#you see the moment when she goes 'wait a minute--'

[wesstars]

crush

cairo sweet x fem!reader (no pronouns used)

summary: when cairo goes home, what comes to mind are thoughts of you. wc: 2.3k tags: explicit, minors DNI!! all characters 18+. university au. masturbation, smoking, non-linear narrative. reader is cairo’s teaching assistant, reader described as masc presenting. a/n: let me know what y’all think :) for the vibes

masterlist

“Is Professor Miller not coming?” Winnie had just dropped into her unassigned assigned seat next to Cairo, two minutes before Greco-Roman Literary Theory started. The flipping of pages punctuated the chatter of other students waiting, a comfortable sound. “He said he’d be gone today,” Cairo replied absently. “There’s a ‘guest lecturer,’ our teaching assistant.”

“Oh, right. Who’s that?”Cairo shrugged. “Who knows.” 

As if on cue, the door swung open. Cairo didn’t even look up—Miller mentioned that he kept a handful of research assistants that would be there to help with the advanced reading. But honestly, Cairo wasn’t sure what they could tell her that she didn’t already know. A melodic hum fell through the air for just a moment, a chorus. 

“Good morning.” At your lilting voice, rough with the edge of 10am, Cairo started. She watched you set your messenger bag on the desk. Your white shirt pulled over your shoulders; there was a glint at your collar, a necklace peeking through. A thin watch adorned your wrist. Winnie, along with some of the class, echoed your greeting, and Cairo blinked.

Late spring afternoon draped across the furniture in Cairo’s room, the quickly waning light giving easy way to a blue hour. Dropping her bag at the door, she tore off her shirt and skirt with the confidence of one standing before a crowd. Running a hand up from her sternum to her neck, she stretched languidly, sinking down onto her bed. After so many uneventful days—when she applied to Yale, she didn’t think that there would be any uneventful days—she finally had a story to turn over in her mind. 

You. You were a mystery. Even as you had started the class with an introduction, telling Cairo you’d graduated from a middle-of-nowhere college in California and sought a writing career in Vermont before delving into research, she longed to lay out the details and pull them out from under the rug. Where did you learn to teach? Did you like to drive, or be driven? Mountains, or the sea? Where did you grow up? Was there coffee or tea in your cupboard? Cairo’s stomach burned to know. Her dark eyes burned the ceiling with smoke signals, searching for you even though you were god knows where in that seaside state.

Arching her back, Cairo let her hand travel down, palm flat against her stomach, to trace the seam of her upper thigh. As the class had progressed, your keenly observant nature did not elude Cairo. Maybe listening was something that your pedagogy instilled in you, but the way you held each student’s question in the cant of your head, an answer in your crinkling eyes, listening seemed to be in your nature. It was meticulous, the way you picked apart the class text, weaving in references and tying it all in. In that two hour lecture, Cairo learned that you watched the same way you listened. 

Balmy as it was, the humidity made her dark waves cling to her skin, and she shivered as she brushed them back, thinking of a different pair of slim hands. Your scrutiny of each student had an intention that she couldn’t quite place; a determination that thrilled her. Cairo imagined that you’d observe her the same way, that she would be the one you were most fond of. It was only natural that her own attention would draw yours onto her. Holding the weight of your envisioned gaze made Cairo’s core twist, a pleased little flush that she prayed you could see. Your affected impartiality didn’t bother Cairo—in fact, it pulled her into your shadow. In her bed, she rolled onto her stomach then her knees, shaking her hair out. 

Her hands were steady as she reached for her bedside table, thumb rolling on the wheel of her zippo as she held the cigarette to her lips. Cairo took a drag, blowing out neat smoke rings as she settled back on her heels. The skin of her own fingers was cool against her lips, and when she took the smoke away, she studied the pattern of her lipstick on the white paper as she had so many times before.

She’d watched, unabashedly and unafraid of being caught, as you drummed your fingers on the chalk tray. Would your fingertip be soft or work hardened if it pressed down her tongue? Would your skin carry the stain of her red lip as deeply, as obediently, as the malleable wrapping paper?

“Alright, class,” you cleared your throat, turning slowly around the room to make eye contact with each student. “As you know, Jonathan’s away on a conference today. I’ll start with a bit of role, just so I can learn your names. Not many of you come to my office hours, I know.” You smiled easily. It was so guileless, Cairo mused, nearly childlike. You had the class go around the rooms with names and majors, a circuit that Cairo gave no attention to other than your lilting rhythm of hums, the tapping of your foot on the floor, the way you flicked the corner of the role sheet with your thumb. Your gaze was soon on hers, waiting expectantly. She looked right back with a blink.

“Cairo Sweet. English major.”

“Cairo.” Her name rolled off your innocent little grin, making her cock her head. “Wonderful.” Fascinating. Would you whisper midnight black desires in her ear, so deep and dark they might be murmured into the ink of your own empty room?

You continued, circling back to the front and easily transitioning to the lesson plan. You had an awfully effortless way of grasping the class’ attention, holding gently and never forcing. It wasn’t like Professor Miller, who always seemed to hasten through the lecture so he could return to his research. She could tell you liked the woods of the text, to fall down into the depths of each word, feeling its weight in you and letting it rock. Just like Cairo. 

She sighed into the warm air prickling up her skin, the curl of your voice around her name making her nipples harden in her bralette, even in retrospect. Exhaling around her cigarette, Cairo brought her hands up to palm her breasts, feeling the drag of her rubied nubs on her palms. Was it the high of the nicotine, the blur of smoke ridden air that made her float straight up into the lofty space you’d created in her mind? Though the feel of her own fingers scraping the lace against her skin was familiar, she found herself keen to think of your soft or callused hands. She was wet already, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten wet so fast.

The weight she imagined of your touch on her flushed skin was completely, deliciously foreign. Unbidden but intimately welcome, Cairo wished that your caress would find the map of her chest as familiar as a classic, something you had searched a million times over yet always managed to find something new. Shamelessly, Cairo trailed her fingers down her stomach, nails catching on every rib as she arched her back in the spilled moonlight. The mystery in the crossing of your long legs as you’d leaned back on the desk climbed up her belly, curling in the thump, thump, thump, of her heart. The uneven roll of your sleeves clung to the corners of her eyes, eidetic and oh, so, tempting. She had watched you so ardently—did you like to watch? Would you watch? 

The space between her thighs was achingly empty, craving the set of your narrow hips. She was comfortable there, and she remembered the taut stretch of wool as you dropped into your chair and set one ankle over your knee. There was something endearing about the way your trousers had pulled up to reveal slouchy black socks, and darker her mind went as the material pulling creases around your lap made her shudder and—she reached behind to pull one of her fluffy pillows under her, smoke billowing into the air. 

Cairo gave her hips an experimental roll, imagining it was the soft fabric of your slacks against her aching cunt, and grinned around her cigarette. Unlike the pillow, you would be ever so solid under her, grabbing for her thighs like a dog yearns to please. Were you more likely to bruise her skin, yanking her into you without care for blood—or would you guide her gently, make a home in her innocence and hold her more dearly than life ever could? Either way, your desire for Cairo would be so apparent that you couldn’t help yourself.

The dip of your tongue in her navel, the little smirk you’d undoubtedly wear as you went down further—would you go for her throbbing clit first, or would your lips press so warm—she didn’t know. She didn’t have to, content with all those different versions of you unfurling before her. In her bedroom, each time she moved her hips, it became easier to imagine you guiding her actions, the bump of your nose on her folds, damned if not addicting.

Cairo grinned as she fell onto her forearms, hips pushing into the soft pillow without abandon. The slide of her panties soaked with slick against her sensitive clit felt like the delicate press of your splayed hand on her desk as you’d passed, eyes occupied by the text you were holding. It had only been a split second, but it was enough for her to memorize every crease, every vein. Cairo let out a whine, a demanding little sound, as her movements grew erratic. Looking up into the heaven where you must be, she imagined that you’d murmur to her, “I’m here, I’m here, how could I be anywhere else but here?” as you traced the dip in her back. Her arousal took her down every sullied path she’d ever dreamed of, but her mind stuck on one gesture that made her mouth go dry. 

She remembered the way your shirt got just a bit untucked when you stretched during the class break. You’d instinctively tucked it back in, quick as you surveyed the class. Cairo thought that you’d dress yourself back up the same way after you bent her over the desk after class, pushing her skirt up and shoving your fingers into her, painting bruises onto her hip bones with how tight you held her.

The two of you would share a mutual understanding that she wanted this, wanted it bad enough for you to take it whenever you saw fit. Cairo decided that today, this time, you’d be as rough as you pleased, a cup of pens clattering to the ground as you pushed her down, forearm across her shoulder blades. Your necklace would be cold on her warm skin, would it be cold on her tongue? You’d put two, three fingers inside, humming in that absentminded way you did. She thought you’d nuzzle into her ear, all lips and sharp teeth, asking if she’d sprayed your favorite hair mist of hers because she hoped you’d notice—she did—and take her, break her, whatever you wanted. 

You’d send her plummeting down towards a deeper hell (or was it higher, up to your majestic heaven?), already knowing everything that her body needed. Cairo imagined herself coming so helplessly around the stretch of your fingers, so high strung from nights of trying to mimic the press of your touch on her clit, unable to reach the same heights you sent her to. As she held back tears, eyes on the ceiling in reverence, feeling herself drip to the floor, you’d sigh as your mind wandered to other things already, carelessly running a hand down her back. 

Cairo gasped, dropping her nearly finished cigarette in favor of gripping the bed sheets. The white fabric wrinkled around her fingers, reminiscent of your shirt creasing as you’d rolled your sleeves up. This was something new you could show her, just how fast she could come and just how wet it made her. It was a marvel, feeling the fabric cling to her cunt, almost as good as how you’d feel. Resting her forehead in the crook of her elbow, she murmured your name over and over again, a little susurrus of a litany, so similar to your preoccupied hum. Panting, Cairo giggled in her bliss, soft and bright as Californian oranges clinging to rich leaves. You were dark enough to be tucked into the wrinkles in the soft pillow, dark enough for Cairo to love, as a journal loves a secret.

Sated, Cairo grabbed her phone and typed your name in. The results spilled out, and she scrolled, looking for all of the details in the background of your social media posts, curiously drunk on the year’s gap in your CV. Cairo noticed the perfect little circle where the cigarette had burned when she dropped it, and she brushed away the remnants. The gesture smeared the ash on the sheets.

—

Walking into your office with barely a knock, Cairo took in the familiar room of an academic, but with your unfamiliar knick knacks around the place. A lighter, a leather wallet, glasses and wired headphones. You didn’t look surprised as you glanced up from your laptop. Instead, you smiled. 

“Cairo, isn’t it?” 

A flush of pleasure shot straight into her—you remembered. She nodded. Your shelves were covered in books and stacks of reviews, the morning’s leftover cup of coffee sitting on one of the ledges. Did you smoke before, or after your coffee? The terrible, terrible want to replace the taste of smoke on your tongue with the taste of her gave Cairo just the confidence she needed. 

“What can I do for you?”

Cairo leaned over your desk, watching the way your eyes dropped to her burgundy lipstick. “Would you be able to help me on the Aristophanes reading?” She pushed her copy of The Clouds towards you. “I can’t seem to grasp it.” Your eyes met hers. “Of course.”

--

a/n cont'd: can you read my mind, i’ve been watching you… there’s just something about you, baby… ♪ / hope you enjoyed @woewriting :)

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

#project wes #cairo sweet #jenna ortega #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet x female reader #cairo sweet x y/n #cairo sweet x you #cairo sweet x fem!reader #cairo sweet fanfiction #reader #reader insert #lgbtq #cairo sweet x reader smut #smut #self insert #jenna ortega x reader #cairo sweet x gender neutral reader #cairo sweet x gn reader #miller's girl #jenna ortega x reader smut #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x gender neutral reader #lesbian #wlw

[octoberautumnbox]

Yuri is lucky that she could go to Hyewon's place whenever she needs to washup lol. Can't imagine Yuri's face when she discovered the roach in her bathroom 🤣🙈

What if Yuri goes over to Hyewon's place...

And Hyewon still insists on giving you head when Yuri is only a short distance away in the shower 😳

"Hyewon... Ah...Now's not the best time, Yuri will hear us! She could be coming out anytime soon!"

"So what? Who said the bathroom is the only thing I'm sharing with Yuri today 😉"

Yuri's look of hunger when she sees the moment you're cumming uncontrollably inside Hyewon's throat. Your eyes watery and Hyewon has her whole face pressed against your crotch while your body spasms from the stimulation 🙊

Even though I'm gonna embarrass myself horribly, I don't think I could turn down Hyewon's offer 🤤

a/n: thanks for the ask frisky! to this day it's still wild to me how they did a post-bath/shower scene in Yuri's photobook but im literally the last one on this planet to complain 😋

~~~

"Aish, you two," Yuri says while running her fingers through her hair. "You couldn't wait for me?" She takes a seat next to you and leans her head on your shoulder, staring lazily at your cock.

"You were taking forever. He was getting bored." Hyewon licks her lips as she says it, savoring the taste of your cum. She makes a show of it by dragging her tongue all along her plump lips, and the blatant attempt to try and get you hard again is regrettably working.

Your reply comes in the midst of ragged breaths: "Don't... pin this all on me. I wanted to... wait for everyone to... be ready."

The older girl takes your hand and starts sucking your index finger, giving it the same love she gave your cock just moments ago. The younger, on the other hand, giggles at her valiant efforts to get you going again and decides to help her out.

Yuri takes your other hand and places it over her breasts, only a thin fabric in between her chest and your fingertips. Even then, you can feel her soft and perky tits through her top, and the playful pinches you deliver on her nipples cause them to stiffen in pleasure. You watch as they start to poke against the fabric, and she catches you ogling her. With a smirk, she let's out a cute moan to signal her pleasure.

Hyewon, not wanting to be one-upped, takes her place on your other side. She pulls her top off, revealing in tantalizing slowness of the skin of her tummy and chest. Once it's all off, she takes the same position as Yuri and makes you cup her boobs too. Her nipples stiffen in the same way, and her moans at how you play with her body spur all three of you on.

With a knowing look shot at each other, the girls decide wordlessly on a two-pronged attack. Hyewon's delicate fingers wrap around your cock and give long, slow strokes, while she goes in and takes your lips with hers. At the same time, Yuri leans down and starts licking and kissing the tip of your dick, making sure to leave her spit and help her unnie out.

Your tongue and Hyewon's swirl around each other, forcing more moans out of her, while Yuri's soft lips place kisses on your head and shaft wherever she can reach. She takes your cock in her mouth as best she can, trying her hardest to share with her unnie's hand instead of taking you all the way to the back of her throat for herself.

You wonder for a moment how you got two of the most beautiful idols on the planet this needy for you. How on earth did you get to the point where they're so willing to share you between themselves, allowing you to grope their bodies and suck your cock as if they were your own property to do what you please with?

But that doesn't matter now. You find both Hyewon and Yuri with two of their own fingers inside their cunts, rubbing their walls at the pace you set as you play with their boobs. Hyewon grows careless with her kiss, growing sloppier by the minute, not caring how much of your shared saliva falls out of your mouths. Yuri's moans deliver just the right vibrations to your cock growing needier with each lick of your slit. She frantically tries even harder to take more of you into her mouth, her common sense slipping away from her.

You try to warn Yuri that you're close, but Hyewon never lets up. Each time you try and pull away, all she does is pull you back and make you squeeze her soft tits harder. You do the same with Yuri, pinching her nipples harder and groping her more roughly, and it drives her wild. You're not sure if it delivers the message you wanted it to, but you slowly forget as your orgasm arrives.

Hyewon feels the way your cock throbs and immediately lets go, only to force Yuri down onto your crotch. Yuri welcomes it and takes you all the way, licking your shaft as much as she can, savoring your taste and the hard work she put into this load she's about to take. You don't disappoint, and suddenly her mouth is flooded with your thick and warm cum. She tries taking all of it in, but inevitably she lets a few drops fall out with the sheer amount of it. Still, her tongue works overtime to extract every single drop you can give her, and each thrust into her mouth-pussy sends away another thought in her head to be replaced her desire for you and you alone.

Two orgasms so far into the night, and they haven't even started getting serious. You start to get nervous, but they reassure you that everything from here on out is all just mindless fun.

"Don't worry, oppa," Yuri sighs dreamily, obviously still in the ecstasy of getting her face fucked, "we're gonna have so much fun."

"Yeah, just relax and fuck us like you always wanted to." Hyewon punctuates each word with a kiss on your neck. "I promise we'll play nice, unless you want us not to."

~~~

a/n: holy shit wait a minute is this my first threesome fic??

#girl group smut #kpop smut #izone smut #jo yuri smut #kang hyewon smut

[jediskywalkerblog]

I think the Briar series of her being obsessed with reader would be cute! Like a cute step mom fic ❤️

Thanks for your request anon, can’t wait to write this one!🥹🫶🏼

You meet his daughter - Hayden Christiensen

You're lay on the sofa cuddling with Hayden, watching your favourite movie on the TV when his phone goes. It's one of your lazy Sundays...

"Sorry baby" he says as he pauses the tv to answer the phone.

"It's ok Hay" you say as you snuggle under the blanket and into his chest a little more.

"Hey Rachel" You never know what's going to be said when his ex wife calls out of the blue. Maybe about money?

"I know its not your day, but could you possibly have Briar for the day?" you hear Rachel say down the phone... You've never met Haydens daughter but you've always wanted to, ever since you met him one whole year ago.

Hay looks down at you looking for your confirmation, you shake your head as you eyes light up. You finally get to meet Briar.

"I'll pick her up in an hour" Hay says before hanging up the phone. Before he can even say anything you jump up off the sofa in excitement. You get to meet mini Hay!

"Hay, I'm so excited, I can't wait to meet her" you say making him smile up at you before he gets up off the sofa and pulls you in for a deep, passionate kiss.

"I'm glad baby, we need to get ready... we have an hour." he says as he leads you into the bedroom to get changed out of your cozy pjs into something casual.

"what are we going to do with her?" you ask as you rummage through your wardrobe wondering what to wear.

"Was thinking the beach or the park, she loves them" Hay says as he slips a tee and some joggers on... you love seeing him like this, all casual and comfy.

"I guess I'll go with a dress then" you say making hay smile as he sits down on the bed and watches you with his prying eyes.

"you look beautiful, Briar will love you" Hay says as he pulls you in for a kiss... "we've got to go baby" He says before slipping a cap on, covering up his curls. You decide to slip your sandals on that go with your dress.

...

When the two of you pull up at Rachel's house you can't help but feel nervous. You're about to meet Haydens child... Hay picks up on your nerves and pulls you in for a hug.

"She's going to love you baby" He says before pulling you in for a kiss. "I'll be back in a second" Hay says as he gets out of the car, all you can do is sit there and wait.

About 2 minutes pass then you're looking out of the car window at Hayden walking towards the car with a beautiful little girl in his arms. She's wearing a little white hat and some sunglasses, she's the cutest.

As Hay is strapping her into her car seat he introduces you to her. "Briar, this is (Y/N), she's very special to daddy" He says as you turn around to wave at her.

"Hey Briar!" you say as you smile at her.

"Hey (Y/N)" she says as she waves her little hands at you. Hayden looks up and smiles at you before closing Briars door and getting into the drivers seat.

"beach daddy?" Briar asks, making the two of you smile.

"I told you she'd want go to the beach." Hay says as you laugh.

"Yes baby, were going to the beach with (Y/N)" He says as he grabs onto out hand.

"Can we build sandcastles with (Y/N)?" your heart is so full at this moment.

"I'd love to build them with you" you say making her face light up.

...

When you pull up to the car park Briar can barely stay in her seat, she's so excited. "Here we are baby" Hay says as he gets out of the car to get Briar out of her seat.

"Daddy! The beach!" Briar says as she jumps up and down whilst Hay gets the buckets and spades out of the boot. "come on (Y/N)" Briar says as she grabs onto your hand. You turn around to see Hayden smiling at the two of you as he follows you.

"It seems I've been replaced" Hay says as he sits down onto the sand with you whilst you help briar makes mini sandcastles.

"Sorry Hay" you say before kissing him on the lips.

"Its your turn (Y/N)" Briar says as she hands you the little bucket and spade with her little hands.

"My castle won't be as good as your Briar" you say as you fill the bucket up with sand...

The rest of the day is spent with a whole lot of sandcastles, sandy toes, ice creams, cuddles and kisses. You wouldn't want it any other way.

Hope you guys liked this one, I loved writing it🥹💕

- @jediskywalkerblog 🚀✨🛸

#anakin x reader #hayden christensen #star wars anakin #starwarsedit #star wars blog #starwars imagine #anakin fanfiction #anakin gif #anakin imagine #anakin x you #haydenchristiensenimagines #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen x reader #haydenchristensenedit #hchristensenedit #hayden christensen fanfiction

[lil-darhk]

"Do You Want to Dance too?"

[Bucky Barnes x reader]

Summary: After a very rare date with your boyfriend, it starts to rain and you two find yourselves stuck in a cafe with no way to get home without being soaked wet.

Warnings: fluff

(A/n: First attempt at a fanfic. I thought about this when I was trying to sleep and I really wanted to write it down.)

I curse under my breath as James and I quickly run to the small cafe at the end of the empty street. The rain started just a few moments ago so it wasn't bad now but I had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

We finally making it through the door, only slightly wet.

" Nice end to the day," he mumbles, clearly not happy.

I sigh and take a seat at my usual table when Ella, a good friend of mine, pops up behind the counter.

"Well this is a surprise," the barista says, "Thought I was finally going to be able to go through the whole day without you showing up."

"Ha ha," I muse, "Get us some hot chocolate."

She rolls her eyes but goes to make the order nonetheless.

James takes a seat next to me, glaring out the window as if that would stop the rain. The rain didn't take kindly to that as it starts a downpour, confirming my earlier suspicion.

He grumbles and I take his hand in mine.

"Tonight was nice," I say gently.

"It could've been better."

I shake my head, " You can't control the weather, love."

But I could understand his frustration. We rarely got to spend much time together as it was.

We usually only see each other at night but by then are too exhausted to do anything other than eat and sleep.

James and I had started dating a few months but we had known each other for years before then. I used to be an Avenger but I quit after Steve left. First it had been out of grief from my best friends, then it changed to me not wanting that kind of life anymore.

James was still very much in it, he was a soldier first after all, and, as long as he didn't get himself killed, I was okay with that.

I unconsciously traced a small scar on his palm as Ella brings us the hot cocoas.

"Okay, here's the deal," she starts, "I have to close up in 45 minutes. You guys can stay to try to wait the rain out."

"Do you at least have an umbrella we can borrow?," I ask.

"Nope. I even gave mine to an old lady."

"And you can't let us stay?"

"Nada."

It was my turn to grumble, "Fine."

Ella shrugs, "I need to clean up," she says before making her leave.

James was still glaring out of the window when he suddenly turned his stare on me.

"This is why we should've taken the car," he concluded.

I was taken aback, "So it's my fault for suggesting that we walk for 20 minutes to the restaurant?"

"Guess so."

I scoff, "You are on very thin ice here, Barnes."

He raises an eyebrow, "Are you threatening me?"

"Guess so," I mimic.

"What are you going to do?" he asks, amused.

"Do you want to sleep on the couch?"

He scoffs at my threat but doesn't say anything else.

Smart man.

We sip our hot cocoas in silence.

Then, suddenly, I'm laughing. James looks at me with an amused grin.

"I can make you sleep on the couch," I say, still giggling.

I poke his chest and he starts laughing too.

"I know you can, dear. I know you can."

He grabbed my chin with his right hand, tilting my head so I looked him directly in the eye.

"What would I do without you?" He wonders out loud.

"It's too awful to think about," I joke.

He laughs again before pressing his lips against mine.

I sigh in the kiss. It's difficult to think I was once distrusting of the super soldier I had grown to love. Now I trusted him with everything I had and more.

It took a long time for me to see the ex-Winter Soldier's true nature. His gentle, shy yet annoyingly protective nature

Too long.

He broke off the kiss with a small smile.

"We should finish the hot cocoa before it gets cold," James suggests.

"Hot cocoa is more important than kissing your girlfriend?" I pout.

He shrugs, "It's good hot chocolate."

I don't deny his statement.

It's my turn to look out of the window. As rain banged on the roof and glass of the small cafe, it seems to play out a rather aggressive tune. I don't like when it rains. It brings back rather painful memories, but I've learned that countering the bad memories with good ones helps make peace with the pain caused in a moment.

That gives me an idea.

"Do you want to sprint for it now?" I ask randomly.

The super soldier nearly spits out his cocoa, "What?"

"It's probably only gonna get worst and we are going to have to eventually."

"Do you want to dance too?" he said sarcastically.

My eyes lit up at the idea, "Can we?"

James' eyes widened, "I meant it as a joke."

"But why not? It's as cliche as dancing in the apartment," I point out, "Besides it'll be fun."

He shook his head, "We are not dancing in the rain."

"But-"

"It's way too cold and the last time you got sick, you couldn't get out of bed for a week."

I try to hide my wince by pouting, "Fine. No dancing."

He sighs, "But maybe we should go soon, It does look like it's going to get worst."

"So let's go then."

"Wait up!"

James' voice was nearly lost in the rain. I kept running, knowing full well he could catch up with me within a minute.

Or maybe he couldn't. I was pretty fast.

I laughed into the wind, my mouth filling with water as the painfully large raindrops hit my face.

I sprint in the direction I think is my house and, try to calm the leather jacket that James gave me by wrapping it around my torso.

While doing so, I accidentally stumble on my feet and go flying forward.

Strong arms wrap around me within a moment, one made out of a now freezing metal.

"I got you," Bucky assures, "I got you."

I hear him loud and clear now despite his voice barely being above a whisper. The drumming of rain seemed like an irrelevant background noise.

I turn to him, grinning like an idiot. His hair was stuck to his face. He shakes his head at me but was unable to hide his own smile.

No words needed to be exchanged in the moment as his hands rested on my waist and my arms looped around his neck.

I look at James with possibly all the love I held and softly press my lips against his. It was easy to forget everything with him, even easier to forget the bad things.

He put his arm on my neck and pulls away. " You're going to get sick."

"I've accepted it," I confess quickly, chasing his lips.

He shakes his head again but lets me kiss him regardless.

~~~

I got sick for a week afterward but it was well worth it. Especially when I had James looking after me.

#bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #first fanfic #Marvel #Marvel fanfic #mcu #marvel #marvel mcu #the avengers #<3

[heycasper22]

Acotar long theory - Rhysand & Gwynriel.

Spoilers all SJM books

Rhys Knows about about the mating bond between Gwyn and Azriel.

This is a theory that I can really get behind anyway and here's why. 

Staring out with SJM retconning the events surrounding the raid on the temple in Sangravah. In ACOMAF Rhys states he had to wait for confirmation from Azriel that Sangravah had been raided, Mor also appears to be shocked by this news so we can take for granted that Azriel was either there or obtained the info to pass on to Rhys.

In ACOSF however SJM changed this to Azriel definitely being there, first and slaughtering all the Hybern soldiers, then Mor a few minutes later and then Rhys arriving in person. 

This is actually the part of the recton that I find the most interesting. That Rhys himself turned up. Sarah could have retconned it so Azriel then Mor and Cassian winnowing in together with less tampering with what she originally said. Rhys often delagates tasks/missions to others.

Having Rhys present leads me to believe that there would be some purpose in his being there, Mor I think could be accounted for as a female presence to help the priestesses. Gwyn even specifies what the characters do, Azriel kills, Mor heals but not what Rhys did. 

So what purpose could Rhys have had in that scene?

Was he put there just so that he was already introduced to Gwyn and could snipe at Nesta when he sees them together in the training ring? He already knows why all the Priestess are at the HoW library, he could have sniped at Nesta wether or not he knew her personally or not. 

For this I'd like to look at some examples of Rhys talking about his own power, the particular way he describes what he was doing with his power while UTM

"I made a web between all of them, actively controlling their minds every second of every day, every decade, to forget about Velaris, to forget about Mor, and Amren, and Cassian, and Azriel." - ACOMAF

"anyone flying or traveling near Velaris would see nothing but barren rock, and if they tried to walk through it, they’d find themselves suddenly deciding otherwise." - ACOMAF

“Amarantha didn’t know they existed. And when someone tried to tell her, they usually found themselves without the mind to do so.” - ACOMAF

We know that it is in Rhys' wheelhouse to make people forget and importantly to make people switch tack when their mind strays towards a subject he wishes to remain a secret. Imagine you wish to tell someone something but suddenly all it slips away and now you're just wondering if you left your oven on. 

So if you will, go on this journey with me, and we say for instance, a mating bond snapped into place for Azriel and Gwyn upon their first meeting, how truly, truly terrified might she have been in that moment. After everything she'd just been through.  

Gwyn says that Azriel "slaughtered them all" 

Could his rage have been something to behold even for Rhys to know what it was? As Ruhn can tell when Hunt goes into a Mates rage in HOSAB?

Could Rhysand have snatched Azriel's mind in that moment, and made him forget? Just tied a little knot in his mind and held onto it all this time?

I suppose a good question is would Rhysand do that, because we know that he could. 

In ACOWAR there's a scene that's brought up frequently in regards to ships and has been gone over quite thoroughly but I'd like to go over some bits and pieces that interest me for this theory however.

The conversation Rhys and Feyre have before leaving for the Hewn City chapter 24.

Feyre feels guilty for entering Lucien's mind without consent, albeit she did this because of her deep concern for Elain. 

'Would you have done it? '

'Rhys considered. Yes. And I would have felt just as guilty afterward.'

Rhys confirms he would go into a friend's mind, and that he would feel guilty for doing so.

He then goes onto assuage Feyre's guilt, determining that she had a good reason to do what she did.  A 'for the greater good' sort of reasoning. 

We see this reasoning resurface in Rhysand in ACOSF where he makes a poor choice in hiding the real risk of Feyre's pregnancy to her. He didnt wish to upset her, and wanted a solution to hand before he informed her. This isn't necessarily about the really poor choice he made more that he believed he had sufficient reasoning. 

To go back to ACOWAR ch24:

Feyre asks if Rhys thinks Lucien and Elain are well suited, he doesn't really give and answer except to say that Lucien is loyal and fiercely so, and then we get this interesting choice of words:

“So is Azriel.”

“Azriel,” Rhys said, “has been preoccupied with the same female for the past five hundred years.”

Not in love with Mor, but preoccupied, distracted by. 

Then immediately afterwards Rhys, who never really tells Feyre what to do, basically asks her not to get involved in Azriel and Mor's business. As though he really takes no issue with his brother being 'preoccupied' with Mor. 

Rhys also does not offer any comment about Feyre's thoughts on Azriel and Elain as a couple. 

As for Azriel's ACOSF bonus chapter, a lot of people where mad at Rhys, either for him interrupting an Elain/Az kiss and meddling in their business or just for the simple fact he seemed to be 'throwing his weight around' a little bit. 

Rhys' surface level explanation of this as a Ruler makes sense, but let's look at a potential different angle. 

"What if the Cauldron was wrong?"

Rhysand blinked. "What of Mor, Az?"

Azriel questions the Cauldron and the first thing Rhys does is to bring up someone he knows Az is preoccupied with, a 500 year distraction to keep him chasing his tail. 

"The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another"

Rhys' face drained of color. 

Rhysand does not pale easily. From my checking, that descriptor for him seems to be reserved for if something really upsets him or freaks him out (like Feyre talking about her death)

So for him to drain of colour, that sentence has to have really really bothered him, guilt perhaps at something he has done? 

We know a mate bond can never truly be broken or go away, but for the males it can "drive them mad" 

Could this be concern over Azriel's mental state not just because of the rash decision to kiss Elain where anyone including Lucien could see, but for what Rhys thinks might happen to a mated male when he does not remember that he is mated or who to?

"You believe you deserve to be her mate?"

This could be Rhys looking for that reasoning, has he done the right thing or made a huge mistake. 

"Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her." 

This seems pretty extreme, unless however you alone understand how truly messy things could become, aside from all the explanation he gives about Lucien, including the blood duel (Which is odd for Rhys to mention as he knows Lucien is Helion's son) 

Gwyn is Nesta's friend. Azriel is already physically spending time in Gwyn's presence, perhaps Rhysand is hoping he'll be able let go soon. How mad you might be at your brother being so close to everything he ever wanted and him fucking it up, even if it you had a part to play in it. You would put your foot down. Hard. 

"So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her."

Where is the: 'Hey brother I know how you must be feeling but dont worry, there must be a special someone out there who loves and deserves you, get out there and look!' ?

The options he confronts Azriel with are, hey what about the girl we all know you're never going to get with or failing that, pay for a sex worker? Seems like Rhys might actually be limiting Azriel to people he believes he won't form an serious relationship with doesn't it?

"Snarl all you want."

"But if I see you panting after her again, I'll make you regret it."

This actually stuns Azriel out of being angry, Rhys doesn't do this sort of thing normally. 

So if you add this up with Rhys saying Elain would have the full support of the Night Court should she wish to reject her mating bond, why would Azriel have to stay away from Elain forever? If that's what she wanted and he wanted. 

Something so out of character for Rhys it shocks Azriel, just to set up a forbidden love trope? 

As mentioned some were pissed at Rhys for all this.

But SJM likes to do this to us, she likes for us to BE ANGRY at characters, and then give us an explanation that breaks our heart or at the least helps us understand later down the line. (If I factor in my long Elain theory we might even be thanking him for interrupting!)

Because Rhys would have done this for Gwyn, not for Az, but to protect her, to try and offer her some peace while she heals.

If this theory where true, I'd like to imagine that he had a conversation with her and let her know that full stop that Az wouldn't try and pursue her unless she was ready wether that be 2 years, a decade or never. 

But again what we have seen is Rhys being down right horrible sometimes, if he believes it's for the greater good, then we usually get the actual explanation for it later. 

Further on in the BC Azriel obviously interacts with Gwyn. 

"For a heartbeat their gazes met. He blocked out the bloody memory that flashed, so at odds with the Gwyn he saw before him now" 

Did he block it out? 

Or did he just get too close to remembering everything.

Did Rhys yank on that leash?

"I just. . . I know you like to be alone." 

Gwyn most definitely could have perceived that about Azriel, but in theory she also could have asked someone who knows him to tell her about him. 

'Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow. something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch.

But--- sleep. He needed to at least attempt to get some.'

'He wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend, but...'

These buts... These sort of... interrupted thoughts, paired with sense that Azriel isn't entirely sure why he's doing some things. It does give the sense of other forces at play.

I know some people like to go in for the Gwyn is lightsinger theory, personally I don't (I address this in my long Elain theory) Especially with the points at where these thoughts are cut off. 

I know some also like the 'fake bond' theory like Aelin/Rowan/Lyria. Maeve of course having similar powers to Rhys, I'd find it much more likely however that Rhys would use his power to 'hide' a bond for good, than to fake one, for evil. Or even to fake one full stop. 

Mating bonds are powerful things though as we see in ToG even with an altered mind Rowan is still attracted to and still falls in love with his actual Mate.

Does Rhys really have the power totally control everything about Azriel's bond to Gwyn now that he's actually interacting with her? Perhaps they'll fall in love before Gwyn and Rhys fess up to having known all along.

One would think though that Rhys trying to keep a hold on such a powerful and primal force might affect Azriel though...you would expect to see something more than interrupted thoughts, something more physical like oh, I don't know...

Headaches? 😉

Again this is just a theory, theories are fun and we all like to rummage through the text and try and figure stuff out through this long wait. I can't believe it ended up being this long even though I really tired to stick to the topic at hand! Plausible or not plausible? If you got this far, thanks

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #acotar theory #anti elriel #anti e/riel

[transmasc-rose]

I like Rose, and I think they should have done more with the Bad Wolf event. So here's a small list of related AUs that have been rattling around in my head.

Feel free to use them for whatever, I'd love to see if you write something tho!

Becoming Bad Wolf, absorbing the Time Vortex and using its powers effects Rose beyond that one moment. Merely absorbing it long enough to expel the power was enough to cause Nine to regenerate, and Rose used its power for an extended period. Time travelling on its own is enough to change the body, the cells, the aging process. Being around enough Time Lords effects the aging process. So when you absorb the vortex into yourself, become it for an extended moment, make someone else immortal in a way no one else is, who's to say it doesn't effect you too? And when you leave with Tentoo, the human Doctor, the mortal Doctor, and you think--we're going to live together, we're going to die together. And the original Doctor thinks--this is for the best. I won't get more attached, I will lose her on my terms, they'll live what I can't have. But the Doctor ages. And Rose doesn't, whether she can regenerate, or lives in a single timeless body. Not like Jack, she can die, but her Doctor dies first. The Doctor lives the life of the Companion, and Rose lives the tragedy of the Doctor. There's no evidence of Time Lords in Pete's World. Rose and Tentoo have a child in the comics. Does her child die before her too, or does she inherit her "gift"? Does she find her way back home? Is she angry? Is she scared? Is she alone?

Or maybe she's still immortal, but she doesn't leave--either she makes it out of Doomsday in her home dimension, or she refuses to make a choice in Journey's End and insists the original Doctor keep her and Tentoo. What matters is, she's there when Ten regenerates into Eleven. She's there when the TARDIS malfunctions, and decides to crash. And through some happenstance, whether separation while the TARDIS was crashing, splitting up for one reason or another, Prisoner Zero plot devices, or simply breaking the age old rule of "don't wander off", they get separated. And the Doctor leaves for "five minutes". Rose returns to the TARDIS, or thinks she's found the TARDIS, and its not there. At best she sees it leave, or it leaves some signature behind she can track with a device from Pete's World. She knows it was there. So she waits, as Amy waits, because if a universe apart wasn't enough to break her spirit then time travel isn't either. Learns the year, gets a job, maybe goes and does her A levels like she said she wanted to do that one time. Years pass. Does she keep in touch with Amelia, the only lead she has to the Doctor? Rose says she doesn't really like children in Fear Her, but she's tolerated them before. Another strange figure in Amy's life. A connection to her "Raggedy Doctor". And almost as strange, too. Because as the years pass, the five between Doomsday and The Eleventh Hour, and the 12-14 years Amy waits, she doesn't age a day over 19/20. Did she ever get an explanation from the Doctor about Jack, in this vague extra time she's been with him? About how he left him without warning or explanation? Does Jack tell her? Does she worry he left her too? As the days pass, does she worry that he could sense what she was becoming, and abandoned her like he abandoned him? Or did she never know, not even have that context, left hoping that the doctor would one day come back until she has to accept that this time, this might be it. Left to deal with this curse on her own. She was worried Ten would leave her when he got that face. Maybe Eleven did. ...and of course, Eleven returns, none the wiser, and Rose's face only "confirms" he'd barely been gone at all! Nothing to worry about! Right?

#rose tyler #eleventh doctor #tenth doctor #11th doctor #10th doctor #doctor who #tentoo #metacrisis doctor #time petals #tenrose #elevenrose #Yippee! #I will probably reblog this later with more #with varying levels of canon compliance and angst #maybe one day I'll actually write about Rose in Torchwood

[aothotties]

Mommy Chaser (2)

Previous Chapters: 1

Warnings: None! (At least not in this chapter), Eren curses like once, him and the reader have a moment where they get close but no smut this time.

Word count: 1890

~~~

Tonight’s the night that you and Eren have dinner since meeting at Jean and Mikasa’s party. Unfortunately for you, your babysitter canceled last minute and your parents are out of town.

The moment you found out you rushed to call Eren and waited to hear bad news, but instead, all you got was an okay. No protest, no anger, none of the usual from other men who talk to you.

Eren wanted nothing more than to meet your little angel. He didn’t want to come off as strong or overbearing so he made sure to keep it cool on the phone.

Eren reassures you that your little one being there wouldn’t be an issue whatsoever. He even offers to take you all out, but you politely decline and decide to have a night in. He happily agrees and disconnects the call so he can prepare for tonight.

He arrives promptly on time and flashes his pretty white teeth at you once the door opens.

“You made it!” You say, a slight hint of shock in your voice.

“I sure did, I told you I would. And these are for you.” He hands over a small bouquet and you lightly inhale.

“Eren these are beautiful, you didn’t have to get these for me.” You set them down on the counter and go back to stirring the food in the pot.

“Well, they can be for your mini me as well, where is the little munchkin?” He looks around the living room.

“It looks like she’s waking up from her nap right this second. Can you come to watch the vegetables for me please?” You ask, he happily obliges and takes over at the stove.

You run upstairs and he focuses his attention on the array of veggies in front of him. He looks around and takes a peek at the chicken in the oven.

“Yeah, I’m gonna marry her.” He mumbles to himself as he stares at the food in front of him.

“Here she is!” You sing as you walk back into the kitchen.

Eren closes the oven quickly and smiles happily at the baby on your hip.

The little girl holds onto your shirt tightly and stares at Eren as if she’s getting a read on him. He holds his hand out in front of her and she slowly grabs at one of his fingers, she gives him a small smile and he chuckles.

“You must be special, she doesn’t normally warm up to people this fast. She also seems to like your rings.” You watch as he looks over the jewelry on his fingers closely.

“What can I say, I’m good with everyone.” He shrugs playfully and goes back to stirring the food.

Your daughter begins to whine when he turns his back to her and he quickly turns back to face her. She lets out a fit of giggles and reaches her arms out to him.

Eren feels his heart fill with joy and he happily takes the little girl into his arms.

“Hey there pretty girl, you look just like your mommy.”

It’s true, your daughter is your twin and has been since the day she was born. She’s just you, but in the form of a toddler.

“You’re doing an amazing job raising her, I can tell.” He praises you, you can’t help but shy away from the compliment.

“Well thank you Eren, it’s nice to hear that now and again.” You kiss your daughter on her forehead and start plating the food.

“How come I didn’t get one?” You turn around to see Eren pouting, your daughter looks at his face and immediately copies him.

You snort in response only to realize he’s not laughing, he’s very serious. You playfully roll your eyes and walk up to him, he leans down to your level and turns to the side.

You raise an eyebrow and he waits patiently for you to move closer. You play into his game and plant your lips on the middle of his cheek.

“Is that better Eren?” You question as you walk around to set up the table.

“Yeah, mama that’s fine for now.” He responds and you try not to smile at the nickname.

“What do you mean for now?” You take the baby from him and strap her into the high chair next to your seat.

“Patient my love, we’ll get there eventually.” He pats your hand and picks up a fork as he digs into his food.

“Oh my fucking god.” He moans as he eats and covers his mouth quickly.

You hold back a laugh and he begins to apologize profusely. He swallows the food and covers his face in embarrassment.

“It’s just so good I really couldn’t help myself” He wipes his mouth and goes back for more.

“It’s fine I promise, that was the funniest thing I’ve heard all day. And honestly, I’m flattered you think so highly of my cooking” You follow his movements and begin eating as well.

…

“Goodnight pretty girl.” You whisper to the sleeping baby lying in her crib.

You turn her nightlight on to the lowest setting and bend over to kiss her forehead, you pull the door up a bit and head towards your living room.

Eren is standing up and looking at all of the pictures on your wall and fireplace. He feels your presence and looks over in your direction.

“I’m sorry I don’t mean to stare, I’m just looking around.” He apologizes and you shake your head.

“No it’s okay, I have them up there for a reason.”

His eyes lock in on a photo of a man holding your daughter in the hospital. You can be seen in the background taking a nap.

“That’s her and her father, that was the most chaotic day of my entire life.” You run your forehead as you think about that day.

“Well I don’t know about you but I like chaos, tell me more.” He turns to look at you and you chuckle in response.

“I mean if you’ve got time then sure. I’m gonna need a glass of wine before I reminisce though.” You tell him, you make your way into the kitchen and grab two wine glasses.

“Why don’t you pick something out, they’re in the cabinet up top.”

“Are you asking because you can’t reach it?” He teases, he easily grabs a bottle and opens it with the corkscrew.

“So anyways, the day started with me waking up at 4:30 am with the worst cramps…”

One glass of wine turned into two, and then that turned into you trailing off into another story about who knows what. Know you two are on your second bottle of wine while going through an old photo album.

“Okay imma get it this time, this is a picture of you, and then over here is lil mama right here?” He looks at you for an answer and you nod in response.

He silently cheers to not wake her up and you cover your mouth as you let out a chuckle.

“You’re funny Eren.” You finish your glass and set it down on the table in front of you.

“I feel like you know almost everything about me, tell me more about you.” You turn and face him, silently admiring his features as he speaks.

You can feel the wine start to settle in your system as you lose focus on his words and start having lees thoughts.

You squeeze your legs together tightly and nod along with him.

You can’t help but start to wonder what it would be like if his hands were to touch all over your body. What would his lips feel like against yours, or even wrapped around your pretty little-

“Hey, what’s for you losing focus?” He looks over at you in concern and you just smile and shake your head.

“Nothing at all, I’m just a little tipsy. Would you like a snack?” You change the subject and speed to your kitchen, maybe some distance will calm you down.

“Yeah you’re tipsy, but I wanna know what you were thinking about!” He follows behind you quickly, so much for distance.

“Eren it’s nothing I promise.” You reassure him as you climb up onto the counter.

“Well if it’s nothing, then tell me. We’re both adults aren’t we?” He questions, filling the space between your legs with his body.

You grip the counter and he takes your hands in his before draping them over his broad shoulders.

You nod your head at his question and he gently places his hands on your waist, he maintains eye contact with you and keeps his hands at the same level.

“Then tell me what got your attention.” He mumbles, his green eyes trailing down to your lips.

“Y-you did. It’s just the alcohol getting to my system.” You answer shyly and he smirks at your answer.

“Oh yeah? Don’t be ashamed Princess, I’m honored. I can’t act like I’m completely innocent either. The moment you opened the door I had to hold myself back.” He says as he presses his forehead against yours.

“Eren, I’m not ready for “

“It’s okay, we’re not doing anything you’re not ready to do.” He reassures you, he presses a warm kiss to your forehead and you sigh in relief.

“It’s late though so I’m gonna head out, can I see you again this week?” He asks, heart racing at the small chance that you’ll tell him no.

“Please stay, we’ve been drinking and I’ll feel more at ease if you stay.” You take his hand as he turns and he manages to hide his shock.

“Oh uh, yeah that’s fine. I’d love to actually. All I need is a blanket and a pillow.” You nod and walk to the linen closet.

You grab a large pillow and blanket that looks comfortable. Before you walk out to him, you scream into the pillow to release some of your emotions.

You come back up for air and clear your throat. He takes the items from you and you pull the couch out for him.

“I’ll have to leave early to take her to my mom's house before work, so I’ll get you up then.” You let him know and he nods in agreement.

“That sounds great, thanks for the wine and pictures. You have a good night.” He says before pulling you in for a hug.

You sigh out contently once you’re in his arms, you force yourself to pull away from him after almost a minute.

“Thank you for being patient.” You hold one of his hands in yours and he kisses the back of it gently.

“Don’t thank me for being a decent human being. I’ll see you girls in the morning.” He kisses your forehead one last time and you smile as you walk to your bedroom.

Once you close your door you find yourself walking over to your bed. You plop back and stare at the ceiling as the butterflies in your stomach continue flying.

Your phone lights up and you pick it up to see it’s from Mikasa.

You chuckle at the both of them and turn your phone on DND. You get comfortable under the duvet and close your eyes, finally drifting off peacefully.

#aot x black reader #aot scenarios #aot x reader #aot imagines #aot x female reader #aot x y/n #aot x black y/n #eren x black fem!reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x you

[stardustinthesky]

Captain Sheridan, Dan Randall, ISN News. Thank goodness, someone reasonable to talk to.

#babylon 5 #susan ivanova #john sheridan #m: babylon 5 #mine: edits #susan's face is delight the whole time #especially when john's like susan please don't waste perfectly good clothes #you see the moment when she goes 'wait a minute--' #what a bunch of idiots i love them #idiots in space: the duet

[hyunniesgirl]

My cat likes you

Pairing: Lee Know x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: your cat is behaving strangely lately and a walk outside your apartment shows you exactly why.

Warnings: none

A/N: I saw a video on Instagram with a cat rubbing on the floor when they saw a cute guy and I was like "why is this so Lee Know coded?" And had to make something like that with him heheheh

It's been a few days since your cat started behaving strangely, she'll wake you up early in the morning meowing at your room’s door. At first you thought she did that because she was hungry, but when you put food in her bowl she ignores it and keeps meowing.

You realized then, that she wanted you to follow her as she twirled and rubbed on the floor. She would wait for you at the door and would keep scratching it, waiting for you to open it.

“It's too early for a walk, Bo-mi”, you tell her, shaking your head and turning around, going back to your bed to try and sleep a little bit more before work.

She keeps insisting on the early morning walks, but you don't give in, you can't have her get used to going out when it's still time for you to be sleeping.

After a few days, Bo-mi starts having that same behavior late at night, when you are already in bed, ready to go to sleep. She meows for minutes straight until you get up and walk with her to the door.

“Bo-mi, we can't go out now, I'm already in my pjs”, you sigh, patting her. But she keeps scratching the door and meowing for you to go out. “Tomorrow is Friday, okay? So I can stay up late to take you out for a walk”, you tell her before going back to your room.

You spend the next day trying to figure out why she's acting this way. You think about the possibility of her being sick, but she's eating and drinking water normally and she's sleeping the same amount as she always did. Her last check up wasn't even two months ago, even so, you should definitely make an appointment with the veterinarian.

You arrive at home and Bo-mi comes running to you, purring and rubbing herself on you. After you pet her, she goes back to the couch, getting comfortable there again, she doesn't even try to go to the door. Why does she just want to go out when it's late? Or early in the morning? It’s just strange.

Thinking too much about it won't help you find out what's going on, so you give up on the thoughts and just go to the bathroom to take a shower and put on some comfortable clothes since you have to take the lady of the house for a walk in a few hours.

Everything kind of makes sense when you open the door and Bo-mi goes running to the corridor, however, she stops at your neighbor's door, sniffing a bit. The sound of the elevator takes you out of your thoughts and your cat walks in that direction finding a strange man coming out of the elevator.

He looks at her and smiles, trying to go past her but she throws herself in the ground, showing her belly to him and rubbing herself on the floor.

Before you can speak, the guy bends down, petting and making her meow. You look at your watch to see that he's arriving at the exact time that Bo-mi tries going out every night. The weirdest thing is that she hates strangers, especially men.

“I’m sorry”, you finally get out of your head to say something, “she has been acting strangely lately”

“It's okay”, he says, without looking at you. Hypnotized by your cat's little meows and cuteness. “I actually saw her on the balcony one of these days, but couldn't pet her because of the distance”, he chuckles. “What's her name?”

He finally looks at you when asking that and for a moment it seems like the world stops for the both of you. He's the most handsome man you have ever seen in your entire life, with cute boba eyes and an innocent look.

“It's Bo-mi”, you tell him, feeling your cheeks a bit warm.

He clears his throat, petting your cat for the last time before standing up again, fixing his clothes. He didn't look at you at first, but you are so pretty it actually left him speechless and that is a hard thing to achieve. He was even going to make a joke about cats, but couldn't even manage to get that out while looking at your face.

“I'm sorry to ask, but do you also go out around five a.m.?” You ask out of nowhere, making him look at you suspiciously.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because I think my cat is in love with you”, you tell him, pointing at Bo-mi, rubbing herself on his legs. “She always tries to go out around five in the morning or at this time of the night, I guess she wanted to see you again”

You really understand Bo-mi on that, you would also want to see him everyday if you had the chance.

“Oh”, he smiles, “I'm Minho by the way, I moved here two weeks ago”, he says pointing to his apartment.

“I'm y/n”, you give your hand for him to shake, “I know it's weird to ask this, but can I bring her out sometimes so she can see you?” You ask, shyly, making Minho chuckle.

“Yeah”, he nods, “maybe you can also meet my cats”, he says, feeling his ears warming up. “I mean, in a housewarming party, of course”, he completes.

“I would love that”, you smile and he feels like he could melt just with that, “I'll take her home now”, you catch Bo-mi in your arms even though she struggles to get out of your grasp and go back to Minho, “I'll wait excitedly to meet your cats”

Minho watches you go into your apartment, waving to him before closing the door. Now, how the hell does a housewarming party even work?

#lee know scenarios #lee know imagines #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know x reader #stray kids lee know #skz lee know #lee know scenario #lee know imagine #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #k-labels #stray kids imagines #skz fluff #lee know fluff

[pucksandpower]

Fashionably Challenged

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: you and Max may not exactly be the paddock’s most stylish couple, but you wouldn’t want it any other way

You wake up to the sound of Max rummaging through the closet of your shared hotel suite. Rolling over, you see him laying out two matching outfits — the Red Bull Racing team polos, skinny jeans, and sneakers you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

One set for him, one set for you.

“Morning, liefje,” he says, catching your gaze. “I have our outfits for the day ready to go.”

You smile sleepily. “Thanks, babe. You know me too well.”

Max grins as he walks over and climbs back into bed, throwing an arm around you. “Of course I do. Can’t have my girlfriend showing up to races looking anything less than perfect.”

You laugh and playfully shove him. “Oh shut up. You know I’d show up in a potato sack if I could.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” he says with mock seriousness. “I would never let you embarrass me like that.”

“Embarrass you?” You scoff. “Please, like you even notice what I’m wearing half the time. You’re just as bad as me when it comes to fashion.”

Max opens his mouth to protest but then shuts it, shrugging in admission. “Okay, fair point. But that’s why I always get you the same thing I’m wearing. So there’s no way we can mess it up.”

You consider this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We make a pretty fashionably challenged couple.”

“The most fashionably challenged,” he agrees with a laugh. He pauses, gaze growing serious. “But I like it that way. I like that we match.”

Warmth blooms in your chest. “Me too.”

The morning passes quickly as you get ready for the race. True to form, you both pull on the matching outfits without a second thought. As you’re walking out to the car, Max stops you.

“Wait,” he says, taking your hand and turning you to face him. He looks you up and down appraisingly. “You look perfect, just like always.”

You can’t help but beam at the compliment. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

He grins. “Not nearly enough.”

“Well I do,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, schatje,” Max murmurs against your lips. “Now let’s go kick some ass today.”

The race goes well, Max taking the checkered flag to the roar of the crowds. As you’re waiting to congratulate him, a podcaster approaches you with a microphone.

“Hi there,” she says brightly. “I’m Lottie from The Racing Line. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple quick questions?”

“Oh, um, sure,” you’re a bit caught off guard.

“Great! So first off, you and Max always seem to be wearing matching outfits to the races. Is that something you two purposely coordinate as a cute couple thing?”

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. “Oh no, not at all actually. The truth is neither of us have much fashion sense at all. So Max just gets me the female version of whatever he’s wearing to make it easy.”

The podcaster looks disappointed. “Oh, I see. So it’s not some adorable couple tradition then?”

“Well, I mean, I guess in a way it kind of is?” You say quickly, feeling guilty. “Neither of us are really into fashion, so we end up matching by default anyway. I think it’s sweet that we always end up coordinating without even trying because we’re just so in sync.”

She perks up at that. “Aww, okay, I can see that! So even though it’s not on purpose, you’ve made your own cute little tradition out of it just by being so aligned. That’s really romantic.”

You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Well thank you so much for your time,” she shakes your hand. “And congratulations to Max on another win!”

“Thank you,” you reply as she walks away.

A few minutes later Max emerges, helmet under his arm and face lit up in that way you love. You throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Congratulations baby, you were amazing out there as always.”

“Thank you, schatje,” he says, squeezing you close. He pauses, smile turning teasing. “Did you enjoy chatting with that podcaster earlier?”

You pull back, eyes narrowing. “You saw that, did you?”

He chuckles. “Of course I did. I always notice you.”

“Well then you also saw me have to completely backtrack and come up with some sappy story for why we match when she thought it was a cutesy couple thing,” you say dryly.

Max shrugs. “It kind of is though, isn’t it? Maybe not on purpose, but it’s become our thing.”

“I guess you’re right,” you admit. “I told her it was romantic how in sync we are, always coordinating outfits without even trying.”

“Hmm, I like that,” he says, grinning. “We really are pretty in sync, aren’t we? Two fashionably hopeless peas in a pod.”

You laugh. “That we are.” You look at him fondly. “But I love our way better than being one of those obnoxiously coordinated couples.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “Though I will admit ...” His gaze grows more serious. “Part of the reason I like matching is because it makes me happy to walk around wearing the same thing as you. Like we’re a unit, you know?”

Your heart skips a beat at the soft vulnerability in his voice. “Max Verstappen, you big old romantic,” you tease gently.

He shrugs but you can see the pleased look in his eyes. Sudden understanding washes over you.

“Wait a minute … is that why you got me the same outfit the first time? Not just because you thought it would be easier, but because you wanted us to match?”

Max stays silent for a moment before breaking into a sheepish grin. “You caught me.”

“Oh my god!” You shove his shoulder playfully. “You big sap!”

“What can I say? I like having my girl on my arm looking like the power couple we are,” Max says, pulling you close again. “Fashionably challenged or not.”

“If only everyone out there making you out to be the villain could see the cuddly teddy bear you really are. I absolutely love it,” you murmur, stretching up to kiss him. You can feel him smile against your lips.

As you break apart, Max squeezes your hand. “Come on, let’s go celebrate. In new matching outfits, of course.”

You pretend to roll your eyes exaggeratingly but allow him to lead you towards the exit, your hands intertwined. You truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

You and Max are curled up on the couch in your hotel room, his arm draped around you as you lean into his side. It’s a rare quiet moment between races and you’re savoring the feeling of Max’s fingers gently carding through your hair.

“Hey Max?” You say after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” He hums in response, not looking away from the football match on the TV.

“I got an interesting offer today.”

That piques his interest and he turns his head to look at you. “Oh yeah? What kind of offer?”

You take a deep breath before answering. “A sponsorship deal, actually. From Oscar de la Renta.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, that’s … really great, liefje. I’m so happy for you.”

But something in his tone makes you frown slightly. “Are you though? You don’t sound that excited.”

He gives you a half smile. “No, no, I am! That’s a huge opportunity for your career and image. Having that kind of sponsorship deal is amazing.”

“But?” You prod knowingly.

Max lets out a breath, smile fading. “But I guess part of me is a little disappointed and maybe … worried?”

“About what?”

“Well,” he shifts uncomfortably. “I like being the one who picks out your outfits for the races. Our little unintentional matching tradition has kind of become my thing, you know? I’m worried if you get sponsored by some big designer brand you won’t wear the outfits I pick out anymore. That we won’t match.”

His tone is carefully casual but you can hear the undercurrent of vulnerability. Your heart clenches in your chest.

“Oh Max ...” you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You really like our matching outfits that much?”

He averts his eyes but nods. “Yeah. I know it sounds silly, but I just … I like how in sync we are. How happy it makes me feel when we show up to the races looking like a real team. Like we’re truly partners in everything. I don’t want to lose that.”

The softness in his voice breaks your heart a little. You take his hand and give it a squeeze.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” you tell him gently. “Because I never would have accepted that offer anyway.”

Max blinks in surprise. “You wouldn’t?”

You shake your head. “Not a chance. First of all, they were pressuring me to only wear very high-end stuff, none of which really feels like my personal style. But more importantly ...” You lean in closer, maintaining eye contact. “They don’t have a men’s collection. So they couldn’t sponsor you too.”

Realization lights up his gaze. “Oh ...” he says softly.

You nod. “Exactly. I told them thanks but no thanks. Because no designer wardrobe is worth giving up what we have.”

Max looks stunned. “You … you turned them down? Just to keep matching with me?”

“Of course I did,” you say affectionately, poking his chest. “I would never give that up. How could I say yes to some fancy sponsorship that meant not having my fashionably challenged other half by my side, both looking like total goofballs in the one outfit the world thinks makes up the entirety of our closet?”

A slow smile spreads across his face and he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So much.”

You relax into his embrace, overwhelmed by the rush of affection. “I love you too,” you whisper. You pull back slightly to look at him. “Did you really think I’d give up matching with you over that?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, looking a little sheepish. “I guess a small part of me was worried maybe you’d be tempted by the glamor and exposure of being a designer brand ambassador.”

“You know me better than that,” you affirm. “Our matching looks are too special to me. I adore everything about our little tradition — the fact that it started because neither of us cares about fashion, to you always picking out my outfits, and how happy it makes both of us to show up to races coordinating with each other.”

You take Max’s hand, intertwining your fingers. “Don’t you see, my love? It’s not really about the clothes at all, it’s about us. About how perfectly aligned we are in this little part of our lives. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

Max’s eyes have gone suspiciously bright, his free hand reaching up to cradle your face. “But liefje … you could have had any designer clothing you wanted.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You turned that down … for me?”

Unable to find the words, you just nod, blinking back your own tears.

“I can’t believe it,” Max breathes out shakily. “You never cease to amaze me.”

You offer him a watery smile. “Well believe it, my love. Because there’s nothing in the world more precious to me than you and our bond. I wouldn’t sacrifice that for anything.”

A single tear escapes to trail down Max’s cheek and you quickly brush it away with your thumb. Seeming at a loss for words, he pulls you into a fierce hug, tucking your head under his chin as you settle into his embrace.

“I love you,” he finally whispers into your hair. “So damn much.”

“I love you too.” You pepper kisses along his neck and jaw until you reach his lips, capturing them in a deep, slow kiss that tries to convey every unspoken word of devotion and adoration.

When you finally break apart, Max gazes at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“God, you really are perfect,” he murmurs, running a hand reverently through your hair. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“No,” you shake your head with a soft smile. “I’m the lucky one. To have someone who loves me so fiercely, someone I love just as much in return.”

Max lets out a watery chuckle. “I think we’re both the lucky ones then.”

You settle back against his chest as he wraps his arms securely around you. For a while neither of you speaks, lost in your own thoughts as you simply bask in each other’s presence. You let your eyes drift shut as Max’s fingers resume their gentle motions through your hair.

Eventually you break the silence.

“You know we’re going to have to get even cuter matching outfits now to make up for it,” you murmur teasingly.

Max’s chest rumbles with laughter against your cheek. “Deal. Anything you want, schatje. I’ll make sure we’re the most adorable fashionably challenged couple at every single race from now on.”

You smile at the warmth and conviction in his voice. “No one could ever call us uncoordinated.”

“Never,” Max affirms, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head. “We’re perfectly matched in every way that matters.”

You sigh contentedly as you snuggle further into his embrace. In that moment, you know he’s absolutely right. You couldn’t imagine a better match than your Max.

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[ryukatters]

swipe right — k. bakugo x fem! reader

✮ a/n: i remember seeing a post on here a long time ago about a character making a fake tinder profile for their gf and realizing how many people want her. (if someone knows the OG post please lmk so i can link it!) so now i present to you: bakugo falling to his knees in the middle of your apartment bedroom for the exact same reason.

✮ content/warnings: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp but when do I ever write him as being otherwise??

✮ summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.

✮ word count: 4.2k (i'm so sick)

Bakugo can remember how this all started. In very vivid detail, actually. He remembers because Kaminari had pissed him off so much to the extent that it took him a very substantial amount of effort to refrain from bashing his friend’s face in.

It all started during the last monthly hangout amongst Bakugo and his friends— one day out of the month designated to make sure that they all had time to catch up with one another despite their busy schedules.

Everything was normal, with all of them getting more than enough of their fill of food and alcohol while idly playing video games and talking about random topics to fill in the silence in Kaminari’s living room. 

Perfectly normal, until Denki decided to open his stupid mouth, at least. 

He goes off on a tangent about a trend he saw on social media where someone makes a fake Tinder profile for their partner to see how many matches they’d get. He proceeds to tell Bakugo that he should try doing it, for “funsies,”— to which Bakugo scoffs at. 

“Aren’t you curious, Kacchan?” Kaminari smiles cheekily, wrapping an arm around his blond friend’s shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Bakugo’s becoming visibly more upset with every passing moment. 

“Your girlfriend is really pretty,” Mina chimes in, sticking her tongue out when Katsuki whips his head to glare at her. “I’m still surprised she’s with a grump like you.” 

Kaminari butts in, “I bet there’s a whole line of guys around the block just waiting for a chance to get with her. I mean, just look at her! Hell, I’d even let her peg m—”

For a moment, Bakugo swears he wants to bash Kaminari’s face into his flatscreen. And for a moment, he lets that impulsive thought win— getting up and grabbing two fistfuls of Denki’s shirt before promptly getting cut off by Kirishima.

“Alright alright,” Kirishima forcibly pries Bakugo off of the other blond, pushing him off to the side. “That’s enough, you two. Kaminari was just messing around. I’ll admit, it wasn’t a good joke, but no need to hurt the guy, okay Bakugo?” 

Kirishima knows that Kaminari wasn’t being that serious, but Kirishima can also admit that what he had to say held some ounce of truth. And Kirishima knows Bakugo well enough to see how your boyfriend tends to be rather skittish and protective with matters concerning you— which is exactly why Eijiro had to stop him before it was too late. He really didn’t feel like preparing for Denki’s funeral or helping hide Katsuki escape from a homicide charge.

And that was that…up until a few minutes ago.

Katsuki’s tried to forget that conversation. But try as he might, his mind betrays him and can’t help but wander back to what Denki said that night.

He trusts you of course, and has complete faith in your relationship. However, he’s curious to a fault, just about perhaps too curious for his own good. 

How badly could this end?

As it turns out, this whole scheme seems to be playing out very poorly. 

Dozens of photos of you— screenshotted from your social media accounts— fill Katsuki’s screen. He had to choose photos you uploaded yourself, because most of his photos of you were either too…suggestive or too domestic (and he wants to be the only one to see you in those moments).

He swipes through “your” profile one last time before clicking “done” to officially put you on the market. And just like that, Bakugo’s met with the faces of men who are nowhere near your level. He goes through the batch of profiles, scrutinizing each one he comes across. He’s (un)surprisingly selective with the ones he chooses to swipe right on— making sure that they’re at least somewhat conventionally attractive. To his surprise (or dread, rather), his phone pings right away with a notification from someone who swiped back. Another ping. A message. 

You free tonight? 

Bakugo scoffs. He looks through the guy’s profile— a picture of him at a party with his arms around some girls, another with him doing a victory pose presumably after hiking, and one with him holding a fish. He feels his mouth curl in disgust, about to give into the urge to reply and give this guy a piece of his mind, before he realizes he’s pretending to be you. He takes a deep breath, closes out of the app, and puts down his phone. 

He’s starting to regret this.

Bakugo’s phone has gone off 15 times in the last hour. Bakugo has also felt the need to strangle some stranger through the phone 15 times in the last hour. Your (read: his) profile has existed for less than 60 minutes, and you already have a whole address book of nobodies trying to link with you and get a quick fuck. 

He feels the familiar beginnings of a headache creeping up the back of his skull. He thinks he might need a drink. Why did he decide to do this again?

In hindsight, he probably should have known this is exactly how it was going to go down. 

What was that saying? Curiosity killed the cat?

Yeah.

He was never great at self-preservation in the first place. So this, the feeling of overwhelming jealousy, frustration, possessiveness brewing up a storm threatening to pour out of every single fiber of Bakugo’s being— was no surprise.

He watches as the numbers at the bottom of his screen increase steadily, before tapping on the star icon. 

‘99+ likes!’ it reads. Over 99 people who saw your profile and thought you were beautiful. Bakugo pales, and he can feel the cold sweat building on the nape of his neck. He grips his phone, knuckles turning white. Is he shaking from anger or nervousness?

Anger because all these guys think they even have the slightest chance with someone as amazing as you. Nervousness because what if you decide that they do? You wouldn’t actually leave him for one of these guys, right? Right?

None of these men would walk through hell and back for you. They don’t know how you like your coffee, the details of your skin care routine, how you like to binge watch shows and talk Katsuki’s ear off about them (not that he ever minded, of course). They don’t know you, not like he does. Katsuki looks at you like you hung the moon. In fact, he’s pretty convinced that you did. Everything good in his life— the warmth, the color, the joy,— is encompassed by you. He’d be damned if he lets some greasy little nobody take that from him. Because the moment Bakugo fell in love with you, you became a part of him— inextricably and indefinitely. Loving you has become so intrinsic to him, that even the mere thought of another person loving you or looking at you the same way he does has him going insane. Not that anyone could love you like he did, though. That thought brings him some comfort, but not for long. 

One last notification he sees sends him spiraling. Bakugo swears that he can see red. That’s when he deletes the app, and throws his poor phone in some random corner of the living room, which is markedly one of the smarter choices he’s made as of late. He marches to your bedroom with a fire burning in his chest. 

He stops short of the door and finds you sitting at the edge of your shared bed, fresh out of the shower. You’re applying lotion, and he watches the cream absorb into your skin wordlessly, in awe at how overwhelmingly beautiful you manage to look in the most prosaic of tasks. For a second, he almost forgets the reason he was upset in the first place.  

Your hair is still damp, water droplets accumulating at the tips, and Katsuki feels his mouth run dry the minute he watches a stray bead fall and make its way down your neck and stop perfectly in the dip of your collarbone. Your very existence is forever etched into his heart, every inch of you carved into his memory, but even still he can never get tired of looking at you. At every angle, in every lighting, he needs to see you in it. You could call him obsessed, but he’d simply laugh and agree, because what’s so wrong with that? Especially if it’s you. 

You’re one to be studied— to be adored, Katsuki thinks, to the greatest capacity. It’s what you deserve. And what better person for that task to fall upon than him?

He finds himself naturally gravitating towards you, his finger tracing the same exact path the water had carved just moments before, wordlessly. You try to pay no mind, but it’s difficult as you realize just how close Bakugo was and how your towel barely manages to cover up your most intimate parts. One wrong move and you’d be exposed. With how things were playing out, and the predatory glint in the blond’s eyes, you don’t think your boyfriend would be too perturbed with your current predicament. 

Katsuki presses a delicate kiss to your forehead before he crouches down. Suddenly, you’re at eye level with one another, his hot breath tickling your lips. You think for a moment he’s going to kiss you so you lean forward, lips waiting. But he merely grazes them before he sucks a deep bruise into the juncture of your neck, biting slightly. 

You’re barely given any time to react before he’s grabbing the hand that’s securing your towel and ripping it away, the offending garment falling off your body. Your flesh prickles with goosebumps as its exposed to the sudden chill.  It’s quickly replaced by the heat of Bakugo’s body as he pushes you lightly, your back hitting the mattress. He crawls on top of you, muscular thighs on either side of your hips, your head placed conveniently between his forearms. He’s trapped you, a nonverbal challenge for you to try and escape. 

You’re a work of art, he thinks, but much more valuable than any pièce de résistance framed in any museum. 

Beautiful, yes, but far too blank for his liking. He wants to ruin you, make you his own personal magnum opus. And so he does. 

He presses a clothed knee against your bare cunt, pressing firmly. His lips continue their assault on your neck, leaving angry purpling bruises in their wake. Rough hands find your breast, and you moan in surprise when he gives both of them a harsh squeeze as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. Katsuki kisses you like a man dying of thirst, hungry for everything you can offer him and more. It’s all too much already, the way he’s kissing you has your mind reeling, and you have to turn your head away for a moment to catch your breath. Katsuki thinks it’s a moment too long without you, so he coaxes you into locking lips with him once more. A wave of mischievousness washes over you, prompting you to take your boyfriend’s lower lip in between your teeth, biting down lightly. 

You feel his breath hitch, before he lets out a low groan as he grinds his clothed dick against your bare wetness. He returns the favor, sucking on your bottom lip before letting it go with a wet pop. He pulls back with a lazy smirk, his lips pursing together to scatter messy kisses down the base of your throat and down your chest, alternating between sucking and biting at the flesh. 

He gives you a good once-over, scanning every surface, committing them to memory. You feel the need to curl into yourself with how intensely those vermillion eyes are piercing into you, memorizing every single curve, scar, freckle like he’s done time and time again. 

He drops down to his knees, broad shoulders bullying their way in between your legs, forcibly prying them open. He grips your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh, and drags you down the mattress until your legs are dangling off the bed.

“Jesus, Kats, be more gentle.”

“Shhh. I know you like it when I’m not gentle,” he chuckles. As if to prove a point, he pulls you down even further, giving a harsh bite to your inner thigh. He smiles deviously when you yelp. You try to pull at his hair but his reflexes are too quick, pinning both of your wrists down on either side of you easily. “Besides, this is the perfect height for me to eat you out, dontcha think baby?” 

You want to chastise him for being so crass, so Katsuki, but the words die on the tip of your tongue the minute he gives a sweet, loving kiss to your clit, sucking lightly. 

“You’re mine. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this except for me.” 

You’re not entirely sure what brought this on, but you find it hard to complain when Bakugo drags his tongue from your throbbing clit to inside your pussy, drinking everything you have to offer. 

Your hands automatically try to find purchase in his blond locks, struggling against the vice grip Katsuki has on your wrists. He decides to take pity on you, loosening his hold so you can slip your hands into his hair, moaning appreciatively when he feels you tug. He rewards you by flicking his tongue on your clit over and over again, just the way you like it. He does it until your moans begin to pitch higher and higher, the same way that they do when you’re close. He doesn’t stop his ministrations even after you cum, riding out your orgasm until your thighs are shaking from overstimulation. He pulls away from you with a loud pop, taking in the sight before him. 

He runs a hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “So fucked out already and we’re barely getting started, baby.”

Your mind is barely processing his words before you feel Katsuki’s erection brush against your stomach, his clothing haphazardly discarded on the floor. He taps the head of his dick against your clit to tease you, a feeling of satisfaction swelling when you cry out from under him.  

He watches in fascination as strings of your arousal cling to him. He positions his length at your entrance, locking eyes with you as you hold your breath in anticipation. Katsuki likes you like this. Needy for him. 

 “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” He slips into you with a stuttered groan. 

Katsuki’s always been big. You never get used to the initial stretch, no matter how many times you two fuck. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sliding in with ease from the slick of your last orgasm. It easily coats his cock as he gives a few experimental thrusts. He groans in rapture. How do you manage to feel so good every time? It’s enough to drive him insane. Perhaps he already is. 

“So fucking perfect, no wonder why all those losers want you.” He mutters out the last part, and you’re not sure if you caught that right. 

“What?” He chooses not to respond, and you aren’t given the opportunity to think any further before your legs are thrown over his shoulders, Katsuki’s weight effectively pinning you in place. The stretch knocks all the wind out of your lungs, and all you can do is cling to Katsuki, nails leaving red, angry lines on his well-defined back.

He wastes no time before he starts drilling into you, hips slotting in between your legs perfectly. The position has him pressed against your clit, and your entire body feels like it’s been set ablaze, with Katsuki holding both the power to have it burn even brighter and the ability to extinguish it. And you’re almost there, you can feel your soul slowly ascending, your room filled with hymns of pleasure, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, threatening to unravel along with your sanity. Katsuki can feel it too— the way you’re squeezing him tighter, how your gasps and moans have climbed just a note higher, how absolutely ruined you look, how he’s responsible for your current state. Which is exactly why he wants to push it even further, he wants to see how much you’ll break for him— and only him. 

Katsuki cuts you off right before you can reach your peak, pulling out but making sure just his tip is inserted. You come to and take a look at your lover and marvel at the sight. He has a crazed look in his eyes. The way he smirks is absolutely wicked. 

You feel distraught— having been so close but having it ripped away from you. You give your boyfriend a petulant pout.

“Katsuki,” you whine, slapping a hand against his sweaty chest, “Why’d you stop? I was so close!”

“Because I didn’t want you to cum yet,” he says simply. “You’ll be good for me, yeah? I’ll give my baby what she deserves, as long as she’s good.” 

You roll your eyes, huffing. That won’t do for him.

As much as he loves seeing you indulge, he feels a need to punish you— at least a little bit to even begin to atone for being the wicked temptress you are. 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Bakugo growls, gripping your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, causing your lips to purse slightly. “I said be good, okay? Wanna take my time with you.” 

There’s a moment of respite, until you sigh in defeat, knowing better than to argue with him lest you wanted to dig your own grave. “‘Kay, ‘ki.”

He flashes you a smile. Obedient, just how he likes you. “Good girl.”

Katsuki draws his hips back, thrusting just enough to fuck his tip into you. He’s teasing. The amount of willpower on his end it takes not to cum is nauseating. 

“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” he rasps, one hand finding their way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. Your hands reflexively grab his wrist. 

All you can manage is a fucked out moan. Katsuki has to resist the urge to coo, about how he’s managed to turn you into a cockdrunk mess in such a short matter of time. The wave of possessiveness that’s been gnawing at the depths of his soul begins to seep out, and he’s reminded of the reason why the two of you are in this position in the first place. 

He gives your throat another squeeze and a rough slap to your clit. “C’mon princess, answer me. Say it.” He slowly adds more and more pressure until your ears grow hot and air feels like a precious commodity. 

“I-i’m pretty,” you manage to gasp out, tears spilling from your lash line as you begin to lose yourself between the space of pleasure and pain. 

Good. Always so pliant for him.

“That’s right, baby,” he concedes. “So fuckin’ beautiful.” He punctuates the last word with a deep thrust, right against that spongy spot that feels so good. You’re so sensitive that it’s enough to send you spiraling into your second orgasm, walls spasming around him uncontrollably. 

Katsuki stills, staving off his own release with all the restraint he can summon. He silently thanks whatever divine forces are out there that he didn’t cum the minute he felt the first clench of your orgasm. 

He grits his teeth as he wills himself to move, trying not to get lost in the wetness that envelops him. You’re babbling now, senseless moans filling Katsuki’s ears like a sweet melody. 

“Kats, please, I’m too sensitive—” You’re shaking now, muscles trembling with every thrust. 

“But I’m not done with you yet,” he says simply, drawing his hips back with a particularly rough thrust. You choke back whatever you were going to say with a loud cry. “What’s your color, baby?”

You take a moment to answer, brain trying to comprehend the words just uttered to you. You look at Katsuki firmly, “Green.”

“Atta girl,” he praises, the drive of his hips beginning to shallow. He’s close, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. But for you, he tries. “You’re mine, right?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, shivering as goosebumps dance across your skin. 

“Say it,” Katsuki pleads, thrusts growing sloppy by the second. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m all yours, ‘ki.” 

With that, Katsuki’s fate is sealed. He’s left groaning as a flash of pleasure shakes his very soul, filling you up with so much cum that it dribbles onto the mattress even while he’s still inside you. You follow suit, an embarrassingly obscene rhythm of squelching noises fill the silence as you spasm around his dick. He collapses on top of you, but he’s still coherent enough to not dump all his weight on you. 

Your labored breaths fill the room as the two of you come to. Katsuki pulls out of you with a wince, still a bit sensitive. He gives you a peck on the lips before he drags himself down, settling in between your legs much like he was earlier. 

You tense up, “Kats, wait—”

Any and all protests cease the moment Bakugo works his tongue inside of you, slurping lewdly as he drags out the mixture of your cum and his, swallowing. He tries not to stimulate your puffy clit in an attempt to be merciful, but you still feel yourself steadily climbing to what would be your fourth orgasm this session. While the past three have been intense and drowning, this one comes to you in waves, dull pleasure invading your senses as Katsuki continues to eat you out to clean you up. 

He pulls away when you finish, your slick and his saliva coating his chin before he wipes it off on the back of his hand. You stare at his half-hard erection with a half concerned, half quizzical look. “Do you…” you lick your lips, “need help with that? I’m a little sensitive down there  but I could use my mout—”

“Nah, I’m good babe,” he says earnestly, flashing you a smile that he only ever shows around you. “I’ll be back.” With that, your boyfriend leaves the room only to come back with a bottle of water. 

“Drink.” You comply, finishing half the bottle graciously before handing it to him. He downs the rest before he settles next to you on the bed, laying on his side. You mirror him, shifting your body so that you’re both facing each other. 

Katsuki reaches out, finger idly tracing random shapes and lines onto the bare skin on your hip. He has a pensive look on his face, one that he usually doesn’t hold after stolen moments like this; it’s an expression he wears when he’s in deep thought. 

“Baby,” you call out. His eyes snap to yours, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?”

“Whatcha thinking about?” You watch as a hesitant look flashes across your boyfriend’s face before he shakes his head.

“S’nothin’. Just thinkin’ about us two.” He speaks lightly. It’s always been difficult for him to voice his inner thoughts and feelings, so he tends to beat around the bush. You’ve learned that if you ever want something out of him, you’d have to pry a little. Katsuki always indulges you though. 

“What about us?”

“Do you- do you think you’ll ever get tired of this?” He repeats himself, clearing his throat. The question is followed by a weaker, “...of me?”

You think it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever asked, because the answer should be obvious. “I’d never get tired of you, Katsuki. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replies automatically, “but if I ever do anything that upsets you, or if I get too much for you, or if I—” he’s rambling now. Yes, it’s difficult for Katsuki to talk about his feelings, but once you manage to get him to open up, all the walls of his self-made fortress come crashing down and it’s up to you to pick up the pieces. 

“Baby,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips, cupping his sharp jaw with one hand. “Look at me.” And he does— ruby eyes meeting yours. “I love you because you’re you. And I choose to be with you everyday. It’s not always gonna be perfect, no relationship is. But I know that I will always wake up and choose you.” 

You can see the anxiety melt away from Katsuki’s body, shoulders slumping as he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Love you too, sap,” is all he says before he’s pulling you against his chest, squeezing you into a bearhug. You two stay that way until both of you are lulled to sleep. 

You’re laying in bed with Katsuki, both of you dozing off when you hear a slight buzz from your phone on the nightstand. You squint as you try to read the notification, and make out that it’s from your friend.

Denki Kaminari: So did it work?

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, giving a quick glance over your shoulder to check on your boyfriend— fast asleep. You turn back to your phone, your thumbs making quick work at your keyboard. 

You: Just like I said it would. Thanks Denki :)

Writing belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not share my work on Tiktok.

#bakugo x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x y/n #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #kat's writing #kat's demon time #tw.dubcon #cw.dubcon #tw.overstimulation #cw.overstimulation

[gh0st-in-green-c0nverse]

golden

percy jackson x reader — you take his place on the throne

cw: EPISODE 5 SPOILERS (ish), swearing

The boat bobs along the water slowly. You feel sick. For a while, the two of you just sit there, still reeling.

“You okay?” Percy asks after he catches his breath.

You’d reached out and grabbed his hand without realizing it in your panic. You’re suddenly very aware of his skin on yours, warm and kind of clammy. You disentangle your fingers without comment.

“Yeah.”

He’s about to say something to fill the awkward silence when your eyes widen.

“There’s the shield!” You exclaim, standing.

He follows your gaze to a golden statue, the shield wedged between its hands. The boat doesn’t stop, though. He looks at you, and then back at the statue.

“We’re gonna have to jump,” he says, and you grimace. The artificial waves are getting choppier.

You eye the water.

“On three?” You finally say.

Percy smiles in a way that he hopes is reassuring. “On three.”

“One…two-!” Before you can say three, the boat lurches and you both topple over the edge.

As soon as the water closes over your head, you’re struggling and kicking. You can’t tell up from down. Your lungs squeeze, your eyes sting. Somewhere in the haze, you see Percy, and you reach out, but he’s so far. He disappears in a whirl of water, and you think, wow, after all of this, I’m about to die in an amusement park.

Suddenly, something solid rushes to meet you and there’s air on your face and you can’t stop coughing.

Percy places an unsure hand on your back as you suck in rattling breaths. He says something, but it still sounds like everything’s underwater.

You shake your head sharply, hand pressing your ear flat until the water drips out and you can hear again. “I’m alright,” you say, before he asks. He helps you stagger into a standing position. For a few moments, the only sound is your wheezing.

Percy squints at the chair. “This is Hephestasus’ park, right?”

You nod.

“I think this is Hera’s throne,” he says slowly, glancing at you for confirmation.

You vaguely recall that story. “She sat in it and couldn’t get up,” you think aloud.

“It was a trade,” Percy continues. “Aphrodite’s hand in marriage for Hera. The shield for…”

One of us.

Oh.

“I’ll do it.”

He catches your arm as you start forward. “Wait a minute!”

“Whoever goes in there isn’t coming back,” you explain, brows set in a hard line.

“I know, that’s why I said wait!”

You yank your arm back. Percy’s face flickers with something you can’t read.

“You need to stay alive,” you say, stressing every word.

“So do you!”

You shake your head. “You have your mom. You have Grover. You have people who need you.”

The I don’t hangs in the air, unsaid.

He opens his mouth, then shuts it again.

I need you, he wants to say.

But he doesn’t.

“The gods chose you, Percy. This is your quest.”

This is wrong. This is so wrong. It’s cruel, and so unfair that they have to choose. Fuck this. Fuck all of this.

“This isn’t about that,” he protests, though he knows he can’t beat you. You’d always had a sharper tongue than him.

You unhook your dagger. He remembers the arch, only yesterday. Is this how you felt? This burning in his chest?

“It is. It all goes back to that prophecy. To fate. To the Fates.”

Your eyes burn with tears as you hold out your dagger for him to take.

He blinks hard. “This is wrong,” he says, voice wavering, and you’ve never seen him like this before. Always tough, always witty. Unserious, sure, but never afraid.

You push it towards him, and he takes it.

“I know.”

Your fingers twitch. You’d hug him, one last time, but you remember how he froze back in St. Louis.

So you don't.

You walk over to the chair, heart pounding. This is a death sentence. This is it. This is it.

“Hey, Percy?”

His head snaps up, lip tugged between his teeth as he holds back tears too.

“Go save your mom,” You say. “Save her, save the bolt, and tell Grover I’m sorry.”

You picture Grover’s face when he finds out what happened to you. You turn away, stand right in front of the throne. It glints in the swimming light.

“And if you have a chance, I don’t know, maybe swing back around here and try to get me out?”

He laughs sadly. ��You think you had to ask?”

“Just making sure.”

You sit.

For a moment, nothing happens, and you're worried that you’d said all that for nothing. You’d feel pretty stupid.

And then—

“This is weird,” you say. “It’s warm.”

There’s fear in his eyes and your dagger in his hand.

Something snakes its way up your leg, smooth and fast. It feels like wax, almost, hardening over your skin.

“This is a bad idea,” Percy says, eyes tracking something at your feet. “Stand up.”

You don’t look at what he’s looking at. You don’t want to.

“I can’t.” Panic rises in your chest, fast and unwelcome, and you’d be shaking if you could move.

“y/n—”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, voice hoarse. The words don’t sound right in your mouth. Your legs are completely immobile. Your breath comes in short gasps. “I’m okay. I’m… okay.”

You look at him, trembling and still pretty damp, mouth open like he wants to say something.

Whatever’s seeping onto your face is warm and brittle. You stare hard at his eyes. They’re a shining blue. They’re afraid.

It’s the last thing you see.

a/n: sorry guys cliffhangers make me giggle ‼️ I’ll write another part If u guys would want me to !

#pjo #percyjackson #percy jackson #percy jackson fics #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson disney+

[explicit-tae]

Ungodly Hour (7)

While having dinner with your family, you begin to see Jungkook in a new light.

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4.962

Warning: kissing, simp jk, tsundere reader duh, baby fever, shower sex, creampie, fingering, dirty talking, unprotected sex, biting,

“Ah, Y/N.” your mother looks over her shoulder at you, her eyes glazing behind you for a moment. “You’re alone.” she notes matter-of-factly.

You scoff humorlessly. “Jungkook had to visit his family before coming here.” you respond, kicking off your shoes. “He should be here soon.”

You should have known coming here without Jungkook would result in your mother questioning you - curse Jeon Jungkook and his personality that has your mother loving him already.

Your mother makes her way towards you, wrapping you in an embrace. “I’m happy to hear that. I can’t wait to see him again.” she says. 

You roll your eyes.

Deep down, it’s nice knowing that your mother liked Jungkook. Her opinion on whoever you dated is important.

However - this was Jeon Jungkook you’re talking about. Everything he had said has come to life - even from the very beginning. You acknowledging him due to needing streaming services, you and him dating, your mother loving everything about him and to the worst of them all  - you liking him. The man revels in the fact that he was winning whatever challenge you and he had and he wasn’t even doing anything but being himself. 

Fuck Jeon Jungkook. 

“Why didn’t you go with him?” your mother asks when she releases you from her embrace. “Have you met his family already?”

You shake your head, glancing away. 

You didn’t want to admit that you were nervous because you were you - you never got nervous But you were new to this; meeting the family. 

That, and Jungkook didn’t necessarily ask if you wanted to come. “I’ll be having breakfast with my parents.” he said, putting on a jacket. “You can come if you’d like.”

That wasn’t an invitation - and besides, you didn’t want to intrude on a holiday. Jungkook doesn’t see his parents as often as you do yours.

“Think they wouldn’t like you?” your mother murmurs in a low, gossiping tone that you choose to ignore.

You greet your father silently - he was on a business call and appeared utterly miserable doing so. He hated talking, and each day you begin to realize that maybe you took more of his traits as you grew older. 

You and your mother speak as she continues to cook - about anything that the conversation brings. It began with small talk - work and family gossip. She asks how you and Jungkook are and you answer as honestly as you could - she gushes how you appear to be “glowing” and that it’s Jungkook’s doing, but you’d never give a man that much satisfaction.

It was another 20 minutes when Jungkook did arrive. He had knocked softly on the door and you instantly knew it was him. You were ready to retort snarky towards him when you swung the door open, but you stopped in your tracks. 

“Sorry I’m late.” Jungkook speaks, a smile on his lips. The piercing slightly shines in the evening sun. He’s dressed casually, a dark shirt with dark jeans that are ripped at the knees. 

You notice Jungkook’s change immediately - his hair. His once long locks that sat on his shoulders have now been cut - the sides slightly shaved, and the top of his head, though longer than the sides, have but cut, as well. There’s a loose hair that falls slightly on his forehead and you swallow thickly. 

In Jungkook’s hands are flowers - this time bought and not yanked from his neighbor's garden. They’re assorted - lilies, sunflowers, gerberas and more. 

“You’re late because you stopped and grabbed flowers.” you deadpan, opening the door wider. Jungkook steps inside your home and goes to kick off his shoes. “Of course.” he chuckles. “Everytime we go to the bakery besides the flower shop, I notice you look inside.” Jungkook explains.

Jungkook extends his arms to hand you the flowers, a soft look in his eyes. Your stomach begins to churn and your heart thump. “Oh,” you murmur, glancing down at the bouquet of flowers now in your hands. “I didn’t know you noticed that.”

You’re embarrassed - you never knew Jungkook paid attention. It wasn’t anything worth being embarrassed about - flowers are pretty and you’d often admire them whenever you could. You just never knew Jungkook had been observing you do so. 

“Of course I do.” Jungkook responds. He steps closer to you to wrap an arm around your waist to bring you closer to him. He inches his face closer to yours. “I watch you a lot.”

“Stalker.” you retort with a lick of your lips, your eyes darting from his eyes to his lips for a split second - a second that Jungkook catches. 

“I’d prefer admirer.” Jungkook responds right before kissing your lips. “What lipgloss are you wearing? Tastes sweet…” Jungkook kisses you once more, deepening it. 

“It’s,” Jungkook interrupts your speech to kiss you once more. “mango,” and again, Jungkook kisses your lips. “Kook-” Jungkook hums into the next peck of your lips.

You manage to push Jungkook away from you, your body rushing with heat. “You’re so obsessed with me.” you roll your eyes, a smile forming onto your lips.

Jungkook chuckles heartily, embracing you tighter. “I’m your number one fan.” he says. “Just missed you is all.”

Your heart leaps once more - this time at his words. You push yourself away a bit more so you wouldn’t fall into the rabbit hole that was Jeon Jungkook - you were in your parents home and you didn’t need anyone seeing how truly down bad you were for Jungkook when he spoke so nicely to you.

Despicable, you think, a few nice words from Jungkook has you ready to be out of your panties. How far you’ve fallen.

“You cut your hair.” you say to change the subject, eyes darting up to the new cut. Your hand reaches for it, touching the sides with interest. 

“I did.” Jungkook nods, leaning his head into your hand. “You like it?”

You nod slightly, then huff. “It’s alright.” you shrug. You needed to regain your control over the situation - and the overall relationship. You can’t keep falling for Jungkook and his traps.

Jungkook smiles widely. He wouldn’t tell you, but you were the reason he cut it. He recalls you telling him once on a random occasion that he would look nice with a cut you have seen while scrolling on your phone. It was a side comment that you didn’t think he’d take into consideration - and even now, he’s positive that you didn’t even remember. 

“What made you cut it?” you then ask, and Jungkook’s cheeks flushes. “What?” you say, snickering at the look on his face. “Did your little girlfriend suggest it?”

“My little girlfriend?” Jungkook raises a brow, unsure what you were about to say next. 

“Yeah, Sia.” you say teasingly - but your eyes zone in on Jungkook as you wait for a reaction. Jungkook scoffs. “Ah, we’re bringing up the girl that doesn’t cross my mind in the slightest.” he says and it’s the truth. He would forget about Sia entirely if she didn’t attempt - keyword: attempt - to speak with him.

“Just kidding.” you laugh. Your hand drops from his hair to his cheek. “I really do like it.” you murmur to him, a soft moment that you’d allow him to have - just this once.

Jungkook’s smile widens slightly, but there’s a glint in his eyes. “You want to sit on my face so bad, baby.” he murmurs.

“Ugh,” you push Jungkook away. “as if.” You do - and Jungkook knows it, too. But you’d have to deny it until it was time to actually do the deed. 

Jungkook is quick to wrap and arm around your shoulder, bringing you in for a side-ways hug. “We’ll worry about that later.” there’s a quick peck that’s placed on your forehead. “Let me greet my in-laws.”

“You’re not my husband.”

Jungkook doesn’t let up. “Yet.” he says, sending you a wink. 

Your mother is first to greet Jungkook, appearing far too excited to see him than she was seeing you prior. She wraps Jungkook in a hug. “You’re so handsome with your haircut!” she says.

You roll your eyes hard, placing the bouquet of flowers down on the kitchen table.

“Thank you.” Jungkook beams at the compliment. 

“Doesn’t he look handsome, Y/N?” your mother then turns to you.

You glance at Jungkook whose eyes are looking at you along with your mothers. His eyebrows wiggle - he was enjoying this entirely.

“I seen better.”

Your mother gasps at your words and Jungkook only laughs because he knows your true feelings. 

“It’s not like she had a lot of boyfriends. She was always so mean to the opposite sex.” your mother tells Jungkook with a shake of her head. “I don’t know how you deal with her.”

You’re taken aback for a moment, your ears perking at the conversation. 

“Y/N knows she can’t run me away.” Jungkook says to your mother. “I know how to deal with her just fine.”

Your eyes widen slightly at Jungkook’s words, your lips forming into a thin line. You shake your head at Jungkook - you didn’t need him insinuating anything sexual.

“You have to treat him right, Y/N. He’s such a sweetheart!” your mother turns to look at the bouquet of flowers with a huff, trying to rack her brain and remember when was the last time she received one.

“Jungkook’s not going anywhere.” you snort. “Is dinner almost done?”

“Yes!” your mother rounds the corner to go towards the stove. 

“Right.” you turn to Jungkook. “I’m gonna go wash my hands.”

“I will, too.” Jungkook follows close behind you, his eyes glancing around the walls as you walk down the hallway - there’s pictures of you and your brother from different stages of life and some family pictures.

You open the door to the bathroom and venture inside, flicking the light on. “Don’t let my moms words get to your big ass head.”

Jungkook follows behind you, closing the door slightly. You turn on the water and begin washing your hands. “I will. She called me handsome.”

You roll your eyes. “She makes it seem like you’re trapped.”

“Never!” Jungkook wraps his arms around you, his eyes on your reflection in the mirror just as you were finishing drying your hands. “I’m here willingly.” Jungkook’s lips place themselves on the nape of your neck and he kisses it. “You already said it. I’m not going anywhere.”

You bite your lip and turn off the faucet and wave your hands a bit to get the excess water off. You know what Jungkook is doing - you aren’t a fool. Him kissing your neck in this exact spot isn’t something innocent. “My parents are literally in the other room.” you sigh. 

Jungkook now has his arms wrapped around you, him standing directly behind you. One hand holds you in place by your waist while the other roams upwards. He grips your breast teasingly before placing it on your neck. 

“I just want a kiss.” Jungkook responds innocently - and you know it’s all a facade. 

“It always starts with you wanting a kiss.” you grumble. Jungkook’s breath is warm against your neck. “Then it ends with-“

“You sitting on my face. I’m aware.” Jungkook presses another kiss against your neck. “I just want a kiss, Y/N. That’s all. I promise.”

The hand that lays on your neck rises to your chin and gently, Jungkook pushes it to the right. “Just one.” you murmur, your defensive walls crumbling yet again. You curse yourself because of course Jeon fucking Jungkook was winning the battle.  “Then you have to get the fuck off of me.”

Jungkook laughs at your response. “Of course.”

Jungkook connects your glossy lips to his own and lowly, he groans. He was positive he kissed all of the gloss from your lips - but maybe you put more on when he wasn’t looking. 

The hand on your waist tightens and you know just what Jungkook was thinking. 

“That’s enough.” you murmur weakly, but Jungkook only kisses down your jaw to your neck again. 

“Okay.” Jungkook sighs. “You smell so good.” he compliments. “Taste good too…”

“Stop.” you respond firmly. You were a whore for praises - and Jungkook knows this. Even if you would insult him or call him a simp, it wouldn’t faze the man because he knows that deep down, you enjoy it.

“Stop what? Complimenting you?” Jungkook snickers. 

“I know what you’re trying to do.” you argue. “You want to-“

The door to the bathroom - which was never closed to begin with, just cracked - slams open. Immediately, you and Jungkook are startled, jumping away from one another and turning around to see just who had made their presence known.

“Is that your boyfriend?”

Immediately, your shoulders relax at the sight of your niece - for someone so young and only the age of 8, she was a lot to handle. Oftentimes you’d forget that you were the adult in the situation, bickering with her whenever and would be confused to be her older sister when out in public instead of her aunt. 

“Why are you here?”

“Rude.” she murmurs, crossing her arms. “My dad says we’re here to meet your boyfriend.”

Jungkook looks at the small child and instantly, he sees you. He blinks between the two of you, slightly amused at the sight and also afraid to speak.

“How does-” you sigh, already knowing the answer. You’re sure your mother had told him about dinner, invited not only him, but his children - especially his oldest child - to torment you further. “-this is Jungkook.” you sigh, waving lazily. She was going to pry into your life until you gave her what she wanted. 

“Jung…kook…” she says his name, looking up at the taller man. “Okay.”

Jungkook watches as your niece turns away and skips down the hall.

“Wow she’s-” Jungkook begins.

“Annoying?” you snort, turning towards him. 

“I was going to say just like you. So cute.” Jungkook snickers.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook.

There’s something about the way Jungkook looks right now.

Of course, the hair. The cut looks amazing on him and somehow appears even hotter than usual. The tattoos and piercings are always a plus - but that wasn’t it.

Jungkook’s holding your nephew. He’s only one and in the stage that he’s learning how to walk. Your mother and father are chatting amongst each other and your brother and you had just got done having a heated debate about if tomato was a fruit or a vegetable.

Somehow, your niece managed to sit directly beside Jungkook and talk his ear off about everything and nothing at the same time, and the man appeared entirely too intrigued about her meaningless conversation. And with how interested his sister looked with Jungkook, only made your nephew be, as well, crawling over and demanding to be picked up and sat in his lap.

Maybe that was it - the way Jungkook looked holding your nephew. He wasn’t a baby, but he looked smaller than he truly was in Jungkook’s arms. He appears utterly content being held by the stranger and Jungkook allows him to play with the rings on his fingers while he listens to your niece talk.

You glance away from the scene for a moment to collect your thoughts, grumbling something under your breath.

“He must really like you.” your mother’s words have you coming back to reality. “He doesn’t really like being held.”

You frown at the sight of Jungkook and your nephew now because it was causing a weird pull in your heart that has your mind racing at what in the world it could be. 

Your brother and you make eye contact, both knowing where your mother was going with this.

“Do you want kids, Jungkook?”

You groan with a roll of your eyes. “Mother-”

“Yes, I do.” Jungkook answers immediately. He bounces your nephew on his leg, his hand being tugged by the toddler. “Maybe two one day.”

Don’t entertain her, you want to tell Jungkook. Your mother would never stop digging deeper and asking more questions. 

“Oh, really? When do you two-”

“I’m gonna have to stop you right there.” you intervene, body flushing with heat. You take a sip of your water before continuing. “Mother, please.”

To your mother, the sooner you and Jungkook started a family, the better. She was growing to like him and that meant that she would be pushing the act of marriage and having children with you more often - even before you finished college. 

“I’m just saying,” your mother is quick to defend herself. “Jungkook looks like he’s amazing with children.”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook because now you were never going to hear the end of this.

Your brother is amused with the interaction as it reminds him when he was in your shoes with his current wife that his mother had adored similarly to Jungkook. 

“I’ll have to ask Y/N to marry me first.” Jungkook chuckles. “Getting her to be my girlfriend was a challenge alone.”

“Good luck getting me to say yes.” you grumble, crossing your arms. You try to be as offish as you could be to get the thoughts out of your head - the thoughts of Jungkook holding a cute baby that possibly looked exactly like him.

A baby with big doe eyes…

A baby with squishy cheeks…

A baby with a wide toothless grin smiling up at you…

Oh fuck, you think. This feeling couldn’t be baby fever. That could not be what you were feeling while watching Jungkook and your nephew - surely not. The last thing you ever wanted was a child - especially not with him. No, you need to push out all the thoughts of that. There’s no way you’d imagine how good of a father Jungkook would be; how attentive and kind and loving - 

You want to gag and your eyes glare at the culprit - Jungkook’s eyes already on you and his lips twitching upward as if he knows what you’re thinking right now.

“Fuck Jeon Jungkook.” you say aloud accidently, fully intending on saying it in your mind and hoping it would telepathy transfer to the man.

“Y/N!” Jungkook only laughs as your mother goes to scold you, your brother following suit.

“Y/N, I have to buy it for her!” Jungkook pleads with wide eyes. “She called me Uncle!”

“Can’t you tell she’s playing you?” you sigh with a shake of your head. “She’s 8. She doesn’t even call me her aunt.”

“Maybe if you bought her a Barbie dream house she would.” Jungkook says, turning his phone around to show you said dream house your niece had asked for at dinner. 

You blink a few times to process Jungkook’s words and then you shake your head once more. “You already bought it, didn’t you?” you ask suspiciously. When Jungkook doesn’t respond, your eyes widen. “You’re unbelievable. How could you let a child play you?”

Jungkook places his phone onto his bed and follows you into the bathroom. “But she called me Uncle…” he trails off. 

“She did that because she knows how soft you are.” you roll your eyes, kicking off your clothes and begin to turn on the shower. “She already has one.”

Jungkook isn’t fazed. “I know. She told me.” he says. “But this one is bigger.”

You should have known Jungkook would fall victim to your niece. She could be sweet when she wanted to, and cutesy. Of course, that was before she ran your pockets dry with whatever doll, dollhouse or slime she desired.

And all she had to do was call Jungkook uncle - she could smell the weak ones a mile away.

“When we have a daughter, Y/N, you can’t be jealous when I buy her things.” Jungkook says jokingly - it’s only done to get a reaction out of you. 

You turn around hastily to glare at Jungkook, body heating up. “I’m not-”

“I don’t want to hear anything else you have to say.” Jungkook interrupts. “Let’s take a shower without you denying me our future.”

Jungkook proceeds to strip as you enter the shower and goes to do the same. “Does the water have to be this hot?” he murmurs. 

“Yes.” you respond without saying anything further. If he wanted to shower with you it was something he was going to have to deal with.

Jungkook stands behind you, hands on your shoulders. He begins to rub them, enjoying how close he gets to be to you. “You have work tomorrow?” he asks after a moment.

“Yeah.” you respond, eyes fluttering close. The water burns heavenly against your skin as Jungkook’s hands work on your shoulders. “I don’t wanna go.”

“You don’t have to.” Jungkook suggests, working his hands to your neck. “We can just stay in bed together.”

You snort. “There you go again trying to get me to leave my job.”

“You constantly talk about the co-worker twice your age arguing with you.”

“Because,” you turn around so fast that Jungkook flinches. “the bitch had the nerve to tell me that I was wrong when I was told to stock the shelves!”

The water is burning Jungkook’s skin and he contemplates if he should have showered with you today - but nonetheless, he places his hands back onto your shoulders, you now facing him. 

“Yeah.” Jungkook nods quickly, because if he didn’t then you’d revert your anger towards him for losing track of what you were saying. “Fuck her. I bet she’s just jealous of you.” it’s always safer to agree with you than disagree.

Your shoulders relax and you close your eyes. Jungkook watches you, just wondering how your body can stand such hot water trailing down your skin.

Naked skin…

Such soft naked skin, gentle to the touch. Warm skin that he loves touching and rubbing…

“Is that your dick against my thigh?” you ask without opening your eyes because you know the answer. 

“I can’t help it.” Jungkook quips. “You look so beautiful…” he trails off, slightly embarrassed that it doesn’t take long for him to get hard.

You open your eyes and look at Jungkook, blinking away the droplets of water. You would usually say something snarky - how obsessed he was with you. But in the end, you and he already knew as such - and he would always agree with your words.

So instead, you smile - a genuine smile that has Jungkook’s cheeks burning and his cock hardening even more.

“You’re so cute.” you tell Jungkook, placing your hands on his chest. You rub up and past his shoulders, to his neck and then his cheeks. You gently pull on them. “So, so, cute.”

“I’m a man.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, but he allows you to tease him as much as you’d like. “Men can’t be cute.”

“Sure they can.” you snort. “You’re cute.” you place your hands on his shoulders once more. “Like a little puppy always humping my leg.”

Jungkook releases a deep laugh at your words. He brings you closer to him, wrapping you into an embrace. 

“I got you a gift.” you say after a few moments of being in Jungkook’s arms. “I hid it under the bed since you don’t look under there often.”

Jungkook hums. “You got me a gift?” he asks. “I wasn’t expecting one.”

“Of course you weren't.” you retort. “You always buy me things…I figured I should get you a little christmas gift.” you say, suddenly nervous.

Jungkook nods his head. “Thank you.” he murmurs. “I got you something-”

“You have to be kidding me.” you groan, pushing away from him slightly. “I told you not to buy-”

“I didn’t!” Jungkook shakes his head hastily, chuckling at your reaction. You had insisted on Jungkook not wasting any more money during the holiday season - even if he never truly listened to you. “I actually made you something.”

You furrow your brows and tilt your head. Jungkook’s not lying, you note. “Made me something…?” you’re skeptical of what Jungkook had made you. He’s artistic you know, very creative in his own right - it was one of the reasons as to why you got him the gift you did.  “Thank you.” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. “My mom’s convinced that I’ll have you running away soon if I don’t treat you right.”

“You treat me just right.” Jungkook hums, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I know how to handle you.”

Jungkook’s hands hold your waist. 

“Besides, I promised your mother that I’ll give her adorable grandchildren-”

“You always know how to ruin the moment, huh?” you grumble. 

“Don’t be like that, baby. I saw the look in your eyes…” Jungkook turns you around, your back to him. He holds you close against his body, hands roaming your own. “...I know baby fever when I see it.”

“Fuck you.” you hiss - that comes off more like a moan. Jungkook’s hands are now groping your breast in his hands, the hot water burning your skin and causing even more arousal to run through you. 

“It’s okay to admit, baby. I think I’d be a hot dad.” Jungkook jokes, his lips on your neck. “But that won’t happen until after we’re married.”

“As if I’d say yes.”

“You will.” Jungkook hums, teeth grazing the skin of your neck. “That won’t be until we’re both ready, though. Until then…”

Jungkook’s hand trails between your legs, fingers rubbing gently onto your clit. His free hand places itself onto your neck to lean your head back against him. “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you.” you moan, Jungkook’s fingers twirling around your clit. He forces your legs apart so he can feel even more of you. “You are, too.”

“Pretty?” Jungkook chuckles, licking his lips. “Thank you.”

“...’want you.” you moan, your hand gripping his wrist.  “Don’t wanna wait.”

“You’re always impatient.” Jungkook snorts.

“We still have the entire night.” you say, removing Jungkook’s fingers from your clit.  You bring Jungkook’s hand towards your lips and bring his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swirls onto his fingers, knowing that the act would drive Jungkook wild. 

Jungkook groans and without warning, presses you to the shower wall. You yelp at feeling the cold tile, but don’t complain. You just needed Jungkook inside of you now.

“You’re so pretty.” Jungkook whimpers, entering his cock inside of you. “So perfect for me.”

Your hands hold onto the tile walls for support as Jungkook goes deeper into you. 

Jungkook shudders, one hand on your waist and the other above your hand on the wall. He starts slow, enjoying the way your pussy takes him so good. There’s something about how tight you always are that drives him crazy - how wet and warm and willing you are for him. He could never get tired of it.

“Feels so good.” you whimpered and it’s enough for Jungkook to pick up the pace. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook presses his lips against your shoulder blades. “I love the way you feel.”

Jungkook plunges deeper inside of you, his only thought right now was to cum and make you cum with him. 

Jungkook’s teeth lightly bite down on your shoulder blade, short breaths releasing from his lips.  He places his fingers back onto your clit - he loves giving you double the pleasure. 

You bite your lips hard - fuck Jeon Jungkook and his hands never staying off of your clit. He always made it difficult for you to remain snippy with him, especially when he fucks you so good. 

As for Jungkook, his fingers never cease their rubbing. There’s something about your moans that often sets him off - to always want to pleasure you until the very end of it all.

Jungkook thrusts into you a little harder; more needily. Over the sound of the running shower water, Jungkook’s thrust is heard. Skin slapping echo throughout the bathroom, the burning sensation of the water he has since grown accustomed to.

“My pretty girl,” Jungkook breaths. “I’ll have to propose to you in the middle of fucking you.”

“Shut-” your words are interrupted with Jungkook removing his cock out of you to crash right back inside, pressing you firmly against the wall.

“Eventually you’d admit just how much you like me, baby. But I’ll never be going away.”

“S-Shut up.” you hiss against the wall, feeling Jungkook’s palm tighten its hold onto your hand. “I do like you.”

Jungkook snorts. “I know, baby.” is all he says before he continues to ram deep inside of you, his focus now fully on cumming - the quicker he did, the quicker he and you could do this again later.

Your walls, so humid and velvety, are preparing to milk him for everything - and he was preparing to give them to you. They twitch around his cock so lovingly and he knows you want him to cum in you like he always does.

“Please,” you whimper, pussy clenching tightly around his cock that Jungkook couldn't help but choke. “please cum in me.”

Jungkook doesn’t know when the last time you begged him to cum in you in such a way, but that didn’t matter to him. He was going to give you what you wanted like he always did; it never took much convincing. He closes his eyes, mind wandering in how full he could make you with his cum.

How beautiful you’d look full of his cum…

How your skin would have a flushed glow to it…

How perfect you would look with a rounded stomach…

“Fuck…!” Jungkook cums the hardest he’s ever had, surprised with himself at his own thoughts of you. He twitches, unable to let you go and fully unaware that his hand that once cupped your waist instead cupped your stomach.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook, Jungkook thinks himself.

Series Masterlist

@minaamhh @suciedad-divina @satisfied18 @y2k5bby @petalsofink @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx @tasha-0795 @busanbby-jjk @joonlover1207 @hollowtree11 @amberpanda99 @parkinglot-nights @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hoseokteardrop @jingerbreadoutofstock @subtaegguk

#ungodly hour #explicit-tae #simp jk #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btswritersclub #bangtanwritershq #btsmasterlist2022 #bts smut #bangtan smut #btswritingcafe #bangtanwriters net #btswriterscollective #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts college au

[hoshigray]

Having thoughts about Toji crushing on a cutie little cinnamon roll. Maybe they go on a few dates before he finally gets her home with him, and just as things are heating up he realizes oh, she’s a virgin. That doesn’t mean he’s not interested, but it changes how he wants to go about it.

Noonie, yeeeeeeeeessss!!! I had the dumbest grin while reading this in my inbox teheheee~ Longer than I intended but what the hell lol hope you like it!!

Cw: dom! Toji x fem!reader - age gap (the reader is at least in their 20s and in college; Toji is around mid-30s) -missionary position - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - ass grabbing - pussy eating - biting (Toji bites your ears) - edging (fem! receiving) - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, sweetheart, mama, princess) - clitoral play - light comedy bc I do[n't] think I'm funny. Wc: 2k

"Ready, baby?"

Your body goes rigid, fingers playing with the hem of your shirred frilled cami romper. A shaky sigh seethes from a wary smile. "Yes." The man in front of you grins before opening the door to his place, and you enter to your doom.

Toji has been courting you for quite some time. It started with small greetings when he visited the café where you work for his usual order of black coffee. Then those greetings slowly evolved into casual chit-chat, prompting Toji to ask you out because he couldn't resist your kindhearted aura.

How could he when his day instantly brightens when you flash your gorgeous smile every time you see him? Or when you always give him a call or text anytime you return to your dorm after hanging outside campus grounds. And when you're done with work, you let him drive and drop you off at your dorm. But that's because he always stays at the café until you get off: watching you welcome customers who enter the space, offering free treats to kids, or giving him a tiny smile from the other side of the shop whenever you catch him staring. Makes him snicker like an idiot.

But his favorite moment with you was the first time you two kissed on your third date. Oh, Toji could replay the scene all fucking day. With your eyes lidded, lips quivering and gripping onto his leather jacket as the man peppered you in kisses, he adored your display of pleasure. And it was even more adorable when you nervously bid him goodnight before entering your dorm room.

It was entertaining how he was the only one that made you — his cute little darling — so shy whenever he came too close. So much so that it turned him on, his desire to have you under him waxing inside him day by day. Except he doesn't, choosing to wait for the perfect time.

And now, when he finally has you where he's been dying to have you, Toji's allowed to indulge in your charm personally. There are shudders of anticipation around him as he kisses you on the couch, his big hands roaming over your form. A deep chortle vibrates his throat when he bites your bottom lip, resulting in a shivering whimper from your swollen lips. Oh, he's going to enjoy every second of this.

But as someone on the other side of the makeout session, you found yourself in an unpleasant position. Not because you didn't want to be here smacking lips with Toji, oh no. He was a great kisser, taking your breath away simply by his lips. No, the real problem was more personal.

Something so personal that it has your brows trench as Toji's hands snake down to your butt, kneading it like putty. Wait a minute...

"Mmmm, Toji, please wa—"

"Shhhh," he hushes you with kisses down your neck. "Taste so good, angel."

Something very personal that your eyes are towed shut when he creeps a hand inside through the bottom of your romper, a warm palm groping the soft flesh of your ass. Wait, wait, wait!

Something extremely personal that you gasp sharply when you feel two fingers sneak past your panties. WAIT!!!

You push Toji off you in haste, and the older man stops with his hands up defensively. He looks at you with confusion, tilting his head to examine what's wrong. You squeak and throw apologies his way. "I'm so so sorry! I'm-I'm just...umm...."

It takes a few seconds for Toji to piece everything together, with the way you're talking in quiet mumbles, your hands fidgeting with your romper again, and your eyes downward to avoid his gaze. His head straightens with eyes slightly wide. Is...Is she a—

"Are you a virgin, sweetheart?" Another muffled squeak confirms his suspicions, and you nod with hesitance.

What were you thinking pushing him off!? If you're gonna have your first time with anyone, why not be the man you're attracted to? But then again, it is YOUR first time!! In humiliation, you cover your face with your hands, the phone call you had with your best friend earlier replaying in your head ("Get it, girl! You either die a virgin or live long enough to get some good dick in your life." "That's the worst way to reference that movie!" "What-the-fuck-ever, go get that dick!!")

You can hear a chuckle from the man, and your eyes shut as you descend further into embarrassment. Oh God, I should've taken my dumbass home so I didn't have to deal with this later and cry myself to—

Your train of thought grinds to a halt when Toji pulls you into his chest. "Oh c'mere, ya cutie." He rubs circles on your back. "Did my lil' angel save herself up fr' me to deflower?"

"No, you perv!" He barks out a laugh above you, not helping this situation. "I just...I-" You try to retort, but the way he looks at you with a sly look and playful grin has your stomach flip. Why's he so goddamn handsome!? "I was just....never ready."

He hums pensively, still rubbing your back. He stays quiet for a while, and you don't bother fixing that while resting on his chest. He doesn't say anything until a minute later. "Think yr' ready now?"

"I don't know? Kinda scared..." You're honest. "But I...I really wanna do it with you, Toji."

"Then, do ya trust me?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, in that case," Toji carefully pushes you off him before he hoists you up bridal style. The swift motion catching by surprise as you hurriedly wrap your arms around his neck before he starts walking. Amused, he kisses your cheek. "Don't worry a thing, princess. Gonna take care of ya real good."

You gulp as your face goes hot. Oh, I definitely should've stayed my ass home...

Yeah, you definitely should've.

Fifteen minutes in, your senses are already clouded by the lapping motions of Toji's tongue on your vulva. You're lying on his bed, your figure writhing and back arching from the commotion between your legs. You tried to contain yourself by concealing your moans, yet your lips let the pornographic noises fly.

The last fifteen minutes have been spent preparing you for the big event. Toji started by fingering your hole, making you adjust to having a foreign limb within you. When you were wet enough, one digit became two, and you grabbed ahold of his shirt as he did his expert work on your soaking chasm.

Now in your nude, you let the man continue to prep you, his hands holding onto your legs with your pussy out for him to see, for him to toy with his wet muscle between your folds and drinking your essence.

"Ahhhh-Haaaah! T-Tojiii," you look so out of it, your head squirming around the pillow beneath you and your words slurred. You've already come two times; what more does this man need for you to be ready? "Oh God, it's too much fer mee, 's too muuch!"

A sharp cry exits your mouth when the man licks your clitoris, his deep forest green eyes peer up to look at you. He snickers, "C'mon, mama, you know I gotta have my girl ready to take in all of me." He flicks his tongue on your bud, and another yelp escapes your lips. "Lemme finish up here, 'kay?"

And he goes back to finishing you up, his hands grabbing you by the hips to bring you closer to his ravenous mouth. You clutch tufts of his raven hair, and his name comes out in incoherent babbles.

Your eyes start to water as your head gets dizzy with the raunchy noises from down south. Your cold sweat contrasts with your hot bare form, and the throbbing sensation between your legs festers under your skin.

Beads of sweat scroll down your forehead. You're close to release. "Hngg! Toji, I'm gonna cu-cummm!"

Suddenly, Toji removes from your legs, leaving you and your pulsing slits to the substituted cold air. You whine for your neglected orgasm that withers away, propping yourself up to beg him to give you what you want. But your breath hitches before you can make a complaint.

Toji is off his bed, withdrawing his shirt and jeans, freeing his cock from his boxer briefs. You can't help but stare at the member before you. Following the trail of hair from his lower abdomen, his erection sprung up with precum oozing out. Compared to your fingers or toys, his dick is way beyond your comprehension in length and girth.

Oh, to die from the first dick you've ever taken. How poetic.

Toji notices you ogle at his shaft, sneering as he returns to the bed. "Like what ya see, cutie?" You chew on your lip when Toji props your legs around his waist, a hand used to position his shaft to your leaky entrance. "Gonna start real slow, so take some deep breaths fr' me, 'kay baby?" You nod, internally bracing yourself for what's about happen.

The head of his cock touches your slit, and you jolt. "Relax, baby. It's gonna hurt if you're tense like that." He coaxes, your breathing securing you from the intrusion. He watches you; with each exhale, he pushes himself. The unfamiliar limb prying in your vagina and the pain you're experiencing is like no other. But you bite down on your lip to push through.

When the tip makes it in, you gasp. Gradually, Toji pushes his member further into you, stretching your tight hole to accommodate his girth. You try to compose yourself with even breaths, but you shriek when you feel his length brush against your G-spot. When the base kisses your cunt, Toji gives you a few minutes to adapt to him. "How ya feelin'?"

"So full..." You look at him with brows scrunched, eyes hooded, and tears streaming down your pretty face.

"Hmm, I bet." He wipes your tears with the rough pads of his fingers before slowly thrusting into you. You grip his shoulders for support, your pussy tightening around his length while your legs cage him. "Oooooh, Christ, you're so tight, mama. Drivin' me fuckin' crazy."

And you're about to be driven crazier when his hips pick up the pace, his dick hitting your sweet spots with precision. It's so surreal finally experiencing your first time, especially with Toji. Maybe it's because he's older and more experienced, but whatever expectations you had up until this point have been blown out of the water. The slap of his pelvis on your slick-coated folds fills his room, his throaty groans sound way too good to the ears, and his hot kisses on your lips make you melt. It all feels so electrifying.

Just when you thought you were undergoing it all, Toji slithers a hand down to your clitoris and swipes up and down on the pearl with his thumb. A choked sob leaves puffy lips, "T-Toji, I'm so close. Please, please, please, let me—Oh God."

"Hnnmph, oh shit—" He's close, too. He bends down to nibble on your ear yet licks the pain away. "I know, sweetheart. Come on me." His thrusts then go faster, a merciless tempo you were unprepared for. Shrieks go higher as your orgasm climbs up, and it hits you hard when Toji's fingers play with your clit again. Your climax sends shivers up your spine, your tender walls pulsating on Toji's cock.

And the older man pulls his dick out of your sensitive cunt, letting his come spill onto your stomach. It looked so lewd yet deliciously attractive, especially with him heaving on top of you with his black bangs sticking to his forehead.

When you two calm down, Toji scans your disheveled appearance and chuckles. "Damn, yr' gonna have me addicted to ya, princess." Your stomach was wiped off with a towel that Toji had on hand as you giggled aimlessly.

"Wanna go again?"

"......yes?" You avoid eye contact and turn away bashfully. He chortles and kisses your cheek once more.

"So fuckin' cute."

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk smut #jjk thirsts #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fic #fushiguro toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #edit: how come y'all aint tell me I used “cock” like 15 times 😭😭😭 #when in doubt whip your cock out amiright hehehe— sorry

[ceilidho]

prompt: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 1.

-

“—are priced wrong. You need to fix that.”

“Hmm? Sorry?” you ask, mind snapping out of whatever fog it’d descended into upon seeing John Price’s truck pull up out front of the grocer. You blink a couple times before focusing on the older lady lined up at your till, her face pinched with displeasure. It deepens when she realizes that you haven’t been paying a lick of attention to whatever she’d just spent the better half of a minute complaining about. 

“The beefsteak tomatoes are priced wrong. They’re supposed to be two dollars a pound—it’s in the catalogue.”

Before you can so much assure her that you’ll certainly honour the advertised price and save yourself the headache, she’s already opening up her purse to pull out the crinkled grocery catalogue, unfolding it across your conveyor belt; it goes out in the local paper once a week with all the sales and rippable coupons, and this isn’t the first time you’ve had someone try to lecture you about discrepant prices (Kate, your manager, is a sweet, gungho lady, that often sends off discount confirmations to the editorial staff of the local paper without informing anyone that actually works in the shop day-to-day). 

From the corner of your eye, you see John slam the door shut on his truck and make his way towards the shop, hands shoved into his pockets. Even from a ways away, the sight of him makes your cheeks redden; his beard’s gotten fuller in the week since you last saw him, clad in even more layers of flannel and tweed now with the fast approach of winter. He looks properly ready for the winter months, with just an air of heaviness present in the lines on his forehead and the tilt of his head. 

You feel your lips slip down into a frown. Helpless, you can only watch in defeat as John lumbers into the grocery store, brushing his hand over his hat to shake off the snowflakes onto the mat by the automatic doors. He picks up one of the baskets by the front door before heading down one of the aisles. His eyes don’t flicker to meet yours so much as once. 

Your shoulders slump when he ducks out of sight before you focus your attention back on the woman in front of you. She’s pointing out the tomato print with the little two dollar sign in the advertisement with a stiff finger, eyebrow cocked like she’s pulled one over on you. You really can’t imagine there being anything less important to you than the price of beefsteak tomatoes, never mind having to refund someone a whole dollar because you inadvertently overcharged them and you happened to get stuck with the one customer that would spend a full thirty seconds reviewing their bill before leaving the shop. 

“See?” she says, the word coming out sibilant and stressed. You blink.

Turning back to the till, you click a couple buttons before the register pops back out again and you pluck up a dollar to hand back to your customer. On the receipt that’s printed out, you hastily scrawl the reason for the refund and shove the seller's copy back into the till. The woman stares at the dollar now sitting on the belt in front of her.

“Of course, ma’am,” you say, a robotic smile stretching across your face. “Apologies for the inconvenience. I’ll get someone to reprice the tomatoes so this doesn’t happen again.”

She doesn’t say anything when she snatches up the dollar along with her groceries and hobbles out the front door, the automatic doors swooshing behind her. With her finally gone, you close your eyes for a second, a private moment just to yourself.

Someone clears their throat from just off to the side. Your heart bursts into a frantic pitter-patter when you open your eyes to find John waiting patiently at the end of your till, his basket filled up with bottles of mustard, gherkins, and other preserves. 

“A paper bag, please,” he says in a gruff voice, like he tousled with sleep just a few minutes ago. It makes your head spin. 

You nod, hardly able to even respond.

Up close, he smells like firewood and smoke, the ever-present cigar usually hanging off his lip nowhere to be seen but still clinging to his jacket and flannel beneath it. The mutton chops of his beard have grown out more than the rest, but his jaw is covered in a layer of fur in comparison to the week previous. John doesn’t really make eye contact as you scan his groceries, almost too tired to raise them from the conveyor belt. Not for lack of respect—it comes off as pure exhaustion. 

You know John as the gruff, taciturn park ranger that comes in once a week to load up on steaks, cold cuts and fresh produce, but in the months you’ve lived in this town, he’s always fresh off work, a little rough around the edges and not quite fit for human interaction just yet. He just grunts and nods when you tell him his total, towers over you and never really makes much eye contact. 

It’s always non-perishables with him these days. At least for the past several weeks, as far as you know. Cans and jars and freezer-ready meals. He doesn’t strike you as much of a prepper, but his order speaks for itself. It’s one of the things you like most about your job—getting to peek into the small crack of life laid bare before you. 

“Getting ready for the winter?” you ask. 

John grunts, eyes meeting yours just briefly before dropping down again. Dark brown. Sometimes you swear you catch the faintest glimmer of gold in them, like a honey glaze, but it’s likely just a trick of the lights. 

“Gonna be a rough one.” 

You try not to shiver at the sound of his voice. It’s not often that you get to hear it; even though you moved into the house next to his almost six months ago, he spends most of his days in the mountains, working up there as a ranger. He comes home after dark nearly every day—not so hard now that the sun sets early on in the day, but even back in the summer you’d spy him coming back from his shift well after dark. 

He’s gotten more heavyset in the last couple of weeks, a comfortable weight to his midsection and arms. Beefier, more solid. When John is in front of you, it’s like no one else in the world exists at that moment; he removes them all from sight and mind. It soothes some of the worry that his constant late coming has stirred up in you, knowing that he’s fed. Not all of it though.

“You know the, uh—” you start, clearing your throat midway through, almost losing your nerve under his sudden attention at the sound of your voice, “—the butter’s twenty percent off this week. I, um…I wasn’t sure if you’d noticed.” You catch his little frown and clarify. “You usually get butter.”

“Thank you, but not this time,” he says gruffly. “Got enough of it in the freezer.”

“Oh…well…” you trail off like you’re going to say something else but you let the conversation fall flat instead. 

He’s quiet the rest of the time as you bag his groceries. John always is. There’s a hurt side of you, silently begging for more, but you’ve watched him enough around town to know that this is just what he’s like. Gruff with the other rangers on the mountain, taciturn after a long day’s work, and sweet as apple pie with the older townsfolk. You’ve seen him help people at crosswalks and more than once he’s footed someone’s grocery bill when they’ve come short. 

Maybe you’re not interesting enough to merit conversation or that same goodwill he extends to others. Not that John has ever been anything less than polite with you, but—your thoughts scatter like birds when you recite his total without thinking and watch him wordlessly as he pays. 

“Thanks, honey,” John says, eyes meeting yours again. “See you next week.” He finally manages a smile, his eyes crinkling under the weight of it. 

You could get lost in his smile if you let yourself. It comes freely but seldomly these days, kept at bay by rough days out in the woods helping lost hikers, ticketing hunters for going over their allotment, and managing the wildlife. But when he smiles, you feel the blood go hot under your cheeks and fight every vision you have of him suddenly leaning across the counter and tipping your chin up for a kiss.

Tongue-tied, you nod. You can’t even force a smile on your face, wide eyes still set on him in wonderment. He doesn’t wait around for you to find your words.

But—you think again wistfully as he turns to leave—it might be nice once in a while. For him to look at you like you’re more than a stranger. 

You mourn your chance to talk to him once he’s out the door, wishing you could call him back. It’s not his fault that just the mere sight of him leaves you tongue-tied. It folds up like a cherry stem in your mouth when he speaks to you and you haven’t yet managed to untangle it in his presence. Maybe someday. 

That’s just life though. 

He’s always made you feel nervous, like a schoolgirl with her first crush, but it’s a safe kind of crush. The kind that feels fun to indulge in because there’s no possibility of reciprocation, like you can just ogle him and pine over him without having to worry about what you’d do if he felt the same way. You mourn the loss of him when he leaves, but like a tender bruise on your knee that you sometimes press just to shy away from. 

The rest of your shift pales in comparison to the eight minutes spent in his presence. Rinse and repeat. Someone else complains about the tomatoes and you write a note for your manager to read the next day. It’ll be her fault if someone finally emails in to complain or takes it to the news; there’s always an op-ed in the papers that’s little more than a thinly veiled bad Yelp review. 

John’s car is outside his house when you make it home at the end of the day, the lights still on inside. You sit in your car and stare at the light hidden behind the curtains. 

It would be nice, you think, resting your head back against the seat, to go up and knock at his door. If only you were braver. You’d march right up, knock on his door, and offer him something to eat. You could do it too. In the six months you’ve lived here, it’s not as though you’ve ever treated him particularly neighbourly. 

You squeak when you see John pull the curtain back and peer out the window, sliding down in the front seat so he doesn’t notice you there.

Maybe some other day then.

#ceil writing #cod x reader #cod mw2 #captain john price #captain price #john price #price x reader #price x you #price/reader #x reader

[sprout-fics]

Valeria Garza Headcanons

I have so many ideas about the queen herself, and I can definitely thank @writeforfandoms and @soapskneebrace for listening to my insane unhinged ramblings about the story concepts I have for this bisexual menace. Have a fic idea I'll never write but is fun to think about:

El Sin Nombre has had a lot of women spend time in her bed. Pretty, seductive, sly women that see the woman with the tattoos and dark eyes, with the brand name clothes and nice cars and think mine

You’re different

Valeria doesn’t pick you up from a strip club or bar, but from something much more mundane, a resturaunt where she sees your boss berating you and somehow decides she’s curious

She asks for you by name, and the next time she visits she does the same. Repeatedly, and each time you wait on her she grows ever more interested in you

You can’t help feeling the same way- this mysterious woman who’s flanked by guards, who always orders top shelf liquor and yet her eyes are not on the food but on you

The proposition she gives you is sudden. Spend a weekend with her. Just one. You don’t have to pay, and she doesn’t expect anything from you either. Just come keep her company

You agree, against your better judgement. Within minutes you’re bundled out to a car in the back alley and driven up to the mountains, to a sprawling villa with tenderly constructed landscaping, tiled hallways and a courtyard with clematis climbing up the lattices. It’s an old money estate, subtle, well crafted. It doesn’t speak of the riches Valeria recently inherited, doesn’t scream gaudy decor or lavish indulgences

It’s beautiful

The weekend that follows is the stuff of dreams. Valeria takes you shopping, buys a wardrobe for you with a signature on a check and a withering glance when you protest the expense. She dines with you in private at the villa in one of your new dresses, and you talk long into the night as the shadows grow long

You wake up the next morning still tangled in her sheets, and it isn’t long after breakfast that you return there…and then the pool…the bathroom…the couch…

By the end of the absolutely dizzying whirlwind of a stay that’s stolen your breath away, Valeria has you in her lap, your hands delicately resting upon her shoulders and she asks 

“What is it that you want? Money? Jewels? A car?”

She expects you to say as much. This is not the first time she’s done this. There’s been a dozen women before you who have blinked down at her and coquettishly requested these things, saw Valeria for her riches and not for the person she was. They long after her lifestyle not knowing of the blood involved, ask for beautiful things and then play games to try and cling on to her just a little longer

Instead, you offer something else, biting your lip in thought and shyly asking:

“Can I spend more time with you?”

Looking back, Valeria thinks perhaps it was that moment that sealed her fate

You do visit her again. Several times a month, and each visit is filled not with the riches of her coffers but with the wealth of her attention to you. You find yourself opening up to the mysterious heiress, knowing nothing of the brutality that lurks behind the tenderness she bestows upon you

She ensures your rent is paid for, always on time, pays off your boss so she can take you for the week, and you visit the coast with her. You try your hand at cooking for her and she has the gall to tease you when the smoke detector goes off. She makes you taste new, strange food and drags you into bed with their taste still lingering on your lips

She pushes catalogs of lingerie into your hands and urges you to buy as many as you see fit, and then has you model them for her

All of them

You call her when your car breaks down, when you don’t have enough to pay for a health appointment, hesitating over the phone before she merely laughs and asks if you think she can’t afford it

You call her in tears when your landlord kicks you out without warning after harassing you for money- pointing to the rich stranger who comes to collect you for days at a time

Valeria comforts you in her room, has you dry your eyes on her shoulder and silently nods to her second in command

You look to her when your things are brought to the villa, and Valeria tells you with little fanfare that she’s moving you in

You also never see your landlord again

She acquiesces when you insist on keeping your job, but reminds you that she can easily provide for the both of you

You never find out where the money comes from, and Valeria likes to keep it that way. If she can keep your hands free of that bloodshed, she will

You’re the thing in her life that’s free from violence, the remedy to the rot, the gentle flicker of a lantern in the darkness of a coffin. She drinks you in like sunshine, a needed cure to the brutality in her

You slowly realize the depths Valeria will go to for you, ad you’d be lying if it didn’t scare you

She locks down the villa after a call too close- a lieutenant of her gone rogue, one who knows far too much about you for you to be safe. You aren’t allowed to leave the villa for over a week, and at one point Valeria vanishes for a full day before coming back. When she embraces you, you can’t help but think she smells like death.

She’s had men killed for less than the offense of threatening you

Yet with you she’s softer. Not gentle, per say. El Sin Nombre will never be gentle. She’ll tease you until you beg, ensure you beg for her until there’s tears, and even then she’ll only tell you “Is it too much, querida? Ohhh, poor thing.”

She’ll bite her marks into your skin, will have you fist the sheets until the only thing you remember is her name. She’ll make sure that even if the world ends, it’ll be the only thing left in you

She’s so damn sensual sometimes it’s hard to breathe. Pushing up against you in the kitchen, her hand rising up under your skirt and her voice undeniably pleased at the little gasp you give her in response

She loves flustering you, will blatantly say something sexual if only to see you splutter. It’s like the act of getting you riled up is a drug itself to her, sinfully addicting and oh so sweet

She takes this perfect life for granted, because one day you don’t come back from your outing

Gone

You yourself don’t know the two strange soldiers that bundle you into the back of a humvee while you’re shopping, tremble in the back of the car while they take you to the Mexican special forces home base and interrogate you over El Sin Nombre, a mysterious and terrifying figure you know nothing about

Until you do

You think a long time ago maybe you would have been horrified, would have gotten on your knees and begged for them to protect you. Now, you have something else to protect. So when Ale and Rudy try desperately to press you for answers you only glare

Then, a messenger, and you hear Valeria’s voice float over the radio. There’s bloodshed and cruelty in the words she gives the Vaqueros, and she promises that she will carve a path of carnage should you not return to her unharmed

“I will burn Las Almas to the ground.” She vows, voice sinister in the low, rasping oath she swears to them. “I will make sure the children that dance on your graves know my name.”

It’s a threat that works, because as much as Ale would rather kill Valeria, the devotion to his home runs deep inside him further still

It’s Rudy who issues a low, grave warning about the woman who has captured your heart, and his words are gentle despite the prophecy he gives you. There’s something mildly resembling pity in his eyes

It lasts for the entire drive until you’re returned back to Valeria’s arms, and you beg her for mercy when she threatens to end Rodolfo’s life for the transgression of touching you

Yet in the aftermath that follows it’s Valeria who cups your face and turns it up to her, asks with gentleness that doesn’t reach her gaze if you’re hurt

You tell her no, you’re unharmed, and that even if you were, you’d suffer a thousand blows if it meant you could once more return to her side

She kisses you there, in front of all her sicarios, holds you close to her and tucks your head into her shoulder

Silently, to herself, she thinks that regardless of riches and wealth, of treasures and the power that comes with being El Sin Nombre, that the most precious thing in her entire empire is you

#valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria x f! reader #valeria x reader #cod mw22 #headcanons #drabbles #my writing #If someone does somehow decide to pick this up I'd appreciate if you could credit me but it isn't strictly required #Thank you!