ll have to light up rooms for ideal navigation.

But lighting them up means raising the numbers on your electricity bill.

Jungkook, however, doesn’t pay much mind to your shattering financial situation right now. He’s humming at the pots and seasoning he’s scattered around on the counter, calm as ever, because worrying about something he can’t change right now is not something he likes to do.

“First, we eat. Am starving,” he decides.

A slight shake of your head suggests frustration, but the grumble of your stomach agrees with him as though to remind you of feeding it. He side eyes you and smirks. “I’m not doing or talking about shit until you’ve eaten something.”

Of course. Caretaker first, friend second. If you’re not on the receiving end, you’re the one giving.

You push your butt off the dining table and choose to introduce Phase Two of your mission, telling him, “I think we’ve candles somewhere.”

The conversation changes at once when you release your suggestion into the air. Although you might argue you’re still stuck on the same issue, given the intention that lies behind your idea.

“Are we– Ouija board stu– again?” You hear Jungkook call from the kitchen, every other word chopped off and eaten by the sounds of pots and dishes.

“I’m not ever doing that with you again,” you exclaim back.

“Huh? Why not?”

“You were moving the planchette!”

Granted, there was kindness in his cheating. The evening drained you out of energy and left you a nervous mess, eager to speak to your favorite late grandaunty and her deceased dog. Neither Jungkook nor you believed in the magic behind the practice, but he made sure to soothe your nerves anyway.

You were pissed when you noticed what was going on – but once the anger subsided and gave way to the realization that he really cared, you fell asleep with a smile after all.

“I swear on my favorite hoodie that I didn’t,” he defends.

“Lying son of a bitch,” you whisper, laughing to yourself as you kneel in front of a cupboard storing a few dozen candles and other shenanigans.

You choose one scented, thick one for each room, and then a few smaller, regular ones that you think must do. With a handful of them, you return to the still bright living room, placing each one where you want it later tonight.

You’re serious about your candles – the tongue poking out, eyes squinting in concentration kind of serious. Arranged in a rational way, you beam at your artwork, impressed by your own idea as if it’s not something human beings used to do all the time.

“Seriously, you’re so easy to excite,” Jungkook always reiterates.

Once you join him in the kitchen, preparing not only a meal but spontaneously baking a treat too, time passes significantly faster. In hindsight, you didn’t do that much today, but somehow it still feels like you sailed the world.

You barely realize when several topics have shifted and the sun has disappeared. The moon hangs bright in the dark sky, the brisk gust blowing in through the open windows. It was a pleasant day of the week, even though you kept freezing at his touch even while cooking, and you’re ready to finish it just as lovely.

Only, it doesn’t end at dinner and the day’s exhaustion.

“Dessert tastes better in bed,” Jungkook tells you once you’ve done the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Since tidying up, you’ve suddenly become quieter than before and his eyes squint like they’re testing you.

“Okay? Then go and take it with you.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

He shrugs his shoulders, blowing a raspberry. “You’ll go and sleep already?”

“No, but…” You hum and think. It’s not that late just yet – and you don’t feel like tackling homework or any other taxing task tonight. “I do wanna eat dessert, too. Just thought we might chill in the living room.”

“I mean. Take it as an informal invitation to spend some time with me, but in my room. You don’t wanna?”

“Pervert,” you lightly hit his shoulder with a cloth when he winks. “Is that how you court other ladies?”

“Why, yes. What did you think?” He laughs when you shake your head dramatically, pulling your shirt back and further over your clavicles. “Nah, I was thinking of… Just chilling, really.”

It’s not the first time you’re joking in a way like this. It’d also not be the first time of you hanging out with him in his room, on his bed, giggling about stupid jokes or ridiculous cartoons. Or whatever.

But it’s one of the first times the thought renders you nervous. Like you’re perceiving him as more than your best friend just now, after all those years of harmless platonic cuddles.

When you don’t answer, he delivers another decisive argument. “My room is smaller. Less candles. More to spare for the next time!”

You’re not surprised that he sees through your little idea – rather baffled how easy it is for him to sway you. So you follow him to his minimalistically organized room, not one but two diffusers on his desk. The corner of your lips twitches.

The more you near his bed, the more your heart strikes. His mattress is soft and cozy, and Jungkook’s scent oozes from every inch of it. You feel engulfed in his presence so bad that the emotions of this noon and the last few weeks hit you like a brick.

“Wanna watch something, Pumpkin?” Jungkook asks once you’re draped in the comfort of his duvet.

He might never stop calling you that. Probably hasn’t let a day pass since elementary school when your mom and you decided to dress you as a damn pumpkin for Halloween.

“And waste precious battery life?” You scold with a cocked eyebrow. Your voice is quieter now that you’re cuddled in with him, but you try to maintain your cool.

Turning on the living room TV or light is out of the question anyway. No regular Thursday movie night this time. Blasting Disney’s version of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice for the hundredth time can wait.

With the no-technology-rule you established today, even unplugged devices shall remain for emergencies as long as possible.

“So we’ll act like it’s a full blown blackout, yeah?” He asks before he leans over you, pulling open the second drawer of his bedside cabinet to rummage through its content.

The small action forces your body backward, pushing you against the headboard so tight that your lungs fail. He looks unsuspecting, drenched in the warm light of the candles. You breathe him in unintentionally, and he smells of soap and cologne.

Wrapped in darkness next to him is already strange as it is, but it cannot compare to the oddness of how new his proximity feels.

You barely notice what he’s fished out until he waves it right in front of your frozen expression. An old deck of Uno greets your vision, the packaging as worn out as the cards that he pulls out.

He places them on his large palm before he begins shuffling them – staring at the smoothness he operates with makes you almost miss what he asks.

“Is that good enough, then?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool,” he holds the cards to your face once more. “Are we playing with seven or ten cards?”

“Take it up a notch,” your feeble voice allows. “Make it fifteen just for funsies.”

“Why did I know you’d say that?”

You shrug your shoulders, imperceptibly shifting away from the touch of his arms and hips. “Remember one thing, Jeon.”

“Yeh, yeh,” he taunts, his voice strained. He sounds as though his body is beseeching him to lay down and drift off – but something about the moment seems to be keeping him soberly awake. “I won’t let you win this time.”

Fifteen cards down on your lap, you lift your hands from under the blanket, pulling your set close to your face in utter distrust. You cock an eyebrow at the universe’s choice: Jungkook has either already broken his promise, or the gaming Gods have decided this round’s end already.

With the victory residing in your hands, his vow pretty much slips your mind immediately; it blends out how he still remembers your middle school matches. He really still recalls when you’d fume and burn – disappointed and livid when he’d reveal his picture-perfect deck, unused to accept defeat.

The game doesn’t even properly progress when the first argument of the night pops up. More than half your cards are still in your hands, both your words overlapping.

“Once you lay down a 4+ or color card, you’re not allowed to play again. It’s my turn,” you insist, his wrist in your firm grip as if he couldn’t break out of it whenever.

“I am allowed to play, though.” When he swings his hand, yours moves with him. Both your stances are upright, eyes blown wide and comically riled up. “Especially after a 4+. You're blocked.”

“This doesn’t sound right.”

“Look.” He slaps his cards with the logo upwards into his lap, sifting through the rest of the deck to draw out a yellow stop card. “Would you be able to play on if I hit you with that?”

“No, ‘course not.”

“And 4+ cards work the same way.”

You keep staring at the bright color, lost in thoughts and traveling back to a time when the world around you hadn’t altered every rule of every game you knew. But when no productive result flashes through your mind, you suggest something else.

“Google it, then.”

“You can’t just read the rules? Hold up,” he pulls out the instructions from the package, already fiddling with the paper. “I bet the answer is hidden somewhere in there.”

“Have fun. I can’t read in this darkness for shit.”

Relying on technology for a minute shouldn’t cause a cataclysmic event, so you type in the million dollar question plaguing both your mind, soon striking it rich when a video materializes on the page.

Too lazy to skim yet another amateur post, you decide to trust WikiHow’s explanation clip, hoping for a fruitful result. Jungkook soon gives up the task he bestowed upon himself, cuddling closer to your misery to watch with you.

“Are we serious?” He breathes, laughing off the peculiarity of the moment.

“Watching a video on Uno rules?” You ask, giggling in unison with him. “I fucking know. We’re seriously weird.”

“How long’s it been since we played games together like that?”

You can’t say for sure.

“When we got this place,” you assume. “Didn’t we spend half the night going through board and card games? Because–”

“Because there was nothing else to do. We were sitting on the ground on some shit ass mattress.”

You laugh. It’s been a while – time truly does pass when you’re stuck with someone. You don’t think you’d ever trade the memories you gathered here for anything good in the world. Piggyback rides and cooking mishaps are a delight to store in the depths of memory.

Or moments when you very clearly, very softly realize that you’re falling for your roommate bit by bit; so much deeper than when you were still kids. For him and his touch. His sensuality, even when it’s unintentional.

Like now.

Jungkook grabs his water bottle from his side of the bed as the voice of the narrator chimes. The background is a bright green and the animation weirdly cute, but you blend it out when he reminds you of the plushness of his lips again. Wrapped around the bottle head…

When you reach the wild card moment, both of your ears perk up before you erupt in simultaneous chaos. Jungkook half chokes as he attempts his one-syllable-argument.

“See!” He exclaims.

“See what? He said, if the player can’t play any of their cards, blah blah... Which, in our case, is me.”

“No, but what player? The one who had the wild card? Or the other?”

“Fuck it,” you curse, clicking away without finishing the last minute. “Another video. WikiHow sucks.”

“Why do I feel like we’re both right and wrong?”

You shake your head in defense and with a furrow between your eyebrows, but the dorky grin on his face pulls out your true, playful emotions in the form of a laugh.

The next clip you settle on goes on for longer, seemingly endless – allowing you enough time to peek at the smooth curves of his silhouette.

His lips are jutted and the moving pictures reflect in his eyes. His button nose begs to be booped. A small dimple appears when the tip of his tongue pushes through the seam of his lips to hydrate them.

You don’t think you’re as subtle as you’d like to be, though. Because soon, he’s looking up, causing a sudden flinch. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

He blinks at you slowly, one eyebrow briefly twitching. “Oh. Are you bored?”

“No! Why?”

“Are you okay, then?” Your tongue flits along the inside of your cheek, muscles stiffer than before. He eyes you up and down. “You’re so tense.”

“It’s just… Just weird,” you stutter. Hesitancy breaks the flow of your usually confident speech, and you flick your inner self’s forehead for the obvious awkwardness. “Sitting in the dark.”

What?

What the fuck.

You need to get yourself together and come up with a wittier response. If he just let you – because he prods, “Are you scared?”

“Wha– Do I look scared?”

“You don’t look normal, at least.”

“That’s rude,” you scold, letting the device fall onto the blanket. Numerous wrinkles decorate your forehead, hiding your true thoughts behind frisky surface-annoyance.

His next words do not freaking help.

“Girls usually like me in the dark.”

“That’s…” Heat of an exploding star warms your already blistering cheeks. “That’s pretty lewd of you to say. And unnecessary, too.”

You’re pouting like it’s the first day of sex ed. Innocence expands your pupils harder than the lack of light in this room. Jungkook can’t help it – fondness engulfs his heart. You’ve always been endearing to an immeasurable degree.

“You’re so cute,” he drops casually. He’s amused by the side eye you give him, laughing when you exhale and rub the sweat off your hands on the blanket. “But seriously, what’s up with you today?”

He nudges your shoulder as a joke, and you hate that years of friendship couldn’t prepare you for a dark, emotion-altering night like this. Hormones and an adult’s desires are the devil’s advocate as much as Jungkook is himself.

“Nothing!”

“Have I done something weird?”

“You’re always weird.”

His shocked gasp dramatizes the moment, lifting the tension in the air enough to overshadow your inept breathing. Any attempt to keep your chill could turn out futile any moment now.

“Fair,” he laughs. “But also rude.”

His soft palm sets upon your knee and the plea you utter to your mind to calm your nerves falls on deaf ears. At his touch, you flinch just a fraction… And immediately, he pauses.

His gaze skyrockets to your seemingly sinless one. Lips part in confusion before his expression changes – like a bulb has lit up in his mind.

And then, the biggest change in topic occurs.

“Could you give me my phone charger?” Lifting his device, he lights up the screen to show the red, drained battery bar. He points to the bedside cabinet again. “First drawer.”

Right.

Jungkook doesn’t keep his charger plugged in at all times like you do. Scared it might burn off. You didn’t expect less when you decided to move in with your best friend, though: Not from the boy who declared his fear of microwaves and their potential to melt dishes ages ago.

You open and hunt through the drawer, surprised at the half emptiness of it until your fingers graze something you might not have anticipated. And then you realize…

Ah. Oh.

What if…

Perhaps that was the plan all along. Because when you look back at him, he doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. The calmness in his eyes is telling enough to guess his intentions – but you don’t want to assume for sure yet.

Your touch remains on the little–open–box for a second, one sealed package peeking out. An absolutely fresh condom… One of Jungkook’s no less.

What’s happening today?

“What’s up?” He asks, and you almost huff at the stupid, fabricated innocence in his stupid, soothing voice.

“I think,” you lean back, attempting a laugh. “I just found your most prized possession.”

“Ah?” He waits, and you nod. “Is that weird to you?” A nonchalant shrug of your shoulders spurs him on, the tilt of his head perilous. “It’s not the first time you’re seeing those, right?”

Ugh, yeah. You remember all casual visits to drugstores. The vivid image of Durex’ extra large Excite Me, and true to Jungkook’s dedication dotted for extra stimulation.

He usually cares as much about embarrassment between the both of you as you do when you place pads and tampons between his stuff. Why is it weird, then?

“Yeah. It’s just…” You’re stumbling for words. Fuck. It’s over for you. “Reminds me of some of your escapades lately.”

Jungkook hums. “Mhm. There weren’t that many these days, though.”

“I know. Just made me think of those that did happen, y’know?”

“Okay.” He’s still looking at you like he’s solved every piece of the riddle you are tonight. Not any less shameless, though. “Then… What exactly is it that you’re thinking about those escapades?” Huh… There are too many details you’d need to omit in your answer. But the way his stare is stabbing questions into you as if he already knows what you might say?

Yep. You’re fucked.

“Now?” You ask.

“Right now.”

“Nothing.”

God, even he must be bored of the constant repetition. What does nothing still mean in reality? Everything. That’s how your inner translator interprets it, at least.

This time, Jungkook doesn’t let your response slip. His hand, however, does. Up from your knee… Right to your thigh.

The blanket still lays in between, its fabric pivotal for the moment. If it wasn’t there, you might faint. And something in you says that the experience isn’t far.

“Is that what it is?” Jungkook whispers. His voice is deeper now, and so is your sigh. “That must be what it is.”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been tense ‘cause of that? Since soccer training you’ve been looking at me like I’m suffocating you.” Shit. Of course he’d notice. “And now you suddenly feel weird about being close and about condoms? Do you just…” He digs his index finger into your thigh, his cut nail raking your leg with too many layers in between. “Just miss being touched?”

“By… By you?”

“No, Pumpkin. In general.” You don’t have an answer to his quizzing. Or, you do, but you don’t know where it might lead… Nervousness clogs your throat. “Don’t you…”

“What?” You think you can foresee what he’s going to ask, but you put on a curious act anyway. Then, he drops the bomb.

“Don’t you touch yourself?”

Oh God. Someone tell him to shut up. The little workers in your brain are setting your internal office on fire, handling his lax conversation worse than you.

“I’m…” You pause to breathe in shakily, and then laugh to hide your bewilderment. “Of course I do. Everyone does.” You clear your throat. “That’s a really freaking weird and sudden question, though.”

“Not that weird considering how you’ve been acting today. Thought it’s PMS, but you just called in sick ‘cause of your period last week.” Damn, Sherlock. Of course he’d remember – your whining wasn’t subtle after all. And he was the one serving you every meal all day. “So I’m guessing… It’s been a while and things are just worse tonight?”

“Dunno.”

You’re blinking at him. He’s built a Chinese-Wall-strong barrier at the front of his mind, and you can’t peek through it to understand what he’s thinking. Or what he wants. What he wants you to say or want.

It’s incredibly suspicious to you… And kind of tempting.

“Not gonna lie,” Jungkook’s voice drops to a low whisper, his confession worse than you expected. “I think I heard you a few nights before.”

You rip your eyes open in surprise. Your heart runs up to your throat to start hammering against your vocal cords, and for a few syllables, you can’t do much other than stutter and gasp.

“You fucking creep!” You then blurt out, calling yourself a hypocrite internally in the same breath. It’s not like you listened away during his adventures, legs pressed together to create friction.

“I’m sorry,” he lifts his hands in defense. “But you weren’t exactly being quiet. Plus, our walls aren’t that thin.”

You know… Hell, you know.

But how is he initiating the conversation just like that? God, the absolute courage…

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse. You bring your fingers to your eyes, rubbing them rather than hiding your entire face. “That’s fucking embarrassing.”

But Jungkook softly brings your hand down again – then speaks to reassure you. Only, anything he says tonight makes matters worse.

“Would it help if I told you it wasn’t embarrassing for me?”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“It just sounded…”

He procrastinates, his expressions calm but his eyes dangerous. Hooded.

“Bad?” You dig.

“No. It sounded hot.”

No. No, your heart and body can’t handle this. You might die if you don’t push his admissions into the most disbelieving corner of your brain.

Jungkook finds you hot? The sounds you couldn’t hide, he likes them? He means it?

“Shut the fuck up, I’m–” You begin, but he replaces your rebukes with a deep inhale and stiff muscles when he moves closer.

Your back presses against the bedside cabinet. Now that the flickering candle is melting down, its light is getting dimmer and the room darker. Bright enough to still make out his silhouette and most alluring features.

The phone has long fallen from between your fingers, hiding in the blanket and the video long over. Somehow, you’re glad you disabled autoplay – it doesn’t disturb the moment that’s clearly progressing to something dangerous.

But at the same time, you’re surprised as hell. Asking yourself silently over and over again, whatsgoingonwhatsgoingon.

“What are you doing?” You whisper.

“I’m just wondering.” His body is tilted, one hand still on your thigh. “When you do stuff to yourself… Is there something specific you think of?”

You shift a little, not answering. When he sees the surprise in your eyes and confuses it with fear, however, he backs away again and clicks his tongue. “My bad. Sorry for being like that.”

But you’re not letting him retreat now… Things have come too far. You place a hand on his arm and tug him closer subtly. His already big eyes look humongous now, positively delighted, even when you keep struggling with words.

“No, I just…” You try but fail as soon as you start.

“Why are you stuttering like that? That’s not you.”

You wish he was wrong. You’re more confident than this in any other moment. Crazy what one Jeon Jungkook’s touch can do.

You swallow hard, delivering a mental slap before pieces of your courage resurface again.

“This is new to me,” you tell him.

“What is?”

“The way we’re talking to each other. It’s not nothing…” You look down to seek the emoji on his middle finger, barely recognizable in the darkness. “And you’re… You’re good looking, Jungkook.”

“Yeah,” he agrees cockily, but you know his humility enough to understand he doesn’t mean it. Those are shameless teases, nothing more. “And?”

“You’ve always been good looking. And on top of that, I can always hear how you sound when you…”

Should you really go there? What if it damages something? Then again, it’s too late now anyway.

“When I…?” He tries.

“I kinda don’t wanna say it, and I know you know what I mean.”

“Ah, right,” Jungkook casually confirms, like he’s just realized what you might be pointing at. “When I fuck someone’s brain out.”

You suck in a breath.

“Don’t say it like that!”

“How do you want me to say it?” Jungkook taps his chin with his finger. He looks like a sly anime college crush. “I kindly empty their thoughts.”

“Shut up.”

“And rearrange their guts–”

“Oh my God, I’ll–”

Do what? Your own guts are pleading for a good, nasty and disrespectful mess. Wobbly pudding on his bed, your body is already melting at the mere thought… So you can’t imagine what actual ferity could do if he unleashed it.

Unknowing what to say, you look away, moving back like a proper idiot. But suddenly, pressure wraps around your wrist, fingers pulling you into him. You look at him speechlessly, parting your lips when he looks down at them.

“Is there something you want me to do?” He asks.

There’s a myriad of things you want him to do. But there’s slight doubt knocking against the walls of your brain and – ugh…

“Is it okay for us to do such a thing?” You question back.

“I don’t know,” he confesses quietly, his breath pleasant against your lips. “Say no just once and I promise I’ll back away.”

“And… And if I don’t?”

“Answer first.” He tilts his head, big eyes too pure and sweet for the conversation going on. “Or… Well, don’t.”

You remain silent. Hot blood turns your face as warm as a grill, and you look at him and his smile. Your heart rebels in your throat, but your thoughts are sober. So once he sees the clearness in your stare, he understands.

“Alright.”

It’s the last word he whispers before his hand wanders up your pajama pants. He fiddles with the neat knot holding your pajama around your waist, playing with it for a moment until patience runs out.

Soft fingertips tug at the end of the strings until the hem of the pants loosens around you. His eyes shoot up to yours, hiding menacingly behind his bangs. You don’t know what for–perhaps for permission–but you nod.

“Can you lift a bit for me?” His voice is soothing, calm and lovely when he utters his demand as a question. If you listen closely, you hear the desire, though.

You raise your ass, letting him slip the pajama down your thighs. When your body presses back into the mattress, your hands move to his face, making him look at you. The front of his tongue darts out, trapped between his teeth and his eyes are dark and starry. Lost in you.

His teeth let his tongue go, sliding it across his lower lip… Goddammit, you want to taste it.

When he skims over your panties and now bare thighs, your eyes blink close. He watches and adores your reaction; skims your dampness below. Jungkook acts as fuel, even though you’re already incredibly flammable.

The hums that accompany your slight wiggle are gentle, contrasting the losing of your mind going on in your head.

“More?” He wants to know.

“Mhmmm.”

“Okay. Good, Pumpkin.”

You’d smile at the ridiculous childhood endearment if the moment wasn’t so sinful. If he wasn’t grazing your pelvis, causing goosebump as he goes, pulling at the thin fabric until you lift once again.

He chuckles, a sound that reaches deep within your chest. “Good girl. Learning fast.”

Is he serious?

He can’t just drop a good girl like that as if he’s announcing a brief walk through a nearby park. What the fuck.

“Stop it,” you mutter, unaware why exactly.

“Want me to stop? We’re just starting,” he chants, his pout playfully childish and cute.

But the fingers. Oh the fingers rounding the skin right over the sensitive nub. Playing with you like you’re his own personal doll, wrapping you around his skillful, strong and incredibly beautiful fingers.

His touch drops deeper when you whisper an inaudible wish; whatever it is, he thinks he knows what you want. Featherlightly, he presses down on your clit, and you cry out quietly.

You fall back against the headboard again, your hands in his hair and tugging at the strands at the nape of his neck. One blink of his eyes passes and he’s snaking an arm under you, pulling you down and flat onto your back.

“You alright, yeah?” Jungkook makes sure, elated when you nod enthusiastically. “Good. Very good.”

His face is close to yours but doesn’t remain there: As he caresses your clit, shaking up your lower belly, his mouth dives in and finds home between your tits. He breathes you in before he presses a kiss against the shirt hiding your skin.

“Jungkook…”

“Mmmh.” He looks up at your chin, your head thrown back. “Say, Pumpkin…” He blows at your left nipple, well aware that you never wear a bra at home, and watches it perk under the shirt. Then, his teeth catch the material before he lets go and speaks on. “May I see those pretty tits of yours?”

“Nnnh,” is all you can give back. “Yes.”

Happily, the unoccupied hand lifts the white tee until he touches the underside of your boobs; his touch covers something you reckon he might enjoy. With his face hovering over yours, you wonder how long it will take him to notice.

Nothing yet at least.

His hand pauses there and then lifts the shirt over your mounds. He palms one of them, relishing your mewls. The sigh lets his voice fall some more, enticing when his mind numbing talk continues, “Hello there, girls.”

Jesus fucking Christ…

Why is this so hot to you?

His hair tickles your clavicles before his tongue does the same to your hard nubs. Wrapping his lips around your nipple, he pulls at it, then releases it to repeat it all. All while his fingers float down to your hole.

And then…

Palms pushing your thighs apart under the crumbled up blanket, he doesn’t wait another second before he drops to his side next to you and dips his middle finger inside. Slowly at first, easing you into the process, but it does nothing to avoid the sudden term that falls out of you.

“Fuck, baby, this is–”

You realize your mistake–mistake?–when his finger halts mid action. But once he proceeds, lifting his head to kiss your jaw, you don’t see a single trace of embarrassment or shame. No, he rather jumps onto the train with you.

“Easy, kitten.”

The new nickname forces your head to fall sideways to face him – your lips come to touch, but he doesn’t take it a step further. His eyelids fall half close, mouth not moving against yours; but you can’t really kiss anyway with the way he urges moan after moan out of you.

His finger starts pumping in and out of you, your walls contracting around him. There’s thought in his actions. He doesn’t just push in and pull out like a wildling – no, the curve of his digit, the tempo he chooses and the patch he massages inside you must be calculated.

Adding a second finger does nothing but amplify this feeling.

In his hold, you’re a little less squirmy than you might be without his touch. He keeps you grounded, controlling the wiggle of your body, allowing you to bite into your fist until he grabs your wrist and pushes it against the mattress.

“Nuh-uh,” he warns. Your eyes crack open a slit. “Stop muffling your sounds. Why would you?”

“I’m just…” You shake your head. “Self-conscious… Okay?” God, words are hard. “Y’don’t see me naked… Every day.”

“Absolutely outrageous if you ask me,” he breathes, knuckles deep inside you. There, he remains, merely moving his fingers inside without pulling out anymore. You hide half your face in the pillow. “Fuck, look at me.”

The danger and irritation in his voice sober up a piece of your mind, but the sudden emptiness when his fingers vanish shake you awake with a snap. An utterly wet touch trails along your thigh and then up your sides. He doesn’t give a fuck about the state of his blanket.

Letting go of your wrist, he pushes aside the fallen phone that his ass touches, and stops with everything altogether. Reaches behind him and then shoves the device to a far top corner of the bed.

“That’s good,” Jungkook whispers once he’s cozy with you again. Watching your breathing, dizzy form. “We don’t have to charge the phone and waste electricity that way, right?”

“Shut up…” is all your brain and tongue allow.

He clicks his tongue. “Alright, you killjoy.” A sudden slap to your overflowing pussy renders you speechless. But not him. “I’ll use my mouth elsewhere then, k?”

You’re still a mess in disbelief. Can’t comprehend that he’s actually saying those words in this exact constellation. You might think you’re dreaming if the squeezes of his hands and the dampness of his tongue didn’t prove you otherwise.

Crawling down your body, he makes sure to ruin every patch of your skin. He licks along your collarbones and gently bites at your tits. His palms love the feeling of your chest, nails digging in… And he only stops when he reaches a very particular something.

You feel his movements freeze clearly. He smacks his lips, and when you look at him, he looks surprised. Delightfully so.

“What’s that?”

There it is.

He watches your lips curl to a satisfied smile and your eyelids shut as he brushes his finger over the spot under your tits. Squinting, he removes more of the blanket, hoping the dim light of the candle might allow him a deeper look.

The black color isn’t as faded as the ink on his hand or arm, so it must be a recent sin you went for. You hum in innocence, opening your eyes again to barely catch the shake of his head as he repeats his question.

“What is that, huh?” He exhales the last word, breathing against you. Then kisses the skin underneath the tattoo. “You weren’t even gonna tell me about it?”

“Figured you might find out one day…”

He laughs quietly, hiding his fascination. But you know he’s still mesmerized, staring at the little thing, distracted even when he responds. “Is that so? You tease.”

Dipping down, an open mouthed kiss lands on top of your tattoo. His hands push your tits together, his mouth working on worshiping the tiny piece of skin that has captured him. His kiss is greedy to the touch, his breaths cold against the saliva he left once he lifts his face again.

“A crown, yeah? That what it is, isn’t it?”

The pleasant satisfaction in his voice is apparent, but you think you even hear bits of irritation – like he’s annoyed that you didn’t tell him about this. Like he’d dove into you earlier if you had.

“Hey, a lil feeling of royalty is never…” You stop when he pecks your tummy. His lips run along your stomach until they reach your pelvis. “Ohhhfff… You’re close.”

“I’ll keep going, alright?”

You let out more incoherent sounds, something between a moan and a hum. The anticipation is unbearable, but the fact that Jungkook is still fully dressed and his cock yet aching to be discovered by you might be worse.

With the blanket fully off of you, his lips explore your body, so close to where you want him. His right hand still lingers where the tattoo is eternalized in your skin, and according to his next words, his mind isn’t less hung up on it, either.

“Your tattoo matches mine, y’know?” He informs you as if you haven’t seen the crown on his index finger a few million times. The digit that’s digging into your hungry cunt again, along with another finger showcasing an emoji that must be looking like you right now. “We can both be royalty, don’t you think, princess?”

“My God, shut up,” you order. Your insides cringe, even though you’re sure you wouldn’t be opposed to him calling you that godforsaken nickname once again.

His giggle is Jungkook-ish sweet, but the hands that pry your legs open are not. Less even when he pushes them down onto the mattress as much as your joints allow, distracting you from the pull of your muscles when his nose nuzzles your pelvis.

The tip of his tongue touches your sacred part first. It’s just a slight dip, testing the waters. But your ocean is wild and its waves crash against the pit of your stomach.

“Didn’t think you’d be responsive right away,” he admits, only pausing to place a gentle kiss on your clit. “Then again, I haven’t seen a dude at our place in ages.”

“Asshole,” you curse, eliciting another deep snicker that vibrates right against your cunt.

Then, the jokes end and his stance changes. He takes a deep breath and then lowers his head once and for all. Leaving a trace of kisses riles you up enough, though things only get worse once his tongue darts out, starting a gentle dance in a captivating pattern.

He collects spit on the muscle in his mouth, pulling out the fingers out of you to spread your folds. Watching your pussy shimmer and leak, he laps up the arousal meant for just him. His cock stretches his favorite joggers, and he moves his hips against the bed for relief.

Buried deep, he moves to your clit to close his lips around it for a moment before he french kisses your pussy. Then, he repeats it all – only this time, the tip of his tongue moves in a perfect circle around your sensitive nub for a bit longer.

Slowly, softly, and then he stops.

“Wait…” you interrupt, blindly grabbing a patch of his hair. “Do that again. Please.”

The hushed desperation in your voice makes his sweatpants strain impossibly. His balls already ache.

“Like that?”

“Yeah… Yep.”

You arch your back and let your mouth fall open when his fingers return inside you, tongue imitating the motions from before. For a while, your moans and uncontrolled, quiet, peaceful sounds motivate and inflame him.

But once he begins yearning for your taste again, he swaps. His curved digits pull out of you, thumb taking his mouth’s place and vice versa. Which feels… Just as dangerous.

His tongue presses into you, a hand shoving up your right, closing leg. Your thigh stiffens when it feels his fingers deep in your flesh, and when it relaxes again, it falls over his shoulder and onto his back softly.

Zealously, you plant your heel against his shirt, trying not to think about the muscles of his back too hard. Yet, drowning in fervor, you can’t help but push his shirt up, irritated that he’s still wearing so damn much when you’ve already exposed the last of your being to him.

He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t acknowledge your hints yet. Because his focus is still somewhere else – understandably so.

“I knew you’d taste like that,” he confesses when he surfaces to take a breath.

He knew?

You’re panting more than him. Speaking comes to you harder than to him. “Like what?”

“Like absolute heaven,” he exhales at your waterfall-sex, hot and shiver inducing. “Pussy gifted by the angels.”

Oh, you bet he says that to everyone…

“Please don’t treat me like one, though,” you beg.

“Like an angel? Don’t worry. I fear you’re far filthier than I might expect.”

When his words collide with his repeated actions, your eyes water. You whine at the onslaught on your pussy, squirming, and shake your head when your insides somersault.

“I… I don’t think I can anymore,” you foolishly say.

Your ears seem to block out any sound, your body revolting. The pressure in your stomach is intense, to say the least. Your fingers and toys surely don’t feel that way.

“It feels like that because you can. I promise,” Jungkook, however, assures.

“This is the… I’ve never…”

It’s true. You’ve never had a build up or an orgasm like this before. Of course not: How could you if he’s drinking in every drop of the arousal dribbling out of you while rendering you wetter at the same time?

He sounds so goddamn lewd when he makes out with your cunt like that. Too filthy… You wonder how his lips will feel against yours if he’s able to do such magic down below already.

“It’s gonna be good… Okay?”

He’s wrong. Good is an absolute understatement.

The force with which your orgasm hits is worse than being run over by a truck. You internally slap everyone in your past who missed to make you feel that way.

You implode and explode, a swarm of cacophonic sounds oozing out of your mouth. You grab his sheets and his blanket so hard that the thoughts in the back of your head fear you might rip something.

Jungkook groans and moans along with you, his mouth and fingers attached to you no matter how much you move. A single tear flees between your shut eyelids, arousal not stopping to trickle out of you.

You’re still calling his name once the high comes down… Still holding the sheet, your vision still blurry. He licks and rides you through the end of the blast for a few more seconds. And when he’s done and you look at him, he’s covered in a shimmer.

Such a pretty boy.

“Hey,” he whispers joyfully once he comes up. “Hello.”

“Hey. You, jail,” you breathe.

You don’t waste a moment before you take off his shirt, eager and hungry. He laughs, cocking an eyebrow. “Why jail? Did I give you a bombastic orgasm or what?” He moves to lay half on top of you and licks his lips. “Shouldn’t I get free lap dances or something?”

“Jail for not doing this earlier.”

“Ah. Apologies. I’ll be at your service whenever from now on.”

The vow makes your tummy flutter. From now on? So he wants to do that again?

Nah. You must be dreaming. A fall night's fever dream.

“Good,” you mutter before you close the distance mutually.

He cages you in, beginning the kiss softly but urgently. His tongue doesn’t hesitate to seek out yours, and he tilts his head to deepen the gesture. Both your hands wander to the other’s face and hair, lips eating up each and every thrum.

His chest is warm against yours, hard pecs pressing against your nipples. It feels good, feeling him so close and intimate with you. No layers separating your upper bodies, melting into one… And that kiss…

As he pours all passion into it, you think you taste a bit of you on him, but said taste mingles with a lot of other things. The spices of dinner. The lingering sweetness of dessert. His thirst. The ardency that refuses to leave his motions.

“Hey,” he mumbles when he breaks the kiss. “I…”

“Hmm?”

“I really want you. So, so bad.”

The carnal desire is hidden in the moment for sure. But right now, listening to the softness in his voice, all you can and want to hear is unbridled longing.

Insatiable, you nod. “I want you, too. Please?”

“You… You don’t need to beg for it, Pumpkin.” His hips move against yours and you wrap your legs around him tighter. “Seriously, no need–”

His joggers are rough against your swollen pussy, but their harshness doesn’t compare to the thick bulge pushing into you. Moving down your wandering fingers, you push at the remaining clothing, shoving until you feel the bare, firm, muscular ass under your palms.

Hell, there’s so much you want to do. Like, slap it.

Lifting a little, he lets you free his cock, his sweatpants and underwear somewhere a little over his knees now. You’re ready to let him fuck you unconscious and into another universe before you realize you might not be all that ready just yet.

Because the throbbing, hot length falls heavy against your stomach. It’s thick and big and entirely unexpected. Not that he’s never boasted about it before or ran around without underwear beneath his pajamas. But fuck, you thought it’s the usual shit men say.

You didn’t think he was actually hiding something this… Generous.

“Wow, I–” You begin, but to no avail. Your screaming pussy distracts you.

“Huh? Yeah, what is it?” Jungkook purrs against your neck.

“Just. Can I…”

Your hand prowls from his ass to his cock, and you begin to guide it to your pussy slowly, opening up your legs more. Okay. You’re ready. You are. You are.

Only, Jungkook is not.

He shakes his head immediately, then nods towards the drawer inhabiting the condoms. You understand and roll your eyes, scoffing. “I wasn’t gonna do it anyways. But I’m… I am on the pill.”

“Yes. But you also forget to take it a lot.”

“Fair.” God, you just want him to drill you. Why’s starting so hard? “But I’m fine.”

“I am, too.” He groans when he moves over you, reaching to the drawer. “Still.”

You watch as he takes the package out, the foil carefully held between his fingertips. And in those brief seconds, you think.

His last hook up wasn’t so long ago. You wonder if he ever goes in raw with other girls… Wonder why he doesn’t with you but insists on protection. Less like he doesn’t trust you but more like he doesn’t trust himself.

You don’t ponder on your bumbling thoughts for too long before he smiles and sidetracks. “Hey, have you showered?”

“No. Why?” You answer, certain that the furrow of your eyebrows lays your confusion bare.

“You said you needed to.”

“And?”

“It’s gotten warm inside.” Aha… You think you know where this is going. But just for fun’s sake, you play dumb. “I still need my proper shower, too, by the way.”

“Okay… But we’re saving up on water, right?” You stare up at him in innocence. Godgodgodgod. He’s really doing that.

Jungkook slaps your ass, and you yelp. “Don’t play stupid. You know what I’m saying.”

“Kook–”

“What? We clean up together… Save water. I don’t have to shower again in the morning and can sleep in. It sounds like an amazing idea, if you ask me.”

You contemplate his idea. In all honesty, you know that he’s aware of your teasing and fake hesitation – but you think he likes the act. If it was up to him, he’d probably want you tapping your chin and all, cartoonesque.

“You do shower long…” You then conclude.

“Yeah. And so do you.”

“So…”

“So what do you say, Pumpkin Pie?”

“Mmmh. Okay.”

His eyes blow wide. “Really?”

You grimace at him. He’s adorable. After all he’s said and done, he’s still astonished at your response? An actual dork. But you still nod.

“Oomph,” he says. “Imagining you under the shower.” He’s talking more to himself than anything. “Might be just a bit more insane than imagining you naked in general.”

More than a decade of being friends and a couple of years of living together should’ve suggested at least once that thoughts can’t stay pure 24/7. Especially when hormones raged and you grew a pair of tits, you should’ve known his mind derailed a little on at least one occasion.

Still, you’re surprised.

“Did you imagine me naked before?” You wonder.

“Are you kidding me?”

The answer shoots out of him like a bullet, almost as fast as he lifts his body to come to a stand. You don’t bother about an answer when he grabs the condom and something else, then offers you a hand, pulling you up butt naked before guiding you to the bathroom.

“Calm down,” you joke. One hand covers your nipples, even though you’re not sure why. What’s done is done already, and you can’t and don’t want to burn the image of you exposed from his mind.

“Too late.” Once in front of the bathroom, he stops, lifting a finger. It’s funny how casual your conversation is and how naked you are. “Wait here.”

Twenty seconds pass, and he returns with two candles in his hands, planting and lighting them up on the washing machine. This idea better not backfire.

The small room is cooler than his own, and the porcelain sink he pushes you against when you enter, placing the condom and the small bottle he brought at the edge of it, is even worse.

You shiver and hiss before his fingers grip your chin. He pulls your face to his own, bringing your hand to his crotch as his kiss catches your breath.

His warm, towering cock twitches in your palm, making you moan into his mouth. You attempt to unify your bodies, shifting closer, but he keeps pushing you backwards. Your back arches over the sink, and the kiss stops, his lips opening yours, suffocating against you.

“You’re so fucking hot, you know?” He maffles, stepping back but not without pulling you along.

You can’t wait to step back into his room later to investigate where your discarded clothes lay.

For now, you smile, delighted when his lopsided smirk matches yours. He kisses the tip of your nose before he draws a deep breath. Brings the both of you into the shower and then lets hot water rain down on you.

The liquid burns hot on your shoulder first, and Jungkook exclaims something incomprehensible as he regulates the temperature pouring out of the faucet. The procedure remains calm and quiet, unusual for a bickering pair like you.

But once he gets soaked under the water, shaking his hair out of his eyes just to push it back with his hands… You can’t keep your mouth shut anymore.

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

He puts a hand on your waist and the other on your cheek, stepping closer carefully. For a second, you think he looks at you like nothing else in the universe matters.

Your stomach bubbles… Your heart pounds.

“Hmm… Yeah?”

“I imagined you,” you tell him. “Us… Like that before, too.”

“Really? How?” He whispers back. Your vision is blurry – you don’t know if it’s the water’s or the moment’s craze’s fault.

All you know is that you want to remember his touch on your face, the shower warming your chest, trickling into your soul.

He keeps brushing back your drenched tresses lovingly and softly. You almost forget how to act purely horny, enabling tenderness and feelings until your nipples press against his torso and his cock moves against you again.

“I feel like you’d enjoy,” you near his ear, breathing, “sucking on my tits as much as I would.”

He grins.

“I’m more of an ass guy, though.”

On cue, he grabs a handful of your rear, pulling out a weird sound out of you that you regret immediately. He doesn’t bother as much as you. He’s busy staring at your lips and getting familiar with your ass.

“Right,” you say, distracted by the (intentional?) movements of his cock. You want to… You really want to… “Can I– can I suck you, ass guy?”

The embrace around you loosens up. According to his expression, he probably didn’t predict your question; but you think a man with a dick like his should expect that everyone wants to suck him dry.

But anyways–

Perhaps his surprise is a good thing, because the way his mouth drops open when you bring your hand to his shaft is priceless.

“Wow,” he expresses under his breath. “I’d be fucking stupid to say no, right?”

“Yes. I’m pretty good at this.”

You wrap your fingers and palm around his hardness, twisting your hand and alternating the pace. Your thumb runs over his slit, tempted to taste what already leaks out. One smile is all he gets before you choose to drop to your knees instead. Sacrificing their flawless state.

He shifts to the wall until his back hits its coolness, speechless when you look up at him, trying your hardest not to ogle at the delicious cock angry in front of you, and then stretch out your tongue.

You press it to the underside of his cock, making sure he feels you breathing, and then you shove his member into your mouth before it can slap back against his stomach.

Holy fuck, he really is hard.

“I believe you…” He says, his breaths rigid. “Barely doing anything, but it’s…”

So good.

First, you focus on the head. Swirling your tongue around it, you hum, hearing him hiss above you. You do your best, but you don’t know just how much you actually affect him.

Because from above, Jungkook’s point of view is something he doesn’t think he could even dream of. The sounds of you quietly gagging and slurping, constantly moaning and vibrating around him rile him up. The fact that you’re struggling to control your breathing, because you’re too immersed, apprehensive to stop.

And your lips, God, your lips, they wrap around him perfectly. He wonders what it’d look like if you were wearing lipstick, or how your non-waterproof mascara would run down your cheeks if he fucked your mouth.

You pull him out to catch a breath, using the pause to stroke him lightly. Leaning closer, you take a moment to rub the tip against your nipple – he seems to like it, because the bite of his lip is firm.

Then, you move your gentle touch to his balls and speak. “Is that alright?”

“I… alright?” He croaks, furrowing his eyebrows. “How about you suck me dry every fucking day, huh?”

“If I’m allowed to.”

You laugh a little, inhaling through your nose before you dive in again. This time, you let him in as much as you can take. Small fireworks explode on your tongue when his precum touches it, his cock twitching more between your lips as you suck harder.

“You are… Fuck, of course you are…” He permits, throwing back his head. Tattooed digits sneak into your hair, and when he pulls your head back, you disconnect from his cock with a plop sound. “But pause for now, k? Wanna fu–”

He can’t speak, so you guess you succeeded. But you get it… You’d rather he fucked you too instead of coming in your mouth.

A hand wrapped around your neck gently pulls you up to your feet. His jaw is clenched and sharp, and his eyes are piercing. He looks so fucking hot wet like that, drawing out his tongue to run it between his lips.

His mouth lures you in automatically, your gaze frozen on it and already imagining his taste. But he’s a step ahead–though in another twisted way–when he turns you around without a warning.

He pins your tits against the wall and tugs at your hips until you’re angled just right for him. Then, he leans in to voice one single order. “Stay like that.”

His wish is your command, anytime.

Panting, you let the water pour onto you, waiting. The small bottle he brought, undoubtedly lube, is placed in the shower caddy next to you, and before you can blink twice, you hear a package ripping open.

“Hurry,” you beg, recognizing the amused chuckle you definitely expected.

“Chill,” he says. “Gimme just a moment, princess.”

“Stop.”

Another sneer, more apparent complications, but in the meantime he distracts you with words that leave you unstable. “Fuck, I wish I could go in just like that.”

You want to say he can. But you don’t want to risk another rejection like before… Your heart and ego can only take this much.

For now, you push the thoughts aside, only focusing on the fact that you’ll be railed by Jeon fucking Jungkook. That he’s turned you around to finally weaken your knees, to batter your pussy, that you’ll actually be having sex with him in no time.

Or whenever he figures out a solution to his problem.

He turns away the showerhead and curses at the condom or whatever, and you laugh, still bent in an uncomfortable position.

“Harder than you thought, huh?” You joke.

As a response, he exhales, then grabs your waist as he delivers a verbal answer. “My dick or putting this shit on? Because yeah.”

Apparently, dealing with the condom wasn’t too impossible after all. Because once it’s done, his hands are on you again, one pulling you in further by your hip while the other spreads your pussy folds.

Then, his fingers disappear, grabbing the bottle of lube to fiddle with the liquid and placing it back in no time. You can hear the sounds that smearing it onto his dick causes.

And then you hear it even worse when he brings those exact digits back to your cunt. He contributes the rest of the lube by rolling his fingertips around your entrance and then pumping into you a couple of times. You moan out, and impatience grows faster.

“Okay,” he says, his voice still steady. “You tell me to stop if it ever hurts, alright?”

You nod, and he whispers, “Perfect.”

And then, it happens.

And it takes ages.

Not really due to hesitation or anything like that, but more because the cock intruding your walls just doesn’t stop. The shaft, rich in thickness and length, penetrates you deep, already overwhelming, and you’re sure he isn’t even halfway through.

“That enough?” He asks.

You shake your head. No. You don’t think anything will ever be enough, no matter how intense and mind numbing things become. More, you want all of him.

“More,” you repeat, speaking out loud.

“Seriously…?”

Yeah. You’re as much in disbelief as him. But your body – it knows what it’s pleading for, what signals it’s sending to your brain and then to your tongue.

“Please,” you beg. “I’ll tell you if I feel uncomfortable. I promise.”

A groan. A deeper push. He fills you to the brink, engulfed by you perfectly. The ideal lock to his key… Everything inside you tingles and aches.

When he’s bottomed out, he shifts and you feel the movement inside you. Mewling, you whisper his name, his ears perking up as his already drained voice calls back to you.

“Move?” He wants to know, his entire sentence abandoned.

“Move.”

So he does.

Long, slow, languid and careful strokes. He pants behind you. The shower water is still a bit too hot, but it doesn’t compare to whatever the fuck he’s kindling inside you.

Whenever he returns back deep, you lose your mind a bit more. And whenever he notices, his pace fastens by a tiny, tiny fraction. Until restraint becomes a foreign concept.

“Fuck, I wish I could…” His sentence breaks as much as you do when his hips meet yours. “Wish I could keep the imprints of your hands on the wall forever.” He thrusts into you hard once, hands pushing up your ass. “Wish I could see you pressed against it.”

He leans forward, his wet chest touching your soaked back. Kissing your cheek and neck, you slip into the craze only he can call forth. Fucked by him in the flickering candlelight, romantic for a fly on the wall, but sickeningly filthy in reality.

You’re a fool, because the thought of romance rests in the back of your mind right now – so you add to the already established sins when his hand brushes your neck.

“Jungkook…” You purr.

His movements slow down at the call of his name. You reach out an arm and turn the stream of water off – after all, you’re here to save the environment and yourself. That you’ve barely been focusing on showering is neither your fault.

Jungkook doesn’t question whatever you do. You don’t think he cares much about his surroundings anyway, everything around him is blurred but you. His lips still roam your shoulder when he shoves himself inside you balls deep and then pauses there.

You whisper his name again, drawing out another deep hum right next to his ear, and then spit it out.

“Choke me.”

You wonder. If you hadn’t turned off the water, would it have frozen to ice, too?

Because the wall and the room suddenly cool down and you swear he’s stopped breathing. You press your underarms and your forehead to the wall, eyes closing and asking yourself whether you made a mistake.

But… But maybe not.

In the next moment, Jungkook suddenly laughs a little, quiet but enticing enough to make your scalp tingle. He pushes the hair out of your face and your neck, slowly tracing your skin downward until he touches the spot over your vocal cords.

His fingers lift your head, breaking the contact to the wall. Gently rubbing your jaw with his thumb, he starts wrapping a huge hand around your neck… Silently at first before he finally answers.

“Shit, you’re so much dirtier than the good girl I know.”

No matter how simple the sentence, something in it awakens ambiguity in you. The realization that you’ve successfully surprised him. And at the same time, the urge to remain his good girl.

You want to be all of it for him; want to be the only object of affection for him.

“Can tell you the s-same.” You gasp when he squeezes the sides of your neck, just below your jawline. “This isn’t–” Biting your lip, you pause, distracted by his palm. “Not what puppy eyed boys should be doing.”

He lifts your body wordlessly, only laughing at your words in delight. Still sunken inside you, he straightens your posture just a bit, careful to not apply any kind of pressure to your windpipe. He knows what he’s doing – sex couldn’t be safer with anyone else.

At least that’s what you know, judging the choking experiences you’ve gathered with other men or women so far.

He leans into you, kissing your temple as he hammers into you again. The squeezes around your neck differ: His motions follow a varying pattern; your veins pulsate.

You imagine his clenched jaw or his furrowed eyebrows. The furious look on his face that doesn’t really suggest anger but blissful pleasure. You imagine his teeth trapping his lower lip, dimples on his cheeks, wet dark hair restricting his vision.

All that combined with all the godless things he says.

“I can’t believe we haven’t done this before… But…”

A sharp thrust pushes you forward, and one of your hands reaches behind you to grip his hip. Good God, he’s so fucking large. Human anatomy and logic aside, he must be battering your guts along with your pussy.

“But I knew I’d fuck you one day.”

Oh.

He has no remorse. He’s either too trapped in you to notice what he’s doing to you or he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Either way, your faltering soul can barely still handle him.

“You fucking devil,” you only respond.

And the devil has the audacity to leave your neck to slap your tits. How dare.

You yelp and your sound continues when he pinches your nipples, soft at first before his nips become harder. Defenseless in his grip, your knees almost buckle, especially when he talks to you again.

“My God, you’re letting me do fucking anything I want.”

“It’s… It’s the dick,” you tell him, already embarrassed. “Too good.”

“Ah? Thanks.” Letting his hands drop from your sensitive tits, he finds your clit again – you think you might cry. “Little reward for being so good for me?”

You want him to elaborate, but you soon learn what that reward consists of anyway.

He caresses your clit slowly and gently, accompanied by occasional light slaps. No rest for the wicked seems to be his motto today, not that you can complain.

Because a minute later, his fingers combined with the reckless, now fast paced plunges throw your world into chaos once more. You scream out his name, barely able to breathe. “Kook, I’m… I–”

“I know. Let go for me, Pumpkin. You’re all good, okay?”

His promises and soft reassurances make you fall harder into the fondness you already feel for him. If there was ever a point of return, he’s annihilated it once and for all now.

Who are you to doubt him? So you let another mind blowing orgasm wash over you. It rolls in hard, showing in your broken moans and curling fingers. He holds you up on your melting legs, an arm around your tummy.

“Hold on for me,” he snarls against your cheek, and you try. You really try your best, but your body’s giving up, trembling at the peak’s intensity that’s shaking up your insides. “Gonna cum, too…”

One more. You can afford one more indecent idea.

“Cum on my ass, Kook.”

“Fucking hell, baby.”

That’s all. That’s all he needs.

No hesitation in sight, he steps back and out of you, angling your body again by pulling your ass back as much as possible. The condom falls somewhere next to you – you see it from the corner of your eyes before you hear the way Jeon Jungkook climaxes.

Which is: With extra guttural groans, a quivering breath, fingers digging deep into the flesh of your butt and–what you realize when you look back at him–with super uncontrolled pumps of his cock.

“Fuuuuck,” he moans when his seed shoots hot onto your bottom.

It takes a few seconds for him to empty himself completely, and he keeps swearing, keeps saying something you barely understand.

But what you do understand, even though you’re absentmindedly focusing on his fingers spreading the cum on your back, is, “Gonna punish you for being so fucking hot one day.”

“That a promise?” You ask, still breathless.

He laughs. “Brat.”

The whole affair ends almost the way it started: Carefully and slowly, bickering thrown in here and there. But aside from the obvious fact you’re showering together, still so, so naked, there are more differences you notice when he lets the water run again to clean you up properly.

Like, his look. A smile you haven’t seen before, you think.

Very soft touches along your cheeks, fingers combing through your hair like you’re something fragile.

Questions such as, “Are you okay? Was that okay? Do you feel good, Pumpkin?”

Also… The hecking forehead kiss when you smile and nod.

The mood has shifted, albeit to something pleasant, once everything’s said and done. He puffs out a breath, discarding the neglected condom. Before he wraps you in a towel, his thumb brushes over your tattoo once more – his eyes look fascinated and affectionate, but he doesn’t comment on it again.

He doesn’t guide you back to your room but to his, drying you up thoroughly and affectionately.

He lets you leave for just a moment, telling you that you need to come back once you’ve found stuff to sleep in. His behavior is odd, but instead of questioning it, you indulge in his tender care.

But in the end, he only lets you wear your fresh pair of underwear and your shorts, snatching your shirt to throw it onto his desk. He rummages through his closet silently and only speaks once he’s handed you one of his cotton shirts.

“Take this?”

His tone is different from how he sounded the rest of the night. Not demanding, but kind of questioning. His teeth nibble at his lip and then he says, “I think you’d look good in it… Just if you’re up to it.”

He doesn’t stutter or hesitate. Like he dreamed of this for ages.

“Okay,” you mutter.

Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, he waits until you’re done, incredibly ecstatic when you smoothen the fabric over your body. He praises you, “Knew it. Beautiful.”

Then, his mouth falls shut. The joy melts into something softer. His eyes drink you in from head to toe, and he lifts both arms to tangle his fingers with yours.

You oblige, letting him pull you closer softly. Tilting your head, you speak up. “What’s up?”

But he doesn’t elaborate. “Nothing,” he only tells you with a smile.

“Okay.”

“But–”

You knew it. There’s something he’s thinking of profusely and he doesn’t want to keep it hidden. Thank God.

“Yeah?” You spur him on.

“Um… Stay here tonight.”

…Oh. Oh–

After all the things that went down tonight, his offer still strikes you like lightning. There’s a dull thump behind your chest and a growing ache in your stomach. You don’t know what it is and don’t understand why your body reacts that way.

You should be swarmed with butterflies. But instead, a ball of something strange forms inside you.

Maybe because he asks like your room isn't right next to his. Or as though you’d be gone and out of reach for miles if you stepped over the threshold of his bedroom now.

But… You’d be insane to resist.

So you let him drape the blanket over the both of you, crawling next to him.

“Lemme–” He says. You don’t get the opportunity to lay against his heartbeat, because he does it first. An arm holds your body close, his cheek pressed against your chest. “Like that. Feels good.”

He tangles his legs with yours, sighing in extreme satisfaction. You’re sure he’s dozing off when you interrupt by joking, “We didn’t save that much water after all.”

His voice is just a mumble when he speaks. “You did turn it off, though…” You chuckle quietly, and he pulls you closer to him. “I’ll use the college shower for a few days, okay?”

The things he’s ready to do for you…

In hindsight, you don’t think it’s the physical attraction you’ve been feeling for weeks that led to tonight’s fiasco. It’s not hormones or his jawline. Thinking, your emotions might date back to a time you can barely remember.

Because those subtle sacrifices he makes, the caring statements, the love he carries for you that shows in tiny, tiny things. Platonic or not, a bond like yours was bound to make you fall as hard as you did.

You think you remember what occurred that set you on fire so much hotter recently. Just right now… It might not be the time to speak about it yet, so you stuff the secret memory back into your mind.

Zeroing in on the mention of college, you stretch sideways, telling him to hold on a moment.

“Hm?” He mumbles.

“Setting an alarm.” The phone screen lights up your face and you squint one eye shut. “We’re still college students, Jungkook.”

“Mmmh,” he groans in displeasure. “Do we need to go?”

“I mean, do you wanna graduate?”

“I don’t know. I could strip for money.”

You laugh, holding him closer to you than before. Fondness seeps into him, and you notice when he digs his ear harder into your chest.

“Saw you naked, so speaking out of experience,” you support, “I think people would like that.”

He hums again. You feel his lips graze the shirt he gave you. “Would you be my manager?”

“If I get free shows.”

Nodding, he assures, “Of course. You can count on me, mon capitaine.”

“Oohhh,” you praise, tapping his bare bicep. “You can’t just quote The Beauty and the Beast and expect me to stay solid.”

He breathes out a throaty laugh, sounding right from his chest. “Stay solid?”

“Yeah. Look.” You palm his soft cheek, ignoring the way he leans into your touch. Ignoring what it does to you. And he’s smiling, too. “Do you feel me melting?”

“You’re so damn funny, you know?” He tells you.

Your face warms at his compliment, and you think you could fall asleep in satisfaction after all. That is. If there wasn’t what he says next of course. Out of fucking nowhere.

“Hey…” He begins and hesitates. His voice is quiet and drowsy, ready to drift off. “All that happened won’t change anything, right? Between us? Because I’m… I’m sorry if it makes things weird.”

Your heart skips a beat… He might have heard it.

That’s what he wants? To not change shit?

To remain platonic, friendly, close but not close enough. It won’t change anything? Because you thought it would.

But what are you supposed to say? Here, with him in your arms. You can’t start an argument or disrupt the evening you gifted each other. The preciousness of it can’t fade…

“No,” is what you say for that reason. “Of course not.”

“Good. Good, that’s important.” You don’t think he’s aware of what he’s saying. He sounds so tired, worn out after all the things he did today. The way he bids tonight goodbye is proof of that. “Night, Pumpkin.”

“Good night, Kook.”

Why did things happen the way they did? How did you let your guard fall? When did he decide it’d be okay to take a step further in his bed, in the bathroom, in the shower, only to go back to ground zero?

All those questions could plague your mind as you begin slumbering away. But they don’t.

Not yet.

–

pt1 || pt2 || pt3

–

author’s note: I am! sorry for the ending🥴 if you made it to the end of my very first real fic, thank you sowww much! did you enjoy it? let me know what you think--send an ask or reblog if you’d like, i’m really excited to know what you have to say bc feedback and support means everything💕

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook oneshot #bts imagine #bts fic #jeongguk smut #jungkook

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chvoswxtch · 1 month

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I have a request for you: I'm at the bar with friends but have been sneaking glances at Matt playing pool all night. Friends are like quit staring at his ass and go talk to him. But I'm like no, guys that hot aren't interested in shy, curvy girls. Then to my surprise, Matt comes over and starts flirting. Wouldn't mind it getting spicy. Fic if the muses are with you. She/her pronouns are fine. Thank you for your time.

hi darling!

i'm sorry for getting this to you so late, but I hope you enjoy it 🖤

generous.

warnings: swearing, drinking, allusions to spicyness, matt murdock's ass word count: 1.4k

“Oh come on, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Are you really asking me, a chronic overthinker, what’s the worst thing that could happen? Because I could give you ten worst case scenarios right now just off the top of my head.”

“So what, you’re just gonna sit here all night staring at his ass?”

“I wasn’t just staring at his ass. He’s got plenty of other nice things to stare at.”

For the last hour, you’d been staring at the mysterious brunette blind man lingering by one of the pool tables with his two friends. You hadn’t even wanted to come out tonight. It had been a hell of a week, and you would’ve rather gotten tipsy in the comfort of your own living room. But now you were thankful your best friend had dragged you out, and to whomever this gorgeous man’s tailor was.

The white dress shirt he wore seemed to strain around his broad shoulders and biceps every time he lifted his beer bottle to his plump looking lips. His maroon tie hung loosely around his neck, the first two buttons undone, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows giving you a delectable view of his forearms. But the real star of the show were his pants. They clung to his thighs like a second skin, and every time he leaned over the pool table, you were presented with the sight of the most amazing ass you had ever seen.

You didn’t know whether to be jealous that yours didn’t have the same curve and roundness or grateful that from your spot in the bar you had the perfect view of it.

“Quit being insecure. It’s not like he can see you.”

“Oh wow, thanks.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. You might as well be as blind as he is if you can look in the mirror and not see you’re a knockout.”

Rolling your eyes, you downed the rest of your dry martini, letting the bitter lukewarm gin settle warmly in your lower stomach. Setting down your empty glass on the table, you turned to her and cocked your head to the side, narrowing your eyes into lighthearted slits.

“Do you know how blind people ‘see’? With their hands.”

“What man doesn’t love a good handful of tits and ass?”

The laugh that abruptly escaped your mouth couldn’t be contained by your hand. It was so loud and infectious, it caught the attention of a few patrons around your table. Removing the twist of lemon from your empty glass, you tossed it in her direction with widened eyes, trying to speak through your laughter.

“Jesus, Jess.”

“What? All I’m saying is if I had your curves, I would never wear clothes. I’d walk around naked all the time. And I certainly wouldn’t be so shy about approaching men.”

“Okay one, you do that already. And two, you haven’t been shy a day in your life.”

Setting her glass of bourbon down, Jessica looked at you with a mischievous smirk on her lips and arched one of her dark brows.

“I’ll give you twenty bucks if you go talk to him.”

“You are not bribing me to go talk to him.”

“Well I shouldn’t have to with the way you’re drooling over him. Thirty bucks.”

“I am not drooling-”

“Forty bucks.”

“Jess I swear to-”

Before you could finish your sentence, a firm chest met your shoulder, and you felt a large hand suddenly pressing along your lower back. Glancing up, your eyes widened in shock as you were met with the sight of none other than the beautiful man that you had been thirsting over all night. His soft lips stretched into the brightest and most charming grin you had ever seen, adorned with a set of dimples indenting each of his scruffy cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, excuse me. I think I took a wrong turn on the way to the bar.”

That voice…God, that voice. It was deep and smooth and itched something in your brain you didn’t realize needed to be scratched. You’d definitely be fantasizing about it later reciting particular phrases with your hand between your legs. A light kick to your shin under the table brought you back to the present, and you turned your head to glare at Jessica, finding her staring back at you with an arched brow, motioning her head towards the handsome stranger. You quickly realized that you hadn’t said anything, just sat there gawking at him, and your cheeks flushed with heat as you stumbled over a response.

“Oh…um…don’t worry about it. I get lost on my way home from work all the time, and I only live two blocks from my office. At least you have an excuse.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, your eyes widened in horror, and you immediately started trying to do damage control.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry. That’s not what I meant…I just…I didn’t-”

Your ramblings were cut off by the sound of his deep and hearty chuckle that was melodic and full of pure amusement. His large hand that was splayed on your back, causing your skin to feel scorched from the heat of his palm transferring through the thin material, slowly slid to your waist to give it a light reassuring squeeze, but he didn’t pull away.

“Two blocks away? If your sense of direction is that bad, you’re welcome to borrow my cane.”

There was a hint of a tease nestled within his words that you detected, and it settled the anxiety that had twisted your stomach into knots thinking you had offended him. Letting out a soft breath, a faint laugh left your lips.

“That’s…very generous of you.”

The man’s tongue darted out to wet his plump lips, and the sight was hypnotic. The edge of his mouth curved up into a devilish smirk, and he gave a light shrug of his shoulders.

“I’m Catholic.”

A soft snort escaped you at that, and your brows rose slightly up your forehead as you took a moment to enjoy the sight of this gorgeous man up close.

“Oh, so the generosity is mandated?”

“Highly encouraged. Speaking of generosity, would you mind showing me to the bar?”

That caught you off guard. Blinking a few times, your lips parted to speak, but you abruptly forgot every word in the English language. Jessica suddenly piped up from across the table.

“She’d love to. She needs a refill anyway.”

You were so caught up in being close enough to the handsome brunette stranger to smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne, you had almost forgotten she was there. Turning your head to look at Jessica with widened eyes, silently asking “what the fuck are you doing”, all she did was wink in response and bring her glass of bourbon to her curved lips.

“Well, in that case, I’d love to buy you a drink then. As a thank you.”

The man removed his hand from your waist, and you instantly found yourself missing the contact. He held his large hand out in your direction, that same charming smile plastered on his enticing mouth.

“I’m Matt, by the way.”

Matt. Your new favorite name. You’d definitely be reciting it later in bed while you indulged in erotic fantasies, wishing that your hand between your thighs was his own.

Smiling shyly, you slipped your hand into his, your heart rate picking up at the way he curled his fingers around your palm in a firm but gentle grip. His hand was warm and a little rough but you wouldn’t mind letting him trace every inch of your skin to draw his own map of you in his mind.

“It’s nice to meet you, Matt. I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N.”

The way he repeated your name, like he was tasting it on his lips, had heat burning in your lower belly more than the gin you’d consumed. He gave your hand a delicate tug in his direction, grinning when you followed his silent command and got down from the bar stool. He let go of your hand to slip his arm around your waist instead, bending down to speak lowly in your ear.

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejloveb0t @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts @starsm00n @mentallyunstablebish @spiritofthewriter @merleisapartygod @powellssaturn @geeksareunique @urlocalgeek

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock request #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil request

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narcissarina · 13 days

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HIII! How are you, pookie? Here a request.

Honestly I love vendetta Leon, I think he has so much potential in fics! So, I was thinking about grumpy vendetta Leon who gets paired up in a mission with agent reader who is younger than him and they're full of life, literally a sunshine.

Leon sometimes would be bothered by reader's attitude, like 'why are they so happy?' or something like that, but after finishing the mission he would get used to reader, yet he would be his usual stern and cold himself. After some months of working together, Leon starts liking reader because they make him happy or something like that. (they could end together like a couple. You can make it fluff, angst or smut, it's up to you! I also loved your last fic, bodyguard Leon it's just another level 😭)

I'm doing fine lovieee!!! Ty for the request ^-^! Ngl I had an idea and idk if you're into a crossover trope but I DID IT>:)) Reader from SHIELD from the marvels!! Two different agents working together for their agency benefits omg. Hope you like it pookie!!😭🤞 lil smut in here😍😍

Crossed Paths𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ

MarvelAgent!Reader x Vendetta!Leon

Word count: 3,546

𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎.

Leon thought to himself, “why can’t I have a peaceful vacation?” His peace always gets interrupted when he had been given a chance to enjoy his day off, even if it means his vacation is drinking his problem away and get wasted.

After that mission, he was assigned yet again to another. He took his flask out to clench his thirst but Chris quickly took his beloved alcohol away from him, “come on, Leon.” Chris sighs and put the flask aside, he earned a grumble from Leon as the tired agent sat on his seat and lean back.

He doesn’t know why he’s still here, his mission’s finished, right? Can’t he go back to his vacation and drink away? Why did the D.S.O assigned him to another mission when they clearly gave him a day off, he hasn’t been able to enjoy his break the fullest.

“Why am I here?” He asked himself, Chris cock a brow and elbow on his knees. Nudging his friends leg, “you good?” he asked, Leon hums and spread his legs apart—his mood shifting and his patience running.

Voices broke out, coming closer to the two.

“We’re glad you have convinced Director to have you work for us for a while, agent.” A males voice was heard, a heels that belongs to a female clicks as a soft chuckle was caught, “it’ll benefit both us, that’s why it took director to agree.”

The door was swung open, Leon’s eyes darted at the two individuals—he recognize the man but the woman beside him, he didn’t met before nor does she works for the D.S.O, Leon tap Chris’ shoulder with the back of his hand and point directly at you, “who’s she?” he asked in a whisper, Chris shrugged and respond, “probably from a different agency base on her attire,” the males eyed you from head to toe, “uhm, or a new recruit?”

“A new recruit doesn’t look like that, Chris.”

Your eyes quickly caught the two agents, Chris quickly looked away and cleared his throat—Leon on the other hand, maintain eye contact with his arms folded against his chest. “She looks young,” Chris hums to Leon’s remark, “guessing she’s in her mid-twenties or something like that.”

A smile flashed to him, your eyes smiled with your lips—as if the sun was kissing Leon all over the face. Your attire, Leon assumes it’s a uniform that all agent wears in your agency—all black, straps over your thighs, waist and chest. Fit and highlighting your curves.

“Ah, agent Kennedy!” The man exclaimed, his voice raised as he walks to the tired agent, “please to see you here, this is…” you cut him off and told Leon your name, he hadn’t heard that name before so he knew you’re not from around here.

Furthermore, Leon got the gist of it—you, from the S.H.I.E.L.D comes to work with D.S.O for a while, approximately for eight months via contract. And, he’s assigned to be with you, special mission was also been handed over to the two of you.

Chris left Leon with you after a few minutes hearing about the mission that’s been given for him and yours only, giving the tired agent the best before leaving.

“Fantastic,” Leon groans and threw his head back, “not the reaction I am expecting, agent.” You smiled and take a sit beside him, taking the file from his hand, flipping pages and humming to yourself. Silence was loud as you speak to break the eerie silence, “I never expect you in this kind of state.” You murmur.

Leon shot his head up and looks at you, “what do you mean?” he asked, “when I read your files, you were quite a charm sir.” You turn your head and grin at him, “and younger, full of life—now…” you stop yourself and chuckle, Leon doesn’t know whether he would take that as an insult or a compliment.

“You have files about me?” Leon click his tongue and shakes his head, “don’t believe ya.” He mutter, taking his flask from the other side of the table, raising a brow as you took it away from his hand, “come on!” he grumbles and rolled his eyes, “can’t drink today, Leon. We have a job to finish.”

“About the files…” you started to tease the agent further, explaining little events that had happen to his life—how you knew the shits he had to endure and how he was forced in this agent gig just to protect someone, but you didn’t drew the line. It did made the agent irritated, resulting him to walk away.

You laugh at his reaction, you will have your fun breaking down his walls bit by bit and give him the relaxation he deserves. After all, he’s been through enough right?

“Why are you here?” He groans, you smiled up to him, “I mean, gonna share some intel on our mission, no?” you remind him and share the location and what are the objectives to accomplish, Leon had no choice but to listen—he is assigned with you after all.

What he had in mind is that you’re all smiles, always flashing your teeth to him as your eyes smiles too—you’re just so… Happy, full of life and energy. And he’s, well, grumpy.

It gives sunshine and grumpy duo, you were always asking him if he got that and that he’s still listening, of course he is! He’s just wondering what kept you look sore in the eyes.

“So,” Leon starts, his tired eyes gazing to you, “the contract only last for eight months?” he raise a brow and tilt his head to your side as he question, you nod in response and cross your leg—a smile forming on your face, “yes sir, and I’ll be out of your ass after eight months.” You heard a scoff from him and drink from his flask, “that’s good.” He murmurs.

Laughing at his response, you read files about him back at S.H.I.E.L.D’s and you never knew that the man had his colors drained, well—you want to change that, add a little blues and hues to his life and it’ll give him the thrill.

“Do you always dye your hair every phrase you go down to?”

“What do you mean?” Leon sighs and asked, wondering why he even bothers hanging around with you as you swirl your drink in hand, “I mean, you were a bright bloke the night before the incident back at Raccoon City, then when you went to save the presidents daughter—your hair became a little dull and longer and so on so forth and now…” you eyed him from his chest and head, “you look emo.”

He would be lying if he didn’t crack a smile, “You’re funny.” He says sarcastically, you gave a bow; hand in chest and bow down with elegance. “Why thank you, my good sire.” You tease.

Well that wouldn’t end well, assignment had been piling up on the two of you and it result you always carrying the mission and giving Leon light works, he always asked why, your responded with: “can’t have my senior break his back.”

Even though there was the big assignment for the two of you, you help Leon first with his extra ones—paperwork and some stuff he needs to finish rather than stressing around it, saving him from the burden. Then the main event had finally come.

Retrieving an item for the D.S.O and data for S.H.I.E.L.D, wondering why can’t S.H.I.E.L.D’s best heroes do this—to be honest, they’re busy on their own saving civilizations. And you’re chill being away from them for a while, and only a month; Leon started to get used from your tactics and personality. Although he’s still his cold, grumpy, stern and glaring anyone that invade his space.

“so, what kind of monsters do you fight?” you asked, shooting at the enemies opposite side from Leon, “zombies and some fucked up shit that B.O.Ws create.” He shouts from above, you gasp and smack the zombie in its head and shot it, “you guys fight these stuff?” you speak with curiosity.

“Yeah, why’d you ask? No, what do you fight?”

“Aliens from outer space, crazy things that got in New York and oh! There was this god who uhm,” you pause, stabbing your opponent with the tip back of your heel, “who almost held the entire city hostage.” You chuckle your last word and turn to him, he couldn’t describe anything right now. Probably the word silly and unbelievable would do the trick.

He jumps down and land on his feet, stepping towards you and hand on his hip, “you got to be fucking with me.” He remarks, not believing a word that you just said, “do I look like I’m lying, Mr. Kennedy?” you hums and took your hand off the chest of the zombie, taking the heart with you as it was still beating.

“Don’t…” he points to your hand, “fucking do that shit.” He finishes and sigh, “and I don’t know whether to believe you or not, but no.” his lips turns to a thin line and his brows still furrowed, “your face looks like it hurts.” You pointed out and threw the heart in your hand away.

The agent doesn’t know what he’ll do to you, you got the energy and stamina to be optimistic about everything and he doesn’t know where you’re seeing the light.

You turn your head to him, folded your arms and shift your weight to your right—both of you covered in crimson from the enemies, “got the thing?” you question him as Leon brought the item that the D.S.O wanted and wiggle it on the air and put it back to his pocket, “how about you? Got the data that S.H.I.E.L.D needed?” you flash him the document in hand and push it to his chest.

“Tada! Teamwork, baby!” you yelled and pat his shoulder, “by the way, do we only take your bike all the way back?” Leon nodded and walks off, you followed. “That sucks, I’ll share the pay for the gas.”

You hum your way out and got to his vehicle, it’s still daylight and he never thought that the “big mission” that he got assigned on with you would be that easy, well since you carried. Leon got to give you credits for that.

“Hop on.” He lets you hold on to the documents and got on, you stared at him blankly, not moving an inch. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, groaning as he wants this to get this over with, “you know, base on the data and files that I read about you, uhm… I don’t trust your driving skills, I didn’t got killed by big enemies and here I am, going to die with your driving.” You murmur under your breath.

Leon felt insulted by that, squinting his eyes as he groans in annoyance. “It’s either I’ll drive or leave you here.” He gives out a choice, although it’s an ass of a choices but you got to his back and be his passenger princess.

One hand around his waist and one hand holding on to the data that’ll you bring back, your chin rest to his shoulder as he starts the engine and took off.

The whole ride was you telling stories about your time in your own agency, how you got in and how you met the Avengers that the Director put together, you were included on the team as well. You told Leon how the Avengers broke out a civil war, it kept him entertained by your silly stories that he finds unbelievable—well, zombies and mutated things would be considered as fictions too but it happened to him so he’ll probably give it a pass.

You both made it back safely, you kept your promise and fill his tank full and paid for it and you were delighted that you’re still in one piece after riding with Leon, you kept the document safe somewhere in your arranged office inside the agency and Leon gave the item they needed.

Mission accomplished.

But you still have four months left before the contract ends, you spent those four months helping Leon and turn him into a better version of himself—you share your point of view and emphasize with his struggle, you shared laughter and warmth with him.

It made his day, he would be lying if he doesn’t enjoy your presence. He got used to you, always greeting him with a smile first thing in the morning, coffee in his hand than the usual flask that he drinks in. Although he still looks as terrible, he thinks his mental health is improving.

There was a time that you’d go annoy him and he’ll snap at your shits, like the one time you gave him a hug then ran off after squeezing his tits.

“You know,” you start, your heels clicks as you turn to Leon, he squints his eyes—not trusting your tone of voice, “what?”

“I think you need a hug,” you open your arms wide, your lips turn to a pout and gave him the embrace that you think he deserves, with a little squeeze too. He was stun and dumbfounded at the sudden affection, “what in the actual fuck are you doing?” he hisses, but didn’t pushed you away.

“I’m hugging the most dangerous agent known to man,” you hum, burying your face to his chest, “you know, to look for a good man is to look for his heart.” You added and nuzzle, the agent gave an ick expression and question further, “heart? Why are you burying your face to my chest then?”

“Not my fault that your tits were in the way.” You respond and quickly grab a handful of his tits and squeeze it hard as you can and ran off, “son of a bitch! Get back here!” he yelled—caught him off guard as he chased after you and your giggles burst to every corner of the agency.

Hey, at least you’re giving light on the place, right?

If you’re being honest, you’d let him blow your back if he asked to take his frustration out—you’d notice his erection every after assignments that you help him with, asking yourself how he’s able to hold it all in and not jerk off. Does his dick just calms down?

You were dropping hints to him, launching flirty unsuspecting comments and small gestures but he seems to be not taking the hint, poking his buttons every time you want him to ask you for help.

Dreams do come true, maybe. You and Leon inside an unused room and a very secluded spot inside the building, your mouth shut with his right hand and his other gripping your lower back. Your back pressing against the door of the room, one leg up to his hip as his hand slides down to hold your rear and squeeze it.

Your muffle moans escaping your lips as Leon penetrates your insides, his hips piston to yours as his tip kisses your cervix every thrust he makes that made your legs go weak, his lips in the crook of your neck—nibbling on your flesh as you sense that his movements are taking his anger out.

“That’s it, take all of me.” He mutter, his fingertips digging to your flesh as you moan against his hand. “Gotta keep that mouth shut or else you’ll get both of us in trouble.” He hisses, increasing the speed of his pace that got your eyes rolling back, your gummy walls clenching to his shaft as it penetrates your womb.

Trying your best to minimize your moan, your gasp and small whimper ignites fire inside of Leon. He was pissed at some point, he always wonders why do you keep bothering him like a lost puppy.

He grit his teeth, sucking on to your flesh and biting down—holds you up in the air and humps on you with urgency, his hands grabbing your rear as he got deeper and focuses on making you feel your release, “L-Leon…” you gasp, feeling a warm sensation on your stomach, “m gonna cum.” You whine, he scoffs and planted sloppy kisses on your neck.

Your breath hitches as you gasp, your hand quickly covered your mouth as your moans are growing louder. Leon mutter curses as his hips started to spasm, he could feel you going to milk every drop of him as he reach his release. Your legs and hips jerk, your body jolted as you came to his cock—your puffy cunt milking him as he pulls and slam back in and fucks his orgasm.

“not so annoying now, huh?” he snicker and pulled out, helping you clean as your pussy was well-fucked by an older guy, you were in ecstasy in the thought of older men do it better.

He's grumpy, but he still has a heart to give you aftercare and take care of you since he made you like that. After all, you started to grow on him a little.

The eight month arrived and the contract finally ended, it saddens Leon to know this and watch you leave. Will he ever get to see you again? He thought himself that every night he went to sleep.

Who will greet him when he enters work?

Who will be delighted to have his presence around?

Who would acknowledge him as a person and not as the agent?

Who would bring him coffee and force him to drink that than the flask he drinks every night?

He got attached to you, and he feels like shit. What choice does he have than watch you go? Turn your back and look at him for the last time and say your last goodbye?

Would he ever feel your annoying presence and your lips on his cheeks every time you find him angry and sulking? Probably not, the contract finally ended and that’s that.

“my rides here.” You utter, your tone down as you look over to Leon, you smiled and keep on a bright mood, “try not to miss me so much.” You wink and stood up, “want to walk with me, Leon?” you held out an offering hand as he took it with no hesitation.

From the past few months you were clinging to him, now; he clings to you.

Hands intertwined together as he escorts you outside the building of the agency, the surrounding spacious as the ship revealed its presence—it was invisible so Leon was impressed by the technology it has.

You broke your hand to him and got to the ship, running up quickly to give the files to director Fury, “got the data? Good job, Agent.” The director praises and got inside, you on the other hand—quickly got down again and face Leon as the machine wringing and the wind blowing.

The warm of your hand connects to his cheeks, he melts right under your touch—he felt so… depress to see you go, he feels like every life and color that you pour into him will drain him eventually after you left and get back to his old drinking habits, he’d miss the coffee you’d serve him every morning and the sneaky kisses you plant to his face every time you caught him off guard.

You slowly took your hand and turn your back on him, the others are waiting and watching. As if they’re watching two people part ways that had crossed path once and won’t meet again, that’s just how cruel destiny was, right?

The sun is setting, Leon needs to act fast.

“Hey.” Leon called, he takes a couple of steps as he faces you. You look back at him, a gentle smile was on your face—it beams with the orange setting sun, it was warm and for the first time. Leon didn’t find that annoying.

“Yeah?”

The sound of the harsh wind almost blocks your voices as you answer the agent, the wringing didn’t stop as your ride and your other teams needed you to depart with them.

“Will I…” Leon chokes on his words, embarrassed to say as his eyes softens and feel his chest tightens.

“Will I ever get to see you again?”

You smiled at his question, touched by his words that he wishes to see you again. “You and I will meet again, Leon.” You chuckle.

“Someday.”

With that, you got in with your team—Director Fury guiding you back as the door slowly shut in front of Leon. The ship was now invisible to the naked eye, he knew that you were now gone.

How?

He couldn’t feel your presence anymore.

He was now left alone in the setting sun, the orange hue hitting his face as he looks at the sun itself. It remind reminds him of you, warm and beautiful to watch.

But heartbreaking to see you go and let darkness take place.

Leon wishes that someday, you two will meet again.

He’ll be waiting… in the setting sun.

Hoping that the two of you will crossed paths again.

Someone give this man a hug, a kiss, take his alcohol away (we don't want him drinking away) put him into a blanket burrito and a hot cocoa.

Don't worry, I'm just silly and he'll meet reader again>-<!!

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon x reader #resident evil leon #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil vendetta #vendetta leon #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #↬ɴᴀʀᴄɪssᴀʀɪɴᴀ✿ᴘᴇᴘᴛᴀʟᴋs/ᴀsᴋsდ #love him<33 #silly little goose #marvel crossover #!!!

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 4 months

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Even Better: part 1 (Angst) (18+)

TLR!Michelangelo x reader

Part 2

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A/N: Finally finished The Last Ronin the other day. Other than making me cry like a bitch, I have to admit it made me thirst for some TLR Mikey. Dude deserves a good smut written about him🖤 And to be honest, I had a hard time stopping once I first got started. This is my longest one yet, goodness😭😂

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You’re April’s daughter and Casey Marie’s twin sister. Most of your life you’ve been dreaming about the turtles of your mother’s youth, but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal.

Reader is at least 20. As far as I know, Mikey is in his 40’s.

Warnings: Spelling, age difference, masturbation (reader), caught in the act, oral - female receiving, dom Mikey and sub reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex, a little pain, size difference, size kink?

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Your mother had told you and your twin sister many stories about the turtles and their rat father over the years. How she and your father met each other because of them. How Splinter taught both his sons and your parents how to fight. How Leonardo fiercely protected his brothers, and as your mother put it, was seen as an absolute killjoy by his brothers. How Raphael matched your father in temper with an equally big and golden heart hiding within him. How Donatello could speed days locked up in his lab, and the many times he inspired your mom in her own lab. And how Michelangelo could light up a room with his loud jokes and bright smile. You and your sister would often point them out in the picture frames hanging around the lair, and beg your mom to tell more stories about them, no matter how mundane. The time your mom and Donnie made a tracking device in the lab, the time your father and Raph played hockey a whole night, or the time Mikey pranked Leo so hard that Splinter put him on cleaning duties for a whole month. You wanted to hear it all. Every single little detail.But that didn’t change the fact that they are all gone now. Your mother’s best friends and your father.

As you and Casey Marie got older, you continued to ask your mother for stories. But while Casey Marie wanted to hear about New York City before the Foot came to power, while you still asked for the turtles, getting more and more interested in the mundane part of their lives. Like whose room was it that you had made your room in? Who used to sit in the seat you sat in when eating dinner? And that mug you found in the storage, who did that belong to that? So many questions, and your mother could only give you so many answers.

Once you reached your teenage years, you started fantasizing about the four mutant turtles. Was that wrong? Their pictures literally hung on the walls of your underground home, so it wasn’t as if you could just ignore them. It probably didn’t help much that you didn’t like going outside, deciding to stay in the lair with your mother, while Casey Marie went out and explored. But that just gave you more time to help out your mother and learn more about the turtles.

As you gathered more and more information about the turtles, you started to form scenarios in your head, imagining how it would be to get together with the turtles. Which one of them would be the best friend, the best boyfriend, or even the best in bed. That proved to be a question you would contemplate for years, finding yourself staring at the pictures of the four turtles in the hallway in your early twenties, still with that little question in the back of your head. Although your thoughts about the turtles had calmed a bit once you had hit your twenties, you could not deny that they still lingered in the back of your head from time to time. So when your sister one day brought a passed out mutant turtle home, you did not know what to do with yourself. You were shocked, and maybe even a bit scared. He was way bigger than you had thought he would have been, but given his age it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

Your mother knew who he was straight away. It was Mikey. The turtle whose room you had been occupying every since the day you and your sister grew too old for sharing the same bed with your mom. He was bruised and bleeding badly. Thank God for your mothers medical skills, otherwise Mikey’s fate would have been a dark one.

It took some time for Mikey to wake up, but when he did, he was much different than you had thought he would be. Your mother had spoken highly about his jokes and his warm happiness, but during dinner the day he woke up, you saw none of that. The only time you heard him speak the first day, was when you overheard a conversation between him and your mom in the kitchen. His voice was much deeper than you had anticipated, catching you off guard. And of course he heard you gasp and stopped talking, not speaking a word until you had gotten what you needed, and leaving the kitchen so they could continue their talk.

Three days had passed, and Mikey had still not spoken a word directly to you. He had thanked your sister for saving him while you were close by, but that was pretty much. There was this one time where he took up the whole hallway, staring at the exact picture of him and his brothers, you had found yourself staring at many times. When you asked if you could pass by, he did not say a word. He just looked at you out of the corner of his eye, before moving to the side, giving you more than enough space before you ran by.

Michelangelo was really nothing like you had expected him to be like. You had thought he would be nice, open and warm, talking your ear off like your mother had said he always did. But now he was silent, closed off and cold. He almost seemed angry. It scared you a little bit. Made you nervous whenever you were around him. Whenever you were sitting and talking with your mom or Casey Marie, you would lock up when he entered the room. But as much as he scared you, you also found him very interesting. You blamed your teenage fantasies for finding his form attractive. His toned muscles, covered in bruises, and the visible veins on his neck, arms and hands. The wrinkles on his face told of the things he had been through, and his eyes were always so distant, as if he was watching something no one else could see. But when his eyes suddenly snapped to you, catching you staring at him, you panicked, quickly avoiding your eyes, feeling your cheeks getting red. Luckily for you, Casey Marie came into the room, as loud as your mother had said your father was, telling Mikey about something, giving you the distraction you needed to run to your room. You stayed there the rest of the day, too embarrassed to come out.

That evening you laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling above you. You cursed yourself for choosing this room when you were little. Now you couldn’t fall asleep without thinking about Mikey’s eyes on you. Anywhere you looked, you were reminded by the fact that Mikey used to look at the same walls as you did. Heck, you were even sleeping in the bed he used to sleep in. As far as you knew, the blanket, pillow and sheets were also his. It did not matter how many times you had washed them over the years, because they now suddenly smelled strongly of him, not letting you rest for a moment.

You found yourself getting frustrated. None of the turtles had invaded your head so badly ever since you were a teenager, and now you could feel the same need and tension from back then build up between your legs. You pressed your naked thighs together under the blanket, feeling the wetness in your panties. You sighed out in frustration, as you once again remembered the old turtle’s eyes on you. As much as you had felt embarrassed under his eyes, you could not help feel aroused at the thought. He had caught you staring. Michelangelo had caught you with his strong gaze. And now here you were, laying in his old bed with your panties soaked just thinking about him.

Your fingers moved down your stomach, getting closer and closer to your core. It was okay to touch yourself with the older turtle in mind, right? You had done it before, so why would it be any different now? And with that thought you let your fingers slide into your panties, where you found your clit. With yet another sigh you started to rub your small bundle of nerves, letting your thoughts drift back to the muscular turtle. His broad shoulders, his big hands, his thick thighs. With his general size, you could only imagine what he could be packing in secret. You used both hands to slide your panties down, leaving them somewhere under the blanket, before pushing your legs out further, letting your fingers continue their movements around your clit.

A knock on your door caused you to quickly pull your hand out from under the blanket. You sat up in the bed, staring towards the door as it opened. You were almost ready to sink to the ground when you saw who it was.

“Sorry”, Mikey said. “Were you sleeping?”

“Just about”, you answered, tugging the blanket closer around you.

“Sorry. I just wanted to see my room once again”, Mikey said, his eyes falling towards the foot of his old bed. “May I?”

You nodded, watching him as he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He stood for a moment, staring into nothingness, before his eyes moved to his surroundings. It was almost just the way he remembered it. You had only moved a few things, but other than that, it looked like his old bedroom. Same bed frame and all. He let out a small chuckle, remembering all the memories he had between these four walls. The chuckle was light, lighter than sounds you ever had heard from him. That surprised you, and Mikey noticed, though he decided not to say anything about it, acting as if he forgot you even were in the room. Acting as if he couldn’t smell the heavy odor in the air. Truth be told, he did not notice the odor when he first came to the room, nor did he notice it when he walked into the room. It wasn’t until he stood a few feet from the bed that he really noticed it. But with his back turned to you, he did not dare to move or look in your direction. It was the same smell he had noticed when he caught you staring at him earlier that day. It was a scent that seemed to follow you, at least whenever he was around. Yet it wasn’t until now he realized what that scent could be signifying.

You watched as Mikey moved around the room, feeling your legs shake under the blanket. As horrified as you were, you could not deny the excitement. Knowing that lower half of your body was naked under the blanket, with the old mutant just a few feet away from you. You clenched your teeth as you rubbed your thighs together, your eyes lingering on the way his overalls clung around his thick veiny thighs. You had to keep your breathing calm as you the movement in his muscles, and the way his big hands smoothed over an antiche on one of the shelfs. Slowly, making sure his back was still turned to you, his focus on everything else except you on the bed, you let your hand move back under the blanket, once again finding your now dripping core. You suppressed every sound as you slowly started to circle your clit again, your eyes focusing on his hands. The size, the veins, the roughness. You could only imagine how they would feel against you. His rough skin against yours.

“You’re young”, Mikey rumbled, his back still turned to you. You froze, your heart pounding. Yet you managed to remove your hand before he spoke once more. “But you’re not stupid. You know I know what you were doing. I can smell it”. He turned his body towards you, taking small slow steps towards the bed, his voice deep and echoing against the brick walls of his old room. Once again, terrifying yet strangely arousing. It was at that moment that Mikey decided to let go. For the past 20 years he had traveled alone. He was tired. He felt lonely. And with this sweet scent in the air, begging him to come closer, he had to surrender. Even though you were one of his best friend’s daughters, he could not deny your beauty or how your hormones in the air drew him to you. “I could smell it when you were staring at me, and I can smell it now as I’m telling you”. He was now so close to the bed, that his knees were hitting the mattress at the end of the bed. In a slow move, he was standing with both of his knees planted firmly against the bed under him, towering over you. You were too stunned to speak, your mouth dry as you tried to swallow. But damn it, it didn’t change the fact that your heart was beating fast and your nipples were hard under your shirt. “But one thing I can’t smell…”, the mutant continued. “... Is if you still have your underwear on under the blanket”. He took a hold of the fabric of the blanket, pulling slightly at it, making it move down your body, stopping right over your hip. You whimpered slightly. You knew you found Mikey attractive, but this was almost ridiculous. He hadn’t even done anything, and you were already out of breath. “What will I find, (Y/N)?”

“Off”, you choked out. “They’re off”.

“Good girl”, Mikey hummed, pulling further on the blanket. It tickled as the blanket slowly moved off your skin, causing you to curl your legs up against you. With the blanket in his big hands, Mikey’s stare burned into your dripping core, just behind your closed legs. He could almost feel the heat from his towering position, watching the glistening of your folds in the dim light, your sweet scent taking a hold of his senses. Mikey suddenly felt hungry. Hungry in a way he had never felt before.

The churr that erupted from his chest almost made you jump in surprise. It was deep, deeper than you had ever dreamed it would be.

Silently he let go of the blanket to grab a hold of your ankle, his big hands easily opening you up for him. Not that you tried to fight him. No, not at all. All you could do was watch him and his hungry eyes as he crawled further onto the bed, making you gasp at every touch of him against your skin, and marvel at the sheer size of his hands on your ankles. Mikey used his rough hands to keep your legs open for him, letting him move closer to your core. Your breath hitched when you felt his breath against your knee, just before the inside of your thigh. You let out the slightest moan as Mikey’s eyes locked with yours, just as his lips meet your thigh, just above your knee. His hands slipped under your knees, sliding up the outside of your thighs, bringing your legs over his shoulder and onto his shell, before curling around them, his big strong arms holding you open, revealing your aching core even further.

“I’ve always dreamed of having a woman in my bed”, Mikey murmured against your thigh, his lips slowly making their way upwards, letting his tongue lick and his teeth nibble on the way. “Though I always thought that it would happen while I was a teenager, but life has its ways to surprise us”.

“Me too”, you breathed out, making Mikey look questionable at you, his lips still working their way closer to your core. “I used to dream about you when I was a teenager”.

Mikey let out a chuckle. It was almost a laugh. Your heart almost stopped at the sound. You had never thought that you would get to hear the mutant laugh. A chuckle? Sure. A laugh? Never.

“Is that so?”, Mikey smiled against your soft skin, feeling himself getting more daring. He could literally smell and see how his words affected you. The way you bite your lips with your pupils blown wide, and how your beautiful center started to cling around empty air. The thought of how you would cling around him, brought him dangerously close to dropping, making his churr sound as he spoke. “On my bed while I was gone? You’re a better girl than I thought, waiting patiently for me to come home”.

You sighed at his praise, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. This was already better than anything you could have made up in your mind. “Mikey”, you sighed, grabbing onto the sheet under you, breathing heavily at the close proximity of his lips to your flower.

“Is this how you’ve dreamed of me?”, he asked, before his tongue drew a line, all the way from the bottom of your core to the top, flicking your clit on the way.

“Mikey!”, you gasped in pleasure, your hands flying onto the arms around your legs.

“Not so loud, (Y/N)”, Mikey whispered against your mount. “We can’t let them hear us”.

You nodded, bringing an already shaking hand up to your mouth, before Mikey let his large tongue flick your clit once more, enjoying the feeling of how your thighs tensed in his grip. It was soon followed by another flick and yet another. It didn’t take long before you grabbed a hold of the front of your shirt, biting down on that instead of just covering your mouth with your bare hand. Mikey saw how that made your shirt rise further up, letting out a deep churr like moan against your clit. The vibration of one of your heels kicked against his shell, while a head flew to his bald head. Your head rolled back as Mikey started to suck on your clit, making your shirt rise even further. One of Mikey’s hands moved from your legs and up your side, until his hand was right on your breast. Your shirt rose over his two big knuckles, exposing your chest. You groaned against your shirt in satisfaction as Mikey’s gigantic hand started palming your breast, while his tongue and lips continued their work on your clit. Mikey hummed against your clit, finding the taste of your juices and sounds sweeter than honey. He wanted more.

With the hand of the thigh that Mikey’s arm was still wrapped around, he replaced his lips and tongue with his thumb on your clit, letting his tongue sneak down to your entrance. He growled at the sight of you squirming against him, his thumb rubbing circles on your bundles of nerves, while his tongue started exploring your insides. Your eyes fell shut as you threw your head to the side, your hips buckling against his face, and your small hand grabbing on to the one that was still groping your breast. You were close. Fuck, you were close. Your free leg over Mikey’s shoulder started to move frantically as you got closer, the other shaking against Mikey’s grip. He took in the sight of you. You red flushed face, your now messy hair, and the way your breast shook ever so slightly at each sudden move. Mikey started to grind himself against the mattress under him, getting himself closer to his drop, his tongue doing curled motions inside your warm walls, all while his thumb still assaulted your clit. That was when you started to grab onto him frantically. You were close, so fucking close for him. Mikey growled against you. He was going to get you there.

And then it happened. Your legs clamped around Mikey’s head as you came with a muffled scream that sounded like his name, and your legs spazzing over his shoulder. Mikey quickly retracted his hand from your chest, forcing your legs open with both his hands, licking up every last bit of your orgasm, every breath from him sounding like a groan. You puffed and panted, your hands forming fists around the sheets as Mikey rode out your high, until your legs finally started to relax under his hands.

Mikey sat up and started to undo his overalls. His moves were almost frantic as he undid his belt, followed by his straps, all while you laid there and watched him, still recovering from the earth shaking orgasm he had brought you, your now soaked shirt clinging to your collarbone. You once again started rubbing your thighs together, the sight of the undressing turtle making your heart pound.

“You like this, don’t you, (Y/N)?”, he growled with a smug smile, as he started to push the overalls down his body and down his muscular thighs. “Just like you used to dream of, huh?”

“Almost”, you smiled back, feeling yourself getting more mischievous, letting a hand slide down to your now overly sensitive clit. “It’s even better”.

The terrapin growled at the sight, shoving the rest of his clothes onto the floor, revealing himself before you in all of his naked glory. You marveled at the full sight of his toned body, feeling your body shiver with need once more. Mikey huffed before he grabbed a hold of your wrist, moving your fingers to his mouth, so he could suck off what little slick you had picked up on them. That alone caused you to let out a choked moan.

“No more self pleasure”, he said, before throwing your hand to the mattress, his hands finding the hem of your shirt. “Take this off and I’ll show you what’s even better”.

Whatever sound you made, it was enough to make Mikey chuckle as he watched you sit up to take off your shirt, leaving you fully naked in front of him. Once your shirt hit the floor he slowly crawled over you, his deep eyes watching you like a predator hunting a prey. Instictly you leaned backwards, slowly letting your back fall against the mattress, until Mikey had you lying fully onto the bed, with him positioned between your legs. You felt his breath across your face, his beak so close that you instinctively closed your eyes, your lips searching for his. His lips were rough yet soft, and moved against yours with ease. The kiss started out sweet, as if he hadn’t just fucked you dirty with his tongue. Your arms moved around his thick neck, your fingers tracing shapes on the back of his head, your legs curling around his thick thighs. Mikey’s hands moved to hold your close by the shoulders. It wasn’t until a soft moan escaped your lips that his large tongue dared to ask for entrance. And once entrance was granted, this got heated once again. Mikey started to grind his cloaca against your soaked flower, his lips swallowing every sound that came from your pretty mouth.

“Mikey”, you moaned against his lips, buckling your hips against him. “Please, Mikey. I want it”.

Mikey pulled from your lips and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, before his eyes caught yours. “Tell me if it hurts”, he whispered, a sudden softness in his voice. In the short time you had known him, you had never heard Mikey be soft. “Tell me and I’ll stop”.

“I will”, you nodded, feeling a soft kiss against your lips, before his kisses started to move down your neck just by your ear. One of his hands moved between the two of you to his cloaca, where he pulled himself out with ease, before he slowly started dragging his head up and down your folds before he found your entrance. With even more kisses down your neck, he slowly pushed into your tight hole, groaning against your skin. You had to bite down onto his shoulder in order not to scream. He was so much bigger than you had thought he would be, stretching you out to the point where it was hard to tell the difference between pleasure and pain.

“You’re doing so great, (Y/N)”, Mikey groaned against your ear, almost making your eyes roll back just by the sound. Your arms hugged tighter unto him as he moved further in, making him groan by how tight your walls were hugging him. “Fuck”. You whimpered against him, adjusting to his size. Mikey brought a hand to your face, pulling back slightly so he could look at you. “So good. You’re doing so good, (Y/N)”, he said before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

“Please, Mikey”, you whimpered, nudging him with your leg. “Please move”.

Mikey answered you with another kiss, before letting his head drop back down to your ear. He ever so slowly started to pull out of you, before slowly pushing back in. You quickly hide your face against his broad shoulder once more, whimpering at the small wave of pleasure. Mikey listened closely to your muffled sounds at his slow speed, trying to find any signs of pain. But once he found none he slowly started speeding up.

“Shit”, he moaned against your ear, his thrust becoming harder. “You feel so good, (Y/N)”. Your hands clawed onto his shell, your sounds muffled by his rough skin against your mouth.

Mikey’s legs moved further apart, making it easier for him to move against you. With the bed starting to creak lightly under you, you prayed that neither your mother or sister would hear anything. Neither the way you whimpered against the mutant turtle, or the way he cursed and groaned against your ear, telling you how good you were. Michelangelo fucking you raw on his old childhood bed was not something they needed to know. But you would be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamed of this moment, ever since he was brought back down to the lair. And now you were enjoying the full force of his God-like thighs.

Mikey placed a hand over your mouth and pulled back, looking down at you with hungry yet mischievous eyes. “Is this what you’ve dreamed of?”, he asked, his hips continuing to drive into you, setting a new speed. “To be fucked like this but and old mutant?” You nodded frantically, wanting to scream against his hand. A bright smug smile grew on his lips, bringing a boyish charm you had never seen on him before. He almost looked 20 years younger. “You’re such a good girl, (Y/N). Tell me, who is fucking you this good?”

“You, Mikey!”, you whimpered against his hand, your head spinning at the second high that was starting to build in your lower region.

“You’re getting close, ain’t you, (Y/N)?” His hand moved from your mouth to your throat, making you fight to stay quiet. Your heart beating faster and faster as you got closer and closer to your second orgasm. “Who are you coming for, (Y/N)?”

And with that your second orgasm that night hit you like a brick wall. Your body spazzing and your head spinning, you let out a loud soar moan. “Mikey!” The said mutant roughly pulled you in for another hungry kiss, swallowing every sound as you came hard around him. His speed continued high, the bed creaking while he rode out your high. His thrusts started to become erratic against your still shaking body, before he too came, groaning your name out loud.

Mikey stayed upon you, as the both of you caught your breath. With one last kiss, he slowly pulled out of you, leaving the two of you with small noises of complaint by the lack of each other. He laid back on his shell, staring up at his old ceiling while catching his breath. He instinctively pulled you close with his big arm, letting you rest your head upon his shoulder. He knew he should leave. You had both been noisier than he had wished to be, and he feared what April would say if she found him cuddling with her freshly fucked daughter in his arms. But Mikey could not deny how nice it was to be laying there with you in his old room. Who would have thought that his teenage dream of having sex in his room actually would come true.

“So”, you smiled from his side. “Was this just like your dream of having a woman in your room?”

Mikey chuckled, pulling you even closer. “It was even better”.

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ellethespaceunicorn · 4 months

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The Howling of Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Of Wolf and Man

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors – DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: 2.5K

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: Walter lets you in on his past, and you meet a friend.

Warnings: making out, slight heavy petting, hot werewolves

A/N: This chapter gave me so much grief! A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“I’m on my way over, alright? Just breathe for me. I’m gonna make a phone call and I will be over to your place shortly, okay?” Walter speaks clearly as if he were trying to calm down a frightened puppy.

Well, he’s not that far off.

“Yeah ok. Breathe. That should be easy enough, right?” You proceed to take one shaky deep breath and you laugh when you gulp in too much air and have a small coughing fit.

“Pup, you’re killing me. Gimme twenty minutes. Drink some water. I’ll see you soon, okay?” You hear the way he tries to cover up his worry with a short laugh.

“See you soon, Wolfie.”

You hang up and undress, throw your clothes in the hamper, and head to the bathroom to take a shower. Your body moved of its own accord, your brain leaving the equation early on to think hypotheticals. Only when you register that the water has gone cold do you turn the knobs and exit the tub. You are just toweling off when you hear the doorbell.

You tighten your towel around yourself and peek out the bathroom window down onto your driveway. You can see the edge of the black F-150 in the driveway and you heave a sigh of relief. You skip down the steps and walk across the living room to the front door. Opening it, you go to speak but hush and step aside as Walter walks in still talking on the phone with someone.

He mouths, I’m sorry, before going back to the phone call. “Yeah, alright. Thanks, brother. See you soon,” he ends the call and focuses his attention on you, smiling as you watch him take in your attire or lack thereof.

“So, who was that?” you ask, knocking Walter out of his daydreaming.

“Right, uh. That was Jace. He’s coming down to help us with our little problem. Well, it may not even be a problem. Who knows? Sy might be fine, we haven’t even seen his bite yet.” Walter scratches his beard and shrugs.

Crap.

“Actually, I’ve seen it. He sent me a pic of the bite after we were on the phone on my way home from work,” you reply, wishing you could melt into the floorboards.

Walter tilts his head and squints at you. “He sent you a pic of the bite after you were on the phone on your way home from work? That seems...friendly.” You watch as he bites the inside of his cheek, no doubt leaving something unsaid.

“Yeah, he left me a voicemail the night you both were hurt. But I didn’t listen to it until today. I had to call him to make sure he was okay before I bothered you with possibly a false alarm. I’m sorry I didn’t call you first.” you explain, grabbing his big paw and looking into his eyes.

He can’t help but melt for you, but he tries to keep it out of his expression. He fails, rolling his eyes and smiling. “First things first, pack a bag for a night or two at the cabin. Just for my own worry. So I know you’re safe.” He laces his fingers with yours and pulls you to him, “Oh, and I should probably look at that photo too.”

You pull him with you upstairs and grab your phone off of the charger. Scrolling to the texts, you find Sy’s chat and open it. You turn to look at Walter and speak, “I did not ask him to send a thirst trap. Just want that to be stated clearly.”

You hand him your phone and he rolls his eyes, using his thumb and index finger to zoom in on the bite. He studies the image for a bit before giving you back the device, sniffing and putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“Well?” you press.

“Kinda hard to look at it honestly. Never thought I’d see your ex’s happy trail. So, there’s that variable thrown in there for good measure,” he offers, pursing his lips and shaking his head. “It just seems like he is quite comfortable sending you these.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, you have to tell him. “Look, that day you dropped me at my car, Sy was here. Olivia called him because she didn’t know what else to do. He pointed out the hickey you left on my neck. He’s obviously jealous and he wanted to throw his hat in the ring. That’s all.”

“Well, we’ll just have to make sure he knows who hangs his hat here.” Walter pulls you to him, his large hand going to your throat as your lips connect. He swallows your delicate moans, savoring them as his thumb rubs at your pulse point. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, and lets you catch your breath.

You look up into his eyes and can’t stop the dopey smile that forms on your face. You shake your head and say, “Is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend? ‘Cause, if so? Fuck yeah is my answer.”

“Now, don’t let me stop you from packing. I’ll just sit here quietly.” He sits on your bed and gestures for you to get ready to go to his house.

Pulling a small suitcase from the closet, you gather your toiletries first, zipping their case closed as you walk back into the bedroom. It’s not long before you are in Walter’s truck and starting the trip to the cabin. You yawn for most of the ride, your body finally still and feeling like you could fall over at any second.

You arrive and put your things upstairs. Checking your watch, you realize it’s after 1 in the morning and you suddenly aren’t tired anymore. You didn’t have the chance to wind down after work, now that you think about it. You just stayed stimulated, in one way or another, off and on.

You decide to go back downstairs and see what Walter is doing. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you see him emerge from the kitchen holding an apple between his teeth as he pushes up the sleeves of his sweater.

After a healthy bite, he takes the fruit out of his mouth and walks over to you. “Lemme guess, can’t sleep?” You shake your head and he nods. “Wanna wait up for Jace with me? We can talk while we wait.”

You nod and he takes your hand, leading you to the living room.

“So how long have you known Jace?” you inquire, settling back into the couch’s plush cushions.

“Oh, far too long. I met him when I was turned.” Walter stops there and looks at you, seeing your look of excitement at hearing the story, “Look, it’s not that great of a story. But I’ll tell you if you wanna hear it.”

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, we don’t have to. But just know, it’s been on my mind since the moment I found out what you are. Of course, I wanna know how it happened.” You put your hand on his and he turns it over to hold it.

“It was really stupid. I came here to the States for school and I played football and was in a frat house. I had the whole ‘college experience’, ya know? Um, one kid on the team was kind of a loner but we got along just fine. Melot and I were pretty different, but he needed a friend and I was broke and he paid for everything. One night, he invited me out to a party off-campus. Promises drinks and girls and whatever I wanted. Should have known that was too good to be true.

“Anyway, he drives us out into the woods where this bonfire is going on. And there are maybe ten people there that I can see as we walk up. As soon as we get up to the fire, this huge guy stands up and walks around the fire and greets us. Now, he looks like he eats children and I feel so small in front of him. But he just hands us a couple of beers and whistles over his shoulder. And two very cute girls come running over. All of a sudden, I’ve got a cold beer and a girl on my arm and I didn’t take a second to think maybe this was too good to be true.”

You snicker at him, and he continues.

“The rest of the night is going alright. Then I notice there is a fighting ring going on and I see that they are really going for it. It’s brutality at its finest. I walk up and then the fight stops and I see Melot get into the ring and people start pushing me in. I was drunk enough to agree to fight him, but not drunk enough to lose. I had him knocked out within minutes, or so I thought.

“I wobbled over to him and turned him over to check out the damage and he lunged at me. Before I could even understand what was happening, Melot was biting into my shoulder. The pain was unimaginable and I blacked out. I came to and was so lost. I woke up and the girl from the night before was holding a cloth to my forehead and she smiled down at me when I opened my eyes. I fell in love with Angie at that very moment. We were inseparable after that. At least for a while.”

You squeeze his hand, not knowing what to say, and he smiles at you before talking again.

“So, Melot is there when I wake up too. He tells me that he wanted to impress the Alpha with a new wolf for the pack. Apparently, Melot thought this would get him some kind of accolades. But, it only pissed off the Alpha for potentially exposing them to humans. Heard they tortured him pretty well after that. Serves him right.

“I just ended up going back to school after everything. Didn’t see Melot much after that, but I did go back to the pack when I started to feel like I was losing my mind. On the night of my first shift, I met Jace. A handful of them were at the place in the woods and said they expected me sooner. I was so sick, thought it was the flu. They took me in and helped me through that first painful transformation. When I was in wolf form for the first time, all I could do was run. I ran through those woods until Jace tackled me and talked me down. He became my brother that night. He took me under his wing and taught me everything he knew. Which is why I called him about our situation. If anyone can help, it’s him.”

“So, was Jace bitten too? Or...can you be born a werewolf?” you wonder aloud.

“I was bitten. Angie, Jace, and Faye were all born with the lycanthropy gene,” he answers, noting your furrowed brow, “The lycanthropy gene is passed down from werewolves to their offspring. Usually lays dormant until puberty. That’s one thing that Teen Wolf got right. The 80s one, not the MTV one.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised that my Wolfie has seen Teen Wolf, but it still makes me feel all tingly, knowing you’ve seen werewolf media. Oh my God, have you seen Twilight?!” you exclaim, suddenly hyper-aware that you’ve gone giddy.

Walter snorts and pulls you into straddle his lap, cupping your face in both of his hands. Pulling you close, he turns his head to whisper in your ear, “Team Jacob.”

You actually swoon, and your little whimpered moan escapes before you get the chance to permit it. Covering your mouth too late, you lean back at look at Walter’s smug face. You swat at his shoulder and the corner of his mouth turns up.

He has you pinned under him on the sofa so fast, you could hear the air whoosh by. He nuzzles his nose with yours, then moves to kiss from your lips to your neck. You turn your head to give him better access, letting your hand tangle in his hair.

He licks and nips at your soft flesh, sucking and biting his way to where your neck meets your shoulder. While his hips are pressing into you, his hand snakes under your shirt to tickle your skin. You chirp when you feel his teeth graze a particularly sensitive spot.

You freeze, you’ve never made that sound before.

Walter groans, he likes the sound you made if his hips grinding into you was anything to go by. He gives little kitten licks at the spot again and you melt under his touch.

“I can smell how much you need me, Pup,” he hums, sliding a hand to cup your clothed sex, “Fuck. I can feel the heat coming off of her–Shit,” He shakes his head, kissing your neck before sitting up and getting off the couch. “Looks like we have company.”

You lean up on your elbows, confused until you hear the monstrous rumble of a motorcycle engine getting closer. You watch as Walter opens the front door and disappears into the yard. Soon, you hear the symphony of howling and grunts. You get up from the couch and walk to the open door when you hear the growling get louder.

From the doorway, you see quite a display of masculinity. Two grown men wrestle in the grass like children, laughing and shouting at each other until they register your presence.

The taller of the two sniffs the air and turns toward you, climbing off of Walter. His piercing green eyes almost seem to glow. A wild mane of dark brown waves with bleached ends frames a masculine face, and a healthy beard outlines full lips. His caramel skin is littered with tattoos from the neck down, a slit in his left eyebrow.

A dark grey v-neck under a vest hugs his built chest, while thick thighs are encased in tight-fitting jeans. A pair of old boots cover his feet, the laces left untied. His long fingers are decorated with a handful of ornate rings and one wrist sports a leather braided bracelet with a wolf charm hanging from it.

His meaty arms cross over his chest and his face splits with a devilish grin, his body is almost bouncing with energy. “Who’s your new friend, Marshall?”

To be continued...

A/N: I really hoped you enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter is already outlined. And just needs to be written. I have a plan, y’all.

A/N 2: Bonus points if you can guess my face-claim for Jace.

**Tag List**

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Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁 If your name is crossed out, I couldn't tag you.

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heartsforvin · 5 months

Note

Hi! an imagine about different times you are respectfully thirsting over vinnie? thanks 😊

SO HOT

i loveeeee this idea ! thank you for the request !! <33

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings; vinnie being his own warning for this one, use of pet names (baby, princess, etc), cussing, mentions of sex, if i missed anything lmk !!

summary; you can’t help but thirst over your boyfriend every now and then

the sound of water running had woken you up. sitting up in your boyfriend’s bed, you rub your eyes to rid the sleep.

looking around the room, you don’t find vinnie anywhere, meaning he must be the one showering.

you stay put in his bed, checking your phone for any notifications that might be important.

about twenty minutes later, you hear the shower turn off, meaning vinnie was now out. you wondered if you should greet him in the bathroom with him fresh out of the shower, or wait for him to come back into his room.

before you can stand up, vinnie makes his way back into his room. a towel is wrapped dangerously low around his waist as he uses another one to messily dry his hair.

you can’t help but stare at how gorgeous he looks. hot, but gorgeous. the way you can clearly see his v-line as he stands in the doorway of his bathroom, the water dripping from his hair onto his toned skin, it was definitely a sight to see.

“g’morning, princess.” vinnie says, shaking you out of your thoughts.

you smile, you can feel your cheeks heat up as you do so, vinnie notices too and smirks at you. “morning.” you reply.

you watch as vinnie walks around his room to find something. “whatcha’ looking for?” you ask him, he turns around to face you.

“i thought i had set some clothes out before i showered,” he replied, walking into his closet. “found em’!” you heard him say.

he walks back into the room with his clothes in his hands, he sets them down on the bed next to you and starts unwrapping the towel from himself.

you go wide-eyed as you see your boyfriend drop the towel that was previously around his body.

“what?” vinnie asks, genuinely curious on why your expression is so shocked. “nothin’ you haven’t seen, plus it is my room.” he adds in a teasing tone.

he was right, you’ve both seen each other naked countless times, and it was his room so you couldn’t say anything.

you watch as he gets dressed, biting your lip at the sight in front of you. once vinnie is fully clothed, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you down to the edge of the bed.

“enjoy the show?” he asks, you blush at how close he is, the way he asks the question, at just him in general.

he kisses you softly, you melt into his touch, wrapping your arms around his neck. once the two of you pull away, vinnie steps away from the bed and says “go get dressed, gonna take you out today.”

with a cheeky smile, you jump off the bed and make your way to vinnie’s closet to get ready for the day.

✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

you sit on vinnie’s bed as he’s sat at his desk, getting ready to stream. you watch as he sets everything up, standing up from the chair every now and then before he starts to grab something.

he’s wearing blue jeans and a zip up hoodie, nothing underneath it.

the jacket is only zipped halfway, the tattoos on his chest are clearly visible to the camera.

watching as he finally starts the stream, you smile to yourself at how effortlessly hot he looks.

he’s not even doing anything that special, just moving his fingers along his keyboard as he plays the game.

vinnie abruptly stands up, cussing at the game. he walks away from his pc, but is still in view of the camera.

you watch as he stretches his arms above his head, making his jacket lift off his body.

the tattoos along his lower stomach are visible now, and you can’t help but want to run your fingers along them.

vinnie catches you staring and smirks at you. you have your bottom lip in between your teeth as you watch him cuss over a silly video game.

it was pretty hot, though. as much as you hated yelling and loud noises in general, you had to admit that sometimes when vinnie got upset, it was hot.

vinnie tells his chat he has to use the bathroom. he turns off his camera since he had a different angle set up this time.

walking over to you, you suddenly feel a sense of anxiety build in you.

vinnie presses his hands on the bed, you’re laying on your back as you look up at him and he looks down at you.

he inches his way down to your level, his necklace dangling as he does so. you smile when you see him inch even further before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

he keeps the kiss quick, but not too quick where neither of you can enjoy it. after a few seconds he pulls away from you.

standing up straight again, he waits for you to sit back up on his bed. once you do, he leans into your ear and whispers. “give me a few hours, then you can take this jacket off me.”

with a smirk, he walks back to his desk, you can’t help but blush. it’s no lie that you want to rip the jacket off him, but you didn’t think you were that obvious about it.

✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

you were keeping vinnie company as he was out in the garage working on his car. it had been a few weeks since he had, due to his recent schedule, but he finally got the time to get around to it.

you had asked him if he wanted you to go out there with him. he had told you it was up to you, but he of course would to have you around him.

so, here you are, sat on a spare office chair as you watch your boyfriend work on his car.

you had no clue what he was doing, only knowing a few things about cars in general, but you just loved watching him.

he wore a white tank top and his usual blue jeans. you could perfectly see his muscles, and you loved every second of it.

you watched as his muscles flexed as he worked in the hood of the car, thoughts arose in your head as you did.

“…hand me that, please?” you heard vinnie say, but only caught the last few words.

standing up, you asked. “what?”

vinnie laughed as he pushed some of his hair out of his eyes. “ can you hand me that wrench please, baby?” he asks you again, pointing to where it is.

you walk over to the toolbox and grab the wrench that laid on top of it. walking over to vinnie, you hand it to him and he smiles.

“thank you, princess.” he replies, kissing your cheek.

you sit back on the chair and scroll through your phone for awhile, occasionally glancing up to see what vinnie’s doing.

when you do, you see he has now moved so he’s under the car. you watch as much as you can as he moves his arms around the car, trying to fix whatever it is that needs fixing.

you love watching vinnie work on his car, it always interested you and made you feel some sort of way.

sometimes he’d try to teach you everything he’s doing if you’re really interested. he’ll go step by step on what he’s doing so you’ll understand.

other days, like today, you would just sit and watch. admire, as you like to put it. vinnie gives you shit and says you’re staring, but you like to say admire. sounds better that way.

although, you do stare sometimes. how could you not? when he works on the hood and his back flexes with every move he makes, you can’t help it.

especially when it gets to the point where he takes his shirt off and he’s just left in jeans, then you really can’t help it. your mind goes crazy at that point.

it’s hard not to go up to him, jump into his arms, and kiss him all over.

“you’re staring again.” you hear vinnie say, shaking you out of your thoughts.

he laughs as you blink a few times before looking up at him with a smile. “you look so hot, it’s hard not to stare.” you reply.

he crosses his arms over his chest and gives you a smile. “i’m sweating everywhere, i do not look hot.” he replies back.

you swat at his arm and he leans down to kiss you. some might find that gross, but the two of you have been together long enough to the point where it doesn’t bother you.

“almost done, then we can have our fun.” vinnie says, giving you a knowing look.

you look at him confused. “don’t pretend like you’re not thinking of fucking me right now, i know how you get when you’re out here with me.” he answers your questioning look.

you blush, hiding your face in your hands. vinnie chuckles and removes your hands from your face. “it’s cute — the way you thirst over me — it really is.” he tells you, making you even more embarrassed.

kissing you quickly, vinnie tells you it’ll be about fifteen more minutes until he’s done with everything.

you were very happy once you got him up to his room later that day.

hiii i hope you enjoyed !! i really liked writing this (:

thank you for the request again !!! <33

TAGLIST: @cosmicanakin , @slvthrs , @jeaunies , @bernelflo , @kriissy4gov , @leqonsluv3r !!!

#vhackerr #vinniehacker #vincent hacker #vvhacker #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker smut #vinniehackerfanfic

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swordsmans · 11 months

Note

do you have any zolu fic recs? 🤔

oh boy do i.

my deepest apologies to others who have asked and only gotten "i promise i'll make a post!!" in response. now... here is my list! 36+ fics, including a few series i'm counting as "single" recs, (+3 not counted).

Spin a Yarn by SrirachaBunny

technically a series, this is a time travel fix-it that has expanded outward from its original premise over the years but is still very much THE zolu fix-it of all time.

Of First Mates and Duty by Whatev3rs

“First mates… we devote our lives to our captains. Our entire beings. We live for them, breathe for them. And they expect us not to fall in love?”

Devotion by BasicallyACat

two part canon compliant series that lives rent-free in my mind. this is my go-to "must read for new zolu fans" fic

without guilt by Augment

Luffy hungers, Zoro thirsts. (+ bonus honorable mention to "But Patience Boasts", which is the sanji-pov portion of this fic and is one of my faves of all time)

got all my attention fixed on you (and you're just where you said you'd be) by nevermordor

Luffy looks again at the bitemarks that he left on Zoro’s wrist. Zoro’s usually hurt, one way or another. Sometimes it’s definitely been Luffy’s fault too, but the bitemarks feel different. (honestly, just read all of nevermordor's fics; they are a fave of all time)

to cut your teeth on love by freckledshoulderblades

Zoro meets Luffy and gives himself over wholeheartedly the instant Wadō is placed between his teeth again. Luffy meets Zoro and decides in a heartbeat that Zoro is his.

tidings of war, tidings of joy by queerweather

Zoro is drenched in sweat already, but at least with his haki holding Luffy’s at bay he isn’t suffocating. And Luffy, damn him, looks completely unruffled.

Don't Go Where I Can't Follow by Leoporidae_Lagomorpha

Because before the Pirate King and the World's Greatest Swordsman there were two lost boys in East Blue. How people grow and promises change. (Zoro finds the color of his devotion.)

Fate and death are made in pairs by demonsLOver

"It's not because of his power or skill. He makes enemies and allies fight for his side. Among all the men of the sea, he has the most frightening ability." Mihawk stated to his pupil. (+ honorable mention to "Forged By Fire" as well)

our shores of starlight (come sailing in) by kurgaya

At Shells Town, Luffy does not meet Roronoa Zoro. Instead, he acquires a sword.

let me carry your scars by arkhamsjason

What Zoro didn't expect, as he made himself comfortable, as so many night before, to keep watch along with Luffy, was that he'd finally have the chance to know what his captain's ruined chest would feel like beneath his calloused hand and guilt filled heart.

and i will learn for you by blueacorn

Zoro will begin to realise that there are other ways to protect.

ship to wreck. by thychesters

Nami is the first one to notice something is amiss, but then given her current competition is Luffy and Zoro, it isn’t surprising. (+ honorable mention to "the salt & the sea.", a reincarnation AU!)

unspeakable love by gadgetronic

A character study with a focus on Zoro that explores promises, sacrifices, beginnings, and devotion.

Precipice of a Change by xpiester333x

Zoro stood there. He was on the precipice of something. One wrong move would send him over the edge into an unknown. He needed to step back, but his feet were locked and frozen on spot. (one of the few AUs to make this list! the characterization here is SPOT ON!)

First Mate, Soulmate by kkuroshii

Fighting with Luffy comes as easy as breathing to Zoro, and he can’t help but wonder what accomplishing his dream with this boy would be like

Robin Knows by leopardgeckoz

In which Nico Robin has always known how her captain and first mate feel for one another, and the scenario's in which the rest of the crew discover it.

with this heart of mine that's guilty; (not remorseful) by phosphenical

It had been two weeks, four days, and twenty-something odd hours since Zoro died. (WARNING FOR PERMA-MCD/HEAVY ANGST)

thank you. / goodbye. by Kenshi

WARNING FOR PERMA-MCD; short and... not "sweet", exactly; the style of this one does nice things to my brain

Blood Song by blue_wonderer

There's nothing to scream about because nothing happened.

blood-spitting loyalty by guiltylights

One day, you’re going to find something worth more to you than your own pride.

axiomatic by grainjew

Reflections on Zoro's devotion.

Providence by taizi

"You know, Zoro," he says, "I broke my end of that deal." 'If you ever come between me and my dream—' Ah, but then, "So did I."

Mutiny by VIKAN

Zoro disobeys a Captain's Order and it's all Sanji's fault. (not strictly ZoLu in the romantic sense, but this fic is a masterclass in both tension-building and how to write an in-character ZoLu argument)

something happened by torkz

Things are changing fast, and Zoro doesn't want to walk into the future with any secrets from his Captain.

Recognition by VickyVicarious

Zoro on titles, dreams, and Luffy. (old-school)

In the Blink of an Eye by InsaneMelon/Acewithapaintbrush

honorable mention to another old-school oneshot from FFnet UPDATE!! this has been re-written and the link has been updated.

Coming Home by thricepiercedpirate

What begins as a happy reunion, because everyone is accounted for and more-or-less in one piece, unexpectedly turns awkward as hell… (the only explicit entry on this list, but i'd be remiss if i did not include the fic that introduced/converted me to ZoLu for life back at the dawn of time... thanks from past-gyro, we wouldn't be here without you, dude.)

Stakes by CaptainJojo

Zoro has a good grasp of what fights are- and are not- worth his time. Or: Zoro gets lost and gets in one (1) fight about it.

Like a Dawning by WhirlyBird70

I am the man who will be King of the Pirates, Luffy said, says, and it’s not a promise but a will, and Zoro knows – knows that of anyone Zoro has ever seen, Luffy is the one to have the Haki of the Conquering King.

invisible threads that bind us by Pure_Night_Fury

Yin and Yang some people would say. Soulmates, others would mention. Or: Nami meets two idiots.

greed by species_baby

Something about his self-assuredness, his conviction makes Zoro dizzy. Although, that could also be the starvation.

Smile, Darn Ya, Smile by sciencemyfiction

Wouldn’t it be fucked up if Zoro was made to eat a smile fruit? And what would Luffy and the other Straw Hats do to help him?

Also, I'm including a shameless and horribly self-indulgent plug for my own stuff, because this is a ZoLu rec list and hey! I write that! lol

poly philtatos (the most loved by far) by swordsmans

25k; Zoro protects the crew and his Captain, and does not realize they will go to the ends of the earth to protect him, too.

ocean theology by swordsmans

40k; canon-compliant enma-asura/nika reincarnation. kinda.

the sea makes bones of bodies by swordsmans

88k; Only one is a monster, but both are a little monstrous. mafia hitman/underground fight club champion/reincarnated moon god x merman/legendary sea monster/reincarnated sun god AU. my magnum opus, probably.

#one piece #zolu #fic recs!#answers #srry this took like. one million hours #days even

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espinosaurusrexex · 6 months

Text

Refuge - a small town crime/love story

BuckyBarnes/WinterSoldier x Detective!Female!Reader

summary: You had a track record of cracking tough cases, but this one proved to be your breaking point. The Winter Soldier was out there, thirsting for blood, operating in total anonymity, and leaving a trail of bodies in the cold Colorado snow. Then, just as a snowstorm was about to paralyse the town, Bucky Barnes appeared on your doorstep – lost, sweet, and in dire need of help. It all seems too good to be true, but what happens when his secrets come to haunt him and Bucky’s blurred past reveals a predicament neither of you saw coming?

a/n: yeah I've been a sad bitch these days...

word count: 7k

warnings: mentions of blood, violence, killing and dying (as well as vague descriptions), probable misuse of police ranks (I don’t know how it works), little use of “Y/N” (like two times), language, a lot of angst and fluff, soft!Bucky, a hint of touch starved!Bucky, no happy ending, smut (unprotected p in v, soft!smut) !MINORS DNI!

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

I recommend playing the songs linked in the text - I listened to them a lot while writing 🧡

Long streaks of crimson soaked the innocent snow beneath your feet.

Whatever happened, it had done so quick. The streaks turned into clumsy blotches and soon there would be evidence of a tired body dragging itself through the inches of snow in vain.

It was too late. You were too late yet again.

Sam threw his hat in the snow with a frustrated groan, his fist clenching so tight you actually heard it pop.

“He’s doing it again,” the officer pressed past his stiff lip, “he’s messing with us.”

“Maybe this time he’s actually gotten sloppy.” Your eyes trained on the dark red contrasting the white.

Something was different about this one. But The Winter Soldier never left his victims capable of running away more than 10ft - it wasn’t his style. So why did this one make it past the tree line?

“Don’t try to sweet talk it, Y/L/N, he knows that we’re on his tracks. And he’s doing this to prevent us from finding him out once and for all.”

Sam’s pessimism could really annoy you sometimes, but it did help solve most of your cases in the past - it turned out that considering the worst-case scenario almost always brought you to the truth. Nevertheless, there was still something off. And you were determined to find out what it was this time.

You turned around and made your way back to the car where blue and red lights silently snook through the woods before you finally turned them off.

“I’m tired of this shit. What are we going to tell Sheriff Rogers? I’m pretty sure he’s about to kick us off the case anyway.” Sam gruffly entered the passenger seat with a frown. He was pissed, and you couldn’t blame him.

“We’re not telling him anything.”

“And how would that work?”

“Just let me talk.” The tires screeched on the tar before you sped out of the woods.

❁ ❁ ❁

Cold. So, so fucking cold.

Bucky’s teeth were cluttering. He didn't know where he was. Nor did he know how he had gotten there. There was barely anything he remembered, really. The past two hours were how far his memory reached and after that? Everything blank. Not blank entirely though. There was fear and darkness but no images, no faces, just unease.

He stumbled past the trees and over roots hiding beneath the thick layer of snow that had accumulated even in the forest. His surroundings looked familiar, but he didn’t know why. His feet, however, seemed to guide him exactly where he needed to be. He didn’t think, just let them be. His hands were aching from the cold, he couldn’t feel them anymore, and his lungs hurt with every icy cold breath. Dusk was already breaking past the horizon, and when the darkness would take over completely, Bucky would be done for.

After another ten or twenty minutes - he really couldn’t tell - Bucky could make out a house sitting at the edge of the woods. There was smoke coming out of the chimney and rising past the threes. The sight alone warmed him a little bit, but his legs were quick to remind him how frozen he really was. He stumbled the distance until he landed on the doorstep.

This was a really bad idea. But then again: he was going to die out here.

His knuckles jammed against the wooden door, and it made pain shoot up his entire arm. But his left one was hurting even more. His whole body was - well... the parts he could still feel.

❁ ❁ ❁

You opened the door, but nothing could have prepared you for what you found. There was a man kneeling on your doorstep. His fingertips peeking out of cut cloves trembling from the cold, his lips broken with blood by the harsh winter wind now nipping on your bare toes as well. The warm light from inside your house illuminated his face and what you saw could have only been described as distress. Eyes laced with fear and helplessness, the man looked up at you. There were snowflakes clinging to his lashes, face pale and lifeless.

“Please,” was the only thing he whispered, but his voice was weak and it made your heart plummet.

“What... what happened?” You stood frozen at the door, bewilderment seeping through your body.

“I-“ But his teeth were cluttering so much you could barely make out his words. You looked past him into the woods and then down the lonely street leading to your house. Nobody there. Another look to the little table by the door, where your gun was hidden. He seemed to be unarmed, too weak to fight, anyways.

God, you hated how your instincts made you check through the whole situation, making the poor man die in the cold outside. But when you were done, and your eyes swayed back to his frame, you exhaled slowly and opened the door a little wider.

“Come in.”

“Th- Thank you- u.” He dragged his tired body over the threshold and crawled to the fireplace crackling in the living room.

You just stood still, closing the door after swiping the woods and the road one more time, and watched him tremble by the fire. After a while - he had stopped shaking - you approached him and he looked at you like a deer in headlights. When he noticed you weren’t doing anything but standing there, he faced the fire again and - that’s when you saw it: dark red staining the back of his head and sticking to his shoulder-long hair. It was hard to make out in the dim light, but he had definitely gotten a good hit.

“Sir, you need a doctor.” Your hand reached for the phone but he was quick to stop it. His ice-cold touch made you shiver.

“No, no doctor.” His eyes looked at you intently, switching left and right. “Please... I just need to warm up. And then I’ll be out of your hair. I’ll leave and you never have to see me again.”

You were staring again. Shocked, confused? Something like that. This man wouldn’t be leaving soon, there was a blizzard already hitting the state lines, and it would be here by midnight.

“Please... no doctor.” His voice was only a whisper now but it pushed through to you more than before.

“...no doctor.” He nodded slowly, relaxing a bit. “But... you are bleeding.”

“I’m okay.” He wasn’t. This man was anything but. Though, somehow, he had this weird aura about him that made you want to stay close to him. You weren’t scared or creeped out - you were... intrigued.

Your head dipped to the side. “Who are you?”

He hesitated. “Bucky.”

“What’s your last name?”

“I... I don’t know.” He looked defeated - stressed - but you deserved answers.

“What happened?”

“I-” he looked up again, pain evident in his stare before he closed his eyes. “…don’t know.”

A nod of your head in understanding. He must be tired, exhausted. You’d leave it for now.

“Would you at least let me clean your wounds?” If they were really as bad as they looked you wanted to get him to a hospital before the blizzard hit. Bucky nodded hesitantly but he didn’t move when you inched closer to take a look at his head.

The wounds weren’t that bad. All the blood in his hair made it look a lot worse, but he still needed stitches. He sat quietly as you carefully threaded the needle through his scalp. It wasn’t perfect but it would do.

Bucky didn’t make a sound, not even when you accidentally slipped and poked him, he was quiet.

“You can take a shower if you like - get all that blood off and warm up completely,” you finally whispered when you cut the last thread. All the other cuts on his face merely needed cleaning and the bruises were already forming, so there was really nothing you could do.

“It’s okay. I won’t be staying any longer.”

But when he moved to get up, it was your turn to stop him. “Do you have somewhere else to go?”

“I’ll manage.”

“You’ll die. Blizzard’s already hit north.”

“I couldn’t stay.”

“You can.” Your hand sank when you noticed he wasn’t making a run for it. “At least until the storm passes.” He just nodded again but a hint of relief flushed through his orbs.

“Clean up, change. I have some clothes that will fit you. The bathroom is the first door on the left.”

Bucky followed your orders and disappeared into the bathroom without another word. You headed to your dresser to get the sweatpants and Hoodie Steve had always stored in there. He wouldn’t miss them, he didn’t stay the night anymore. But now it would serve another purpose.

You made your way back to the bathroom and gave Bucky the clothes, though the door wasn’t closed all the way and you could see the sliver of skin peeking through the crack. His back was littered with red streaks, most likely whip marks, and his left shoulder was scattered in bumpy scarring. He had a metal arm and that was about all you could see before willing your eyes away.

Your gaze wandered to his jacket hanging over the chair and your fingers itched to know more. He was a stranger in your house, after all. A stranger you had chosen to trust, though. But your hands were searching through the pockets before that thought was finished. They were all empty. No wallet, nothing. All you found was a black mask and several compartments for weapons - all empty as well, though.

You exhaled. Who are you, Bucky?

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky let the hot water run down his body. He looked at his left arm, the water hitting with drumming sounds and then repelling from its surface. Despite his lack of memory, he didn’t think it strange that an entire limb of his was missing, well kind of. It was okay - as if he had already coped with it somewhere in the past. The scars didn’t scare him either, or the red lines on his back. They were just there - accepted or not - unbothered.

He closed his eyes and let the water fall on his face. Flashes of a fight lighting before his eyes. Torn between intrigue and horror, it was as if he had opened them.

Please! I’m begging you, please! God, please!

He was back. And the shampoo washed from his face in white bubbles. It smelled good. Like you.

Bucky spent another minute under the water before stepping out and looking into the mirror again. What was he even doing? Dragging an innocent woman into this mess - whatever it was.

His hand ran down his face and the towel hung low on his hips when he reached for the clothes you gave him. They were soft and fit him perfectly.

It wasn’t long until he stepped out into your warm living room again. There was a pillow and blanket on the sofa now, and it looked more inviting than Bucky had seen in a while - at least it felt that way. He didn’t say much when he sat down carefully, feeling the soft comforter under his skin, and watched as you handed him a glass of water.

“I’m right down the hall if you need anything.”

He just nodded.

“Will you be okay?”

He nodded again. But Bucky didn’t know if he was going to be okay. He was confused and scared and surprised you offered him shelter even though you knew nothing but his name. What a kind woman you were.

You smiled sadly as you shut off the light, leaving Bucky to sink his head into the fluffy pillow. The flickers of flames in the fireplace danced on his skin when he closed his eyes, falling into a well-needed and dreamless slumber.

❁ ❁ ❁

He woke to the sound of dishes clinking the next morning, stretching and catching a new fire with his eyes before he peeked over the backrest of your sofa to your kitchen. He was more rested than he’d felt in a long time. And he didn’t know if it was the sheer exhaustion that had him fall asleep so quickly yesterday, or if, maybe, it had been the faint smell of lavender your sheets hosted. Either way, he smiled when he got up, and it felt a little strange to do so.

“Good morning, Bucky.” You beamed over the stove where some eggs were sizzling, making his stomach grumble.

“Good morning,...” He still didn’t know your name. But it was strange to ask now that he had already slept in your home.

You chuckled as your name passed your lips and Bucky’s lips lifted into another small smile.

You ate in silence then. There wasn’t much Bucky had to say and you didn’t seem to be chatty. Bucky didn’t mind. This, your house, had a certain serenity to it. The faint crackling of the fireplace, the homey smell of breakfast in the air, and the rioting storm pouring in soft flakes around it. It felt peaceful and calm and safe - even if he didn’t know who you were... even if he didn’t know who he was.

The day went by peacefully. At one point, Bucky explored your house. It wasn’t big, but full of memories, he could tell. There were pictures everywhere - some of people, some of places. Souvenirs, crafted things. Smiling faces stared at him as he carefully inspected the mantel pieces and something akin to sadness pulled on his heart. Bucky wished he had memories - ones like you did. Ones with happy people and gifted bookmarks. He was sure he did... somewhere. He was someone, right? He just didn't know how to pull that someone back.

It was strange because he had memories. Faint ones. Some that didn’t feel right. His childhood was completely blocked out. He had tried to remember, and things came back to him in tiny pieces. This night he remembered his last name. Barnes. But then his mind associated it with strange callings of his name - urgent, demanding, unfriendly. It didn’t feel nice - none of his memories did.

His finger drove over the small picture of a dog and then he smiled.

❁ ❁ ❁

You sensed Bucky standing at the door as your head hung low above the desk scattered with pictures and leads. You didn’t bother hiding it from him though. Your house was small - it was almost impossible to hide things properly, especially if the days you spent snowed in kept being as quiet and boring as this one. Bucky was curious. He didn’t show it much but you notice the way his eyes scanned the room, how his brows twitched upon your frame above the files. He would catch a glimpse sooner or later.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Bucky wrung his hands. “Am I interrupting?”

He watched as you shook your head, tracing the rim of your empty beer bottle. Careful steps approached you and then he stood behind you, a tense breath resealing when he most certainly took read through the reports. Except, he didn’t. When you turned, you watched him scan the decor on the walls.

And he didn’t stop until you called his name.

“Yes?” His eyes were piercing even in the dim lamplight - they were pretty.

“Is there something you need?”

He looked a little started at your question, his hands still kneading beneath him. It was hard to believe someone as tall and built as him could be shy - but here he was.

“I just wanted to... uh...” He avoided your eyes. “I remembered my last name.”

You smiled, a small jump in your heartbeat sneaking past you. “Oh, that’s great.”

“Yeah.”

“So what is it?”

“What?”

“Your name.”

“Oh, Barnes, Bucky Barnes.” He smiled. “And I also wanted to thank you... for being so kind.” He got shy again.

But you stood and smoothed your hands over his shoulder, feeling him relax a little. “I’m just glad you are okay.”

“Still, it’s not a given and I won’t take it for granted. So, thank you.”

There was a short silence in which he just looked at you and you wondered what else there was to discover about this extraordinary man before you. You could tell there was so much history and depth behind the ocean blue orbs focusing on you, so much more not even Bucky Barnes could access yet, and that made it all the more intriguing.

Bucky shifted again, and then suddenly yet carefully, leaned in to encase you in an awkward hug. It warmed your heart from the inside out, but It didn’t last long before you could feel the tension return to his back.

He pulled back, disturbed. “Everything okay?”

“I’m fine.” His eyes were everywhere but on you. “I’ll let you work.” And then he stumbled past you and out the door as you stood and watched him leave, turning back to your desk to see the array of crime-scene photographs littered on its surface.

❁ ❁ ❁

The hallway was spinning when Bucky made his way back to the living room.

A heavy body fell to the snow, hands shielding features, scrambling backward on the harsh white ground.

“Please! I’m begging you, please! God, please!”

Bucky’s metal hand collided with a face, releasing a loud cracking sound. There was so much blood. So much fucking blood.

The room seemed to cave in. His chest rapidly rising and falling, Bucky made his way to the kitchen where he fell through the backdoor into feet of snow. The cool on his face calmed him down immediately, hitting him like the memory of it had done. He stayed there for a while, just enjoying the silence of the storm and letting the weather tie him to the ground.

That’s what he needed. A reminder, something to ground him, tell him how vulnerable he was, that there was still something human left in him.

His jaw clenched when he scrambled up again, skin burning from the ice piercing through the air. He was okay, he told himself, he was fine.

He shook his head and made his way to the little hut in the backyard, where he took your axe and began chopping firewood. A little distraction would do him good.

❁ ❁ ❁

After a simple dinner, you retreated to the sofa. Bucky hadn’t talked to you a lot and he felt a little bad you were stuck with him for another day due to the storm. But you never lost a word about it. In fact, you acted so naturally about it, as if he were a frequent visitor in your cozy retreat, one he had grown to associate with comfort and warmth in the short time being.

“What’s your favorite movie?” You crossed your legs next to him.

“I don’t know.” Bucky didn’t even remember watching movies ever. And it made him sad.

“Favorite genre?” You tried again. But Bucky just shrugged with a tight-lipped smile.

“I like rom-coms.” You smiled and Bucky noticed yet again how easy it was to spend time with you.

The TV began to play a generic song, but Bucky was too occupied looking at you. He couldn’t remember but he felt as though he had not experienced this sort of kindness in a long time, and it warmed his heart. But in the back of his mind, there was always that feeling of betrayal lurking in the dark. Because he began to remember things - things that lay not too far in the past and that were horrible, unspeakable really.

He had not pieced them together just yet. Just snippets of memories, pieces of conversations rushing through his mind when he was triggered. And it scared him a little bit. But he didn’t want to lay his burden on you.

“You’re not even paying attention.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you tired? We can stop the movie if you-“

Bucky shook his head. “No.” He smiled, not wanting you to leave yet.

“Okay.” You whispered before turning to the TV with a smile. As did Bucky.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky woke with an unusual amount of peace. He felt warm and comfortable - well-rested too. The fire was lazily puffing in the chimney and the TV was off. But there was something, or rather someone else he noticed. He looked down, his eyes landing on your frame, tightly tugged to his body. You weren’t cold, even though the room had cooled significantly since last night, and your face looked so peaceful - unbothered. The sight did weird things to his heart. But his response to it was to sling his arms around you tighter, and for the first time in a while, Bucky felt as though he was protecting something rather than threatening it.

A smile snuck on his lips unawares. You stirred, but neither of you loosened their grip.

“Good morning.” Your head disappeared into his chest again.

“Mornin’” he could feel your frown through his shirt.

For some reason, it just felt natural to stay like this. Neither Bucky nor you moved for a while. You just lay there - not talking, not sleeping - enjoying the calm morning, even though Bucky could see the snowflakes rioting outside the living room window.

His hand dragged up and down your back and you sighed.

“What are you doing today?”

You pulled back a little, watching him, contemplating something - he could see it.

“I...” You trailed off, but Bucky stayed silent.

“You know what?” His eyebrows raised as you scrambled off the sofa and extended your hand toward him. “Come with me.”

And he did. You lead him to your office and Bucky was reluctant at first. The last time he was here he had a panic attack. But your hand was still in his, and it calmed him.

“I’ve been working on a case for some time now... but I’m stuck.” You moved to the desk and Bucky followed. “There’s been a murderer tormenting the town for weeks, driving the whole department crazy. I’ve been looking at these files for days. Maybe a fresh set of eyes can help.”

“You... you want me to help you?” This was new.

“Bucky,” your hand landed on his arm and his eyes were glued to the interaction, “we’re stuck in here for at least another day. Why not be productive? And who knows? Maybe you’re able to help me solve this case.” You smiled.

But he was still hesitant.

“That guy killed my partner’s sister. Anyone that can help us even in the slightest is welcome”

He gulped. “Okay, alright...”

You sat down at the desk, spreading out pictures, handing him files, and explaining what you had gathered so far. Bucky listened attentively. And even though he was a little scared to look at the pictures again, he warmed up to the process you guided him through. Everything was labeled and put to memos.

The process and the document brought him a weirdly familiar feeling but Bucky shoved it off to the side - after a while, even enjoying the puzzle you laid before him.

“This one is unusual... why did this victim get so far?” He mumbled.

“Maybe he’s messing with us...”

“Or he was interrupted,” he stated plainly as he grabbed another picture.

You were silent then, and Bucky looked up at you to find you smiling across the files littered on the floor. “You must have some sort of experience, those are some good observations.”

Bucky shrugged. Whoever he had been in the past was yet to be revealed to him, but he did admit that tactical thinking came easy to him.

“Also this,” he pointed at the latest crime scene photo, “these tracks are inconsistent. Normally, he attacks from the left. But here it’s all over the place. Something must have happened to make him stop and change tactics.”

“Something like...?”

“Maybe he got a hit himself. You said the forensic scientist approximated quick deaths. The Winter soldier always kills precisely.”

You nodded. “One hit and they're done for.”

“That takes a high amount of skill. There are not a lot of things that can interrupt these tactics. Except, if he wasn’t capable anymore.”

“There were no indications of the victims defending themselves. They never had a chance.”

“Were there no indications or was it just not tested anymore?”

“The blood.” Bucky watched as you sprung up. “There was too much blood. Some of it must be his!”

Attagirl. Bucky couldn’t help it, a proud smile painted his features. He watched as you pressed the telephone to your ear, a faint beeping caught by his ears, and then you frowned.

“The lines are dead,” you sighed.

“What are we gonna do now?”

“We have to wait out the storm... There’s no way we’re getting anywhere out there.”

His eyes swayed to the window, where a wall of white soft snow fell unrelenting. He nodded.

❁ ❁ ❁

You were on the sofa again, there was nothing to do. The fire was crackling, and you sat next to Bucky with a cup of tea in hand.

The case didn’t stop swarming your mind though. You finally had a new lead, a small hint that could lead to a suspect and you had no way of contacting Sam or the Sheriff’s department. There was likely nobody working, anyway. Maybe Steve, he was crazy like that - he’d gone out in unholy weather when you had a fight once, just to give you space.

Your eyes wandered around the room as your mind went through the case files again, and then, when they landed on Bucky again, a little shiver ran over your skin.

“Bucky?”

“Hm?”

“Have you... Do you think it’s possible you were the thing interrupting the Winter Soldier?”

He looked at you blankly.

“You were pretty banged up when you found me.” You didn’t try to insinuate anything, you were just a little worried... and curious.

“There were no other tracks in the snow, though.” His shoulders slumped.

“Oh, I don’t know. I just want to-“

His hand found your knee. “I understand.”

And your eyes locked. “Do you not want to know what happened to you?”

“I’ll remember it eventually,” he smiled reluctantly, “right now, I’m actually glad not having to worry about it too much.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don't know... I just prefer your company instead.”

You nodded and bit your lip to stop your smile from spreading. “I’m glad I’m not alone here, too.”

Bucky looked down, hiding his smile in vain.

❁ ❁ ❁

Icy wind whipped around Bucky when he noticed the man lying in the snow in front of him. He was begging, crying, screaming words he couldn’t make out in the storming winds.

And that’s when Bucky realized he was bleeding. Not Bucky, no, the man. He was lying in a pool of his own blood, drawing a growing circle in the snow - growing darker with every drop seeping deeper into the thick white.

So much blood.

Bucky was confused, and worried, and scared. He didn’t know how he had gotten here, and when he moved to help the man, he scrambled away towards the treeline.

Bucky didn’t follow him. The look of utter fear had shaken him to the bone. What had the man been so scared of? Bucky looked down his body, past the heavy vest to a sleek silver knife wedged between gloved fingers.

He stumbled backward. Almost losing his balance as he sped in the other direction. Away from the man, the blood, the sheer horror of the scene in front of him. What had he done? What was going on?

“You need to wake up!” Bucky’s shoulder shook with your touch.

Suddenly he shot up, shrugging you off until you landed on your butt next to the sofa.

He was sweating, heaving, eyes searching the room until he realized that there was no danger and gore around anymore. Just your cozy living room and you. You.

“You’re okay, Bucky. It was just a bad dream.” Your hands were on him again, his covering yours.

“I’m okay,” he reiterated.

“We’re safe here.” You weren’t. Because Bucky was the Winter Soldier.

The realization hit him like a truck, his hands immediately retracting from your skin. His heart began to pick up its pace again. The memories flooding his brain overwhelmed him to the point of dizziness. But he couldn’t be close to you. Not after he had done the unspeakable. Not after he had killed your partner’s sister. This had become too personal.

“I need to leave.” He stood up too quickly, swaying dangerously before scrambling past you.

“You can’t leave yet. It’s horrible outside.” You reached out to him again.

But he shook you off again. “I can’t stay either.”

“Why? What’s the problem?”

Bucky halted, his shoulders sagging. There was no point in keeping it from you. You would find out anyway. And he would leave either way. It was just fair, you deserved the truth, to know you had sheltered an assassin for days.

He turned to you with afflicted eyes. “It’s me,” he whispered shamefully, feeling his eyes fill with tears.

You didn’t ask - just looked at him and swallowed hard. It was crazy how well you had gotten to know each other in the three days you were snowed in. But what was even more unfathomable to Bucky was that you understood. That you knew and didn’t flinch, or scream, or threaten him.

“I... the... my weapons, they’re buried in the woods. It was me, I did it. They made me do it. They–“ A sob broke through his speech.

You stood up to touch him but Bucky stepped back with the shake of his head.

“They can control me,” he uttered and the statement heard out loud made him shiver all over.

You reached out a third time and this time, Bucky didn’t move. He let it happen when your hands encased his cheeks and your lips laid a soft kiss on his jaw. “It’s fine.” Another kiss. “You’re fine.”

“I’m a monster.”

You shook your head with a teary smile.

“They’ll kill me when they find out.” There was no panic in his tone, he had already accepted his fate. The hard part was saying goodbye to you.

“I won't let that happen.” Your forehead pressed to his.

“Why?”

“Because you’re not him anymore. You’re Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky’s heart picked up its pace. Somehow, hearing his name from your lips meant so much more than anything else ever could. And with a taste of hope on his tongue, his hands grabbed your face and pressed your lips to his eagerly.

❁ ❁ ❁

You stumbled back but Bucky held you firmly in his grasp. He sighed into the kiss when you began to move your lips in sync with his, a lonely tear rolling over his cheek and stopping at your thumb.

He was warm and soft, rough around the edges but so sweet. His chapped lips left your mouth; his arms wandered around your body as he held you tightly, face disappearing in the crook of your neck.

Bucky was so full of affection, and passion, you could feel it in every touch he gifted you. You didn’t know how long he had gone without a kind word, without a reassuring smile, but you knew that you would give it all to him in this moment.

“Come here.” His puppy eyes squeezed between your hands, he let you guide his face back to yours where you stole another deep kiss from him.

But you wanted more. Needed to feel him all over - wanted to step into his skin if you could, just to be closer to him.

You guided him back to the sofa until he fell backward with you pressed against his chest. There was not an inch of space between your bodies as your legs tangled slowly. Bucky groaned when his hand tangled in your hair, a soft nudge pushing you to the side until he was almost hovering over you.

“You’re cold,” he stated upon feeling over your goosebumps. And then he, somehow elegantly, rolled the both of you off the sofa and to the carpet in front of the fire.

Your skin was burning deliciously when he removed your shirt carefully, a cool metal hand soothing over the side facing the fire. His hard bulge nudged against your core when his mouth placed soft kisses over your clavicle. Little did he know you weren’t shivering from the temperature in the room, but you wouldn’t protest.

Your heartbeat quickened with every piece of clothing left discarded around you. Bucky was all over you. Lips, hands, legs - a wild entanglement of limbs surrounded every content moan he gifted you and you loved it.

Soft warm kisses placed a firm trail down his body as you worked your way to the hemline of his boxers. You removed them with ease, his hands not once leaving your body no matter how grand your movements. He seemed assured when he could feel you beneath his fingertips.

“Will you stay?” You kissed his hip, hooded eyes looking at him through lashes.

“Anything for you.” His breath was shaky. You moved to kiss his tip, but as soon as your lips touched his red flesh, “But-“ he pulled you up again. “I need you closer.” He smiled.

“Okay.” And then your lips were back on his. His fingers danced around your body until they pulled your underwear off as well.

You parted just to watch as your warm hands guided his tip along your slick folds, his cock witching when he touched your wetness, another shaky exhale escaping his chest.

His eyes held yours when you lowered yourself until he was fully sheathed by you, a heavenly feeling consuming you with the delicious stretch he gave you.

You moaned in unison when you rolled your hips for the first time. Then another, and another. Until you found a comfortable rhythm that had Bucky bury his strong fingers in your hips, guiding you to meet every thrust of his own.

Your name rolled over his tongue as his eyes closed and it never sounded as good as this. He stuttered when you squeezed his cock with your walls, chasing your own high as Bucky fought to hold on.

There was so little talking in this passionate moment but so much felt said at the same time. Every touch of Bucky’s held stories in its wake, every kiss of his lips whispered soft promises to your body. You never wanted to let go again.

Your hand guided his eyes to yours when you felt your insides squeeze unrelenting. Moans being swallowed by another heated kiss, you rode each other through ecstasy. The overwhelming heat of his body and the fire seemed to swallow you whole when your sticky body collided with his only to have Bucky sling his arms around you again.

He kissed your head, whispering sweet nothing to your ear before the aftershocks of pleasure fully subsided.

❁ ❁ ❁

Harsh knocks on the front door ripped you from your desk. You stumbled down the hallway as you tried to get to the intruder faster.

“Y/L/N open the damn door!” You stopped. It was Sam. What was Sam doing here? The storm had begun to soften, but it was still not totally safe out.

A look to your left showed Bucky standing in the living room looking at you with unease written all over him. He scrambled to the wall on the floor when your hand moved to the doorknob. Sam didn’t know. Nobody knew that there had been a man hiding in your house for three days and it would stay that way... for now.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you, too.” Sam tried to step forward but you blocked his way. He frowned. “The lines went dead and I needed to show you this.”

Sam pulled a crumbled piece of paper from his jacket pocket, the silver star shining in the white landscape around him. It had stopped snowing this morning, and his truck was probably the only one making it through the streets.

Suddenly, Bucky’s face stared back at you between creased paper. He was wearing an army uniform, a proud smile decorating his features as he held his hat in his hands. “What’s that?” You swallowed hard.

“It’s him.” Sam showed the picture further. “His blood sample DNA is all over the victim.”

“The blood,” you whispered upon stealing a glance at your living room. “What... what are you gonna do?”

“That motherfucker killed my sister. And I am not going to rest until I’ve ended his life just as he did Sarah’s.” Sam tried to hide the raspiness in his voice at his sister’s name, but he failed.

You couldn’t blame him. Sarah had been a wonderful person. Her death had come unexpectedly for everyone. Nobody could fathom that anybody wished her harm.

I have his last known location. So are you coming or not?”

“It’s dangerous. The roads are closed off.”

“I don’t care.” You snuck another look to Bucky who was just blankly staring ahead now. He looked tense - frightened.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Sam-”

“Don’t even try. This is ending, now.” He stepped back. “So are you coming?” His eyes were piercing. “...or not?”

You nodded with tight lips, gifting one last reassuring smile to Bucky as you reached around the door to grab your jacket and gun. Sam was already starting the car.

“I’ll be back as soon as possible,” you whispered only to watch Bucky’s chest heave with panic. “I’m so sorry. I won’t let him hurt you.”

The car honked before you could hear Bucky’s answer, shoulders jerking as your head pulled from behind the door.

“I’m coming!”

❁ ❁ ❁

“I’m gonna find him, and I’m gonna kill him.” Sam was gripping the steering wheel so tight, you thought it would break. “I’m gonna shoot him in the head, and I’ll watch him die just like he did–“

“Wilson.”

His head snapped to you with fiery eyes. But you were just as upset. The thought of Bucky being killed made you want to throw up. You obviously wouldn’t let that happen. Killing Bucky would do nothing when the actual bad guys were still out there, possibly manipulating a dozen other people into doing their dirty work. Bucky had told you the details he remembered, and it was enough to know that none of it was his fault - and most importantly - that there was a much bigger fish to catch.

Sam clenched his jaw before looking back to the road. The mist had cleared slightly now.

“I don’t think killing the Winter Soldier will solve the problem.” You instantly regretted saying that, because Sam slammed the brakes, making the truck slide on the icy road until it came to a stop. He was looking at you again.

“He killed Sarah. He’s a criminal. A ruthless, cold-hearted serial killer.” There was so much betrayal in his eyes but he averted them again. “Even if I did not have personal reasons... he belongs behind bars at least. But the world would be so much better off if he was just gone.”

“Stop.”

“What?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Oh, really? Then please enlighten me. Because I would really like to know what made you change your morals.”

“You know, you’re not the only one that found out some things while snowed in,” you snapped and watched your partner look down contritely.

“It’s not just him. And it’s not him we need to stop.” You were careful about your next words - you needed to say them but you had no idea how to explain them. “There’s a whole criminal organization behind- ...behind the Winter Soldier program.”

“How?” His teeth were grinding. “How do you know?”

“I can’t tell you that” yet, you added in thought. Though you weren’t sure Sam would ever understand why you sheltered his sister's murderer in your home.

The car fell silent for a moment. But you swore you could hear Sam’s mind working overtime to decide how he would go about this. And then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, he reached for the ignition.

“You’re lucky I trust you,” He muttered before starting the car again, shoulders still tense, and an ever-growing frown on his face.

❁ ❁ ❁

It had taken a good portion of your energy to explain the situation to Sam without revealing your secret. It was hard and tiring, but you had planned a new strategy to approach the case with your partner. And now, several coffees and hours later, when the sun had already set beyond the woods behind your house, you found yourself on your doorstep with a smile. Because you knew that all of it would be forgotten as soon as you had Bucky back in your arms.

“Bucky, I’m home!” You called out before the door fell shut behind you. But there was something different about the place.

Your eyes scanned the living room - no fire, lights out, and Bucky’s makeshift Bed was neatly stacked by the end of the Sofa.

You smiled, still, he had probably finally decided to accept your offer to sleep in your bed.

“Bucky?” You pushed past the bedroom door just to find the room empty as well.

You frowned. You could have sworn he’d be lying there, waiting for you. But the domestic haze your fantasy cooked up in the few days of isolation the storm had brought you seemed to have clouded your brain.

You tried the hut in the yard last - without luck. But it wasn’t until you came back into your house, sitting on the neatly made sofa that hosted a journey of emotions through the past days that the revelation hit you like a truck.

A tear rolled down your cheek as your hands folded in your lap.

Bucky had come into your life like tragedy - sudden and with the force of an avalanche. He had brought you joy, and confusion, and pleasure, and warmth. Bucky had packed a lifetime of experiences and emotions in the span of three days, and then - just like he had appeared - and much like your initial excitement about coming back to him, he had vanished without a trace.

wow... here we are. I've had this in the drafts for a long time and tinkered on it throughout until it turned out this way. I hope you liked it. Please consider showing this post some love (reblog or comment) if you did - it really helps creators on this plattform! Love ya loads ~ℳ❁

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