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captain-lessship · 4 months

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Frozen Over pt. 4

The crowd cheered as you stood on your pedestal, a smile coming to your face. You had seen so many people on other occasions but you were always accompanied by your grandfather, this was different. It was your first step into displaying your own prowess and hopefully gained respect.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the seventy-fifth year of the Hunger Games.” You spoke, your voice sounding everywhere, in the stadium and in the homes of millions of people.

“It was written in the charter of the Games, that every twenty-five years there would be a Quarter Quell, to remind each new generation of those who died in the uprising against the Capitol.” You intended for that last bit to be a warning because by all accounts: it was.

“Many of you may recall that each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of significance. On the seventy-fifth Anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell.” Cheers erupted from the crowd, you could feel their energy and you slowly felt your nerves slip away.

You now reached to the envelope that he had given you, carefully taking the paper from it. You breathed out as you began to read it, “"As a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, on this 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each District.” Your heart dropped, your chest became tight and you found yourself struggling to breathe. Finnick. Finnick would have to go again. Your friend.

You had a job to do. You couldn’t break on live television and give President Snow a emotional victory.

“All Victors will present themselves on Reaping Day, regardless of age, state of health, or any other hinderance. They will compete in this pageant of honor and sacrifice in a glorious fashion, and will compete for the ultimate crown." You forced a smile as the capital citizens cheered. You waved to them as you descended from your pedestal.

You rushed into your house, quickly running up to your room, you slammed the door behind you. It was all catching up to you. He wouldn’t do this intentionally but he was the only one who could let this happen. You pulled at your jacket ripping the buttons off and throwing it to the ground. You went to the wash pitcher and poured the water into the bowel, desperate to get the gold glitter off you.

Before you could shove your face into the cold water, you saw him in your mirror. You turned around quickly. Finnick stood there. Just looking at you. Not a glimpse of judgement, care or compassion. Pure indifference.

“Crazy doesn’t suit you.”

“How did you get in here?”

Finnick stared through you, “It is amazing what you can get when you say you have business. President Snow is also not home, they don’t protect you near as much.”

You straightened your back, “Finnick, I didn’t know.”

“What if I said I don’t believe you?” His expression changed, it was a look one might give to disgraceful traitor.

You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. You couldn’t remember the last time you cried but everything had bubbled back up. How could you not crumble at the look he was giving you? You would’ve preferred him to cut you, stab you, or slam your head onto the floor, anything but the look he was giving you.

“Why are you crying?” The words were absent of comfort. “Nothing has happened to you.”

You rubbed at your eyes, black smudges left behind on your shaking hands.

“If I’d known, I would’ve begged and pleaded for him not to.” Tears came full force.

Finnick walked closer to you, you closed your eyes, fully prepared for him to back hand you like your grandfather had done when you had your, in his words, unneeded outburst.

Finnick had every right to. He was right, nothing as cruel as a second go around in the games would ever happen to you.

But you were surprised to feel a gentle yet firm hand on your face. “What happened there?” His finger tapped over the slightly scarred over cut.

“He hit me.” You said.

“Why?” Finnick asked, genuine worry coming to him.

“You will be upset.”

“I am already upset with him.” Finnick’s other hand came and forced you to look at him.

“I told him that what he has done to you was wrong and that you were my friend.”

You couldn’t look in his eyes, you had already shown so much weakness around him. Snow is not weakness.

“What a terrible man.” Finnick said softly. He took his hands from your face and stepped towards your bowl of water. “Your eye makeup is all over your face.” He said a matter of factly.

“I’m- It’s fine.” You went to rub your face with your hand but a coolness touched your face.

You jolted away from him. His gaze was soft and loving, “Water might not get it off but it will clean the trails on your face.”

You let him bring the cloth to your face, wiping gently. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so genuine affectionate. True that your Grandfather had his shoulder move and you often returned the hugs of your sister but this was different.

You opened your eyes and let them fall to Finnick’s. You had never seen another set like them and you knew you never would. You had seen a million other pair of blue eyes and many a pair of green eyes, but never a mix like his. If you were a poet, you would say they were the product of swirled sea foam, the very same that Aphrodite rose from.

Finnick stared back into your eyes. He always thought that they suited you. Your face was not very expressive but your eyes were, he could know exactly how you were feeling by looking in them. They softened for only certain people, they could cut anyone down. He loved how the ridges in your irises were like the tree lines back home.

You reminded him of home.

Hours passed, You had placed your clothes in your closet and had gotten dressed in your pajamas.

You were comforted as he told you warm stories of home but then he told you how he would be returning for the Reaping. It would take place tomorrow and he noticed how sad it made you so he once again returned a warm hand to your face. You were both sitting on the foot of your bed, you weren’t used to him sitting there with you but it felt nice.

“I wish that they wouldn’t do this.” You said.

“We all know why.” He sighed, “To punish that district…”

“Twelve.”

“Twelve girl.” He finished. “There’s talk of an uprising.”

You grabbed his hand and pulled it from your face, “Be honest with me, are you in on it?”

He was silent. He was silent for a while. “If they asked me to.”

You felt tears again. If you didn’t loose him in the arena, you would surely loose him when the rebellion was discovered.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” He wiped at your tears with his thumb. “Don’t cry sweetheart, it will all work out.”

You just looked at him with the saddest look he had ever seen. He could almost feel his heart shattering the longer he looked at you.

“Finnick, why would think about that?”

“It’s what best for us all.”

“Not for me.”

“Why? Are you that spoile-“

“I love you. I have always loved you. I fell in love with you the first time I saw you, I didn’t know it then but for years, I found my soul yearning for you.”

You sprung up from your bed and backed away from him, “I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Not because I think I am better than you. No! Not that! I am not better than you.I am not good enough for you.”

Tears ran marathons down your face, chasing away your voice from your throat. Heart finally spilling open, you had broken the dam of self restraint.

“Even now, even tomorrow, even next year. I will never be good enough for you! But I was happy having you as a friend. Being your friend might not be what I want but it is what I have! I rather have your friendship than to never have known you.”

He was silent once again. He was looking at you as if you were a ghost.

“Say something! Scream! Yell! Slap me! I don’t care!” You reached on your dresser and flung your eyeliner at him, he hit it from the air. You started throwing more things.

“You coward! Get angry, damn it! Say our friendship is over! Tell me to fuck off!” You shrieked at him.

In a short moment, you had cleared the surface of the dresser. You let out a painful sob as you pressed your back to it and fell to the floor, throwing the last bottle pathetically, not even coming close to hitting him.

“Say anything.” You choked out between sobs. You had kept that inside for years and now that it was out, you couldn’t say felt any better.

“I love you too.”

You stopped in your tracks, “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.”

You sharpened your eyes, inspecting him. You knew his body language, it didn’t appear that he was lying. He took a few steps towards you, eyes looking at you with care.

“Finnick..”

“Don’t you believe me?” He knelt down to your level.

“I do, but we both kno-“

He took your face in his hands and gently kissed you, as if he kissed you harder, you’d shatter like a stained glass window.

He pulled away after only a few seconds, scanning your face for signs of unhappiness. There was none. You just looked at him as you lifted your hand to ghost over your lips, firmly believing that this was a dream.

It wasn’t. He took your hand away from your lips and pressed another kiss, feeling you kiss him back. To you, it was beautiful. Was it beautiful to him too?

#fanfic writing #fanfic #romance #x reader #x male reader #male reader #romantic relationships #eventual romance #the hunger games #thg series #finnick odair x male reader #finnick odair #finnick x reader #the hunger games catching fire #snow!reader #coriolanus snow #president snow

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ransprang · 9 months

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[KO-FI REQUEST]

Hi! Can I request a SFW+NSFW match-up for a male Harry Potter character? I’m afab, pronouns are they/them.

I’d consider my personality to be fairly ambiverted but more extroverted around friends etc. I can be very flirty and and jokey. I have ADHD so sometimes I am spontaneous and that can lead to saying and doing things that get me in trouble although I generally try to abide by rules. I hate conflict so I’m also quite a people pleaser. I’m also more on the pessimistic/cynical side. My hobbies include reading and writing, really anything creative. I love reading and watching fantasy and romance tv and movies. I do have a soft spot for paranormal horror movies too. Also quite a fan of sudokus and puzzles and such.

My type in men is older men (I am 29 so 40s+) but I love long hair, dark hair, loud jokester or quiet stoic type. Body type: just not skinny, honestly. What I hate…being ignored, or feeling ignored or taken for granted. I hate loud noises like fireworks, balloons, thunder etc. enclosed spaces, yelling or general aggression. My most prominent love language is physical touch. But also words of affirmation and gift giving (mostly me giving) I can be very quiet, shy and timid upon meeting. Also I am demiromantic so while I can feel sexual attraction straight away, generally romantic feelings take a long while to form.

I think that’s all. Thank you so much!

thank you @dixonsgirl93 for being our first ko-fi supporter and for letting us post this <3

if anyone else would like a match up this is the link to our ko-fi :)

your match up is..... SIRIUS BLACK!!

SFW

You were quiet during your first meeting with Sirius, so naturally he made it his mission to get a reaction out of you. He tried playing pranks on you, flirting with you just to see what kind of person you were. The first time you replied to his awful pickup lines with one of your own, he was gobsmacked and has been loyal to you ever since.

You both can be quite cynical, and share a similar world view. It’s you both against a dark world, and you wouldn’t have it any other way

Sirius having spent a long time in jail made him not take any of his loved ones for granted. He will shower you with affection as much as possible. If you at any time feel ignored by him just tell him.

Sirius can be a loud man especially when he is angry or getting heated. If he makes eye contact with you while in the middle of being angry at someone else he’ll immediately have a sense of calm washing over him reminding him to lower his voice.

Sirius’s humor has toned down a bit from being a loud prankster in his schoolboy days, but you catch glimpses of it now and then. Whenever you see that maniacal glint in his eye, you know something wild is about to happen.

Some nights you both go on long walks together and stalk Harry. During those walks he turns into a dog and people think you’re crazy for talking to him.

When you guys watch horror movies together he makes sure to scare you during the build up to the pop up scare. He finds it very funny how he always gets you, even if the movie doesn't.

NSFW

Sirius is a touchy man for sure. Random hugs, kisses, touching your hips, squeezing your breasts throughout the day. He does all of this hoping to work you up and get your pussy wet and ready for his fingers.

He would work his charm on you wherever whenever. No matter if you just started dating or have been together for years he’ll use stupid pick up lines on you. Holding you by the waist he’ll bring you closer to his body. He’d make sure both your chests are pressed against each other, so he can feel all of you. He stares into your eyes and lowers his voice, “Is your favorite spell Evanesco? Because every time I see you, my clothes disappear.” He smirks at how confused and flabbergasted you look. With a swish of the wand you are both naked. He groans in pleasure taking in the sight as he pushes you onto the bed.

You can gift him sex toys and watch his eyes grow wide. “Wow love, I didn’t know you were into such things.” He’d gladly indulge in anything you bring to him. It gets him hard knowing that you want him as much as he wants you too. He will immediately try on whatever you get him and start the foreplay.

Sometimes, you enter the room and see him naked, sprawled out on the bed reading a book. He would look up “Finally home? I've been waiting for a long time. Have a seat” as he points towards his cock and chuckles to himself. He keeps the book aside and leans forward to pull you into his embrace as you can feel his hard penis against your bottom. He starts kissing your chest as he works his hands to remove your clothes.

Due to your spontaneity you end up saying what's on your mind, like when Sirius would ask if he looks good in his new coat and you jab back “Please don't rummage through Snape’s closet again.” with a smirk. Sirius laughs “Are you sure you want to say that?” - You chime back “Why not? Did I offend you?”. Sirius’s smile disappears “Looks like a brat needs some taming.” - you raise your eyebrow in confusion “Excuse me?” as he moves close to you till your noses touch. You can hear his breathing. He tilts close to your neck and bites into it as you moan. He carries you up into his arms as he pushes you against the wall. He then uses his hands to push your wrists against the cold hard concrete. You can see a mischievous smile forming upon his lips and he gets to work his magic on your body.

Sirius likes to call you to him randomly, and trace his hands along your silhouette with his eyes closed trying to remember you simply by touch and sensation. His nose picks up on your sweet scent. He opens his eyes and when his gaze meets yours, the animal in him comes alive.

When you straddle him and ride his dick up and down he feels you close up around his girth and digs his fingers into your thighs. You feel a warm feeling rise up your body as you come close to climax and you intertwine your fingers into his long locks and lightly pull as he lets out loud groans. As he goes over the edge releasing his hot thick cum inside of you.

yours magically,

admins sav, sar & san

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sillyrabbit81 · 2 years

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Even If You Don't Mean It - Part One

Summary: An unexpected phone call from a brief fling grows into a new long distance romance.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader

Word Count: Approx. 7.8k

Warnings:

Series Warnings:

Smut including oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, fingering (f receiving), p in v sex, dirty talking, implied masturbation (m and f), anal play, showering together, slight praise kink, mentions of PTSD, descriptions of PTSD, mentions of war, angst, fluff.

Part One Warnings:

Implied masturbation (male), mild discussion of sex, mentions of war, mild angst, fluff.

Authors Note:

So this has been a lengthy saga. I need to thank @amberangel112 and @henryobsessed for their wonderful beta reading and guidance. As always they curb my crazier ideas or encourage me to go further and without them I wouldn't have pushed myself to get this done. I also need to thank @radiantheartbeat for her brilliant and ruthless editing. I have enjoyed working with you immensely, my writing definitely needs some tidying up and I thank you for your honesty and openness and for offering to help me out. I cannot thank you enough.

This story ballooned from a small one-shot to a three (maybe four) part series. I was inspired by a non-Sy moment in the movie Sand Castle. The scene where Harper calls home before the big operation always struck a cord with me. My heart ached for him, and was a glimpse into his private life. The scene made me think, would Sy make a phone call like that? Would Sy ask someone he probably shouldn't be for a promise? Anyway, thats what lead me down this crazy path. I hope you enjoy it.

Divider made by me.

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part 2

2003

4.30am Iraq

6:30pm USA

The phone rings.

Absent-mindedly, you pick up the cordless phone from the dock and put it between your ear and shoulder to keep your hands free.

“Hello?”

Picking up the wooden spoon, you stir the chicken stir-fry, that’s nearly ready, making sure nothing sticks to the pan as you give the vegetables another minute to cook through.

In your ear the line sounds strange; a digital, robotic hum buzzes in the background, like cicadas on a late summer’s day. Perhaps it’s a long distance call from a college friend, something.

A deep male voice, with a hint of a southern drawl, says your name. He sounds hesitant, as if he’s not sure he has the right number.

“Yeah,” you say, “That’s me.”

The receiver crackles, sounding as though the man must have released a held breath. There’s silence for a few beats. Then a few more; no sound except for the drone of the robot bugs. You sigh, wondering if this was a prank call or a wrong number. But that couldn’t be, this person knew your name. Maybe the call was dropped.

“Hello?” you ask irritably.

You impatiently turn off the gas and get a plate from the cupboard. You’re about to hang up, when you hear the man clear his throat.

“It’s Sy,” he says simply.

Sy? You almost drop both the stir-fry and the phone. You think fast, placing the pan on the stove and taking a seat at the small dining table in your kitchen. Gripping the phone in one hand, you quickly bring the waiting wine glass to your lips with the other, gulping down the dry Pinot Grigio and nearly finishing the glass.

“Syverson?” you ask stupidly.

Why on earth was he calling you? He should be overseas. At least that’s what he had told you two months ago.

“Are you home already?” Then you gasp, your hand covers your mouth. Oh my god. What if he was shot or injured? “Did you get hurt?”

“No… uh — I’m in Iraq.”

Images from the fall of Baghdad came unbidden to your mind. You prefer not to watch the news, but these days it is impossible to avoid. Between the 24-hour news stations, newspapers, magazines, or the homepage where you check your email, it was difficult not to absorb at least some knowledge of what was happening in the Middle East; bombings, firefights, IED attacks, and countless other presumed horrors.

It didn't explain why he was calling you though. The two of you hadn't known each other very well. You were barely even friends, having only seen each other a few times before he left for Iraq. You were undeniably attracted to him. To you, he was the total package: ruggedly good looking with his buzz-cut, chiseled jaw, blue eyes to die for, and a tall, powerful, burly physique. The fact that he was a soldier hadn’t put you off either. Your father was a retired marine, and your brother was currently serving, so you knew enough decent military men to not instantly dismiss Syverson.

“Hello?” Sy says.

Shit.

What do you say? How do you talk to him? Why was he even calling?

The one date he had taken you on was good, the make-out session on your couch at the end of the night had been even better. As far as you were concerned, the date went well and you were sure he would ask you to go on another. Over the next few weeks he had called a handful of times, but when he didn’t ask you out again, you assumed that he wasn’t interested. The last time he called was to tell you he was being deployed. He gave you no promises and you offered none in return, knowing what deployment meant, especially during wartime.

“Sorry,” you say with a short laugh, “I’m surprised you’re calling me.”

“Want me to go?” His voice became gruff and guarded, but his tone softens your demeanor.

“No, not at all. I… I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Silence again.

You wrack your brain trying to think of something to say, anything to fill this awkward silence. You don’t know why he’s calling you, but you’re sure he doesn’t get to sit around making overseas calls all the time. You think back to when your father was deployed in the Gulf War, trying to remember what you would talk about. You remember telling him about school, about a new song you heard, you told him boring, everyday things.

You’ve been silent too long and you don’t want the short time he has to be wasted, so you say the first thing that pops into your head, “Hey, remember when we were talking about how I’d never seen Ghostbusters?” You want the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

“Yeah?” You sit up a little straighter in your chair, he actually sounds interested.

“Well, I watched it a few weeks ago.”

“Ya did?” His voice became lighter, as though he were smiling.

“Yeah, it was on TV,” you say, smiling, “I sort of understand why you had a crush on Sigourney Weaver back in the day.”

“Hell, Sugar, you ought to see her in Alien.” Sy whistles, “She is fine.”

“I saw Alien: Resurrection,” you laugh, “She’s still looking pretty good.”

“She’s great in that, but ya gotta watch Alien. And Aliens as well. Ya can probably give Alien 3 a pass though.”

“Ok, I’ll put those on my list then.” Shit, there goes that topic. You quickly try to think of something else. “Oh my God! Have you heard they’re making an Alien versus Predator movie?”

“You’re kiddin’,” Sy says, “Really?”

“Yeah, I can’t decide if it will be awesome or terrible.”

“It could be awesome. The Xenomorphs will fuck shit up,” Sy says confidently.

“But the Yautja had a Xenomorph skull in the ship at the end of Predator 2, so we know they hunt them.”

From there the conversation between you both simply flows.

You go back and forth, each arguing for your side and gently ribbing the other in jest. The conversation is easy, as comfortable as it had been when you went on that date.

“Yup,” Sy says in an altered tone. It’s short and cold, and noticeably different, you realise instantly that he isn’t talking to you. Your father has a similar tone.

“Give me a minute,” Sy adds in his work voice.

No, not his work voice, that’s his Captain’s voice. Your heart flutters. Christ, that’s hot. The subtle air of authority in his baritone makes your knees weaker than you care to admit.

“I gotta get going, Sugar,” Sy says.

“Yeah, of course.” There is a sinking feeling in your belly, you don’t want him to go yet.

More droning bugs. This silence is short though and not as awkward. Progress.

“I don’t know when I can call ya again,” Sy says apologetically, as if you were expecting this phone call in the first place, let alone more in the future, “I’d like to, when I can — that is, if you want me to.”

“Sure.” You giggle a little, thinking about your conversation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask you how you were or anything. Just talked your ear off about a stupid movie.”

Sy hums, “No, Sugar, it was...” you hear him take a deep breath, “it was exactly what I needed.”

You shift in your seat as a feeling of pleasant warmth radiates through you, “Well then, next time, I’ll give you a review of Freddy versus Jason.”

“Hold on, now! Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees? They made a movie ‘bout that?”

“Like I said, next time,” you deliberately tease.

Sy chuckles. It’s a short laugh, more indulgent than amused, but you’ll take it.

“I look forward to it, Sugar. Bye now.”

“Bye, Sy.”

The phone goes silent.

For a while you sit looking at the receiver in your hand with a mixture of happiness and confusion. Was he just bored? Did he try to call other people and they weren’t available? Did this mean he liked you like you had originally thought? Will you have to wait another three months before he reaches out again? Maybe he does this to all the girls, calling them while he’s away to make them feel special so that when he comes home he doesn’t have to work so hard to get with them.

Shaking your head, you admit you can’t possibly know why he called. No amount of guessing or theorising would answer that question. Finishing the wine in your glass, you pour another before finally eating your stir-fry.

It’s a little cold, but you don’t mind.

About two weeks later Sy phones again. You’re in bed, comfortably reading, thinking about letting the call go to the answering machine as you normally would this late at night, but ever since Sy’s phone call, you rarely let the machine take them.

“Hello?” you ask, feeling a little silly when you hear the hopeful note in your voice.

“Hey Sugar,” Sy says, and your mood soars.

“Sy! Oh my God! How are you? What’s been happening? It’s good to hear from you,” you gush.

Sy chuckles, and although you feel a little embarrassed by your obvious excitement, you’re pleased that he seems happy.

“I’m glad I caught ya,” Sy says, “I’ve been curious about this Freddy versus Jason thing. Can’t stop thinking ‘bout it.”

“It’s just a movie, Sy,” you laugh, “It’s a good movie, but it’s no Citizen Kane.”

“Maybe not, but I’ve been lookin’ forward to hearin’ you tell me all about it.”

“Oh,” A warmth spreads over your cheeks at the playful way he emphasises those last few words, making them suggestive and flirtatious. You swallow hard as your words get caught in your throat and manage to rasp out, “Um, ok.”

Over the next couple of months, Sy calls you regularly, usually two or three times a month. The calls aren’t long, ten or fifteen minutes at most, but you look forward to them like a kid looks forward to Christmas. After each call you’re on a high for a day or two, replaying the conversations in your head. When that thrill wears off, you start to think about the next call you'll have with him and the excitement builds anew.

“Are you seein’ anyone?” Sy asks during the fourth or maybe fifth call.

The question seems to come from nowhere, but you’re relieved because maybe he will give you an idea of why he’s been calling you. Is this just friendship? Are you just a person to anchor him to normal life, someone to talk to so he can have a break from whatever it is he’s seeing and doing over there? Or is there the potential for more?

“I’m not dating anyone.”

Sy falls into silence and the robotic hum is back. Although you always do most of the talking, he hasn’t gone this quiet since your first call. Maybe he’s expecting you to say something else.

“Are you?” you ask with trepidation. What if he says yes?

“No, Sugar,” Sy chuffs and you feel a rush through your body as your heart pumps faster, “Now, uh, tell me more about this car you’re thinkin’ of buyin’?”

Months pass by and nothing changes. This thing between the two of you is never discussed and you’re mostly okay with it. Sure, when you think of him your stomach flips and you can’t concentrate, but you enjoy his calls, and you tell yourself that his friendship is enough.

One call seems to change everything. Sy is about to hang up when he asks you a question.

“Hey, before you go, I wanted to ask you a favour.”

“Sure. I can try.”

There’s a beat of silence while you hold your breath.

“Will ya send me a picture of yourself?” Sy asks.

Your eyes widen.

“A picture?” You shift awkwardly on your couch, bringing your knees to your chest, “What kind of picture?” you ask with a shake in your voice.

“Whatever you want, Sugar,” Sy says lightly, “One from your birthday, maybe from a party, or weddin’, or somethin’. I'll take anythin’.”

“Oh,” You let out a giggle of relief, “Oh, I can do that. I thought you meant…” Heat burns your ears, you aren’t going to finish that sentence.

“Thought I meant what?” Sy asks before suddenly barking out a laugh, “Oh, no. No, I didn’t mean a picture like that,” He pauses and while he still sounds amused, his voice lowers, “I wouldn’t say no though.”

“Well, I will say no, to that kind of picture,” you say, still thoroughly embarrassed by your misinterpretation, and a little shocked. It’s the first time he’s really flirted with you.

“Cain’t blame a man for tryin’,” Sy jokes.

“But, I will send you a nice one, if you send me one of yourself too.”

“Deal. Now, ya got a pen handy? I’ll tell you how to get it to me.”

The next day you look through the last couple of rolls of film you developed, and check the images on your new digital camera. There is one photo you like, taken at a game of putt-putt, but it’s casual and you aren’t dressed up. It’s a candid shot, you’re laughing and half looking at the camera while lining up for your putt. You decide to send that one, along with a picture you'll take this weekend when you go out with friends.

On Monday, you place the photos in a box along with the latest edition of Rolling Stone, a book, some pretzels and trail mix, hot sauce, a foam football, and some socks that your brother said all the guys were raving about. You wonder if it is too much, if it’s crossing a line, but your brother assures you that Sy will love it.

Nearing the end of the conversation with your brother, he becomes serious, giving you the third degree, and warning you that those Special Forces guys are a different breed.

“They’re gone six to nine months of the year just for training when they're not deployed. On tour, he could be gone anywhere from six months to two years. They frequently won’t be able to tell you where they’re going. Communication is difficult, coms black outs are common. I don’t know this for sure, but they seem to move more than we did growing up.”

“Are you saying I should stay away?”

“No. I’m just giving you the facts. You have to decide if he’s worth the price you’ll have to pay. Being alone and waiting isn’t easy, you saw how hard it was on Mom.”

He’s right, you know that. But the way your hands start to shake, and the way your mouth goes dry whenever you hear the phone ring, that can’t be ignored.

“We’re just talking,” you retort. “He’s never said he wants more than that anyway.”

“You know I love you. You’re my little sister. But, if you think he’s calling you every week…”

“Sometimes every two weeks,” you correct him.

“Fine, every two weeks,” You can practically see him rolling his eyes, “If you think he’s calling you that often because he wants to be your friend, then you’re a dumbass. He’s interested in you. He’ll ask you out at some stage, you wait and see.”

The call with your brother leaves you in a strange headspace. Part of you wants more from Sy too. Well, a large part of you wants that, but your brother's warning has got you all tied up in knots. Even if Sy does want more than friendship, would you be able to deal with that? Truthfully, you don’t know.

You stare into the shipping box, feeling like it’s missing something. Other than the photos, there’s nothing tangible of you in there, and it feels too impersonal. You think a letter might be nice, you’ll make it short and keep it light, just like your phone calls.

Dear Sy,

Forgive me if I’ve overstepped by sending you some gifts. I know my brother always loves getting packages from home, so I hope you do too. He recommended the socks, and hopefully the recommendation of a Jarhead is okay with you. Haha!

I can’t wait to hear from you again. I’ve really been enjoying our phone calls. I was thinking that I could keep writing to you too, if you’d like, and maybe send you some more magazines or snacks. Next time we talk you'll have to give me a few ideas.

I bought two copies of the book I sent you. I thought it might be fun to both read it so we can talk about it together. Maybe that’s silly. I don’t even know how much time you have to read. I don’t even know if you like reading, or if you do, what kind of books you like. But, I’d like to know Sy. I’d like to know those things about you.

Take care.

You sign the letter with just your name, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you throw it in the box, tape it shut and take it to the Post Office.

When you check the mailbox a week later, you see a small white envelope with your address handwritten in a small, narrow, but neat, script. You quickly turn it over and see that it’s from Sy.

It’s embarrassing how quickly you race to get inside your apartment. With shaky hands you unlock your door, dump your bag on the floor, and try to get comfortable on the couch. You’re too excited, your body tingles with goosebumps, and your fingers tremble.

He touched this, you think, he wrote this for me, this is his handwriting.

You carefully open the envelope, peeling back the flap slowly, watching as the glue pulls away in strings before it snaps apart. Inside is a photograph and what looks like a letter on white paper with faded blue lines.

You pull out the picture first. It’s a headshot and it’s a little blurry, but it still takes your breath away. Sy is wearing a dark brown shirt with a green and black scarf wrapped around his neck. He’s staring into the camera. His brows are drawn together in a serious expression. He looks different to the way you remember him; his face is a little slimmer, and the beard is new. You didn’t think they were allowed to have beards.

All at once you remember the night he took you on that date, and you subconsciously draw your thighs together. Looking at his short hair, you remember how it felt, soft like velvet as you ran your hand over it when you kissed. He was so warm, his skin was almost hot to the touch as your hand had caressed his neck.

You wonder if he’ll have the beard when he comes back. You wonder what his kisses would feel like with the beard. His lips had been smooth and strong. Would his beard prick at your lips? Would it chafe at your skin like a five o’clock shadow, or will its length make it softer? Would its coarseness add a layer of sensory pleasure that you haven't felt before?

Knowing that those kinds of questions will only lead you down a path of distraction, you put the photo down, and take out the letter. You have to read it several times before it starts to sink in.

Sugar,

Sorry about the quality of the photo, I didn't have many options. I got it from one of my team, he took pictures of all of us a few months ago before we left the city. If I don’t look impressed, it’s because I wasn’t. Thought it was a stupid idea, but I’m glad I let him take it cause now I can send it to you myself instead of asking my sister to send you one. Although, if you want a better one, I can ask her.

I want to thank you for talking to me. You didn’t have to, and I don’t know how to tell you how much I appreciate it. Talking to you has been just what I’ve needed. Remind me to tell you about the other girl who’s keeping me sane this tour, she’s a little smaller than you, much hairier, barks when she’s hungry, and answers to the name Aika.

I also want to apologise for not spending more time with you before I left. I was an idiot, an asshole really. I wanted to, it’s only that I was leaving and thought it would be better that way. I regret that now, I should have made more effort and not been

There’s more I want to say, but I want to say it to you in person. For now, I want you to know that I look forward to speaking to you, just thinking about it makes me smile, and more than once I’ve been caught thinking of you by my guys.

I’ll call you real soon and I look forward to your photo. I’m laughing now, thinking of how cute you must have looked, all embarrassed, when you thought I was asking for a dirty picture. I remember how cute you looked when I kissed you that night. I think about that sometimes. I think

Thank you,

By the time Sy calls you again, you must have read his letter a hundred times and looked at his photo twice that amount. You keep both on your nightstand, committing his words and image to memory before you sleep each night, strengthening your recall whenever you think of him.

“I gotta make this quick, Sugar. I ain’t got much time, but I got your package today and had to thank you,” Sy greets you.

“Yeah? You got it? Is it ok that I sent you the other stuff? I wasn’t sure. If you don’t want any of it, you can give it away. I don’t—”

“Hell no, baby! I ain’t givin’ any of it away,” he sounds a little outraged at the suggestion, “I love everythin’ you sent me,” his voice softens and you would give anything to see his face, “You’re just as gorgeous as I remember.”

You smile and you feel your body heat up. You’re glad he can’t see you right now, you would barely be able to look at him.

“Sy…” you murmur. “I, uh, thank you. That’s sweet.”

“Ain’t nothin’ sweet about it. It’s the truth.” Sy chuckled. “And you sent me two photos. And all the other things. Not gonna lie, darlin’, I feel a li’l spoiled.”

You laugh, feeling a little uncomfortable. Not because of anything Sy has said, but rather it’s your brother's advice that plays on your mind. You change the subject, first asking him about the book and if he wants to do a read-along. He does. Then you ask if he wants you to send more packages. He does. However, it takes a while for him to admit it, he doesn’t want you to go to any trouble.

“I should be the one buyin’ you things, and givin’ you surprises,” There’s a hint of flippancy in his tone, but not much, “Takin’ you out somewhere nice to eat.”

Oh. Maybe your brother was right.

You laugh it off, “It’s 2003, Sy, women can pay for themselves.”

“I’m serious, Sugar. No woman of mine would be buyin’ me dinner.”

Woman of mine? Did he even realise what he just said? Or was he just speaking in a general sense?

“Well, I’m not trying to pay for dinner. I just want to send you some more magazines and socks.”

“You’re a sweet thing ain’t ya?” Sy says and his words set fire to your cheeks. “You takin’ the time to talk to me is more than enough.”

“What if I send you another picture with each package? I'll—”

“Deal,” Sy interrupts and you giggle.

Sy laughs, it’s a little teasing and you think about the last paragraph of his letter, the part that until now you haven’t wanted to acknowledge. You two have grown comfortable with each other, and a little light flirtation at this point of a relationship is natural, even for friends. You’re both testing the boundaries, seeing what you can get away with, probing for the potential of more. But, even so, you still aren’t sure you want to go there with Sy because there’s too much to unpack, so you redirect and ask him about Aika.

“Should I be jealous?” you ask with faux petulance. Shit. You aren’t supposed to be flirting back.

“Maybe,” he concedes, “She makes me smile almost as much as you do.”

You fall into silence, dropping your head with a grin. Fuck, you do want him to flirt with you. You can hear him breathing, suddenly heavy, and so loud that the robotic buzz is drowned out, and you like that too. When he speaks again, his voice is husky and deep.

“I’ll bet you’re smilin’ right now, ain’t ya, Sugar?”

“Sy…” you say softly. You’re more than just smiling, your body tingles and your heart beats so hard, you can feel it in your toes.

“Yeah, you are. You don’t have to tell me, I can hear it in your voice.” He makes a noise in his throat, like a groan, “I gotta go. I… Things are a li’l crazy ‘round here right now. It may be a while before I can call you again.”

“Okay,” you say, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice, “Sy, I…”

“Yeah, baby?”

You shouldn’t say it. It’s on the tip of your tongue. You know you aren’t going to be able to stop yourself, because you want him to know. So much for working through how you feel about him later. Your heart already knows, it’s just taken your brain a little while to catch up.

“I think about that night we kissed too,” you whisper, referencing his letter.

He makes that noise again. You wonder if it’s the same noise he made in your ear that night and your spine feels like jelly.

“I gotta go,” Sy says so softly, you barely hear him, “I’ll be thinkin’ about you.”

Before you can say goodbye, the line goes dead.

It takes a while before you feel like you can move. You hold the phone tightly in your grasp, not wanting to let it go, because you fear if you do, you’ll forget the sound of his voice.

It’s over a month since you've heard from Sy. You know he said he was going to be busy, but after the second week of not hearing from him, you begin to doubt. You question everything, you stop reading his letter and looking at his picture. You remind yourself that he is on the other side of the world, and you remind yourself to protect your heart.

By the fifth week you’ve almost convinced yourself that he’s finished with you. You were just a distraction, a way for him to pass the time; a warm female voice to drown out the sounds of the cold men he dealt with daily.

What really messes with your mind is that even if he’s not calling because he doesn’t care about you, you’re incomprehensibly okay with that. You’re okay with it because it means he’s alright, it means he’s safe. He’d be a complete asshole, but he’d be fine. You can’t stand to think about other possible reasons for his silence.

When the phone rings, late on Sunday morning, you’re still in bed catching up on sleep. No longer do you answer the phone with your heart in your throat, indifference is all you can manage. It’s probably just your mother anyway, calling to remind you about meeting her for lunch.

But as soon as you raise the receiver to your ear, you know it’s him. The line crackles with the same robotic humming that you thought you’d never hear again.

“Sy?” you whisper, or at least you try. Your voice sounds strangled, even to your ears.

Blood roars in your head, from anger or relief you can’t tell because you feel both. You open your mouth to tell him you hate him, tell him you miss him, tell him you’re glad he’s okay. But you don’t. You slam your mouth shut, you keep it inside, you don’t want to give away too much. It was too painful after last time.

So you wait. As the silence stretches, the strange pulsing static of the line grows intolerable, and you begin to worry. Is this even Sy? Are you hearing things because you desperately want it to be him?

Then he clears his throat, a short cough that sounds wrong. As soon as he speaks you know something isn’t right.

“Hey, baby,” he sounds tired, but not just tired, depressed. Oh my God, what happened?

“Hey, Sy,” you say gently.

You want to ask him what’s wrong, you want him to tell you what happened, but you know he won’t. In all the time you’ve been speaking to him he hasn’t told you a thing, he hadn’t even mentioned Aika until his letter. You don’t take it personally, you knew next to nothing about your father’s or brother’s deployments. Sy may not even be allowed to tell you anything, that’s just the way things are in most military units. Still, after all these weeks, he must be calling you for a reason, you just can't put your finger on why.

“You never call me at this time of day, Sy. Are you okay?” you prompt lightly.

Sy sucks in a breath. It’s been so long since you saw him in person, and you can’t remember what he looks like when he does that. You wish you could remember. You wish for so much.

“I needed to hear your voice, Sugar,” he says softly, and your heart stutters as his reason for calling emerges. He’s speaking so slowly that his accent has become thick, and his voice is so heavy that it flows like syrup into your ear, “It's been too long.”

“You’ve been busy, huh?” you say, surprised at the lack of bitterness in your voice. You can’t bring yourself to be upset any more, not when he sounds so awful.

Sy hums in what could be agreement. He’s quiet for a while and you wait, hoping he’ll say something before you tear your hair out in frustration.

“When I—” Sy starts, then stops, and it takes a few moments for him to speak again, “I think about you, Sugar. A lot. More than I probably have a right to.”

You don’t know what to say. After all this time, are you finally going to have an honest conversation about your relationship? Are you going to talk about where this is going? If it’s going anywhere at all?

“Will ya do somethin’ for me?” He asks.

“Sure,” you say, “If I can.”

“Will ya tell me that you’re waitin’ for me? That you’ll be there when I get home?”

You’re a little taken aback, so you hesitate in answering. You think about the last month, the pain of not hearing from him, and the constant worrying. This is what a relationship with Sy would look like more often than not, irregular communication for months or years at a time. Is that what you want? Was he worth it?

“I won’t hold ya to it,” Sy says, “I just—”

“Sy—”

“Fuck, forget it—”

“Wait—”

“I shouldn’t’ve asked—”

“Sy, stop!” you say firmly, “Just stop,” Sy stops talking but he’s still there, you can hear him breathing, “I’m not going to say something like that just because you ask me to.”

“I know, I—”

“Would you let me finish, Sy?”

He grunts, low and guttural, his frustration as evident as yours. You wish you could see him. You wish he could see you. You don’t know if you have the right words to tell him how you feel, but you try.

“I want you to know that if I say something like that it’s because I really mean it. I don’t want you to doubt it, and if I tell you that now, like this, you will.”

The silence from Sy feels heavy, the dead air is thick with unspoken words. Your gut twists as you think of him alone, obviously going through something, and he reaches out to you, only to be rejected. But that’s not what you mean, and you need to let him know that.

“Can I tell you some other things? Some things you’ll know are true.”

“Please,” he murmurs.

“I can tell you that after we speak, I smile for hours, days, weeks,” your voice quivers and you take a deep breath. He doesn’t need your tears. “I think about how you laugh and how wonderful that sound is.”

You wonder what he’s doing in this moment. How is he sitting? Is he laying down? Is his head in his hands? Is he petting Aika? Is he alone? Has he showered? Can he shower? Is he wearing the socks you sent?

You want to comfort him, you want to tell him that it’s going to be ok, but you know you can’t. He knows you can’t promise him that. What do you say when you don’t know why he seems to be in so much pain? You don’t know what he could possibly need from you.

The truth. You tell him your truth.

“And I smile because for those moments that we’re talking, I’m not worried about you. I know you’re safe.”

You hear him expel breath into the phone. The speaker crackles and shudders, or is that him? Is he crying? Is he okay? You wish…

“I wish I could see your face when I talk to you. I wonder what it looks like when you say certain words or speak in a certain tone. I’d like to know what you look like when you’re quiet. Like now, I want to see your face so bad.”

“Me too baby,” his gravelly voice is throaty, his drawl is so strong.

“I want to see you when you get home, Sy. I do. I’m not making any promises, but I like you... a lot. I've liked you from the start. You’ve kept me at arm’s length though, and that just isn’t going to work for me.”

“Because I knew I was leaving,” he repeats the excuse he wrote in his letter, but his tone makes you wonder if he's not trying to convince himself more than you.

“When are you comin’ home?” you ask softly.

“Officially, my tour is up in a few weeks,” Sy’s voice is stronger now, more like what you’re used to, “But after what went down…” More silence, “Could be tomorrow, or six months from now.”

Six months. Or tomorrow. Or…

“Keep calling me, Sy. Or write if you can’t call. Do you have email where you are? Send me an email, even if it’s just one line.”

“I will, but I can’t email. There’s no internet at this camp.”

You hear him breathe in, long and deep. Then you hear that noise again, that deep rumble in his throat. Your thighs clench together and your face heats up.

“Sy, what are you doing?” you ask, just above a whisper.

“Right now? Layin’ on my bed. Just… thinkin’.”

“Yeah? What are you thinking about?”

Sy chuffs, “Not what, who.”

“Who are you thinking about then?” you ask innocently, not realising until too late what he means.

“You,” Sy says, and his voice takes on that low husky tone. Your thighs rub against one another, you can’t stop them, “I’m always thinkin’ of you— You wanna know what I’m thinkin’ about?”

“I don’t know,” you swallow, feeling breathless, “Do I?”

“How ‘bout I tell ya one thing I’m thinkin’ about, then you can tell me if ya wanna hear more.”

You want to know. You want to know if he’s having the same thoughts as you.

“Okay,” you murmur, and restlessness sinks deep into your bones. Your body is so hot, and you already feel the wetness ebbing from your center.

“I’m thinkin’ about that night I took ya out. Thinkin’ about that dress ya had on... God, you were so pretty. All night I wanted to kiss you.” He pauses, and you hear that sharp inahle again, “Then we went to your place and— fuck, baby, you really let me kiss you.”

“I liked that,” you tell him as you sigh, and he makes that noise that keeps driving you wild, “I liked you kissing me.”

“That’s good, baby,” Sy says, “That’s what I want... to make you feel good.”

“You did, Sy.”

“I wanna do that again. When I come home, I’m gonna kiss you just like that,” Your body heats even more at his suggestion. Would you let him kiss you again?

“I want that too, Sy,” you say firmly, despite your trembling voice, “I really want you to kiss me like that again.”

Sy hums, his deep voice rumbles in his throat, “Whenever I imagine that, making you feel good, it doesn’t stop at kissin’, Sugar.”

He just says it, a little tentatively perhaps, like he’s testing your reaction, but he just admits he’s thought about being intimate with you. And from the way he says it, he’s thought about it often.

“Do you wanna know more, or should I stop?”

You let out a small noise, like a squeak. You hope he knows that means yes.

“Where are you?” he asks. Is that a grin you sense in his voice?

You look around, like you've forgotten your location in this universe. God, he truly makes your brain shut down. He makes you stupid in the best possible way.

“Actually… I haven't gotten out of bed yet.”

“Shit,” Sy groans, drawing the word out.

His reaction makes you bold, and although your heart thunders, you close your eyes, and manage to speak, “I’m still in my t-shirt, the one I wear to bed.”

You hear him swallow, “Anything’ else?”

“Just my panties,” you barely breathe.

“Fuck,” Sy groans again. “You’re makin’ it really tough for me not to grab my cock right now, baby.”

“Oh,” you say on a long exhale, because you feel like you have to say something.

What you really want to say is: do it.

“Why don’t you?” you add quickly, squeezing your eyes shut in mortification.

Sy is quiet, all you hear is his quickening breaths. “Do ya want me to?” he asks, his voice is hoarse and breathy.

“Yes,” you admit. God, you’re shaking, your hands are trembling.

The speaker fills with static as he breathes out. “God dammit, I wanna touch you so bad. You gonna touch yourself too, Sugar?”

Shit. Oh shit. You weren’t expecting that. You’re definitely in the mood, but this is still too new and you’re insecure. You’ll probably end up replaying this moment later and cursing yourself.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Too much?” he says hoarsely, but gently. There’s no anger in his tone.

“I… I feel like I want…,” you don’t know how to explain yourself.

“Tell me, Sugar. It’s ok, tell me what you want.”

“It just feels… strange, to do this on the phone for the first time, instead of together, in person.”

Sy hums mulling it over, “But… you would want that?”

You don’t say anything. What can you say? You’ve just teased the hell out of him and now you feel like an ass.

“How bout we save all that ‘til we see each other again?” Sy suggests.

“I feel bad.”

“Nah,” Sy laughs, “I’ll just wait until ya hang up to finish.”

“Sy!” you exclaim, but you laugh along with him.

You talk for a few more minutes before you tell him that you have to go, “I’m meeting my mom for lunch. I’m already going to be late.”

“Yeah, I should go too. I’ve used every privilege I have as an officer, and some I don’t, to get the phone for this long,” He pauses and becomes serious, “I know what you said earlier, but… will ya do me a favor?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me if you start seein’ someone.”

“I’m not going to start seeing anyone, Sy. I’m not sure where this is going with us, but I’m not about to throw it away either.”

Sy calls you more frequently now, usually once a week. There hasn’t been another call like that one, but you feel as though your relationship has changed again. It’s subtle, but tangible.

Sy says things like, “When I get back, we should see that,” or “I’d like to take you there when I get home.”

Tentative promises are made, and restrained flirtations are thrown around. You tell him you think about him, you tell him sometimes you want to see him so bad you ache. He tells you he wants to see you, he wants to kiss you; he hints that he wants you to be his, but the line you established on that earlier call is never crossed.

You both send more packages, more photos, and more letters. Sy sends you a picture with Aika, in it he’s wearing sunglasses, shorts, and a red shirt. He seems bigger than you remember. So broad in the chest. You wish he’d have taken the glasses off though, so you could see his handsome face.

Then the day finally comes, the day when he tells you he’s coming home. At first you can’t process it, like you had accepted that Sy was just a disembodied voice, not something to see, or touch, or smell. Then, as he lays out the process of returning home, you start to believe.

“I’ll really get to see you? In two weeks?” You ask incredulously.

“I’ll be all yours for thirty days. No work, nothin’.”

“What about your family?”

Sy grumbles, but you can tell he’s putting it on, “I suppose I’ll have to go see them for a few days.”

“Yeah, you should,” you say, smiling.

“Will ya come with me?” he asks.

“Sy…” You can’t fault his tenacity, “Let’s see how things are between us first?”

“There ain’t no way we won’t work,” Sy says, “I've never wanted a woman like I want you.”

“That’s only because you’ve had to wait over a year.”

“That ain’t it, baby,” Sy says seriously. Then his voice lowers, getting so gravelly he practically growls, “That’s why I’m so fuckin’ horny... but that ain’t why I want to be with you.”

As it always does when he talks like that, a fire ignites in your gut and radiates through you, heating your blood until you feel hot all over. You can’t imagine how it will feel to have him touch you and talk to you like that. You shiver just thinking about it.

You want to ask him why he wants to be with you, but he diverts the conversation and tells you he has to get you clearance to visit him. Sy lives on base, and he says it’s easier for him to pick you up to bring you to his place.

“Less paperwork,” he explains.

“Don’t you want me to meet you when you arrive?” The party atmosphere of homecoming was one that soldiers usually look forward to. If he doesn’t want you there, maybe he’s not as serious about you as you thought.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about that. As much as I want you to be there,” Sy makes a noise like he’s sucking in air through his teeth, and says amused, “I don’t think you’d wanna meet the guys that way.”

“Yeah ok, good point,” you concede with a laugh. The thought of meeting his group and their families in an atmosphere like that is a bit intimidating.

“We’re plannin’ a barbeque for a couple of weeks after we get home. I’d like to take ya with me, and you can meet the guys then.”

“Sounds like a much more relaxed way to meet them.”

“Good,” Sy says, sounding pleased.

“Shit, I’m nervous just thinking about it.”

“What?! Meetin’ the boys? Baby, they love you already.”

Your eyes widen, “You told them about me?”

“I didn’t say anythin’, they just figured somethin’s up. Been a few comments about my mood having improved this deployment, and the packages I’ve been gettin’, and how they wanna meet the girl that keeps makin’ me smile.” Sy chuckles.

Your cheeks burn, but it's a pleasant feeling and you smile widely. You like hearing that he’s happy.

“Okay.” You don’t know what to say, so you steer the conversation back to his homecoming. “Will Aika be coming home with you?”

“Yeah,” Sy says and you can hear the joy in his voice. “She’ll be quarantined for three months though.”

“Oh, that’ll be tough,” you say sympathetically. “You’ll miss her.”

“I will,” Sy agrees. “But I’ll have you.”

God damn him. Four words and he renders you speechless again.

“Baby? Are ya still there?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking,” you scramble, trying to remember what you were talking about. “Oh, yeah. So, if you’re coming to get me anyway, why don’t you just stay with me?” you ask.

“Cause your couch is too small for me to sleep on.”

“My bed’s not too small.”

You hear Sy suck in a breath. “I can just go home at the end of the night. It'll be easier that way. You should still fill out the forms though, so you can visit me when ya want to and—”

“Sy,” you interrupt with a smile. It suddenly dawns on you that he’s nervous.

“Yup,” His lips make a small pop when he says it.

“You don’t want to sleep in my bed?�� you ask, playing a little coy.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” Sy says roughly.

“Me neither.”

“I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself.” There’s a question in his statement, like he’s unsure that you would want him to touch you.

“I wouldn't want you to,” You hold your breath in anticipation of his answer.

“From the second I see you, all I’m gonna want to do is touch you,” he groans.

A moan leaves your lips as your arousal wells between your legs. “I want that too.”

“And baby... Once I start, I ain't gonna stop,” Sy says.

His voice sounds strained, like he’s struggling to lift something. Then he clears his throat, his voice is back to its normal deep, soothing baritone, and he changes the subject.

“We’ll play it by ear then, Sugar.”

Part 2

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koocycle · 3 years

Text

play thing | drabble series (i).

pairing. basketball player!jungkook x female reader

summary. jungkook is aware of the fact that you’re not his to love, yet he’s eager to show you what you’re missing out on.

wc. 3065

warnings. none

taglist. if you’d like to be added, please send me an ask!

previous | next

‘‘You look really pretty today.’’

A hint of a barely visible flush creeps up your already heated cheeks upon hearing the words leaving his lips. You don’t want to show your vulnerability at such an everyday compliment, yet the act seems a bit too hard when your lips break into a grin you’d rather keep to yourself today - completely losing your focus under his heated gaze attempting to meet your own.

‘‘Thank you, Jungkook.’’

He tries to hide the smile that’s making an appearance on his face, but he finds your flustered state way too adorable to not be entertaining on this fine afternoon. He can tell you’re not used to getting compliments by the way you innocently play with the heavy fabric of your dress, pretending to dismiss the existence of the wet haired man in front of you, but he knows better than that. Better than this simple act of innocence you’re putting up for him.

And he’s not making it any easier on you — not when he is looking at you like this. His entire figure is casually leaning back against the heavy door of the men’s locker room and his backpack hangs lazily over one of his shoulders as you can suspect that there’s nothing more in there besides a total of two pencils in desperate need for a new grinding.

‘‘You can look at me, you know?” He’s mumbling this time, words barely audible before his gaze shifts to his feet, his head tilting and the grimace not yet visible on his face. ‘‘Barely complemented you. I don’t bite.’’

His words make you shoot an eyebrow up your forehead, giving you the final strength to look him in the eye this time. You know exactly what he’s doing.

“I mean — unless you’re into that?”

There it was. The boyish grin just begging to show up, the hint of pure mischief continuing to gleam in his eyes — the kind he wouldn’t be able to hide even if he wanted to. You had expected it to come to this point already, had been waiting for it, actually.

You straighten your back, composing your posture in front of him. And he oh so desperately tries to not avert his eyes down your slightly pushed out chest. The lightweight fabric of your nude colored blouse is allowing him to catch a glimpse of your bra, but he won’t let his guard down.

“I’m not, actually.” You manage to answer smugly, a load of confidence washes over you as you already have a feeling as to where this is heading. This surprises him as well, the sudden hint of a tease clearly audible in your voice.

“Hm, no?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

Your friend dramatically rolls his eyes at the obvious lie, a glimpse of a pretty smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He shifts his weight on both his feet now as he disregards the locker room door by itself, prepared to make his way over to you now – and you can already feel the beat of your heart in the base of your throat with each step he takes. Because he’s looking bolder than the days before. More daring – defiant, almost. Ready to take on the challenge and not willing to lose anytime soon.

His entire aura screams fuck me in the janitor’s closet five minutes before your next class starts.

No.

‘‘Tell me what you are into then.’’ His eyebrow cockily raises up on his forehead as his head just slightly tilts, knowing he’s got you stuck in place. The confident expression you had written on your face completely dismissed.

You can’t handle him.

You clear you throat, announcing your defeat. “You know I got you guys take out?’’ The high pitched undertone in your voice betrays you – but what else do you have in your power when he stands in front of you like this? The warmth of his body this close to you, you’re actually able to feel him? ‘‘Chinese.. take-out..’’

Both of his eyebrows raise up this time, the surprise coating his features perfectly. ‘‘What?’’ as his gaze shifts to the barely open bag hanging on to your fingertips, you feel a little less intimidated before him. “Seriously?” his tattooed fingers curl around the shoulder straps of his backpack, “I love Chinese take-out. You’re an actual angel.”

When he’s right in front of you, his gaze feels heavy on your shoulders. You tell yourself he’s only interested in the food, but there’s too little space between your bodies for that to be true. His cologne is even stronger this time and it makes your mind all cloudy.

“Uh.. It’s just,” you immediately stop talking as you feel yourself grow hot under his presence, stumbling over your own words before you attempt to gulp your nerves away. “Just some sweet sesame chicken with fried rice and egg rolls.. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Still an angel.” He smiles down at you, pinching the tip of your chin just slightly before taking his backpack off and hastily rummaging through it. “Let me pay you back.”

“Oh no,” You immediately try to reassure him, “Absolutely not, Jeon. Over my dead body. You guys trained for over 5 hours, this is the least thing I could do. ”

You watch him pull an eyebrow up, a small smile appearing on his features. As if asking you why you wouldn’t want the money. As if you’re the crazy one here.

“___” He goes, the stern warning in his voice not being dismissed. “You just bought an entire meal for a team of fifteen hungry men. It’d be disrespectful not to pay you back, honestly.”

“You’re not paying me back. End of conversation, Jeon.” You point an accusing finger his way, a cute smile on your face.

Nonetheless, your finger gets dismissed by him as he shakes his head in disapproval before rummaging through his backpack yet again.

Pulling out a rather small wallet, he opens up and goes through it.

“This should be enough.”

He holds the money in between two fingers in the air, pretty pink lips turning into a knowing smile when your eyes widen at the paper in his grip.

“That’s way too much, Jungkook.” A snicker leaves him when you cup your smaller hands over his bigger ones, pushing the 50 dollar bill back to his chest. “Way too much. Are you out of your mind?”

“Are you?” He challenges, eyebrows raising as he waits for you to say something, “I honestly don’t mind paying you back, ___. If anything, it would make me feel better knowing I paid for my own lunch.”

“I mind, though. We’re not doing this.”

“Come on,” He whined, tilting his head slightly but still remaining eye contact with you. “You bought me food, this is the least thing I can do.”

“I bought all of you food, not just you.” You correct him, pointing a long finger at him. He thinks it’s such an adorable act and can’t stop himself from wrapping his entire palm around your pointer finger. “You’ll treat me on Mexican next time, won’t you?’’

When your hand moves in its place to intertwine your fingers together, the last thing Jungkook does is protest. He proudly accepts your soft hand to take place in his own. His thumb gazes over the smooth skin as he can’t help the grin from appearing.

“You win.” He states in defeat, voice lowering a few volumes down until he goes mute, you almost don’t notice the “for now,” he mouths after.

Beats of silence pass between your figures. Your hands are still intertwined and there’s too little space between you to be seen as two average friends with platonic intentions only. The silence hanging in the air isn’t uncomfortable, but rather peaceful.

You don’t see Jungkook that often, and that’s partly due to both of your packed schedules, growing stack of assignments, and his unending amount of training sessions in basketball court. Nevertheless, he is a great friend to you, and you’re grateful to share this friendship with him. You’re comfortable around him, and you’re sure it’s the other way around as well. That’s an obvious fact considering the way you’re standing here with him. Holding hands with giggly expressions on your faces.

‘‘Stealing my girlfriend, Jeon?’’

It’s crazy how fast the distance between you and Jungkook enlarges within a second when the heavy locker room door comes to an abrupt open. You feel as shocked as you look like with the sudden change of atmosphere, eyes slightly wide when a startled, and rather uncomfortable smile finds its way on your lips.

That’s right; Jungkook kind of seemed to forget about this dude.

‘‘Oh I- uh.. we were just.. talking.’’ Jungkook manages to blurt out, fingers reaching out the scratch the back of his neck.

‘‘I know. Don’t sweat it, man.’’ The new figure that enters the scene dismisses Jungkook somewhat faster than needed after his attempt on reassuring him, now centering his eyes on you. He stands in between you as if creating a shield around you – as if creating some sort of barrier between you. His hands are slightly up in the air, presumably ready to embrace you in his arms.

‘‘Minho..’’ His name trails off your lips in a rather hesitant manner, Jungkook can’t help but notice. ‘‘How did training go?’’ Your tone is so soft and delicate, filled with affection.

The larger male takes a few more steps towards you, invading your space as his hands slip around the small of your back. You almost don’t notice the rest of the guys walking out of the locker room as well with him filling your sight, allowing them to have a front row seat on the scene unfolding in front of them.

‘‘It went fine. What’re you doing here, hm?’’ His words are slightly mumbled before he pushes your body more against his own, his smell overtaking you. He barely gives you some time to process the question before his lips slam against yours, taking you in a hungry kiss.

The guys watch the scene expand in front of their noses, a few ‘‘oohs’’ thrown in there when your boyfriend deepens the kiss even more, causing you to be thrown off guard a bit.

‘‘Minho,’’ You try to speak in between the kisses, but he won’t budge. Nervous laughter manages to escape you, ‘‘We’re not alone.’’

Jungkook wants to look the other way a little too badly, but his eyes are somehow still glued on the show you’re currently putting out. He would rather not call the heavy feeling in his stomach something along the lines of disgust, but it’s hard for him not to with the way his insides are turning upside down.

“Better find a room for those two or we’ll be stuck here all day.” It’s Min Yoongi who snickers beside the damp haired boy, nudging his side with his elbow. But Jungkook can’t seem to laugh at the attempted joke. Instead, his fingers are tightening around the straps of his backpack once again, trying to collect his cool.

Your hand is carefully placed on your boyfriend’s chest in attempt to calm the kiss down before he finally quits the whole act all together.

‘‘Can’t even kiss my girlfriend now?’’ Jungkook wants to wipe the grin that's slowly but surely growing on his face off. And the feeling is only starting to increase when the large male turns back to his teammates, a disgusting smirk visible on his features.

Such an ass.

Jungkook can’t help but scoff at the sight – and visibly so. He’s just using you to show off.

‘‘I uh..’’ You start but trail off the rails soon enough, making the attention turn back to you, ‘‘I brought you guys some take out, you texted me that you guys have been training all day and I figured out-”

“You brought us take out?”

You don’t get to finish your sentence when Kim Namjoon speaks up from behind, eyes bulging out of his head before slipping past his teammates’ bodies. And even when he eventually stands before you, trying to peek inside the plastic bag in your hands, you can’t help but note the huge amount of height difference between you. No wonder his coach never let him rest on one of the benches during all the competitions played so far - he’s easily one of the tallest players on the field.

It doesn’t take a lot of peeking before a gasp escapes his lips, “Dude - she got them egg rolls, I’ve been craving those all week.’’ Eyes buckle out of his scalp, ‘’All damn week.”

Jungkook can see you shooting a warm smile at Namjoon from afar, content with the way it seems to light the male up – pretty dimples making an appearance as his nearly perfect set of teeth shine brightly in your view. He can almost compare you to a child who just gave their parents the perfect valentines gift, looking all bubbly and excited over this.

‘‘I got some chicken as well.’’ You thrillingly whisper to your side, another set of giggles escaping you once Namjoon, once again, is ready to attack that plastic bag in your grip.

‘‘I didn’t expect you to come with take-out, though.’’ Minho sighs heavily, catching your attention almost immediately as you look at him with a huge set of eyes. The tone of his voice is disgustingly sweetened up as he swallows you back into his embrace, hands dissolving around the small of your back, not caring about the remaining players gauging at the two of you from the other side of the hall. ‘‘We already made plans, babe.’’

You don’t hold on to him the same way he does to you, Jungkook notices. The bright gleam in your eyes from before has already disappeared, now replaced with a frown between your brows. And he hurts for you.

‘‘You can’t reschedule?’’ You ask hazily, almost afraid to ask the question. ‘‘I know Joon would like some take-out.’’ Your hair falls out of your face when you spare Namjoon a pretty glance from over your shoulder.

Yet your boyfriend shakes his head, ‘‘Not this time. You should’ve told me before you went all out to please my teammates like this, love.’’ He titters at his own joke, thinking he’s funny. Still, a few guys besides Jungkook seem to snicker a bit at your rosy-looking cheeks. But he can’t bash an eyelash.

If no one is going to say it, he will.

‘‘Of course we can reschedule.’’ Jungkook speaks up, catching the eyes of your boyfriend immediately, quickly followed by your own. ‘‘We can go for some fast food any other day.’’

When Minho raises a cocky eyebrow up his forehead, the question already written on his features, Jungkook heaves out a tired sigh.

‘‘Come on, man. She bought us an entire meal.’’ His open palm points to the bag, which is still hanging around your curled fingers, reddening the tips completely.

‘‘It’s not like I asked her to.’’ He bites, almost as if what he had said offended him. ‘‘Right..?’’ He’s looking back at you now, fingers playing with the strands of your hair as he hides them behind your ears. An irky smile visible on his face.

‘‘Right.’’ He confirms once he sees you nodding, placing a hasty kiss on the soft surface of your cheek. ‘‘I’ll call you after. Promise.’’

You’re not worried about him not contacting you – that’s the least thing on your list you’re concerned about. But he doesn’t care. Will not now, will not ever.

‘‘Okay..’’ You manage to say, your voice coming out softer than you had expected. And even though his embrace hadn’t really done anything to warm you up, the void sweeping up to you once he leaves you in place feels a little heavier right now.

‘‘I’m out of here.’’ The guy states, convinced the other guys will follow after him when his hands are raised besides his head. As he turns around without a second glance your way, your eyes follow his figure until he’s out of sight, heading for the exit.

Namjoon, the one whose mouth was watering at the idea of take-out just a minute ago is the first one who breaks the uncomfortable silence. ‘‘Next time, little one.’’ He pats your head gently, making backwards steps to disappear in a second. ‘‘Thank you, though.’’ He’s shooting you an apologetic look before big steps follow your boyfriend’s down the stairs.

Min Yoongi is the next one who leaves the scene to what it is, followed by a few other guys. But unlike Namjoon, these guys don’t do much other than gifting you a few uneasy smiles — ready to leave as soon as possible. And for some reason, it makes you feel even worse.

The silence that follows when it’s just you and Jungkook standing in front of each other hurts more, though. You’re embarrassed, he can see that much.

“Come here.” Your friend spreads his arms for you to jump into, yet you don’t make a move to do exactly that. “We’ll get out of here and eat it together. It might be a little much—” He embraces you in his warmth when you don’t attempt anything, “but do you want to see how many rice cakes I can stuff in my mouth?”

You only glare at him, not having it in you to laugh at the attempted joke when your boyfriend’s irritated expressions occupies your mind.

“I know you’re tempted.” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows at you, close to succeeding in cheering you up. And it nearly makes you want to give in and have just as a good time as Minho is about to have — but you don’t have the heart to do so.

Instead, your heart is seeking for validation.

Hence you decide to push him away. Only for you to doubt your previous actions for the upcoming few hours.

“It’s alright, Guk.” You smile at him, hand on his chest as you push him away. “I was gonna share some with my roommates anyways.”

The excuse sounds weak to the ear, even to you. But it’s not stopping you from making your way out of the hall before he seems to progress it, mind occupied with your insecurities.

#jungkook #ficscafe #jungkook drabble #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook fluff #bts fic #bts imagine #bts fics #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #cosmoguk

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wayward-dreamer · 3 years

Text

Under The Red Hood

Square/s Filled: Red Hood (@anyfandomgoesbingo), Jensen Ackles (Tell Me A Story Bingo).

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word count: 3,458

Rating: Explicit 18+!

Summary: Y/N is a photographer, friend of a SPN crew member, who agrees to take the photos of Jensen in his Red Hood costume. They instantly catch each other’s eye, fighting the urge to jump each other until after the shoot is over.

Warnings: Swearing, Smut: Dirty talk, Oral Sex (male receiving), Hair pulling, Brief spanking, Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it people), Fluff.

A/N: This one shot is also for @supernatural-jackles‘ Tell Me a Story Bingo, Square Filled: Jensen Ackles. Thanks to my twin @downanddirtydean for being beta on this one! And a special thanks to @wonder-cole as a conversation about Under the Red Hood sparked this fic idea! As always, happy reading and enjoy! :)

Y/N walked through the studio lot, smiling as she walked past crew members that she recognized. Making her way to the costumes trailer, she adjusted the visitor badge around her neck, making sure it was visible. She had been on the Supernatural set a few times, each time going to visit her friend who worked in the costume department, and she always came back with amazing memories. Everyone was so nice and instantly made her feel welcomed, making her wish she could just ditch her actual job and somehow work there.

The last few times she had been there, she had only ever seen Jared. Jensen was an elusive figure in her mind, either never there when she was or extremely busy while filming that she never caught a glimpse of him. Hopefully that wouldn’t be the case this time around.

Finding the costumes trailer with ease, she walked up the small steps and knocked on the door. The door opened instantly, and she squealed as she saw her friend, Sarah, on the other side. They hugged tightly, happy to see each other as it had been a while since they had.

“Come in, come in,” Sarah muttered, gesturing quickly into the trailer.

She shut the door once Y/N walked in, her eyes scanned around the trailer at all the clothes in there.

“Wow, you’ve been busy,” Y/N said, smiling.

“Yeah, it’s a crazy week,” Sarah breathed, her hands on her hips as she looked around the small space. “But you have to see what I did.”

Sarah moved behind one of the clothes racks, and pushed a mannequin out, causing Y/N’s eyes to widen.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, as she walked closer to admire her friend’s handiwork.

Sarah was big into cosplay, making her own costumes and doing photoshoots, ones that Y/N was usually the photographer for. Sarah would also make outfits for other people, and as Y/N admired the Red Hood cosplay in front of her, she of course knew it was for someone else.

“Babe, this is fantastic!” Y/N couldn’t believe the detailing, her eyes constantly moving over every part of the costume.

“Thank you,” Sarah said, smiling wide. “And uh… it’s the real reason I called you here today.”

“Okay…” Y/N turned to her, folding her arms across her chest as she waited for her friend to explain.

Just as Sarah was about to speak, the door to the trailer opened and Y/N felt as if her knees were about to buckle. Jensen walked in, smiling at Sarah and giving her a hug, both of them discussing their days so far. She found herself staring at him, noticing that the cameras just didn’t do him justice. Seeing him right in front of her… she felt parched.

“Jensen, this is my friend, Y/N,” Sarah introduced them, smiling.

“Ah, so this is your photographer friend who I keep missing,” he said, a smile spreading across his face, every one of his brilliant white teeth beaming. “Good to finally meet you, Y/N.”

He offered her his hand, and she placed hers in his, telling herself to calm down as she shook it.

“You too,” she said, smiling back.

Sarah looked between them, knowingly. “Okay, so… the reason you’re here.”

“Yes, enlighten me,” Y/N muttered, turning to her.

Sarah looked between Jensen and her and smiled. “So, I made this on a whim, but then I remembered Jensen did Under the Red Hood and so I adjusted the measurements. Anyway, I thought it would be fun to do a photoshoot, and luckily he agreed.”

Y/N looked at Jensen and he shrugged, with a bright smirk on his face. She understood what Sarah was telling her straight away. She wanted her to take the photos. She was about to spend an extensive amount of time with this gorgeous man in front of her. She wasn’t nearly prepared for that.

“Well, luckily I have my camera in the car,” Y/N said, looking between them. “When are we thinking of doing it?”

“We’ve got an extended lunch, so we were thinking we’d head out to the old train tracks on the end of the road,” Jensen explained, his eyes boring into hers.

She nodded, trying to tell herself to speak but the words weren’t coming to her.

“So, you in?” Sarah asked, bouncing slightly on her feet, unable to contain her excitement.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, his eyes glancing over Y/N as the smirk never left his face. With that look, how could she say no?

“Let’s do it,” she replied, smiling wide.

“Awesome.” He gave her a small nod, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Yes!” Sarah yelled with a small laugh. “Alright, you get dressed and I’ll keep everything I need. We’ll meet you at the car?”

“Sure,” Y/N agreed, a small smile on her face as she looked at her friend.

With one last glance at Jensen, she left the trailer and walked back to the parking lot. She walked over to her car, opening the passenger side door and taking out her camera bag. She waited by Sarah’s car, smiling as she thought about the small interaction between her and the green-eyed actor. There was an attraction already, she could sense it, and she had to hope it wouldn’t be too presumptuous of her to ask him over to her apartment once he finished filming.

Hearing footsteps approaching after a few minutes, she turned to see Sarah and Jensen walking over. He was now in the Red Hood outfit, and she felt a heat radiate throughout her body. The leather cinched in all the right places, and she found it hard to look away from him as he got closer. Sarah unlocked her car, dumping her bag in the backseat.

“What do you think?” he asked, his arms out to his sides as he turned slowly.

She quickly glanced down, biting her lip as she admired the way the leather pants accentuated his ass. Their eyes met as he turned back around, both of them smiling flirtatiously.

“I think… you don’t want to know what I think,” she replied, biting her lip.

His eyes moved over her; the smirk still present on his face. “Maybe I do.”

She shook her head with a small laugh, turning away from him and opening the door to the backseat, sitting behind the passenger side.

“Very considerate of you to give me shotgun,” he said, looking back at her as he sat in the passenger seat.

“Well, it just means you have to shut your cake hole,” she countered, laughing.

“Fan of the show, huh?” he asked, smiling.

“Oh yeah,” she replied, nodding.

“You know, Jay…” Sarah started, as she pulled out of the parking space and drove towards the exit. “Y/N’s a Dean girl.”

She felt her cheeks heating up and was thankful she was sitting in the backseat, so he couldn’t see her.

“Good to know,” he said, softly as he continued to smile.

Sarah drove them out to the old tracks, surrounded by old factories that weren’t operational anymore. They got out of the car, both women taking what they needed with them, and walked along the buildings until they got to the tracks. Y/N suggested a few angles she could take photos from, seeing what would look better in the background before they started. She took a few photos of Jensen with the helmet on first, knowing it would easier on her if she couldn’t look into his eyes.

“Hey, do you think if they ever wrote Jason as older, you would do it?” she asked, as she checked over the last couple of pictures she took.

“If that happened, I certainly wouldn’t say no to at least auditioning,” he replied once he took off the helmet.

Sarah walked over, fixing his hair as told him to close his eyes, allowing her to cover his eyelids and around his eyes with the black makeup. She took out the red eye mask and fitted it over his eyes to his face, stepping back and admiring her work. Y/N was barely keeping it together before, and then Sarah had to go and add the damn mask.

Y/N took a deep breath as positioned herself with her camera again. It was becoming increasingly harder to look at him, and she was practically praying that Sarah would be satisfied by the number of photos soon, so that they could head out and she could actually do something about the way she was feeling. As she looked through the eyepiece, she saw him look at her directly and wink, before quickly turning back into the pose he was in. It was completely unfair that he knew the effect he was having on her and using it to his advantage.

Soon enough, Sarah looked through the photos and hugged her tightly, ecstatic about how they turned out. As she told her which ones to send to her, Y/N looked over at Jensen, smiling as she saw him looking at her. He walked over to Sarah, looking over her shoulder at the photos on the camera.

“These are great, Y/N,” he said, looking up at her. “Thanks for doing this.”

She smiled at him, shaking her head. “No problem.”

“Alright, we better head back,” he sighed, frowning slightly. “As much fun as that was, I have to get back to being Dean.”

“Well, you’ve still got some time before you have to be back,” Sarah said, looking between them. “So why don’t I take the car back and you two can talk?”

Jensen and Y/N looked at each other, before she looked at her friend and glared at her.

“I’ll take your camera for you, too,” she offered, walking over to Y/N.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N asked, whispering as she continued to glare at her.

“You can thank me later,” Sarah whispered back, winking before she turned away.

“You two have fun,” Sarah called out, taking her bag and Y/N’s camera bag, along with the helmet to the costume.

“Wow, she really just left us out here,” Jensen muttered, his voice deep and gravelly. He chuckled as he looked over at Y/N, her laugh joining his.

“Yeah,” she agreed, shaking her head. “I guess we better get back.”

“Well…” he trailed off, turning to her. “I’ve got time to spare if you do.”

She looked at him, sighing as she bit her lip, contemplating what he was suggesting. “Where?” she asked, glancing around.

He smirked, offering her his gloved hand. “Follow me.”

Y/N slipped her hand into Jensen’s, allowing her to lead her past warehouses, coming to a small gap between two where he stopped. She turned to him and smiled, gasping as he leaned down, kissing her fervently. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing herself closer to him as he moved into her, pushing her up against the side of the warehouse. She pulled away from his lips, breathing harshly from the intensity of the kiss.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you,” he mumbled against her lips, lightly nipping at her bottom one.

“I’m just glad you finally did,” she said, her eyes glancing over his outfit.

“Costume doing it for you, huh?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows.

“Fuck yes,” she gasped, grabbing his leather jacket in her hands and pulling him closer.

She kissed his pouty lips, softly sucking at the bottom one as she deepened the kiss, pulling him closer. Their bodies pressed together tightly, neither of them wanting to move as they continued their feverish embrace. She felt herself getting wet already, the attraction between causing her arousal to build.

“Fuck, I want you,” she whispered against his lips.

He groaned slightly as he pulled her closer and turned them around, his back now against the building. She reached for the belt on his pants, quickly unbuckling it as she unzipped the pants, tugging them down along with his boxers. His hard cock sprung free from the confines, and she bit her lip at the sight of him.

She hummed as she wrapped her hand around his shaft, bending her head to drop some of her saliva along his length. “Fuck, your cock is so perfect.”

She pumped her hand back and forth, smirking as he closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the wall. She moved down to her knees, smiling up at him as she leaned in, kissing the tip of his cock. She sucked at the pre-cum before moving her mouth over him, taking him in. She began to bob her head, his shaft sliding between her lips and hitting the back of her mouth with each stroke.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, his hands moving into her hair. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

She moaned around him, the vibrations around his shaft shooting straight through his whole body, as she continued to pleasure him with her mouth. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling her wetness begin to soak her panties.

“Fucking love your mouth,” he grunted, as he watched her.

She looked up at him, winking as he watched his cock slide back and forth between her lips. She pulled back, gasping as her hand wrapped around it and stroked him, her saliva coating his shaft. His hand suddenly came down, stopping her movement.

“You got to stop, baby,” he said, breathing heavily. “I have to fuck you, and I won’t be able to if you keep going.”

She quickly stood up, stripping her jacket off and pulling up her top, revealing the black lacy bra she wore underneath. Jensen pulled back the Velcro of each glove, pulling them off and tossing them on the ground.

“Come here, darlin’,” he whispered, his Texas drawl seeping through as he cupped her face gently in his hands.

He leaned in, kissing her heatedly, her hands holding onto his wrists to keep him from moving. He moved one hand away from her face, his knuckles lightly brushing the soft skin of her stomach as it moved down to the top of her jeans. He opened the button and zip, slowly pushing his hand in and rubbing his fingers over the fabric of her wet panties.

“Jensen,” she gasped.

“Look what sucking my cock did, Y/N,” he said, smirking. “Can I see just how wet you are?”

She nodded, looking into his green eyes, still framed by the red mask. He slipped his hand past the waistband of her panties, his fingers moving lower between her folds. He groaned as they met her slick, smirking as he looked at her.

“God, you’re fucking soaked,” he groaned, smiling at her. “So ready for me, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” she whimpered.

Jensen pulled his hand out of her panties and pulled her into him, turning her around and pressing her front against the wall. She gasped as she turned her head, looking back at him. He smirked at her as he hooked his fingers into the top of her jeans, pulling them down to her knees along with her panties. He let out a low grunt at the sight of her ass, his hand lifting up and landing against the globe, causing her to yelp.

“Fuck,” she gasped, a small chuckle leaving her lips.

He squeezed the flesh, smirking as their eyes met. “You like that, darlin’?”

She nodded, angling herself so that she could look at him.

“I’ll have to remember that for tonight,” he said, his voice low and deep.

She smiled, biting her lip at the realization that he wanted to see her again. He pushed his pants open a little wider, taking hold of his cock and placing it at her entrance. He teasingly pushed in an inch, the head of his cock moving in and then out, feeling her already clench around him.

“Fuck, Jensen,” she whimpered. “Please fuck me. Please.”

“Patience, Y/N,” he muttered, chuckling.

He pushed forward, his cock sinking into her heat right to the base, his pelvis pressed against her ass. He groaned, feeling her sheath him, clenching around him perfectly. He wasted no time, instantly setting a quick pace to his thrusts, moving deep within her.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, her hands balling into fists against wall.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted, as he held onto her hips and pulled them back against his. “Feel so fucking good around my cock.”

“Jay,” she gasped, looking back at him. “Fuck me harder, faster.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, making quick work of speeding up. He angled her hips and grunted, feeling his cock slide deeper into her and hit her sweet spot repeatedly as her walls clenched around him, causing her to cry out.

“Fuck yes! Right there,” she moaned, loudly. She had a brief thought that someone could hear them, but she forgot about it as he continued to thrust into her. “Fuck, Jensen, your cock feels so good inside me.”

His hand reached forward and wrapped around her hair, tugging it roughly. “Is that what you wanted, Y/N?”

“Yes, fuck yes!” she yelled. “God, feels so fucking good.”

He tugged her hair again, pulling her back towards him, her back pressed to his chest. He thrusted up into her, his lips close to her ear.

“Can’t wait for tonight,” he whispered, softly nipping at her ear lobe. “The things I’m going to do to you… you’re gonna be screaming my name all night, darlin’.”

“Fuck,” she gasped, turning her head and looking into his green orbs, his red eye mask still in place. She moaned loudly, feeling herself clench around him, as his thrusts began to falter. They were both close to their release, the coil within her winding tight.

“You’re close aren’t you, Y/N?” he asked, kissing her cheek.

“Yeah,” she cried out, nodding against his shoulder. “Make me cum.”

He grabbed her hips tight in his hands, his hips thrusting faster into her, the slap of skin mixing with their pleasured moans reaching their ears. She suddenly threw her head back, moaning as her climax hit her like a tidal wave.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she yelled. “Jensen, oh god yes!”

He felt his cock pulsing within her, causing him to stop his hips, as he throbbed and spurted ropes of cum within her, her walls contracting around him.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed.

Jensen leaned down, kissing her shoulder blade softly. He stood up and slowly pulled out of her, turning away from her as he pulled up his boxers. They redressed in silence, but Y/N couldn’t help but look at him as he fixed all the buckles and zips of the costume back into place. He glanced at her, smirking as he caught her looking at him.

“Man am I glad this worked for you,” he said, pulling the leather jacket back into place.

“Me too,” she said, softly as she smiled at him.

“I’ll have to remember it for another time,” he said, wagging his eyebrows.

She hummed, as a playful glint in her eyes as she looked at him. “Maybe you’ll have to be dressed as Dean next time.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, stepping closer to her and pulling her into him. “You’re full of surprises, babe.”

“Yes, I am,” she whispered, softly pecking his lips.

“So… about tonight,” he started, chuckling slightly. “Uh, you don’t have to take it, but… the offer’s there.”

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around his neck. “There’s no way I’d give that up.”

He leaned in, kissing her sensually, pulling her close. Pulling away after a moment, he looked deep into her eyes.

“We really owe Sarah a big one,” he said, smirking.

“Absolutely,” she whispered, pulling him closer by his leather jacket and kissing him, passionately.

They hurried back to set, no one the wiser of what had occurred between them. Jared eyed him suspiciously, but he would just have to wait to hear that story. Y/N stayed for another couple of hours, soon saying her goodbyes to everyone and hugging Sarah, promising to tell her what happened later after she asked. As she grabbed her camera bag and left the set, she and Jensen exchanged looks, both of them smiling as they anticipated what would be happening later.

She walked towards her car, a spring in her step as she smiled, butterflies in her stomach as she couldn’t wait to spend the night with the green-eyed actor who had captured her heart.

And maybe, just maybe, it would end up being more than one night.

-x-

Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @downanddirtydean @jensengirl83 @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @whatareyousearchingfordean @flamencodiva @ellewritesfix05 @roonyxx @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @prettyboyswow @lunarmoon8 @supernatural-bellawinchester

#anyfandomgoesbingo #tell me a story bingo #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x female!reader one shot #jensen ackles x female!reader smut #jensen ackles one shot #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles fanfiction #supernatural rpf #supernatural fanfiction

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hubbytaeil · 3 years

Note

Hiiiii can I request a hyuck smut with 6, 16?? Like oc being super cocky and bratty and him not being able to keep up with her sometimes so he just has to fuck her up a little bit, idk maybe turn her fierce personality into a pillow princess? I can’t believe I’m gonna ask for this but can him suck/lick her cheek?

Thanks so much for sharing your works✨💕

Donghyuck + #6 It’s a real shame that no one asked for your opinion & #16 Did you hear something

genre: smut

contains: swearing, way too many petnames, praising

word count: 2525

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while (hence the santa claus joke) but hey she’s here, hope you like it <3

-ˏˋ⋆ ̥ prompts ̥ ⋆ˊˎ-

"Did you hear something?" "What?" Donghyuck turns his head, following where your gaze has posed. It gives you enough time to steal a punch of fries from his plate and stuff them in your mouth. When he realises what you're doing (for the umpteenth time during lunch), he is the face of disappointment. "I'm going to break this plate over your head if you do that again." He replies with the straightest look you've ever seen on him. "No, you wouldn't." You assure him, sending him a flying kiss to which Donghyuck answers with fake gagging sounds. "Drama queen." You hiss, biting onto your hangover burrito. "Oh, look who's talking." "Oh, shut up." "Someone's forgotten the scene she caused last night." You munch shaking your head left and right. "I have no idea what you're talking about, are you sure it wasn't you?"

You tease after swallowing the big bite. "I wasn't blacked out drunk, clinging on my friend and whining like a little bitch." You snicker at how offended he looks, fists tight on the edge of the table. "So what? Are you mad you couldn't get any pussy because of me?" Donghyuck's eyes widen in shock as the restaurant falls silent. You have a sneaky look in your eyes, perfectly aware that every single client has heard your not so ladylike remark. You bite into your plastic straw and Donghyuck is not sure why his cheeks are flushed now. "I wouldn't worry too much, Hyuckie." You say after taking a sip of soda. "It's not like you would've gotten any if I wasn't there anyway." Donghyuck gives you a dry laugh, glaring at you. "As a matter of fact, you didn't get laid either, missy." "At least I got some offers" "Oh, yeah? From who? The stripper that was dressed like Santa Claus?" You chuckle remembering how absurd (and hot) that guy looked. "No, from Mark." Donghyuck's jaw drops to floor, as you finish your drink, purposely exaggerating the sounds coming from the can. "You fucked Mark?! What the fuck, y/n." "We didn't fuck." You affirm, standing up to get the bill.

Donghyuck haunts you all the way back to your apartment until you spill every detail. "So, he chickened out?" Donghyuck laughs, anticipating the moment when he will be able to tease Mark about the entire incident. "I guess he was taken back, the poor thing." "By what exactly?" He looks at you from head to toe mockingly. You hit his shoulder purposely hard and he whines. "We weren't doing anything crazy once we got back to his place, just the usual... some groping, some kissing..." Donghyuck shakes his shoulders vigorously letting out disgusted sounds, trying to shake off the vision of his friend Mark in a sexual situation. "But then I started talking dirty and he just sort of... stared at me. Like, just staring. He looked like a deer in headlights. Just stood there." "Oh my God." Donghyuck bursts out a big laugh as he imagines everything you're saying. "Please, tell me what you said to him." He is more than ready to take written notes if that means embarrassing Mark Lee. "Well..." you hesitate, wondering if you're getting a bit too personal. "Something like 'yeah baby, I know you want to fuck this pussy, come and get it you bastard'." Donghyuck stops his steps on the concrete, not expecting to hear these words flow out of your mouth at 2 p.m. on a Sunday. You turn around and see him take in the little too graphic information. Slowly, he starts massaging the bridge of his nose, sighing, feeling unexpectedly bad for his strictly vanilla sex-oriented friend. "Y/n, of course he chickened out, Jesus. I mean... I guess you don't know him that well." You shrug your shoulders unbothered. "Whatever, he looks like he only does it in missionary." you both resume your walk. "And he probably does." Donghyuck chuckles. "I guess no one can tame me." You joke, but Donghyuck doesn't take it as such. Those word stick with him until you reach your door. It doesn't help when the wind swiftly blows under your dress while you're unlocking your door, teasing Donghyuck with a quick glimpse of your white laced panties, you don't even notice. That's when he realises, he's been staring at your ass.

The afternoon continues lazily, both of you still feeling the final effects of last night's drinks. You put on some classic rom-com you both saw thousands of times just to kill another few hours and have the excuse to slack on your couch. Every time the handsome male lead comes on you let out a weird strained sound that annoys Donghyuck until he can't take it anymore. "He's not even that good looking, y/n." "It's a real shame that no one asked for your opinion." You fire back, lifting up your leg to hit him with your foot. He groans but doesn't do anything to stop you, so you just keep on going, curious on how long he'll last. "Y/n, stop." His tone is lower than ever, he's not even looking at you but it's enough to make something snap in you. "What if I don't?" You whisper, tapping your foot on his thigh restlessly. He finally turns to you, setting up little flames all over your skin with just his eyes. He goes from your cocky smile, to the slightly visible line of your breasts, and down to where your dress is barely covering what's under it. Donghyuck grins without moving any other muscles. "Really, y/n?" "What?" You protest all the while 'casually' exposing the panties Donghyuck couldn't stop thinking about for the past forty minutes. His throat runs dry at heavenly sight, but he doesn't break. "I'm not going to fuck you just because you couldn't score some dick last night." He states, biting the inside of cheek. You huff, annoyed at him wanting to play hard to get at a time like this. You let your left leg hang off the couch, just to give Donghyuck a better look. "Then you're just going to watch." You affirm before letting your hand trail along your thigh as you reach your wetness. You had been ‘in the mood’ for quite some time, if one counts last night’s complete failure, and you noticed just how wet you were already just by touching the outside of your underwear. Donghyuck holds his breathe while his eyes scan every single movement of your fingers. You chuckle way too innocently when he coughs in the back of his throat. You never take your eyes off him as you work your way towards pleasure. You've done this so many times, it's like applying an obvious mathematical formula to you. But having someone watch you do something reserved to the intimacy of your bedroom is new kind of thrill. It feels especially thrilling with Donghyuck gawking at your skilled fingers caressing your folds with the perfect amount of pressure. You feel your breathe shortening, throwing your head back on the cushions. You pull your panties to the side and Donghyuck suppresses a low moan when you eagerly put a finger in, chasing after your high like a wild animal. He waits a few moments to enjoy the view of you pumping in and out of your heat, juices making lewd sounds that fill up his ears. "You dirty girl." Donghyuck whispers before dragging your hand away from yourself to which you whine loudly. "You want someone to tame you, uh?" Donghyuck mutters before putting your fingers in his mouth, savouring your taste. You can't help but moan at the contact, feeling sensitive in every inch of your body. "Think you can?" You blurt out and within seconds your friend has you pinned on couch. You sigh loudly when he swiftly resumes the work you had left unfinished, all the while securing your hands above your head. Donghyuck doesn’t need to ask how his fingers feel inside of you, he can read in your more than satisfied expression, he can hear it in your ever so delighted moans that come straight out of a porno. “Fuck, I should bother you more often.” you whimper in between chuckles and whimpers, struggling to keep your legs apart, overwhelmed by bliss. “I think you do that way too much already, doll.” Donghyuck remarks before aiming for your neck to place sinful kisses. His fingers work skilfully to find out when to slow down and when to speed up, you grab his bicep encouraging him whenever he hits the right spot. You start wondering why you haven’t done this earlier. Your mind is too cloudy therefore you are taken by surprise when you perceive Donghyuck sucking slightly into your cheek. You hold your breathe, surprised at your own enjoyment and you both smile at each other. You are quick to connect your lips to his, brushing your tongue against his as soon as you get the chance. “Greedy, aren’t we?” Donghyuck groans, amused and aroused at the sight of your neediness. You just hum in response, palming his member over his gym shorts. “I need it.” you plead, showing him your best puppy eyes. “I know you do, baby.” he smirks as he says this, taking his fingers out of you, completely soaked in your juices. “Look at this. Look at how needy you are.” you nod desperately at his statement and Donghyuck is beyond pleased. You, caged under him, not being able to put into words how badly you wanted to get fucked. A sight to see indeed. “How do you want it?” he asks, helping you out of your dress and underwear and removing his t-shirt afterwards. You open your legs once again, not needing an explicit answer. Donghyuck clicks his tongue in disappointment, showing off an indecent smile. “I thought you were against missionary.” he reminds you, but you are fast to bring your hands to his, pulling him over you. “I never said I was against it.” you whisper, at this point consumed in your lust. Donghyuck takes his time to caress your hair, your cheek, until his fingers ghost over your hardened nipples and over your stomach. You take in the sudden affectionate gesture, then you feel his weight over you shift and you see him rummage inside your bag from the night before that had been forgotten on the coffee table. You’re not shocked when he pulls out a condom, given that you were the one who had put it there for ‘good luck’. “I guess we can finally put this to good use. Don’t we, babe?" You hum happily, savouring his assertive yet considered tone. You sit up on your elbows admiring every second of him putting it on. “Now, where were we?” “Need a reminder?” You suggest getting closer, ghosting his lovely lips with yours. He smirks amusedly before pinning you down once again. “Ready, baby girl?” the pet names were driving you crazy in a way you had never experienced before and Donghyuck had been taking note of that every time you moaned at the sound of those words. “Interesting, knowing you I thought you might’ve like being called a whore or something.” he mocks you, aligning himself at your entrance without giving you full satisfaction. “How do you want to call me?” you moan softly in response, revealing to him your most docile nature that surely you hadn’t let a lot of people witness, let alone lovers. And you knew that he was enjoying every second of it. “Let me think... I quite like babe.” he utters as he delivers a first thrust. You throw you head back, feeling more than joyful in receiving what you had been craving. “Baby girl is nice too.” A second hip movement, this time painfully slower, in between frustration and gratification. The slower he goes the more you can feel just how much he fills you up perfectly. “I think I’m gonna go with baby girl.” you cry desperately at the third thrust, both at the pleasure and the words he whispers in your ear. “Yes, yes, call me like that.” you almost scream when he finally speeds up the rhythm. Lewd sounds of skin against skin fill up the living room, now you understand why they call it afternoon delight. “You feel so good around me, baby girl.” You smile at his statement, squeezing around him purposely, to which Donghyuck grunts happily. “Let me take care of you.” he then positions your arms around his shoulders, setting his head in the crook of your neck, delivering even deeper thrusts that make your eyes roll in the back of your head. You can’t help but turn into a moaning mess, unable to answer when he asks you how good he’s making you feel. He chuckles at the gibberish that comes out of your mouth followed by a long and strained sigh that is music to Donghyuck’s ears. “This is what you wanted, didn’t you? Getting fucked until you can’t function?” he groans before giving a sloppy kiss that can only muffle your now uncontainable whine. “Hyuck-ah.” His name is all that you can mutter as he pushes himself into you quicker and quicker. Donghyck knows that he can’t hold on any longer, not after hearing his name flowing out of your lips. “God, I want you to fuck me all the time.” you blurt out. It’s no use say that your brain can’t filter your words anymore. “All the time? Oh, don’t tempt me, y/n. I could fuck you on this couch for hours, until you can’t take it anymore.” Your mind runs wild, imagining getting stuffed with Donghyuck’s cock for hours on end, in every corner of the house. You haven’t finished yet and you’re already lusting for more. Electricity sparks throughout your body when Donghyuck balances himself on your knees, spreading your legs even further apart. “C’mon, baby. Come all over my cock, you’ve waited long enough.” He’s not wrong. Those words are enough for you to crumble under him, perceiving the familiar grip in your stomach you had longed for far too long. “That’s it baby, let go.” you can’t help but do as he says and when your high finally hits you the ungodly sounds you release are out of this world. When you finally open your eyes, you see Donghyuck still painfully hard inside of you, the pulsation almost hurting you. “Cum on me, Hyuck.” you whimper, wishing for him to feel just as good. He is more than happy to do so as he removes himself from you, discarding the condom and grabbing his member right above the space between your breasts and your stomach. “Fuck, y/n.” “Let me do it.” He lets you do as you please, letting you milk his cock with so much fervour, moaning with him, encouraging him just like he has done with you. It doesn’t take long for him to shoot his cum all over your breasts, you hum at the feeling of the warm liquid. Donghyuck takes his time to admire the sinful vision right below him. “We... are gonna need to do that again.” “Touché.”

#nct au #haechan scenarios #haechan drabbles #haechan fic #haechan smut #haechan imagines #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #haechan au

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egyptsblackrose · 3 years

Text

Dancing with Strangers

More filth for this story that I keep getting new inspiration for , this is defo 18+ and basically porn without plot so enjoy

Link to part 3 - https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/648557120920354817/a-rose-by-any-other-name

Link to part 2 - https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/648451271546781696/a-rose-by-any-other-name

Link to part 1 - https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/648370506842701824/a-rose-by-any-other-name

Part 4-

True to his word, Satoru waited for Kakashi to pull away before taking his place. He spread your filled entrance with his fingers, biting his lip as his hard member ran along your sex to pick up any dripping moisture, and slowly easing inside so as to be gentle and cause no discomfort. Your body felt like it was on fire, the desire and need for more mind numbing bliss quickly being replenished. Maybe it’s because it had been so long since you had a partner, maybe it’s because there were two hot men desperate to please you, or maybe it was the alcohol. But you weren’t ready to end the night.

Gojo entertained himself with a soft grin, running his large hands down your back and squeezing your behind, pulling and kneading the flesh as he pleased. Pulling at your skin meant he’d catch glimpses of the juices coating his cock, and observe how your pussy clenched around him hungrily.

Kakashi re-appeared in your vision then, holding out a bottle of water with a soft smile. He went through the trouble of unscrewing the cap for you and holding it to your mouth so you could take a few sips without straining yourself. His thumb wiped at the excess moisture from your lips as his dark eyes roamed over you, brushing your hair from your damp face.

It was then you realised that your skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat from exertion, your body heat raising dramatically because of the rush of pleasure and warmth through your body. You shifted nervously, praying the expensive perfume and deodorant were doing their job.

The shift pressed you back into Gojo subconsciously, leaving you to swallow a whimper as the blue eyes mans head fell backwards, releasing a groan into the air. “Ready to go again beautiful? Good.” And with that he plunged forward.

You gasped out shakily as Satoru hands rested on either side of your head, his hips and legs raising to rest on his feet like he was doing push ups, only for his hips to snap forward to thrust in and out. The sounds were obscene, the faint sloshing and slapping of skin grew louder as Gojo picked up the pace and strength behind his love making, driving his long dick into you at just the right angle to hit where it felt the best.

Kakashi couldn’t help but watch your face twist in pleasure, observe how wide your mouth went as you panted and moaned helplessly, take in how your eyes scrunched tightly shut as the pleasure burned under your skin.

“She really is a pretty sight Gojo, she’s really enjoying this.” Kakashi mused, his hands burying into your hair and gripping it tightly to angle you more towards him, allowing him a better view. His cock twisted at the delightful sight.

Satoru laughed breathlessly. “Of course she is,” He replied with a cocky smirk, leaning down so his lips were at your ear, his biceps bulging. “My cocks buried balls deep inside her tight little pussy. It’s so wet with so much cum already in here. You want more though, don’t you beautiful? You want to be a mess for us?”

It was hard to nod with Kakashi holding your head in place so tightly, your eyes opening and meeting his dark eyes. “As cute as you are, we want to hear your voice, beautiful.” Gojo stopped his movements and nodded to Kakashi. You squirmed and whined as Hatake disappeared to the bed side draws again, Satoru refusing to move or allow you any wiggle room as he waited for you to answer.

“Y-yes! I want to be dripping! Please it feels so good, please make me cum again.” Blue eyes rolled back as his cock twitched from the filthy words. You felt the movement deep inside, nudging your walls, his teeth sinking into your shoulder not hard enough to break skin but certainly firm enough to leave a mark. The bite sent delicious electricity tingling up and down your spine as you whined. Gojo took hold of your hips and lifted them to just the right angle before he started his thrusting again, resting on his knees so he could drive into you harder.

“Hurry up Kakashi.” He groaned breathlessly, his grip tightening as he pistons forward.

Hatake chuckled, laying himself down next to you as as gentle hand guided your lips to his, while his other hand disappeared under you with something cold. The next thing you heard was a loud buzz, and then you felt it on your clit. Hard, insistent vibrations shook through your clit as Gojo moved inside you, both determined to make you cum.

“Fuck! So good!” Satoru cursed loudly, leaned forward again to bring his lips to your ears, panting, groaning, growling. “Such a good girl, so tight for me even after being fucked so well by Kakashi. Your pussy loves that vibrator doesn’t it? I can feel the vibrations on my cock as I pound you. So hot and wet inside, squeezing me so nicely. I just slide in so easily don’t I? I can feel your greedy little pussy twitching and sucking my cock in. You look like such a sweet girl but your so naughty for us, so perfect, so needy. Fuck, I could fuck you forever. You love the feel of my cock ramming into your insides? Desperate to make you squirt, to make us both cum and fill you even more.”

The pleasure rose and rose so much that it was almost painful, you felt warmth and pressure gather at your clit as the vibrator was pressed harder to your flesh mercilessly. The scream that was ripped from you was purely euphoric, your mind blank and numb as your body twitched, liquid squirting from your clit as Gojo slowed. Both men smiled, kissing your skin where they could and whispering words of praise.

“Fuck that was hot.” Kakashi smirked, removing the vibrator and turning it off.

Satoru panted behind you with a chuckle, nodding his head. “I’ll pull out and finish myself-”

“No!” You whined.

The two men paused, looking at each other then to you. “No?” Hatake asked carefully.

You smirked, moving your hips back into Gojo and moaning as you ground on him. “I can keep going.”

Without warning Satoru pulled out and flipped you over, wrapping your legs around his hips and lifting your hips from the bed. There was only a second of adjusting before he was once again buried inside you deeply.

“Naughty little slut,” He growled, smirking at Kakashi. “Get that vibrator back on her clit. If she likes overstimulation, then we’re going to fuck her till she looses her mind. Look at that face, she’d love that. She has two of my favourite kinks, dirty talk and overstimulation, either that or her libido is as good as ours. Either way, I want her to squirt all over me as I fill her with my cum as well. And then we’ll do it all again tomorrow.”

Gojo didn’t wait for his friend to comply before he started on his brutal pace once more, his strong arms holding almost half your body off the bed to bring you into his thrusts. You threw your head back to moan, trying to ignore the faint bulge in your stomach because of the positioning of your body. It was all so hot, the pressure and heat that had swarmed and bubbled before faded away, only for new pressure and pleasure to gather and tingle at your spine.

That tingle turned into a raging fire when Kakashi returned the vibrator to your clit.

“I can feel you tightening on me,” Satoru panted, lazily smirking down at you with flushed cheeks and a dripping forehead. “Your walls are so wet, smooth and tight, feels like heaven. Best fuck in so long. Maybe even ever. Fuck!” Gojo buried himself fully inside you before pulling back so torturously slowly, you could count the centimetres, only to snap his hips forward hard and fast, before repeating. You whined and withered on the sheets as Hatake started sucking on one of your nipples. Gojo chuckled hungrily, his voice deepening as he reached closer and closer to his end. “This is just the beginning beautiful. We’re going to fuck you so good that you wont be able to walk tomorrow. Instead we’ll stay in bed, maybe we’ll get crazy. Maybe this beautiful little body can take both me AND Kakashi. Does that sound good pretty girl? One of us buried in your pussy while you swallow the other? Or better yet, one of us breeding you here while the other takes your ass? Fuck! Your tightening even more! You want that beautiful? Don’t worry, we’d happily give it to you as many times as you want!”

It was too much, it was so intense, it was PERFECT. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as your body went stiff, only to shake and ripple as more clear liquid squirted from your clit. The vibrations didn’t stop, making you wither and claw at Kakashi’s muscular arm. You tightened inside so tight that you became hyper aware of the cock buried inside you, of how it twitched and pulsed as heat flooded your insides, and how Gojo went silent and still for a few seconds.

Blue eyes bore into yours as he released a shaky breath, his grip on your hips painfully tight and most likely bruising your skin, not that you cared. With a few short thrusts to make sure he emptied himself fully, Gojo pulled back. He and Kakashi moaned as they watched the aftermath, Hatake quickly moving to sooth you and give aftercare.

Gojo fell back panting, smiling his usual care free smile as he looked on at the sight of Kakashi and you slowly kissing, the other male petting your hair and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. His blue eyes observed you, how you smiled and twitched, biting your lip and stretching your limbs and muscles, relaxing into the mattress. Then your eyes met and he smirked. You were perfect. You were what they were missing. How could he get tired of such a clever, sweet, funny, sexy, beautiful little thing like you?

Cause your eyes said it all, you were still hungry for more.

Part 5- https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/654891313044635648/dancing-with-strangers-there-will-be-one-more-part

#Satoru #Gojo #gojo saturo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #Hatake #Kakashi #kakashi hakate #Kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi x reader #y/n #smut #mostly pwp #does anyone even read these

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gojology · 3 years

Text

Intoxicated. (18+)

The Request:

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | I’m so sorry anon, usually I finish the whole fic before adding the author’s note, and I’m now realizing that I read your request wrong. I think you meant to have Gojo and Reader as friends but uh... I kinda wrote this as the opposite? It’s more of a Popular Gojo x Loner Reader. I hope this still fits your tastes because otherwise I followed everything you asked for, you’re welcome to request more and I’ll write them PERFECTLY I swear. Also can ya’ll tell I’m bad at choosing titles LMFAO 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | College Student! Dom! Gojo x Drunk! Sub! (as per usual..) Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 3808 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Suggestions of Rape (Nothing Happens Though, Also I’m Not Sure If That’s The Correct Choice of Wording...), Fluff, Oral (Male Receiving), Somewhat Public, Hair Pulling, 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | After attending a party due to some persistent begging from a friend, hopeful for Gojo Satoru, your long-time crush to come, you turn back empty-handed. That’s what you thought, though. Eventually he comes around and helps you in more ways then one.

The thumping of bass was all you could hear. Loud drunken cheering, chatter amidst the scene. Poorly discarded red solo cups littered the floor and the tables, and at the corner of your eye you could see a heap of college students piled up on top of each other, snoring. You impatiently tap your foot against the sticky floor, most likely due to the uncleaned spilt drinks. You weren’t exactly fond of college parties. Most of the time nothing occurred, and besides, you had your eyes set on a certain man, so you weren’t quite looking for a quick night. But you had come regardless, since your friend had begged and eventually convinced you to. Scanning the crowd once more, hopeful, you curse under your breath as you come out of your search unsuccessful once more. Not even a glimpse of Gojo Satoru, someone that always attended crazy parties, and this party was high on the scale of crazy. This had to be the most depressingly boring party you’ve ever attended. But if you weren’t here to shamelessly stalk Satoru, or socialize, you had to do a bit of drinking, or else what would be the point? Walking towards the alcohol was the last thing you wanted to do. Hordes of intoxicated students were blatantly making out with each other, drinks left untouched and probably forgotten, not to mention just the overall anxiety you would get to be so caught up in the life of the party. “Yooo... ‘S that you, (Y/N)?” you heard a familiar drunken voice even through the loud music, and you whip around, glad to have some form of escape from the awkwardness. You were hesitant to approach your friend, you knew they were the friendly type, and that was only exemplified during drinking. “Yup, that’s me!” you smile awkwardly, setting your empty cup down on the table. “Agh. Fuck.” your friend groaned, stumbling onto you, sloppily catching themselves using your shoulders. “Sorry... Long night. Holy shit (Y/N), didn’t think you’d actually fucking come out and party. Nice to see you... Fuck-” brushing off a pair girls dancing wildly from their shoulder, your friend cleared their throat. You try not to make a face, and instead direct your attention to the crowd on the opposite end of the room, hoping this was enough to tell your friend that you weren’t exactly looking for a conversation. “...Fuck... What was I saying..? Oh yeahhhh, glad to see ya out here hermit. I’ll pour your drink~! How’s class going?” Clumsily fumbling with your cup, you had subconsciously picked it back up, your fingers itching to fidget with it and pretend your friend wasn’t there at all. Turning to face your friend again, a grin playing at your lips, hoping you looked friendly. “No that’s fine! I’ll do it myself, I’m way less drunk then you are. Why don’t you go sit down?” You mentally facepalm. Of course they wouldn’t get your body language, they were literally drunk. Your friend grinned boldly, “Hey, you said it, not me~ You can leave anytime though... Guy named Gojo Satoru coming soon... Makes all the parties go wild. Ladies love him. Probably not your style though, eh?” You don’t reply, instead watching your friend nod at you, perhaps as a way of saying goodbye when they couldn’t do it normally. Taking sluggish strides to mix back in with the crowd of people, unintelligibly rambling about something you presumed was about Gojo Satoru. You wave at them as they blended into the blur of faces. It takes a moment to register everything that was just said. Your heart pounding, you turn to face the variety of alcohol instead, finally settling on some cheap beer, since you had no idea what the rest was, yet you weren’t quite thinking about the quality of the alcohol you were drinking. You were looking down at the selection of drinks, but your mind wasn’t thinking about that at all. You had thought your luck really was shit, but that didn’t appear to be the case any longer. Your brain was thinking quicker then your hands could catch up, spilling the canned liquid onto the table instead of your cup, but that wasn’t what you were thinking about right now. Setting the can down without another thought, you take a long sip, enjoying the ice cold beverage, your mouth going numb with every swig. Usually you’d throw up at the slightest thought of the after taste of beer, but that didn’t matter. Right now, all that was in your world was your red solo cup, the cheep booze inside of it, and whenever the hell Gojo Satoru would arrive. The likelihood of him noticing you was probably in the negatives, you were a wall flower, an average college student, but him? He probably had a part-time job as a super model, or perhaps a fitness trainer. Strong toned arms, always a smug smirk on his face, strikingly white hair, and those damned circular shades. Shaking your head, you pour another can of beer into your cup, feeling yourself go numb and ignoring the thoughts going rampant in your head. The only thing to distance yourself from these thoughts were to drink yourself to sleep, seeing as everyone else was doing the same thing, or call an Uber. Unfortunately, that probably had a lower probability of Gojo taking an interest in you. You were, of course, a broke college student living off of pre-packaged noodles and relatively cheap dishes. It would be more likely to crash at your friends place. You weren’t quite the drinker, much less experienced with the booze. You felt your knees wobble, and a strong urge to throw up at the back of your throat. You shouldn’t have overdrank. Leaving your cup on the table, you shrugged your way towards the exit, murmuring (or rather slurring) polite excuse me’s and sorry’s, Stumbling your way towards the door, you were just now realizing that people were even now still coming into the party. You desperately needed fresh air, the atmosphere in the party was too hectic, too crazy, too stuffy. As soon as you stepped an inch away from the interior, you drew in a long much needed sigh, every breath coming out as a cloud of fog. The night was quiet and still, and you finally felt like you could vomit your guts away in peace. Walking over to the nearest trashcan you can find, you vomited as much as you could, feeling lighter as soon as it all left your system. Turning back towards the house, you still found yourself stumbling and struggling to walk normally. Wiping your mouth with your sleeve, you refused to look this stupid returning back to the house, figuring you could take a few more breathers. Taking another deep breath in, without even beginning to mention your surroundings, confidently taking long strides. You knocked into someone, headfirst into their chest. Cursing under your breath, you squint your eyes, this person was incredibly tall, you noted. Remnants of expensive smelling cologne clouded your sense of smell. “...Sorry.” you mumbled, still struggling to see who this was due to the darkness. “Hey. No problem girly, you seem drunk, you okay?” yet another familiar voice, yet you hadn’t heard it quite as often as your friend. “Huh...? Uh, yeah... I think.” giving him a dopey smile, you couldn’t remember who this guy was for some reason. “Yo Gojo! Who’s this chick?” Immediately swiveling your head towards the direction of the voice, it came to your attention that you had seen the guy on campus hanging out with Gojo quite often. Turning back up to the guy towering over you, beads of sweat formulated on your forehead, you gulp, the confidence you got while drinking evaporated into thin air. A toothy sly grin on his handsome facial features, you don’t even know if your heart rate is dropping to the negatives or skyrocketing. This was the actual real Gojo Satoru. The egotistical bastard. Stifiling an eep, you try to respond, attempting to say you were in-fact not his affirmative, “chick”. “Chill, Geto, just some drunk girl. Hey, you go ahead with the party, I think I’ll help her.” he said, waving at whoever Geto was. “Gojo, again? You’ve done this shit like 4 times, you want pussy that bad... Yo!” he raised his arms up as soon as Gojo shot daggers at him. “Dude, come enjoy yourself when you can, okay? Was just a joke.” Geto mumbled, you heard a few goodbye’s and words of agreement, and then the atmosphere was still once again. “You seem really drunk. I don’t think being alone is good.” his eyebrows knitted together. Placing a firm hand on your forehead. “which fucking sucks honestly. Here, let’s go back inside sweets. You’re heating up.” Seemingly forgetting every language you’ve ever learned, you instead look back at him in awe. He laughed, putting his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. “Here, I’ll help you walk. If worse comes to worse, I’ll fucking carry you, yeah? Nothing to be worried about, who doesn’t wanna flex that they were carried by Gojo fucking Satoru? They don’t call me the greatest for nothing~!” he sang. “You’re real?” you breathed, immediately covering your mouth following suit. Wishing you had the confidence like this sober. He raised an eyebrow, looking down at you, taking long strides that you couldn’t quite catch up with. “Yeah, I’m real, don’t walk into that you’re gonna faceplant into a car.”

“I think I’ve seen you before in one of my classes, humanities maybe?” he added, turning you back into the party, you heard the loud thumping music once again. It was in fact humanities, but you couldn’t quite tell him you always marveled at him every lecture, so instead you flutter your eyelashes. “...Uh yeah... I think I remember you too.” Before he could say anything back, you hear the steadily increase of a deafening combination of party music and loud screams and chatter. “Yo Gojo! Got a new girl? Thought you were dating some chick named Utahime?” “Yo! Nah, just helpin’ this girl, and no I am not dating Utahime-” “Is that fucking Gojo Satoru? Yo! Over here, shots? Geto’s here too!” This guy was popular, obviously. These were also top-notch names within the small college’s community, yet here you were under his arm, and not one person knew your name. Everyone just referred to you as just a girl. This probably wasn’t new to Gojo then, so you weren’t special. You felt your heart drop. Once again, you were in your own world, and you never felt like a burden more then now. “Hey, where are the rooms?” You look up from furiously studying the floor, and you realize he’s talking to your friend, tapping at their shoulder. “Huh? Oh my god... Gojo, I thought you didn’t make it~! Want a drink?” they lifted up their red solo cup to Gojo’s lips, an easygoing smile plastered onto their face. “Nah. Where are the rooms?” Gojo asked with a slightly impatient tone, now rhythmically drumming his fingers against your shoulder with one hand, the other shoving the cup away from his face. “Damn, my guy.” your friend wiped their lips before speaking, their arm slack. “You’re intent... Yeah down the hallway, left, there’s some spare condoms somewhere...” “(Y/N)? I didn’t even realize... You’re gonna fuck my boy Satoru over here?” they slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Wha? No of course not.. Uh... He’s...” everything came out as unintelligible babble, you felt your cheeks go warm. “She’s probably not an experienced drinker, just looking out for her to be honest. No fucking, just want to make sure she’s safe for the time being. I’ll join you later, yeah?” Gojo chirped, reassuringly patting your friend’s shoulder back. “Shit, say less Satoru. See ya~” your friend waved before turning their back on the two of you, striking up a random conversation with the people who just so happened to be nearby. As you both walked down the hallway in quiet, you look up at him, grateful for the not as noisy room. “U-Uh.. Thank you..” you murmured, “I can speak though, you know..” He chuckled, “As fucking if, I just have experience with drunk people, I can usually tell what they’re saying when others can’t. You sounded like a crackhead back there.” fidgeting with the bedroom’s doorknob, he finally unlocked it. “You’re mean! How do I know you’re not gonna... You know!” you retorted, collapsing on the bed without another thought, relishing the plush mattress. “Thanks babe, if it makes you feel any better I can pull any chick within a 500 mile radius. I don’t need to resort to such cowardly and criminal shit.” he yawned, grunting before placing his shades on the nightstand, laying down next to you. “I’ll even leave the door wide open if it makes you feel safe.” Reassured, you relaxed your body, staring at the blank ceiling. Your body felt numb and you couldn’t quite think straight. “How’d you know I was in humanities?” you slurred, still staring at the ceiling. “I see you all the time, you sit near me and have some cute stationary.” putting both of his hands at the back of his head, his eyes turned to look at yours, his neck twisting as he did so. Immediately, the first thought you think of even in your intoxicated state was how beautiful his eyes were. Like rare diamonds mined from the deepest caves, placed delicately into someone’s eyes by some divine being. A strikingly vivid bright blue. It was a little on the lighter shade, but so, so beautiful. “Pretty..” you struggle to restrain yourself, but you can’t help it, instead staring at him, eye-to-eye. “Yeah? Just like you, sweets. I thought we were talking about cute stationary?” you couldn’t quite tell if what he just said was a joke or not, but you really didn’t want to find out. You felt your heart burst. “...Really?” you breathed, ignoring his previous statement, lifting your legs upwards to wrap your arm around them. “You’re pretty. Why else do you think I’d notice you in lectures?” he paused, and even you can tell he seemed slightly nervous, a slight quiver to his lips. “honestly, whenever I’m bored I just kinda look at you. You’re cute, what can I say?” Gojo added. Unable to respond, you instead looked up at him, you felt like a blood vessel was going to pop, or your heart, whichever one was first. Scooching closer to you, he placed a hand on your neck, breathing heavily. “Hey, I’m not lying. You’re genuinely pretty, sugar, you know? Yeah we haven’t talked to each other often, but I’ve always thought you were cute and I’ve heard things about you.” “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” that was all you could pathetically muster. “Is that the joke?” “When a cute chick is on the line, I don’t lie.” he assured you, pursing his lips. Seeing him so up close was nerve-wrecking, so perfect, he looked like was sculpted with marble. A part of you wished you weren’t drunk, so you wouldn’t look as stupid. “I think you’re cute too.” you whispered. For a moment, it went quiet. So quiet that you could hear the loud music and the wild party once again, but you don’t dare interrupt. It takes everything inside of you to not break eye contact, your stomach a butterfly exhibit. “I like you.” he finally said, you couldn’t sense a damn sarcastic tone. “Bet you’re gonna doubt that too.” snickering, he ran his hand through his hair, but you swear you see him bite his lip. Sexual or something he did subconsciously, you weren’t quite sure. Time stopped. This was way too far to be a troll, but what if it still was? You didn’t know, the stupid small thought never went away, you looked at him dumbfounded instead. Snapping out of your daze, you ask, “...But we haven’t talked a whole bunch.” “I know that. I don’t know, I guess I liked the idea of the competition. You don’t throw yourself at me, and sure other girls don’t do that as well-” he trailed off, before finishing his sentence, “but I think there’s a lot of positive traits that I like in you, and you’re just.. Really pretty. I guess I don’t want to throw you away like what I do with other girls?” Before you could speak, he cuts you off again, this time a tad frantic. “But you know- Listen, I know it seems like I fuck around with girls a lot, but I’m looking to change that. I know I don’t seem very genuine now, but I think I’d like to try something with you specifically. You don’t even have to say anything back, just leave if you don’t want to, and if you do I’m sorry for disturbing your night-” Maybe it was how intoxicated you are, or how you suddenly felt a burst of confidence, but you kiss him, and you kiss him hard. His breath hitched while you rolled on top of his chest. You’re desperate to have contact between your skin and his. He kissed you back, shyly at first, soft and delicate, but that didn’t last for long. Heat rose to your cheeks, you were rusty with your kissing, but he wasn’t. The smell of his cologne was tantalizing, he kissed you like he wasn’t ever shy to begin with. One hand under your neck, propping you up towards him, the other groping your breast. Parting your lips, feeling him explore you just briefly before slipping back out as soon as it started. You felt him unhook your bra with relative ease, and you can’t control the flutter within. Still kissing you sloppily, Gojo shuddered and you could tell there was a sound at the back of the throat. Moan, grunt, growl, you couldn’t tell. Slipping his hand away from your breast momentarily, he hastily yanked your top off your body. Pulling away from the kiss not too long afterwards, he licked his lips, panting, you find yourself catching your breath too. “Sit up.” he ordered, and you did as you were told, looking up at him with eyes that practically said, “What’s next?” “Look at you. So cute.” cupping your breasts with his hands, you gasp at how hot they are, sweating just a bit, his thumbs brushed briefly against your nipples, giving them slight twirls before finally kissing both of your mounds. “Let’s be nice and light today, okay pumpkin? Nothing too serious.” you gaze up at him, now standing and unbuckling his designer belt, unbuttoning his jeans which dropped to the floor afterwards, an obvious bulge in his boxers. “...The door’s still open. Close it.” you suggest, your eyes still intent on his bulge, you don’t try to hide licking your lips. “The world needs to know who’s mine tonight. Fuck that.” he smirked devilishly before also tugging his boxers down, exposing his dick. Now, you weren’t quite expecting that he was packing this much, but he was. You easily estimated 7 inches, maybe more, you didn’t know. A pale flush pink at the very tip, veins adorned his length. Fairly girthy, and you loved it. “Off the bed, on your knees.” Scrambling off of the bed, you immediately look upwards and kiss the tip. He hummed, looking down at you with watchful eyes. You didn’t care if someone saw the two of you like this, in fact you’d love it. You instantly put your hands to work, pumping his length, making sure that you were making eye-contact. Giving playful licks along the sides whilst doing so, you note his panting is getting heavier, so you must be doing something right. Your tongue quickly darted out of your mouth to lick your lips, before suckling the tip, just as a tease. He growled, yanking at your hair so that you were looking directly up at him once again. “Don’t tease me, sweetheart. Or you’ll see what happens.” Letting go of your locks, with one last look at his face you engulfed his rock hard cock, slightly drooling. Once in a while, you took a risky peek at Gojo’s face, predatory and lustful eyes staring back directly at you. Grunting, he twitched in your mouth, and you brace yourself. “Fuck, (Y/N). You’re so good with your mouth.” he breathed. You groaned in an attempt to communicate, since your mouth was so stuffed full. Precum leaked from his dick, and you bobbed up and down once more. Taking another breath in, tears began to form at the corner of your eyes. You choked a little, but you were doing well for someone who didn’t suck dick very often. Bracing yourself for a flashflood of cum from him, your mouth worked up and down on his length before you heard a loud groan, signaling that he had came, his eyes squeezed shut, the orgasm completely wracked his body. You found yourself with a mouthful of cum, and you struggle to swallow, before doing it successfully. You look up to him, panting, some cum had escaped your mouth, splattering onto the floor. He looked you up and down, before opening his arms out for you, beckoning for you to come forth. “Come here, you looked so pretty doing all that. Such a good girl.” pulling you in closer to his chest, he laid down with a huff, hugging you now. Gojo’s hand rubbed up and down your bare, sweaty back, in a state of euphoria, you don’t do much other then giggle. “I’m so glad I can call you mine now, pumpkin.” he smiles, before giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. “Wait... We’re dating now?’ your head shot up, in shock. “Yes. Dummy. Fuck it, let’s just crash here tonight, your friend won’t mind.” he tousled your hair, taking another deep breath in. “Let’s sleep together.” “Again?” “I mean it in a literal sense.” he rolled his eyes. “.....You guys can fuck here.” a familiar voice rang out from the hallway, you hear a murmur of thanks as the voice became closer and closer, but you’re too tired to move. “We never closed the door.” you say hazily, digging your face closer into his chest. He grumbles in response, and you can’t tell what he’s saying. “..Ah nope- Looks like that room is occupied by Gojo and...” your friend’s eyes looked down, before looking back up in terror. “(Y/N)?” They looked back down at the ground, their eyes lighting up as soon as they realized what was on it: cum splatters and clothes. You’re too intoxicated to care, though.

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lady-ragnvindr · 3 years

Note

hii 💕 i was wondering if you could maybe write something for omega kaeya and diluc (separately ofc) with an alpha reader 🥺 ik you've already done one like this for diluc, but could you maybe do how they would fall in love with the alpha and then confessing during/before their heat 🥺🥺

Puppy Love HCs

Characters:Diluc and Kaeya

Alpha!GN!Reader

Warnings: Mention of heat, some spice

Kaeya

(music: crazy in love cover by J2)

Kaeya would be seen as an alpha obviously, he had the looks the dominant and confident aurora around him. But inreality he was an omega, but nobody else knew besides the acting grandmaster of course.

He didn't wanted a mate, no no no he didn't, because if he did, then everyone else would know what he really is. That was his plan, to avoid a mate

But you, oh ho ho you came in. Walking into his life with a head high, each step bringing any omega to their knees and when your sharp eyes looked at him, his inner wolf was ready to risk it all 😔

Thankfully, Kaeya's self control was much more stronger then his inner urges. So when you looked at him, he held his ground, a smirk on his lips covering the omega inside wanting to be in your arms. You raised an eyebrow and just walked away

Let's say Kaeya felt like whimpering but he stopped himself. Anyways throughout the days, he would catch a glimpse of you and for some reason, he would walk up to you with a flirty grin and start up a conversation with you

Maybe it was because your voice was music to his ears or the way your predatory eyes would drive chills down his spine and for that did he curse the archons above for making him a mess for you

But you, well you didn't mind having a handsome man around you if anything he was much more different then the omegas who would literally throw themselves at you, brining you with gifs and other crap that you really paid no care

Oh? You know?

Tha Kaeya is an omega?

You smirked, seeing the too confident man blabbering about this and that, desperately hiding the omega but your eyes and nose were sharp enough to know what's hidden, but for his sake, you kept your mouth shut

But in each passing day, the two of you became very close. Kaeya would come with a rose in hand, giving it to you with a cheeky smile and you would accept it, each day was like that

He would come to you with a rose, and would quite literally hang around you, giving you his full on attention and you didn't care, your alpha instincts accepting him and the more you two hanged around, the more subtle touches were placed, a playful smile here and their, hungry eyes looking at each other

Until one day, Kaeya was no where to seen. You looked around at your usual place, expecting to see his jumpy self around the corner, but sadly no. Going to the HQ, you were let in by Jean who knew why you were here.

As she told you about the 'problem' that Kaeya had, you both ended up standing at a door. "Here, this his door....please be gentle with him, he has always been alone when it comes to these type of issue and you have been friends for months, so just be understanding, ok?"

You nodded, soon she walked away and as she turned the corner, you opened the door slowly with the key Jean gave you. When opening the door, a sweet smell of vanilla hit your nose, your alpha slowly wanting to take the reins but you kept a firm hand

On the bed, a nest of blankets were around a naked body, Kaeya weakly looked up and when sensing an alpha he let a whimper out, fear evident in his eyes (he had no eyepatch)

You slowly entered in and closed the door, so no nearby alpha would sense him. Kaeya, at recognizing you almost, almost, pounced on you but fear was the one that had control and so his body started to shake, he felt weak, vulnerable

But you approached him, slowly and steady, watching for any reaction and when you finally got to be infront of him, his beautiful blue eyes looked up at you, and that's when he let everything out

You didn't touch him, you didn't do anything until he told you so, he opens up to you, he confessed that he loved you, he broke as he told you everything

Until he stopped, his shaky arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close and that's when you moved

"Kaeya...."

"I-I don't want you to...you know that ...just cuddle with me....please"

And so you did, you didn't claim him, not until he was ready

Diluc

(music: waiting game by banks)

Diluc was.....an interesting person to say the least.

He was seen as an Alpha, always at the top of everyone, man and woman alike looking for his hand but everytime he would look away

Like his brother, he was an omega but he was very good at hiding it, besides he looked and acted like an alpha so he was confident of keeping his little secret hidden

That was until you came in all of your glory

You had come to the party that Dawn's Winery owner would always celebrate it, you were a visitor from Liyue, known for being a bounty hunter and also by fighting side by side with the outlander

So when Diluc saw you with the blonde traveler he didn't expect much

That was well until you moved your attention on him and when he noticed the way your eyes would look up and down at him, he felt chills

Obviously he was used to being eyed by a lot of omegas and betas

But the way you looked at him, the way your words would be ingraved deep in his mind was different

And then when you revealed that you were infact an alpha, Diluc almost choked on the grape juice he was drinking

Well shit

Trying to act cool, he had looked at you and when he saw you already looking at him did his omega almost broked his facade but he quickly recovered or so he thought

You had keen eyes, being able to calculate your next prey's step, catching even the smallest thing

So when seeing the infamous young owner of the winery to crack just a little and for you to sense an omega with him, you were if not a little bit confused

Anyways, after the party, you have gotten very close to the quiet male, or maybe he was the one that got close with you because now everytime you tend to go to his bar he is on the other side of the bar giving you a small smile

But you didn't mind, he was cute and a good man, so you just played along

Instead of sitting in the car corner, you would sit close to the bar and start a conversation to the suddenly shy red hair

Through the small talk y'all made, you two became friends, Diluc would be on you side most of the time when walking together, an arm out for you to hold and glaring at any passing omega to fuck off

And the more time you guys hanged out, the more you would notice that he really wants an alpha, and you smiled maybe he was the one...

Nahhhhh

Nope pffftttt

You shrugged the thought off and kept walking with the grumpy omega

But the more days you two passes together, the more not 'dates', and on how protective the two of you were with each other, the more feelings the two of developed for each other

And time was running out, you were from Liyue after all, and home called.

When the message of you leaving Monsdtat reached Diluc, he went running, searching for you and when you appeared through the crowd with a bag hanging on you back and the outlander on your side, his heart skipped a beat

Walking towards you, he looked at you and then at the outlander who just nodded at him and walked away giving you guys space

"Well...um I'm going back to Liyue with the traveler...."

"I-I know, just wanted to say......"

"Yes?" Curiosity taking over as you looked at him

Diluc looked like he was having an internal battle and he was, he wanted to tell you so much, his feelings towards you, how he wanted to be by your side but he quickly shut those thoughts away

"Good luck on your trip" and that were the words that he had said to you, and your heart broke a little but you thanked him and kept your journey, not noticing the saddened pup

Throughout the journey, your thoughts kept taunting you, and it hurted so with a final thought you looked at the young traveler, and making up an excuse which you shouldn't since the outlander had a smirk with lil feisty fairy giving you a knowing look you both rushed back to Monsdtat

When going to Dawn's Winery mansion, the traveler had left you, and you were alone standing infront of the door and knocked

You opened the door after a few moments of silence with the spare key that Diluc had given you only to be met with silence

No maids no personal assistance or not even a noise being heard, until a smell of the blue flowers that you would give Diluc when he was sad came to your nose

And soon you followed the smell, coming up to a door and when you didn't get any response, you opened the door

Their he was, hugging his body with his big red eyes filled with tears and you quickly rushed towards him as he had opened his arms and you hugged him

And on that moment the two of you spilled your emotions to each other, expressing each other the truth that the two of you have been trying to ignore and as you had him in between your legs, his head cuddled on your chest, your fingers massaging his scalp

The two of you knew that neither would be leaving each other's side

You had waited long enough and he had been alone for a long time

Hope you guys liked it :)

I didn't know if you wanted NSFW or just plain fluff so I just went with this 😌

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #diluc #kaeya #diluc x y/n #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader

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sk1fanfiction · 3 years

Text

the many faces of tom riddle, part 2

-you dislike frank dillane’s portrayal of tom riddle only because you don’t think he’s attractive-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION (and this time, featuring a bit of armchair child psych from a student).

Wait, don’t clutch your pearls just yet. Compose yourself.

I am about to explain why it’s not actually that bad, and Dillane’s portrayal is vastly underappreciated.

I definitely agree that his portrayal comes off as ‘creepier’. It’s not helped by the stylistic decisions in the scene -- the smeary, green filter gives the scene a sinister quality.

Even Slughorn looks suspect here, which is somewhat appropriate, given that he is complicit in this crime.

Again, this scene is very much intended to be slightly off.

You’ll notice (and I’ll discuss this again when I talk about Coulson’s portrayal) that Dillane is almost always shot from at least slightly below, which makes the lower third of his face look bigger (and thus more menacing). The lighting also makes his eyes glow in a really unnatural way. There’s an echo-y effect to make his voice (and not Slughorn’s) sound unnerving.

People talk about how Coulson would have looked in this scene, and if he was filmed in the same way (monotone, smeary/shadowy filter, and always from below), he’d look a bit creepy, too.

But all of this, imo, is for a pretty good reason. Slughorn isn’t the POV character. Harry is. Harry is learning about how a young Lord Voldemort wheedled the secret of Horcruxes out of an unsuspecting teacher. Unlike in COS, he expects Riddle to be evil. And, so, Harry’s new perception of Tom Riddle literally colors how we perceive him.

Take this shot, for example: he does that head-tilt thing that Coulson does, and it’s actually... kind of... cute???

Imagine Dillane filmed from slightly above, like Coulson usually is, and it looks even more innocent. (I mean, come on, he does not look like he’s killed four people, does he?) It’s not hard to imagine teachers being taken in by this kind of act.

Even that little smirk he does when the camera (aka, Harry’s gaze) pans in, is for Harry’s benefit. No one else noticed that.

However, I still fail to find this creepy, like, at all. Yes, it’s a fake smile, but he’s portraying a different side of Tom Riddle to Coulson. Whereas, in COS, he’s in his vindictive, murderous element, where he’s free to express himself, in this scene, Tom Riddle is doing what he does best -- manipulating and managing appearances.

This entire scene is an act. And because Harry knows it’s an act, it should look a bit stilted.

From the Hepzibah Smith scene in the books: Voldemort smiled mechanically and Hepzibah simpered.

So, Harry is pretty adept at parsing Tom’s fake expressions.

But just look at the expressiveness in his face: he goes from brooding, he blinks, and his entire face changes to this charming (fake) smile.

At the risk of sounding elitist, I’m a bit tired of seeing the word ‘psychopath’, which is not an actual medical diagnosis recognised by any psychological or psychiatric institution, being tossed about, especially with reference to Tom Riddle (and from a neuroscience perspective, it’s doubly annoying). There’s no such thing as ‘insanity’ or ‘psychopathy’ or being ‘crazy.’

-although I use it too a shorthand in conversation to distinguish ‘canon’ Tom from his ‘softer’ OOC counterparts, I really shouldn’t-

Unfortunately, I’ve seen the ‘psychopath’ comment used time-and-time again as an excuse or a full explanation of ‘why Tom Riddle went evil’ (JKR in fact, has made a weird comment in an interview, basically saying that ‘psychopaths can’t be redeemed or learn adaptive coping skills’ or whatever), which really just goes to show the lack of understanding and compassion when personality disorders, especially, are concerned.

But what I like most about the opening of this scene, actually, is that first, listless expression. And this is where we get slightly into headcanon, but Tom Riddle is the opposite of a happy, mentally healthy teenager. By Dumbledore’s own admission, he has no real friends. He has no parental figures, no real attachments. Yes, he might derive some pride or enjoyment from being good at magic and top of his class and all that, but I really don’t think even Tom finds that truly fulfilling. There is nothing that makes him happy.

In fact, although some might perceive it as ‘creepy’, I think that listless expression is an accurate window into Tom’s psyche.

I know people aren’t big on Freud, but I think that he does make some interesting points (also, cut the guy some slack for being relatively open-minded for the Victorian Era, and inventing psychoanalysis and while yes he did say some sexist stuff, good luck finding a field of science that isn’t male-focused and makes crazy generalizations about women, especially back in the day) about the possible origins of thanatophobia, the fear of death.

According to Freud, thanatophobia is a disguise for a deeper source of concern -- he did not believe that people were capable of conceptualizing their own death to that extent. Instead, he believed that this phobia was caused by unresolved childhood conflicts that the sufferer cannot come to terms with or express emotion towards.

Now, I know Freud almost always attributes mental distress to childhood experiences, but I think in this case, it really has some merit.

According to attachment theory, the basis of how we form attachments in adulthood is dictated by learning it from experiences with caregivers in the first two years of life. We know Tom was born in an orphanage, and that he didn’t cry much as a baby, and subsequently, probably received very little attention. Compounded with possible genetic factors and his caregivers being afraid or wary of his magical abilities, he later struggled to form attachments because of this -- I would actually go so far as to say that by the time Dumbledore meets him, Tom Riddle is severely depressed.

And that flat affect and anhedonia, I think, comes over very well in Dillane’s portrayal. There’s kind of this resignation -- a very deep sadness and loneliness to his character.

Of course, he doesn’t derive any comfort or fulfillment from human interaction, because (to borrow the description from the Wikipedia article on ‘Reactive attachment disorder’, which Tom meets all the criteria for) he has a “grossly disturbed internal working model of relationships.” In other words, he is unresponsive to all offers of attachment because of this unacknowledged trauma.

(You could arguably class Tom as having an avoidant attachment style, but I think in his case the trauma and its effect on him are severe enough to call it disordered.)

RAD isn’t particularly well-characterized (especially neurologically) and quite new in the literature, but here are some links if anyone is interested in doing a bit of digging: Link 1 | Link 2 | Paper 1 | Paper 2

And, instead of trying to resolve this conflict in a healthy way, or at least recognize that this is why he can’t be happy and try to learn how to cope from there, he (a) represses the desire for human attachment and (b) funnels that negative emotion into being the fault of Death, the Grim Reaper (again, to borrow Freudian terms).

And we all know how that turned out...

(And now, this should go without saying, but psychoanalyzing fictional characters has nothing to do with assigning a morality to mental disorders. Mental illness is neither a cause nor an excuse for criminal behavior -- in the same way that the cycle of violence is a phenomenon, not an excuse. Tom Riddle did not become a genocidal murderer because, in common parlance, he was a ‘psychopath’ -- he was not necessarily ‘predisposed’ to evil and could just as easily chosen to not follow the path that he did -- instead, he willingly made poor choices. This is a descriptive analysis, not a justification -- a ‘how’, not a ‘why’)

Here’s a Carl Jung quote that articulates it better:

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

Yes, he’s a bit stiff (and a lot more formal than in COS during his *conversation* with Harry). But, and here comes the controversial bit, this is appropriate for a portrayal of a schoolboy in the 1940s. The upright posture is accurate -- respectful, polite -- everything Tom Riddle would have been expected to be (and even Coulson, in that scene with Dumbledore in COS, is quite stiff). Even the way he looks at Slughorn and maintains eye contact is very *respectful.*

And, Dillane (I think he’s seventeen or eighteen here) actually looks like a believable sixteen-year-old. I’m sorry, I love Coulson’s portrayal as well, but he looks around nineteen in COS; so in HBP, he probably would have looked at least twenty-two or so. (Sorry, not sorry).

This may be influenced by my own interpretation of the character (because I imagine Tom always looks young for his age, and Dillane fits that archetype, but I don’t think that’s very popular), but I think young Tom Riddle is supposed to be *cute* and a bit stiff/shy/awkward (being charming and awkward is very much possible), if you consider the way Dippet and Slughorn treat him.

To support this, he says very few words to Hepzibah Smith (in the book, that scene’s not in the movie), and is very... bashful and coy during the whole interaction? I think yes, he’s charismatic, but he’s not loud, suave, openly flirtatious or particularly verbose. Tom Riddle should have a quiet magnetism, and to me, that came across in Dillane’s portrayal.

"I'd be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me," said Voldemort quietly, and Hepzibah gave another girlish giggle.

...

"Are you all right, dear?"

"Oh yes," said Voldemort quietly. "Yes, I'm very well. ..."

Even the ‘ugly, greedy look’ described in the books, when Slughorn starts spilling his secrets, is there. This is how he’s supposed to look! Slughorn glimpses it, but doesn’t understand its significance. Harry does.

“Slughorn looked deeply troubled now: He was gazing at Riddle as though he had never seen him plainly before, and Harry could tell that he was regretting entering into the conversation at all.”

Remember the context of this moment, as well: He’s just discovered how to create multiple Horcruxes. Excuse him for looking a bit creepy (if not now, then when?).

Here’s two direct quotes of Harry’s impression of Tom Riddle in that scene:

“But Riddle's hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy, he could no longer hide his longing.”

“Harry had glimpsed his face, which was full of that same wild happiness it had worn when he had first found out that he was a wizard, the sort of happiness that did not enhance his handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human. . . .”

Tom Riddle’s Horcruxes are a direct metaphor for his refusal to allow himself to heal from his trauma -- instead, he continues to inflict destruction on himself and others.

His desire to continue creating more Horcruxes sort of resounds with the fact that self-harm can also become a compulsion.

I’d also like to digress a bit to discuss the Gaunt Ring, while we’re at it. While we’ve talked about his attachment issues in general, this discussion is particularly pertinent to father figures. And while Tom’s attachment issues are extensive, I think there’s ample evidence that as a child, he craved acknowledgement and acceptance from a father figure -- the man who gave him the only thing Tom truly owned -- his name. He would have had a vaguely defined mother figure in Mrs. Cole, perhaps.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was.... He didn’t like magic, my father ... He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage ... but I vowed to find him ... I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name ... Tom Riddle. ..."

We know that by June of 1943 (COS flashback) Tom has already uncovered the truth of his parentage; he knows he is the Heir of Slytherin via the Gaunt line, and he describes himself to Dippet as ‘Half-blood, sir. Witch mother, Muggle father.’

In Part 1, I discussed the high probability that as a presumed ‘Mudblood’, Tom Riddle was treated rather poorly in Slytherin House. But by this scene in the fall of 1943, he is surrounded by a group of adoring hangers-on. Why?

In my opinion; the Gaunt Ring. We know that Tom stopped wearing it after school, so its sentimental value couldn’t have been that great. We know he likes to collect objects (which I believe stems from his attachment issues -- he seeks comfort in things instead of other people).

Signet rings (such as the one belonging to Tutankhamun seen above) were used to stamp legal documents and such, in order to certify someone’s identify -- like an e-certificate, if you will. Like Tutankhamun’s ring, the Gaunt Ring bears an identifying symbol -- Marvolo Gaunt tells us proudly that it bears the Peverell family crest.

By the Middle Ages, anyone of influence, including the nobility, wore a signet ring. Rings in antiquity were auspicious -- they signified power, legitimacy, and authority. And so, I believe that all the Sacred Twenty-Eight families would have worn these, too.

And so, bearing the Gaunt Ring would have established Tom Riddle, symbolically and in the eyes of the Sacred Twenty-Eight (his future supporters and followers), as the legitimate heir to the House of Gaunt. This is why, I believe, Tom coveted the ring as soon as he saw it -- not just because it was a family heirloom, and not just because he thought it was a pretty toy for his collection.

(He curses it so that no one else but him can wear the Gaunt Ring safely.)

This is why, to make the legitimization literal as well as symbolic, Tom murders his father and grandparents. It’s not just an act of vindictive, murderous rage due to his perception of being rejected by his father (although it is that, too). And so, Tom, abandoning his search for a father figure (and possibly also giving up on the possibility to allow himself to heal from his own personal trauma rather than continue to inflict it on others), ‘cleanses’ his bloodline, to make himself truly legitimate. It’s rather telling that instead of affirming his legitimacy as a Riddle, which would have put him in line for a nice inheritance, and hey -- money is money -- (thus accepting his half-blood status), he simply kills them all. He has done all the murdering he needs to become immortal (and he hasn’t had the discussion about multiple Horcruxes yet); but yet, he does it again. Frightening stuff.

(Just look how the others look at Tom. All but the one to his left -- possibly Nott, Rosier, or Mulciber -- have their torsos turned towards him. Their attention is on him, while he knowingly regards the viewer/Harry. Tom seems a little uncomfortable with the attention.).

“And there were the half-dozen teenage boys sitting around Slughorn with Tom Riddle in the midst of them, Marvolo's gold-and-black ring gleaming on his finger.”

...

“Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks.”

...

“Tom Riddle merely smiled as the others laughed again. Harry noticed that he was by no means the eldest of the group of boys, but that they all seemed to look to him as their leader.”

The ‘gang’ are true hangers-on; Tom doesn’t seem to pay them much attention.

So, if not via careful flattery or charisma, the attraction must be status.

And perhaps yet more telling...

"I don't know that politics would suit me, sir," he said when the laughter had died away. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing." “A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader's famous ancestor.”

That, in my opinion, is as good as we’re going to get as proof that Tom’s shiny new signet ring (and by extension, his new status) made a big impression on his fellow students.

So, when he returns to Hogwarts, he is ‘pureblood’. He is cleansed of his Muggle roots, and becomes the legitimate heir of the House of Gaunt, now well on his way to becoming Lord Voldemort...

Watch the scene again, with a critical eye, and imagine Slughorn’s perspective, instead of Harry’s. There’s nothing creepy about Tom Riddle... unless you know what he is...

Strip away all the effects of Harry’s gaze (and notice, here he’s still looking at Harry), and he’s quite the charmer, actually.

(I will concede that I don’t like the promotional images where they have him looking like he’s up to no good. And I do wish he blinked once in a while.)

My challenge to you: Rewatch the scene with an open mind, and let me know if you agree that Dillane’s portrayal comes off as depressive rather than ‘creepy.’ And if not, why do you dislike his portrayal?

#tom riddle #character analysis #character study #the many faces of #tom marvolo riddle #frank dillane #i literally could not find any pictures other than these #literal crumbs i swear #i know this is unpopular #people really dislike him i guess #watch the scene again with an open mind i promise you'll like it #i seriously do think he did a good job #tw: mention of child abuse #tw: mention of self-harm #i'm not trying to oversimplify things but you can't deny that maybe if tom was hugged as a child it would have helped #say it with me: psychopathy is not an actual medical diagnosis #it's actual more of a legal/criminal justice term #and people just use it as a synonym for 'evil' at this point so the original meaning is pretty much obscured #and personality disorders should not be moralized #people with personality disorders are not 'evil'

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