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euphoricfilter · 1 year

Text

Stardust || JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x F. Reader

Genre: Fluff || Smut || Friends to Lovers au

Summary: If Jungkook would have known an unintentional orgasm would have led to this, then he would have begged you to work out with him sooner.

Word Count: 5.5k

Tags/ warnings: himbo-ish jk, so much fluff idk where it came from, smut in the forms of: unintentional masturbation turned coregasm, oral (f. receiving), fingering, protected sex (because that’s really cool), mirror sex, doggy style, technically multiple orgasms, they’re both giggly and in love it’s kinda gross, jk is a tits man, he’s obsessed with boobs, it’s all very tame and kinda soft ig

Notes: yay first fic of 2023. this was way harder to write than i’d anticipated, hopefully i pulled through. and if there’s mistakes, no there aren’t!

<3 thank you to my prettiest baby @4amj3zz for reading this atrocity before i posted it

my full masterlist

✯ ✯ ✯

If every living being’s foundation is made of stardust, scattered when born, then Jungkook thinks the two of you were made from the same star.

A friendship that’s near impossible to come by, crafted by the hands of a higher being— delicate fingertips moulding fickle personalities and emotions that seem incomplete when not together. Two angels sent to earth to be each others’ number one in another life they’ll spend together.

Precious, like naturally formed diamonds.

And maybe that’s what your friendship was, one of the world’s little treasures. One everyone yearns for, though only a select few have.

Sure, diamonds can be replicated, graphite turned jewelry, simply there for show. A statement piece if you must.

Fake diamonds and fake friendships that seem to be more common than the real deal. Hard to crack, though not impossible— splitting the two of you up into pitiful shards and lost pieces; where even the most skilled hands have trouble putting it back together.

Jungkook doesn’t remember life before you. Though he thinks it must have been dull, flimsy smiles, and friends that hadn’t bothered to call once they moved away.

His existence so easily forgotten, that the gnawing sadness didn’t seem to last as long as he’d anticipated. Simply walking the path of life alone, though he often thought solitude wasn’t all that bad.

Until your worlds had collided. The big bang of your friendship, a new world, a new start, everything so fresh and untampered with.

He’d thought about what life would be like if one day the two of you were to ever part ways, the very thought of you not being by his side like a harsh punch the gut.

And maybe he had gotten a little teary eyed on those evenings he felt a little softer, a little sadder at the thought of you ever leaving. His hands fumbling around his sheets for his phone, your voice his only remedy for his growing anxiety, where promises were whispered and sleepy smiles remained on your faces as you rested.

Jungkook doubts that day will ever come. And maybe that’s all just wishful thinking, a juvenile dream that the promise you’d made to one another would hold strong for the rest of time, until the two of you lay six feet under. Resting side by side until your bodies rot, flesh becoming one with the earth, what is left of your existence blossoming into something beautiful; perhaps a tree, a flower, truly anything, as long as you were together.

“Together?” you blink up at Jungkook through your lashes, eyebrows creasing in distaste.

Jungkook thinks you look pretty in that moment, even if you are pulling a face at him. The two of you sat at a bench in the park, your head haloed by the setting sun, last of the days warmth kissing both your skin in a gentle goodbye before the moon watches over the two of you.

Littles galaxies reflected in both your eyes, where Jungkook thinks each star in his represents one thing he loves about you; hidden behind the moonlight because he doubt yours represent the same.

“Yes” he nods, hair flopping a little over his forehead, and you push the stray strands out of his eyes. Fingers delicate as they brush over his skin, always so gentle with him that his heart flutters like the delicate wings of a butterfly.

“Kook, I love you— you know I do” and he nods, lips quirking up a little, “But working out just, isn’t for me” you conclude, tone firm and his shoulders deflate. Because he knows it’ll take more than glossy puppy eyes and a pout for you to give in.

“First off, I love you too—“

“Thank you” you nod. But Jungkook doesn’t think you understand the weight behind those words.

“And look, how do you know it’s not for you, if you’ve never tried?”

“You put me off” and Jungkook would have thought you were joking if you didn’t have that deadpan look on your face. One he was all too familiar with.

“Huh” he gawks, “How?”

“You always complain about sore muscles, and the thought of being sweaty grosses me out” your head tips forward dramatically, cushioned by your arms from the table.

“It’s a good ache” he watches you turn your head, lips moulded into an unconvinced pout as you stare up at him through your lashes.

“There is no such thing as a good ache, Jungkook”

“Is too”

“When?” you flail, unbothered as Jungkook’s hands wrap around your wrists.

“Sex ache”

You pause, “Excuse me?”

“You know?” he cocks his head to the side.

“No” you shake your head in utter disbelief.

Jungkook’s mouth falls open, “You’re a little pillow princess aren’t you, I bet you don’t do any of the work”

“Do too, besides—“ you swallow, “It’s none of your business” you pull your hands free of his grasp.

“Come on, I feel like we’re at a point in this relationship we can share these things” his cheek rests atop of your head, each syllable pulled out into a whine.

“I don’t wanna hear about your sex life, Jungkook” you huff.

You watch him sit up ramrod straight, brain whirring behind his eyes. You think that if he thought any harder you’d be able to hear the echo of his voice.

“Actually, I don’t really wanna hear about yours either” his nose scrunches up, melting your resolve.

A secret charm of his that he didn’t know he had; and you’d never tell him either, no way in hell would you let him weaponize your weakness against you when your heart could barely stand being sat so close to him.

“Best friends don’t always share everything” you quip, only it leaves a tangy taste on your tongue.

“I suppose” Jungkook nods, evidently less enthusiasm radiating off him.

Best friends. It always wet your mood. Like sour candy that’s too sour, or a cute dog that’s breath smells like a rotting carcass.

But that’s what you were, introductions to new classmates or new lovers; it was always best friends. Two simple words that felt like utter shit to say, tumbling past your lips like vomit and then you had to rawdog the aftertaste because you don’t have any toothpaste or mints nearby.

Never anything less, even though there was definitely a lot more going on between the two of you. (Not that either of you had any idea about that.)

It’s a wonder as to how neither of you had grasped the fact that every previous relationship the two of you had, had ended because of the other. Nothing ever seeming to fit in place, the click never being there when it came to someone else.

Communication is key in upholding a relationship of any kind, issues easily resolved with hours of conversation turned mutual understanding, and progression made with a mix of both actions and words. As two people whose love languages were physical touch, the former is just as important as the latter.

One of the only reasons your friendship has lasted this long, is that you both value each other enough to communicate when necessary.

Apart from when you could probably really use it, unidentifiable emotions weaving into your hearts, mixed with a dose of denial can really set you back when you’re near infatuated with your closest friend.

It’s not that either of you had never considered a relationship with one another, others outside your little bubble had brought it up enough times that the meager possibility of it actually happening had been cemented into your thick skulls.

Something nice tickling both your brains at the fact so many people thought you were together together; like, in love together.

Long gone were the days where you’d blurt out your denial to dating accusations with rose dusted cheeks, simply believing the world had a thing against opposite sex friendships. Now, the two of you just laughed off whoever liked to comment on how good you looked as a couple. (Which had brought more than a few of Jungkook’s relationships to turmoil)

It’s just that neither of you believed the other wanted anything more than friendship. A rookie mistake on both your parts, especially when you’d both establish that every and all emotions were to be discussed with one another, no matter what you felt.

“One time” you break the silence, any way to ease the growing tension between the two of you “I’ll work out with you one time. And never again”

You watch the smile as it pulls at the corner of his lips, the prettiest smile, your favorite smile, enough of a reward for whatever pain you’re about to put yourself through. Because as long as Jungkook was happy, then you’d crawl to the ends of the earth if it meant you got to see this smile one more time.

“I love you” he bends down, sloppy kiss pressed to your cheek and you can’t help your own smile, heated cheeks covered as you swat him away from your face. Wiping his saliva from your skin with the back of your hand.

“Whatever” you tut, though Jungkook sees through your faux annoyance.

“We can use my at-home gym as well, so we won’t even be in public”

“Wonderful. Let’s go back now, I’m gonna freeze my tits off if we stay any later”

You don’t catch Jungkook’s gaze flickering down to your chest, lingering a little longer than proper before he’s slinging his zip-up hoodie around your shoulders. Eyes flickering down to his hands briefly before he’s knocking shoulders with you.

“Chivalry isn’t dead” you utter, falling into Jungkook’s side when his arm falls over your shoulder.

✯ ✯ ✯

Jeon Jungkook was sex on legs when he worked out.

You were no stranger to him training, countless vacations together, where the morning was spent with him doing press-up on the balcony or the occasional few times he’d bench-press you for a laugh.

You’d never found it funny though, pussy throbbing between your thighs as he’d grab onto you, arms flexing deliciously. And he never seemed to question why you’d lock yourself up in your room after, purely a coincidence that you’d disappear for an hour after his little stunt.

You were no stranger to a half naked Jungkook either.

Nor were you a juvenile teenager whose panties got in a twist when she saw a toned stomach.

However, this wasn’t just any toned stomach.

Jeon Jungkook was built like Adonis. Carved where every crevice had meaning and every flaw only enhanced his beauty. And it’s hard to think the bushy haired, acne prone teen boy you’d first befriended had turned into this.

If puberty had benefited anyone, it was Jungkook.

“We’ll do something easy today, okay?” he claps and you nod, watching as he saunters over to a basket.

“Pink or blue” he holds up two yoga mats.

“I didn’t think you were into rhinestones” you snort, sun catching on the bedazzled rim of the pink mat— streaks of pink painting the wall.

Jungkook drops said mat, chucking you the blue one before he’s dropping to his knees on the floor.

“It’s one of my exes” he tells you, motioning for you to sit.

If people were flowers, then this is the moment you would have wilted. Deflating in on yourself; it’s not that you were jealous per-say. It’s not like him and his ex were dating at all but still. The very mention of her was enough for you to roll your eyes.

“And you didn’t throw it out?” the words hurdle out your mouth before you can even think about what you’re saying.

“No?” his eyes meet your own, “I’m not throwing away good gym equipment”

You sigh, somehow expecting no less from him. Jungkook was a man of many skills, and he’d hounded you to try hobby after hobby with him— but nothing got him going like a good work out. If all other passion in life disappeared then he would still have working out as his escape.

You sigh, “I have somewhere to be later, so let’s hurry this up” a little white lie, but that never hurt anyone.

“You’re not going on another one of those shitty blind dates, are you?” he groans and you whine.

“I told you, I’m never going on any of those ever again”

“You better not” he unrolls his mat, and you follow.

“Or what?” you turn your nose up at him and Jungkook’s foot collides with your thigh.

“On your back, you brat.”

✯ ✯ ✯

“How much more” you flop against the mat, eyes closing.

“That was only the warm up” Jungkook hums, pushing himself up off the floor.

You hear him walk to the other side of the room, cupboard door creaking open as he rummages around for something.

You peek up at him through your lashes when he throws a towel over your back.

“Roll that up” he motions towards it, coming to sit beside you, “And up onto your back again”

Your eyes widen by a fraction when he gently takes the towel out of your hands, pushing your knees apart before he’s closing them; towel stuffed between your thighs.

Your gaze travels down the length of your body, thighs twitching as Jungkook’s fingers wrap around your ankles.

“All you have to do is raise your legs like this okay?” and he demonstrates, making sure to keep your legs straight as he lifts them to a ninety degree angle from your torso. “Leg raises should be easy, even for you” he hums.

“What’s that supposed to mean” you snap, ready to push yourself up, except Jungkook’s hands press down over your chest.

“Hey! No complaining”

You swallow thickly, aware of Jungkook’s eyes on you as you raise your legs on your own this time.

“Pretty good, remember to tense your core when you do it, okay?”

You nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you do as you’re told.

Your eyes squeeze shut, body hyper aware of each small movement the towel has right over your clit. Pussy throbbing inside your panties and you worry your slick had started to soak through your shorts.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to take notice of your growing predicament, hands hovering over your calf to make sure you’re raising your legs all the way. Though that’s the least of your worries as you feel each new wave of unadulterated pleasure pulse through your core.

“Not so bad huh?” he grins.

It’s a strange sensation, pure arousal ebbing up your body, every brush of your panties over your clit, weight of the towel over your slit slowly bringing you to the precipice of an orgasm.

“I don’t think—“ you start, cutting yourself off with an arm covering your face at a particularly intense wave of arousal. Your stomach tightening at the feeling.

“Just a few more, you’re doing great”

“Kook, I really don’t think—“ your hand clamps over your mouth as Jungkook’s fingers take hold of your legs, helping you raise them; and that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge. And you can’t help the surprised moan that drips off your lips.

Your knees bend, nudging against your tits as your hand falls over your sodden pussy, dull wave of your orgasm throbbing throughout your body.

Jungkook looks down at you, eyes wide as you simply lay there with your hands between your legs.

“Did you just piss yourself?” he asks, mouth falling open in awe.

“What the fuck?” you cry, “I just came you idiot”

Jungkook’s cheeks flush red, “Oh” he nods, “Oh. You had a— holy shit”

“Don’t look at me like that” your eyes glaze over with tears, heat prickling up your body in embarrassment, “I didn’t mean to, it just happened”

Your feet fall to the floor, towel falling from between your thighs as you let out a stuttered breath, body still buzzing with the after affects or your surprise orgasm.

“Jungkook?” you peek up at him through hooded eyes, heart pattering so hard in your chest you could feel it in your throat.

Jungkook’s eyes meet your own, “That was so fucking hot” he groans, “Looked so pretty”

You watch as his hand rubs over his shorts, his own arousal hard to hide as his head tips back in a way that extenuates his neck.

“Huh?” your eyes widen, willing yourself to not look at what his hands were doing.

“Should have known something like this would have turned you on”

“I wasn’t even turned on” you exasperate, “I clenched my core like you said and it just happened”

“Mhmm” and you can tell he’s unconvinced.

“Stop rubbing your dick, you horny piece of shit” you clamp a hand over your eyes, thighs clenching when he lets out a deep groan.

“Can’t help it” he lets out a sigh, “I’ve been dreaming of what you’d look like when you came, shame it wasn’t on my cock”

Your hand falls from your eyes, “Dreaming?”

“God, haven’t I made it obvious?” he asks, his own hands falling to his sides, though now you have a full view of his straining erection.

“Made what obvious?” you whisper.

“That I like you” he asks and you gawk at him.

“You, like me? I’ve been trying to hint that I like you” you point at him, mouth falling open in disbelief.

“Huh?” it’s Jungkook’s turn for furrowed brows, “I swear you didn’t like me”

“I could have sworn you didn’t like me”

Jungkook snorts, “When did I ever say that?”

“You’re unbelievable”

“Me? What about you?”

Your body lays flaccid, muscles loose; heart hammering in your ears as Jungkook leans back on his hands.

“How long?” you ask, not daring to look up at him.

“High school”

You push a palm into the socket of your eye, low groan rumbling up your throat, “I’ve liked you since, I don’t know, probably high school as well”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, voice soft and you can feel yourself tearing up— so many emotions plaguing your mind at once you don’t know how to feel.

Jungkook scoots closer to you, “I could say the same thing about you” you huff.

“Why’re you crying” he frowns, thumb gentle as it brushes against your damp cheek.

“We wasted so many years. I seriously thought— you’ve had so many girlfriends”

“Because I thought you didn’t feel the same, I guess I thought my feelings would go away if I gave my heart to someone else. And then you started dating around too and I really thought I’d never have a chance”

“Me too” you sigh, nose scrunching up in distaste for all your failed relationships.

“Guess it didn’t work out for either of us huh?” he hums and you nod.

“I think we’re both stupid” you murmur.

And Jungkook nods, “I agree”

“What do we do now?” you push yourself up onto your elbows, frown on your face.

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook’s head hovers over your own, the sun meeting the moon at the same point in the sky— your eclipse. The rest of your world suddenly shrouded in darkness, all you can see, think, smell, everything just Jungkook.

You nod, eyes flitting across his face as his arms cage your head. You can see his biceps flexing in your peripherals, thick muscle straining under the weight of his torso.

Jungkook’s lips hover over your own, a breaths width away from touching. You tilt your head up, pillowy lips cushioning your own and that’s when everything falls into place.

There’s nothing desperate about the kiss, ever so gentle and slow, the two of you aware that lost time can be made up in the future as you simply bask in this moment; your worlds aligning, tilting on the same axis, everything just perfect and right, and your hearts beating in sync, and breathing stuttered as you both pull away with hesitance.

Your hands cup Jungkook’s cheeks, eyes searching his own for anything, just something to tell you this wasn’t all a dream— that he really did like you back.

“You’re so pretty, you know?” he whispers, his lips pressing a featherlight kiss to the corner of your lips.

“No” you smile, giggle bubbling up your throat and Jungkook can’t help but grin down at you.

“I’ll tell you every day, all the time. You’ll get sick of me”

“I could never get sick of you, Jungkook” you push yourself up onto your elbows, noses bumping.

He tilts his head, kiss firm, and you moan as his tongue licks at the seam of your lips, a silent plea for access.

You oblige, arms slung over his shoulders as you bring his body closer to your own, heat radiating off the two of you in thick waves.

“You taste so good” he groans, hands wandering down your body, teasing as they pull up the hem of your hoodie, “Want this off”

Your fingers tug at the offending material, dragging it up your body, “Hang on” you pull away from the kiss, and Jungkook feels his cock twitch at the sight of you. Red swollen lips, a sheen of his saliva coating them.

You pull your hoodie over your head, throwing it somewhere, a problem for later. Thighs clenching as Jungkook stares down at you— eyes wandering.

“And this” his fingers skim over the edge of your sports bra, dancing over your skin, mapping you out of every little spot he wants to kiss.

You hesitate.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable” Jungkook’s smile is gentle, retracting his hands and you want to whine at the loss of contact.

“I want to” you tell him, hoping the shake in your voice didn’t sound too unconvincing. The incessant throbbing between your legs wouldn’t go away unless Jungkook helped you out and your patience was slowly wearing thin.

“But?” he urges.

“I’m nervous” you admit and he smiles; reassuring.

“How can I help?”

You squirm under his gaze, fizzling embarrassment painting your cheeks red, “Can we both—“ you cut yourself off with a whine.

“Come on, gotta use your words, my love”

“Can we both get naked” you splutter, “At the same time?”

Jungkook’s head falls back, fully belly laugh wracking through his body, “Of course”

You tug your shorts off, Jungkook following you; a pile of both your clothes laying forgotten by your head. You’re too distracted tugging your sports bra off to see Jungkook’s length slap against his stomach. Tip of his cock an angry red, his fingers barely touching his shaft as he closes them around the length.

“Oh” he croons, “How pretty. Can I touch you?”

You nod, falling onto your back.

Jungkook’s careful as he touches you, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, testing the waters as he tugs at them, eliciting a breathy moan from you.

“Feels good?” his voice low, and you nod; hips involuntarily bucking upwards when you finally cast a glance at his length. Eyes widening a little in awe.

His fingers dig into your flesh, and he bends down, lips closing around one of your nipples. Your back arches, mouth falling open in a silent moan as his teeth nip at the sensitive skin; tugging in a way that sends warm pleasure straight to your core.

He kisses over your chest, lips worshipping your skin, fingers skimming over the underside of your boob.

Each gentle press of his lips are searing as he works down your body. And your breath hitches as his hovers over your pussy, folds glistening with your arousal.

“Oh baby” he groans, and your thighs twitch as his warm breath fans over your core.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, impatient as they tug him closer to where you need him; an embarrassed whine falling past your lips when he kisses over you clit, once, then twice.

“Jungkook” you squeak, legs tensing when he finally wraps his lips around it, tongue flicking at your clit meanly.

He simply hums, vibrations sending a new wave of pleasure straight through your body, another gush of wetness dribbling from your hole. Jungkook wastes no time, fingers scooping up your leaking arousal before he’s pushing them into you.

“Oh” your chest stutters a breath as he pulls his fingers out of you, tongue licking a broad stripe over your cunt before his thumb brushes over your clit.

“You like that?” he asks, though the question was rhetorical as he repeats the motion. Tongue teasing over your hole before he’s lapping up your slick; sucking at your folds, squelching lewd accompanied by each hearty moan.

Your thighs start to shake, clamping around Jungkook’s head though that barely deters him, as he pushes your legs open by your knees.

“Stop. Kook— please” you whimper, “wanna cum around your cock”

That catches his attention, and with one final kiss to your clit he’s pushing himself onto his elbows.

Jungkook looks like the epitome of sin, slick stained chin and swollen red lips, unashamed as he licks your arousal off his face, humming in satisfaction as your chest stutters out a breath.

“Lemme get a condom” he murmurs, lips pressing another kiss over your knee before he’s pushing himself to stand. Your eyes follow his body, heavy cock bobbing against his stomach with every step he takes.

“Hopefully they’re not expired” he calls from the other room, and you giggle at that, “We’re good” he flashes you a grin as he drops back between your legs; foil wrapper held between two fingers.

You watch his fingers run down his length, thumb brushing over his slit and you feel slick dribble out of your hole as a bead of pre-cum coats the head of his cock shiny.

“Please” your head tips back, hands impatient as they tug at your nipples; Jungkook completely entranced by the sight. “Hurry, hurry” you nudge his thigh with your foot, and albeit reluctant, he tears his eyes away from your tits.

He rips the condom open with his teeth, a cheesy attempt at seducing you, and you weren’t about to tell him all he had to do was breathe and you panties would dampen.

He rolls the rubber down his length, fingers wrapping around his cock as he tugs a few times. You choose that moment to flip yourself over, hips raised as your chest lays flat against the floor and Jungkook moans.

“My pretty baby” he croons, hands roaming your ass before he’s pulling your cheeks apart; eyes fixed on your clenching cunt. Ever so enticing, silently begging to be filled and fucked until you can’t think or walk; a perfect excuse for Jungkook to pamper you a little.

You wiggle your hips, giggle muffled in the crook of your elbow has he parts your lips with his thumb, gently dipping into you hole before he’s pulling out.

“Please, Jungkook”

And that’s all it takes for him to line the head of his cock up with you entrance, tip nudging against your clit before he’s pushing into you; every inch stretching you apart deliciously.

“So good” you sigh, walls clenching around him and Jungkook can’t help the stutter of his hips, punching the air out of your lungs at the sudden intrusion.

“Sorry—“ his fingers dig into your hips, “Just feels so good, sucking me in”

You rock back onto his cock, breathy moan tumbling past your lips as your ass meets his pelvis; cock fully tucked into your pussy.

“Give me a moment” you shudder, body thrumming in anticipation.

Jungkook hums, hands wandering your body, fingers dancing over your skin. A surprised moan echoes throughout the room as his hands grab both your tits, squeezing them, fingers rubbing over both your nipples sending hot pleasure straight to your cunt.

He can feel you rhythmically clenching around him, walls sucking him in as you rock forward an inch before you’re sinking back down on his length.

“Okay” you nod, fingers holding onto the edge of the yoga mat.

“You sure?” he asks, pulling out to the tip, hips slow as he plunges back into you.

“Mhmm”

You feel Jungkook’s fingers dig into the meat of your hips, picking up the pace of his thrusts.

You can’t help each near pornographic moan that’s pushed out of you with each harsh slap of Jungkook’s hips meeting your ass, skin smacking wet as your slick coats your thighs.

“So good for me” his head tips back, arms hooking around your bent elbows.

You let out a squeak as he sits you up, and your walls constrict around his length as he pushes deeper inside of you, gush of wetness clinging to his thighs.

“So good” your head tips back onto his shoulder, knees helping you bounce up his length.

Your back arches when the head of cock hits your g-spot, ring of creamy slick gathering at the base of his cock each time you pull up to the tip.

“Look at that” Jungkook murmurs into your ear, one hand tangling into your hair as the other settles over your throat.

He tugs your head up, and you catch your reflection in the full length mirror; insides of your thighs coated in a sheen of your slick, Jungkook’s hips thrusting his cock up into you, both your bodies glistening with sweat.

The red hue of your cheeks flushes down your neck and chest, shade darkening with each wet squelch of your cunt as Jungkook helps you bounce in his lap.

He watches your tits bounce, both his hands wandering to grab them, pulling your back closer to chest as he pounds into you.

“I’m gonna cum” you hiccup, hands scrambling to hold onto his bicep as your other hand travels down your body, fingers gathering up your slick before you’re circling your clit.

You thighs start to shake, crescent moons indented into your skin as Jungkook’s grip on your chest tightens, your walls throbbing around his cock, drawing him closer to his orgasm.

“Yeah?” his hips stutter, “Come for me then, pretty. Let’s come together”

You moan, fingers unrelenting as you thrum at your clit in tight circles. Your orgasm wracks throughout your entire body when it hits, stomach tensing as your cum coats Jungkook cock, which twitches as he thrusts up into you.

He holds you down on his length, deep groan rumbling through his chest as he shoots his seed into the condom, your walls continuing to milk him of everything he’s got.

“Good girl” he soothes, hands falling to your hips as you fall forwards, cheek pressed against the mat as Jungkook pulls out, thrusting back into you gently.

“Thank you” you whimper, thighs tensing as he pulls himself out of your sodden pussy, folds glistening creamy white.

✯ ✯ ✯

Everything feels right. The two of you tucked into Jungkook’s bed after a shower, both your hands roaming one another’s bodies.

You’d clung to Jungkook’s back as he’d cooked you both dinner, work-out long forgotten as you’d both worked up an appetite. Muscles too sore, too achey, to even think of carrying on anything that isn’t wrapping up warm in each others’ arms.

It’s strange how so much, but nothing had changed. You still danced around each other with practiced ease, hands still feathery light, skimming over hips and backs, where legs are tangled under blankets, cold feet on warm skin.

There was something mellow in the air, a film of freedom, hearts on your sleeves for one another to see, where kisses felt softer, deeper in promise and love.

All the ‘I love yous’ holding the right weight, both understanding that the love you feel is the right kind of love.

He’d thought about it a lot, from the day you’d both confessed; messy, but a confession nonetheless. (And he had made sure to ask you to be his girlfriend in a more romantic setting than his spare room turned gym). That maybe the time growing up as just friends wasn’t wasted.

Failed relationships and sticky breakups simply teaching the two of you the right way to love.

Learning the give and take of relationships, what it truly meant to be in love with another person. Where you want nothing more than their happiness, a pure sort of adoration that consumes your entire being until they’re always on your mind. Small, seemingly insignificant parts of life reminding you of them. Trinkets in corner shops or the changes in season, certain smells, textures of clothing.

Learning about what you want for yourselves and how to take care of one another.

So he doesn’t regret all those years spent as just friends. Because maybe the two of you were too young, too eager, too scared about something as precious as true love. Growing up together, as just friends, might have brought the two of you closer than rushed first loves and petty arguments that you’d look back on and regret.

Red string. Stars. Fate. Destiny. Any of it. Jungkook doesn’t know what brought the two of you together, two souls intertwined until you both part ways when your lights flicker out. Though he thinks you’d reignite them wherever the two of you end up later on, new lives, new worlds. New everything, where he gets to learn about you all over again, explore your being, as you explore his, and you’re moulding into one another once more.

He wonders how long you’ve both been laying there, lips pulled up into lazy smiles, kiss swollen; little galaxies reflected in both your eyes.

Where every glistening star is a reason as to why you love each other. Your galaxies shining with a million different reasons, moonlight no longer veiling what lay beneath.

Because Jungkook thinks, if people were made of stardust before they were born. There’s no doubt in his mind, the two of you were made from the same star.

💫 like, reblog, and feedback is encouraged!! thank you so much for reading <3

taglist: @koikooky @fandems @guesswhatimthinking @slut-formattsun @satisfied18 @apollukee @scastro95 @happygolucky7777 @jjkw-7 @taeboludo @fairy-jaykay @jeonjjks @exactlygreatcoffee @itzz-me-duh @jkkkkkay @starstruckfangirls @tornparts @seoqity @straykidsmaxident @bebejungkook @twilight-love-nochu-main @chimmisbae @redeyezbloodymouth

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp @supernoonanyc

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #bts x reader #bts fic #bts #bts x female reader #bts non idol au #bts au fanfic #jungkook friends to lovers #stardust

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soracities · 1 year

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i saw your tags, and i wanna ask what books "punched you in the gut" (i wanna get punched too)?

SO glad you asked anon omg

Let the Right One In, John Ajvide Lindqvist

i am lewy, Eoghan Ó Tuairisc

Antigone, Jean Anouilh

Tess of the d'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy

Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte

A Tale for the Time Being, Ruth Ozeki

"The Condemned", Stig Dagerman

The Snake, Stig Dagerman

A Moth to a Flame, Stig Dagerman

Giovanni's Room, James Baldwin

From A to X, John Berger

The Plague, Albert Camus

The Myth of Sisyphus: Essays, Albert Camus

How the Soldier Repairs the Gramophone, Saša Stanišić

Posession, A.S. Byatt

A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing, Eimear McBride

"The Husband Stitch", Carmen Maria Machado

The Bloody Chamber, Angela Carter

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong

An Inventory of Losses, Judith Schalansky

The Need for Roots, Simone Weil

Secondhand Time: The Last of the Soviets, Svetlana Alexievich

Deaf Republic, Ilya Kaminsky

Agua Viva, Clarice Lispector

Broken Vessels: Essays, Andre Dubus

The Brothers Karamazov, Fyodor Dostoevsky

One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel García Márquez

The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy

A Field Guide for Getting Lost, Rebecca Solnit

A Thousand Splendid Suns, Khaled Hosseini

Brave New World, Aldous Huxley

We, Yevgeny Zamyatin

Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro

Books Burn Badly, Manuel Rivas

The Memory Police, Yoko Ogawa

The Thirteenth Tale, Diane Setterfield

Uzumaki, Junji Ito

The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

For Two Thousand Years, Mihail Sebastian

#ask #anonymous #book recs

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wynnyfryd · 5 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 23

part 1 | part 22 | ao3

cw: alcohol, recreational drinking

Steve fusses with his hair in the side mirror again, tugging awkwardly at his borrowed clothes. He feels stupid, standing here fidgeting in the parking lot like some kind of nervous freshman, but half of Hawkins seems to be here tonight and Robin’s got him dressed like a loser — worn green flannel and a ripped black tee with a faded picture of The Smiths. Jesus. “Did you really have to dress me like this?”

“What? You look cute!”

“I look like I raided Jonathan Byers’ closet.”

“No, you look like someone a certain neighbor is going to be drooling over all night.” Steve’s grateful for the dark then; for the blush it hides on his cheeks. “It’s not my fault you don't know how to make a deal; if you wanted to borrow a specific shirt, you should have said so before we shook on it.”

“Besides,” she ignores him when he rolls his eyes at her, “you wouldn’t even let me smudge eyeliner on your lower lash line like I wanted to, so I really don't feel like you’ve earned complaining privileges.”

“I’ll complain if I fucking want to,” he grumbles under his breath. He runs a hand through his hair one more time, then forces himself to look away from the mirror. Rolls his shoulders back and down. “He’s not even here, anyway.”

“Ah-ha! So you did check.” She links their arms together, starts dragging Steve across the uneven gravel, her ankles wobbling in her low-heeled boots. “‘Just looking for a good parking spot,’ my ass. God, I’m always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct. I should really play the lottery next time I visit my grandparents..."

“Uh huh.” He’s not sure what luck and correctness have to do with each other, but sure.

She stumbles over a rock; pushes into his side, grinning, “I’m serious! I’ll play the lottery, and I’ll win big, and then you’ll see. Might even split my winnings with you if you’re nice to me.”

“I’m literally so nice to you all the time, but okay. Can’t wait to take half your earnings when you get ten bucks off a scratcher.”

“Hey, five bucks is five bucks! That’s like an hour and a half of our lives.”

Jesus Christ. “That’s just depressing.”

They walk arm and arm down the narrow footpath to the party — ferns brushing their calves, dry dirt beneath their shoes kicking up tiny clouds of dust — and as the path opens up Steve sees the place is packed. More packed than the overstuffed parking lot let on. There are people scattered over the picnic grounds in groups of fours and fives, a full dance floor under the main pavilion; a DJ set up at the front with food and drink stands to the side; a giant bowl of spiked punch; a tower of solo cups; a couple of coolers filled with beer.

In the surrounding grass he sees more tables, more people. A couple of guys he remembers from swim team rally around an arm wrestling match; another group plays beer pong on a brown fold-up table that they definitely stole from someone’s church. There's a circle of burnouts playing hacky sack behind a tree.

The bonfire burns brightly on the hillside in the distance, and beyond that he spots the faint glow of trail lights leading up to a bridge under the falls.

Part of him wants to follow the trail. Shake Robin off, pretend like he’s going to take a leak. Find a nice rocky overhang to camp under for a while.

Listen to river sounds. Gentle slosh; cricket buzz.

Maybe he gets drunk up there alone. Maybe he just enjoys the solitude; lies on a rock on his belly by the icy river’s edge, swirls his hand in frigid water and doesn't dream of dark brown curls.

“Steve?” Robin nudges him. “You good?”

Another, much less annoying part of him reminds him that he’s Steve Goddamn Harrington. He knows how to have a good time at a party.

Who cares if he feels too old to be here, or if it’s weird to see so many faces that used to call him Captain or King? Who cares that he's one smudge of eyeliner away from looking like a full-blown new wave art freak?

He’s not about to slink off to do depressed weirdo wallflower shit when the DJ’s playing Wham!

“Yeah.” He squeezes her shoulder. “You want a drink?”

“Yes, please.”

—

The drinks are strong.

Steve’s pretty sure the punch bowl is a lot more hunch than punch, but there’s still no sign of Vickie, and Robin’s getting that sad little stress wrinkle between her brows about it, so Steve says bottoms up and starts chugging.

They wince their way through two cups each. Robin plugs her nose on the second one like she’s about to do a high dive, and Steve laughs and takes her hand, leading her into the crowd just as Take on Me comes on. The lights all blur together as they shimmy and shake and twirl, moving like a couple of dorks, but Steve’s having a great time. Bobbing his head to the beat; a big, dumb grin on his face as he moves his hips. Robin shouts “Watch this!” over the music, and the next thing he knows they’re competing to see who can bust the worst dance move.

He brings out all the big guns, the full-groan dad maneuvers.

The sprinkler, the lawn mower, the fucking disco finger.

Robin answers with a sloppy attempt at the robot, so he makes up a new move he calls be kind, rewind, and she laughs like a horse and pretends to walk down a flight of stairs.

She’s crouched into a goofy lunge, two steps into the ascent back up, when the song fades out and a ballad takes over. The crowd presses in to slow dance; Robin steps on someone's toes.

“Hey, watch it!” the person hisses.

Robin startles hard; knocks herself off-balance when she tries to stand up straight, babbling, "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry! Are you- are you okay? I'm such a klutz, oh, my god, I'm—"

Steve snatches her up under the armpits; puts her back on her feet. Then he looks up and realizes who exactly she just stepped on.

Well, shit.

—

part 24

tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #st fic #robin buckley #jonathan byers #my writing #my fic

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cozage · 1 year

Note

Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, and Ace with a fem slave S/O with lots of scars, injuries, and more. She’s so sweet and quiet and great at cleaning and cooking and sewing and practically their future housewife on deck!

A/N: Thank you Anon :) You gave me something I didn’t know I needed. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Characters: F! reader x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace

Cw: lots of PTSD, trauma response, angst, scars, injuries, etc.

Total word count: 1.5k

A New Home

Zoro

He always announces his presence when he enters a room. There was one time he didn’t announce it when he came into a room and it scared you so bad you started crying. Never again.

He likes to just sit in the silence with you while you work. Sometimes he watches you, but most of the time he naps. He loves that you don’t mind the quiet space, that he can come to you for a moment of solitude.

He never asks you to fix his torn shirts. He doesn’t feel right asking you to, but when he finds them sewn back together perfectly and folded neatly in his drawer, he gives you a soft kiss as a silent “thank you”.

He is FIERCELY protective over you both in social settings and in battle. He is always yelling at Luffy for being too loud or scaring you, he pulls out a sword against anyone who tries to make advances on you in public, and god forgive anyone who even thinks about hurting you in battle.

He gives the best massages. He has perfect control on pressure and knows exactly where to press to comfort your aching muscles. He loves to massage your shoulders, your hands, your feet. Afterwards he’ll lazily trace his fingers across your skin, sometimes tracing over scars, but he never asks about them. He knows you’ll tell him when you’re ready.

Luffy

He works so so hard to get you out of your shell. He just wants you to try new things and have new experiences!! He wants you to live life to the fullest!!

New adventure? New food? New friend?? He’s introducing you to it all. It’s a bit overwhelming at times, but you know he means well, so you try your best to embrace it.

He used to ask you about your injuries and scars whenever he saw a new one, but he’s learned to stop for a multitude of reasons. Sometimes the memories are so bad you cry, and he holds you and rocks you to sleep. Sometimes you tell him the truth, and he gets so angry he needs to go punch something and scream at the sky. Sometimes you’re not sure how you got it, and you get lost in thought for hours trying to remember what memory you’ve forgotten.

You are always cleaning up Luffy’s messes, helping Franky repair the worn sails, stitching up torn clothing from everyone. You have a way with fabric, and can make an old shirt brand new again. Luffy deems you the “Clothing Captain”, since you can get rid of any stain, mend any cloth, and create the best outfits from scratch.

He watches you really closely to make sure you aren’t working too hard. Sometimes you just get so caught up in getting as many tasks done as efficiently as possible that the whole day passes and you haven’t sat down once. Luffy keeps an eye on you and makes sure you are still having fun. The life on the Sunny isn’t supposed to be hard work, it’s supposed to be a fun family where everyone chips in with what they’re best at and what they enjoy. He knows you’re still working to understand that fully, and he works to support you the best way he can.

Sanji

The first time you ate his food, you cried. You had never had anything better in your life, and you praised his cooking ability for days. It was the most you had spoken since joining the crew, and it was all for him. Sanji instantly fell for you, of course.

He cooks constantly for you. He’ll spend hours over the stove trying to get the recipe just right. You never citicize his cooking (because it’s always the best thing you’ve ever had), so he learns your body language instead. He learns your favorite ingredients, and watches your reactions to his cooking closely to figure out how to perfect it just for you.

He talks your ear off, which you love. He knows you're not much of a talker, and he makes up for the empty space. Neither of you ever mind, you love hearing about his life, about their time on the sea. You asked him once where he first fell in love with cooking, and he got quiet for a long time. “My mother.” He finally said, and you knew that was all he would say on the matter. You realized that he had a past he didn’t like to talk about as well, and you didn’t push him to say anymore.

He's extremely defensive of you, and keeps you away from prying eyes and questions. Luffy asks something insensitive? “Mind your own business, Luffy!” Zoro says something boneheaded? “I’ll kill you for that Mosshead!” Anytime you’re feeling awkward or uncomfortable, Sanji is there to step in and tell people to back off.

He picks up on your PTSD warning signs super fast. He watches for the nervous flicks of your eyes, trembling fingers, twitching hands. As soon as he sees a sign, he’s there in an instant. He asks you what you need, refocuses you in the moment, makes sure you know you’re safe. He holds you and lets you cry and scream into his shirt. No matter what you do or what you need, he’s there for you.

Law

The first time he sees all of your scars, he’s enraged. He clenches his fists and grits his teeth and does the best he can to help you with your current ailment without showing outward anger, but you can feel his rage. It scares you, and when he realizes his emotions are upsetting you, he works to keep them in check in the future.

He studies up on all the medicinal herbs to heal aches and pains, and tries to find ways he might be able to help heal any injuries or long-lasting pain with his Ope-Ope fruit.

He watches closely to see how you navigate being on a ship with new people. Some big milestones he notices:

The first time you speak without being asked a direct question

The first time you offer to mend Bepo’s outfit that’s been torn

The first time you fall asleep without crying

The first time someone touches you and you don’t flinch

The first time you laugh

The first time you initiate a kiss with him

There’s many more, but those are his favorites

He gives you weekly checkups to make sure you’re not overworking yourself and ensure your health isn’t deteriorating

He loves to kiss each one of your scars, starting at your fingers, moving up your arms and then down your back. He knows he can’t take away the pain, but he can try to mix in a few good memories with them as well.

Ace

He knows that you question your worth a lot, so he gives you constant reassurance. “You’re doing amazing” and “I’m so proud of you” are some of his favorite things to say to you. They’re your favorite things to hear, too.

At first, he wants to include you in everything. He wants to show you off. He wants the entire crew to get to know you and realize how great you are. But the big party scenes are overwhelming, and you get a panic attack at one. He quickly realizes that while his intentions were good, he misread the situation, and he apologizes profusely. After that instance, he prefers watching the stars with you in the crows nest as opposed to the party scene below.

Occasionally he’ll still join the party and ask if you want to join, but he never pressures you to go. Every now and then you’ll go with him, and he keeps you close to him the whole night. When you’re ready to go, he always leaves with you, and makes sure you have time to process the event and decompress before you go to sleep so you don’t wake up anxious the next day.

He gives you the equivalent of a hot stone massage with his devil fruit powers most nights, trying to coax your muscles into relaxing before bed. He tries his best to ignore your scars and your tattoo as he massages your back. He brings up the idea of you getting the sun pirate tattoo, but at the thought of the pain you begin to shake, and he doesn’t bring it up again. He talks to Marco secretly about the extent of the phoenix fruit abilities, but unfortunately the doctor can’t be of much help in healing the old wounds or the mental ones.

You love Ace’s friends quietly. You make them snacks, and bring them drinks on hot days. You mend their clothes after battle, and help tend to their wounds when Marco is busy. You don’t always speak, but when you do, Ace’s friends brag about it for days. It’s an honor to be spoken to by you, and Ace loves that his friends love you too.

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youaintnothinbuta · 27 days

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“I’m telling you, honey, you ain’t gon’ like it.” — Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: you push yourself too far out of your comfort zone and get upset at Elvis for it, but he’s very patient with you <3

Pairing: Elvis Presley or Austin!Elvis x reader

Word count: 865

Warnings: fluff!! Minor argument but very a patient Elvis <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I’m telling you, honey, you ain’t gon’ like it.” Elvis stated through a small chuckle of disbelief as he shook his head.

“Oh, Elvis, of course I will.” you replied, smiling, though inwardly determined to prove yourself on the big rides. You wanted to impress him. Amusement parks were enjoyable, sure, but you were tired of being the one too scared for the fast and tall rides.

“You won’t.” He argued through his laugh, like he could see right through you.

Not earning a reply from you, he kept going, “I truly don’t mind going with the fellas, baby, you don’t need to do it for me.”

Unfazed, you pressed on, “I’m not doing it for you, Elvis, I’m doing it for me.” Grabbing his wrist, you pulled him towards the queue for the biggest rollercoaster, the Cyclone. Cliff, Billy, and your brother Bobby exchanged concerned glances, but joined the line with you.

“It’s not too late to back out,” Bobby teased, leaning over your shoulder, his voice a mixture of jest and genuine concern for you. Elvis held your hand as you stepped into your place in the cart, preparing yourself to face your fear. Once everyone was settled, the operator turned the ride on and slowly you started moving, going up a steep incline. It’s not so bad. As the rollercoaster climbed to its peak, your heart pounded in your chest, and as it plummeted down, screams erupted from your lips. But these weren’t screams of exhilaration; they were screams of terror. With each twist and turn, you felt sick to your stomach, regretting every moment that led you to this point. Elvis’ arm around you provided little comfort as you endured the ordeal.

Finally, the ride screeched to a halt, and you stumbled out, feeling shaky and nauseous. Moving out of the exit of the ride, that feeling of nausea was quickly replaced with one of anger.

“I can’t believe you let me do that! You knew I’d hate it!” You lightly punched his chest, upset. He fought back a laugh, feeling bad, he knew that thing had scared you to death.

Instead of arguing back, Elvis guided you away from the bustling crowds to the quiet solitude of the car park, letting you groan and whine as you needed to. The distant sounds of laughter and excitement echoed through the air. The soft glow of twinkling lights overhead cast a gentle illumination. With a sigh, you leaned against a nearby railing, the cool metal soothing against your skin as you closed your eyes, attempting to calm yourself. Elvis stood beside you, letting you have a moment to breathe, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back as you sniffled.

After a moment of silence, he turned to you, his expression softened with concern. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice gentle. With a shaky breath, you shook your head, unable to find the words.

Without hesitation, Elvis pulled you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively as you buried your face against his chest. You allowed yourself to lean on him, to find solace in his comforting presence. With a soft sigh, you pulled away from Elvis’s embrace, meeting his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and apology.

Your eyes glossy with unshed tears, you mumbled, “I’m sorry. It just gave me such a fright. I don’t ever want to do that again.”

Elvis’s expression softened even further, his eyes filled with compassion and understanding. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice gentle. “I shouldn’t have let you. I know. Next time, listen to me though. I’m only here to care for you.��

You nodded, thankful.

“Do you want to go back to the others, or are you done for the night?” he asked, his voice gentle, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you needed.

After a moment’s hesitation, you met Elvis’ gaze, your decision clear in your mind. “I think I’m done for the night, I wanna go home,” you admitted softly.

Elvis nodded understandingly, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze yours. “That’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. “Let’s go for a drive and head home, just the two of us.”

He opened the passenger side door, you promptly plunked your bottom down. With a soft sigh, Elvis turned the key in the ignition, and the car roared to life, the engine rumbling beneath you as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the open road.

After what felt like an eternity, Elvis pulled up in front of his house, the soft glow of porch lights welcoming you home. With a grateful smile, he turned off the engine and turned to you.

“Here we are,” he said softly, his voice filled with warmth. “Tired, baby?”

You nodded, as you stepped out of the car and followed Elvis up the path to the front door. As he unlocked the door and let you inside, a sense of relief washed over you, grateful for the familiar comfort of his home. You stepped inside, the warmth of the house enveloping you, you could have just fallen asleep right there.

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 month

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Id love to see how DOG! Konig actually first saw Reader or even when he knew he fell in love with her <3

König saw reader first time on TV :)

It was one of those boring moments when the latest mission was done and he was coming down from his adrenaline/testosterone/cortisol high, channel surfing at the base with a blank stare.

He passed this one channel that never had anything worthwhile to watch, except this time—wait a minute—there’s some cute girl whipping egg whites there. He changed the channel out of habit but immediately changed it back again, his eyes boring to the screen where this woman was making lemon tartlets.

He pays attention to the nice voice… Nice lips… Her hands, very delicate when she decorates each tart with raspberries and mint leaves. It’s always hot in his opinion when a girl prepares dinner or dessert, and this cutie is doing both. She has a sad smile and a pair of depressed eyes, her body language reminds him of tortured prisoners on the brink of confession. The despair in her eyes resembles the look on women just before they cum, and it drives him fucking nuts.

She’s fucking perfect… So weak, just a poor little thing who’s trying to hide, probably hates the camera and her audience, every small prick she has to work for and with.

König binges her whole show within a few days from some streaming service, even faps during or after watching – just a few times because in a few episodes, they filmed her breasts and hands a lot, although it must be said it’s that helpless look in her eyes that truly makes him cum hard… He fantasizes about arriving at her studio with his guns blazing, wondering how she would react when he stains her cute little tarts with blood. How she would react when she sees a big, able man come to take what’s his – would she kneel and beg him to save her life, or would she gasp and look like a stupefied goldfish when he pulls his dick out after the bloodbath and tells her to give it a kiss?

Next thing he does is he googles her, finds a few articles in some lousy girl magazine where she mentions she has “learned to make peace with solitude” and that “time spent alone feels good nowadays”. Ja, sicher! Poor little thing is lying her eyes out, anyone can see that. She tries so hard to be brave, looks so fuckable when she sighs and looks down at the food she just made like it’s the only thing in this world she can do right. Just cook some food and decorate dumb pastries, looking like a spoiled little princess while she’s doing it.

He gets his hands on the actual, physical articles and keeps them in his locker because they include pictures of her. Finds her on social media and looks at her Instagram feed first time in the morning and last time before bed, chuckling to himself from how pathetic she is, so fucking desperate to get attention... He has a collection of screenshots on his phone: one of his favourites is, surprisingly, not a picture of her delicious ass, trying another dumb hobby that’s supposed to be trendy. It’s the one where she’s smiling at a big mug of coffee in front of her, looking like a cute little kitten who’s been offered a treat. Or her on the beach with a big straw hat on her head, looking at the waves and smiling a big, silly smile, her worries forgotten for a moment. Her at a party, all dolled up and practically begging to get fucked, holding the waist of some weak civilian he could kill with one punch.

But his ultimate favourite is a selfie she took while she was out on a walk. She’s without her makeup, wearing a simple old faded t-shirt, looking up at the camera with a fake smile and those sad, pleading eyes, silently begging for someone to take the pain away. She’s unprotected, and lonely, so pitiful that König would do anything to teleport beside her right now and haul her away like a sack of whimpering potatoes thrown over his shoulder.

Is no one going to fucking come to her rescue and spoil her to bits, is no one going to fuck those dumb little thoughts out of her head? What the fuck is wrong with men these days, he doesn’t understand, but he’s not going to watch this ridiculous shit for a moment longer…

(If you asked König when he realized he was in love with her, he would answer it was love at first sight. Or… maybe… that one time when she asked where she put the cream. She was talking to herself while the cameras were rolling, looking helpless, lost, and dumb because she literally had one job... König found that very endearing.)

#dog fic #stalker!könig

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stellamancer · 7 months

Text

(though we may) fall apart - reader x satoru gojo

notes: uh. so this started as a vent fic and it kind of evolved into this. in some ways it kind of feels like a character study, but writing from gojo's perspective is uh. a ride. additionally, this is meant to be a companion fic to between the moon's divide, though it's not required reading (especially since this fic takes place before that one).

contains: fem!reader (no gendered terms, no physical descriptions, but implied to be smaller than gojo if you look closely enough), gojo's absolutely bonkers pov, hurt/comfort, physical violence (in which reader punches gojo), mentions of anxiety and mental breakdowns

wc: 4.3k -> [read on ao3; account required]

Satoru has good eyes.

Not just in the sense that they're beautiful— because they are: clear as the daytime sky and bright as the stars in the night. His eyes, a breathtaking shade of blue, have been a source of admiration and envy all his life, captivating and entrancing people left and right, but their sheer beauty isn't even the best thing about them.

It's the fact that his eyes let him see, let him really see.

Perceptiveness is not a skill that Satoru Gojo has ever had to learn, but one that's been thrust upon him, branded into the hue of his eyes. There's very little that he doesn't notice– that he doesn't see. From subtle shifts in body language to the ebb and flow of cursed energy, there is almost nothing that isn't laid bare before Satoru's Six Eyes.

That's how Satoru knows that something is wrong.

To your credit, you’re very good at hiding it— years of practice paying off in full. Everyone seems none the wiser when you smile and say you’re fine. Satoru wonders if they actually believe you or if they just don’t want to open that can of worms, but he can tell— from the faint, yet dissonant undercurrent in your voice that you are anything but fine.

The fact that your cursed energy is wound tightly around your form, like a protective cocoon doesn’t help your case either.

But that’s probably something only Satoru, with his Six Eyes, can discern.

He makes it a point to not call you out for your deception in front of everyone— you like to wear a brave face, so he’ll be nice enough to not tear it down in front of everyone to see. Besides, if he did that, he would lose major brownie points with you, and he can’t be having that.

Satoru watches with careful eyes as you take the first chance you possibly can to dip from the conversation the other sorcerers have roped you into about recent missions. You say you’re going to go find food, but Satoru knows that you’re really saying that you’re going to go find somewhere to fall apart in peace, in solitude.

He’s nice enough to let you have your lies, but letting you have that is going way too far.

Satoru follows after you at a distance, feeling generous enough to let you have some semblance of space as you amble down the hallways of the school. Must be looking for some secluded classroom or something. It would probably be better for you to go home— that would probably be the best place for you to cry your little heart out, but you’re probably not thinking straight.

Lucky him.

You arrive at your destination, a classroom tucked away in the corner of the building and scurry inside, not even looking back as you slide the door shut behind you. Would you have even noticed Satoru standing there if you had looked? Or would your despair have clouded your vision? Satoru’s eyes narrow just slightly at the thought of that; somehow, he doesn’t like it.

All the more reason to rip that facade right off your face.

It takes everything in him to not march straight into that classroom and terrorize you until you forget whatever it is that’s upsetting you. Satoru reminds himself that he’s being kind— being generous and letting you have a few moments for yourself. Not that he’d really know, but he’s heard crying is cathartic, so it’s probably best to let you shed a few tears before he swoops in like the dashing leading man that he is. For now, he’ll just wait at the door and give you a few minutes.

But then he hears it— the sound of a soft, strangled sob, and before Satoru knows it, the door is flying open and he’s entering the threshold of the classroom.

You glare at Satoru and he knows you’re trying your best to look as furious as possible, but the watery eyes and wobbly lips really dampen the heat of your gaze.

He shuts the door behind him before he speaks, “It’s kind of creepy to cry alone in a classroom.”

Your eyes grow wide for a fraction of a second and you scowl at him before whirling around to turn your back to him. “If you’re going to be an asshole, then you can walk right back out that door and pretend you never saw me.”

Satoru can’t help but chuckle a little. No chance of that. Not in a million years. He steps toward you, circling around so that you’re facing one another again. Leaning down, he grins and says, “Now why would I do that?”

Stubbornly, you refuse to look at him as you struggle to answer. Satoru is well aware of the fact that you and he both know that he wouldn’t do that, but he’s interested in seeing what you have to say.

Finally, you answer, expression twisted and almost unwilling as you speak, “To prove that you are the nice and awesome teacher that you claim to be?”

“Oh, but I am,” Satoru says, rising with a laugh. “You see, the students were all scared because they heard crying, and thought maybe this classroom’s haunted. Naturally, being the very brave and super cool teacher that I am, I came to check it out.”

You stare at him, looking completely and wholly unimpressed as usual. “Do you just enjoy lying?”

“It hurts me that you don’t believe that I’m concerned about the students’ mental well being!” Satoru bemoans dramatically.

“Because you’re not!” you shoot back. Something flickers in your eyes, and looking embarrassed, you quickly add. “At least not right now.”

Satoru smiles, pleased at the implications of your addendum. He's well aware that his easy-going demeanor makes it hard to believe any claims of sincerity. Most people, which sometimes includes you, think he's full of hot air— but he really does have the students' best interest at heart and he's glad to know that, deep down, you remember he does too.

"You're right," he says nonchalantly, his smile only widening as the surprise makes itself apparent on your face. He bets that you thought he would stick to the usual script: insist that he's always concerned about the students. You should know better though since Satoru revels in making unpredictable plays. "Right now, I'm concerned about you."

The completely stunned look on your face is priceless. Your lips are slightly parted, your eyes blown as wide can be, still a little red from the tears you shed before he walked in. Something about your expression is softer and Satoru wishes he could immortalize it in a more tangible sense, but for now he decides to settle by committing it to memory.

Quickly, your shock gives way to your typical annoyance, your defenses rising in response to Satoru’s earnestness. There’s something about it— about the thought of tearing them back down that's almost exciting. “You really do like lying, huh?”

“I’m not lying,” Satoru says plainly. “You are my favorite colleague, you know.”

It’s not a lie. Your eyes narrow in clear disbelief though. He would expect nothing different from you. “You know, I’ve heard you say the same thing to Nanami.”

Satoru smiles, unshaken by your accusation. “Okay, so maybe I have. Who says I can’t have two favorites?”

You give him a pointed look. “So what am I, the flavor of the day or something?”

“Sure,” Satoru agrees with ease. He likes that analogy— reminds him of ice cream. If you were a flavor, what would you be? Something with a lot of different textures? Definitely something that’s subtly sweet, though. Not that it matters, it would be his favorite all the same— his only favorite. “So what’s with the waterworks?”

There’s a split second of hesitation before you respond. “Nothing. It’s— I’m fine.”

If Satoru wasn’t sure before, he is now, more than ever; you’re not fine. In the stillness of this otherwise empty classroom it’s easier to hear the strained notes in your voice, the lie weaved into the melody of your words. He tilts his head, a wry grin playing at his lips. “So, who’s the liar now?”

A scowl blooms across your features and the sight of it stirs something in Satoru’s chest. Satisfaction, maybe? It doesn’t seem quite right, but he is pleased that he’s read you so effortlessly.

“I— just— it’s nothing,” you grind out. It looks almost as if you’re going to add something else, but you don’t, as if you think better of it. Can’t have that. Your reticence is kind of annoying, but Satoru doesn’t care all that much; he’s sure he can coax it out of you.

He leans back down so that he’s at eye level, reaching up to pull his blindfold down and reveal his eyes. Your entire body goes tense, but Satoru ignores it as he places a hand on his chin, making an elaborate show of examining your face. “You sure about that? You seem kinda agitated.”

You don’t respond right away, your gaze transfixed on the hue of his eyes. Of all the weapons at his disposal, Satoru’s eyes are the most effective against you. You’d never admit it, but you’re weak against them; the brilliant blue of his irises never failing to entrance you. It might be a little mean of him to wield them against you, but Satoru is known for being ruthless.

“That’s—” you start, the words catching in your throat before you force them out. “That’s because you’re all up in my face right now, Gojo.”

Another lie. Mostly. Some of your agitation is definitely proximity based right now.

“Then let me rephrase; you’ve been kinda agitated since you got back from your mission earlier.” His hand moves from his chin to his ear and he taps it lightly. “Could hear it in your voice.”

The revelation leaves you looking absolutely mortified. Satoru is almost delighted because he can practically hear you asking if you were really that obvious. He plays with the thought of telling you that you were. It’s not a complete lie, but not a whole truth either, after all, not everyone is as adept at reading you as he is.

You recover fairly quickly, shoving your embarrassment aside as you say. “Don’t worry about it.”

He grins a little. “Worry about what?”

Your expression shifts to the very definition of exasperation. Satoru thinks that if you were intent on keeping whatever it is to yourself it would have been better for you to just double down on saying it’s nothing and that things are fine. Unfortunately, you just gave him something new to latch on to pry you open with. Of course he’s going to use it. In clear frustration, you sigh, “Just… just drop it, Gojo.”

“I really am worried though, you know.”

You eye him warily, not bothering to conceal your suspicion and doubt. “You don’t look very worried. In fact, you almost look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

Satoru’s eyes widen just a tiny bit. You most definitely don’t realize it, but his persistence is wearing you down. Even though you’re still denying him the words he’s trying to wheedle out of you, you’re no longer handing him the absolutes of ‘it’s fine’ and ‘it’s nothing.’ You’re giving him something he can work with, something he can use, like a puzzle he’s just started to figure out, so of course he’s enjoying himself. And of course, you caught him. He grins at you, guilty. “Maybe a little.”

You rip your gaze from Satoru, jaw clenching as you bite back whatever foul words you want to hurl in his direction. It’s pretty obvious that you’re pissed by what he said and while he could have lied to you, he doubts you would have believed him. Besides, Satoru’s trying to show that he’s the honest one here.

It takes you a second to wrangle your rage back under your control as you defuse yourself with one deep, deep breath. Even though you lash out at Satoru all the time in response to his antics, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you explode in actual anger. You’ve gotten close dozens of times, sure, but each and every time Satoru has seen you swallow your feelings, forcing them down into parts unknown. It’s not like he can blame you; as sorcerers, you’re trained to control your emotions because losing control could very well be the difference between life and death.

He can’t help but wonder: what would happen if you lost control? If you let your feelings— all the sorrow and all the rage, burst from your body? Would you feel better? Would you fall apart? Would you—

Would you let him see?

It’s not until that very moment that Satoru realizes how badly he wants that— to see you come apart at the seams, to be the one to stitch you back up again. The realization brings almost all thought and emotion to a startling halt, a split second of silence before Satoru’s mind is back online, the thrum of desire running hot in his veins.

“My feelings aren’t for your entertainment, Gojo,” you say coolly.

You’re right. You’re wrong. You’re misreading this entire thing. “That’s not it. Not entirely anyway.”

It's obvious you don't believe him. Rolling your eyes, you say, "Gojo, you are such a—"

"I'm not lying."

The interruption stops you short, drawing your gaze to him and finally, finally the two of you are actually seeing eye to eye. Your pupils are blown wide, defenses demolished in the wake of Satoru’s earnestness. He watches as your eyes dart around, your mouth gaping wordlessly as you try to find something to deflect, to deny him.

Eventually, a scowl returns to your face, agitation at its very peak. “You are just—! Look, I’ll be fine, okay? You don’t need to worry about it.”

There’s a note of finality in your voice that makes it obvious that you do not want to have this conversation any more. Satoru doesn’t care, even though he knows at this point the two of you will just end up talking in circles. It’s kind of annoying, and even though he could do it all day, it’s time.

It’s time to rip that mask of yours right off.

“It doesn’t matter if I need to or not,” Satoru says, his tone serious. “Because, whether you want to believe it or not, the fact of the matter is that I am worried.”

You don’t challenge his words. In fact, you don’t say anything at all, but there is a shift in your energy and something about it doesn't seem quite right. Something in Satoru’s stomach shifts uncomfortably and it takes him a second to realize why.

Your silence reminds him of Suguru.

Of all the things Suguru didn’t say. Of all the things that Suguru swallowed— his curses, his feelings, his worries, forcing them down, down, down into parts unknown until he just couldn’t any more, until they came bursting from him, like bile, like vitriol consuming Suguru, twisting him until even Satoru could not recognize his best friend any more.

Satoru had seen the signs, after all, there is almost nothing that isn’t laid bare before the hue of his eyes. He’d seen the exhaustion set in Suguru’s face. He’d seen the way his cursed energy would wind so tightly around his form. He’d seen something was wrong.

But Suguru had said he was fine. That it was nothing. And Satoru—

Satoru had accepted that. Perceptiveness is not a skill that he has ever had to learn, but what to do with that which his eyes see, to comprehend that information, understand it, and act accordingly— those are skills he’s still working on. He saw Suguru was struggling, but Satoru thought that it was fine because Suguru said so. If something was really wrong, then Suguru would have told him because—

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Satoru is quiet. You are quiet. The room is quiet. Everything is too damn quiet.

So, Satoru does what he does best: he fills the air with the sound of his voice. He prattles on and on, knowing somewhere in his mind that it might not make you more amenable to opening up to him, but he can’t stop the words from spewing his mouth, like bile, like desperation, begging you to not turn out like his best friend. “Friends talk to one another, they rely on one another, so you don’t have to feel scared or shy about it. So—”

“...shut up.”

“Huh?” Satoru pretends he didn’t hear you. Your voice is quiet enough.

“I said ‘shut up!’” you repeat, your voice far louder. You take a half step back, one of your arms winding back, your hand balled into a fist like you’re about to punch him.

Satoru lets you.

The loud smack of skin on skin contact echoes throughout the room as your fist collides with his cheek. He reels back a bit, it didn’t hurt all that much, but… “Man, you really know how to throw a punch.”

Satoru rubs his cheek a little. Now that he thinks about it, maybe he really did need that for a second there. He looks down at you and the look on your face is absolutely horrified. It looks like someone just dumped ice cold water and now you’re frozen to the spot, scared, soggy, and surprised. There’s no doubt that you thought that your punch wouldn’t connect, that you thought the hit would get lost in the infinite space between you.

Your fist drops to your side like a sack of potatoes. As it does, your energy finally begins to unravel. Like a puppet whose strings have been cut, your entire body wobbles, and Satoru steps forward, wrapping his arms around you before you crumble to the ground.

He expects you to complain about the fact he’s holding you.

You don’t.

Instead you grumble, your voice muffled by his clothes, “You are such a dirty hypocrite, you know that? Do you talk to people? Do you rely on them?”

“Excuse me, I—”

“Yeah, fine, sure, you talk so damn much that people can’t get you to shut up. But you and I both know that it’s not like you’re saying anything of actual substance most of the time.”

He smiles wryly, though you can’t see it. “And what about right now? We’re talking, aren’t we?

“I’m talking.”

“But are you saying anything?”

You scoff a little bit. “About the same amount as you, I guess.”

Satoru hums. Sounds about right. “I do rely on other people, though. You don’t see me taking on every mission, do you? Not like I can do everything on my own.”

“People act like you can.” Something in your voice sounds almost bitter and for some reason Satoru’s chest aches at the sound. “I just feel like everyone depends on you too much because you’re the ‘strongest.’ Like, what are they going to do if you’re not around?”

“Your lack of confidence in me is kinda rude, you know,” Satoru says dryly. “Do you think something’s going to happen to me?”

“...no,” you answer, reluctant in your honesty. “But I don’t want to be one of those people, not if I can help it.”

He can’t help but laugh. “Don’t think I can handle it?”

“I don’t want you to,” you admit and Satoru frowns, silent as you continue, “I feel like you’ve got enough to worry about already. I don’t want to be adding my crap to it.”

He is more than aware of the burden on his shoulders. Carrying the weight of the world is no easy feat, but Satoru has always been up to the task— accepted it, embraced it even, his waiting hands ever ready and willing to take on more.

Satoru wouldn't mind if you gave him something more to hold.

“What if I want to?” he asks, sounding a little cheeky.

You start to push on his chest, trying to free yourself from his grip. He doesn’t let you. “I don’t care."

Satoru's arms tighten around you in retribution. Your body is a pleasant sort of warm and in the back of his mind Satoru thinks that he wouldn't mind basking in it a little. "Now, that's not very nice at all."

"I don't care!" you repeat, voice still muffled as you struggle against him. "I’m not going to be responsible for contributing to any of your possible mental breakdowns.”

“I don’t have mental breakdowns," Satoru points out. He’s not sure if you realize it, but he’s very good at compartmentalizing, prioritizing his thoughts, his feelings. And more than that—

“Yeah," you say, that bitter sound saturating your tone once more. "I imagine the strongest sorcerer can’t afford to.”

“...something like that, yeah,” he says with another laugh, loosening his grip on you. But he doesn’t let you go completely. Not yet.

You pull back enough so that he can see your face, and your frown almost looks like a pout. It’s kind of cute. “Maybe you should think about it some time. I think it would do you a world of good.”

Satoru pretends to consider it. He sees what you’re saying, and maybe you're right, but he can't. He's built different from you. Different from Suguru. “I thought about it and sorry, but no can do.”

You snort, but you don’t seem all that upset by his refusal; honestly, you probably figured as much. “Must be nice to be you."

"Could be nicer though." Satoru gives you an exaggerated sigh.

You eye him suspiciously, but ultimately take the bait and indulge him. "How so? Do you want everyone to worship the ground you walk on?"

He frowns. He's almost insulted. Almost. "You really think I'm that conceited?"

"Sometimes," you answer with a sassy sort of smile.

Satoru cannot help but stare at you— at the face you're making. Committing the image to memory is just not enough. Taking a picture wouldn't be either. Satoru's fingers twitch, desperate to reach out as if your smile is something he can grab— something he can hold and keep all to himself.

He pouts, "Well, you're wrong."

"Uh-huh…"

"What would make my life nicer," Satoru enunciates slowly, mostly for dramatic effect, "is a nice sorcerer friend who relies on me, tells me their problems and thinks I'm very cool."

You gawk at him before you start laughing. Hard. So hard that tears start forming at the corner of your eyes— that, by the time you're done your breaths are labored and heavy. Satoru is a little offended because he's being honest, but that pales in comparison to the relief he feels seeing that whatever was bothering you seems all but forgotten now. It's less likely now that you'll tell him what that was but Satoru thinks it's a small price to pay to know that you're feeling better.

Besides, he has a feeling about what it could be and so there's next time.

For better or worse, there will always be a next time.

"I'm afraid you're a little shit out of luck there, Gojo," you say once you've caught your breath. "I think your standards are a little high."

He grins. "I only deserve the best, you know."

"Then maybe you should be better first."

"I'm a great friend," Satoru insists. He knows it's not quite the truth, there are ways he could be better, could have been better. For you. For Shoko. For Nanami.

For Suguru.

But he's trying. Here and now. He's trying.

"Are you?" you ask.

"Maybe you should tell me," Satoru retorts playfully. "You know, you never did answer my question earlier."

You blink and then look away, looking a little ashamed.

"You didn't forget, did you? I'm hurt!" Satoru exclaims, exaggerating as he always does.

"I didn't forget!" you say.

"You so forgot!" Satoru shoots back. "But you can make it up to me by answering me now. And no lying this time, got it?"

You scowl at him, looking petulant and it's adorable enough that Satoru is willing to consider giving you a pass if you refuse to answer. Because, even if you don't say it, Satoru knows— no matter how rude you are to him, no matter how much you bicker with him, no matter how much you deny him, he knows the truth.

He doesn't think you'll admit it.

But to his surprise, you do.

Your answer is barely audible, a quiet sort of grumble. "Of course, we're friends… I can't believe you're actually asking me."

Satoru can't help the smile that spreads across his face, elated to hear you acknowledge the friendship between you however reluctant you may be about it. Despite that, there's something, clawing at the back of his mind, demanding and insatiable. You've just admitted to friendship, but Satoru quickly realizes that that's not enough. His fingers twitch again, striving to grasp something else, something more.

"How am I supposed to know that if you don't confide in me a little more?" Satoru asks.

You don't answer. He knows that you know he has a point.

"Listen, you don't have to tell me everything." Even though he wishes you would. "But, if something is seriously bothering you, don't go running into a classroom to cry alone. Just come to me instead."

You groan. Reluctant as always. But it's not a no, and that's good enough for Satoru.

At least for right now.

"Promise?" His voice is soft and gentle, almost a plea.

Satoru couldn't be there for Suguru, but the least he can do is be there for you.

"Okay," you answer, your voice matching his and Satoru wonders if you know, if you realize. "I promise."

extra scene/epilogue

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #nikuniku fics #infinite loop!verse

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hier--soir · 1 year

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☆★ jessie's masterlist★☆

hi welcome :)

my blog is 18 + minors do not interact. warnings/tags included on each individual work. do not copy or translate my writing.

follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing

ELLIE WILLIAMS | THE LAST OF US

★ sun don't set: life in the little house is calm - quiet. days pass in a blur of fruit and sunshine and companionship. slow mornings, afternoons, and evenings. ellie is slowly rediscovering her love for music, and on that journey, she writes a song about you.

JOHN PRICE | CALL OF DUTY

★ heart to heart: john takes you away for the weekend, and nestled in a cottage on the countryside, you show him just how much you've been missing him.

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY | CALL OF DUTY

★big: he’s big and he knows it.

JOEL MILLER | THE LAST OF US

★ a lover's pinch [series]: a one-night stand with a charming texan turns into something much more thrilling when you discover he is your new college professor. joel miller is entirely off limits. but now that you’ve had a taste, will you be able to keep your hands to yourselves?

★ take your medicine: your medication makes it difficult to orgasm so joel (and your vibrator) help make it happen

★ ripe: a night out with old friends helps you and joel realise what’s been missing in your relationship.

★ fwb!joel [series]: two friends decide to blow off a little steam together. slowly but surely, it turns into more.

★ night breeze: joel comes home to find you sleeping in his bed, wearing his clothes.

★ fake it: does joel know you well enough to know when you're faking it?

★ back to texas: joel goes back to his house in texas

★ sleepy: joel is out like a light, but you can only think of one thing that will help you fall asleep

★ be good: joel was never really the submissive type. until he met you, and realised he'd do whatever you asked of him

★ tender is the night [for a broken heart]: a birthday dinner gets interrupted by a drunk ex, who still can't say the words you need to hear.

★ under the night [series]: peaceful settlement life in jackson is vastly different to how you once lived; traversing the united states, fighting to survive, and constantly looking over your shoulder. when you find solace and connection in joel miller and your guard lowers, will it become clear that jackson isn't as safe as it once seemed?

ABBY ANDERSON | THE LAST OF US PART II

★ high strung: abby has seemed distracted in your sessions as of late. when you discover why, you help to ease some of her tension.

★ one last time: when the woman you love comes crawling back in the middle of the night, can you convince her to stay?

FRANCISCO MORALES | TRIPLE FRONTIER

★ vis-à-vis: your bedroom window offers a direct view into your cute neighbour's apartment. as time goes by, you two start looking for each other through the glass. shy glances become desperate, needy glimpses into each other's lives until one day, you finally make contact.

DIN DJARIN | THE MANDALORIAN

★ raising cain [series]: over fifteen months and three different cities, two lonely souls keep finding their way back to one another. leading fragile lives of solitude, of violence, both Cain and Din Djarin can't help but be drawn to the familiarity in the other's embrace; the feeling of another person truly knowing them, in a world where not many can. as their lives begin to unravel, the two are faced with a choice between trusting, or having it all end in bloodshed.

FRANK CASTLE | THE PUNISHER

★ boxer!frank:

on the ropes: a dive bar, a stranger in an alley, and a punch to the kidney.

#my writing #masterlist #joel miller fanfiction #abby anderson fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams fanfiction #fanfiction #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #cod fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction

787 notes · View notes

valkyrieromanoff · 1 year

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IMAGINE PEDRO PASCAL X ACTRESS!READER

Summary: You and Pedro answer some internet questions.

Warnings: Implied romance, friendship,fluffy

I was up at the crack of dawn watching The Graham Norton Show due to my unhinged obsession with Pedro Pascal. That's where my hypothesis about Helen Mirren became more credible. I really hope you enjoy it, though.

"Hello, I am Pedro Pascal." He introduced himself, waiting for you to do the same. "And my name is Y/N, and today we are going to answer some questions from the Internet." You said as Pedro shook the jar with the questions written on small pieces of paper."Let's see what the first question will be." He said, turning the jar over so that you could pick one up. "What was the last song you listened to?" He leaned over to your side, reading over your shoulder. "Do you remember?"

"Let's dance by Bowie. I listened to it in the car when I was coming here." You said, leaving the paper on the table. "Whenever I'm feeling down, I put this song on, and everything is better. What about you?"

Pedro paused to think, looking distractedly to the side. "Someone sent me this video with the song Hey sexy lady and this has been on my mind since then."

"I think I know which video you are talking about." You laughed, raising an eyebrow. He chuckled and laid his head on your shoulder. "Well, next question. Are you good with accents?"

"Are you?" Pedro asked, as you shook your head negatively. "Come on, it shouldn't be that bad."

"The best I can do is a terrible British accent." And I'm not being modest; it's truly terrible." You rectified it, laughing. "But you, on the other hand, are good at it."

"I try; I've done a few different accents." Pedro said, moving his shoulders as if to ask something. "This is the way." He said it in his SNL Valley Girl accent.

You smiled as you shook the pot and motioned for him to take the next question.

"Recommend a book." He read, then tossed the paper aside. "I think I've mentioned this book before, but Gabriel Garcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude is a landmark in Latin American literature and well worth the read. Besides dealing playfully with social and economic problems, it talks about family, friendship, and love."

"That sounds interesting." You commented. "I would recommend Normal People by Sally Rooney. It's a great book, which in addition to telling the story of Marianne and Connel, deals with topics such as mental health, social classes and makes us reflect on how we impact people's lives and how they impact us."

"Nice." Pedro agreed, waiting for you to take a question.

"What is your celebrity crush?" You asked, and you can't deny that you were curious to know his answer.

"Tough question, there are so many people I admire." He began, adjusting his glasses. "However, if I had to pick one, it would be Helen Mirren since Excalibur. Oh Morgana Le Fay has awakened something in me.""She's wonderful." You agreed, taking a moment to decide. "My celebrity crush is Tessa Thompson; that woman is amazing. She could punch me in the face and I'd thank her for it." "Whoa!" Pedro muttered in surprise. "I don't even know what to say." He joked as you pushed him lightly to the side.

"We only have two more." You commented, looking through the last few papers. "Let's see what the question is." You said, unfolding the paper. "Were you a good student? Were you Pedro?""I was a student." Pedro paused. "Maybe I got into some trouble." He joked, holding your arm as he laughed, "But they were always normal things, like skipping class or forgetting to do an assignment.""I guess I was a good student; I got good grades; I was a little nerdy; and I never got into any trouble." You spoke, throwing a lock of hair back."So, you were a good girl?" Pedro asked and you bit your lip."You could say that." You mumbled, holding the jar for him to pick up the last paper.

"What's the one thing you wish you could tell your younger self?" He read, looking thoughtful for a moment. "I would say that everything would eventually work out and that some things tend to take longer to happen. And to never, no matter what, stop being who you are."

You smiled, gently touching his shoulder. Pedro stared at your face and returned the smile.

"I'd tell her to not be so hard on herself and to try to enjoy the moments without worrying so much about the things she can't control." You said sincerely. "Well, it looks like the questions are over."

"It was a lot of fun answering them; I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as we did." Pedro spoke, smiling. "Until next time." He said, and made the peace sign with his fingers.

"Bye." You spoke, waving to the camera.

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x actress reader #actress!reader

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obeythebutler · 2 years

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HEYO! Can i ask for some fluff please!! Specifically, the brothers react to mc being in an extra affectionate mood and they decide to cup their demon s/o's face and pepper their face with kisses. Then pulling away after a while with a giddy smile. When the bros ask what the occasion was or why, they would just shrug and say that they just felt like it. Theb smile sweetly

Just lucifer and beel is completely fine if you cant do all of the brothers! THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Kiss, Kiss! (Lucifer and Beelzebub)

LUCIFER

His forehead throbs in pain as he stares at the latest report sent to him for approval—another financing proposal for new constructions, and the demon sighs.

There's already a pile besides him that's now taller than his head.

Lucifer straightens his back, and adjusts his glasses so that they now rest on his nose and not threaten to fall off from his face. He dips the ornate fountain pen in ink, and resumes his monotonous work.

With the renovations taking place in the library, and with five new classrooms being built, fifty-five thousand grimm would not be enough to cover it all, given that inflation is at an all-time high at eight percent—

"Are you....busy?"

He looks up, eyes darting towards the doorway where you wait, smiling at him.

"Hey," He says, still holding the pen between his fingers. "Have my brothers been up to their usual shenanigans again?"

Mammon will be hanged upside-down from the chandelier this time, with enchanted ropes for an extra punch. In hell's sake, Lucifer hopes the demon hasn't gone and committed another mistake that he will have to fix.

"No," You affirm, staring at the man who has resumed his work. "I...wanted to be with you for a while, if you're free though." You mumble the last part, and when Lucifer looks up at you from his glasses you have the urge to hide your face. "A-Are you busy?"

What a stupid question. When is he not swarmed with work?

Although, you find that your words have had their effect on the demon, for Lucifer is now sporting that dopey grin that you've come to see in his most vulnerable moments.

"Come here," He asks, putting down his pen.

You oblige.

It's the same old, same old. In the way that you approach him when he's swarmed with work, banishing the solitude that the demon surrounds himself with. When you place yourself on his lap and let Lucifer find his peace with you.

But this, this is new.

He looks on, puzzled, as you cup his face in your hands, their warmth soothing. Your thumb, which brushes across his cheekbones as he's done to you many times before. When your lips are dangerously close, tempting the man.

He expects your lips on his; but Lucifer is equally surprised and happy when you place a kiss on his temple, the action gentle and affectionate. From there, you move towards his cheeks, his forehead, brushing past stray hairs, and the demon closes his eyes and basks in your affection that you generously give him, letting you do as you please.

This is nice.

"Why this sudden burst of affection, love?" He mumbles, placing a kiss on your forehead as he speaks. "Although I'm not complaining."

"Just felt like it."

You shrug, and Lucifer raises a brow.

"Oh?" He places his hands on your waist, head buried into the crook of your neck. You feel his lips there, warm and soft. "I suppose I may just have to be more busy now, if that is what will take for you to give me attention."

"I was the one asking for it!"

He laughs, the sound muffled in your skin.

BEELZEBUB

"There you go."

"Thank you!"

You grab hold of the bowl which is too big for you to handle, but given that you are making dinner for seven demons, including one adorable avatar of gluttony, you suppose the ladle which is as big as your fist is necessary.

Although you'll do whatever it takes to make your demon smile.

Beel stands behind you, watching the stew bubble. The fire from the stove reflects in his eyes, and the kitchen is immersed in a warm glow that banishes the cold that usually seeps in.

It's cozy.

And when you're the one cooking, Beel knows that he has to be patient. Wait, for it makes it all the more better, and also because you'll smack his hand with a spoon otherwise.

You turn around, and the demon takes a step back and sits on a chair, wanting to give you enough space to manoeuvre. He watches you put some dried newts in the bubbling pot, and when you turn towards him Beel assumes you may need something from the shelf behind him.

But you instead wrap your arms around his shoulders and bend down.

His face feels warm.

The demon closes his eyes and lets you do as you wish—pressing kisses on his face—a peck on his cheeks, another on his temple, somewhere on his nose, your lips are perhaps the best thing he's ever felt, and affection blossoms inside him.

It's so sudden, and yet welcome.

Beel smiles, pulling you closer.

It's in moments like these where he feels that he's complete, his eons-old grief temporarily forgotten, because you give him the strength to grow around it. It's when he knows that you are here and you love him, and Beelzebub loves you too.

He basks in the affection you give him, and the demon never fails to tell you that he loves you too.

"Heh..." Your Beel murmurs, cheeks turning pink. "That was sudden, but it felt nice. Though I can't help but ask, why?"

"Felt like it," You say, and smile. The same smile he wants to see on your face, the one he loves so much.

And what will he not do to ensure that he's able to make you happy.

"Could you..," He fumbles with his hands, nervous. "Kiss me again?"

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me beelzebub #obey me fluff #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me beelzebub x reader #om! lucifer #om! beelzebub #omswd

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aimbutmiss · 3 months

Text

I have been in a bughawk mood two nights in a row now but I've consumed all the available content so I've just been thrashing around restlessly- anyways I'm giving in I'm writing some headcanons let's go:

- Mihawk is a sloppy kisser. Like, what's the point if he's not basically tongue fucking someone?? Let's just say Buggy was NOT prepared. Their first kiss was so messy and it left Buggy breathless and he kind of wanted to punch Mihawk but also to kiss him again (he didn't have to choose as Mihawk quickly did the latter)

- They're both big on reading. Once they realised their shared interest they decided to start their own little book club. They mostly read romance because they think it's funny (but they also genuinely enjoy it, when it's well written...) Their favourite thing to do is talking about the smut scenes and trying to decipher the sex positions the characters are in. It's harder than it sounds. Bonus: Crocodile takes interest in their new found thing (purely because he thinks it's weird that they're getting along so well) and picks up the latest book they're reading when he sees it on a table. Let's just say he is mortified.

- Mihawk's garden is very personal to him. It's his one escape from everything, so he let's no one in (not that anyone would dare) There is however one exception to this rule, and that is Buggy. While the clown is usually very loud and flashy, he tends to get very quiet in privacy and Mihawk appreciates that. It's nice to have company sometimes. Whether Buggy is just sitting there doing whatever in silence, or he's reading to Mihawk as he tends to his vegetables, his presence has become a source of comfort. Mihawk would never admit it out loud but he almost prefers it to his solitude.

- Mihawk doesn't care for physical affection, but Buggy thrives on it. He loves cuddling, which is not something Mihawk is used to. He usually disappears after the nightly activities are done with. He's so used to leaving that it's exactly what he does after his first time sleeping with Buggy. The other man is so distraught the next day and it confuses Mihawk. Buggy's eyes are bloodshot and he's seemingly ignoring him. A quick confrontation makes him realise that the clown assumed he regretted the night before just because he wasn't there when he woke up. Mihawk never left him alone at night after that. And quite honestly, he's come to realise cuddling actually does feel nice.

- While Mihawk is not big on physical touch, he does love playing with Buggy's hands like a fidget toy. The contrast between their hands, his long, slim pale and manicured fingers against Buggy's slightly chubby, darker and clearly worked ones is fascinating to him. And they're so soft to the touch. He loves just detaching one hand from its owner and holding it when they're apart. When Buggy does eventually need the hand, if he does resist giving it back for a bit, its their little secret.

#i needed to get this out of my system #maybe I'll do crocobug next #not today tho im too tired 😴#one piece #buggy the clown #cross guild #dracule mihawk #sir crocodile #buggy x mihawk #bughawk #my writing

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barefoothighlander · 1 year

Text

mary on a cross - hero of the day

-simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

-warnings: violence, death, smut (mdni), unprotected p-in-v, oral (fem rec), creampie, simon has a dirty mouth, mentions of alcohol, mentions of domestic violence (nothing graphic)

-word count: 6k

-summary: as you and simons relationship grows, outside forces conspire to reveal his secret, leading to him having to protect you by any means necessary. mercenary au

prev chapter fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: ok so I finally got around to playing mw 2019 and I fear a Price phase is coming on so... we'll see what happens. Not proofread, sorry for any grammatical errors

The mornings you and Simon woke up to were very different, yours was filled with a warm breeze from the window and a sense of comfort, not only from your bed but from your current life. You were happy, finally, it took years for you to gain the strength to leave but now that you’ve created the life you wanted, you felt content, secure. Simon’s morning was filled with dread, he barely slept that night, deciding to rather spend his time pacing his bedroom after he hung up the phone with Johnny, the two of them had worked together a few years prior, before Simon’s retirement and they had grown rather close, even using the term friends sometimes (though Johnny used it far more liberally than Simon). But it had been years since the two talked, not for any specific reason, just that Johnny had remained in the force and Simon grew used to living a life of solitude, not bothering to call Johnny over the years. He didn’t have Johnny’s number saved in his phone, but he wouldn’t mistake that voice anywhere, that obnoxious Scottish accent that he swears pierces his skull. It was a shock for Simon, being so cautious with his past time having everyone including the local police confused, but Johnny knew him, they had been through war together, he knew all of his moves, his favourite weapons, the only thing he didn’t know was the why.

“What are you doing going about killing civvies?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about MacTavish” Simon responds, trying to keep his breathing regular as to know alert Johnny

“Bullshit LT, it’s you, I've seen you kill enough men to know what it looks like” He takes a beat, “I’m not gonna turn you in”

Simon almost sighs in relief.

“I just want to know why, you left the force years ago, I’d thought your violent years were behind you, hell if you wanted to kill you should’ve stayed”

“They’re bad people Johnny”

“They always are”

“They’re not innocent, I just wanted people- innocent people to be safe”

“Alright”

The two men sit on the phone in silence for a few minutes, neither one daring to speak.

“I’ll see you in the morning LT,” Johnny says before hanging up.

Simon sat in his bed, his heartbeat in his ears, fuck he’ll ask more questions, he gets up and begins pacing slowly back and forth, you’ll ask questions. He never wanted to tell you about his past, he didn’t want to scare you, he knew you’d look at him differently if you knew what his military file had in it, he knew you’d run far away if you knew what his current past-time was, he couldn’t have Johnny talking to you it would ruin everything, he needed a way to get rid of Johnny without him giving away his secret, and without raising your suspicions.

Rather than sit anxiously in bed all morning Simon had gone to the gym beside the pub, it wasn't a large commercial gym by any means, but it had punching bags, and that was more than he could ask for, reposting to work out some of his stress on the large bags he threw punch after punch till his already sore knuckles were swollen and red. Deciding that he had inflicted enough pain on himself for the day he grabbed his bag and made his way back to the pub, going to turn the key in the lock before realizing it was already open. Immediately Simon went into fight mode, prepared to attack whoever decided to trespass onto the property, his trance only broken by the sound of laughter, your laughter, his shoulders untensed as he pushed the door open to find you, head thrown back in laughter, smile wide and bright, and him, next to you.

You turn your attention from Johnny towards the door, eyes locking on the large looming figure advancing towards you.

“Good morning,” you say, smiling as wide as ever. Simon's gaze shifts between you and Johnny.

“Mornin”

“Sleep well?” Johnny asks, a smirk on his face as he sips his coffee, Simon ignores his questions.

“Johnny said he knew you from the force, figured I’d let him in before we open so he could say hi”

Simon spares a tight-lipped smile in your direction, “Yea we um, worked together for a bit”

Johnny fakes insult, “Just wanted to check in LT, finally got leave so I’m back for a bit”

Simon gives a curt nod as he busies himself cleaning glasses, you sense the tension in the air.

“I’m gonna go get some coffee, did either of you want anything”

“No” “I’ll take a tea lass” both of the men respond, you smile and make your way out the door.

“You shouldn’t be here Johnny”

“She’s sweet”

Simon turns his gaze to stare daggers at Johnny as a smirk creeps up on his face

“You like her” Johny asks, though it’s not a question

“She’s not a part of this”

“So she doesn’t know?”

“No one does”

Johnny nods his head looking around the room before continuing.

“Are you going it for money?”

“No”

“Then what?”

Simon sighs, “When I got back, I spent a week just sitting in my flat, watching the news, trying to catch up on whatever I’d missed. The people, the children that were being harmed, I couldn’t just watch it happen.”

“So it’s about your family”

Before Simon can respond you walk back in, tray of drinks in your hand.

“I know you said you didn’t want anything but I figured I’d get you some anyway”

Johnny watches as Simon's body untenses at the mere sight of you, glancing at his eyes that are practically heart-shaped. You place the drinks atop the bar and both men reach to grab theirs, Simon mumbling a soft thank you in your direction.

“Oi doll, could you grab some extra glasses from the back,” Simon asks, you nod at him and turn to walk towards the backroom.

“Let me help you,” Johnny says, Simon furrows his brows.

“I don’t need your help, Johnny”

“Right, what happens if you get caught?”

“I won’t”

“You don’t even exist technically, you get caught an the whole team gets investigated”

“I won’t get caught” Simon stands stern as Johnny shakes his head in disbelief. “You should go”

“Right” Johnny gives him a sad look, “I’m off lass!” he shouts to you. You poke your head around the corner.

“Already? Well alright, don’t be a stranger” you say with a smile as Johnny gives you a wave turning away to exit.

“I’ll be in town,” he says to Simon, it’s more of a warning.

Simon feels his mind flush with a million thoughts at once as soon as Johnny leaves.

“So, the weirdest thing happened last night,” you say, moving back into your seat at the bar, Simon gives a hmm in acknowledgement, keeping his attention on cleaning the bar.

“News said they found two bodies on a street close to here, just freaked me out cause I take that street home”

“Strange”

“Right, and remember how I was telling you about those guys following me” You wait for his nod, “It was the same street, can’t be a coincidence”

Simon feels his pulse start to race, there’s no way she thinks it’s me. You shake your head

“I don’t know, just weird. Guess I have to find a new route home”

“I can take you home,” Simon says a little too quickly

“No I don’t want to be a burden, I don’t live far anyway”

“You could never be a burden”

You feel your cheeks flush a little, looking toward your feet.

“Alright”

The two of you enter a comfortable silence, going about your tasks individually, but always within reach of each other. The day was slow, with a handful of people coming in once and a while to get a few drinks, by midnight it was dead quiet, you and Simon occupying yourselves with quiet conversation that was mostly one-sided.

“Top five books,” you say

“What?” Simon responds with a raised brow

“What are your top five books, I’ve noticed you reading in the mornings”

He gives a small nod, “Not sure, maybe dorian gray, hell’s angels, jekyll and hyde, moby dick, and jane eyre.

“You’ve read jane eyre”

“A few times yeah”

“Cute, no books about war?”

“Feels strange to read about it when you’ve lived through them”

“Them? Like multiple”

“What are yours” He changes the topic quickly

“Doesn’t matter” you say and he smirks.

He looks outside to the dark street, “We should probably get you home”

You nod and gather your bag, Simon walks beside you, locking the pub before the two of you make your way to the street, he places a soft hand on your waist to guide you in a different direction, and you feel heat flush your body from the contact. The two of you turn a corner and walk to a small alley beside the pub where a motorcycle is sitting.

“You ride a motorcycle,” you ask almost amused. He huffs a laugh at the question urging you closer as he turns the key in the ignition, you hear the bike roar to life as Simon turns to place a helmet on your head, securing it before sitting on the bike, he waits for you to get on the back. You nervously place your hands on his shoulders, unaware of how to sit, he reaches back for your arms, pulling them tight over his stomach and forcing your chest to press against his back. You try to stop yourself from feeling over the strong muscles of his stomach, he turns the bike to make his way down the alley onto the street, speeding up as he enters onto the road. You cling to him and he can’t fight the smile that creeps up on his lips, he revels in your touch no matter the circumstances, he liked that you were holding on to him so tightly seeking safety. The ride to your flat was short but exciting, Simon driving more cautiously than he normally would. He parks the bike outside your building as you remove the helmet passing it to him, you smooth your hair from your face before thanking him and making your way to your door.

You close the door behind you and fall against the wall trying to come to terms with what you were feeling, you didn’t want to take your hands off him, you wanted to press further into his flesh and let your hands roam all over him. You think about exploring his body, feeling his muscles under your palms, his fingers digging into your hips and heat pools in your lower stomach, you bite your lip and in a surge of confidence you open your door again to see him leaning against the bike, smoking a cigarette. You lock eyes and he quirks his head.

“Did you want to come in?” you ask sheepishly and without a second thought he throws his cigarette to the pavement and closes the space between you. It happened so quickly, the door was pushed open and he grabbed your face with both hands, not wasting a minute in attaching his lips to yours, his kisses are feverish, and tongue and teeth and he closes the door with a kick of his leg and moves you back against the wall, he leaves your lips to plant wet kisses down your neck and collarbone as your hands roam over his shoulders, chest, back, any part of him you could reach. You feel his weight press against you as he lifts you up against the wall, lips returning to yours as his tongue begs entry and you oblige. The two of you are a mess of gasps and moans, trying to catch any breath between the kisses, he begins walking you down the small hallway as you direct him to the bedroom in between kisses.

He drops you onto the mattress, lips never leaving yours as you arch your back to lift your shirt and he does the same giving your hands full access to paw at his skin, you feel your fingers over his littered scars you’ll ask later. He reaches down the hem of your pants, looking to you for permission, you nod and attach your lips to his neck as he undresses you, your arms reaching behind your back to remove your bra. You’re left in just your panties, laying on the bed, lips swollen and eyes blown wide in lust while Simon takes a step back to admire you muttering curses under his breath that bring a rosy tint to your cheeks. He kneels down and places a trail of kisses across your bare stomach as your fingers find their way to his scalp, raking through his hair, his fingers come to curl around your underwear before peeling them down your legs as he looks over your dripping pussy.

“Christ, so wet already”

You blush and he smirks before diving in, licking thick stripes up your slit, lapping up every drip he can, teasing it with his fingers before pushing them into you, he’d take his time later, he wanted you, needed to feel you come apart on him. Your head is thrown back, slurs of moans leaving your lips as your fingers grip his hair in an attempt to ground yourself. The combination of his fingers and expert tongue bring you to your peak quickly, your chest tightening as your high builds.

“That’s right pretty girl, cum for me, cum on my fingers”

You let out a loud gasp of his name as you reach your climax, he licks you through it, replacing his fingers with his tongue in order to swallow every last bit of your high. He places a few more kitten licks to your swollen pussy before moving up to entrap you between his arms, reaching down to kiss you.

“Taste so sweet,” he says reaching down to unbutton his pants before taking them off. You glance at his throbbing cock through his boxers, it’s big, bigger than you’ve taken before. He reads your eyes,

“S’alright doll, I’ll be gentle”

“No,” you say but it comes out as a whimper, “want you to fuck me, hard”

A smirk creeps onto his face as he grips your waist, flipping you onto all fours, you’ve barely caught your breath, limbs weak as you try to hold yourself up. He grabs a handful of your ass, placing kisses down your spine before bending to bit lightly at the meat of your ass, you let out a small yelp and he kisses over the skin, teasing the head of his cock through your puffy lips. He plants a firm grip at your hip before pushing into you, letting out a moan. You let out a curt fuck as he pushes in, leaning down to encase you, planting a palm next to your shoulder before he begins slowly pumping into you inch by inch.

“Doing so well love, just a little more”

You can’t help the breathless moans that escape your lips. He bottoms out with a large breath that you feel fanning over your cheek, your arms give out as your face falls in contact with the bed. He pulls himself back up to trace his palm between your shoulder blades as he continues pumping into you. As your pussy adjusts to the size of him you begin moving your body back against him in time with his thrusts, feeling the tip of his cock prodding at your cervix. He brings both hands to knead at the flesh of your ass, spreading the cheeks apart to get a clear view of him fucking you.

“Fucking hell, feel so good love”

He picks up his pace and you hear your headboard colliding with the wall behind it, drool pooling on the sheets under your mouth as you cry out his name.

“That’s right baby, say my name”

“Si- Simon fuck”

He reaches a hand around to toy with your clit and you feel your muscles constrict around his length.

“Fuck squeezin' me so tight”

He reaches a hand around your throat and pulls you upright, your back arched and flush with his chest as he holds you against him, your hands coming to grab at his thick forearm in an attempt to keep yourself upright. You can’t think, your mind clouded with only him, his scent is intoxicating, all you can feel is him. He brings you to your peak, sucking at your neck hard enough that it was sure to leave a mark as you moan into his ear.

“Yes fuck, right there, please Simon”

“Yea, that feel good love”

You nod.

“Words baby”

“Yes God please”

He continues thrusting into you, fingers circling your clit faster as that familiar coil burns in your lower abdomen.

“Shit I’m gonna cum”

“Yea? Fuck cum on me, wanna feel you squeeze my cock”

And you do, you come undone in his arms, your pussy soaking his cock and he fucks you through your second high, never slowing his pace. When you finally come down you’ve lost all control of your body, your thoughts are fuzzy as he flips you onto your back and pushes back into you, bringing your knees to your chest and holding them there. You can’t form words, body overstimulated from your orgasms.

“Not gonna last, where do you want me”

“Inside please, need to feel you,” you say but it comes out as a whisper.

He can’t deny you, not when he has you under him, completely lost in him, begging for his cum, his muscles tense as he slows his thrusts, spilling his hot seed deep into you with a deep grunt. He releases your legs but keeps himself inside, leaning down to kiss your glistening neck, he stays there for a while, both of you catching your breath, basking in the warmth of him.

He removes his softening cock from you and watches as the mixture of both your orgasms spills out before leaving to grab you a warm towel. He runs it over your body, careful to not hit your overstimulated clit before tossing it to the laundry bin and settling down next to you, you reach for him nuzzling into his broad chest as his arm moves to hold you close to him, lips pressed to the crown of your head.

“Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that” he says and you giggle into his chest, hands roaming to feel over his scars.

“They’re old, wounds from when I served,” he says as you glance up at him, “knew you were gonna ask at some point”

You smile, reaching up to kiss him, head falling back against the pillow as he brings his hands the push your hair out of your face, you stare into his eyes, his face gives nothing away but his eyes, they’re full of emotion, he looks at you like you hold the world. You feel yourself growing tired as you cuddle back into him,

“Stay here,” you say

“Okay”, you feel the deep rumble of his voice through his chest as you close your eyes letting the warmth of him comfort you into sleep.

The two of you are woken to the loud noise of banging at your door, you open your eyes slowly, your limbs are tangled between Simon’s as his arms hold you close, cursing to yourself that you’d have to leave him. You move from his chest and throw on some pants and his shirt, making your way to the door, opening it your heart falls to the floor.

“Alex” your chest feels empty, why was he here, how did he find you?

“Hey babe”

You shake your head trying to close the door but he places his foot in the way.

“Can we just talk”

“No - I left for a reason” You glance back at Simon in your bed, still asleep. “You need to leave”

He follows your eyes, “Is someone here” The tone in his voice grows angrier as he pushes the door to let himself in, you stumble back.

“Alex please, go home I don’t want you here” you beg as tears prick your eyes, it had taken everything in you to leave him and here he was in your apartment.

“Who the fuck is that” he yells turning back to you, invading your space and forcing your body to move back against the wall as your arms come up to plead defence.

“You leave me and move here to fuck some other guy, you fucking slut”

“Alex please”

His hand makes firm contact with the wall beside your head, making you flinch as your tears start to flow down your cheeks.

“What is wrong with you, I gave you everything”

Before you can object a deep voice calls from the other side of the room.

“I’d back off if I were you”

You look up, eyes locking on Simon’s and you can see the anger that's burning it’s way to the surface

“Seriously, hey just fuck off man this doesn’t concern you,” your ex says, turning his attention towards the large man.

“It concerns me plenty,” Simon says crossing the room to tower over Alex

“Simon please” you beg, he can see in your eyes that you don’t want him to hurt Alex, but every fibre of his being wants to kill him, slit his throat and throw his body into some alley for the rats to feed on. Alex puffs his chest and pushes at Simon with his hands, he doesn’t move an inch, tilting his head down to glare at your ex's face.

“You need to leave”

“You fucking leave, she’s my girlfriend”

Simon feels his anger come to a tipping point as he grabs Alex’s neck and shoves him against a wall, your quiet pleas lost in his fit of rage. Alex brushes him off, sparing you a final glance.

“This isn’t over, I’ll be back,” he says before leaving, slamming the door behind him hard enough that you jump. You sink backwards against the wall.

“Are you alright?” Simon asks scanning your body for any evidence that you were hurt.

You shake your head, “You shouldn’t have done that”

“He was hurting you-”

“No Simon, you don’t understand, he’s not going to stop, he followed me here” Your cheeks are stained with tears, your breath heavy.

“Then I’ll deal with him,” he says slowly bringing his hands to hold your face as you stare up at him. God help any man who tried to hurt you in his presence, “I promise, he’s never going to touch you again”

You sniffle, trying to catch your breath as he wraps his arms to hold you, this was just another person he’d have to take care of, he’d kill everyone if it meant keeping you safe. The two of you stand in the living room, not a word shared between you as he just continues to hold you, shushing your quiet sobs, placing tender kisses on the crown of your head. You felt safe in his arms, your anxiety settling as his palms caress over your spine.

“I’ll kill ‘em if I have to”

You release a giggle, as Simon smiles but he’s being serious. After a few minutes, the two of you continue your morning, Simon making tea as he doesn’t trust you to do it properly while you stand in the shower, letting the warm water ease your tense muscles.

You jump as the curtain pulls back, Simon’s head popping in, eyes lingering on your naked form.

“Take a picture why don’t you”

“Don’t tempt me”

You laugh at his remark.

“I’ve gotta head over to the pub” his eyes full of lust, every bit of him trying hard to not jump in the shower with you, “I’ll see you over there in a bit yea?”

You nod leaning over to kiss him, biting lightly at his lower lip.

“Minx,” he says and splashes some of the water at you.

Simon leaves and you continue with your morning, drying off from the shower and getting dressed for work. You weren’t sure how the new dynamic would work, you had always found Simon attractive but this was new, you’d never slept with someone you had to see every day. You didn’t know if this was a one-time thing, you hoped it wasn’t but Simon wasn’t the best about vocalizing his emotions, you didn’t want to just come out and ask, so you’d have to wait, test the waters, see how he felt about you.

By noon you had made your way to the pub, the cool air inside a welcome sensation after your walk in the warm air outside, you settle your things, peeking around the corner to try and find him.

“Simon?”

No response, maybe he was upstairs, you’d never been to his flat and it felt strange to just invite yourself in so you stayed in the pub, finding tasks to complete while you waited for him. A few minutes pass and you hear a loud crash from upstairs.

“Si?” you yell, hoping it’s him upstairs and not some robber, silence fills the next minute before you see him emerge from the back door looking a little dishevelled.

“Hey love, make it here okay?” he asks placing a kiss on your lips. You’re a little taken aback at his quick pace.

“Yeah fine, what was that noise”

He looks over to you taking a beat, “Knocked a chair over, was rushing around too quick I guess”

You nod, not fully believing him but trusting him enough that you didn’t pry further. The two of you fell into routine, pouring drinks for regulars, restocking liquor, cleaning glasses, having small conversations between customers.

“I’ve gotta check something in the flat, I’ll be back quick,” he says rushing up the back stairs.

You occupy yourself cleaning as you hear more noise from upstairs, deciding you needed to check it out for yourself. You make your way up the back stairs, slowly opening the door to the flat peering inside. It wasn’t anything spectacular, essentially just one large room, a bed at the far wall in front of a window, there was a small kitchen tucked against another wall, everything was very clean, it looked like he never used the furniture. You look around for him as you step into the room, following the sound of his heavy breaths around a corner, he’s standing at a large window looking out, a creak in the floor alerts him to your presence.

“Hey, sorry not as quick as I thought”

You look around, nothing is out of place so what was all the noise?

“It’s alright, just heard banging, didn’t know if you needed help with something”

“Huh? Oh- no was just looking for something, forgot where I’d placed it”

“Placed what”

He looks at you, jaw slack as he tries to think of a response.

“My tags, dog tags, wanted to throw them in with the rest of my stuff just couldn’t remember where they were”

You glance over, eyes locking on his bedside table, you flick your head in their direction.

“Found ‘em”

He huffs a laugh, crossing the room to pick them up, toying with them in his hands before moving over to you. He glances down at you, raising his arms to place the chain around your neck, you stare up at him, quirking your brow.

“Look better on you” he says, leaning to kiss your forehead.

Your fingers come up to fiddle with the tags, eyeing them over, Lt. Simon Riley, well at least you knew his last name now.

“Did you close up”

You shake your head.

“Right well, meet you outside in 5. I’ll drive you home”

He begins walking away,

“Why don’t we stay here tonight,” you ask and he stops in his tracks, “Easier that way, don’t have to wake up any earlier to get to work”

He thinks it through in his head, he’s never had anyone in his flat, let alone stay the night, but it’s you.

“Yea alright, just give me a minute to close downstairs”

You nod, taking the time to further explore the space. Lots of books, a guitar sat in the corner, no pictures, he had barely anything on the shelves, it looked like he only used the space to sleep if that, the bed was perfectly made, not a single wrinkle in the sheets. You strip your body of your clothes, rummaging through his drawers to find a shirt, throwing it over your form as you settle into the bed, senses overtaken by his scent that lingers on the pillows. Simon steps back into the room, eyes landing on your half-naked form,

“Comfy”

“Very,” you say, stretching your limbs over the mattress as you feel it dip from his weight. He lays back and you crawl over him, legs caging his hips as his arms secure themselves around your back, chin nuzzled into your neck.

You revel in his warmth as he places light kisses over the skin not covered by his shirt, making his way to nip at your neck eliciting a small moan from you. You crane your neck to bring your lips to his, kissing him softly as his hands move down to grab at your ass. Your kisses become feverish as you feel yourself grow needier, light pushing your lips against him, Simon moves to kiss along your jaw, lips settling under your ear.

“What do you want pretty girl”

“You, need you,” you say through gasps, grinding yourself down onto his hardening cock

“Need me to what”

“Need to feel you, need to feel your cock inside me”

“Atta girl” He grips your hips with bruising strength as he grinds you back and forth against him, your hands moving to plant on his chest as your clit catches on the fabric of his boxers.

He moves you at a brutal pace and you can feel the arousal pooling in your lower stomach.

“Soakin’ me already baby, you gonna cum just from grinding on me”

You bite your lip, nodding as the sensation takes over your body, your legs tensing as you dig your nails into his flesh, your slick leaking from your orgasm, soaking through your panties onto his hard length.

He lifts you off him, pulling his boxers down, his throbbing length slapping at the skin of his lower abdomen.

“Wanna ride you” you say breathlessly as Simon smirks.

You push yourself up, lining his cock up with your weeping cunt before settling down on him, taking him slowly, gasping at the stretch. His hands grab at your shirt, lifting it over your head before his lips move to kiss at your breasts, tongue teasing over your hard nipple as your fingers rest on his shoulders stabilizing you. Once you settled you begin bouncing slowly up and down his cock, your juices leaking down pooling at the base, and coating his pubic hair. He leans back, hands on your hips encouraging you to continue, he thrusts up abruptly, forcing your body forward, hands planting on his firm chest and you continue to ride him, the friction from his pubes hitting just the right spot that you’re able to grind your clit against him

“That’s right pretty girl, use me, make yourself cum on my cock”

You lean down to kiss him and his arms wrap around your back, holding you to him as he plants his feet against the mattress and begins thrusting up into you at a brutal pace, your head falls to his neck as choked sobs escape your lips. You bite down on the meat of his shoulder, hands grasping at the sheets as he continues to fuck you.

“Fuck - look at me, wanna see you when you make a mess all over my cock”

You arch your back, head coming to rest against his forehead as you stare down at him, your jaw’s fallen open, strings of moans escaping as he reaches to kiss you, forcing his tongue into your mouth as he continues his assault on your pussy.

“Fuck, m’gonna cum”

“That’s right, good girl, wanna feel you squeeze me”

He latches his lips to yours, swallowing the moans that come from your orgasm, fucking you through it at a brutal pace as he chases his own high.

“Fuck you feel so good, so tight” He groans eyes locking onto where your bodies meet, mesmerized at the sight of your pussy swallowing his large cock. You dig your nails into his shoulders as he grips tightly around you, thrusting a few more times until he lets out a loud moan and you feel your pussy being filled by his warm seed, pumping a few more times, letting you milk him dry as your foreheads come into contact again, the two of you rest against each other trying to catch your breath, he places a kiss to your lips before slowly rolling you over onto your side, holding you tight to his chest where you plant kisses over his scars.

You fall asleep quickly, your body tired and mind quiet at the sensation of Simon's breaths against your cheek, he listens to your breathing, his own mind racing with thoughts. He had followed your ex from your flat, conveniently walking down the street near the pub as Simon invited him in for a drink and a chat, Alex had obliged entering the doors before Simon locked them and wrapped his arms around his neck effectively incapacitating Alex, he wasn’t thinking, all he could feel was his anger, he hated him for hurting you, hating the fact that he had even been able to touch you even more, you were his, no one would touch you except him. He had dragged Alex’s body up the short flight of stairs into his flat, positioning him near the bathroom, giving him time to wake up before continuing his assault, he wanted him to feel every hit, every bruise and ache that would remind him not to go near you, Simon landed blow after blow to his body, blood spitting from his mouth pooling under his head. He didn’t mean to kill him, but somewhere along the way, his sight turned black, his fists moving on their own accord coming into contact with Alex’s head.

Simon stood back, catching his breath now fully aware of what he had done, ignorant to your presence downstairs he grabbed the body leaving it in the bathtub, he would come back later when his head was clear to clean up.

When he finally returned upstairs later he knew he had to be quick, wrapping the body and tossing it out the window into the alley behind, he knew the routine of the sanitation workers, he had enough time to take you home and come back to responsibly dispose of your ex so that no one would know it was him. What he didn’t account for was you, standing in his flat as his hands were wet with soapy water from cleaning the blood off the floor, he panicked, he couldn’t lie to you, he wanted you to trust him, but his instinct to protect you from who he really was took over.

He never planned on giving you his tags, but seeing the smile on your face after he put them on you he can’t picture you without them, a chain around your neck with his name, a visible marker to let him know that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

He couldn’t sleep, even with the comfort of your body next to his, he had to clean up before you noticed anything. Carefully he removed himself from your arms, watching the way you tucked into yourself at the loss of warmth, he made his way over to the window to look upon the corpse, devising a plan that would allow him to get rid of it only for his eyes to focus on an empty alley.

The body was gone?

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