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lizthewriter · 6 months

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billy loomis, stu macher, and poly! headcanons with reader s/o

billy loomis headcanons with reader s/o

• first of all, billy is actually a pretty intelligent guy - cunning, strategic

• it's why he's always so good at chess (not that he's the biggest fan)

• reads lots of books - obviously horrors and thrillers are his favorite

• a bit obnoxious pissy about horror movies

• he will force you to watch horror movies with him - movie night ftw

• he's also a big trivia fan! loves trivia games, especially horror

• he says he doesn't like music, but secretly he listens to pop and motown - you will catch him singing along to marvin gaye and he will never admit that it happened

• has mediocre grades, despite his intellect - school bores him and he doesn't like to listen to what people tell him to do

• speaking of school, people paint him out to be some kind of "bad boy" but really all he is is quiet and reserved

• the only real reason he became friends with tatum, sid, and randy was because they became friends with his childhood best friend, stu

• he and stu are inseparable and they do everything together

• you'll probably end up spending more time at stu's then at billy's because billy doesn't like people coming over to his house

• mostly because of the fact that it's on the poorer side of town, and that everyone thinks that he has the picture-perfect family

• speaking of this so-called "family," he has major abandonment issues because his mother abandoned him and trust issues because his father had an affair and would barely pay him any attention

• both of these also contribute to his protectiveness/possessiveness

• it's not so much that he doesn't trust you around certain people (he does have intrusive thoughts a lot), he doesn't trust other people around you

• but when he does get insecure and starts to think that you'll leave him, it's more from his fear that he's unlovable and a bad s/o

• that's why he would love an s/o that would take care of him and do all those lovey-dovey things, even if he likes to pretend that he's not that fond of it

• holding hands, going on walks together, date/movie nights, staying in together, sleeping in the same bed, he wants ALL OF IT

• once he gets more comfortable around you and trusts you, he'll open up a lot more - you'll find he's really sweet on the inside, and REALLY funny

• no i swear, he has the best sense of humor - dark and dry, the perfect mix

• he's not really into PDA unless someone's trying to get in your pants, in which case all social conventions are dropped and he WILL shove his tounge down your throat

• this man is a great kisser *chef's kiss*

• his sex drive is at a medium, I'd say

• but damn if this mf isn't kinky as shit

• lovesss degrading you, being dominant, definitely has a size kink, knife kink, predator/prey, edging, he eats that shit up

• he barely ever gets subby - like ever, but once in a blue moon he just wants some slow, soft sex (this usually happens when he's feeling insecure)

• he's a boob guy 1000%

• he's not too into foreplay - don't get me wrong, he likes to make out for a little while and he knows you need time to get ready, but as soon as your wet he's already inside you pounding away

• loves missionary 🤭🤭 he likes to watch your reactions and dies every time he elicits a sound from your mouth

• dirty talks the entire time

• he's a multiple rounds kind of guy too - he may not want sex that often, but when he does, he WANTS IT

• not the best at aftercare, but he does pretty well - he'll clean you up, bring you a glass of water, but he really just likes to cuddle and fall asleep right after all that

• watches you while you sleep - he finds that it calms him, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest

• the biggest morning person ever - the definition of a morning person

• by the time you get up, he's already ready for school and prepared you breakfast

• has a nice car - loves to drive you around

• oh and he LOVESSSSS making you flustered, but in more of a conspicuous, secretive way

• will send you those FUCKING EYES in the middle of biology

• oh and if you sit next to each other in class, he'll place a hand on your thigh and rub circles into it

• he just loves to rile you up and watch you get angry at him (it turns him on a lil' bit)

• requires a kiss hi and a kiss goodbye - it doesn't matter where, as long as it's a kiss

stu macher headcanons with reader s/o

• this man is the legal textbook definition of ADHD, if not autism

• he has trouble paying attention, especially in school - somehow gets amazing grades anyways

• class clown - main goal in life is to make everyone laugh

• he likes books but finds it hard to pay attention to the words on the page - he much prefers audio books! the main way he consumes media

• he loves all kind of music, but especially alternative rock and hard rock (alice in chains' biggest fan for sure; loves to sing "them bones" out of nowhere - "man in a box" is his favorite)

• he also loves horror movies but he doesn't get as technical about it as billy - he'll watch all kinds, but he does have favorites

• also a big trivia fan - loves playing trivial pursuit

• remembers random facts (he watched jeopardy chronically as a child)

• he was babied by his parents a lot as a kid, which is why he's so extroverted and wild (*coughcough* rebellious *coughcough*)

• he's bisexual

• he lovesss doing makeup and also he wears crop tops all the time and he looks MAGNIFICENT in them

• he's very creative - loves to come up with stories and draw, but he's not really an artist per say, more like he likes scribbling random things

• his stomach is a black hole - no literally, this man devours the entire kitchen

• DO NOT LET HIM IN THE KITCHEN IF YOU ARE BAKING - he will eat whatever dough you're preparing behind your back

• loves to tease you and make you flustered, but in a very obvious way

• is VERY into PDA and flirting in public; constantly has an arm either slung around your shoulders or waist and will make out with you in front of his locker if you let him

• man has no boundaries

• also he will shower you with affection and treat you like a queen; worships the ground you walk upon

• he. loves. matching. clothes. will cry if you don't wear matching pj's with him

• you will chronically be at his house - he has beautiful puppy eyes, so it's easy to convince you to come over every day

• he loves having you sit in his lap or lay across his chest

• he also lovessss playing with your hair and is actually really good at braiding and all that (he has two older sisters)

• foreplay is his favorite thing in the whole world

• ass, boob, thighs? how about ALL

• absolutely a switch!

• prefers to eat you out and loves to overstimulate you mmmmm

• he has a very high sex drive - oh yeah, he's at it every night

• also prefers missionary, but likes you on your stomach, ass up, fave shoved into the pillows (his only purpose: to fuck you into subspace)

• he's pretty kinky too, but with slight differences from billy - instead of edging he loves overstimulation, rimming, marking, praising

• will make up any excuses to get in your pants and will also ask at the most random times - also, if you have a period doesn't care about it whatsoever, will still have sex with you

• aftercare KING!! he has everything prepared for when your done - he'll clean you up, he'll put the sheets out to be washed, he'll grab water and snacks, cuddle with you, and lay up for hours just talking

• he loves one on one conversations between the two of you, especially at more romantic spots like on the roof and under the stars

• will romance you - coincidentally (not at all) loves valentine's day

• you must give him your upmost attention - he loves ranting to you since you're the only person who listens to him and laughs at his jokes

• you will catch him staring at you with lovesick puppy eyes and he doesn't even care if you notice him, he just has an infinite love for you

poly!billy loomis and stu macher headcanons with reader s/o

• together they are certainly a duo - their personalities really balance them out perfectly

• stu is loud and hyperactive, billy is quiet and reserved

• but stu does bring billy out of his shell and billy reigns stu in when he goes too far - all in all, they make each other better

• you all bang out at stu's house - most of the time, just to chill, but bill insists on weekly movie nights and stu insists on weekly board game nights

• if you're not on good terms with your family, stu's welcomes you in like you're their own kid (billy had basically been their son for years)

• billy loves halloween and while stu loves halloween, he's also a big christmas person as well

• stu really just loves holidays and anything that gets them off of school

• whatever shenanigans stu is up to, billy pretends to dislike it but he goes along for a reason, doesn't he? he kind of likes indulging in stu

• they love taking you on car rides around town

• stu buys you all matching shirts and pj's, much to billy's horror

• stu is just constantly buying the two of you random shit

• "i saw this and it reminded me of you guys!"

• usually the way sleeping together works is stu is on the left, you're laying across half of his ches, and billy is on your right with his arm slung around your waist

• stu is constantly warm (why he has his shirt off half the time) and billy had cold hands (will place them unprovoked on the back of your neck)

• if you bake, they work together to steal your dough and eat it

• oh my god, if you go somewhere to get clothes, they will be trailing right behind you and wait for you outside the dressing room to out their two cents in

• billy was kind of dragged along - he truly thinks you look good in anything no matter what, but stu actually offers you good fashion advice

• "hmm . . . no, that red really isn't your color - they have that dress in a blue you look good in, why don't I go grab it for you?"

• billy and stu make sure your birthday is really special

• their goal is just to make you feel loved, accepted, and respected in general

• together, they are both VERY possessive over you, however - so PDA is a must

• they will make it plainly clear to everyone that you are THEIRS and not to be touched

• constant sex - no seriously, be prepared

• I've already made it clear what they both like individually

• but, yes, they both love to tease you - foreplay is a must, and they'll draw it on for a while to get you desperate

• most of the time, they're both dominant in the bedroom, but I can see you and billy turning the table on a subby stu (or in the case of billy being a sub, soft sex with all three of you)

• they are both brat-tamers, but stu's the nicer one

• however, billy is a bit of a brat sometimes (will never admit it but he would die to be punished by you and stu)

• they're both into bondage . . . I think that was a given

• hours and hours and HOURS

• also everywhere. in the kitchen, on the couch, in the bedroom, hell, in the bathroom, they will take you EVERYWHERE

• like I said, they're both pretty good at aftercare

• they love to spend time with you and cuddle - billy likes to trace your skin with his finger, especially your back, while stu likes to play with your hair

• you will fall asleep together like this

• stu would probably be the first person to say "I love you"

• it might take a while, but billy will too eventually

• they just want all of you to be happy and that's all that matters :)

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here2bbtstrash · 1 year

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crybaby (explicit)

genre: all pwp all smut babeyyyyyy

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.

word count: 4.3k

contains: explicit sexual content!!!!!! like that's the whole fic lmao 😵‍💫 established relationship, marathon sex, wrist restraints/bondage, cocky yet eager sub!jungkook 🥵, soft dom!reader but she can be a lil tough, clothed tit play, objectification, she calls him bunny which i think is cute 🥺, spitting, dick riding, unprotected sex, fingers in mouth, humping/grinding, jk has a nipple piercing 🙈, overstimulation/multiple orgasms - for both of them hehe, vibrator use, jungkook (and reader!) pushing himself to his limits bc..... he's jungkook, he cries 🥲, reader finds it hot 👀, a lottttt of sweat & cum lol, cum licking/eating, blowjob, maybe some subspace if you squint, winners never quit 💪, talk of coming dry at the end, jk is kind of a little shit lmaooooo - alright i think that's it 😩

A/N: not me barely managing to get this up before the ticket sales start 😅 happy hunger games to y'all who have codes!!! this fic is a birthday gift to my love, my angel, my cunning linguist @moni-logues 💜 HAPPY (yesterday) BIRTHDAY bb, can't wait to marry you on our first date, it is the joy of my life to build castles in the air with you~

and god bless jk for his lives the past few weeks bc they breathed so much life into this regular degular "sub!jk" fic idea. i'm v obsessed with his personality and the way he always pushes himself "just a little more", whether it's in staying up til 5 am singing karaoke on his couch or giving his absolute all in a workout. just so in love with our bunny tbh, so i hope you enjoy this spicy version of him too!! 🥰

read on AO3!

~*~

You know your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.

He stays up late even when he’s exhausted, likes to do his workouts to failure, could spend hours in a tattoo session with the needle pressed to his skin and his bones humming from the buzz. Always holding out for as long as he can, always wanting just a little bit more before he calls it quits, even when it’s hard, even when it hurts. Because he wants to test his limits.

And today, you want to test them, too.

That’s why you text him to meet you in the bedroom, let him find you in nothing but one of his oversized Carhartt shirts, kneeling up on the bed as you affix a pair of purple silk restraints to the headboard.

There’s the soft creak of the mattress from Jungkook’s added weight, and you feel the heat of him as he crowds you from behind, hands dragging up the curve of your hips and taking the hem of your borrowed shirt with it.

“This was the emergency, huh?” The low murmur of his voice is chased by the cool touch of his lip ring as he drags his mouth up the nape of your neck. A blossom of arousal starts to unfurl in your core. “Wanted to use these?”

“Yeah,” you answer, feigning nonchalance as you give the silk a firm tug to test that it holds. Satisfied, you let yourself sink back into Jungkook’s touch, dropping your head against his shoulder and smiling when he leans down to brush his lips over yours. He hums a soft little sound into your mouth.

You cup your hand to the nape of his neck when you pull away to finish the thought. “Thought we could try them on you.”

The words are seemingly all your boyfriend needs to hear; he drops down onto the mattress so hard that he bounces a little. You can’t help but laugh at the way he scrambles to strip out of his sweatshirt, like he’s being timed, then hurriedly centers himself on the pillows, eyes glinting dark with desire.

When you first started talking to Jungkook, everything about him made you expect that he would be the one to call the shots. The good looks, the tattoos and piercings, the muscles— and definitely the motorcycle. But once you’d sat across from him at dinner on your first official date, only to watch him blush and fumble his way through a conversation, you started to suspect that maybe he preferred to follow rather than lead.

That thought was certainly confirmed the next time you saw him out in public: it’d been a full two weeks since your first date, with nothing but radio silence between you since. You were admittedly maybe a little too drunk when you spotted him out with his friends at the same bar you’d been dragged to by yours— drunk enough to have no problem walking right up to him to read him for filth, in front of all of his friends, for ghosting you.

Except he’d just blinked those big brown eyes up at you, mouth dropped open in disbelief, and quietly admitted that he’d been waiting all this time for you to text him.

One of his friends had clapped him on the back, laughing loudly as he corroborated Jungkook’s confession. “He’s been having midnight karaoke pity parties because he never heard from you. Please take this boy out again before his neighbors have him evicted!”

That night told you everything you needed to know about how the dynamics in your relationship would work out. That if you wanted something, there was a very good chance Jungkook wanted it, too.

Which is why it doesn’t surprise you that your boyfriend is already sprawled out half-naked on the bed beneath you, arms folded behind his head in a way that makes his biceps bulge, dangerously attractive.

His mouth pulls into a cocky, flirtatious grin. “Ah, so you wanna use me?”

“I do,” you murmur, straddling your thighs over his torso and leaning up to take the smooth purple silk between your fingers. He offers you one hand before you even have to ask for it, and takes advantage of the other’s last few minutes of freedom to paw at you over your shirt. His tattooed fingers seek out your breast and squeeze, his thumb flicking lazy strokes over your nipple.

You tug the knot of the restraint to tighten it, then look back just as Jungkook closes his lips around the clothed bud of your breast. The rough drag of cotton against your sensitive skin makes you hot all over, your nipple stiffening easily at the rub of his insistent tongue.

“How’s that? Too tight?”

He smirks with your tit still in his mouth, soaking a wet spot into your shirt, teeth scraping gently. “Could be tighter.”

“You are such a show-off,” you huff, more endeared than aggravated as you redo the knot, this time as tight as you can manage. Jungkook pulls against it teasingly, but it does actually seem to hold him in place, and you can feel a dull thud between your legs at the flex of his muscles on full display, the image of him already half-helpless beneath you.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook,” he says, as if in explanation, giving your breast a final playful jiggle before you tug his other hand off to tie it up, too.

“Well, Jeon Jungkook,” you retort with a smirk and a grunt of effort as you lean over him to tug the knot tight. You glance down to find him already using the leverage of his restraints to pull himself up so that he can continue to nuzzle his face into your shirt between your tits, abdominals shaking a little from the effort, undeterred despite the loss of both of his hands.

You take his jaw in your grip and scoot yourself further down his body, dipping in to plant a kiss on his soft lips.

“Are you gonna be a good little toy for me?”

“Uh-huh,” he grunts, and you enjoy the tease of hovering just past where he can reach, watching him strain up toward your mouth to seek another kiss and fall ever so short.

You can feel arousal already dripping from your folds as you slide further down the bed, slipping off from on top of Jungkook to easily rid him of his joggers and briefs. His dick smacks against his stomach, thick and hard; wet, too, at the pretty brown tip. You toss his clothes over the edge of the bed, then strip your own shirt to follow before lowering yourself between his spread legs.

The muscles in Jungkook’s thighs tighten with visible anticipation as you hover above his cock, letting the heat of your breath fan out over him, not unlike the warm afternoon air leaking in through the cracked bedroom window, the first taste of spring. You can hear the wet clicks of Jungkook’s tongue in his mouth.

“Easy, bunny,” you murmur, and then you work up a mouthful of saliva and spit it right onto the head of his dick.

He hisses in a breath at the splatter of it, then gasps a soft little sound when you take him in your hand to slip your fist down the length of him. That’s Jungkook all over; always so eager, always so sensitive.

“What do you think?” you muse, your mouth ticking up as you feel Jungkook’s hips roll into your grasp. “Think it’s ready for me, baby?”

“‘Sready,” he grunts, teeth clenched. “Use it, jagi.”

You waste no time, crawling back up Jungkook’s body to settle your hips over his, flattening your palms against his chest. He’s still squirming, thighs flexing against the bed as he rocks up in a desperate attempt to find the wet heat of your cunt, and you giggle as you work yourself backwards until the head of his dick catches on your entrance.

It’s a bit of a stretch, but you’re wet enough to take it. You bite down on a smug smile as you manage to seat yourself on him hands-free.

“Fuck, love when you do that.” Jungkook’s voice is a low growl, and you slide a hand up the firm definition in his chest and slowly start to rock yourself along his length. His cock fills you up like he was made for it; you can feel every detail of him drag against your ridges, trailing sparks of pleasure as you tilt your hips to drive him right into your sweet spot.

Jungkook’s head kicks back against the pillow as a groan rips through him. There’s a gentle crease in his brow, furrowed in the way that tells you it’s so good: the tight heat of your pussy, the slick stretch of it when you work it on him. You ride him rough, make him take it like a good boy.

Another noise stutters out of Jungkook, chased this time by a huff of breath that it takes you a second to realize is a laugh, the tone caught halfway between shy and horny. You watch the way he squirms, restless against his restraints, like he can’t help himself.

He answers before you can ask. “The way your tits— fuckin’ bounce— fuck, I wanna touch you.”

The feeling sinks in as you watch him writhe beneath you, as you shove your hips back harder to pull more desperate sounds out of him. It’s fun, not letting him have what he wants, makes you drip that much more down the length of him.

“You can’t.”

“I know,” he grunts, wrists tugging uselessly. “It’s hot— that I can’t.”

“It is,” you concede, feigning composure despite the hitch in your breath, the way you’re already close to the edge and pushed that much closer by having Jungkook like this. Tied up, all yours, free to do with as you please.

And still fighting against his fucking restraints.

“Think I could rip these?”

It’s like your body acts faster than your pleasure-driven mind can keep up with: all at once, you’re tracing the pouted curve of Jungkook’s bottom lip, then slipping two fingers past it into the heat of his mouth.

“Shh, bunny,” you murmur. He blinks up at you, glassy-eyed as you pet over his tongue, all lush and wet on your fingertips. “Toys don’t talk.”

You press down more firmly as if for emphasis, enjoying how his soft parts give so easily to your touch, and then Jungkook outright moans around your fingers in his mouth.

The needy little sound makes your pussy pulse hot between your thighs.

“Fuck,” you hiss as you take him to the hilt, changing the stroke of your hips to grind against your toy, used solely to get yourself off now. Humping, really, rubbing your clit over the smooth skin of his abdomen where he’s blooming feverglow, flushed with need. Jungkook’s eyes flicker back in his head at the way your pussy’s taking him, squeezed tight like a vice and gushing wet. Working raw sounds out of him, his jaw gone slack; you can feel the blunt edge of his teeth and his heavy, shaky breath on the palm of your hand.

Your thighs shift to spread wider and the next drag of your clit is at just the right angle that pleasure surges up in you, undeniable, overwhelming. It’s all you can do now to chase your release, to keep rocking yourself into it, Jungkook’s thick cock plugged up inside of you and drool slicking out of his mouth to drip down your wrist.

“Gonna make myself come on my pretty little toy,” you manage to gasp.

Jungkook’s eyes find yours, burning intensity, the way he gets, and then he closes his lips tight around your fingers in his mouth and sucks, as if he’s begging to be used, and it sends you over the edge all at once. Your head tips back as your orgasm kicks through you, white noise pleasure, enough to get lost in.

Hips still rolling, you grind yourself through it, the waves of your climax swelling and receding again, until you finally drop forward against Jungkook’s chest, breathless and buzzing all over.

You let your fingers slip out of his mouth, exhale a laugh as they skip over the defined ridges of his stomach when you wipe your hand dry, taking full advantage of the fact that he’s powerless to stop you.

“Shit, that was hot.”

Jungkook’s voice is hoarse with desire as you shift to find the curve of his neck under your mouth, trailing kisses until your lips brush over the pretty lines of ink just behind his ear. He’s still thick and stiff inside you, with a steady pulse-throb that tells you how badly he needs to come, how worked up he is from being used as your personal hump-toy.

“Yeah,” you echo, paired with a tentative rock of your hips that makes your cunt flutter, overstimulated, tugs a little whine out of Jungkook, too. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth as you breathe against his flushed skin.

“Think I— wanna keep using my toy. Kinda feel like being greedy.”

Jungkook’s cock twitches, shameless, at your admission, again when you flick a thumb over the silver jewelry studded through his nipple. There’s a part of you that wants to keep him like this, his leaking-hard dick filling you up while you purr nasty shit in his ear, just to see if he can come from it.

“Might ride it until I break it.” You scrape your teeth up his neck and he moans. “Gonna take all I can give you, bunny?”

His throat jumps visibly as he swallows, fights to gasp a desperate “uh-huh”. Answers with his body, too, arching up to press himself deeper into you, rubbing the slick, hot tip of his cock into your front wall in just the right way to melt pleasure down your spine. You reward his eager submission with a soft kiss, then lick along the seam of his lips, enjoying the sweet little noises that pour into your mouth when you open him up.

Still intertwined, his tongue stroking over yours, your hand goes fumbling for the nightstand, comes away with the slender cylinder of your vibrator, and switches it on before slipping it down to press between your bodies.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook groans as you nestle the shuddering bullet between your folds and find the bud of your clit. You know he can feel it too from the way his hips jerk beneath you, the steady buzz engulfing his cock as you squeeze your pussy around him, all lush sensitivity from your first orgasm. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“You can.” The words are hardly more than a warm exhale from your mouth to his, your lips brushing. “But I’m not gonna stop.”

You don’t give him time to respond or even heave in another gasp of air before your thumb finds the button at the base of your vibrator, clicks it once, then again.

“F— ahh!”

Jungkook’s body jolts like a live wire as he falls apart beneath you. You sit up to take in the whole of him, your free palm slipping to the jut of his hip, fingertips splayed out and pressed heavy to anchor.

Pinned down and helpless, he trembles through the hot rush of his release, dick buried deep and pulsing as it all comes spilling out of him.

“That’s it, baby,” you coo. Your nails scratch lovingly against his skin to coax him out of it— taking such good care of your toy. His breath is punching out of his chest in these ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he whimpers through the comedown. So fucking beautiful like this.

The hum of the vibrator rolls through you, strong enough with the change in angle that your eyes drop shut to focus on the feeling.

Jungkook whines when you circle your hips with him still tucked up inside of you— it’s a wrecked little noise, high and sweet, underscored by the thick squelch of his cum starting to leak back down his shaft. Your thighs tense just right from the filthy sound of it, and then it’s all throbbing velvet glow in your core as you clench up and come on his cock again.

“Fuuuuuck, bunny,” you groan up to the ceiling, your head tipped back as it washes over you. “God, yeah.”

You flick the vibrator off when it gets to be too much, let it go rolling down the mattress— the bedroom feels bigger for the silence. Sweat slicks at the back of your knees, warm spring breeze still licking through the window to flutter the sheer-gauze curtains.

You’re fluttering too, all over: the kick of your heartbeat, the breath stuttering out of your lungs. The throb of your cunt, split open and drooling out juice, messy-wet fresh fruit.

The sound of the bedsheets shifting has your lashes flickering open again, and there’s Jungkook. Dark hair fanned out on the pillow, wrists bound, and that look in his eyes. Like he can take a little more. Like he’s waiting for your cue. Like there’s this whole-heart want brimming up inside of him, making his blood run hot.

He’s still hard between your legs.

“Go on then,” you tell him. “Give me another one.”

With a concentrated growl, Jungkook flattens his feet to the bed, grips tighter to his restraints for leverage, and starts to pound up into you. You can feel an overstimulated shudder in the stroke of his hips, how his cockhead twitches, sensitive, as it rubs over your g-spot. But he doesn’t stop; doesn’t even lose his rhythm.

He fucks you like a machine, and it’s all you can do to brace your palms against his chest and tip forward, rocking yourself down to meet him thrust for thrust.

The harsh slap of body on body is almost enough to drown out the rest: your open-mouthed panting, Jungkook’s groan when your nails dig crescent moon slivers into his tan skin, the gravel edge to your words, “Yeah, like that, fuck me just like that.”

It takes you a second to notice, the sound buried beneath it all, but then it floats through— Jungkook’s sucking his breath in through his teeth now, his jaw tight. You can see the jump of a muscle working there.

“Does it hurt, baby?” you gasp, more air than voice.

Jungkook’s head drops back against the pillow, brow pinched from the focus of keeping his pace steady. He’s breathless, too, when he answers: “Feels good.”

“Feels good because it hurts, huh? Is that how you like it?”

A strangled noise tears out of his throat, and he shoves up even harder, like he wants to fuck you into the shape of him. You splay one hand over the column of his throat and watch his pretty brown eyes blink-blink back at you, and then you have to bury your moans in the crook of his neck as you come hard.

The world around you returns a little at a time. First, the tremble of your tired thighs, the dull ache that’s already started to bloom at the bend of your knees. Then, Jungkook’s body curved up against yours, hips still slow-rolling as you exhale in hot, jagged bursts against his skin. There’s the distinct drip of his cum sliding out of you, and all the sticky-wet places where it’s slicked up the swell of your ass.

“Shit,” you laugh when you manage to find the breath for it. “That was crazy.”

Jungkook shifts a little, but doesn’t respond, and then he makes this wet, soft gasp. You realize he’s shaking beneath you.

You sit up so fast the room spins; your tether is Jungkook’s face, cupped lovingly now between your palms.

“Oh, baby.”

A fat teardrop traces a path down his cheek. Another threatens the dark border of his lashes. He can’t wipe them away with his wrists tied up, but you can see him trying to hold back even as a sob shudders through him, his chest heaving.

“You okay, my love?” you murmur, swiping a thumb across his face. He sniffles, nods, hiccups a little. The tip of his nose is flushed pink. “Shoulda told me to stop, if it was too much.”

“It feels good,” he insists, and his voice cracks around the words. “It’s just a lot. But ‘m not— don’t wanna stop.”

“No? You sure?”

Jungkook sucks his lip ring into his mouth as he nods again, sniffs again. That sends a bolt of something through you.

“You’ve been so good to me,” you praise, and you tip your ass back until his softening cock slips out, smeared glossy-white with your shared release. Jungkook’s still wound-up, pulled so tight inside himself that he flinches when you slip a hand down to ease his legs apart, sliding lower on the bed to slot yourself between them.

“Can I take care of you, bun?” The question’s posed sweetly, chased with a flutter of your lashes and kisses dropped down on the flat plane of his abdomen. “I’ll be gentle.”

He whimpers— answers in the way his hips lift up to meet your mouth.

Your hands press flat to Jungkook’s broad thighs, and you can feel the overwhelmed static-shiver beneath your palms, little tremors that jolt through his muscles. Head dipped low, you drag your tongue up his length and it punches a thick sob out of him, hips stirring like he’s trying to crawl up the bed. But you just keep going, pin him down and make him take it, working broad flat stripes over the whole of his shaft, root to tip. Tasting him, salt and slick and your own heady flavor; you lick him clean.

Jungkook comes quietly this time, feet flexing restless on the bed as you tongue it all out of him. You swipe two fingers through the mess on his stomach and suck that up, too.

Humming around the digits in your mouth, you surface from between Jungkook’s legs to take him in: eyes closed, face wet with tears. You can see the rise and fall of his chest as he gasps for air, shaky, coming down from it.

“Alright baby,” you soothe, shifting up to straddle his chest, knees sinking into the sheets. “All done now, just breathe. Gonna untie you.”

Reaching up, you gently tug open the knot on one restraint, then the other, easing Jungkook’s limp arms to the mattress. Your thumbs find his wrists to massage soft love-circles in case he’s gone numb there, gently coaxing him back to earth.

“Did so good for me, bunny.”

There’s a whimper, and then Jungkook’s surging up to kiss you, forceful enough that you give a little hum of surprise against his lips.

His hands are all over you, all at once, tugging at your legs to drag them forward until you’re flat on your back on the mattress. Your sore thighs shake when he shoves them up and apart, and then a sharp buzz rolls right over the bud of your clit and you keen. Fuck, when did he even grab the vibrator?

“Wanna make you come again,” he pants, and you smile even as your spine arches off the bed. Of course. You should’ve known.

It’s Jungkook all over, you think, hyper-focused on your pleasure even when he’s out of commission, and then you feel the head of his cock push inside and you both gasp. Your cunt aches, so swollen that it’s like he’s stretching you out all over again when you take him to the hilt.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. Jungkook’s hips snap, punctuated by a strangled grunt of effort, but he keeps going, making soft little sweet-pain whines with every thrust, brow scrunched as he brute-forces his way well past overstimulation.

He’s still crying, you realize.

Tears roll down his face and drip onto your collarbone, and everything’s somehow hotter for it. His length is slick, painted in the stored-up remnants of his cum, and you can hear the squish of your folds at the base of his cock each time he fucks it all back into you, so dirty it makes your head spin.

“J-just like that, baby,” you groan, overwhelmed; you can barely get the words out. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Jungkook buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you can feel him shaking, dripping, still rabbiting his hips into you, and then the hum of pleasure reverberating through your body explodes. Your clit throbs with an orgasm that feels endless, dizzying, divine. Jungkook outright sobs as your walls pulse pulse pulse around him, begging for every last drop.

When it’s all too much, you swat at his hand, mumbling shapes that aren’t words until the vibrator’s switched off and tossed away. He pulls out with a thick wet sound and the hiss of his breath between his teeth.

Together, you come down slow. Exhaling staccato, limbs tangled, bodies flushed and sweat-sticking.

Jungkook moves first: flops onto the mattress next to you, entirely exhausted, the way you’ve seen him get after a particularly rough workout. Scrubs at his face with one hand, this shy laugh fluttering out of him. “Can’t believe I cried. Ah, so embarrassing.”

You turn onto your side, tugging his hand away so you can press a kiss to his open palm. “Don’t ask me why but… in the moment? Very hot, actually.” A flush colors his cheeks and you giggle. “My perfect little crybaby.”

He flashes you his signature cocky grin, eyes squeezing shut as it morphs into something nearer to a wince. “Fuck, I’m so sweaty.” A breathless gasp, again. “And my dick hurts. I think I came dry that last time.”

“Poor baby,” you coo, not quite sincere. “You really could’ve stopped at… what, three?”

Eyes closed and still smirking, he shakes his head, damp hair falling in his face. “No I couldn’t have— I’m Jeon Jungkook.”

“You certainly are.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader

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lokisgoodgirl · 6 months

Text

Harvest: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (7) Fresh off Loki's revelation, its time to save Colin Robertson. Oh...and some other things too, I guess. Warnings: Minors DNI. Ex-Loki (?) Language. Mild angst. Plans and smug rehashing of plans. Soft smut. Domestic fluff. Sassy Satchel. (w/c 6.2k) Recommended Folklore Track: Invisible String

Despite protestations, Steve had set up a perimeter and concocted a list of bird-themed call-signs. He walked thirty meters ahead of you and Loki.

Every ten paces, the captain spun in a shifty circle and beckoned you on. “Oh, for goodness sake,” Loki grumbled as he re-hoisted a limp Colin Robertson across his shoulders. The man was drooling on him.

Thor brought up the rear of the rudimentary formation, ambling at the back with his hands in his pockets. The hat was still drawn low over his brow. “He feels awful,” you muttered. “As he should,” Loki said stiffly. “Thanks to him, this mortal finds himself at the mercy of another of his cunning plans. A perilous state indeed.” “You care,” you mumbled with a gentle smile. Loki narrowed his eyes playfully. “I shall have to dial it back a little, lest I become soft.” “Not much chance of that,” you whispered to yourself. Out the corner of your eye, you saw Loki smile.

From ahead, Steve released a strangled caw.

“What one’s that?” Loki drawled. The tap of Colin’s dead-weight hand sounded against his back with every step.

You frowned, looking around. “People? Aircraft? I can’t remember.” “The car.” Loki said flatly, pointing to a bright blue blob in the distance. From behind them, a crunch of running footsteps approached. “Almost time for the commencement of the plan, brother.” “It’s a terrible plan.” Loki snipped. Thor rolled his eyes. “Ye of little faith,” he rumbled confidently. Ten minutes later, the five of you hung in various stages inside and outside the Fiat 500. Rogers had pushed the front seat as far forward as it would go, climbing in to the back. Loki was positioned already behind the passenger side, crammed against the wall. “Just put him in the trunk,” Loki chided for the fourth time. “Oh pish, Laufeyson” Steve snapped. “The man could have a spinal injury.” Loki threw up his hands in resignation.

You leant against the bonnet, one of Colin’s arms draped over your shoulder. The other hung around Thor. The man drooped between you like a scarecrow. “Places,” Steve announced confidently before his face lowered and he sidestepped into the Fiat backseat. All you heard were huffs from Loki as Rogers shuffled into the middle. It was going to be tight. You and Thor moved forwards, ignoring the sad drag of Colin’s walking boots on the dirt track. With a little manoeuvring, the hiker was deposited in the back seat. His face smooshed against the window, faint clouds of condensation forming on the glass.

“God, I wish I had my phone.” you murmured to Thor as you drank in the absurd sight. Loki was staring pointedly out the window, shoulders scrunched to take up as little space as possible. Rogers face had flushed, hoiking the unconscious man further on his side.

Thor chuckled, gripping the open door. He leant towards you conspiratorially. “Gird thy loins, sister” he hummed. You grimaced. The passenger seat was as far forward as it could go, with Thor’s knees drawn up to his chest.

You sighed as you slid into the drivers side. The muscled pressure of Loki’s legs protruded through the back of your seat. You cleared your throat, fiddling with the radio. “You do realise, that if the police stop us then we’re up shit-” “-crud,” Steve cut. “-crud creek without a paddle?” Loki snorted with genuine laughter. You bit your lip, realising that just maybe everything was going to be alright. And not just for Colin. “Onward!” Thor boomed. Everyone groaned, covering their ears.

You drove cautiously through winding one track lanes. The hedgerows were in full autumnal blossom now. Gold and burnt orange foliage simmered in speckled sunlight. In the back seat, Colin was stirring. “We don’t have much time,” Steve’s worried voice chimed. He stroked Colin’s cheek. “It’s alright, pal. We’ll get ya where you’re going.” In the rear-view mirror, you saw Loki throw him an incredulous scowl.

“Ye Olde Fighting Cocks,” Thor read as the swinging pub sign grew closer. He laughed to himself, slapping his knee and almost hitting his face on the rebound. “Just like us, brother.” In the back seat, Loki scoffed. “Let’s just get this over with,” he muttered. You pulled into the carpark. It was busier than you would like. “Okay, just like we talked about,” Steve started. “Thor – you commandeer a table outside. Away from any hubbub. Agent, you’re on drinks duty. Loki and I will position Mr Robertson and get the heck outta there.” Everyone mumbled agreement. It wasn’t perfect, but it was visible. And it beat leaving him on a hillside. Thor pulled his hat down, stuffing errant strands of sandy hair inside. He produced a pair of chunky sunglasses from the glovebox.

“Avengers…” he began with gravitas.

“Don’t.” Steve snapped.

As it transpired, the only hubbub in the beer-garden was an old man stubbing out a cigarette by the entrance. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Thor’s bobble hat poked over the hedge. You quickly made yourself scarce, walking inside the tavern and collecting as many glasses as you could covertly carry.

Sidling between tables of chattering locals, you squinted out a passing window. Thor was leaning awkwardly against a picnic bench. You saw a flash of movement in the bushes behind him as Steve and Loki emerged, shuffling forward in a squat position. Colin dragged between them. They hoisted him to sit at the table, flipping his legs over the bench. He slumped forwards. The last thing you saw was Thor attempting to prop a fist under his chin. He failed Sliding out the front door, you made your way quickly over to the scene and plopped seven glasses on the surface. “Let’s go,” you said. “Where is the ale?” Thor said, face falling. “We’re not staying, buffoon” Loki scathed as the four of you made your way quickly back to the car. “That defeats the entire purpose.” Thor pouted all the way home.

You had walked ahead from the driveway to the cottage door with your heart in your mouth. It had been a tense ride.

All you could hear behind you was Loki’s hushed overtones requesting privacy from the others.

Noting the tremble in your hands, you unlocked and walked inside. Keep it together, you chided as you slipped into the kitchen and sat at the table, fidgeting. The front door opened. It closed with a creak and a thunk. You tried to steady your breaths as Loki hung up his jacket before rounding the corner, smoothing his hair while he looked at the floor. Suddenly your fingernails became very interesting.

His towering figure occupied your periphery, hovering before he sat in the opposite chair. Looking up, your eyes met his. You offered a weak smile. Loki cleared his throat.

The chair leg squeaked. "I want to be myself. My core self. The one that swells in my roots, I suppose you would say." he said abruptly. The words were quick and cold. "That's what I was attempting to convey... back on the hill."

He seemed nervous. You didn't think you'd ever seen Loki nervous. It made you nervous. He cleared his throat again, features softening. “What I have come to realise” he continued carefully, brushing crumbs from the tablecloth, “is that being with you...I often felt like that boy at the cabin.” He looked at you, tilting his head. His mind was a million miles away, but somehow – it was the closest you had ever been to him. “Except I didn’t know what it was,” he continued wistfully.

“I felt safe. Free. It felt...strange. I fought against it, with my arrogance and my selfishness. Like a dog in a trap, I fought against it with the only tools I had.” You looked down at your hands again, heart sinking. “A trap?”

Loki sighed. “I cannot pertain to the logic. Only my feelings. It was self-preservation. Or so I thought.” “It sounds like self-sabotage to me,” you murmured gently, pressing your thumb into your palm. “Yes.” was all Loki said.

After a few moments he stood.

You braced as he took a step forwards, sinking slowly to sit on his haunches. Your gaze swung to his thighs, thick and straining against the creases of his trousers. “I can’t promise I’ll be perfect,” he murmured. There was a pause while the weight of his considerations hung in the air. “But for you, I would do anything in my power. You know that, don’t you?” Tears began to prick your eyes. You swallowed, words coming out as a tremble. “I never wanted you to be perfect, Loki. I only wanted to feel like we were equals.” Loki slipped his fingers into your open palm. “I know that feeling,” he crooned sadly, drawing your hand down. He stroked the skin, looking at it like it might evaporate in his hold.

A gentle press of his lips warmed your wrist. “Am I being presumptuous that you might consider a fresh start between us?” he said tentatively, raising his gaze to meet yours through a dark fan of lashes. “As your ‘girlfriend’?” you questioned. A smile twitched. Was this really happening? Your heart was thundering. “No, Madam” Loki scoffed playfully. “My consort of course.” Your smile grew wider. Loki pursed his lips, brows rising in expectation as he ran his nervous stare over your features. You bit your lip, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity. But there was none. And somehow, you knew there wouldn’t be.

The hand not being held by his slid up the curve of his jaw. You lowered, pausing by his parted lips. The god’s breath hitched.

“Loki,” you pleaded, no more than a whisper.

His name held weight when you said it like that.

In an instant, Loki closed the space between you, his mouth fastening to yours with a gasp.

Without breaking the kiss he rose, pulling you with him.

His hands cupped your face, fingertips pressing into your hair while his tongue cautiously caressed against your own. It was pure fire, twisting and scorching the path of troubles behind you.

Your knees caught against the chair as he tried to walk you backwards, making you both stumble.

He broke, panting. “Apologies,” he muttered, catching his breath as his large hand centred on your back.

You looped your arms around his neck, memorising the look of abject relief in his eyes. Kissing him softly, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth. Loki’s eyes narrowed, a subconscious thrust of his hips against your stomach making your vision blur. “We should probably let them in now,” you said ruefully, glancing sideways to the closed door. “I was hoping you couldn’t hear them,” Loki sighed. ‘Damn you and your heavy breathing, Rogers’ Thor chided behind the peeling wood. Loki reached for the handle, a quick turn and release causing Steve and his brother to sprawl forwards face-first to the linoleum.

Rogers sat up quickly, brushing himself down as his guilty eyes swung between you. “It was his idea,” he said as he nodded to Thor. “How very dare you,” Thor boomed. “The God of Thunder does not sneak.” “Ain’t that the truth,” Steve snapped.

The two of them stood, awkwardly picking at their clothes. Around the same time, their eyes fell on the space between you and Loki. Thor’s arm shot out, the back of his hand slapping against Steve’s chest.

Their gazes widened in sync. “Holding...hands?” Thor gasped. He and Steve gaped at one another. Suddenly the entire kitchen became a hive of screeches as the two men grasped on to the others biceps, jumping in a circle.

You started to laugh, hearing Loki’s embarrassed chuckle beside you. “Why are they so happy?” you murmured to him. Loki shook his head. “My brother had a cunning plan, you see” he said as he raised your interlinked fingers with a knowing smile. “Hold up,” Steve interjected. His serious face was back. “I gotta take some credit considering it was my idea, Odinson.”

Thor laughed mirthlessly, throwing his head back with a shake of his hair. “I think not, Rogers. If anything your contributions were the seasoning.” “Seasoning?”” Steve balked. “It was my idea to get them up here in the first place.” Thor released a grimacing smile. He patted Steve on the back. “Perhaps now is not the time,” he muttered as covertly as a fart in an elevator.

You yelped as Loki sat at the dining table, pulling you onto his lap. “No, I think now is most definitely the time” he purred as he linked his fingers around your stomach. You’d forgotten how solid his thighs were. Almost. Steve’s cheeks flushed. “Well, uh…you see, it started way back when uh-” “-Well,” Thor interrupted. “Apologies, Rogers – but the tale requires gravitas.” Steve rolled his eyes, as the god continued. “Around two months ago when your incessant moods had reached peak insufferability, I invoked Rogers aid in a minor detail of the piece-”

“-I bought this place,” Steve butted sharply. “Well, Stark did.” You and Loki looked at each other, frowning. “We figured you guys needed to get away somewhere neutral. Something official to force your hand. Back to basics, somewhere Laufeyson could be pushed out of his comfort zone with a range of activities he felt were-” “-Beneath you, brother” Thor quipped smugly. “And in tandem with my cunning plan, it was fool-proof.”

The two of them folded their arms, their facial expressions hinting that they had explained everything. “Yes? And?” Loki probed lazily. The breath from his words flooded your ear, lips ghosting the shell. You wondered if he was listening. He placed an absent-minded kiss at the tip of your cheekbone, nuzzling gently. “From there it was quite simple, really- for a fellow like myself” Thor postured, looping his thumbs through his belt.

Loki rolled his eyes as his brother’s smug voice boomed around the kitchen. “One of the many times you fell asleep on my sofa after a night of ale and moaning about blowing it with this one” Thor thumbed to you; “you were mumbling about the cabin.” “I was?” Loki asked. Thor nodded. “And it made me ponder what you were like back then. The same, but different. Not as much of a little shit. I thought it was time you needed a more targeted reminder – for all our sakes. In a place like this, a place like the cabin. Kind of.”

You felt Loki inhale sharply, priming a barb. But he let it go. You felt the tension melt against your back as his hands clasped tighter in your lap. “Oh brother, I thought you’d really arsed it up with that stunt on our second evening” Thor chuckled, nudging Steve in the ribs.

“But your denial was rather a boon, Agent. A catalyst which timed well with Rogers and myself's light exploration of his foils earlier that night. Commendations, sister, for resisting my brother’s seductions. His cock is a wily adversary, I am sure.” You smirked as Loki’s inaudible laughter pulsed against your back. You’d missed this. “Tell them about the fire,” Steve whispered shyly. Thor’s eyes lit up.

“Ah, well...Rogers here had the rather genius idea of luring you both to the fireside. Nothing fans the flames like...well, flames. My brother has always been a lush for elemental theatrics.” Steve beamed with pride while your eyebrows rose. “And destroying my room and all my stuff was…?” The question lingered as Thor shuffled awkwardly. “Collateral damage, sister. We needed you out of that bedroom. I may have slightly overdone it.” “We thought you were ready,” Steve added. “I signalled with the flashlight when I thought the ol’ heart-to-heart had done the business and then…”

He and Thor nodded sagely to each other. “So were the two of you like...monitoring us?” you asked, glancing at Loki who was blushing faintly. “Of course!” Thor boomed. “The two of you were the true field operation. Well, in a roundabout sort of way.” Loki burrowed his face in the curve of your neck, a smile spreading against the skin. “What about the two of you?” Loki purred, resting his chin on your shoulder. “All smoke and mirrors like the rest?” Thor flapped his hand in the air as Steve bristled. “You need not know the details, brother.” he blustered. “What matters in that you stayed in that room. With her.” Steve’s face was a deep shade of crimson. “It had to be realistic,” he muttered, scuffing his shoe on the floor. “We got ya!” he added weakly. “So is what he’s saying...true?” you asked Loki. “Did it work?” Loki chuckled, bouncing one leg as he considered his answer. You jiggled, gripping his bicep for balance. He shot the men standing shoulder-to-shoulder above him a sharp glare.

“From the wreckage of my brother’s tenuous plot I did scavenge a solitary golden thread of wisdom, yes.” Thor released one of his arms from the fold, pointing a fist to the captain. Steve shook it. “I owe you ten bucks, Odinson” he said ruefully. “You owe me more than that, Rogers.” Thor winked. Steve cast an anxious glance to you and Loki, acknowledging your bemused smiles with a curt nod. He cleared his throat. “Time for us to make tracks,” he said.

You frowned. “But Steve, we have like... two more days here.” Thor laughed, doubling over. Rogers shook his head. “You have two more days here. We are going to the spa.” “The spa?” Loki spat incredulously. “Without me?!”

Thor shrugged. “If you wish to join Rogers and I for an ‘erbal wrap and sauna privileges you are most welcome to brother.” He tracked his gaze to you, sitting on Loki’s lap. “But something tells me you’d rather stay here,” he added softly.

Loki’s face burrowed into your neck again, nose grazing your collarbone. “Quite,” he murmured. It was meant only for you. In the following twenty minutes the blondes made quick work of packing their belongings. You helped Thor locate his various nick-knacks, strewn clothes and hair mousses; passing each of them in turn as he leant his bodyweight on a second suitcase.

The captain’s bags were stacked neatly in the corner. He was frowning at the tower. “I feel like I’m forgetting something,” he murmured, stroking his chin.

“The crisper,” you said, trying not to laugh. Steve’s cheeks flushed as your eyes fell involuntarily to his butt. “Been enjoying the freedom, Cap?” you giggled, tossing another bottle to Thor.

When the last suitcase had been stuffed into the beleaguered Fiat, the blondes returned inside. You and Loki had stood at the doorway of the cottage, watching them. It was meditative. Winding curls of burnt orange ivy rustled in the air. There was no rush.

You turned your face, brushing your cheek against the wool of Loki’s jumper. He rested his chin on your head.

As they approached, you pulled away from the god and let your fingers trail longingly over his stomach as you sank back to the hallway. Loki winked, a small smile flirting at his lip. The warmth flooding your skin could be magic, you were sure. But something told you it wasn’t.

Thor tugged the sides of his jacket. “I take it this highly successful endeavour means that you will be of more pleasant humour to everyone then,” he chuckled.

“Regrettably, for the foreseeable future I shall be targeting my efforts of self-improvement to our darling Agent, here.” Loki purred, zipping his brother’s jacket up over his mouth. “I’m sure you understand it’s a process.” “Just consider me your spiritual Sherpa, brother-” Thor continued un-phased against the muffler. “And Rogers too, to a lesser extent.” “The day I consider that, is the day I may be claimed by the sanatorium, brother” Loki smiled dryly.

“So you’re still gonna be a boob to the rest of us? That wasn't part of the deal,” Steve whined, releasing a low whistle of discontent. Loki shrugged. “Apologies, gentleman.” he smarmed, resting a hand on each of their shoulders. He tipped forward earnestly. “Although when it comes to mocking you both; I will do my utmost not to pick up the gauntlets of temptation you throw so effortlessly down.” The three of them looked between each other.

“Excellent!” Steve chirped, shuffling sideways between you and Loki. You followed as he rounded the corner to the kitchen. Making immediately for the fridge, the captain un-balled a Tesco carrier bag from his pocket. Leaning against the door-frame, you watched as Captain America gingerly slid open the crisper. His lips pursed, pressing inward. It was all you could do not to fall to the floor. He reached in, carefully picking out each pair of underwear and slipping them into the plastic bag.

“I can see you,” he grit, throwing a knowing look over his shoulder. “And I would appreciate if the events of this trip stayed between the four of us.”

“Come, Rogers!” Thor boomed as he snuck up behind you, drawing you into a bear hug. You thrashed against his chest, before sinking with a relenting sigh into his hold. “Sister,” he whispered gruffly through a smile as Steve bustled past to the car. “I couldn’t be happier for you both.”

Loki gave a final wave as his brother and Rogers drove away down the rickety path. Thor’s hair whipped around his temples, the window fully rolled down and his head sticking out. Loki smiled, chortling softly as he closed the door.

In the kitchen, he could hear mugs clinking.

He straightened the front of his jumper, tucking his hair behind his ears. “Right…” he breathed quietly. Loki paced cautiously into the kitchen, memorising the way the low amber sunlight bathed your skin.

A goddess, he thought. “My goddess,” he said.

You turned, surprise peaking your brows before you smiled. “Hey,” you murmured shyly. It made his stomach flip. Wiping your hands on the dishcloth, you turned. Without stopping to think, Loki strode forward and kissed you.

He didn’t want to think anymore. Not today. His tongue slipped easily between your lips, the only sound the careful wax and wane of delicate skin and the melody of gentle moans. His fingers curled around the counter-lip, caging your body as your hands slid up his sweater, tugging. There was a quiet groan as you pulled away, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth.

“I’m going to take a shower,” you said. There was a look in your eye Loki thought he would never see again. His stomach did another turn. “Oh. Of course,” he muttered politely, standing back. Fingers slid down the chunky knit of his arm, grazing over his hand. They toyed with his own as you began to walk to the door, throwing a seductive glance back over your shoulder. “Come with me?” Loki’s breath hitched. “I’ll be right behind you,” he murmured. He was sure the tremor of his racing heart could be heard in his voice. “I’d prefer face-to-face,” you winked before disappearing into the hall. Loki’s mouth gaped. The god heard the creak of the bathroom door, the thick splash as water hit the tub from on high. It’s happening, he thought; amazed.

In this unfamiliar landscape stripped of all ornament. In the wreckage of his brother’s clumsy attempts at mischief, he had found what his heart had been search for; slipping against walls of his cluttered mind. A second chance. Loki did some quick calculations, finding his feet drawing him already up the stairs. He was certain that you weren’t on birth control, he remembered hushed whispers overheard between you and Wanda months prior. At the time, it had made him very happy indeed. He was even more certain he didn’t wish to enchant you – that was a conversation for a later time.

Nerves fizzed in his stomach as he pushed open the doorway to his brother and Rogers room. Where are they? Loki cursed every creaking footstep as he picked his way around the room, but what he sought was nowhere to be seen. Steve had stripped the bedsheets, leaving them folded in military position at the foot of the bed. The god peered beneath pillows, under the mattresses. He frowned. A minute later, he pushed the door of his own room ajar. And there, on the pillow, was a box.

A yellow post-it note was stuck jauntily to the centre. Loki whipped it up with a flourishing snap, holding it at arms length as he peered down. A gift, it read. Love you Little Brother, Thor :) xx x “I bought them,” Loki grumbled, picking up the box.

It was open.

He pulled out a set, splitting them in two as he released a quaking sigh. Tossing the chosen one on the bed, he slipped the extra back in its home. Nine remained.

We might need to go to that shop again, Loki mused as he picked up the solitary condom on the bed. He held it up to eye-level, thumb pressed against the foil centre as he steadied himself. “Loki?” you cooed from downstairs. Your voice was an angelic echo, misting through tile and steam. He shuddered, cock pulsing against his trousers. He made his way carefully down the steps, memorising the way the wooden banister glided and caught against his skin. If I could live in a memory, Loki pondered as his fingers pressed against the ajar bathroom door, it would be this one.

Rich golden sunlight flooded the room from the tiny window. The ageing white tiles and fittings were perfected in its amber glow, porcelain glinting with an asgardian sheen under nature’s filter. Behind the shower curtain, you were humming; a splatter of water from your wet hair hitting the base. Loki cleared his throat.

Your face appeared, clutching the thin shower curtain by your chest. You were smiling, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Is the beige a permanent feature of your wardrobe now? Because if it is then I may need to rethink this whole thing.”

Loki’s arms crossed immediately, tugging the cable-knit over his head. It caught beneath his ears, the tinkle of your laugh singing against falling water. After a few seconds, the jumper was discarded by his ankles.

The god’s fingers flew to his belt, making quick work of the fastenings and pushing them to his feet. He hopped out of them, standing with a sudden flourish; shoulders rolled back. You looked from the pile on the floor to his eyes, one brow raised. “The old-fashioned way huh? That’s a first.” Loki cocked his chin. He bit his lip, enjoying the track of your gaze rolling hungrily down his naked body. One finger appeared from behind the shower-curtain, beckoning. With a heavy exhale, he stepped over the bath wall.

His cock slapped against his stomach, smacking the taut skin. You stood beneath the shower head, low pressure making it pour thickly to your skull before splitting to rivers down your back and chest. Loki swallowed. Water dripped in languid streams down your arms, trickling lazily through the part of your breasts. A droplet clung to your nipple, dangling as he would his tongue on the curve.

There was a quiet rip as he peeled the top of the foil square he held. Your eyes fell to the work of his hands, smiling as you savoured the journey back to meet his smoulder.

Loki gripped his cock, one slow slick of his fist all that was needed before he rolled the condom from the tip. He moaned, eyes fluttering closed as his grip tightened at the base.

Like a dream Loki found himself looming above you, the flat of his stomach pressed against the slick of your own. In seconds, his wetted body plastered to yours; his mouth swallowing against your open lips, his hands sinking into the glossed plump of your skin. Sighs mingled with steam as he moved you with ease against the tiles, the keening thrusts of your hips matching his own eagerness. Loki groaned as your digits curled around his throbbing cock. You released a dirty moan into his mouth as one finger slid between your folds. A growl bubbled in his throat at the feeling of your silken arousal hot against his fingers. Loki felt everything. The clench of your thighs around his wrist, the tug of his foreskin against your mound through latex, the depth of the longing in your kiss. Everything.

She is everything.

“-Wait,” he choked as he pulled away from the kiss.

Water hit the nape of his neck as he watched fear blossom in your eyes. Sodden tendrils of his hair curled against your collarbone. “Are you sure?” he swallowed. “About me-,” he finished, choking on the words. Your face softened. “It never ended for me, Loki” you whispered, barely audible against the water’s slap. He melted into the fingers sliding up the base of his skull. “It was always you,” he heard you say before pulling his mouth to yours. “It was always you,” he echoed between desperate kisses. Loki sank into old habits he could live with. With one hand steadying your waist, he drew your thigh to sit on his hip. A tremble ran up his spine as you manoeuvred his cock against your heat, the skim of your breath caressing his cheek.

And with a gasp, he pushed inside.

Loki’s hips nudged upwards, savouring the drag of your delicate walls wrapped around his length. It was more than he remembered. Or maybe that was new. But every clench of your sweetness around him, every slow tighten of his ass which rocked him deeper. Every moment burned with glittering with clarity, auburn leaves falling in slow motion. Your arms rested on his shoulders. Wet skin slurped as air pockets burst and kissed together. Water ran down, pooling against hands and lips and foreheads as it looked for any way between your bodies.

His name wisped in the steamed air; chanted from breathy moans and pitched sobs of pleasure. Loki could not recall when he had been happier. Perhaps, he thought, I never have.

But the only utterance he had strength for were broken syllables of your name.

Slowly he took you. Moulded to you. Melted into you. So slowly.

Your hands tangled in his soaking hair as Loki hoisted you higher. His hands slid beneath your ass, taking all the work as you slid back and forth along his length. He would never take the supple give of your skin as his tips sank deeper for granted again.

“Darling,” he sighed wantonly. It was punctuated with a slow roll of his hips.

Your eyes flew open, rolling back as your head tapped back against the tile. He kissed down the exposed length of your neck, slurping against rivulets that paved his path.

Waves of desire undulated in his belly, burning blood-red coals that radiated jolts of pleasure from the root of his cock. It pulsed with each measured clench of his ass.

They timed him perfectly, the stammering, gasping prayers of delight heralding your climax growing louder. Loki buried his face in your neck, softly biting up your throat.

“Darling,” he moaned repeatedly as his own orgasm reared. As if the loving word would disappear down the drain between his searching fingers. The invisible string that tied his heart to yours. It always had. You came with an anguished sob, fingernails digging into the meat of his shoulder-blades. One of Loki’s hands flew to the side, grasping slippery palms against tile before grabbing the curtain.

With the lightest of his tugs, the shower rail cracked. The palm flew above your head, smacking and squeaking down the grubby tiles as Loki felt his who body clench, trembling muscles tightening.

His foot slipped against the tub, the correction thrusting his manhood one final squeeze as he came with a crushing cry of your name. He juddered, the force of his cum filling the condom wrapped snug around his pulsing cock.

Your back began to slip down the wall, legs loosening their grip around his waist; spent. But Loki held you close. There was a dreamy smile on your face as your lashes fluttered, refocusing on him.

“I missed you,” you slurred while your fingers knotted through his hair. Water hit Loki’s back as he pushed you further against the wall with a rapturous kiss, wandering hands massaging the spill of your breasts. “I missed me too,” he breathed bitterly against your cheek. A finger trailed along his jaw, tipping Loki’s chin to face you.

“But I missed you more,” he whispered. And what’s more, Loki found, it was true.

The sun set, and then rose. Hours upon hours had passed, low afternoon sun spilling through the open curtains of Loki’s room. It was too cold to be anywhere else. But not in here.

You had lain tangled in each others arms, fingers grazing on skin between giggles and dozing and long conversations. And sex. Lots of sex.

His inhumanly long legs sprawled open. One lay bent, hanging triangularly over the side of the bed. You lay on your stomach, one hand propped beneath your chin while the other trailed lazily up and down your lover’s torso. His pale skin looked tan in golden sunlight. Loki watched you.

His eyes followed the path of your fingertips, pads dipping into every dent of muscle in their way which tightened and relaxed with each breath. Circling, dancing.

Loki shivered. A jolt of one knee rusted the bedsheet draped across his middle. You smiled, lowering to place a winding path of kisses as you edged the sheet lower. “We really should eat,” Loki murmured, stroking your hair as your lips kissed down his cock. You lingered on a taut vein, teasing your tongue along the pulse. What he meant is that you really should eat, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless. It was the little things. Loki’s sharp inhale as you swallowed the tip made your stomach flip with pride.

His chin was pointed to the ceiling, muscles in his neck straining. Onyx hair flooded the pillow, his gentle cup of the back of your head vibrating with restraint. There was a rustle as the fingers of his free hand gathered the bedsheets in a fist, clenching and unclenching as you began to suck. “After…” he groaned with an attempt at authority.

With his cock stuffed in your mouth, you sidled over his leg, pushing his knees wider as you settled in. Your arms slid under his thighs, wrapping around him.

“After,” he gasped, before Loki Laufeyson turned to writhing slut-drunk pleasure beneath your touch.

On further investigation, it seemed you and Loki were shit outta luck.

The cupboards were bare, and it transpired that the Thor-decimated snacks you had grabbed last night between rabid lovemaking was the last of it. Loki spun, gripping the lip of the counter top. His neck was marred with purple bruises from your enthusiastic affections. They wouldn't last, but they looked so pretty while they did. “Let’s go for dinner somewhere,” he purred. You couldn’t help your snort of laugher. “What?” Loki coyed, pushing himself from the ledge. His hands slipped around your waist, grabbing your ass through the sweatshirt hanging down.

“It’s just...risky” you said, tilting your head. The two of you looked at each other.

You’d meant exposure. But sudden memories of every time you and Loki had gone out to eat flashed through your mind.

Selfies, a baying crowd desperate to touch him, autographs- on paper and skin. His endless adoration, drinking in the attention which fed his superiority complex like an assembly line while you faded from his mind. The Real World reared with the force of a slap.

“It won’t be like that again,” he murmured knowingly, tilting your chin up to face him. He gazed down through half-lidded eyes, frowning with sincerity. But he didn’t believe it. Not fully. And with trepidation, you realised, neither did you.

“Afternoon,” the waitress chirped as she handed you and Loki a menu. You thanked her nervously and pulled your cap down.

All around you was the polite buzz of conversation, local radio playing from a speaker behind the bar. Glass windows looked out onto the lake, endless sprawling water lapping at the shore beneath the window. The sun was beginning to set. Loki glanced upwards with a brief, dazzling smile. The woman’s eyes lingered on him as he ran a finger down the menu. They roamed up his arms, the chunk of cable-knit doing nothing to disguise the muscle beneath. On her gaze went, up the exposed curve of his lovebitten neck to the messy bun of dark hair knotted at base of his cap. Her stare widened.

Shit. You could tell the exact moment she clocked the infamous carve of his cheekbones as he sucked them in thoughtfully.

With a gasp, the waitress rocked back on her heels. “I hope you don’t mind me asking,” she whispered nervously, glancing between the two of you and then over her shoulder. “But are you…” she leant closer, using a menu to shield her face from view. “Loki...from the Avengers?” Loki’s eyes met yours.

The air tingled with her excitement, vibrating unspoken words and exclamations. Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment, or sudden lust. Or both. Maybe she writes fanfiction about him, you thought.

And as you looked at him, the realisation of this moment’s importance seemed to blossom in Loki’s eyes. An ache grew in your stomach.

Please, you screamed silently. Begging him. A vein in his temple twitched as he nervously adjusted his feet beneath the table. Despite her attempt at covertness, people were staring. A weak smile fluttered at your lips as the seemingly inevitable turn of events teetered on the precipice. First the pomp, then the ceremony of his public adoration.

It would break the dam. This week was different. But it wasn’t real life. You would sidle off to the shadows, wait and wilt as each and every person took their piece of him that he willingly gave.

As it always was, so it shall be.

Unless- Loki cleared his throat.

“Howay, man!” he balked in a bamboozingly accurate Georgie accent, incredulity feigned to perfection. “But I get it wi' that gadgie aw' the time.” The waitress laughed, fanning herself with a menu. “Oh,” she gasped through an awkward smile. “Well, -” she looked at you with a wink. “You’re a lucky one, miss.” Her footsteps retreated as you stared at the list of dinner options, not seeing a single one. Stunned, you felt Loki’s fingers curl around your hand. It was moist with anxious sweat against the menu.

He dipped his chin down, catching your eyes under the rim of your cap. His were wide and beautiful, the deepest, clearest blue you had ever seen. You felt breaths begin to quicken in your chest, tears of happiness threatening to spill over as his grip tightened. “No,” Loki murmured quietly across the table, the velvet tones of his own voice back in fully laden force. “I’m the lucky one.” Your breath hitched as he brought your knuckles to his lips. He lowered his gaze, pausing before raising it to slowly meet your own.

Sunset warmth cast golden hues against his skin, green speckles in his irises bursting in glittering sparks. He let your curled fingers rest against his mouth.

“I always was,” he whispered lovingly against the skin. And you believed him.

A/N: This series has given me SO much joy and I just want to say thank you to the people who've commented and reblogged your hearts out and just all-in-all love these fools as much as I do. I honestly truly wasn't expecting it. This won't be the last we see of this AU, I have something planned. But for now, I hope the story warmed you like some pumpkin-spice cocoa.

Tags @lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog @megschaef98

#the lakes #loki x reader #loki smut #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x you #loki x you smut #loki fluff #loki x female reader #loki imagine #loki series #loki marvel #loki odinson #theve #loki laufeyson smut

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perpetuallyobsessed0613 · 10 months

Text

Fontaine Characters Headcanons/Theories

Some of this info is known cause the siblings info got released but still:

Focalors

Hedonist

Really only in it for entertainment (she’s just….kinda a loser 💀💀💀😭😭😭)

Hot-headed, a little childish, gives Neuvillette a hard time (yeeeah)

Would give up her Gnosis in a heartbeat if it was needed to place a bet

But would fight tooth and nail to get it back if she lost the bet

Hydro Archon (confirmed)

Hydro (confirmed, duh) /Sword (confirmed based on her Statue of the Seven)

Arlecchino

Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers

The Knave

Used to be an actress

Method actress, used methods so outlandish she was kicked from theater

From Fontaine originally (HAH I WAS RIGHT)

Used to be an orphan

Runs an orphanage called House of the Hearth, uses it to recruit Fatui agents (!!!!!)

Those aren't gloves on her hands, she bears a curse or she's been turned into a non human entity

Pyro vision/Sword (leaks confirm she’s a Polearm!)

Cryo Delusion

Neuvillette

Stone cold serious type (he’s literally the sweetest I love him????)

Huge proponent of justice (yup!)

Chief Justice of Fontaine

Puts up with Focalors’s attitude (Pretty much 😭)

Loyal to Archon (or is he)

Descended from mermaids (YALL YALL APPARENTLY HE'S THE HYDRO DRAGON SOVEREIGN???????!!!! WTF OMG)

Waiting for Wriothesley to slip up so he can put him in the slammer once and for all (political rival mayhaps idk)

His name deconstructed means "new city": mayhaps he's awaiting a moment to dethrone the archon and reconstruct Fontaine?

Hydro/Sword (apparently he's a Catalyst user,,,,missed the opportunity to give him a fencing sword as a weapon but whatever ig)

Clordine

Assistant to Neuvillette

Bodyguard (yeeeah)

Prosecutor of Fontiane

Detail oriented, nothing gets past her

Vicious and Merciless (literally kinda the opposite but kinda not)

Eventually goes up against Arlecchino

Navia is her arch nemesis, seems as though Goldilocks is the only one having fun with their game of cat & mouse (the way I was off)

Electro (confirmed) /new weapon: Gun (Sword!)

Lyney

Super protective of Lynette (rightfully so holy shit)

Loves the chase

Cunning (eeeeh)

Very street smart (I mean kinda yeah)

You can’t tell whether he’s putting up a front, actually enjoys his web of lies, or a little bit of both

This man's gonna get used while thinking he's using the person that's using him at some point (oh Arlecchino I swear to god you better not)

Pyro (confirmed)/Bow (confirmed)

Lynette

Something has happened to her in the past (…..well that was dark)

She’s not temperamental at all (yup)

She doesn’t smile too easily (mhm)

Strongest bond with Lyney (they twins lesgo)

Perceptive and agile (very!)

Lynette escapes her brother’s net of safety to save the traveler at some point (not so likely)

Anemo (confirmed) /Sword (confirmed)

Freminet

Youngest sibling (yup)

introverted/enjoys personal space and quiet (lmfao I knew it)

Love for the water

Renowned Diver of the Court of Fontaine (confirmed)

Silent protector of both his older siblings (idrk)

Highkey that smartest book-wise out of the siblings (again idk)

Cryo (confirmed) /Claymore (confirmed)

Sigewinne

Healer

Alchemist

Provides treatment for Wriothesley’s visual impairment

If not treatment, then she prefers sweet tasting drinks and Wriothesley prefers bitter but she still tries to get him on her new concoctions

Sibling dynamic/found family w/ Wriothesley

Hydro/Catalyst

Wriothesley

May or may not be somewhat visually impaired

If so, not particularly compliant with treatment

If not treatment, then he prefers bitter tasting drinks and sometimes humors Sigewinne by trying her new concoctions, mostly just pretends he’s converted to sweet and then goes for coffee or tea anyways

Likes to tease Sigewinne

Sibling dynamic/found family w/ Sigewinne

Investigator for Fontaine justice system (woeful news, he's a police officer. like not even a detective dude?)

Seems pretty chilled out, strategic, could be leading the organized crime w/Navia in secret

if he is secretly running robinhood-esque crimes with navia, then...Neuvillette sniffs something suspicious but never has the evidence to back it oop

Pyro/Claymore (He’s a Cryo Catalyst but his fists go boom boom like Heizou)

Navia

Gives off Focalors vibes (was very wrong)

Playful (yeah I mean yeah)

Career Thief OR

Notorious organized criminal in Fontaine (literally what was I on)

Robin Hood of the sewers (I mean I was kinda sorta a tiny bit right)

Crafty, craftsman (ummm I guess her mind is?)

Super sweet, wonderful character (loved her so yes)

Loves messing with Clordine by making her think she's got her but escaping right in the nick of time (….needless to say I was way off)

Geo (confirmed)/Catalyst (claymore actually)

#fontaine #final feast #overture teaser #genshin #genshin impact #navia #Wriothesley #Sigewinne #Freminet #Lynette #Lyney #Clordine #Neuvillette #Focalors #arlecchino #hc #headcanon #if we really think about it #navia is sampo and clordine is gepard

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jjngkook7 · 9 months

Text

Choices (5)

Werewolf Au! Jungkook x Reader / Enemies to Lovers [Angst and mature content. Not smut but almost smut.]

Summary: Jungkook finally found her. His mate. His lifelong partner. But she’s a human. Does he have to stay with her or can he stick it to whatever and whoever binds mates together and make his own decision?

Hi!!!! Thank you for being patient with this. I've changed the protagonist from 'she' to 'you' to be inclusive to all my gals, pals, and non-binary pals.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

“Is this really necessary?” Jungkook scoffed.

“You almost killed Jimin so yes, more than necessary.” Namjoon answered, his voice monotone.

“He’s fine.” Jungkook argued, not being able to hide the smirk on his face.

Jungkook rolled his eyes as Namjoon ignored his remark. He watched his members test the lock on the outside of his cabin.

“You know that I can rip this whole thing apart right?” Jungkook sneered.

Jimin, who eagerly participated in locking Jungkook up, quickly had Jungkook against the wall with his throat in his hands, mimicking the younger one from earlier. The giant grin on Jungkook’s face only fueled Jimin’s anger.

“I will literally rip all your limbs off if you don’t shut up.” Jimin growled.

“You won’t.” Jungkook taunted.

Namjoon came over and parted them, glaring at both of them in the process. This was the first time Jungkook has ever experienced heat with his mate and of course he had to make it as painful as possible.

“It’s all good, Namjoon!” Hoseok hollered from outside of the door.

Jimin gave Jungkook one last shove before walking out of his cabin. Knowing that there was no arguing with Namjoon, Jungkook sucked his teeth and flopped onto the air mattress provided by Jin.

“Can I at least talk to her?” Jungkook asked, his arm resting over his eyes.

Jungkook grew more irritated by Namjoon laughing in response. It was a dramatic and drawn out laugh, emphasizing how ridiculous Jungkook’s request was.

“I’m serious.” Jungkook grumbled, sitting up.

Namjoon cocked an eyebrow, “And why should I let you?”

Jungkook leaned against the palms of his hands and sighed dramatically, “I should be the one to explain all this to her, afterall, she’s my mate right?”

Namjoon clenched his jaw as the younger one grinned at him. He wanted to smack that shit eating smirk right off of Jungkook’s face. Wolves in heat were always difficult to handle but Jungkook was a whole other breed.

“I’ll let you have a minute with her but I will be standing right outside that door. If you lay a hand on her, I will kill you.” Namjoon warned.

Jungkook boldly stared at his leader, not breaking any eye contact.

“That’s my line, Joon.”

Any other day, Namjoon would’ve put Jungkook in his place and remind him what his role is in the pack but today-this week-is not like any other day. He would have to walk on eggshells around Jungkook to make sure he doesn’t end up hurting himself or someone else. Despite Jungkook being the youngest one in the pack, he was a lot stronger and more cunning than the others.

“I’ll let you talk to her but I won’t let you know when. Use this time to learn how to stop being an ass.” Namjoon said before walking out, slamming the door in the process.

He heard a low grumble come out of Jungkook before a loud crash followed. Namjoon assumed Jungkook probably punched a wall or door but as long as the cabin was still intact, he really didn’t care. His gaze went over to his pack discussing what happened. Jimin was re-enacting the fight that broke out between him and Jungkook while the rest watched in amusement. Namjoon thought of you, and how confused and scared you must be. He wanted to drag this moment out as much as he could because the thought of asking you to come see Jungkook after what transpired weighed heavily on his shoulders. Another crash from the cabin had Namjoon scowling and he decided to hold off on telling you for a few days just to make Jungkook suffer a little bit.

___________________________________________

A few days turned into never. Namjoon didn’t forget to tell you, he just didn’t want to. It wasn’t that he didn’t try, he just physically couldn’t bring himself to explain what was going on with Jungkook to you. How do you explain to a human that their mate (which already is a wild concept) is going through heat and has an intense urge to, well, mate. Namjoon didn’t need to instruct the members to not say a thing to you either because it seemed like everyone was tiptoeing around you. Anytime you even mention Jungkook, they would change the subject or tell you that he's okay. Jungkook’s missing presence was not what bothered you but the feeling that everyone was keeping a secret from you that you deserved to know did.

“We’ll only be gone for a little bit.” Jennie pouted as she gave you a hug.

Half of the pack was out hunting and the other half had to prepare for some wolf festival that you overheard them talking about. The feeling of being an unwanted guest was stronger than ever since you got here. At least Jungkook was vocal about how much he didn’t like you but the rest of his pack would smile at you yet keep you at arm’s length about their day to day.

“Have fun.” you said, trying your best to force a genuine smile.

You watched as Taehyung kept Jennie steady while she was putting on her snow boots. He was always so gentle with her. Whenever he held her or touched her, it was as if only his fingertips grazed her skin in fear of him accidentally scratching her. You often wondered if Taehyung was so delicate with Jennie because she was a human or because he truly didn’t want to accidentally inflict any pain onto her. Even if it were the latter, Taehyung looked at Jennie with such adoring eyes that it was hard not to feel moved by just how much he loved her.

“Since it’s daytime and the moon is past its first quarter, you should go wander around.” Taehyung said.

Jennie cocked her head and raised her eyebrows, “Are you sure?”

A feeling of excitement started bubbling inside your stomach. You had been wanting to leave the cabin for some fresh air but you were advised not to. Something about the moon phase and rogue wolves that you still didn’t understand.

“Yeah!” Taehyung grinned, “There's a really great view point near our cabin. Just follow the path behind the cabin and you’ll eventually see a large rock with giant claw marks.”

“Giant claw marks?” you swallowed, the excitement now fizzling away.

“It was left behind centuries ago by our ancestors,” Taehyung chuckled, waving a hand in front of you, “anyways, the view point is a little bit behind the giant rock. You won’t miss it.”

The immense joy you felt finally being able to leave the cabin made you miss the look that Jennie gave Taehyung. Taehyung ignored Jennie’s gaze and squeezed her hand. The three of you exchanged a couple more words before they left.

“If anything happens to her, I’m going to kill you, Kim Taehyung.” Jennie sighed as she wrapped her arms tighter around Taehyung’s.

Taehyung didn’t answer. His playful demeanour with you earlier now replaced with something more serious. Taehyung was placing all bets-his life if Namjoon found out-that you would be okay. The path he told you to follow will ensure your safety…if you stay on the path. If something happens to her, Jungkook will be there.

Despite the freezing winter air, the sunlight still felt so good on your face. It just felt so good to finally step outside after being cooped up for what felt like forever. You only had a few hours before the sun would set which meant you had to be quick. With the snow covering the ground, you followed footprints left by the pack members. How they were able to walk through the snow with no shoes still amazed you.

As you walked, you listened to the sound of the snow crunching under your shoes and the chirping of birds nearby. Perhaps it was the crisp forest air but you felt like you were finally able to breathe. All the tension in your body slowly began to dissipate and for once, it felt good to be alone. Back in the cabin, you spent a lot of time in your bedroom just staring outside the window watching the pack hangout. You wanted to be apart of their group but you just didn't understand what was going on and no one wanted to explain anything to you. Oftentimes you ate silently at the dining table with them because they would talk about things you had no idea about. During those times you would stare at Jennie and wished to swap places with her even if it were just for a minute. They were all kind to you and tried to engage with you but with all the secrets they were keeping from you, it was hard to feel like you were part of the group. Besides, you meeting them was all because of some freak accident so you couldn’t blame them for your feeling of loneliness. As your thoughts eventually led to Jungkook, your pace began to slow down. Moments between you two and stolen glances from your window began to flash through your mind. You felt your hands tingle with the same electricity that ran through your body that one and only night he embraced you.

“Ow!” you hissed as you felt a sting on your hand.

In the midst of your thoughts, you had sliced your hand against some tree branches. It wasn’t a bad scratch but it was enough to draw blood. You wiped the cut against your jacket and carried on with your walk. Ever since meeting Jungkook, your reality had completely shifted and now even simply thinking of Jungkook felt like it wasn’t allowed.

The sky had turned pink and orange as you reached the giant rock that Taehyung told you about. By the time you had reached the stone, you were out of breath. You were sure that this trail was a walk in the park during spring and summer but with the snow practically being untouched this far out, taking just a step through snow that came up to your knees took almost all of your energy. You leaned against the rock as you tried to catch your breath. You tilted your head up towards the sky and sighed. By the time you make your way back to the cabin, it will be dark. You maneuvered around the rock and saw that the viewpoint Taehyung was talking about was not far away at all. If you were quick, you could take in the sight and then start heading back.

____________________________________

Jungkook didn’t know how long it had been but judging by how the snow had melted around him, he had been laying down for a while. The snow helped cool him down but only for a few minutes before his whole body felt like it was on fire again. He was in the middle of his heat and everyday, he felt more and more like shit. Jungkook had gone through heat before many times but it had never been this bad. Now that Jungkook knew of your existence, it was as if his body would not rest until he was buried inside of you.

The first night was the hardest. Jungkook had very easily broken the chains and door of the cabin Namjoon wanted to seal him away in; everything after was a blur. He remembered standing by the door for hours trying to get a grip on reality. The primal need to go to where you were and make you his made him feel like he was going insane. Standing made him dizzy, laying down made him nauseous, and thinking made him hallucinate. The hardest part was fighting against his urges and instincts to go find you. What helped was remembering how terrified you were when his heat first struck. That image of your wide petrified eyes kept him away from you for now.

A groan left Jungkook’s mouth as he rolled over face first into a new pile of snow and the ice began to immediately melt around the heat of his body. This time, the ice melted so quickly his face met the soil hiding underneath all the snow.

“Fuck me…” he sighed and rolled onto his back, not caring that he was laying on frozen earth instead of the snow he so desperately needed against his burning skin.

Jungkook stared at the shades of red in the sky. It was now day three of his heat and the intensity from the first day was starting to wear off. The oversensitivity to light and sound began to ease but his body still ached and felt like it had been hit by a truck. Up until now, he wasn’t able to think of you unless it was in explicit context. He thought of all the positions he wanted you in and all the ways you would sound as he emptied the heat from his body inside of you. Now that his head was a little bit more clear, he resumed hating the thought of you and how angry he was with his fate. However, in the privacy of the night, he let himself think of you as much as he wanted in any way that he wanted.

A cold air blew past bringing along dozens of different scents. Jungkook picked up the smell of pine needles, soil, squirrel fur and-

“What the fuck?” Jungkook sat up and stared at the trees in front of him.

The fresh smell of your blood filled his senses and his heart began to race out of fear, excitement and desire. In an instant, Jungkook was running through the trees following your scent. He didn’t stop to think about the fact that just smelling you made him lose all control of his body. What was he going to do when he was face to face with you? As he neared you, the scent of rogue wolves broke the spell of his desire and lust. What was once excitement was now replaced with panic and possessiveness. Rogue wolves or even a comrade, if anyone laid a finger on what was his, he would have to kill them.

Something was not right as you stood in front of a broken cabin. There were deep scratch marks decorating the front and sides. The cabin door laid lifeless against the cracked floor inside and chains that were once intact were thrown out into the snow. The sky had changed into a bright red and the air felt colder. The snow swallowed all sounds and all you could hear was the drumming of your heart.

Why would Taehyung tell me to come here?

You could see the viewpoint that Taehyung was talking about right behind the cabin but it just wasn’t worth it anymore. You realized that whatever did this to the cabin or whatever the cabin was trying to keep inside may come back and you didn’t want to wait around for it. As you zipped up your jacket to tackle the night air approaching, the sound of growling made you freeze. Your eyes quickly scanned the trees nearby but all you could see was snow. As the growling got louder and closer, you heard a separate growl indicating that there was more than one of whatever was nearby. As you took a step backwards in preparation to run, a yelp escaped from your lips as you bumped into Jungkook’s body.

“Get in the cabin.” he ordered, his eyes bright red like the sky.

Before you could process the sight of him, another growl from the trees stole your attention.

“Now!” he ordered once more, this time you could see his fangs that had unsheathed.

Watching you struggle through the snow to the cabin only added to Jungkook’s growing anger. Him and his pack were able to run through any terrain without breaking a sweat while humans needed to wear specially designed shoes to avoid slipping at an indoor pool. Once you had stumbled your way into the cabin, Jungkook refocused his attention to the two rogue wolves behind the safety of the forest. He saw them clearly despite them being meters away.

“Do not come out no matter what you hear.” Jungkook instructed, his eyes not leaving the wolves.

Before you could say anything back, he disappeared within an instant. For a couple minutes, you stood alone in the broken down cabin that you were so afraid of earlier. You were too scared to even breathe, afraid that something would hear you and attack. You stood in place and kept your eyes on the broken door laying by your feet. The irony of how absolutely ridiculous the situation was made you want to cry. Jungkook told you to go into this cabin but there was no door to lock out any danger leaving you wide open for anything to come get you. You dug your nails into your hands as you heard yelping and howling in the distance. Tears pricked your eyes as your mind raced. Was Jungkook hurt? Was it his bones that you heard breaking just now? Were you going to die in this shitty cabin? You fell to your knees and covered your head with your arms trying to block out as much as you could. Why the fuck did Taehyung tell you to come here?

A low growl rumbled through Jungkook’s chest as he lifted his foot out of the rogue wolf's now dead carcass, its companion also laid lifeless beside it. He didn’t have to kill these two wolves as gruesomely as he did but the thought of their intentions with you made him feral. Jungkook was almost amazed with the work that he did. He’d never felt so much adrenaline or strength course through his body like this. If this was how strong his heat was making him, he could only imagine how much stronger he’d be if he marked you. Still drunk off of the intensity of what happened, Jungkook stumbled his way back to you. He almost laughed when he saw you flinch from the sound of his arrival. Seeing you all balled up and shaking like a leaf didn’t move him, if anything, he found the sight amusing. "Humans are so vulnerable and so small." he thought.

You still wouldn’t lift up your head, afraid of what you might see. If something like a rogue wolf was here to kill you, there truly wasn’t anything you could do. Jungkook crouched in front of you and stared at your trembling frame. The little bit of humanity left in him felt disgusting for relishing in the scent of your fear.

“Hey.” he called out.

Your head shot up from your arms and you gasped when you saw him. Jungkook was alive. Unable to fight the pure relief over his safety and yours, you threw your arms around him and buried your face in his chest. You didn’t care about the fact that he was shirtless or about the fresh blood on his body, you were just so grateful for him at the moment. Jungkook’s eyes shot wide open and almost immediately started salivating. The adrenaline that was still in his body mixed with the heat from your body was a concoction for disaster in the state that Jungkook was in. He thought he was going to go into a frenzy if you held onto him any longer.

“You need…You need to let go of me…” Jungkook managed to strain out.

“W-what?” you asked.

As you parted from him, you took notice of his hands by his side that were trembling. This was also when you noticed that he had claws that looked sharp enough to pierce through flesh.

“Jungkook?” you breathed as you fully backed away from him.

Jungkook was slouched over, his head tucked into his chest as his breathing labored. Jungkook dug his nails into the floorboard and the screeching from his action rang through his head. The veins from his arms were protruding so much, he was sure they were going to explode. His head felt so loud and his senses were overloaded. Unlike the last time you guys touched, his body felt like it was covered in pins and needles. He heard you call his name again and saw your hand coming towards him from the corner of his eyes.

“Don’t touch me!” he barked.

He couldn’t even breathe a sigh of relief when your hand retreated. If you had touched him at that very moment, he might’ve killed you. You watched as Jungkook fought against his body. He looked like he was in so much pain and agony. As scared as you were beside him, leaving him and running back in the dark was scarier. There was no way you could survive without him escorting you back. You tried to even out your breathing as you straightened your back. Something was going on within Jungkook’s body and you had no chance of leaving this place unless Jungkook snapped back to his regular self.

“What do you need me to do?” you asked.

Jungkook wanted to laugh because what he needed to do was fuck you senseless until his heat was over but that was out of the question. You needed to leave and get as far away from him as possible but the thought of you going back home to his pack members made him spiral and that was it, Jungkook was spiralling. Being next to him puts you in danger but being away from him now that he’s already seen you puts everyone around you in danger.

“Just wait. Please just wait.” Jungkook finally said.

You nodded and brought your knees up to your chest. Jungkook saved your life tonight and if waiting was all you had to do to save his (and yours), you’d do just that.

#bts fanfic #jungkook werewolf #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts werewolf au #bts smut #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook #yoongi #jimin #namjoon #taehyung #hoseok #jin #bts x reader #jungkook werewolf au #choices

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badchoicesworld · 9 months

Note

Heyyyy I really love ur writing! And also kind of ur vibe as a person 😳 but anyway!

Since you said we can be specific, I wanted to ask about Hobie getting a just a little bit flustered when receiving genuine heartfelt compliments and affection through words bc it catches him off guard. He'd also find the reader a bit naive at first only to find out that they're actually incredibly cunning and calculated. They just come across as naive bc they're so ridiculously sweet once they trust someone :3 (and it always looks like they trust quickly bc they have insane psychoanalytic abilities but now I'm rambling;;; (⁠´⁠⊙⁠ω⁠⊙⁠`⁠)! )

Hope this isn't too much ^^"

hobie realises you’re not as naive as he thought

hobie brown x gn!reader

omggg 😳 tyy anonnnn you got me blushing n shit 🤭 but no fr, ty that’s so sweet lmao <33 and no, this was perfect, ily

warnings: none

pairing: hobie brown x gn!reader

requests: masterlist plz

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

on first inspection, to hobie, you appear to be this person that trusts way too easily and immediately treats people way too kind for a person you just met- you seem clueless and completely naive when it comes to putting your trust in others since you’re so quick to do it

hobie doesn’t think it’s a bad trait at all to be inherently kind, but when you’re kind to literally everyone you immediately deem trustworthy, it’s like you’re looking to get hurt

he might occasionally have one of his rants to you about the ins and outs of the “real world”, propaganda that surrounds you, distracting you from the truth, the sharks at the top of it all, the people that would take advantage of you

there’s no ill intent, he just really thinks you’re gonna get hurt like that

and who wants that ?

so yeah, anyway, when he first meets you, he can basically see the switch once you’ve realised he’s trust worthy

you’re the sweetest person ever without prompt, and it admittedly looks like nativity to him at first

but because you now trust him, it means you’ll be a sweetheart to him

at first, it’s small compliments that he can appreciate- maybe something about his style or rebellious attitude that he’s heard all before

but you suddenly amp it up for no reason one day and it just completely turns the tides

if you’re aware of his secret identity, you change his perception of you completely when you basically soul read him

you manage to craft the most heartfelt, genuine, sincere acknowledgement of the sacrifices he’s made, along with genuine thanks and somehow stating the closest interpretation of his emotions that he’s ever heard before. from someone that isn’t him, anyway

hell, you’ve maybe even just helped him realise a few things about himself

he’s fucking gobsmacked

he stares at you as if you’ve just said the most outrageous but enlightening thing ever to be uttered

slack jawed, eyes wide, completely silenced for a solid while

he’s eventually able to process wtf you just said to him, and now he’s just trying to play it off with a really goofy grin that doesn’t hide he’s flustered

hobie’s doing all sorts with his hands to try distract the both of you- gestures while he tried to defend the little of his pride he has left, holding the back of his neck, maybe nudging you or shaking your whole frame

he gets the faintest idea that you might be just a little less naive than he though, but not entirely

that might have just been a lucky guess, after all

you’re definitely smarter in his eyes, though

depending on your status, if you’re a spider-person, from a different dimension, from his dimension- it doesn’t matter, he’s intrigued by you now

might brag a bit or be like “can you believe this?” when he sees you soul reading someone else

now there’s been multiple times throughout your guys’ friendship where you manage to slap him with some ungodly wisdom relating to him out of absolutely nowhere, and it never fails to catch him off guard

of course, hobie’s effortlessly cool, so being caught off guard is gonna keep making him feel a little vulnerable and flustered

especially when you just casually do one of the most in depth psychoanalysis of him ever for like the third time this week

he’s starting to think that you know something the rest of the multiverse doesn’t, how do you do that ?

“alright, alright! allow it, man, allow it.”

he’s laughing, but he’s also questioning where you stand in the world, are you secret intelligence ? tf is goin on

if you weaponise this ability to read people like an open book, then he can have fun with it

now it’s funny

especially if you guys are spider-people together and he just casually points out a villain you’ve been assigned to, with a look that says “ruin them”

this can also happen to random people on the street

it’s like how he can completely destroy peoples perception and faith in the establishment n all that, if you so choose, you can really make people feel seen or completely vulnerable or called out

after these encounters with bad people, he realises something about you

you’re somehow able to just know who to trust, and your guts never wrong

he wonders if it’s your spider-sense at first, if you have that

now he’s starting to piece everything together

you can easily distinguish between the good and bad people- the good you immediately trust and treat like an old friend

the bad, you never give the time of day

you’re always so quick to trust, and naive

but it’s starting to become clear to hobie that this isn’t nativity, you just have an uncanny ability to know people before they even introduce themselves

it’s kind of reassuring in a way, if he’s ever doubtful about someone, he’ll go to you and be like “thoughts?” then you can relay this insanely detailed psychoanalysis of this person you’ve just met

now he sees you as this incredibly insightful person, a lovely individual who has the potential to ruin lives with your insane ability to call people out

bonus:

if you guys are spider-people together, you’re both pretty well known for running your mouths

you instil fear

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

as always, lemme know if this ate or not and i’ll try my best to fix it !

#across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #headcanon #imagine #oneshot #ask #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #hobie x you #hobie x y/n #hobie x reader #hobie x gn!reader #hobie x gender neutral reader #hobie brown x gender neutral reader #hobie brown x gn!reader #spider punk

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shunshunrika · 11 months

Note

How about showering with megumi fushiguro? It was all innocent but then your thoughts won't keep the innocence anymore and ykykykyk.......

hello hello. Foremost, you are my very first ask! Cheers! Here's a star for you: ⭐

Now coming to megumi-chan~

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

warnings: smut, groping, nudity, cursing

characters: Megumi Fushiguro (Jujutsu Kaisen)

minors do NOT interact

⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧

you were a sworn hot-shower person and you were willing to die on that hill. Maybe scalding hot water wasn't a good choice for your skin and hair but you liked it that way. Lately though, you had been switching more to lukewarm or colder water. Why? Because Megumi blockhead Fushiguro would walk into the shower with you and increase the environmental temperature anyway! "It's faster. I've to get to work early. Hope you don't mind Y/N." was Megumi's matter-of-fact response when all of this first started. Now, it wasn't unusual for you to get lost in the suds, dancing along to the song playing in your head while Megumi snakes into the glass cubicle and squeezes your soapy waist.

Focus. Shower. This isn't the place to let your thoughts run stray.

You would bite your lips and continue scrubbing yourself as Megumi pooled shampoo into his palms and rubbed them together. His busy hands weren't doing a great job of hiding his decadent looking abs and semi-hard boner though. The drops of water from the shower trickled down his body, running in the creases formed by his muscles. His lashes dripped with crystalline water, making his green eyes pop and look ethereal.

"Help me, will you?" he says innocently, lowering his hand and bending his knees a bit so that you can reach his sud covered hair. You gulp as you hesitantly run your fingers through his sleek dark locks that usually stick out like an urchin.

"A little more thoroughly, please." He says, holding onto your forearms when he feels his feet slip a little on the slippery shower tiles. The increase in your rinsing force makes him lose his balance again anyway and awkwardly enough, he lands face first into your ample chest.

"M-megumi, are you alright?" you ask, concerned.

"Ah fuck. I was specifically trying to avoid something like this." you hear him mutter, his ears turning red as he doesn't quite distance himself from your chest, his grip on your arms only getting tighter. He then proceeds to latch on to one of your nipples earning a gasp from you.

"This will do. I don't want to do anything else here, it might not be safe. Don't mind me y/n" he says guiltily, removing his right hand off you and proceeding to stroke his hard on.

Don't mind, he says. Creating the perfect set up for something exactly like this to happen and then he says 'Don't mind'. What a cunning fellow. You continue soaping his hair although probably his hair was clean by now but you need something to keep you distracted while Megumi literally chewed on your nipple, making loud suckling noises like a baby while his fist pumped his cock. He lets go of your arm and presses you against the wall of the shower, his breath and heartbeat picking up pace and he mushes his face into the softness of your breast. He wastes no time moving from your chest up to your lips and enveloping you in a kiss that makes your head spin. He sucks on your lips as his climax chases him.

"Y- y/n. Ah, Ahhh shit!" he grits his teeth as spurts out his creamy sap onto your thighs. "Goddamnit, y/n."

"Well don't damn god or me, you silly thing." you say, looking at the milky art on your thighs, being diluted by the drops of water falling from overhead.

"I'll pay you back for this, tonight, in our comfy bed." he says, kissing your cheeks, preparing to leave. "Thanks sweetheart!"

you shake your head, turning off the shower. "And that's what he says everyday."

#megumi smut #megumi fushiguro smut #geto smut #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #fanfic #fluff #itadori #megumi fushiguro drabble #megumi fushiguro imagine #megumi fushiguro thirst #anime smut

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the-art-of-ancunin · 3 months

Text

I'll Be Good [One-Shot]

Summary: As the newest addition to the Vampire Ascendent's twisted little family, you've already proven yourself to be the most vexatious, obstinate, and thankless child he's had the pleasure of breaking. Though he hasn't succeeded quite yet, Astarion is determined to make you bend to his will, to mold you into something useful...though he realizes that perhaps his original intentions may have been a bit off the mark when you manage to pierce through his carefully built walls and awaken something in him that he assumed had perished long ago.

Pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Spawn!Female Reader

Content Warning(s): SMUT, dirty talk, Daddy kink, Creampie, P-in-V, unprotected sex, some overstimulation, etc.

Please let me know if I missed anything.

Also, again... I did not proofread this, no beta-reader, so it might be shit. Let's find out together.

Word Count: 4.9K

The moon hung like a pale specter against the blackened sky, casting a cold, silvery glow over the Crimson Palace as you approached its looming gates. The air was thick with the scent of decay and spices, mingling with the bitter tang of your own despair. Your steps were soundless against the well-worn cobblestones, betraying no hint of your return. Your mind churned with revulsion; you had ventured into Baldur's Gate under the gloom of night, not exactly as a predator but as bait, tasked to ensnare an innocent for your Master’s insatiable appetite.

"Six months," you whispered to yourself, the words a ghostly mist in the chill air. "Six months of this cursed existence." At first, Master Astarion had been lenient, allowing you time to adapt to the thirst that now clawed at your insides, to the newfound strength that coiled in your muscles like a dormant serpent. But his patience had waned and his expectations had risen like the tide.

"Useful" – the word twisted in your gut, a cruel mockery of servitude. You could scrub the castle from top to bottom until your hands bled anew, yet it would never be enough. Fetching trinkets, scrubbing stone, and worse…much worse. This was to be your life, and it all boiled down to control - to Astarion's iron grip on the reins of power, forcing you and everyone else to dance to his whims. You were no stranger to playing the pawn, your life prior stood as testament to the manipulation suffered by those who claimed authority over you. But at least back then, you figured, death would have been the end of it.

"There you are," a voice slithered from the shadows. You immediately stiffened, your undead heart a frozen shard in your chest. Astarion sat, reclined in a beautifully crafted chair situated near the front door - the dim light glinting off his gilded chalice, the crimson liquid within a stark reminder of your grim existence.

"Master," you acknowledged, the title a leaden weight on your tongue.

"Out and about, playing the part of the dutiful daughter?" His smirk cut through the darkness, a blade honed by centuries of cunning. "Yet, you return to me empty-handed. Again."

Your resolve flickered as you met his gaze, those vermillion eyes a tempest of enigmatic desires. "The night was...unkind to me, I admit. My apologies," you lied smoothly, your voice a practiced melody of regret.

"Unkind," he echoed mockingly. "For as pretty as you are, my sweet, it's quite astonishing how you've proven to be such a lousy whore. We all must earn our keep in this family, Y/N. You know this." His tone held the chill of an unspoken threat.

"Of course, Master," you said, your voice betraying none of the turmoil that raged within you. Your fists clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms, a small act of defiance against his suffocating rule.

"Words are but wind, my dear," He continued, rising gracefully to stand before you. "Actions are what bind us – or condemn us."

You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, as tangible as the stone walls that encased them. Every instinct screamed to flee, to rail against the chains that bound you to his side, but survival was a lesson hard-learned. Composure was your shield, obedience your sword.

"I'd be more than happy to clean this palace top to bottom every day until the sky falls down," you replied, each word measured and deliberate. "I've told you this a hundred times or more. I'll gladly earn my keep, but I am not going to whore myself just to keep your snack cupboard stocked. I'm not that type of girl and not even you can take that from me. I won't let you."

You let out a strangled yelp as your Master’s iron grip encircled your throat, the cold touch of his fingers a stark contrast to the fire that had been kindling between you moments before. Your feet dangled helplessly above the marble floor, your back collided harshly against the unforgiving stone wall behind you. His eyes, dark as you had ever seen them, burned into yours with an intensity that could sear flesh.

"Displeased, are we?" he sneered, the venom in his voice dripping like acid. "The world outside these walls is a cruel one, darling. You know that...but if you'd rather go waltzing back into your father's open arms...well, that can be arranged. That drunkard who treated you like filth? My...I'm sure he'd be quite surprised to see you."

Your blood pounded in your ears, each thrum a drumroll of panic and resignation. You could feel the oppressive weight of Astarion's power crushing your spirit, but the thought of returning to your father's brutality was a fate worse than any torment your master could devise. In a choked whisper borne of fear and desperation, you managed to utter, "No, no, no - Please..."

"Good," He growled. "So we have an understanding, then?"

Your nod was almost imperceptible, your gaze not leaving his. The silence stretched taut between you until you added softly, with a trace of disdain you couldn't suppress, "Yes, Daddy ."

His vermillion eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing within their depths. "What was that?" he demanded, his voice low and threatening.

Shit.

"Nothing, Master. I just said yes." Your words were barely audible, a mere breath carried on the stagnant air of the corridor.

"No. Say it again. As you did before," he commanded, something primal awakening inside him.

You hesitated. His grip tightened.

"Yes, Daddy." The words slipped from your lips, strained and hesitant. You couldn't decipher the look that painted his beautiful yet terrifying face—a mosaic of power, anger, and something else you dared not name.

He released his hold, allowing you to slide down the wall, your legs quivering as they struggled to support your weight. He didn't step away, though; instead, he caged you within the prison of his arms, his presence enveloping you. His hand, no longer a vise on your neck, traced a path up your trembling form, coming to rest beneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"Look at me," he whispered, his thumb brushing across your lower lip with a gentleness that belied the ferocity of his earlier actions.

You obeyed, your eyes locking onto his. There was no escaping the raw desire that swirled in those fathomless pools. The tension crackled between you, electric and overwhelming.

"Are you afraid, little one?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr that resonated in the hollows of your chest.

"Of you? Don't flatter yourself," Your reply came out steadier than you felt, the rebellious spark within you flickering to life despite the danger.

Your Master chuckled, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. "You should be. There are so very many things that I could do to you, sweet girl."

His breath brushed against your skin, igniting a shiver that danced along your spine.

"Perhaps it's time we renegotiate the terms of this little arrangement of ours, yes?" He purred, his grip on your chin tightening ever so slightly.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a cruel mockery of affection. You swallowed hard, your throat dry with fear and anticipation.

"What do you mean?" you squeaked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"I rule over this palace, this city, and over my... beloved children, with an iron first - it's true," he spoke lowly, his gaze never leaving yours, "But an unreasonable man, I am not. You want to refuse to work - to help provide for yourself and your family? For me, the man who gifted you with life eternal and stole you away from the misery of your previous existence? Who took you in from the slums to live in luxury inside of his palace? Well...so be it, darling. You don't want to whore yourself out on the streets? Fine . Allow me to show you what's to be expected of you now - think of this as a chance to prove your worth, hm? If you do well, you'll never have to set foot in the city ever again ."

You hesitated for a moment too long, the uncertainty in your eyes betraying you. Astarion's hand left your chin, replacing it with a firm grip around your upper arm, leading you down the shadowy corridor.

"Come now," he said, his tone gruff but laced with promise. "Let us test your... endurance , shall we?"

The darkness enveloped you as you journeyed deeper into the palace, each step echoing ominously in the dank corridors. With every passing moment, you felt more and more like you were spiraling into an abyss you could never escape.

Astarion stopped abruptly, pulling you to a halt in front of a heavy wooden door. Your stomach dropped.

The Kennels.

The knob turned with a groan, and the door swung open to reveal a small, windowless room, the air inside heavy with the scent of ancient blood and endless anguish.

You took a deep breath, your undead heart twisting violently in your chest. This was where all the "expendable" assets of the household were kept, the lowest of the low - and you knew it.

"Inside," He commanded coldly.

"No!" You cried as you tried to pull away from his grip, "Please, no! I'll be good - Please! Please, I swear it!" But his hold on you only tightened, his fingertips digging into your arm.

"You're going to learn, my dear," He murmured, his voice low and hungry, "You're going to learn to submit to me, one way or another."

With a harsh shove, you stumbled forward into the room. Air rushed out of your lungs as you hit the cold, unyielding stone beneath you, the room's darkness swallowing you whole. Astarion stood over you, his pale silhouette framed by the doorway.

"Careful now, pet," He cooed, clicking his tongue in faux concern. His voice was a melody that belied the danger it carried. "Are you hurt?"

Your palms stung with abrasions as you shuffled backward, your gaze locked onto the elf who towered above you. You hastily examined yourself, feeling the sting of fresh scrapes on your knees, the evidence of your flesh's betrayal: small droplets of blood blossoming against your skin. "I'm fine," you managed, your voice steadier than you felt, propped up on trembling elbows, the fabric of your dress offering scant protection from the chill of the room.

"Fine," he repeated, a predator's grin carving into his features as his eyes flicked to the wounds on your knees before raking over your form. There was something unsettlingly tender about the way he observed you, as if you were both prey and masterpiece all at once.

Astarion's movements were fluid as he began to unbuckle his belt. The leather slid through the loops with an ominous whisper, and the air grew thick with tension. A strange glint, like the edge of a knife, flashed in his eyes, capturing your every fleeting emotion: surprise morphing into disgust, then a shameful twinge of longing that betrayed your better judgment.

"Do you have any idea how long it has been since I've sought... relief, Y/N?" His voice was silk and steel.

"Hours, I presume?" Your voice dripped with malice, belying the flutter of your pulse at the sight of the discarded belt.

A chuckle escaped him, low and resonant, as he methodically worked the buttons of his shirt. "Decades," he corrected, the word punctuated by the soft pop of fabric yielding to his deft fingers.

"Decades seem but moments for someone with eternity at their disposal," you shot back, wearing your defiance as a thin veil.

He shrugged off the shirt, revealing his chest sculpted from moonlight and marble, his smirk cutting through the darkness. "I have not known another's touch since I was but a spawn myself," he confessed, his voice a hush of raw truth that slithered through the shadows. "A time before your father's seed even thought to take root."

Your laughter rang hollow in the confined space. "And am I to believe you've satiated yourself with nothing but your own hand? A creature as comely as yourself?" You challenged, pushing down the unnerving awareness of his proximity.

"Indeed." His affirmation was simple, yet it held the weight of ages within it. "Desire was a luxury stripped from me, a complication I was content to live without." A pause, and then he stepped closer. "Until a vexatious little brat invaded my sanctuary and ignited a problem I presumed to have been long extinguished."

Your mind whirred, caught between disbelief and the dawning realization of what this meant. Your body reacted more honestly than you cared to admit, a thrum of anticipation weaving through your veins despite the gravity of the situation. You cursed yourself inwardly, your instincts betraying you again—how could you desire this monster, this bastard, this tyrant?

His movements were fluid, a whisper of fabric against skin as he untied the laces that held his trousers. His deliberate hands betrayed no urgency, yet each motion was laden with intent. With a deft flick of his wrist, the garment fell away, followed by the muted sound of his underclothes as they joined the heap of discarded attire.

Your gaze traced the lines of his body, a study in contrasts—his pallid skin almost luminous against the room's shadows. Your breath left you as you noted the prominent veins low on his torso, like pale blue rivulets frozen in time, leading to the cradle of his arousal. Your Master stood unabashed, his bare body exposed to your gaze. His manhood, thick and rigid between his legs, continued to swell as he wrapped his long fingers around it. With each stroke of his hand, his cock throbbed and pulsed in response, the movements hypnotic and undeniably human. You couldn't tear your eyes away as he continued to pleasure himself in front of you. A flush crept up your neck at the sight of him, his nakedness and self-pleasure stirring something inside you. With each pull of his hand, more of his flushed head was revealed, his foreskin sliding back and forth like a dance of concealment and revelation that quickened your pulse.

"Undress," he ordered, his voice a velvet demand that left no room for argument. Clearing his throat, he held your gaze, the crimson of his eyes smoldering with a lifetime's worth of longing, suddenly exhumed from the depths of his being.

"Or do you need assistance?" There was a taunt woven into his words, a challenge that roused both defiance and curiosity within you.

"I'm not a child," you spat back, even as your fingers moved to the fastenings of your dress, a traitorous mix of fear and desire propelling your actions. Each button popped open, an audible punctuation to the silence that stretched between you, thick with anticipation.

As fabric parted to unveil your skin, your thoughts tangled with the implications of what lay ahead. Were you yielding to his will or seizing control of the only thing that you could—the power of your own flesh?

"Good girl," Astarion praised, a sinister satisfaction lining his tone. Yet, for all his composure, there was a glint of something else—a flicker of awe or perhaps admiration—at your defiant display of vulnerability.

"I'm not that, either," you whispered teasingly, lying bare before him on the cold stone in all of your glory, your chin lifted in silent rebellion. But the look in his eye, the way it softened ever so slightly, told you that the game had shifted, that this moment was more than a simple exchange of power. It was a crossing of thresholds, a venture into a realm where the line between captor and captive blurred into nothingness, leaving you simply as man and woman, bound by the weight of your desire.

The air grew heavy with the scent of lust as Astarion stepped closer, his hand a rhythmic presence on his needy cock. The moonlight cast an otherworldly glow upon his pale skin, turning it almost translucent as he moved like a creature of myth. He lowered himself to his knees with an effortless grace, parting your legs with a deliberate touch.

" Ahh , but you will be," He rasped. "You're going to be a very, very good girl for Daddy from now on, aren't you?"

You simply stared for a moment as you processed his words, your body responding involuntarily to the command in his tone—your nipples peaked in anticipation. A mix of fear and arousal churned within you as you met his eyes, so deep and captivating it felt as if he could see into the very depths of your soul.

A small, involuntary cry escaped you as Astarion pressed his cockhead against the slick warmth between your thighs. He drew the length of his hardness along your folds slowly, each stroke a promise of what was to come. When the tip brushed your swollen nub, a jolt of pleasure shot through your body, rendering you momentarily speechless.

"Y-yes," you managed to whisper, your eyes locked onto his with a mixture of trepidation and longing.

"Speak up, dear. I didn't quite catch that." His cheeky wit laced his words, though his expression remained intense, demanding.

Your lips parted, the words coming louder this time, filled with the knowledge of the power exchange between them. "Yes, daddy ."

"Again," he commanded, not because he hadn't heard you, but because he relished in the sound of your submission. Each repetition carved your acquiescence deeper into the fabric of this encounter between you.

"Yes, daddy," you repeated, your voice now steady with acceptance.

This was the game Astarion played best, a dance of dominance and surrender. After years of being subjected to Cazador Szarr's cruel whims, the tables had finally turned. Now he wielded control, and in it, he found a dark solace. No longer a pawn, he was now the master of his own desires, a vampire ascendant, savoring the sweet yield of another's will beneath him.

His hips slid forward with just enough force that it sent shivers coursing through your sensitive core. You arched beneath him, your back pressing against the cold stone, your nails scraping against it as you sought purchase. Your breaths came faster, your eyes widening in a mix of shock and pleasure.

"That's it, darling," He coaxed, his voice low and sultry. "Let me hear you say it. Tell Daddy what you want."

"I want you," you confessed, the words tumbling off of your lips like an admission of defeat. "Please fuck me."

Astarion chuckled deep in his throat, something wicked and wild in his eyes. With a burst of motion, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue darting into your mouth, tasting your submission.

"Try again."

"I want you," you said again, your voice shaking with anticipation. "Please, Daddy - Please, fuck me."

Your Master’s eyes burned with desire as he pulled back from your lips, the scent of your arousal filling his senses. He positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock already slick with your juices.

"Is this what you want, sweet girl?" he asked, his voice quiet and seductive, gently teasing your entrance with his swollen head as he spoke, "I need you to be certain."

"Yes, Daddy," you moaned, your hips bucking involuntarily, urging him closer.

With a low growl, Astarion pressed into you, letting out a small groan as his tip popped through the tight threshold of your snug channel. You were so small, so tight, and his cock stretched you like nothing you had ever experienced. The simple feat of taking the fat crown of him into your body had knocked the air from your lungs as your body attempted to adjust to the invasion, the pleasure mingling with the pain of being split open. You thanked the Gods that you no longer required air to live, as the intensity of that first shallow stroke paled in comparison to the fullness of feeling him sink another inch of his rigid shaft into you.

"Y/N," he groaned, his hips pulling back just slightly before pushing forward once more, sinking more of his cock into your tight hole every time he slid in and out of you in a gentle, steady rhythm.

You blinked a few times, mouth agape as your inner walls continued to struggle, hesitant to yield to him in spite of the way your arousal drenched your thighs. You could feel every inch, every pulse, every vein that adorned his hardness as he moved within you, opening you up in ways you had never imagined.

“Gods, Astarion," you whispered, your voice thick with desire. In spite of yourself, you found yourself craving that twinge of pain that pierced through your core each time he pressed a little deeper. Gods, it hurt but then…it felt so fucking good, too. You wanted nothing more than to feel him buried deep inside of you, until his heavy balls were pressed tightly against your bottom.

The pale elf snarled, almost as if he could read your mind - his thrusts becoming more forceful, his hips slamming against your delicate form. A sordid scream tore from your throat as your body was forced to accept him fully, the agonizing pleasure coursing through your veins with each thrust.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your moans echoing off the cold stone walls, merging into a symphony of passion and release. Astarion's hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrust into you with fervor.

He leaned down as he whispered into your ear, his voice a velvety promise. "You're going to come for me, aren't you, little one?"

A small moan escaped you, Astarion’s piercing gaze and the depravity of this intimate act overwhelming both body and mind. You could feel the hot wetness of your sex coating your inner thighs and dripping onto the stone below as your climax began to build.

"Yes," you whimpered, your voice filled with raw need. "Fuck, Daddy - I'm so close...,"

Astarion's hips pounded against you with increasing urgency as he felt you nearing your peak. He knew that once you came, you would be his, submission and surrender so complete that it would bind you together forever.

"That's it, darling," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Come for me. Scream my name as you take me. Let your brothers and sisters know who Daddy's favorite is."

He pumped into you harder, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound that permeated the air. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling as the intense pleasure built within you. You could feel your orgasm cresting, your walls tightening around his cock.

"Yes," you cried out, your voice strained. "Please, Daddy, I need you - I need to...ahhh!"

Hearing your plea sent a shockwave of desire through Astarion's body, causing him to press into the soft barrier of your cervix over and over again. His cock was like a branding iron, carving his name into the sacred landscape of your womb, of your very soul.

"Gods, yes," You mewled, your eyes locked onto his as the delicious dragging of his thick shaft moving inside of you became too much to bear. With a shuddering gasp, you came undone, your pussy clenching and spasming around him as wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over you.

Astarion watched your face as you came, the way your lips parted, your eyes rolling back into your head, your body bucking beneath him in unbridled passion. He knew this was only the beginning. As your orgasm subsided, he continued to rut into you, his cock twitching and throbbing with each stroke, eager to find its own release.

With each slap of his hips against yours, a whimper escaped your lips, your nails digging into the cold stone as your body was pushed to its limits. The pleasure was almost too much, but you found yourself craving more, wanting to give him everything you had.

As your orgasm faded into a gentle hum, you found yourself wanting to reciprocate. You wrapped your legs around your Master’s waist, pulling him closer to you, allowing him to fuck himself into you as deeply as he desired as your hips matched his rhythm. Your hands clutched him tightly, your nails softly digging into his skin as you found your own desire beginning to resurface.

"Daddy," you pleaded pathetically, "Fuck me. Make me yours. Please."

Astarion's eyes widened for but a moment at your words, his thrusts wavering only for a second before his flesh once again met yours with a punishing pace, the lewd sound of your squelching sex and skin meeting skin echoed off of the walls.

"That's it, sweet girl," he rasped, his voice breaking for just a moment as a moan escaped his lips. "Take it all. Let me feel you around me."

Your eyes locked onto his, your breaths coming in short gasps as pleasure and pain mingled within you, creating a symphony of sensations that threatened to consume you and suddenly you noticed that familiar tension building within you once again.

"Ahh, fuck...please," You cried, "Fuck, its too much..."

A choked scream tore from your chest before his name spilled from your lips, your body writhing beneath your master as his fangs pierced the skin of your neck.

Astarion drank deeply, the taste of your blood filling him with a sense of completeness he had never known. He pulled away, his lips leaving a faint kiss on the mark he had made on your neck.

"Ssshh - you're taking it so well, darling," he groaned, his hands gripped your hips roughly, pulling you tightly against him. "I'm so close, love. Come with me."

Your body trembled as your climax grew closer with each thrust of his cock into your wet heat. It felt like a wildfire, igniting every nerve and sensitive spot in your body.

"Please, Daddy," you whined, your voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies joining. " Ahhh -"

Astarion pistoned himself into you, his thrusts becoming erratic as once again you approached your peak. Your pussy clenched around him, urging him closer to his own release.

"That's it, pet," he purred, "Let it happen. Let go."

Your eyes fluttered shut, your body trembling as you surrendered to the sensations coursing through you. The agonizing fullness of your master spearing into your core all but consumed you entirely as you came undone once again - you cried his name from your lips, the sound reverberating throughout the palace.

With a deep, guttural growl, Astarion sank into you one final time, burying every last inch of himself inside of your pretty little cunt as his aching balls tightened. Every muscle in his body tensed and quivered as he emptied himself inside you, your bodies coming together in a carnal display of ecstasy and release. Your breathing was heavy and ragged, the sweat on your skin mingled with one another as you laid locked in each other's embrace. The intensity of the moment consumed you both, leaving you both trembling with raw passion and desire.

The quivering shadows on the walls seemed to dance with your lingering tremors, echoes of your pleasure slowly subsiding. Astarion withdrew himself from your tender warmth, leaving a palpable emptiness in his wake.

"Shh," He whispered against your flushed skin, his lips brushing your face and neck with a tenderness that belied his predatory nature, a stark contrast to the fervor you had just shared. With hands both firm and gentle, he turned you onto your stomach, the cool stone pressing against your cheek as you complied wordlessly.

Your hips were lifted by his confident grasp, baring you to him once more. The air caressed your exposed flesh, heightening your awareness of your own vulnerability and the wet that continued to coat and trickle down your thighs—a tribute to your union. Astarion's purr vibrated through the silence, a sound of dark satisfaction as he admired the sight before him.

"Look at you... such a good girl for me, Y/N." His voice was soft yet sinister, a paradox that sent shivers down your spine. As he stroked the swell of your ass with an almost reverent touch, you braced yourself. Expecting a strike that never came.

"Thank... thank you, Master," you managed, your words trembling as much as your body. Your eyes, heavy-lidded with exhaustion, sought out his face. Even now, his attention was fixated on the proof of his possession, the essence of him that marked you as his own.

His fingers traced the intimate path where your bodies had been joined, gathering the evidence of his claim and deliberately pushing it back inside of you with a possessiveness that was both invasive and oddly comforting. You winced, the sensation overwhelming yet incomplete without him filling you entirely.

"Is it too much?" he teased, his tone laced with feigned concern and a pout that only served to mock. You could see the glint of amusement in his eyes, the playful cruelty that he so often enjoyed.

You shook your head, a silent plea for him to continue, to test the boundaries of your resilience. You would endure; you would be good.

You promised.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion smut #daddy k!nk

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thewulf · 6 months

Text

I Got You || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was wondering if I could request a Jake Seresin x reader where they're friends but they definitely have more between them, a supposed 'best friend' of the reader says something about the reader in a group setting about her past that she had told him in confidence... Read Rest Here

A/N: Jake Boy! Thank you for the request @stuffingbuttsandshit

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 2.0k +

TW: Parental abuse, beating, mentions of blood

Your heart raced making it hard to hear, only the rushing of blood in your ears as you processed what your longtime friend just said in front of the entire squadron. You’d told him that little bit about yourself in confidence, in private. It wasn’t meant for the ears of the entirety of base.

After a particularly shaky day up in the air your partner in the sky, Max, pulled you to the side trying to get to the bottom of why you were suddenly flying so distracted. A subtle way to say that you were flying like dog shit. Not that you could deny it, you were. But you couldn’t help it, not at all. You’d been called by your lawyer from long ago, from when you were just a child. He’d called to inform you that your abusive piece of shit of a father had been let out of prison on ‘good behavior’. You couldn’t stop the anxiety from creeping in. You’d testified against him. You’d helped put him behind bars. Damn, it was so long ago and now it was confronting you right in the face yet again.

He'd nearly beat your mother to death by the time the police arrived. You’d found her phone making sure to dial 9-1-1 before hiding under your bed. It wasn’t you this time. No, but your poor, sweet mother was on the end of his abuse this time. He’d only hit you a few times. But he’d only hit her a few times before you’d witnessed what you thought was your mother dying right in front of you. Any longer and she would’ve been. You were just thirteen when it all went down.

You were twenty-eight now. Fifteen years had passed. Your mom recovered. Took some time and found a new boyfriend. One that you loved. They got married when you were eighteen. She’d found her person. You were shown what love was. Finally, after all those years of nothing but abuse she’d been set free. You’d been set free.

You knew nothing would realistically happen, but you couldn’t held the nerves that spilled over into your work. What if he just showed up? Would he try and kill you? Talk it out?

Anxiety was eating away at you. Flying was the last damn thing on your mind. So, when Max did pull you aside you spilled your guts to him. He’d consoled you as you cried in his arms. He’d been your friend for so long. Since flight school even. You thought he was your biggest ally.

But when you heard those words, “Even Y/N isn’t perfect. She’s got a few scars from her daddy. Isn’t that right?” Max spoke so casually in front of the halfway drunk dagger squad.

It wasn’t malicious, you chose to believe that anyway. He’d even looked somewhat apologetic as hurt and discomfort flashed through your eyes. Nobody, not a damn soul knew about that. Nobody from your previous life knew about it. You’d told him in confidence, or so you thought. You’d never dreamed of them finding out, not the entirety of your coworkers. It wasn’t a direct confession though. You’d gotten a few quizzical looks from the pilots who couldn’t connect two and two. But a few of them got it. They looked away awkwardly, not daring to say a word.

You smiled slightly trying to hide your dumb expression, “Yeah, we’ve all got issues.” You nodded taking a large drink from your glass. When you looked up you saw his eyes on you. Jakes big green eyes were watching you awkwardly avoid the conversation so suddenly. He was one of the few that got Max’s insinuation. Because of course he did. Jake was smart. Cunning. He was surely going to use it against you at some point. He was more competitive than anybody you’d come across. He used any advantage he could. And knowing that would certainly be an advantage.

Trying to avoid his obvious gaze on you, you decided to finish your beer. It was the perfect excuse to get up to go get another. You jumped up from the high top you were sitting at making sure to grab your empty glass before vanishing off in the thick crowd.

When you got your refreshed beverage back from the bar you decided on walking outside and taking a moment before joining the group again. Little did you know you had a blonde pilot following you. Jake had always had a little bit of a soft spot towards you. He needed to make sure you were alright. Your demeanor signaled something was off.

Not a few seconds later Jake walked out seeing you sitting down on a bench watching the ocean. You were so focused in you hadn’t even heard Jake approaching. You’d only noticed him once he set his glass down next to yours.

“Jake!” You jumped slightly from your seat.

“Are you okay?” He asked catching you off guard.

“I’m okay.” You answered quickly avoiding his questioning gaze. Something was off, he wasn’t dumb. You were never so timid, not with him.

“No, you aren’t. What’s going on Y/N?” He asked in a gentler voice. Hoping you’d open up just a little to him.

“I just…” You took a moment to find the words, “Nobody was supposed to know that about my dad. I’m not my abusive piece of shit of a father. I can’t change my past. I just, I don’t know.” You let a tear fall. It was an impossible task to not cry. You’d done so damn good for so damn long and one little slip up ruined the illusion of you.

Jake squeezed your shoulder hoping it’d give you some comfort, “They had no idea what Max was even saying.”

“You did though.” You countered him quickly.

He nodded, “They’re not me.” A small smirk formed on his face. Classic Jake. Little did he know it helped though, even the smallest amount.

“Yeah, sure.” You sighed sounding oddly defeated. Not having that usual fire when bantering back and forth between him. You just didn’t have it in you. Not tonight. Not after that low blow from your friend.

“Hey,” He tugged at your arm gently so that you’d look at him, “I promise you they don’t have a clue. And you’re right. You aren’t your dad. You aren’t even your mom. You are you. And thank goodness you are.” He gave you a smile so genuine that you were pretty sure you were seeing him in an entirely new light.

“I thought you hated me Seresin.” You felt an odd sense of relief over his newfound softness towards you. It shouldn’t have made you feel as damn good as it did but here you were.

He sat down next to you quickly, “Could never. I’m really sorry I ever made you feel like that. I thought you liked it. The way we… talk.”

You felt him scoot a little bit closer. Your head turned to him looking at him, “It’s fine.” As quickly as you looked at him you turned away feeling painfully awkward with just him, so damn close. You’d never really thought of him as more than a colleague

He frowned seeing you turn in on yourself. He usually brought out the fiery side in you. This was different. A bad different, “Are you okay?” He asked wanting so desperately to take your hand in his, but he didn’t. He knew it’d be too much considering it looked like you were about to break.

Were you okay? No, not really. You were an anxiety ridden mess with the worst thoughts racing through your head. With your elbows on your knees, you placed your head in the palm of your hands contemplating what the hell you wanted to say to him.

Slowly you shook your head back and forth, “No.”

“Can I hug you?” He moved just a touch closer just waiting on your word.

You didn’t have to think much before you were nodding and mumbling, “Please.”

That was all he needed before he grabbed you, pulling you right into his lap, holding you as close as you needed, “It’s okay, you’ll be okay.” He spoke into your hair as you laid you head on his chest. This was certainly not how your day was going to go, cuddled up on Hangman’s lap about to cry your eyes out. But you were holding on. You really didn’t want to cry like this in front of him.

But the next sentence made the damn burst, “I really am glad you’re you. That you’re here. You push me, make me better.” He admitted before continuing, “Whatever it is, I’ll be there for you. Promise.”

How could you not cry? Here was this so-called asshole being the sweetest to you. Truly, nobody had ever been so loving towards you other than your mother.

He didn’t say a word as you broke in front of him, a nightmare only hours ago. But now? Now it felt comforting. He pulled your head flush to his chest as he let you cry. Fisting his sweater in your grasp you just let yourself cry. But even that had to stop.

When he heard your sniffled die down he spoke again, “It’s okay. I got you. I got you.” You’d be lying if the gentle whispers and his hand running through your hair didn’t make you feel something more, even just a little.

“I’m so sorry.” Mild embarrassment overcame you realizing how snuggled up to the man you hardly knew you were.

Giving you a gentle squeeze, he opted to just hold you, “No need to apologize darlin’. Are you going to be alright?” He had to ask again having to know what you needed. He felt paralyzed, unsure of how to help.

“My dad. He got out of prison last night. I’m just… so scared of him.” Letting out a shuttered breath you didn’t dare look up to him. You felt his eyes on you.

Jake felt like his heart broke then and there. Here you were terrified and clinging to him. Scared of what he assumed to be an abusive man who must’ve done something bad to get locked behind bars. You’d tell him the whole story eventually.

“I’ll stay with you tonight.” He answered so quickly you weren’t sure if he had even processed his own words.

You shook your head, “I can’t ask that of you Jake…”

He stopped you, “You didn’t ask. I’m offering sweetheart. Please, let me do this. It’ll help. I promise.”

You finally looked up at him, “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

You nodded briefly, “Okay.”

“Alright. I’m driving.” He didn’t give you a second to protest before he stood quickly, bringing you up in his arms.

“I can walk Jake.” You tried squirming out of his grasp. He only gripped onto you more tightly, a smug smile coating his face.

“I’m aware Y/N.” He still didn’t put you back on the ground, only quickened his pace to his truck.

He opened the door to his truck, setting you down and shutting the door behind him. Jumping into the driver’s seat he turned on the truck looking over at you. He watched as you buckled in and looked out the window without so much of a thought crossing your eyes.

“What’s going on it that head of yours?” He asked quietly hoping not to startle you out of your thoughts too drastically.

“As fucked up as it is, I just wish he would’ve died in there.” You admitted not really caring about how he felt about you right about now.

Jake shrugged, “Sounds like the feeling is warranted.” He said nonchalantly as he started the drive back to your place. You’d plugged in your address into his phone, so you didn’t have to think about it.

“You don’t even know the story.” Why were you even beginning to defend your father? He was a cruel, evil man.

“But I do know you a bit. I know your rational. Smart. Kind. You don’t get there without reason.” He said casually continuing the short drive home.

You sighed wishing your stupid brain could just drop it.

He gave your thigh a light squeeze, “I got you. From here on out, okay? I got you.”

You gave him a soft smile choosing to believe that “Thank you Jake.”

He nodded, “Anytime darlin’. Anytime.”

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haerin1 · 7 months

Note

hcs you have for Scara? Love seeing new writers around here 🫶

꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ SCARA HEADCANNONS.

note: omh ty for the req !! i did 2 versions bcause i got carried away UM anw enjoy xoxo kisses hugs :33

[wanderer!scara, modern au!scara x gn!reader] fluff, pinches of angst, mentioned mommy issues and trust issues !!

modern au scara !!

Scara is definitely a band kid and in my opinion, he'd absolutely be an electric bassist. He carries around the band-aids you gave him so he can use one whenever his fingertips get cut from the tough strings of the instrument.

Scara loves judging everybody in his classes and making people uncomfortable because he's a menace like that. His narrowed sapphire gaze following certain people with ill thoughts and a slight grimace; you already know he's judging them real hard.

It's simply impossible for him to go a day, no, even an hour, without his headphones and downloaded music from his favourite artists. Scara's music taste consists mostly of Chase Atlantic, Artic Monkeys, TV Girl, Cigarettes After Sex and he's a closeted Mitski listener.

Mommy issues and miscommunication trope with Ei. Scara aspires to be anything else but the occupation Ei suggested for him. Ei compares Scara to his sister, Raiden, without knowing it hurts Scara's feelings because she's bad at communicating and getting her words right overall.

Shops at Hot Topic and Miniso. Miniso, because he only goes there for the Kuromi stuff that reminds him of you (since you're always telling him how you and him are literally Kuromi and Badtzmaru) and Hot Topic is self-explanatory.

Adding onto the Kuromi and Badtzmaru topic. Ever since you made that comment, Scara ended up loving that specific pair of cute Sanrio characters. He now owns a Badtzmaru hoodie (yours is a Kuromi one: hashtag couple goals), five Kuromi figures and more than thirty things consist of Badtzmaru in his bedroom.

Scara's bedroom is neat but messy at the same time. The room is fairly big and he has his bassist on its stand in the corner of the room with a huge Badtzmaru plushie sitting on the floor by it. His bed is filled with your gifts of plushies from past dates or occasions.

Scara has an area dedicated to his favourite music artists with posters of their albums plastered to the black painted wall. You bought him TV Girl's French Exit vinyl for his birthday, which he always plays on the record player whenever you come over or when he's missing you (by missing you, I mean whenever you're not with him).

Everytime you mention a new song you like, Scara immediately learns it on his bass so he can impress you. You find it so cute how these little gestures of his are all for your compliments and affection when all he could do is breathe and you'd be head over heels for him.

Scara is unfiltered, cunning and a tease. He'll say whatever he wants at any given time and doesn't mind what people think at all (he fights back the urge to rock someone's shit when they disagree with him.) He's your cute little drama queen.

genshin au scara (wanderer) !!

Wanderer's favourite time of day is when the sun starts to set and he gets to have his long awaited tea time with you. You know the perfect way on how to make his tea and it's so natural to the point of when Wanderer tastes any other tea, it just can't compare to the way you make it.

Despite loving you very dearly, and he'd never admit this last bit aloud, he still has some sort of doubt against you. Should something happen to you that marks your permanent disappearance that neither you or him could prevent, what would he do? Wanderer simply does not know. And he certainly wouldn't want to know.

Wanderer enjoys the feeling of your hands in his hair. Whether your hands are soft, rough, cold, or warm, he doesn't mind. He just loves feeling your gentle and affectionate touch against his head as you play with his hair or even braid some strands together.

In general, Wanderer loves physical touch. Holding hands, soft kisses and hugs; It's all so wonderful to him. It makes him feel wanted and loved, like you actually think of him dearly. He loves it especially when you initiate it first. After that, he'll be more than comfortable doing it without waiting for you to do it ahead of him.

Wanderer keeps all of the silly trinkets, gifts and letters you've given him in a box that's kept in a very safe place where no one knows, not even you. Everytime he comes across it, unknowingly to him, a soft smile forms on his lips as he remembers the fact that he's this important to you.

Wanderer absolutely adores it when he makes you smile or laugh. He'll proudly smirk and throw in a teasing remark at this but is hiding the fact that he's just an embarrassed doll with an adorable lover. He loves making you feel good, both verbally and physically, as it feeds his ego and reassures him that he's doing great at being your beloved.

Wanderer's gifts for you are usually handmade, like the cute doll that looks like you which he got to keep so he could give you a doll that looks like him in return. He loves seeing you carry the doll around with you when you want to take it out of your messenger bag, holding it so gently as if it were Wanderer himself.

Whenever you're not paying attention, Wanderer looks at you and observes you. He loves noticing new little things about you, like the way you make little popping noises with your lips when you're bored or the way you subconsciously reach out to hold onto his hand. He adores every, single, little thing.

Wanderer often finds himself trying to impress you. If he sees you walking about, he'll immediately find something heavy to pick up and "coincidentally" run into you so he can make sure you see his amazing skills. You find this habit of his somewhat adorable as you smile and praise him for his strengths. He ends up getting quite flustered, in the end.

Depending on Wanderer's mood, he'll be very flirty one moment or very shy the next. If you manage to outdo him with his charming comments, trust me, he turns into the cutest blushing mess ever. He'll look away as he denies your question about whether he became timid or not.

#✮+ cyvie's web library !#gender neutral reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche modern au #genshin modern au #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche fanfics #scaramouche fanfiction #scaramouche fluff #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #scaramouche imagines #kunikuzushi #wanderer

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 7 days

Note

Djdhxhkkxkxy Do my eyes deceive me? Are requests open? How would yandere Shizuo, Izaya, and Jason Todd treat a scared unwilling virgin darling?

Have a nice day Sloot!!!!

Enjoy below the cut!

Shizuo wouldn't force anything sexual on them until they're ready; if he initiates anything he'll stop if they move away or even if they freeze up, just because he's very aware of how much stronger he is than them. If he does get turned on, he's more likely to just turn over in bed and rub one out.

He would also try his best out of these 3 to give them space, with his only yandere tendencies being him pining over Darling from afar and beating the shit out of anyone that gives them trouble. He doesn't want to be a monster and kidnap them or anything, so he just watches over them in his spare time. If he gets caught, he apologizes and says he just wanted to make sure they were okay on their walk home. Ikebukuro's a dangerous place and a person like them is an easy mark.

If they're targeted by Izaya or other dangerous people in Ikebukuro (and let's be honest, once people realize Shizuo is with them all the time, they become a target), THEN he'll take matters into his hands and take Darling somewhere safe like his apartment until the people after Darling are dealt with. And he never really feels like they're truly safe, so he doesn't want them to move back to their own apartment. He'll find a way to pay for their rent, so they don't have to worry about it. What matters is that he's keeping them safe.

He wishes they'd reciprocate, but he won't force them to love him. He has a bit of self-loathing because he knows he's got something wrong with him to think this way (obsessing like this over Darling, his anger issues, etc). If they ever do show a bit of affection towards him or even just stop being as afraid of him, he's so happy.

Izaya's easily the most selfish and the least regretful about what he's doing. Humans are interesting, even ones like Darling who live mundane lives and are so timid. If we're stretching the whole "wanting to reach Valhalla and being a gigantic parallel to Loki" concept, then Darling is...hm, a little too meek to be Angrboda. Izaya thinks Sigyn would fit her best. But instead of holding a bowl to keep snake venom from dripping onto his face while bound to a rock, Darling can cure his boredom for a little while.

Sigyn's not really well known outside of that legend of her dutifully tending to Loki while he's being imprisoned on that rock, and like her, Izaya wants to know about the secrets and hidden aspects of Darling. Mikado was and still is a timid boy, but he's capable of holding a lot of power and being more cunning than he initially looks. What about Darling? How will she fit on his game boards? What schemes can he rope her into?

Of these 3, Izaya has the lowest sex drive imo. The idea of seducing Darling as a game or fun method to alleviate his boredom and have a special piece of their mind/body does sound interesting...but it's got to be through manipulation. Just holding them down and using force is too quick, there's no point or interest in it--but manipulating his skittish little Darling, turning them into his Sigyn and keeping them as his special human? That's more fun.

He teases them all the time and does just enough to make them feel conflicted, a little nervous or afraid but also a little curious. Lots of touching them playfully, stealing a kiss, being a little too close when talking to them, leaving presents for them. And of course, he's tracking their online presence, putting hidden cameras and bugs in their apartment, etc. He watches them on one monitor while he works and treats it like a screensaver or an idle hobby.

Jason would snatch them up way quicker than Shizuo. Gotham is a dangerous place. Hell, it's THE dangerous place, and someone like Darling needs to be protected from being hurt/kidnapped/taken advantage of. Unlike Shizuo though, he would struggle a lot more with respecting their boundaries. He would try but he's also so obsessed and clingy and touch-starved that he wants, NEEDS to be close with them. Typically this is just forced cuddling, but sometimes he'll touch them or rut against them during it and insist that's as far as he'll go. It's still not fair to Darling though

He hates himself like Shizuo does for violating Darling's boundaries like that and still doing it despite knowing it's wrong. He's so warped and broken that he can't even love someone without ruining it and making them miserable and afraid. He apologizes to Darling whenever he scares them or whenever he raises his voice without meaning to. All it takes is them flinching and he immediately lowers his voice and tries to comfort them.

He won't take their virginity unless they say they want that and/or act on it themselves, just because he wants it to be special for them. He WILL give them oral whenever he's clingy or just needs to let out how much he needs them and wants to make them feel good.

#tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #.drrr #.izaya #.shizuo #.jason todd #.arkhamverse #.dc #.arkham knight #.red hood #yandere drrr #yandere izaya #yandere shizuo #yandere jason todd #yandere arkhamverse #yandere dc #yandere arkham knight #yandere red hood #.myshit

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silverzoomies · 2 months

Text

Cunning Linguist

pietro maximoff x reader smut

warnings: cunnilingus, porn with (slight) plot, blow jobs, dissociative identity disorder, dissociation, existential crisis, smut, shameless smut, halloween, canon divergence

word count: 3,990

a/n: i meant to finish this ages ago. but i always overthink shit. i rewrote this several times, and it still doesn't feel worth posting. oh well !! just meaningless filth - same old story, different clothing. i wanted to play with the concept of pietro as an alter in ralph's head. again. lol

he's a little ooc here. but i'm blaming the brain fog. i'm running on three hours of sleep every night. fuck it, we ball. also, not including a tag list because tumblr's system kinda sucks for it. sorry !!

Pietro recalled the moment his consciousness came to light.

Agnes waved her spooky hands in his face, as though she were taunting him. She muttered incantations under her breath. The words of which Pietro didn’t recognize as English. After implanting sentimental memories in his mind - based on stories of Wanda’s childhood - she sent him off on his own. Like letting a dog loose, free to roam.

Pietro’s mission? Find Wanda, have a gabfest or two, extract information. Or something along those lines. Pietro hadn’t paid much attention while Agnes yapped about it. Why focus on that, when the mystery of his own sentience piqued his interest instead?

He was given an easy enough job to do. No problem-o. Pietro had a talent for pestering people til’ they cracked. That’s what Agnes told him, anyway. He wasn’t too sure why she wanted him to play undercover rat. It had something to do with magic. Pietro knew that much. There was some kinda witch-on-witch rivalry in the works. But unfortunately for Agnes - and maybe fortunately for Wanda - she might have to take a raincheck on her duel of the sorceresses.

Pietro could be a bit of a dipshit. Was he stupid? Not so much. He had brains where it counted. He could be crafty. Even sneaky. But his expert level slyness didn’t make him any less of an idiot. Pietro couldn’t refute that factoid about himself. Around Wanda, he forgot how to function like a normal person. Which he blamed on the fact that he wasn’t a normal person. Being brutally honest with himself; Pietro technically wasn’t even a person at all.

More like a conceptual incarnation of human sentience, really. Simple enough.

No ifs, ands, or buts about it, though - Pietro carried the irksome flaws of a human. Often, he acted thoughtless when he didn’t mean to. Without filtering himself first, Pietro unapologetically spoke his mind. He’d drop fourth-wall breaking quips here or there. Sometimes, his careless habits made for entertaining slip ups. Perfect for sitcom shenanigans. Other times, his blunders resulted in pain. Lotsa pain.

Halloween night, Pietro found himself whisked away by a forceful wave. Conjured by Wanda’s potent magic. The same power Agnes wanted her wiggly witch fingers on. After going aerial in a wild whoosh, Pietro got up close and friendly with some Halloween decorations. But, hey, what’re a few broken bones between pseudo siblings, eh?

Wanda sure had a helluva temper. She quickly banished Pietro from ever setting foot in her house again. Talk about a major bummer. Pietro suffered a huge loss on that front. One part because he’d have no choice but to crash with Agnes again. Ninety nine parts because he’d miss his troublemaking nephews. Those fun, lil scamps.

Tough luck, Quickie. Try and do better next time.

Honestly, he’d prefer if there wasn’t a next time. If Agnes wanted to make small talk so bad, she could do it on her own. Calling it quits for the night, Pietro wandered off to a Westview bar. To his surprise, he found the place still in operation. And despite Pietro’s memories - vague imagery of Busch beer cans crushed under his fist - he hadn’t had a beer since his consciousness manifested. Shit. Did he even like beer? Whether he cared for it or not, a subconscious instinct drew him to it.

He assumed that instinct was none other than Ralph himself. The poor dude wanted to drown his terror in alcohol. And after all the twisted shit Agnes put Ralph through; who was Pietro to deny him one of life's simplest pleasures?

The mellow atmosphere of the bar oozed Halloween spirit. Kinda unnecessary, in retrospect. Considering Wanda never stopped by for a drink. Why bother sprucing the place up with her wispy magic, if it never saw any use?

The bartender’s clever quips reminded Pietro of Cheers. Another totally bonkers concept. Pietro had memories of watching Cheers, sure. But he couldn’t decipher if they were Ralph’s or not. For all Pietro knew, they might be a part of the ‘dead brother’ package deal. False memories, meant to give Wanda someone to relate to. Making him liable to tear down her defenses when she least expected it.

But why did Pietro get the sense he was more of a Frasier guy anyway?

Sitting at the bar on a rickety stool, Pietro spun around to satiate his boredom. He cradled a beer, inhaling all of it in a single beat. Superspeed really did have its ups and downs. Consider quick consumption a positive. As far as negatives go…well…inebriation was completely unattainable. Sucks for Ralph. As Pietro flagged down the bartender for another beer, he tuned his ears to a radio broadcast. On a shelf amidst dollar store Halloween decor; a radio droned old fashioned tales of wicked witches. Subtle.

Outside interference interrupted the broadcast. Voices intermingled between buzzes of static. Whispering soft, but panicked mantras of 'Wanda? Wanda, are you there?' Pietro narrowed his beady eyes. His ignorance of the world outside Westview should’ve stayed intact. But whatever the reason, he knew exactly where those voices came from. Why he carried such knowledge was anyone’s guess. Maybe Agnes let too much her own insight slip into his psyche. Whoopsies. Oh well. Shrugging, Pietro flagged down the bartender for another beer. Deja vu.

Bored outta his mind, his thoughts explored elsewhere.

Pietro dreamt of something a little more down to earth. He remembered a cutie-pie neighbor new to Westview. A ‘next door’ kinda type, with a quirky sorta charm. They had no idea why they were in the city to begin with. Pietro knew these details, only because he gathered the what’s what on just about every person in town. It took him all of two seconds to do so. Zip around. Observe. Make mental notes. Report back to Agnes. Spill the deets.

Anyway, about you…

Call it a crush, loneliness, or even instinctive lust; whatever the case, Pietro thought you were cute as could be. You didn’t remember how you got to Westview, or where you even came from. One day, you woke up in town, and found yourself wearing unfamiliar clothes. Threads evocative of decades long past. But hey, it happens to the best of us. Pietro was well-acquainted with feelings of confusion and alienation. That mingled sense of being both lost, and born anew.

For crying out loud, he was the very materialization of sapient awareness itself. Agnes forbade him from that knowledge as well. But again, Pietro credited his oopsies and ding-dongs to her shoddy miracle work.

Whenever you questioned the reality around you, the world only stifled you into silence. The everyday citizens of Westview seemed so content with life as it was. Acting as if you had nothing to worry about. Wanda’s sitcom setup was nothing beyond sunshine, rainbows, and television tropes. But Pietro could see the unspoken terror hidden deep in their eyes. The truth Wanda kept hush hush.

Just thinking about it was enough to give Pietro the heebie jeebies. And if his intuition was anything to go by - it never proved him wrong yet - you had a bad feeling about Westview too. Way to go! You caught on even quicker than he did. Which was kinda nuts, if he thought about it. Wasn’t he supposed to be the fastest at everything? ‘Cuz speed was his middle name or something. Or…well, it wasn’t. But it could be. Who’s to stop him from seizing his own destiny at this point?

Pietro Speed Maximoff.

Eh, maybe not.

In Westview, you had no friends or family. And much like Pietro, on Halloween night; you found yourself at the bar. He caught your curious gaze from down the counter. You were dolled up in a scanty, witch's dress, leaving Pietro to wonder why witches were such a recurring theme in his life. Looking too much like a manchild goober, he spun around a few more times in his seat. His sneakers kicked against the stool’s railing. No matter what, he couldn’t sit still. He thought he might be embarrassing himself. But his antics appeared to make you smile even brighter.

Tilting your head, you shot him a look of familiarity.

You weren’t familiar with him, though. But there was a chance you saw him appearing and disappearing around town. During his impromptu stake outs, more than likely.

Bringing your drink to the seam of your lips, you stifled a playful giggle. It was obvious you were gawking at his costume. Arching a brow, Pietro grinned into the rim of his beer bottle. To be fair, he looked supremely ridiculous. The blue tights under his cut-off jean shorts rode up in the crotch a little too much. He dipped his head, staring at the frayed edges of his shorts. Yeah. It was clear he did the job cutting them himself. A hasty one too. Since he was too eager to pull pranks with his nephews.

Damn. Pietro missed those kids like hell already.

The dirty blond hair/ear-things atop his head bounced every time he knocked his neck back. As Pietro downed yet another beer, he lost track of how many he drank. A dribble of it plummeted into silver. Creating a sheen against the lightning bolt duct taped diagonally down his shirt. Pietro sighed and pursed his lips.

His outfit was an all blue ensemble. Garnished with a spritz of silver here or there. Quicksilver. His hero name, apparently. Pietro knew he’d never live up to it.

A bit of friendly conversation later, and the air between the two of you shifted. Your playful look morphed into something a little wanton, the more Pietro acted in silly ways. Holy shit. Seriously? He hoped he wasn't misreading your signals. Because really, your attraction was too good to be true. If you honestly wanted him, where should he proceed from here? How much freedom had Agnes even allowed him? And furthermore - if Wanda’s happy, dream town ran on a curated schedule; what if credits rolled just as the two of you finally got handsy?

Maybe sitcom rules didn’t apply to conscious manifestations of witch hocus pocus? Wishful thinking on his part.

Outside the bar - in an alleyway too uncannily clean, like a set straight out of Hollywood - Pietro beckoned you in with kisses. Technically, he played the role of Agnes’s deadbeat husband. And if that were the case, did kissing you count as cheating? Shit…was Pietro committing adultery right now?? In the midst of macking on your sweet lips, he pressed a palm to the wall next to your head. Pietro pretended to do so for balance, as he devoured you with his mouth and tongue.

But unbeknownst to you, he cracked an eye open. Just to double check for a wedding band.

Nothing there to prove he ever got hitched. Go figure.

You giggled coyly into his lips, letting a soft moan ease through your teeth. Bringing your hands up to the hair/ear-things on his head, you toyed with them. Your pretty voice teased him, as you played with his hair in gentle strokes of your thumbs.

“Ooooh…such a good boy, huh? Fast too.” You cooed, the same way one might praise a puppy.

Oh. Fuck yeah. To hell with sitcom tropes and bogus wives. Agnes scared the ever-loving shit out of Pietro anyway. He had no semblance of a domestic connection to her. Not that she gave much of a damn herself. With how often she threw insults his way. Agnes always used Ralph as her little punching bag, before hijacking his body for her own gain.

No wonder your simple praises got his proverbial tail wagging.

A chuckle hummed in the back of his throat, as Pietro purred into your lips, “Speed’s kinda my middle name, y’know?”

You snorted one of the dorkiest laughs he’d heard since cognisant birth. And with a sudden spark of primal urgency; Pietro felt something else spring into transcendence down below.

Sifting through Ralph’s sidelined psyche, Pietro came to realize how much of a recluse he was. The guy never seemed to get out much. In fact, Agnes might’ve even been his first partner. If one could classify her as such. So, really, Pietro was doing him a major favor. If Ralph knew he planned on using their body for some frisky fun - on an otherwise lonely Hallow’s eve - surely, he’d give his brain roomie some thanks.

Pietro’s hands were vascular like a wired-up machine, clad in arm-warmer paws. Grabbing hard onto your curvy hips with them, he pulled you in closer. He sought the friction of your crotch against his. And after some seriously sloppy making out, Pietro dropped you an invite to his place.

Or…Agnes’s place.

Uh…or…was it technically Ralph’s? Shit, this sitcom roleplay sure gave way to some mental gymnastics.

You didn’t expect Pietro to zip you off at superspeed. Moving abruptly fast, he brought you straight to his disaster of a man cave. Laying you back on the futon, he gave you little time to adjust over the blankets. The wrinkled fabrics reeked of pot, in desperate need of a wash. You got as comfy as you could on the skunky sheets. Blinking your needy gaze up at him, you tugged his white belt, pulling the band undone. Pietro grinned lazily, colliding his swollen lips into yours. His primal instincts left him wreckless with want.

Burying his tongue in the cavern of your mouth, he brought with him the flavor of cheap booze. As you tasted him, you moaned, shucking his dumb jorts down his hips. A sizable swelling twitched in his tights, squirming under muted blue. Your eyes bulged in their sockets, cartoonishly wide. The way you whirled your tongue across your lip gave off a vibe of animalistic hunger. As though you were eager for an all dick dinner. With Pietro as the appetizer.

And the main course. And the dessert. He hoped you'd rate him five stars.

Restaurant metaphors aside; this was the very first test of his capabilities as a lover, after all. If he couldn’t live up to his superhero name, maybe he could make a name for himself in other ways.

Pietro Speed Maximoff. Quicksilver. Cunning Linguist.

But first…he really should satiate your hunger.

One, generous tug downward, and Pietro’s - or Ralph’s - slightly above average length sprang out. Bouncing in your face in mesmerizing oscillation, his cock appeared pulsating and roused. Thick veins weaved like threads through his shaft, akin to his vascular hands. His balls bulged in his tights, his jorts hanging halfway down his thighs. Pietro took his blistering cock in hand. Aching for the kind of stimulation Ralph never got, his desire painted him so flush and ruby red.

Since you looked so delighted at the sight before you; Pietro gave his cock a few strokes. He played with himself for your viewing pleasure. And as his firm grip tugged his shaft, the world pulled suddenly back. It was as though Pietro viewed life through a third person perspective. Metaphorical cameras fixed their lenses on the two of you, in an all too human position of closeness.

The weight of a cock in Pietro’s hand felt both familiar, yet weirdly foreign. Combine that with the sight of another living, breathing body below him; and his nerves buzzed uncomfortably. Frenzied in such a way that matched the quick pulsing of his heart. Focusing instead on your fluttering eyes, Pietro weaned himself out of dissociation. Your hands braced his hips, thumbs circling the fabric of his tights. The gentle gesture brought chills throughout his body. Inching forward, you teased his bobbing cock with a flick of your tongue.

Wet heat grounded him in reality. Upon racing to the forefront of his own mind; Pietro’s breath hitched with a husky groan. He held your head, massaging his fingers in your soft hair. Cute mewls spilled from your lips as you flitted your eyes shut. Swirling your tongue over his cock’s puffy head, you lapped any tearful pearls of precum. His thickness sank between your plush lips, and Pietro’s own lips parted for breath.

Of all things to happen on Halloween night, getting his dick sucked wasn’t on the docket.

Not that Pietro had any reason to complain. This? Wicked awesome. Ralph was really missing out.

You drew lazily back just to lap his balls over his tights, staining fabric with slick saliva. Rolling the tip of your tongue up the underside of his dick, you giggled in that dorkish way again. Pietro’s teeth pulled his lip as he tilted his head back. His dick twitched, throbbing while the heat of your mouth embraced him fully. He moaned, smiling wide enough to show off his dimples. You pumped his cock at the base, teasing his veins with your tongue.

Pietro’s brows turned inward. You suckled his head like you longed to guzzle anything he could give. He sank his fingers deeper through your hair, holding on tightly as he rutted his hips. With each slam of his weeping tip into your throat; he hoarsely grunted. You really did try your best, just for him. Even as tears spilled down your cheeks and your lips began to swell. Plush and puffy, circling his slick length. Pietro kicked up the speed at which he rutted.

Fighting his instincts, he was cautious enough not to choke you. Or, he wanted to be cautious. He braced his hands on both sides of your tear stained face, his arm warmer paws soft against your cheeks. Sinking his dick even deeper between your lips, he accidentally went balls deep. The wet fabric of his tights smothered your chin. You sputtered on his cock, which made your throat wring him so tight. As your tongue curled, sliding under the thrum of his veins; Pietro cursed. Playful chuckles and shameful apologies fell from his lips.

Bitter heat coated your tongue in sweltering jets, thick and explosive down your throat. Pietro’s groin twisted in a blossoming surge of pleasure. And as he ruptured your esophagus with his sticky load, he found himself that much more grounded. As if such a bombastic nut somehow tethered him to reality - securing Pietro from any further derealization.

Righteous. His first big O since Agnes blessed him with the gift of consciousness. Significantly more electrifying than any sad, jerk sesh Ralph had in the past. And since you so humbly took him like a champ - giving Pietro a most euphoric experience; he saw it fit to return the favor ASAP.

Neither Pietro - nor Ralph, it seemed - had any experience toying around with partners. But he did have a vague knowledge of how to do so. Thanks to the backlog of not-so-safe-for-work memories deep in his subconscious. Raunchy porn, mostly. Magazines. Tapes. Jesus, Ralph…why’s there so much dirty stuff in there, huh? Lots and lots of it. Pietro would have to do his own research later.

He gave you no time to prep for his oncoming nose dive. Perched on your knees, coughing and clearing your throat - you found yourself abruptly resting on your elbows. Your upper back pressed into the futon. Pietro lifted your hips, using his strength to hike your thighs over his broad shoulders. As you parted your swollen lips to protest, blinking your reddened eyes; Pietro pulled your panties to the side. He kept the soaked lace pinned under a thick thumb. Burying his lips in your cunt, he lapped up your honeyed heat.

A sudden addiction, triggered by something carnal, overtook him instantly. Pietro became hooked on your fragrant flavor, swirling your cute bud in high-speed circles. He worked your stiff clit like a microscopic joystick, flicking wet heat in a spastic whirlwind. Alternating between drawing patterns, and sucking your precious pearl hard. Pietro so easily made you squeal - even without any prior experience - until you scratched your fingernails deep into Ralph’s sheets. Kissing your cunt, he let his thirst take over, and dove deeper.

The tune of his name melting through your moans made him wish the night would last forever. A small fraction of him hoped Ralph would never take over again. If consciousness offered rewards this scrumptious, Pietro wanted to stay sentient into eternity. Not to be selfish or whatever, but he almost considered playing minion for Agnes again - if only to secure the lifespan of his psyche.

Your supple, pussy lips parted as he wormed his tongue through your slick walls. Smooth, bumpy heat squeezed the fuzzy ridges of his tongue. In milliseconds, your fluttery love gushed over his taste buds and leaked down his chin. Tears teased the edges of your eyes. You cried whines of sugary bliss. Pietro’s thumb kept your panties pinned, his other hand locked around your thigh.

He smirked into your pussy, deep chuckles burning hot on your mound. And since the position wasn’t exactly the most comfortable; he allowed you some reprieve. Pushing you past your breaking point at light speed, Pietro bashed the sopping slickness of his tongue into your clit. You trembled, shuddering through powerful waves of orgasmic intensity. White-hot flashes of light flooded your vision. Under Pietro’s zippy tongue, your sweet pussy quivered.

Totes mcgoats. If he learned anything tonight - aside from the obvious lessons in subtlety; Pietro now understood why the everyday man lost his doggone marbles over puss.

After your first release, he eased your tired body into the futon. Your back met cozy blankets, engulfed in that skunk weed scent. Before you relaxed, he edged you even longer, drawing out your pleasurable suffering. Pietro sank his fingers deep into your heat, pumping the length of them inside you. His digits curled perfectly, finding every spongy spot that made your core burst with a desire to cum again. His tongue teased your swollen nub until you grabbed at his hair. You mussed the funny looking ear things atop his head, pressing your palm into his forehead to try and push him back.

You begged him to stop. Pleading in disoriented whimpers, your noises went straight to his limp dick. A few more hot, wrathful waves of pleasure later - he finally stopped. Only after your cunt erupted in one more, wet burst. You leaked like a fountain into his lips, soaking his chin, even making a mess of his makeshift costume. More than worth it. Pietro sat up on the futon, admiring his handiwork. He wiped his mouth with one of his arm warmer paws. Your mouth fell agape as your lungs begged for air. More tears sparkled on your flushed cheeks, mirroring the twinkle of your pussy. Pretty as a rose in a rainshower.

With your sluggish arms, you gestured for Pietro to climb over you. And once he did, you pulled him into a lazy kiss without a single care. You paid no mind to the taste of your sweetness on his lips, or the scent of your musk on his chin. Sleepily blinking, you bravely asked if you could stay the night. Too tuckered out to even consider a long walk back home.

Pietro could just as easily speed you over to your place. But even at the risk of his not-wife catching him in bed with someone else - he felt too adverse to loneliness. Besides...your company brought him more delight than he ever expected of anyone. Settling into the futon, he popped on Ralph’s old TV set.

Cheers was on. Pietro snickered to himself, rolling his dark eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, snuggled up against Pietro’s strong form. He’d changed clothes at some point in the night, finally foregoing the tights. Oh, and he lended you one of Ralph’s shirts too. A Grateful Dead t-shirt, of which you were very grateful. Hah, “You don’t like Cheers?”

Pietro shrugged, sipping a beer. A Busch beer. He scowled at the taste, curling his lip.

“Eh. More of a Frasier kinda guy.”

#peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x you #peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #wandavision #txt #sorry for dropping this in the main tags !!

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