#this one got long but it still goes onto the drabble pile

[evilhasnever]

Funky xiyao prompt: Modern reincarnation au— the Lans remember but no one else does. JGY is stressed and upset because LXC's family hates him with no apparent reason.

Thank you, this is such a juicy prompt!! I got inspired for some reincarnation shenanigans today, I hope you enjoy.

(no CWs except perceived classism)

xiyao - modern reincarnation AU

When Lan Huan invites him to their “grand occasions” date spot, Meng Yao knows what to expect. This was their first date restaurant, a place expensive enough that Meng Yao had been on pins and needles the whole time - yet casual enough that Lan Huan had worn just jeans, a T-shirt and a fancy leather wrap bracelet, distracting enough in itself to get Meng Yao through dinner without panicking. 

It has been seven months since then and they’ve been going steady, but Meng Yao knew it in his bones that it couldn’t last. Experience tells him all good things come to an end, and this has been the best thing to happen to him yet, so it stands to reason that Lan Huan took him here for one last bout of nostalgia. One last expensive dinner bestowed on the food stamps kid, before he likely tells him they simply aren’t going to work out. The thought infuriates him, even though he knows Lan Huan likely sees it as a kindness. No text breakups for Lan Huan, he is too pleasant and tactful for that level of disrespect.

Meng Yao isn’t being paranoid. He has irrefutable evidence that the Lan family, as a whole, detests him. He has met Lan Huan’s uncle and guardian exactly once, and the man obstinately refused to even look at him. Lan Huan’s brother is worse, somehow, because he stares at him intensely every time they cross paths and couldn’t even muster paltry pleasantries when Lan Huan introduced them.

It is hard not to draw a logical connection between their different lots in life and the Lan family's stubborn cold shoulder towards Meng Yao. It is entirely unsurprising that old money elite like the Lans would turn up their nose when Meng Yao started skulking around their heir - who wouldn’t be suspicious? Except it had been Lan Huan who sought him out, Lan Huan who asked him out, Lan Huan who seemed trepidant that he would be turned down, absurdly.

So even though his family obviously disapproves, Meng Yao had to conclude that Lan Huan himself genuinely liked him. He doesn’t think himself particularly lovable, but he can tell Huan-ge is not the type to fuck someone he does not genuinely care for. Small mercies.

It had been nice while it lasted, but the signs are now clear - halfway through the date Lan Huan started minutely fidgeting with his watch, looking down at his lap rather than holding prolonged eye contact as he usually does. Meng Yao eats his fancy dinner in bitter silence.

“A-Yao…” Lan Huan finally says over the organic tiramisu they’ve been picking at. “You have probably already guessed I have something to say.”

Meng Yao takes a deep breath and holds it in his lungs, a buoy to keep himself afloat. “Go on, Huan-ge.”

Lan Huan shakes his head for a moment, then takes out a little box and slides it gently across the table. Meng Yao stares at it blankly. 

“I had a speech,” Lan Huan begins, “but I don’t really think it was good enough for this. So I will just come out and say it. A-Yao, would you… consider marrying me?”

Meng Yao can count on one hand the times in his life he’d been utterly poleaxed, and this one firmly tops them.

“You… want to get married?” he blurts out, forgetting all about composure. “There is absolutely no way your uncle will approve.”

Lan Huan’s brow crumples elegantly and he looks down, his fingers tracing the little velvet box almost stubbornly. “It’s 2023, A-Yao. I do not need anyone’s permission to get married.” 

“But… but your family hates me,” Meng Yao stammers, brain trying to recalibrate itself too quickly. He’d been steeling himself to smile in the face of a breakup, and the face-turn is making his head spin.

“Why would you think so?” Lan Huan asks, in his gentle but diplomatic voice that means Meng Yao is right on the money.

“Huan-ge,” Meng Yao huffs. “Your uncle pretends I do not exist and your brother looks cross every time he is reminded that I do. I am pretty sure he had someone run a background check. It is very obvious that they have something against me.”

Lan Huan’s handsome face twists into a rare expression of discomfort. It would be fascinating, if it weren’t for the fact that Meng Yao hates to make Huan-ge unhappy for any reason.

“Is there… something you think they should hold against you?” Lan Huan finally asks, delicately but intently. He lets the question hang for much longer than it would normally be polite, looking half hopeful and half terrified.

Meng Yao can't help a frown. Other than being born poor, what crime has he ever committed? In another situation he’d pout to get Huan-ge to fuss over him, but this time his confusion is entirely genuine. ”Well. I didn’t go to Harvard, for one,” he tries to joke. “I assume your uncle wanted you to date among peers.”

“A-Yao’s academic and professional results speak for themselves. But,” Lan Huan sighs thoughtfully, “I am aware that people will often look at labels and no further. I promise you, Uncle is not such a person. He will come around once he realizes how much you have achieved on your strength alone. Don’t let anyone’s expectations get in the way of your ambition.”

Sometimes Lan Huan seems wise beyond his years - Meng Yao initially wrote it off as a by-product of his being obscenely educated, but on occasion his observations hit too close to home in a very personal way. It is almost unnerving. 

“If you know my ambitions, you know that I do not want to marry rich,” Meng Yao murmurs, reaching out for the velvet case. He does not dare open it.

“I know,” Lan Huan promptly replies. “My proposal is entirely selfish. I would be the one with the most to gain if you said yes.”

Meng Yao chuckles sadly. “You are such a charmer, Huan-ge. There is no need to flirt at this point.”

“It’s no flirting, A-Yao,” Lan Huan says, staring at him with that deep-water gaze that occasionally seems to see beyond Meng Yao. “I am certain that I do not wish to live a life without you. If… If you also want me.”

Meng Yao has goosebumps, and he is not certain if it is because of Lan Huan’s unusual intensity or the enormity of the commitment he is considering. But that glimmer of uncertainty on his boyfriend’s gentle features is unacceptable, so he has to reach across the table to peck a kiss on his lips. 

When he sits back down he opens the little box, almost fearful of finding a diamond too big to wear in public. He needn't have worried - Lan Huan, while a romantic, is never a show off. His sentiment is shown through care rather than big displays. The engagement ring sitting in the little velvet case is a gold band with a bluish-green inlay, rather masculine and simple in design. 

“Jade?”

“Jade,” Lan Huan smiles, though Meng Yao has never seen him so nervous. “Do you like it?”

The ring fits perfectly, of course. Magically so. “Yes.”

He’d say he must have done something right in his past life to get a man like this if he believed in that stuff. But the point remains that Lan Huan is offering his heart in a little velvet case, and he simply cannot imagine not taking it. The thought of anyone else ever making Lan Huan squirm like this, care like this, plead like this, fills Meng Yao with turbid jealousy, immediately replaced with the taste of triumph. His answer was a rather foregone conclusion, he supposes.

“Alright.”

“Is that a…”

“Yes.”

His fiance rises to hug him tight, making him sputter through laughter as a glass is upturned in the process. He hugs back, and squeezes his eyes shut. His vision is swimming, for some reason.

When he finally releases him, Lan Huan’s eyes are red but he is grinning widely, nearly looking half his age from sheer joy. “Go on,” he says, “call your mother. I’ll go get the check so you can tell her about how I almost utterly fumbled this.”

Meng Yao pretends to be scandalized for a moment, then waves him off with a laugh and takes a picture of his ring finger to text to his mama. 

After dinner they have excellent celebratory sex at Meng Yao’s apartment - it gets so enthusiastic that Lan Huan even forgets that weird foreplay of his, the “kissing-Meng-Yao’s-heart-until-it tickles” thing. Meng Yao enjoys his oddities, truth be told, but today he’s too well fucked to notice that Lan Huan forgot about his routine until the third round. Perhaps engagement sex just hits differently. 

“Need to buy a desk and an easel,” Lan Huan murmurs against his nape in the sleepy, sweaty afterglow. 

“What?” Meng Yao garbles back, ready to drop off at a moment’s notice.

“For me. Moving in. I assume A-Yao doesn’t want to move into the Lan’s family home with uncle.”

Meng Yao giggles hysterically, then reaches back to stroke Lan Huan’s hair approvingly. “Tomorrow, then.”

Irrational, caliginous thoughts crowd his half-asleep self, even as he drifts off into warmth. Sometimes he wonders if Lan Huan knows him better than he knows himself. Foresight is the only explanation for these occasional strokes of genius that manage to put even him on the backfoot. 

But that can’t be right… if he did, he’d know better.

He tries to reason with his unconscious, but the darkest part of his dormant mind worries that Lan Huan wouldn’t have approached him all those months ago if he truly, truly knew him. 

If he truly knew all about him, Er-ge would know to stay away.

It’s a good thing Huan-ge doesn't know, then.

#xiyao #xiyao drabbles #this one got long but it still goes onto the drabble pile #reincarnation AU #lan xichen #jin guangyao #meng yao #shiome fic

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Congratulations in 5K, wow that's amazing and I'm so happy for you!

Could you please write a Graves drabble (he doesn't get enough love) where he's just so absolutely in love with his SO? Like standing back, leaning against a door frame, and watching his partner do something as mundane as the dishes or drawing? Him softly smiling as his SO hums or does something subconsciously??

I love your writing. Thank you for being my comfort writer.

—Love Echoes In Silence

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You can feel him watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a small smile. Humming to yourself, you listen to the birds outside the window.] ❞

You dip your soapy hands back into the water, grabbing another plate before moving it over to the side to rinse its white porcelain face—finally setting it down in the plastic dish rack. Shifting back over, you hum under your breath and grab another, snatching up the washing rag as well to get rid of any residual germs. 

You’d only been at this for about ten minutes; the dishes from last night were left for this morning on account of Phillip coming home early. You’d both had a soft supper with a few glasses of red wine before retiring to bed, where the man was still asleep in the ruffled sheets as his bare skin lay in the rising sunlight; his stomach to the mattress and his hair sticking this way and that. It had been a chore to sneak out from under his arm, but you’d done it nonetheless even if it had taken a few minutes. One delicate kiss to Phillip’s forehead later, you’d slipped into his large t-shirt and padded to the kitchen. 

So, here you are, cleaning up with a smile on your lips and sleepy heat under Phillip’s shirt. A slow hum echoing through the air. 

Another dish is added to the clean pile, and as you grasp one of the dirty wine glasses, you miss the small creak of the floor leading to the kitchen as you listen to the birds outside. 

Phillip rubs at his face with the palm of his hand, yawning slowly before he pushes back his hair and watches. He’s only in his sweatpants—the gray color bunched as the un-tied waistband hangs at his hips. Blinking at you, a slow twitch goes across the man’s lips as he leans to the side, his shoulder to the door frame. 

He doesn’t speak—doesn’t utter anything as his arms cross over his chest and you continue your shapeless tune. Phillip isn’t a good man; he isn’t worthy of care or compassion. He’s done things that will follow him to his grave, the one he’d been digging himself since long before he met you. But there were moments like these where the light hit your body just right; where the house was silent and the floors were soft underfoot. 

Tiny moments that echoed like a call to home. 

You place the wine glass upside down to let the water drip out, wringing out the wash rag and unplugging the sink. You’d only begun washing your hands when your ears twitch to movement. A smile peels your lips.

“Mornin’,” Phillip mutters into your hair, hands sneaking around you until you’re held back to a bare chest. 

“Good morning,” you whisper, flicking off the water on your fingers. Your heart is light. “Sleep well?” 

He hums, squeezing you gently. 

“Come back t’bed.” Your chuckle makes him smile, eyes crinkling. 

“Phillip, I just got up.”

“C’mon, Sweetheart,” he pleads but doesn’t give you time to respond, arms bending to capture your legs and the span of your shoulders. You laugh as he hikes you into his hold—carrying you before your arms snap around his neck; curling into him. “Up ya get.”

“Really?” Your amused voice makes him look at you, raising one of his pale blows as he smirks softly. He brings you back to bed, tendrils of hair bouncing along the way. 

“Up and disappeared. You always leave the men with cold sheets and a yearnin’ in their hearts?” You roll your eyes, giggling into his neck. “You’ll be stickin’ right beside me today, Doll. That’s an order.”

All you do is kiss the corner of his mouth before he drops you both back onto the mattress.

#phillip graves #phillip graves x you #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves cod #call of duty modern warfare #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #x female reader #call of duty x you #cod mw22 #mw2 2022 #mw2 #modern warfare ii #mwii #cod mwii #phillip graves mw2 #x fem!reader #cod x female reader #female reader

[infiniteeight8]

IronStrange: Strange encounters an alternate universe where Tony is homeless, penniless (maybe Demon in a Bottle-tangent?) But Strange can't stay, all he can do is give Tony a moment of his time.

Break my heart, why don’t you! The idea I got was honestly too long for a drabble prompt, but I liked it a lot, so here’s a whole ficlet.

-

Since Tony’s energy signature started pinballing through dimensions, Stephen’s tracking spell has brought him to dozens of variations of Tony Stark. He’s seen him cavalier and thoughtless, never having become Iron Man. He’s seen him grievously wounded from battle, unable to walk or even bedbound. He’s seen him happily retired, beaming at Morgan’s graduation with Pepper by his side. He’s seen him broken: sometimes institutionalized, sometimes making the world suffer under his unbalanced mind.

He’s never seen this before.

If it hadn’t been for the tracking spell, Stephen never would have guess the crumpled pile of stained clothes wedged into a narrow service doorway was Tony Stark. As he approaches, the smell of alcohol gets stronger. When Stephen crouches down, he see the bottle, uncapped, cradled in one hand. Some of it has sloshed onto Tony’s clothes, but not much: the bottle isn’t full enough for that.

“Tony,” Stephen says quietly. 

It’s takes a few repetitions before Tony stirs, turning bleary eyes on Stephen. “I know you?” he asks with a vicious scowl. It makes Stephen wonder how many people had found him like this. Had they tried to help and he refused, or did they not even try?

Stephen shakes his head. “No, but I know you. I’m from an alternate universe. My Tony Stark has been unstuck from our dimension. I’m trying to find him.”

Tony blinks, slowly. “I’m not him.”

“No, you aren’t,” Stephen sighs.

Tony frowns at him for another long, aching moment. “Alternate universe?” he eventually managed.

Stephen tries not to show the sudden spark of hope. “Yes. There are infinite universes. I’m a Sorcerer; that’s how I travel between them.” He summons a mandala to demonstrate.

Tony’s eyes narrow. “There’s no such thing as magic,” he says, clearer than any other statement so far. Stephen swallows a laugh.

“Where I come from there is. I don’t know whether or not anyone practices it here.” He brings the mandala closer, and Tony moves to poke his finger through it, and then at Stephen’s hand, though he doesn’t let go of the bottle. 

Stephen lets him investigate for a minute, but he can’t stay long. His own Tony is still lost, and the energy for the tracking spell won’t last forever. “I have to go.”

Tony just nods unsurprised, and slumps back against the wall. 

Stephen casts the dimensional portal right there, where Tony can see him. When it comes to Tony Stark, curiosity has always been the best motivator, the most irresistible draw. Stephen doesn’t know if it’s enough of a line for this Tony to climb up, but it’s something. 

Before he goes, Stephen sends a magical message off to find this universe’s version of himself. Maybe it’ll find him in Kamar-Taj. Maybe it’ll find him in a surgical theatre. Maybe it’ll only find a grave. Regardless, Stephen has to try, because the idea of never knowing Tony Stark at all feels like a terrible fate.

#IronStrange #ficlet

[reasonablerodents]

So for your drabble requests collection. I would love it if you could write a ficlet about vampire Hotch having a thirst for Spencer, who's so beautifully willing (read horny) when he at last dares to drink from him.

I am nothing if not an absolute simp for absolutely anything to do with vampires and this is just suuuuuuch a good prompt!!!!! I had so much fun writing this and listening to Bauhaus and The Damned, really getting into those spooky (and hopefully) sexy vibes.

There’s no real description of the environment in this but feel free to imagine the most ott Anne Rice sort of deal because that’s totally what I was thinking.

Sanctum Sanctorum (M)

Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Vampire AU, Blood Drinking

* * * * * * * * * *

“Please,” Spencer breathes, tilting his head to the side to expose the delicate blue veins in his neck. “I know that you want this, Aaron.”

Of course he does. How, in any possible universe, could he not? Resisting the urge for this long has been torture, just as painful as a silver crucifix being pressed into his skin- and he knew how much that hurt, still had the scar to prove it.

“You need to be sure, Spencer.” Hotch tells him seriously, although if he had a heartbeat he’s sure it would be faster than it’s ever been. He cups Spencer's jaw with one cold hand, making him look directly into his eyes. “If I do this, we’ll be linked forever. Drinking directly from someone isn’t the same as blood that’s been stored, you know this. There’s nothing I’ll be able to do to sever our bond.”

“I know,” Spencer agrees, his sincerity visible even in the dim moonlight. “And that’s why I want it. I want you.”

Hotch knows that there’s no point in arguing further. Spencer had been trying for months, almost immediately after they’d started these midnight trysts. Every time, he’d got closer to giving in, a little more of his resolve weakened. By this point, the wall surrounding his urges was little more than a pile of rubble.

He uses his grip on Spencer's face to tilt his head further to the side, getting him exactly where he wants him. One hand goes to Spencer’s thigh, just close enough to his crotch to be tempting but too far for any actual contact- after all, Spencer had been teasing him for this long, it was his turn now.

Hotch gently lowers his head, licking over Spencer's neck in preparation, feeling the warmth of the blood as it rushes under the thin skin. He doesn’t need to breathe, but he does so anyway before he opens his mouth properly, indulging in one final nod to humanity before it leaves him completely.

The second Hotch’s fangs pierce him, Spencer moans, eyes fluttering closed as his lips open, his breath coming out in short pleasured gasps. Hotch can quite literally taste his arousal; it flows through his blood like a perfume, sweet yet dirty, a filthy and hedonistic undercurrent to it all.

He grips harder onto Spencer’s thigh when the younger man tenses up with another low moan, automatically jerking up into the air in a desperate search for friction.

“Please, Aaron,” he whispers reverently. “Touch me.”

#hotchreid #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #vampires #write for me rat boy

[softlymaximoff]

🩸 🌧️ can I request a drabble of WandaNat where Nat came home from a bad mission and Wanda ofc takes her of her baby? 🥺

Send emojis <3

Moya lyubov, your heart must hurt

18+ ONLY! MEN & MINORS DNI (blank blogs will be blocked you do not have my permission to republish my work onto any platform.

Summary: no matter how many missions Natasha goes on, Wanda is always there to help mend the shatter in her heart.

Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: injuries/blood/bruises, mental and physical exhaustion, mentions of mission complications, soft, comfort, fluff.

Word Count: 740

The quinjet shook lightly as the team landed onto the small airstrip accompanying the compound grounds. Fury, Natasha, Tony and Clint had all just come back from a month and a half long mission. The last few days were pure hell, each member had seen enough to last them years worth of therapy sessions and it was safe to say no one was going on any other missions soon.

A quiet rumble of thunder snapped Natasha out of her daydream and she winced when a flash of lightning followed not too far behind. She was never one for storms but usually stuck it out for Wanda who was outright terrified of them. Today however, with the frame of mind she was is she wanted nothing more than to fall in a heaped pile of blankets with her girlfriend.

As the jet finally stopped its engines, everyone limped out, the widow being victim of most injuries. Her arms and torso were severely bruised as was her left collarbone, she had a slightly open wound on her lip and her nose was still bleeding. Another round of lightning and thunder made her whimper and rush inside the compound as best as she could, a quiet hiss escaping as she unintentionally put pressure on her ribs while breathing.

“Nat you need to go to med bay, Laura and Wanda would kill me if they knew I’d let you finish the mission without getting checked” Clint raised an eyebrow when he got no response from her. “C’mon I’m taking you” he sighed sympathetically as he ushered her into the first med bay he could find. “No needles” she whispered with such fear he thought he might actually consider taking her off missions for a while.

“Alright no needles but we need to bandage you up and fix you. Im gonna go get Wanda okay? I promise I’ll be really quick” he assures as best he could while Natasha was practically shaking in fear on the table. She barely had the time to spiral into her own thoughts when a flurry of auburn hair ran in. “Oh malysh, you’re shaking moya lyubov come here” Wanda cooed over her injured girlfriend.

“It hurts Wans, my heart. It’s sore” Natasha’s voice was small and afraid, something she never really let loose. “Please fix me, make me forget” the slightly older avenger looked at Wanda with pleading eyes and Wanda teared up at the desperation. “Wha- Tasha no, I’m not using my magic on you. I’m telling Tony this is your last mission until I think you’re good to go again” she held her face gently and wiped Natasha’s lip. “Can you let me help you fix these nasty cuts up detka” Wanda moved around Nat with ease as she patched her girlfriend up.

Another roll of the unforgiving weather rang out and this time Natasha audibly and visibly whimpered closer to her girlfriend. “Oh baby, I’m almost done I’m sorry” Wanda frowned as she cleaned the last of Natasha’s face, now time for the torso. “Can you take your shirt off for me or do you want me to do it?” She asked softly and the redhead just lifted her arms up with a tense breath.

In a swift motion the spy was shirtless and Wanda had to hold back a gasp. She was severely bruised and painted all over with greens, blues and purples. “God babe, you’re a whole different colour” she whispered in shock grabbing her things to soothe the bruises. Tentatively, she began dabbing the cloth to remove all the dirt and grime off the tainted torso. “Wands it hurts” Natasha cowered back when her girlfriend brushed over a particular rib.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry” she murmured as she finished her up quickly. The minute Wanda was done, Natasha fell into her arms, clinging onto her like she’d disappear. “Hey shh c’mon why don’t we get you into some comfy clothes hmm? We can worry about showering tomorrow” Wanda mused over the thought as her girlfriend could only sniffle and cling tighter. “I’ve got you you’re okay. You’re safe” Wanda held back her own tears as she carried Natasha to their room.

One thing for sure was that if they wanted Nat to go on any more missions, they’d have to get through Wanda first. There was no way anybody was gonna mess with a protective Wanda, not even Maria could convince her.

#anon #asks #witchy answers #letterbox 💌 #wandanat #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wanda x natasha

[ronearoundblindly]

Fools Rush In (Oct 28th)

Flufftober Day Twenty-Eight-- picnic

drabble for steve rogers x wife!reader (series)

no warnings, just fluffy WC 688

“Joseph—“ you rummage farther into the book bag “—James Rogers, where is your inhaler? You know you aren’t supposed to leave without it.”

Little bud doesn’t seem to care as he squats, engrossed by the body movements of an earthworm in the dirt at the tree line of the river.

Steve huffs out a laugh. “I put the spare in the basket,” he leans in to whisper.

You can’t help but give him the ‘that’s not the point’ eyes.

“Well, thank goodness I keep an epipen in here anyway.” You shield your eyes in the sunlight, full and almost satisfied after a lovely picnic with your family. You decide to quit fussing for a minute, taking in the sights and sounds of your happy husband and giggling son on this final day before JJ goes to preschool.

Steve smiles at you, bright and beautiful, golden in the rays. “He’ll be fine, love.”

“Mommy,” your boy yells, rushing over with a heaping pile of soil in his hand, not just the worm. “Look!”

“Ooooo. Wow, bud. Can you do that dance?” You tickle his side. “Maybe that’s why we call you wiggle worm, huh?” Another tickle has JJ dropping the dirt on your lap and laughing.

Steve reaches over to pluck the worm and its cousin off your skirt and delivers them to safety behind him. He jumps up onto his feet. “Right. Should we show Mommy your wiggle worm dance?”

He laces two fingers into JJ’s tiny hands to raise his arms up and wobble the boy forward and backwards.

“Like this?”

JJ nearly dissolves in giggles, body morphing to jello against his father’s grip.

“What about this?” Steve dances JJ from side to side instead.

You latch your tickle fingers to your son’s tummy again. “I don’t know, not wormy enough.”

JJ lifts his legs up, and you’re careful to stop there to avoid an asthma attack. He’s just so darn cute when he’s this happy—Steve and JJ both. You try not to get misty-eyed for the second time today, thinking about the long hours your son will be in school, coupled with the few more you’ll be at work.

Steve hefts the boy’s skinny body up into the air, swinging him high. Maybe JJ isn’t gifted with strength from the serum, but he’s happy and healthy enough. Steve worries, you know, because he remembers all the time his own mother spent caring for his many ailments, but as you’ve assured many times, some things are just part of life. We can’t all be super, Sketch.

“Let’s help Mom pack up, ok? Then we can watch a movie tonight. How’s that sound?”

You waggle a finger. “Uh-uhn, boys, not with those dirty hands.” It’s basically 'peel up the blanket and toss it in the bag' anyway. No big deal. “You two head back and wash up. Pick out the movie—“

“ALADDIN,” JJ shrieks.

“Big surprise there,” Steve mutters.

“Aladdin it is, then. You know—“ you lift up without planting your palms in the dirt “—maybe one day you’ll meet Mommy’s friend, Michael, because he’s got blue skin, too. How’s that sound?”

“Yay!!!”

Steve face falls, and you barely suppress your own laugh. Teasing him over his one jealous outburst in nearly a decade is just way too fun to pass up.

You stick out your tongue in mockery, and Steve tries to swoop in to kiss you while it’s still poking out. He doesn’t quite make it, but the kiss is nice enough. He’s a good sport.

“Daddy, pick me up. I want a ride.”

Steve immediately obeys, adjusting JJ’s legs around his neck until settled.

“Again,” he turns back to you, “big surprise.”

“Oh yes, he’s an enigma, that one…”

Steve makes JJ wave from ‘all the way up there’ and say he loves you, and maybe your kid is still young enough to not completely comprehend, but you feel truly loved when both your boys look at you, framed by the light of late afternoon glistening off the Hudson. 

It’s the same as everything with Steve has been: not perfect but still absolutely perfect.

divider by @silkholland, challenge details @flufftober

[Day Twenty-Seven, Day Twenty-Nine]

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

#flufftober2022 #day 28 #marvel #steve rogers x reader #sketch and keeps #fools rush in #fluff and feels #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fic #steve x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers imagine #captain america fluff #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america fanfiction #series #steve rogers drabble #drabble

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"You Feel It Too?" Poly!Camping Boys X FEM! Reader. Fluff.

Today went so well and I am so happy that fuck it, did a little short self indulgent drabble about the reader coming out as polyam to their family and the boys dealing with that. Enjoy.

---

Rating. SFW. Length. 680 Words. Buddy Swanson X Sam Wescott X FEM! Reader. Warnings: Fluff. Concern. Hard Conversations. Coming Out. Polyamory. Brief Mentions Of Murder.

---

“We should be there.” Sam started and Buddy sighed, closing his book, he had been attempting to read but after five passes over the same paragraph while retaining nothing he knew it was a completely futile effort. 

His efforts to try and distract and lose himself in the pages of this story was clearly not working. He and Sam were left at home at your shared apartment while you were having a difficult conversation with your family, coming out at long last as polyamorous. 

“You know why we can’t be.” Buddy told him, setting the novel aside, “I mean, what if it goes bad man?”

“Exactly! What if it goes bad? Then we could be there for her! Defend her!” Sam tried to assert and Buddy shook his head, “You know just as well as I do that she would hate that, she wants to do this on her own, she wants to feel like she can and if we stepped in like that she’d feel disrespected or like we think she can’t handle herself which she can.”

“I know she can.” Sam grumbled, arms crossed and eyes downcast and Buddy got up off his chair and came over to sit next to his roommate/boyfriend/partner/best friend/whatever relationship label you wanted to slap on it at the moment. “But you still want to be there for her.”

“Exactly.” Green eyes lift to meet blue and Buddy offers up a small smile, a hand resting on his shoulder, “Well we are still going to get to do that for her whenever she gets back, alright?” 

Sam seems a bit soothed, a nod as he agrees, “You’re right. I’m just…”

“Worried?” Buddy asks and Sam says, “Yes, so worried! Waiting around here, no clue how it’s going, it’s killing me man!”

“You think it isn’t killing me either? I’m right there with you.”  He was, he was really feeling it hard, an arm around his shoulders, a squeeze and Sam leaned into the touch. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, duh Sammy.” The tone makes the other one laugh for the first time since you left. “What? Did you think I was sitting across the room nose in a book because I was calm and unbothered? I’m freaking out too!”

“Okay, okay, knowing I am not alone in this feels good, alright?” Sam was smiling now and Buddy was matching it, “You are right, it does.”

The conversation moved onto other things, still distracting themselves and each other. Thankfully the wait didn’t take much longer until the door unlocks and they hear you come in, calling out, “Honey’s I’m home.”

A shared look and they practically launched off the couch and came towards the front door. You are taking off your shoes, head down and they can’t quite tell how it went, both with nerves returning Buddy asks first, “How’d it go?”

You lifted her head up with a smile, “As good as it could have.”

Sam gripped Buddy’s shoulder, a question of, “So?”

“They accept me. Completely, understand that it is an important part of me that isn’t changing or going anywhere and that I am an adult, it’s my life and my choice to make.” You tell them and a collective sigh of relief is breathed. 

“Thank fucking God.” Buddy said and Sam echoed that as he didn’t waste any more time before he was crossing the room and scooping you into a hug, the other man hot on his heels to do the same, inserting himself into it, wrapping you both up. 

“Right? I was worried we’d have to dust off the old masks and take em out for a spin again.”

Buddy said much too softly and sweetly for something so brutal and violent. You were sure you’d feel Sam tense over that but he stays loose and relaxed, instead piling on, “Mmm, woulda been terrible to go through all that trouble, think of all the laundry we just saved ourselves.”

You laughed, curling closer with a happy sigh and a big smile, glad you had such wonderful boyfriends.

#Poly!Camping Boys x reader #BHF writing #Sam Wescott X reader #Buddy Swanson X reader #slasher x reader #I love this #Also oh my God is it ever self indulgent

[venusiangguk]

I would cry if you made a mini drabble or comment on how dilf Jk and OC are doing. Are they still together?

the art of wanting drabble: gardening and pool day with dilf jk and baby nari

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

>>genre: strangers to lovers / fwb / fluff

>>rating: PG

>>word count: 1.2k, drabble

>>warnings: not much, mentions of alcohol, implied smut, cutest baby ever

>>notes: just a lil update on the favorite not-so-couple couple and the apple of their eye, little nari <3

>>summary: nari plays in the dirt while jk gardens and you make a bet.

The blender was very fancy and had a lot of buttons, but alas, you made due and are now stepping out into the backyard, hands full of watermelon juice. Two with just a pinch of the rum you found in the built in wine cooler by the dishwasher, one with a spill proof lid.

It's your day off from the god forsaken grocery store, and the sun is beating hot outside, but the light breeze makes it bearable. The pool a little ways away gets more and more tempting as the heat sends waves to your bare arms and back. The bikini top you’re wearing basically useless as protection from the sun.

Good thing you’ve got a certain someone to sunscreen your back for you.

Jeongguk is shirtless, his sleeve on full display. His long hair is being held back by a baseball cap, and he’s got his gardening gloves on. You watch as he uses the back of his tattooed arm to wipe at some of the sweat dripping down the side of his face. He looks sunkissed and just edible.

You reign your thoughts in however when your eyes move next to him.

Little Nari is sat on a small blanket with a portable umbrella keeping her in a small patch of cool shade, her little toes dangling off the edge and digging into the small pile of soil that Jeongguk provided her to play in. He even put a few weeds and some of the flowers that were on their last few days of life into the mix. Nari digs one out with her pudgy little hands and squeals as she raises her hand for her dad to see.

Jeongguk, the ever doting father, takes in his baby and laughs when he sees that her overly large sun cap has fallen into her eyes. He adjusts it on her head, and you hear him give a playful gasp as you get closer.

“Oh so pretty, little flower,” he coos, “Is that for me?”

Nari snatches her hand away from him. “Nuuuuw, Da,” she shakes her head with so much force her whole little body jiggles, her round tummy on display in a tiny bikini of her own.

You smile to yourself and you take a seat with Nari on her blanket, stealing a bit of her shade. You hand Jeongguk his drink with a soft grin, and he smiles back at you, soft and sweet as he takes the glass.

“Oooh look what ___ brought for us,” he says, to Nari, “What do you say?”

Nari whips her head around to you like she didn’t notice you sit right next to her. She giggles, baby gurgles sounding in the backyard air. She claps her hands as she smiles at you her round doe-eyes squeezing shut in glee. That’s when she seems to remember the small blossom in her hand.

Her eyes go wide and her mouth parts in a small ‘o’ before she extends the flower to you.

“Buuu?”

You bend down to her level, and she tucks the flower into your hair as best she can with her baby motor skills and then wacks at her dad’s knee.

Jeongguk glances over at you as you grab a nearby watering can and use it to clean Nari’s hands before handing her her juice. She suckles on the sippy straw until she absolutely has to stop, gasping and taking deep breaths before getting right back to her sweet treat.

Her dad glances between her and you trying to figure out why his daughter tried to get his attention. His face falls and he gives a playfully annoyed expression.

“You know,” he starts, “Maybe Daddy wants a flower every once in a while.”

Nari is unbothered as she fists her sippy cup in one hand and the other goes right back into the dirt.

You giggle as you sip your drink and then lean back some, resting on your free hand. “You have the prettiest flower all to yourself already,” you say, nodding in Nari’s direction.

Jeongguk’s face softens, and he goes from looking at you to his little baby. He laughs quietly as he pinches her tummy. She giggles and some watermelon juice dribbles down her chin, unable to swallow before getting attacked by her daddy’s tickles.

Her hiccuping babbles and baby giggles are contagious, and you can’t help but join along. Nari puts up with her dad’s pestering for a good amount of time before she screeches and holds up a tiny dirt covered hand, as if saying ‘stop’.

“Nuw, Da,” she babbles. She’s getting closer and closer to talking as the days pass, even in the short months that you’ve been coming around, she’s already made progress.

Jeongguk’s eyes shine with laughter as he nods, a closed lipped smile holding in his own giggles. “Oh, okay, sorry,” he tells her, flicking his eyes to you before back to Nari, “Carry on, the weeds aren’t gonna pull themselves Miss Nari,” he gestures to her pile of dirt. Nari nods, a diligent little weed puller indeed.

“Hey,” you whisper after a few moments, the both of them back to work, “Gguk.”

He turns to you, a question on his face. You don’t respond right away, just smile at him and he gives in, leaning back and angling himself towards you. Nari sat between your bodies, in front of you.

He’s resting on his elbow, his upper half in the shade with you. He smiles up at you lazily. “What’s up?”

You glance at Nari making sure she’s distracted, and then you flip his cap so it’s backwards, before placing a small hand onto his hot, red face. You angle him towards you and it warms your heart at just how easily he goes with you and lets his eyes fall shut, already knowing what’s about to happen.

You kiss him softly, before deepening the kiss just a bit before pulling away. He tastes sweet like watermelon, slightly salty from the sweat on his upper lip.

He hums, eyes still closed a soft smile still on his mouth. “What was that for?”

You pat his cheek and flip his hat back around. “Just because,” you say quietly. Then you wrinkle your nose. “You’re so sweaty.”

He nods, unashamed. “Working hard.”

You glance at the tempting pool. “Why don’t we ever go in there?”

He hums. “Nari doesn’t like the water, and I don’t do anything without her.”

A little idea forms in your head. “I bet if I go in, she’ll go in.”

Jeongguk raises an eyebrow. “Wanna bet?”

You nod. “I win, we… you know,” you raise your eyebrows at him. He blushes a little, but a ghost of a smile dances on his lips. “You win, we still… you know.”

He gives you a knowing look, plucks his gardening gloves off before he uses the arm he’s not leaning on to reach over and adjust the flower Nari put in your hair, tucking it behind your ear. “Are you sure you can be quiet enough while we… you know?”

With an excited grin you nod and run to the outside pool shed to grab Nari’s floaties. That baby will be a little mermaid by the time the sun goes down.

~~~

aha!! a little drabble to update you guys on dilf jk, since he do be living in our heads rent free. so to answer the q: they are together but not together together. i have a longer one shot in my brain that includes more plot and actual smut, but idk when i'll get around to writing it so hopefully this will hold u guys over till then !! sry for the blue balls, but just so u know jk had to cover oc's mouth and he might've scolded her while they were... you know... "I thought I told you to be quiet?" :o ok byee

also i hope u like it :) if u did, pls do all the things: like, reblog, comment, share, send an ask~~ as always i love hearing ur thoughts and talking to u :*

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #dilf jungkook #jungkook fic #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #bts fic #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #btsgoldnet #heartsforbts #kwritersworldnet #bangtanuniversity #kdiarynet #btscreatorscorner #btsghostie #jungkook oneshot #bts jungkook #bts jk #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #taow drabble #tao jk

[hansolmates]

remote learning (m)

summary; working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two. pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; fluff, humor, slightly insecure mc, this is pure FILTH—use of a remote controlled vibrator, do not and i repeat DO NOT try foreplay during a zoom call in the event u get fired im not responsible, phone sex, jungkook’s a meanie in control, cum eating, doggy, and topping it off with some sweet missionary bc jk has purty eyes, unprotected (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) excessive use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 5.7k a/n; this fic manifested bc of work. and i!! am!! frustrated!! i think we all need a lil jk relief so here it goes! as always ty to @chillingtae​ / @eerieedits​ for this FANTASTIC fic banner, please go check vivi out if u have taste okok part 2: distance learning drabbles; 01

if u like this fic pls consider giving it a like and a share💕💕💕💕

“Tomorrow morning, same time at 9AM. Remember to have your reports alphabetized and itemized,” your supervisor says, but the only thing you can focus on is the abnormal amount of bonsai plants in his living room. 

“Alright now it’s time for the union to talk COVID protocol,” you frown when Mr. Kim moves ownership of the Zoom call to your union rep, who pulls up a Powerpoint. You feel your eyes burn at the sight: an itinerary containing over thirty-eight slides. 

“For fuck’s sake—” 

You so desperately want to turn off the camera and flop in your bed. Since working remotely you haven’t been operating in the most ideal of workspaces. You live in a one-room apartment with a communal kitchen downstairs, so you really only have four square meters to stretch your limbs around between breaks. You’ve pushed your bed aside and shoved an office chair between the bed and the wall, leaving you to squirm between ten centimeters of space. You have no desk because well, the little rectangle space is prioritized for your portable stove and meals. 

The meeting drones on for another hour, until your brain melts to liquid and your limbs feel like Jell-O. Furthering your anxiety as they talk about protocol that never ends up happening, delays that continue to pile up, and the anger that’s been bubbling between the higher ups and little goldfish employees like you. 

When you finally shut off the camera and fling your laptop under the bed, you still feel unsettled. Probably because your work life and home life have merged together, and it’s hard for you to separate work and pleasure. 

Speaking of pleasure. 

Your hand blindly reaches under your bed, looking for the pretty pink oval you purchased last week. Cleaned and ready to use, the little remote-controlled vibrator sits plainly in your palm. 

Needless to stay you’ve been in a bit of a dry spot these past few months. With a fear to go out and meet someone new, you’ve been left with yourself and your fantasies. That’s fine, but lately your old vibrator isn’t cutting it. It’s unfortunate, you think you’re messing up your libido by buying toy after toy, but you’re horny and lonely. 

Linking your phone’s app to the remote, you ignore the messages that have been beeping your feed since early morning. 

[11:21] Jeon: let’s do lunch! 

[11:23] Jeon: hehe i feel like i belong in mean girls. Do lunch💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️

[2:20] Jeon: u loozer. Come eat dinner with us upstairs @6

[2:24] Jeon: dropping off a snack for u 

Another element of feeling horny and lonely? Jeon Jungkook. 

You two shouldn’t have even met each other. You live off crumbs on the first floor while he and his roommates are livin’ it up on top in the penthouse. One day a few months ago he crashed into you while working out, having run up and down the whole flight of stairs at least three times before deciding to collapse on you between the second and first floor. 

Despite the black mask that hugged his sharp jawline, you had felt nothing but attractiveness ooze off of him. Under his hoodie was nothing but curved muscle. He smelled so soft and sweet despite the fact that he was damp with sweat. 

The rest is history. After that day he seemed to show up everywhere, jogging more prominently on your floor and doing exercises at your level’s gym. He says he likes you, likes your company. He’s wormed his way intermittently, whether he’s seeing you struggle with an armful of groceries or when he hears you screaming over an Among Us match (according to Jungkook, the walls are thinner on the bottom floors.) 

The idea of Jungkook doting on you doubly frustrates you. He seemingly appears as the perfect man, unaffected by the stresses of the world. Jungkook’s job lets him work from home anyway, and he definitely had enough room in the penthouse for his own office. He works out, probably has a girlfriend and enough friends for you to gradually phase out of this weird neighbor interest. 

So you ignore his seemingly harmless messages, focusing on getting the settings right on the vibrator. You feel your pussy jolt a little in excitement, watching the silver and pearl pink oval shake in your grasp. You smile a bit to yourself, immediately finding your iPad for your favorite videos and some pillows to support your back. 

Half an hour later however, that excitement soon goes sour. 

“Fuck,” you bite your lip, frustrated tears streaming down your face, “fuck fuck fuck!” 

This isn’t a set of explicatives out of pleasure, unfortunately. 

No matter what you do, you won’t cum. You can’t cum. Barely wet, hardly a drop glossing your folds. You don’t even want to bother getting out the lube at this point because you are so disappointed. 

The vibrator is going at the highest setting, one that your neighbors can probably hear if they were home at this time of the day. You cease to care at this point, because the job is undone because you haven’t come undone. 

You don’t know why this is happening. Maybe it’s because you’ve had the liberty to touch yourself in complete silence, now that your neighbors have been confined to their homes indefinitely. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since you’ve relied only on your touch, that your body is tired of the monotony and needs more.

You bang the heels of your feet against your flimsy mattress, feeling whiny and utterly dissatisfied. Pulling the vibrator from your clit, you glare at the infuriating toy.

“You’re supposed to be helping me out of my dry spell,” you chastise, throwing the toy across the bed, sliding onto the carpet, “I get you’re not Jeon’s dick, but you gotta help a sister out.” 

With a sigh, you fall into a bout of exhaustion. Not from a round of orgasms, but from the week’s stress and no way to let it out. 

You wake up bleary and disoriented, practically melding through the mattress. The sky is pink and blue, washed in a sea of corals and purples. It comes from the incessant banging. 

“Stop it,” you whine more to yourself than whoever dares to disturb your sleep, pulling up your panties and a pair of navy dolphin-trim shorts. “Whoever you are I’m comin’ so stop!” 

Swinging the door open in two strides you’re met with a chipper Jeon Jungkook; looking all cute and sweet in his big hoodie and smelling like a rosebud. 

“It’s 6:30,” he narrows his eyes playfully at you, “dinner’s in the oven.” 

“You left your oven on,” you deadpan, turning around to grimace at the mess that’s your one-room apartment. 

“Yes, so we have exactly ten minutes before my kitchen explodes in flames,” Jungkook chirps, closing the door behind you. 

You don’t even bother to tell him to excuse the mess, ignore the pile of bras hanging on your vanity and the unpacked groceries that sit at the edge of your mini-fridge. It’s far too late to salvage your dignity and Jungkook’s too damn polite to call you out on your state of slob. Although, as you pull out a bottle of wine tucked in the back of your fridge you blurt, “I can hear your fingers tingling to clean up my mess.” 

When you turn around Jungkook stuffs his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie, supposedly to stop himself from cleaning up. With a pout he says, “Can’t help it, Jimin says I’m currently manifesting a strong display of Virgo energy this month. Whatever that means.” 

Jabbing your feet in a pair of slides you follow Jungkook out the door. The hallways are quiet and barren, yet the silence isn’t suffocating as you two pile into the elevator. Jungkook opens the keypad underneath the regular boring buttons, revealing a sleek little set of light-up buttons that have the code to the penthouse. Faaaannnnccy. 

“Tryna look?” he jokes, cupping his hands to block your vision. 

You scoff, “I’m sure it’s something easy like 0000.” 

“You’re wrong. It’s 1234,” he replies cheekily. 

The door dings open and you’re met with yet another door. Jungkook presses his thumb to the biometric scanner, and a pleasant ringer tings in response. 

The penthouse smells like a mix of tonight’s dinner, savory, combined with a cinnamon apple candle. Jungkook is a fan of scented candles, ever since he got a whiff of your lavender vanilla burner. 

“Where’s Taehyung?” you ask, more out of your own anxiousness than anything. Taehyung’s  your buffer, the hyper roommate being someone to distract you from Jungkook’s incessant aura. 

“Dunno,” he shrugs, flicking on the oven light to peer inside. You see the telltale signs of a mean lasagna, the shredded cheese on top crisping to a delicious-looking golden brown, “anyway, you’re my friend first.” 

As grotesque as it sounds, Jungkook always finds his way to worm his way under your skin and find homage there. “Possessive much?” you quirk a brow, folding your arms over your chest even though there’s nothing to hide. 

“What can I say,” Jungkook’s legs stretch out as he squats down to your level, “I really fell for you.” 

“Gross,” you try to convince yourself, ignoring the thudding in your chest, “you technically fell on me, weirdo.” 

Dinner is a quick affair. He cuts slices of lasagna and brings it to the couch, where you’re pouring glasses of wine in crystal glasses. They’re so clean and shiny you can see your reflection in the gold liquid. You grimace at the bottle, normally this would be poured in a mug or your sippy cup, tonight your liquid’s getting a high-end pour. 

You two pull up an old anime to fill up the room, but most of it is spent in playful banter. Jungkook prattles on about his day, showing you all the cool updates he’s achieved during work. An app developer. A very on-brand, lucrative job for him. You love your job but it isn’t nearly as exciting as Jungkook’s, so you just let yourself be supportive and ask questions when needed. 

When the subject of you comes up, you shake your head and stuff your face with another cut of al dente pasta.

“Not interestin’ Jeon,” you mumble, groaning at how delicious his cooking is. What can’t he do? “Is this oregano? Is the secret ingredient toasted oregano—” 

“You’re deflecting.” 

Your shoulders slump, “I’m not very interesting, I tell you everything I do during the week and nothing has changed since March.” 

“Oh, not everything,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. You furrow your brows as his hands stuff themselves in his hoodie pocket. Is he upset you won’t tell him about your work stress? “And you’re very interesting, I’ll have you know.” 

“Yeah?” a small smile tugs on your lips. You sink further into his cottonball of a couch, feeling utterly soft and meldable at his words.

“Very,” Jungkook gets up from the couch, looking down at you, “want something sweet?” 

The prospect of dessert has you excited. Jungkook really is the perfect man, so kind and knows exactly when you’re craving something for your sweet tooth. You move to get up, only for you to sink further between the two large cushions of the loveseat. “Help me, ’m stuck,” you pout.

Jungkook giggles, and holds out his palm, “Hand,” he says simply.

You immediately reach for his larger palm, and you gasp when you feel something cold and soft touch your palm. As if you’ve been burned, you tug your hand back. But Jungkook’s hand is massive, the large ink-painted palm curling around your own, and it’s almost painful the way he clutches your hand so fiercely. 

When he’s sure you’re not going to drop it, he releases your hand. 

Nestled in your palm, is the new vibrator you left on the carpet this afternoon.

“Jeon,” you laugh tonelessly, hating the way Jungkook’s neutral expression mocks you, “you found my USB? Thanks, I know—” 

“Know that you’re having a hard time coming?” Carefully extracting your plate from your lap, he places it on the coffee table before Jungkook cages you between the couch. You shrink further into the plush seat, “I tried being a good neighbor, but you didn’t answer my texts. I heard you when I tried dropping off some snacks before dinner. Didn’t know you were into toys.” 

“Oh, c’mon Jeon. It’s 2020 and we’re confined,” well, in this scenario you’re confined, “everyone has a sex toy.” 

“Hm, I don’t have one,” Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, pretending to be deep in thought, “so, can you be my toy?” 

Fuck. 

It’s then that you feel the tell-tale signs of arousal. Your eyes widen, innocently surprised at the fact that Jeon Jungkook contained so much power in so few words. You snap your legs shut immediately, sealing any possibility of you dripping down your panties. 

“I heard how disappointed you were, doll,” his arms have no problems as he bends down so he’s eye-level with your crotch, “it was pathetic, really. You couldn’t even cum on your own? You need someone to help you?” 

“N-no,” you cross your arms defensively, frowning, “you–you’re being mean, Jeon.”

“And what, you’re gonna cry about it?” Jungkook smirks, now sitting on his knees. His hands run over the velvety fabric of the couch, making a beeline for your thighs. Gooseflesh rises to the surface, and he immediately presses down to iron out the little bumps that travel across your skin, “I do wanna make you cry, but not because you can’t cum. You’ll cry because of how good I’m gonna make you feel.” 

You gape, clutching the vibrator in your hand. 

A little bit of your sweet, cute Jungkook resurfaces, softening when he notices your lack of response, “If you’ll let me, of course.” 

You finally drag the words from your throat, “I-it’s been a long time since I’ve… been with someone.” 

He tilts his head, “Same here. I just figured we could break that spell together.” 

What are you going to say? No? A dishonor to your sexuality, that would be. Jungkook’s offering himself up on a silver platter, and even though you do wish it was a little more you’ll take the sex. 

You nod, forgetting to speak again. Jungkook chuckles. 

“I want to hear you say it, doll.” 

Doll. Like you’re his little fucktoy, malleable and bendable to all his whims. Fuck, why is that so hot to you? “Yes, I want to have sex with you,” you declare, your voice sounding more breathy than confident, “a-and, you can be mean. If you want.” 

His thumbs press little light indents in your skin, over and over as if fascinated by the way your skin is so soft and gummy in his grip. “Okay,” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to pull out his phone, jabbing a few things that you don’t see, “let’s do a little test drive, then.” 

In seconds, the little egg vibrates in your touch. He puts it on the lowest setting, a soft buzz echoing in the large living room, then at a bruising pace that forces you to curl your fingers around it otherwise it’d fall. Your eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s, who’s focusing entirely on the way the pink and silver egg moves, dilated in interest. 

“Fuck, and you thought this thing was broken?” he asks, taking it out of your palm and turning off the app. 

“Maybe I’m the broken one,” you admit softly, wringing your shirt. 

Silence seeps. Jungkook looks at you, brows furrowed as if he’s annoyed. “Don’t ever say that,” when you don’t respond, he grabs your chin, and you gasp when he forces you to look at him, “you’re not broken, doll. Everyone’s body is different, and we’re going to discover yours together. Got it?” 

“Y-yes,” you reply immediately, mesmerized by his seriousness. 

“Good,” he slaps the vibrator back in your palm, “and in case you’re wondering, this goes inside.” 

“I know how it works,” you scowl, “but won’t you show me, just in case?” 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Jungkook gets up for good, piling the dishes in his arms and walking to the sink. You immediately miss his warmth, “but I think patience is a virtue. I have a developer meeting with some clients in America a little bit, actually. So just wait for my call, yeah?” 

You frown, looking down at the vibrator in your hands. How much longer would you have to wait? 

It happens at exactly three in the afternoon the next day, at the start of your staff meeting. You’re so tired of the same information being thrown back and forth, coupled with Brian and Jae having to fight over some mundane subject in the itinerary that no one cares about. For goodness sake, it’s Friday! What else would you possibly need to be meeting about? 

You’re wearing a button-down dress shirt on top, no pants on the bottom. Your bare feet slap against the hardwood floor, antsy. It’s been a long day at work and your back hurts, you’re half tempted to dip out of this meeting and hope no one notices. 

Your phone buzzes on your bed, and you blanch. 

[3:01] Jeon: thanks for waiting, doll. It’s time 

[3:01] Jeon: put it in

Shamelessly, your vibrator sits next to your phone, cleaned and ready to go. 

[3:02] Jeon: need help? Answer my call

Making sure that your Zoom call is muted, you quickly answer the incoming phone call. Jungkook and you say nothing at first, waiting. The phone just ticks with the amount of time passing, one minute, two minutes, and so on. 

Mr. Kim drones unknowingly, “So when we do return to live instruction, expect a strict process when returning. PPE must be enforced so our response team will—” 

“How wet were you last night when you went home?” Jungkook asks languidly, speaking over your boss’ voice. 

Your eyes widen, flickering back and forth between the phone and the camera displaying Mr. Kim’s boring speech. 

“Doll, are you hard of hearing?” 

“N-no,” your lips barely move, eyes glued to the camera and plastering an expressionless face, “I heard you.” 

“Then give me an answer,” he says patiently, “how wet were you?” 

“Very wet.”

“Little more detail.” 

“Soaking wet,” you flush, thankful that your work laptop can only stream in 360p. “I haven’t gotten that wet in such—such a long time. My pussy was practically clinging to my underwear when I washed up that night.” 

A heady, heavy groan resonates through your phone. You feel that voice straight into your panties, jolting the nerves awake. 

“Fuck, you have a way with words, don’t you?” Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, “c’mon, touch yourself for me. Swirl your fingers around your clit, slowly.” 

It takes a second for you to position yourself, spreading your legs in a way that your coworkers don’t question why you’re moving so much. A quick scan over all the tired faces says that you’re okay. Shyly, you press your fingers against your clit, doing as he says. 

“Oh,” you say more to yourself than him, feeling the wetness already coating your fingers. This is earlier than usual. 

“What?” 

“I’m already wet,” you say, amazed, “I haven’t gotten wet this quickly in a long time.” 

He scoffs, “If you’re so wet now, shove it in.” 

You frown. You did tell him to be mean. But the idea of him telling you what to do, giving you all the porn-worthy experiences to accomplish has you relenting. Discreetly grabbing the egg from the bed, you bring it down to your panties. Swirling the cold metal around your clit, you coat it in your juices. 

It’s still a little too early to be putting anything in, but you can take it. Slowly relaxing, you slip the little egg in your pussy, wiggling it a little to make sure it’s secure. It’s a strange sort of pressure, and it pokes against your clit from the inside, but you enjoy the stretch. 

“It’s in,” you reply softly. 

“Good.” 

You wait. You listen to Jae make yet another speech about the importance of masks and gloves, and then Brian has to interject and say that gloves are literally useless because they spread germs around no matter what. Even though everyone else is muted, you can practically feel the misery seeping through the screen. For a second you almost forget about Jungkook on the line. Why isn’t Mr. Kim stopping them? This is the thin line stopping you from the weekend, unbelievable! 

“Eep!” you jolt in your cheap seat, the egg buzzing in your pussy. Your hands fly out, gripping the edges of your computer. 

It hits different when Jungkook is in control. Knowing that with a flick of his thumb he can have you careening, whining for more or less depending on how hard he wants you go. Your folds hug the egg, nestling it a fleshy grip as it brushes against your clit the more you squirm. 

“You look so pretty, trying so hard to hold in your moans,” Jungkook says wondrously from the other line. 

“W-what?” you frown, “you can see me?” 

And immediately, you go to your trackpad to fish between the hundred-and-one employees also in this call. At the very end, you see a very simple name with no mic or camera: Jeon JK. He’s here. 

“Worked in IT, doll. Know a thing or two,” he says, “now, tell me. What are you thinking about right now?” 

“Y-you,” you mumble shyly. 

“So,” Mr. Kim finally ends that part of the meeting, thank goodness, “what’s everyone’s plans this weekend? I’m going apple picking with a couple of my friends from college. Hoseok is a bright bean who loves to take long walks—”

What the hell. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat, hyperaware that Jungkook’s watching your every move. You make glossy, stubborn eyes at the camera, trying not to move when he jacks up the vibrator to a higher setting. 

Jae’s of course the next employee to unmute his microphone, “Well, me and the bae are going house hunting…” 

“Fuck!” you cry, moving the computer to the left so you can pretend you’re picking up something. But in fact you're leaning your head against your mattress, frustrated. “I don’t fucking care about your weekend plans, Jae! Shut the fuck up! You wanna know my weekend plans?” Jungkook’s laughing at you from the other line, but it only spurs you on, “my plans are fucking my super hot neighbor! He’s a hundred times more interesting than you and he’s going to make me come a hundred times this weekend—oh fuck!” 

Your fingers latch onto your panties, drawing random squiggles and letters between the fabric. You’re damp, soaked to the core. You need some sort of friction, a reprieve from this hellish week.

“You flatter me, doll,” Jungkook is definitely grinning through the phone, you can practically hear his shit-eating grin, “I think you deserve a reward. As soon as you put the camera back on your pretty face.” 

Quickly, you sit up to put the camera on you again. Once again, the employees are in a daze, listening to whatever the next person gabs about their weekend. Even though you can’t really see it, you’re sure Jungkook has a 1080p camera upstairs that shows off your blotchy face. You moan a little bit, lips closed as the egg buzzes against your pussy lips. 

“You’re so cute, doll,” Jungkook praises, “you look so professional, holding it in. What could I do to make you unravel? Hm, what if you imagined the taste of my cock on your lips? Fuck, I’d love to slap your cute little face with my cock, baby doll–”

“y/n?” Mr. Kim calls your name, and you freeze, “what about you? Any plans this weekend?” 

Jungkook doesn’t sound angry that your boss has inadvertently cut him off. “Answer him, doll. Be a good little employee.” 

Like a zombie, you move towards the unmute button. “I–I uh,” you shake your head, trying to formulate a coherent response, “I’m going on a date this weekend.” 

Jungkook jacks up the vibrator to high, and your legs are shaking. 

“Awh, a date!” Mr. Park unmutes himself, practically shoving the camera in his face, “how much do you like the lucky lad or lady?” 

“I like him uh—ah—” you pretend to think, covering a hand over your mouth to hide the fact that you feel your orgasm fast approaching, “I like him a lot!” you finally blurt, “I’m, uh, really excited to see him.” 

“Best of luck to you,” Mr. Kim says brightly, “so Jimin, any news on those investors you had dinner with this weekend? I heard a lot of positive things…”

You immediately mute your mic, and pretend to lag as you fumble around with the camera. Shoving the laptop to the side once more you groan into your sheets, “Fuck—fuck yes—” you moan, shaking your head as you dip your fingers into your panties. The vibrator still continues at its bruising pace, spurring you to a high you haven’t peaked to in months.

“Good job,” Jungkook says simply, “could barely notice that you have a little helper fiddling around your dripping pussy.”

“J-Jeon,” you cry, “I’m, ’m gonna cum.” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook eggs you on, “you’re gonna cum around that cute little vibrator? Gonna soak it in your juices?” 

“W-wish it was your cock I was soaking,” you whisper truthfully, letting your orgasm take you at the thought. Your folds flutter around the vibrator, bringing you to a level of sensitivity you’ve only dreamt of, “Ah, yes, Jeon. It feels s-so good!” 

“Yes baby,” Jungkook groans through the line, “feels good, huh?” 

Mr. Kim interrupts for the last time, “And with that, I think our meeting is adjourned. Have a wonderful weekend! Stay safe and—” 

You slam the laptop shut, grabbing your phone and keys. “I’m going up,” you mutter impatiently, already jabbing your feet in a pair of slippers and locking the door to your apartment behind you. 

“I’m waiting,” he replies, eagerness trimming his voice. 

“Password?” you ask quickly, jabbing the elevator door shut once you step inside. Thank goodness you’re alone, you think as you pull your dress shirt further down your ass. 

“Did you forget already?” he teases, “I told you, it’s 1234.” 

Thankfully, the doors zip you up straight to the penthouse. The connection is always a little spotty in elevators, and you sigh longingly when you feel the buzz jolt and leave it’s momentum, quickly losing its rhythm between your dripping folds. Once you get to the top and the elevator doors open the second door immediately swings open, revealing a soft but aroused-looking Jungkook. He looks fresh from the shower, absolutely radiant and delicious looking. 

You don’t hesitate to run up to him, and Jungkook immediately cups his face in your hands, pressing his lips to yours. 

You’re practically on your tippy-toes, and you squeak against his lips when he hooks his arms around your shoulders, immediately lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his trim waist, not wanting to stop kissing him. He’s like the sweetest ambrosia, a taste you can’t get enough of. 

The connection to your vibrator has resumed, and you can’t help but grind helplessly under Jungkook’s clothed abs as he carries the both of you to his bedroom.

“N-need you to fuck me,” you bury your head in the crook of his neck, pressing quick kisses to his jawline, “I want you s-so badly.” 

“Hello to you too,” he husks, shutting the bedroom door with his foot. 

Jungkook drops you unceremoniously, and your limbs splay out on the fresh bedsheets of his feather-soft mattress.

“You look gorgeous like this, doll.” he sighs longingly, a hand going under your buttondown to press against your soaked panties. His hand lingers on the way your pussy moves in tandem with the vibrator. 

“J-Jeon please I can’t take it—” 

“Stop calling me that,” he snaps, hands leaving your skin.

You whine at the loss of contact, “Jeon, no. Jungkook. Kook, my Kook. Please, I need you.” 

That gets him going. His pretty chocolate brown eyes zero in on you, and he immediately shucks off his shirt and sweatpants, “How much do you need me?” he asks, pulling out his phone and pressing some buttons, “how much do you need your Kook?” 

The vibrator stops. You cry out in frustration, unsure if it’s because it’s off or because Jungkook’s taking too damn long. “I need you so much, Kook,” you warble with a pout, moving to undo the top buttons of your dress shirt to reveal your cleavage, “honey, you can have me all you want later today. I want you to slap my face with your dick, edge me until I cry, anything. I’m all yours, I’m your little doll. But please for now, I need to feel you inside me.” 

“Say no more,” his lips latch onto your neck, and you sigh at the skin-to-skin contact. His hand fiddles under your shirt, clutching a breast and slapping it so hard it bounces back and forth, “fuck, you’re so pretty.” 

His hand moves to your plain cotton panties, immediately shucking them off, “doll, you really are dripping,” he’s impressed, surprised when he has to untack the fabric from your glossy legs. He hangs the panties on his wooden headboard, a little ornament for him to jack off to later. 

His fingers brush over your folds, wasting no time to slip the vibrator out. He holds it between your faces, forcing you to stare at the pearly substance that coats the entirety of the egg. “Mm, tasty tasty,” he cooes, pink tongue darting out to lick a long strip across the oval. 

You tug him closer, pressing his lips to yours. He tastes a mixture of his own saliva and your arousal, and you grind helplessly against him. You feel how big his cock is, rock-hard and trying very diligently not to bust. He must have a crazy amount of control, and it drives you nuts. 

“Kook,” you frown, bumping your crotch with his.

“Impatient, good thing I am too,” he shucks off his boxers while you unbutton the rest of your shirt, “knees and hands, doll.” 

You don’t care how or what way he’ll take you. Fuck, he could bend you into an Auntie Anne’s pretzel and you’d comply. 

Arching your back so your ass is in the air, you wiggle around, hoping he’ll take the bait. That’s when you sigh, feeling the tip of his dick brush against your wetness.

“Soaking my cock already, baby,” he says, “you’re so good to me.” 

And finally, finally, he slips in. You don’t even care that it stretches you a little too far and too long, it’s been too damn long since you’ve had decent dick and Jungkooks far more than decent. 

He goes at a quick pace, finally showing how impatient he’s been all this time. Your moans and groans fill the room, a symphony of pleasure and pain as he stretches your walls to the brim. You hold a pillow to your chest, feeling woozy at the way his fat cock stretches you out. 

“F-fuck yeah,” the pace is hard, you practically feel it in your belly, and you love it. “You feel so fucking tight, baby,” he’s all up in your ear, kissing the lobe briefly, “I love the way you suck my cock back in.” 

“Kook,” you press your ass back, “harder, please. I’m your little doll, right? Y-you can fuck me however you want, as hard as you want! Please, ah—! Use me!” 

You cry out when he slips from your folds, immediately flipping you on your back. He wastes no time to wet his dick, lifting one leg over his shoulder to have you deeper. This position is far more intimate, and your noses are practically touching as he thrusts into you. 

You can’t believe you’re in bed with Jeon Jungkook. This must be a dream, a really great, really long wet dream. You crumble in his grip, and you lift a shaky hand to run through his thick black strands. 

“Why’d you make me wait so long?” you cry, staring right into his glittering eyes, “why couldn’t you come for me after your call last night?” 

“Why’d I make you wait?” he grits, crushing the flesh between your hip bones so he can have more leverage to pound into you, “why did you make me wait? Since March, I’ve wanted you. I told you I liked you, told you I fell for you.” 

“T-thought it was a joke,” you warble pathetically, breasts bouncing at his relentless rhythm.

“You think th-this is a joke?” for further emphasis, he glides slower, making you feel just how large and thick he is against your folds, “I want you, doll. Y-yeah, fu-fuck. Want to feed you every day, feed you lasagna, feed you with my cum, make you happy.” 

“I—I want that too, Kook,” you’re a pile of pink mush, and you feel your eyes prick from the overwhelming emotions that have washed over both of you. “Sh-shit, Kook. I think, I think I’m gon’ cum again.” 

“Good, you first,” his hand plays figure 8s with your precious pearl, seeping with arousal and coating his cock in delicious lubrication. 

It doesn’t take long for you to cum. You’re holding him as tight as you can, nails digging into his shoulders as you clench around his cock. Jungkook cums shortly after, and you keen at the sensitivity when his hot cum coats your walls. “Baby doll,” he exhales, thrusting lazily. The both of you feel your combined arousal drip between the two of you, onto your skin and onto his sheets, “y-you’re amazing.” 

His softened cock slips out of you, and his hands immediately reach over to swirl around the heady cream over your engorged pussy. You moan when he brings his fingers to your lips, “Open, doll.” 

It tastes salty yet sweet, and you suckle around his finger with a cute little pop. Jungkook grins brightly, feeling like he won the lottery. 

“Are my walls that thin?” you pout, pressing closer to him when he pulls the blankets to your chest. 

“Very,” Jungkook nods with a chuckle, tucking the two of you in, “now get some rest, doll. You presented a lot of offers to me earlier, and I intend to go through with them.” 

You smile into his chest, melty and feeling utterly sated. 

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #goldenclosetnet #bts smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook humor #bts fic #jungkook fic

[xmint-conditionx]

tongue tied | myg

pairing: yoongi x reader, f2l

w/c: 3.5k

summary: you've been best friends with yoongi for almost a decade, and you're hopelessly in love with him. he's the most important person in your life, and you don't want to mess that up, so you can never be anything more... right?

written as a response to a request from the old blog -- the requestor was @yoongi--enthusiast; thanks again for your request, i loved doing it!!! "I had an idea... something based off of the song “tongue tied” with yoongi. I feel like it would be super soft with soft smut... I just think it would be nice to read so can you please wright it 🥺👉👈"

tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, outdoor sex, overall a little angsty but super cute too

a/n: i did not know that there was a song called tongue tied by marshmello before i wrote this so... i hope the person who requested this didn’t mean that song because I wrote this drabble over the grouplove song lmaooo but anyway, here goes! thanks luv, enjoy! also reposted from the old blog!!

Yoongi’s laugh is so beautiful. It’s rare, so when you see it, you soak up everything you can about it. The way his eyes crinkle up into crescent moons, the way his lips curl back putting his gummy smile on bright display. You can swear you see his eyes sparkle.

You are in love with him. You are in love with your best friend.

He makes loving him such an easy thing to do; bringing you into his inner world, showing you the sweet and warm center he conceals from everyone else. The way he looks at you, the way he says your name, the way he pouts when he wants a back scratch, all of those little things that make him who he is only deepen your infatuation with him.

You’re with him again this Friday night, making the drive to Bom’s house. It’s been a long week for the both of you; he’s been wrapped up in producing a track and you’ve been nose deep in college textbooks. His track is completed, and your exams are over. It’s safe to say that you both could use a good break.

It’s the end of the spring semester and the weather is going to be gorgeous tonight. The racing summer breeze coming through the open car windows is exhilarating. The sun is setting, and the warm evening light on Yoongi’s dewy skin makes him appear absolutely radiant as he navigates the highway.

You’re just listening to fun little summer jams as you speed off toward the city’s suburbs. Ones with funky little basslines that are easy to groove and sing along to. Ones that make you shout and laugh into the rushing wind. Ones that make you drink in the moment you’re having with Yoongi; ones that make you soak up all of his joy.

And when he steals a sly look your way, one hand still on the top of the steering wheel, you can swear your heart stops.

You’ve loved him as long as you can remember really knowing him. Since you were both 12, bonding over games of tag and basketball and the spilling of secrets to each other. You’d sit beneath the big tree in his backyard and share the snacks you’d bought at the corner store. He’d always let you have the last chocolate.

The only secret you’ve ever kept from Yoongi is the matter of your infatuation, and you are pretty resolute in keeping it that way.

He is the single most important person in your life. He had been there with you through it all; when your parents split up at 13, when your dad got you your first car at 15, when your long time boyfriend cheated on you at 16, when your dream college denied you at 17, when you got a full ride scholarship to a smaller university outside of the city right after that, when you were drugged at a house party at 20, when you were diagnosed with depression at 21, and when you were accepted into your masters program at 22.

You needed him, and because of that, you could never tell him.

You pull into the gates that surround Bom’s neighborhood. Her parents are pretty wealthy, so they live on a golf course. As you pull up into the driveway, you see some other students milling about, catching Frisbee. There’s Eunha, Ireum, Ji-Ah, and Miyeun that you recognize from some of your classes, but there are a few more that you’ve never met.

After a few rounds of drinks and a few lost games of flip cup, you all head outside to the back patio with all of your schoolwork from the year. Bom turns on the bluetooth speaker and sets it on the railing. You take in the night air and gaze up at the sky, wishing there was a shooting star to wish upon.

“Alright, everyone,” Bom begins, “essays and lab reports first, then tests, then miscellaneous homework.” Yoongi helps you dig through your stack to fish out the cursed papers. You all toss the stapled packages into the fire pit, one by one, each hitting with a soft thud. Once everyone has thrown their woes into the pit, Bom tops it with actual firewood and unceremoniously sets the whole lot of it on fire. You gaze into the center of the flame, watching your entire year catch fire. All the hours you spent doing that research project, all the disappointment when your group members wouldn’t follow through. Gone, like it never existed.

Yoongi’s holding your hand in his, and he’s busy drawing little circles with his thumb on your palm. Your head rests soundly on his shoulder, and you sigh into him, comfortable in where you are. The whole group piles in more papers, as you lament about the shitty professors and the shitty group projects and the shitty caf’ food and the shitty grades. Yoongi turns into you and nuzzles gently on your forehead. You feel his soft lips graze your temple, breath warm on your skin, tingles rising through your body, and you’re right where you want to be. Under the moon’s gaze with the person you love.

Before long, the breeze sends a chill through you that even the fire won’t remedy. Yoongi feels your shiver and unceremoniously removes his hoodie and puts it on over you, pulling up the hood and kissing your forehead. You always love when you wear his jackets; they surround you in his warmth, his smell. A smile plays across your lips until you notice Yoongi’s goosebumps.

“Hey,” you pout, “I don't wanna wear this if you’re gonna be cold.”

“I don’t wanna wear it if you’re gonna be cold,” he snaps back, smiling.

“Here,” you say, standing up from your deck chair. You take the step to get you to Yoongi’s chair, and sit in his lap. “This way we can both be warm, yeah?”

It takes him a second, but he wraps his arms firmly around you again, mumbling a “yeah, that’s fine” when you glance at him over your shoulder.

Your attention is called back to the group with Bom asks if you’re going to the Summer Romance Festival by the river next weekend. She’s been pushing you to get yourself out there more. The last time you were in a real relationship was high school, after all.

“I’d love to go; I hear they have the most beautiful fireworks display,” you start, “but I don’t think I will this year.”

“Well,” Bom says, “Why not?!”

“Because I don’t have a date, Bom!” you say, covering your face in the sweater paws you’ve made from Yoongi’s hoodie. “I don’t think I could find one in enough time.”

“Ya, just get Yoongi to go with you! You already do everything together anyway,” Eunha quips.

You notice that the steady rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest has stopped.

“Hey, you know we’re just friends, right Yoongi?” you look to him for backup.

The man nods, looking down and to the left.

“Okay,” Ireum speaks up, “In that case, do you want to go with me?”

“Wait, what?” you say.

“Do you want to go to the Summer Romance Festival with me? As a date?”

Yoongi tenses beneath you.

“Oh, I don’t know…” you breathe, “Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent. We can even get dinner before we go. Not too much, though. I’ll want to get us a treat from one of the dessert stalls.” Ireum says with a soft smile.

“Yeah,” you say, smiling back at him, “Okay. We’ll go together.”

Yoongi stirs beneath you. “Hey, can you get off of me?”

“What, why?” you pout.

“I said get off.”

“Yoongi, wh--”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish before he abruptly stands up, forcing you to catch yourself. When you look back at him, he’s walking toward the French doors that lead back into the house.

“Ya! What was that about?”

He keeps walking. You storm after him and slam the door, trapping you both inside.

“Yoongi, I’m talking to you! What’s your fucking problem?”

He whirs around.

“Oh, I have a problem?”

“Well, it sure seems like it.” you spit back, hands on your hips.

“Why don’t you go talk about it with your date, huh?” he says, gesturing out the window to Ireum. “Don’t you have some details to work out? He gonna pick you up? You gonna let him hold your hand? On your nice little extra special romantic date? I guess I’ll just fuck right off and leave you two alone, yeah? That’s what you want, cause we’re just friends and all.”

“Yoongi, we… are friends! You’re my best friend!”

“Did you ever for a second think that I could want more?”

“What?!”

“I fucking love you, Y/N! Isn’t it obvious?! I’ve loved you since the 7th grade. You remember when we played spin the bottle at Ha-joon’s house? Do you remember when you kissed me?”

“Yoongi…”

“No, let me finish. Do you remember the frat party we crashed junior year? Remember when we got up onto the roof and made out until we fell asleep? And then you weren't there when I woke up so I walked back to my dorm and then we just pretended it never happened? What the fuck was that, Y/N?!”

You reach for his arm, but he backs up, flinching away from you.

“I am so in love with you it hurts!”

“Yoongi.”

“But I guess if that guy can make you happy, then whatever,” he sighs.

“Yoongi.”

“Go on your little date and have fun and I’ll just go write some more goddamn songs about you--”

“Yoongi!”

He stills, pain flashing through his eyes.

“Yoongi,” you say quietly, easing toward him, “I had no idea. I left the roof to go inside and get you some water. When I came back, you were gone. You had been drinking a lot that night… and I felt really bad because… I thought I had taken advantage of you… Ever since I first kissed you at Ha-joon’s house, I wanted to do it again. And again. And, you looked so good that night and up on the roof when you were laughing about the quarterback I just… I couldn't hold myself back anymore. I thought surely you didn’t want to actually be kissing me.”

“Why the fuck would I have kissed you back, then?”

“You were drunk, and I--” you’re cut off when he grabs your wrist.“I have wanted to kiss you every time I’ve seen you since you first kissed me,” he says, glancing down at your lips. ”I want to kiss you right now.”

You take no time in closing the distance between the two of you, your lips crashing desperately. You’ve tasted his kiss before, but this time feels different. His hands are winding through your hair, pulling you deeper into his kiss. You moan against his mouth, and he responds with his tongue teasing your lips, asking for entry. You grant it, and he explores. One of his hands holds your jaw, the other still intertwined with your hair. His tongue runs along your bottom lip before he sucks it in, drawing out a small whimper from you. Taking his hand from your jaw, he runs it down your neck and décolleté and then down over your stomach and latches it on your hip, sinking his fingers into your skin. He gives your hair a small tug, just enough to break the kiss and expose your neck. He breaks off and trails kisses up your jawline and then onto your neck, speaking in between kisses.

“You have… no idea how… much I’ve… wanted to tell… you everything,” he breathes onto your neck, and you feel a heat pooling in your panties.

“Please, Yoongi…” you say as you begin to run one hand under his shirt. He stops kissing and looks up at you with the softest expression.

“What is it?” he asks as he grabs both of your hands in his, bringing one of them up to his mouth to sprinkle kisses along your fingers.

“You…” you begin and sigh, “you have no idea how much I want you.”

He stills.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to, I’m sorry, I just…” he trails off, eyes getting lost in the way his jacket is draped on your figure.

Him eyeing you up doesn’t make it any better.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” you say, eyes pleading up at him. “I’m tired of waiting.”

After a beat, he sighs.

“Neither of us are waiting another minute,” he says, landing a quick peck on your lips and going across the room to the couch, grabbing the throw blanket that rests on the arm.

“Come on, I have an idea,” he says, grabbing your arm and leading you out of the front door, across the street, through someone’s back yard until you reach the top of a hill on the side of a fairway. You watch as he scans the area, holding the blanket tight. His gaze lingers on two hills near the green of whatever hole this is, where there are a few more trees and hills to block you from the sightline of those second story windows. He looks at you, eyes asking the question. You smile and nod, and that’s all he needs.

He tugs your hand and you both go running down the fairway, laughing along the way. Once you reach your spot, he quickly puts down the blanket and lays on it. You’re still standing at his feet, hands fiddling with the ends of the jacket sleeves.

He smiles up at you and holds his arms up in your direction and says, “come here, beautiful,” while doing little grabby hands.

You slowly walk up to where he’s laying and sit on top of his hips, feeling how hard he already is. His hand rests on your hip underneath the fabric of his jacket, the other holding the side of your face.

“Let me see you,” he says with a tinge of whine in his voice, and that gives you an idea.

You reach under the still zipped jacket and fiddle around. Yoongi looks up at you befuddled, the corners of his lips turning down slightly as he tries to figure out what’s going on. When your hands emerge, one is holding your strapless bra and the other is holding the halter top you had been wearing. You can’t believe you managed to unzip the back by yourself.

You throw the garments to the side, and watch as understanding hits his face. His eyes glaze over and he licks his lips, clearly shaken up by your little trick.

He carefully dips his fingers below the waistband of your shorts and eases them down. You put your weight on him and give him a few kisses as he continues to move them down your legs. Once they too have been tossed to the side, you sit back up, lips red and swollen from the kiss.

He gently reaches up to the zipper of the jacket and begins to slowly pull it down, letting the cool night air in. You feel your nipples harden at the exposure to both the night air and Yoongi’s hungry eyes. He swallows and licks his lips as he runs his eyes over every new inch of you that is revealed. Memorizing your form, your perked nipples, the way your chest rises with each anxious breath.

He reaches back up to the collar and eases one shoulder of fabric off. You move to take the rest off despite the cold, but he stills your hand with his.

“Keep it on, please. I love seeing you wear my clothes,” Yoongi says, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing them against his knuckles as you slowly grind your still covered core on his length. He groans in frustration, his pants getting tighter. You let go of his hand and run your fingers up beneath his white cotton v-neck, his ab muscles flinching under your touch. You help him remove his shirt, taking in the way his pale skin shines under the moonlight.

Seeing you look at him makes his cock twitch in his pants, and you think it’s time to provide him some relief.

You scoot back and start to undo his belt, getting low and staring up at him through your lashes. His breath hitches when you make eye contact with him, and then it starts to pick up as you undo the button and zipper. You shimmy down the denim, but leave his black boxer-briefs where they are.

You come back up to the waistband after releasing his jeans, and you take the elastic in between your teeth. You tug them down with your teeth while your hands pull them on the sides. His erection springs free, and he sucks in a fast breath when his cock meets the cool air. You take the opportunity to let your warm breath ghost over his throbbing cock, coaxing a deep groan from Yoongi. He puts his hand to your cheek, and you look up to meet his gaze.

“I don’t think I can last if you put me in your mouth, baby girl. We can do head next time,” Yoongi says, and your heart soars at the pet name. You ease back up so that you’re straddling him once more, and reflexively start to grind on him again.

“Please let me take care of you. Look how wet you are,” he says, running his fingers over your clothed slit, dipping one finger in to collect a bit of slick. He tastes his finger and says. “Yeah, we’re definitely going to need to do head next time.”

You blush at the thought of him buried between your thighs, vulgarly slurping up everything you have to give him. You clench just thinking about it, and Yoongi notices. He pulls your panties to the side, takes the head of his cock and presses it to your clit, teasing your entrance. His precum mixes with your wetness, and you can’t resist him any more. You’ve resisted him for years, and you’re done.

You slowly ease yourself down on his cock, only making it halfway down before you have to wait for you to adjust. You both look at each other; Yoongi’s jaw is set and his eyebrows are furrowed together. Your mouth drops open as you raise and lower yourself again, feeling the delicious stretch that accompanies it. You bottom out and begin setting a slow and gentle pace.

Your body is rolling steadily, moonlight creating beautiful shadows on your body as you take him in over and over. As many times as you’ve dreamed of this, you still didn’t fathom it being this good or it feeling this right.

Yoongi is everything you had imagined he would be and then some. The way he is looking up at you, the way his soft little moans escape every time you bottom out, the way his eyebrows furrow together at the sight of your dripping heat enveloping him. Perfection.

He takes his hands and trails them up the curve of your waist, stopping just below your breasts. He runs his thumbs over your nipples, making you shudder and arch your back, pushing your chest into his hands. He palms them, kneading little circles around your areolas.

You lean forward, putting your weight on him again, and he meets you eagerly with another kiss. He wraps his arms around your back, keeping himself under the jacket, and you pick up the rhythm. Yoongi scratches his nails all the way down your back. Once he gets to your ass, he cups it, squeezing gently. You place your forehead against his, and your eyes meet.

“Y/N,” he whispers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “you look so beautiful on top of me like this. Please let me see this sight for the rest of my life.” You whimper at the praise, and pick up the pace.

“Please,” he continues, small grunts mixing in with his words, “Don’t wake up tomorrow and pretend like this never happened. Please... don’t break my heart,” he pleads.

“Not a chance, Yoon. I can never let you go. You’re everything to me. You’ve always been.”

“Baby, I am so close. Can I--”

“Come with me, Yoongi. Let’s do it together,” you say. Yoongi’s hands are on your hips and he’s thrusting up into you with an unrelenting pace. At this angle, you can feel his head graze against your cervix with each thrust, sending white spots in your vision.

You both reach your end at the same time, breaths mingling as you come down from your highs. You lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat gradually slow. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head and sighs into your hair.

“So…” he begins, “do you wanna go to the festival with me?” Yoongi asks.

“Are you gonna pick me up? Let me hold your hand? Have a nice little special romantic date?” you fire back, trying your best to sound like him. You sit up on your arm, letting your hair hang over to one side, and watch the light dance in his eyes as he laughs.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “I might even get us a little snack from one of the desert vendors.”

#bts smut #bts smut reactions #bts smut one shot #bts fanfiction #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi smut one shot #soft!yoongi #yoongi--enthusiast #send me requests

[thefairyletters]

NaruSaku Fanfics

I wouldn't say much – I love NaruSaku and I hate to see great works shadowed behind the piles of popular NS stories that I never have liked as much except for a few, which also I'll drop below in the list.

I'll update this list whenever I come across a story that I particularly enjoy or finds worth spreading word across. So be sure to like and reblog this post so you can revisit it to add new story in your reading pile later.

Also, genres vary and are not mentioned, but does it make any difference as long as the story is good?

Warning: super long post featuring beautiful, beautiful stories that you wouldn't regret reading. I swear. I'm positive. Contains SNS and other side pairings.

Without further ado;

How I fell in love with my best friend: Krapo || ff.net || M || complete

How the little blond boy Sakura had always known had changed, changing as well her feelings. The unfolding of their life, while Naruto worked to become the best Hokage and she faced her own emotions. Growing Love.

(I have nothing but upmost reverence for this story. This author writes one of the nest NS and I have loved all. NS is beautiful and Sakura is badass. Everything we already know is here and more.)

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Dangerous infiltration mission: Krapo || ff.net || M || complete

Naruto and Sakura are send by the Hokage for a difficult infiltration mission. They will have to face more than just the danger itself as they will have to keep their cover to be fake husband and wife credible. how it will impact the relationship between the two ninja. Growing Love. Misunderstanding.

(If you loved the aforementioned story, you'll love this one too. Mutual pining.)

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All over again: Krapo || ff.net || M || post-war || complete

Sasuke come back, Team seven is reunited. But Sakura has lost Naruto. How will she make him fall in love with her again? What other difficulties lies ahead of them?

(Naruto loses memory. SasuSaku angst but not in romantic sense and I loved it all. Misunderstanding and more mutual pining. And I'm in love with this story too.)

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Hit the floor running: Sakurablossom009 || A03 || M (but unnecessary) || Modern Hitman/Robbers AU || complete

Life was going great, Sakura thought. She was penniless, stranded in Europe without a way home, her fiancee had just dumped her for another woman AND her new companion was quite possibly a thief. How could things get any worse? Wait...was that guy pointing a gun at her?

(Now, personally, I don't prefer modern AU, but this story really had interesting characterisation and more character depth. NaruSaku is pretty spot on. It also features SasuHina and bamf!Hinata)

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The greatest pretenders: snowyseas || ff.net || M || Borutoverse || ongoing

Fifteen years is a long time to not talk to someone you consider your best friend, and is made even more difficult when they (and you) are married. The things Sakura should have confronted Naruto about never came to fruition, but as an old saying goes, "the truth will always be revealed".

(Your typical I-made-a-wrong-choice-but-now-can-be-done story but unlike many other stories in this they don't admit their love for each chapter at the first chapter itself. In fact, it feels so canon and you can almost superimpose it upon the canon. Sakura is mentally strong and knows what's right. )

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He was the sun: SavageTrickster || ff.net || T || Canonverse || ongoing

He had come a long way - from a lonely orphan ostracized by everyone to a loved hero. He deserved all these. His Hokage dream to come true. All the ramen he could eat. - Her eyes fell on a certain Hyuuga seated close enough for accidental touches. Her heart sank a little at a harsh whisper of reminder - And a deserving girl...who could give him all her love.

(So far so good. It's ongoing, and is at chapter 3. Sakura leaves Konoha much like how Naruto did, to explore the world aka seeing my headcanon in writing.)

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Wilderness: Kanji no Sakka || M || canondivergent || ongoing

As the war screeches to a temporary halt, Naruto leaves the battlefield on a unique mission only he can complete. Sakura is ordered to go with him. In the days that follow their bond is changed forever.

(Although I hate any explicit stories that involve characters below age 17, I give this a pass because of the uniqueness of plot and characterisation. It has fine lemons that comes with a good plot.)

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How It Should Have Been: OfPaintAndOil || ff.net || T || canon divergent || oneshot

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Sasuke was supposed to be the dark one, the unredeemable one. Naruto was the bright one, the good one. It wasn't supposed to be like this, with blood on his hands and glowing red eyes and a grin. Naruto was supposed to make everything better, and maybe he did, in the end, but Sakura had never expected the end to look quite like this.

(Featuring Yandere!Naruto. It leaves you wanting for more and is a fascinating read. It's dark themed so proceed with caution as your favorite character might or might not be dead.)

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The Best Dates are the Cheap Ones: Shivakashi || ff.net || T || post!Timeskip || Oneshot

The whole point was to get the best date; that meant the richest and classiest guy, right? Sakura realizes what she has taken for granted and Ino learns a lesson in value.

(Sakura learns her lesson and snatches her boy. InoNaru is worth noting. Not the best characterisation of Sakura but bear with her jealousy for that is the reason why NS fluff exists. Story itself is very light and entertaining.)

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mangoes and strawberries: ohthelinsanity || ff.net || T || postwar || oneshot

Sakura Haruno was elbow deep in Naruto Uzumaki's guts when he asked her to marry him. It was so not the right time. But she still said yes.

(This story just screams NS upon every single line. Diabetes warning. Too cute for this world. One of the best NS fluff I've read thus far. It kinda sticks to you forever!)

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18 minutes, 23 seconds: ohthelinsanity || ff.net || T || postwar || oneshot

in which Naruto asks Sakura about that time she literally reached into his chest and grabbed his heart with her bare hand.

(Heartwarming. We all know how Sakura held Naruto's heart on her palms and how we love that moment. This is memory of that moment reminisced by our cutie pies.)

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One Big Uzumaki Family: John Smith || ff.net || T || postwar || Complete

A set of drabbles revolving around Naruto, Sakura, and their children. It turns out that, when the war ends, these two get busy. Real busy.

(IF YOU DON'T READ THIS MASTERPIECE HOW DARE YOU CALL YOURSELF NS FAN?!!! READ!!! This story should be on the top of your reading list.

UNDERRATED AF!

R e a d t h i s s t o r y and cry with me for this should have been canon. 100%)

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My Life Would Suck Without You: peanutbutter126 || ff.net || T || oneshot collection

Sometimes it's the smallest things that matter the most.

(Read this and then One big Uzumaki family. You'll feel super satisfied. I promise.)

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Colors and Carousels: Folle Sakura || ff.net || T || oneshot

She couldn't count the number of times she'd been mistaken for Naruto's girlfriend. Not that she minded. But Naruto acted like it was so… so… offensive.

(No words for this one. Just read and enjoy the confusion.)

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Let's Get Married: luvtoshi || ff.net || M || postwar || complete

It was supposed to be a simple solution to their immediate problems. But maybe they took more than they can chew?

(This is one of my few favorites that is also popular. Spot on characterization and beautiful relationship growth. This is one of the few stories that always stuck to me.)

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Chasing Smoke with Bare Hands: soulaire || ff.net || T || oneshot

"I could have loved her," Sasuke says flatly. "If she'd just given me the chance—" "Sakura gave you all the chances in the world," Kakashi cuts in, stern. "You underestimated her. And you underestimated her ability to walk away from you. At the core of it all, that's where things went wrong."

(This story is for those who loves both SS and NS but thinks Sakura deserves happier life than what she got in canon. Features NS and slight SS.)

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Touch: ohthelinsanity || ff.net || T || oneshot

Kakashi watches as his student grow to be more physically comfortable with one another. He finds it kinda ridiculous.

(Fluff. Feelings. Kakashi's fed up and might have diabetes from all the observation.)

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Moonlight shadows: luvtoshi || ff.net || T || oneshot

Sometimes, the moon brings out hidden feelings to the surface.

(Beautiful literature. NS feels. You can almost mistake it for canon with the way characters are written.)

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Seriously Serious: Damsel in Shining Armor || ff.net || T || modern AU || oneshot

He confessed to her when they first met. He confessed to her years after. He confessed to her almost everyday. Her response was almost always positive... So why the heck was he still single? "I love you." "Love you too. So is Sasuke-kun taken or not?"

(The only reason why I even picked this story is that it is a oneshot. I have very little interest in modern AU. But this one makes another exception. Pining. Love at first sight.)

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It was always you: luvtoshi || ff.net || M || postwar || complete

The war is long over. They have both grown. Now it's time to conclude their story. Naruto and Sakura.

(You know what, all stories from this author are just, Chef's kiss. )

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A Safe Pair of Hands: Kanji no Sakka || ff.net || T || oneshot

Sakura heeds a stern warning to make it clear how she feels about Naruto.

(Feels. You'll love this if you like first person pov. This story told from Sakura's pov.)

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Other Dreams: tricksie || ff.net || M || oneshot

"Naruto, you shouldn't endanger yourself—" "Stop it," he snapped. Dropping his arm to hook under her seat, Naruto pulled her firmly onto his hip, locking her to him. Sakura gasped, suddenly aware of just how very close they were.

(Sexual tension. Romance. Leaves you wanting. Also, high on feels and lust on equal measure.)

.

Heaven Unexpected: Folle || ff.net || M || oneshot

Because nothing can happen; it's Naruto. He always comes back. He's practically indestructible.

(Heavy on feels. There are chances that it might rain. Actually there are high chances. But oh well, it's beautiful and one of my favourites so here it goes.)

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Shade of the Leaf: Ravyn || ff.net || T || canon divergent || complete

Sasuke is back. Naruto has joined ANBU. Sakura is spending more time in the hospital than in the field. Team 7 struggles to redefine itself, because sometimes you don't know what you really want after all.

(Featuring Mature but still in-character!Naruto, Badass!Sakura, (Bit)Supportive!Sasuke along with Team 7 friendship. Mutual pining. Ending but with a lot loose ends.)

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Breaking Up Isn't that Hard to Do: Narf-for-the-Garthoc || ff.net || T || oneshot

This is not an epic tale of action, suspense and true love. Yeah, I'm disappointed, too.

(This is pure comedy. With a dash of romance. And insanity.)

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Steamy Encounters: Narf-for-the-Garthoc || ff.net || T || oneshot

A flurry of coincidences and fateful machinations bring Naruto and Sakura together at the local baths. Can they rein in their animal passions? And do you really think that's the kind of story I write?

(Just r e a d. Please.)

.

Garden of Sanctuary: Nes Mikel || ff.net || T || Canon divergent || oneshot

An alternate ending to Naruto. The Heavens describe the Garden a peaceful paradise. The Hells describe the Garden a baneful prison. In here... which is it?

(This is part of a series which you can follow from the author's profile. This is the second part, but can be read exclusively. As far as the AU goes, this story and settings is brilliant and heartbreaking. This is told from Naruto's pov. To look at things from Sakura's, read the first part. It is multi-chaptered.)

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Complications: Geno Calamari || ff.net || T || canon divergent || oneshot

While capturing the Kyuubi, Uchiha Itachi finds true adversaries in the form of Haruno Sakura and Uzumaki Naruto.

(Wanna see NaruSaku teamwork? This is it! You wouldn't find it anywhere better. Strong!Naruto, Strong!Sakura versus Itachi Uchiha)

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Life is a waving feather: jusrecht || AO3 || T || AU || oneshot

Everyone thought they were inevitable.

(There's beauty in subtlety and this is that. Also, mentions of character death.)

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Home: kirabook || AO3 || T || AU || complete

Shinachiku finds himself in a strange place with little to no explanation. Everyone he knows is there, but why are they acting so strangely? Why do they seem so different? And where is his home? 

(Cute and heartwrenching at the same time. Cameo Stalker. Read this for NS family feels pre-marriage.)

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Things we never say: thekatthatbarks || AO3 || T || oneshot

She wished she knew how to hold things lightly. There were some things she was terrified of breaking. Whether it be from an honest misstep or simply because she could.

(Reminds you why we love NS so much.)

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Open seasons: sazzafraz || AO3 || T || SNS || postwar || oneshot

The way Sasuke comes home is less myth and more devastatingly embarrassing happenstance.

(Featuring badass!Sakura, obedient!Naruto and normal!Sasuke, as well as Sakura's commentary on her life)

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Five things Sakura will never tell Naruto: sowell || AO3 || T || AU || oneshot

Kunoichi know how to keep their secrets.

(NS relationship analysis story.)

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Artistic purposes: StormyInk || AO3 || M || AU || Oneshot

Sai finds his favorite drawing subjects a bit lacking of late, and he sets a plan into motion to draw his team mates together. Simply for the sake of his art, of course.

(Aka Sai is fed up from seeing his teammates dancing around each other and decides to help them get laid–the story. You gotta admit Sai is the best wingman.)

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I collect my tears (so I can drown you in them): amako || AO3 || T || AU || complete

The hardest thing is letting go. Or Sakura sees Naruto falling in love with Shikamaru a little more every day, and she does the only thing she can think of. Then it's only a matter of learning how to stop loving Naruto.

(Sakura and Angst that has nothing to do with Sasuke. Featuring Sakura-sensei. And Shikamaru. It's a great story if you know when to let go of canon)

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Stranger than the wild: kiddattwell || AO3 || M || SNS || postwar || Ongoing

The war is over and Sasuke is home for good, but Sakura can't choose between the boys she loves. Sasuke still has his demons and Naruto still fights them and Sakura still follows them both, but this time down a path that none of them expected.

(This is canon. It is the best SNS story I've ever read. Story told in SNS POV in rotation. Slow burn, pining and relationship complication. YOU GOTTA READ THIS, I INSIST!!!! Also features SaiIno and InoShika.)

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Bringing Back Sasuke: Blue Jeans || ff.net || T || post war || oneshot

Naruto brings Sasuke back to Sakura. Many, many times over. Sasuke does not appreciate; not the blood and definitely not the angst.

(I've read this story multiple times and it gets funnier and makes your heart hurt and swell simultaneously each time. NaruSaku wouldn't be blissfully happy together without Sasuke thrown somewhere in the mix, that's exactly why I love SNS. This story perfectly represents the dynamic of team 7.)

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Yurei: Kanji no Sakka || ff.net || T || AU || oneshot

The past should stay dead and buried, but it won't if Naruto can't let go.

(Not exactly my favourite story, but I liked the concept. We all know how stubborn Naruto is once decides on something. If he wants to become Hokage, he will become Hokage. If he believes in Sasuke, he will believe in him forever. If he loves Sakura, he will marry her – uh, or should have, very OCC of him that he didn't.)

.

Tag NS fan you know so they don't miss any of this!

#naruto #sakura haruno #naruto fanfiction #uzumaki naruto #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfiction reccomendations #fanfiction rec list #fanfiction recommendation #ff.net #ao3 #narusaku #i ship narusasusaku #i ship these two so much #naruto x sakura #sasusaku #kakashi hakate #shikasaku

[oikawasass]

Okay so you know that tikok trend where the girl goes and sits down in her boyfriends lap while hes doing whatever on his computer? That with Bakugou, Kirishima and Sero with their tiny gf!!

PLS I LOVE THIS THANK U

sitting in their lap while they game.

‣ pairing : bakugou, kirishima, sero x fem reader. (separate)

‣ drabbles.

‣ warnings : some profanities !

tagging @bokunokangae bcus shes annoying and forced me to again

Bakugou Katsuki

three. hours.

three long hours since bakugou had even looked back in her direction.

normally she was understanding when he got busy, not wanting to pester him or distract him from what he needed to get done.

but the shithead was playing video games.

bakugou never played video games.

the only reason he was playing in the first place was because kaminari had made a comment like ‘he won’t play because he sucks and just doesn’t wanna be embarrassed guys, don’t force him!’ an obvious trap that the blonde was stupid enough to fall for.

she’d tried to talk to him. she pulled his headphones off his ear every so often to ask him how his game was going, but he would just swat her hand away and give a short: “not right now.”

if not now then when?? it had been three hours??

she was fed up! she was impatient! she simply demanded attention! the hoodie he’d thrown in her face before he started playing wasn’t enough!

she put it on and was gonna keep it of course, but that’s not the point.

in a last-ditch attempt to make her boyfriend give her some kind of acknowledgement, (name) slowly shuffled over to where bakugou sat at his desk. she stood beside his chair for a moment to see if he would notice her hovering, only to unsurprisingly get no response. katsuki’s eyes stayed glued to the screen.

so she did what she had to. she stretched one of her legs over his own, sitting her small figure down in his lap.

bakugou tensed up, glancing down at her and back at his game while continuing to play.

“what the fuck are you- (name) get the hell off.”

his tone of voice was surprisingly monotone, remaining focused on his game.

did she listen? of course not. ducking underneath his arms, careful not to knock his controller out of his hands, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waist, clinging to him like a koala.

katsuki huffed heavily, adjusting his position so that he was more comfortably hugging around her waist.

“you’re so annoying.”

his small smirk was almost evident in his voice. he didn’t actually hate having her hugging him in his seat as much as he thought he did. the moment was surprisingly sweet, (name’s) face nuzzled into her boyfriend’s chest while bakugou had his chin rested atop her chest. he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, smiling softly to himself. everything was calm.

until he died.

“SHITTY HAIR YOU STUPID FUCKING—”

Sero Hanta

he was gaming again.

he told her he would only be a little bit, wanting to play with his friends on his day off. and she respected that! hanta had told her what game he was playing, but it wasn’t animal crossing new horizons so she didn’t really pay attention to what he’d said.

time went on. one hour, two, then three, and four.

now he was at the five-hour mark. and (name) was still on his bed scrolling on her phone waiting for him to finish.

tossing her feet into the air and pulling herself up from and laid down position, she came up with a plan where both her and sero could be happy. she would get the affection she wanted, and sero could still play his games. all would be well!

(name) threw the blankets she’d wrapped herself up in off of her body, standing up and waddling slowly over to sero’s desk with a quiet yawn, accompanied by a light stretch of her arms.

“hanta.” she mumbled, walking up beside his chair. his eyes remained fixated on the screen, only giving a small raise of his eyebrows in response to show he was listening. only he wasn’t actually listening, he just needed to act like he was.

reaching to grab his wrist, she slowly lifted his hands up so that she could slip in between his arms. sero snapped out of his focus and gave her a confused stare as she continued.

“babe what are you- woah!”

the boy was a bit surprised when she suddenly hopped into his lap, tightly wrapping all her limbs around his waist and burying her head into the crook of his neck.

sero smiled down at her, quickly kissing her cheek with a small chuckle before returning to focussing on his game, resting his chin down on her shoulder.

“gettin’ some action while you game eh??” kaminari’s voice could be heard from the inside of hanta’s headphones.

“cool your boner kaminari.” sero retorted with a laugh.

“hey man, i’m not the one getting my d-”

“user sparky has been kicked from the party.”

“BAKUGOU STOP KICKING HIM.”

“YOU ALL WANTED TO DO IT ANYWAY.”

Kirishima Eijirou

kirishima sat at his desk, the clicking sound of him pushing the buttons and joysticks on his controller being the only sound to fill the quiet room.

his girlfriend sat on his bed behind him, lying on her stomach and kicking her feet slowly behind her while she waited for him to finish.

now, it had only been around an hour and a half, maybe two that he’d been playing with the rest of his squad, but that was the longest in a while (name) had gone without at least some form of attention from the redhead. she’d gotten so used to the two of them behind annoyingly clingy and sweet with each other, that now it was strange to not have kirishima all over her for more than an hour, and vice versa.

“ei?”

she spoke, sitting up to sit criss cross in her boyfriend’s pile of blankets. eijirou didn’t answer, too focussed into his match, with his headphones blocking out most of the sound around him.

“eiiii?”

no answer again.

with a loud huff, (name) stood up, walking over to eijirou and gently tugging at the sleeve of his t-shirt to get his attention.

kirishima turned his head to look at her for a moment, as if to check if she was okay. once he registered nothing seemed wrong, he turned his head to back to the screen of his computer.

“one-sec princess- no kaminari don’t go that way!!”

(name) pouted and crossed her arms over her chest, continuing to stand by her boyfriend as he yelled at kaminari through his microphone.

after another few minutes of hovering, she grew too impatient to wait for him to finish anymore.

lifting up her leg and stretching it out over her boyfriend’s lap, she manoeuvred her way to sit down on his thighs. kirishima, realizing immediately she wanted to sit with him, lifted his arms up a little so that she could get between them, and that’s exactly what she did.

ducking under his arms, she hugged around his waist tightly, scooching herself as close to him as she could to lay her head down on his shoulder.

eijirou leaned his head against hers, smiling and pushing his mic slightly away from his mouth.

“we can go lay down after this match, sound okay babe?”

(name) nodded slowly, smirking slightly to herself when she knew she would finally be getting what she wanted.

luckily, kirishima was overall a pretty calm guy, so she didn’t have to worry about him getting annoyed or angry. or so she thought.

apparently, sero shooting and killing eijirou instead of someone on the enemy team was enough to break the dam.

“SERO ARE YOU KIDDING-”

kirishima dropped his controller down onto his desk, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend tightly and squeezing her as he groaned, and (name) couldn’t help but erupt into a fit of giggles.

#bakugo katsuki #kirishima eijirou #sero hanta #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #sero x reader #bakugou imagine #kirishima imagine #sero imagine #bakugo oneshot #kirishima oneshot #mha hanta sero #mha bakugou #mha bakugou katsuki #mha kirishima eijirou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha kirishima eijirou #bnha hanta sero #boku no hero fic #boku no hero academia #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero imagines #mha oneshots #mha x reader #my hero x reader #my hero headcanons

[1kook]

commercial break ; THREE

this is a netflix & chill drabble kook’s pov during their argument in d&b !

summary; But Jungkook loves the sun. warnings; post-fight, drinking, heart ache :( miscellaneous; everyone say thank u kim namjoon 🤩 word count; 1.5k

notes; a lot of people wanted to know his thoughts during the iconic d&b fight scene so here’s the closure we all needed </3 

He knows he’s said the wrong thing the second the last syllable departs from his lips.

Jungkook doesn’t mean it, that much he knows right away, but even still… there’s a silent moment of shock between the two of you, one where even he is surprised by his own tongue.

You move first, phone whipping across the room.

Now Jungkook has seen a lot of scary things in his life. He’s seen horror movies and walked through a cemetery at night once. He’s come home way past curfew and had to face the wrath of his normally lenient father. He’s sat front row in his first ever college seminar. Yet none of that fear, that anxiety, that dread, compares to the level of emotion he feels wrap around his throat the moment you get up.

“___, wait,” he calls out frantically, hands shaking the further and further you get. He has to tell you he doesn’t mean it, that he would never mean it. But how do you follow up a statement like that? Even when he catches your eyes, beautiful irises colder than the bottom of the ocean, he doesn’t know what to say. He stutters through an excuse he wouldn’t have believed himself and watches you slip further away.

Jungkook can’t let you leave, not when you’re so hurt and he’s so confused, but what else can he say? He doesn’t know, and when you angrily send him back inside he feels every bit the scolded child. Funny how that works.

He calls and calls until he realizes the muted hum from upstairs is the phone you left behind. He’s crazy and in love, desperately scouring through your social media accounts for a sign you’re safe and home. (You were on Twitter three minutes ago, so that’s a relief.) But even then he can’t relax, turning his own words over and over in his head.

Jungkook values a lot of things in your relationship. There’s a beautiful understanding that comes with being in love, a new sense of comfort he’d never felt before. You make him feel warm and in love, keep him grounded when the world threatens to swallow him beneath its surface. You care for him and he for you.

Where those thoughts had come from, he didn’t know. All he knew was that one minute you were picking at the edges of his patience, and the next he was shooting a dagger into your chest.

Self-reflection, Namjoon had always said, the key point to understanding oneself. Usually, that’s followed by some tips on yoga, on calming the mind, but his leg won’t stop bouncing and there’s a boa constrictor wrapped around his throat so that zen mentality will have to wait for now. A harsh exhale, foot thumping against the floor.

Carefully, he unscrambles his thoughts.

There were times you were childish and, for the most part, Jungkook didn’t mind. You brought out the most beautiful things in life with just your laughter alone. You roped him into doing things he never could enjoy growing up, which made him rekindle his love for old hobbies. If sunshine was a person, Jungkook is sure it was you.

You were bright and ever-burning, always with a mission in your head, even if it was something as small as cleaning your windows that day. A star, he thinks, except your smile alone garners the power of ten supernovas combined. The amount of joy and euphoria you’ve brought him this past year was immeasurable. You made him smile, even when you were tired, rising every morning and setting every night dutifully just like the sun.

But too much sunshine could be hot, scorching even.

His mom had mentioned it once, very early into your relationship, how you were a little too childish for Jungkook. He had angrily defended you, stormed out of his parents' house like he was ready to leave them all for you. (Would he? He likes to think so.) But a mother’s advice always haunted one the most.

Yes, your youthful outlook made his life colorful and bright, but there were times he found himself wondering what it would be like to have someone… not as outgoing.

Someone plain and always collected. Someone who would gently remind him of his deadlines, and watch all his favorite documentaries with him. Someone like him, he supposed, who matched his interests perfectly.

It sounds awfully boring.

It sounds terrible to be damned to such a dull life, especially now that he’s had a taste of you. You, who brings laughter and sunshine everywhere you go, his amazing other half. He’d hate it if you always did what he wanted— he loves when you pick at everything he likes because you let him do it back! Jungkook’s head was a never-ending spiral— that much he’s known from a young age. But with you in his life, it became fun and exhilarating. Gone was the dark tunnel and in its place was a twisty slide with loops and turns that defied all laws of gravity. It wasn’t a scary place anymore and it was all because of you.

You, who he might possibly lose forever. His own negligence was to thank, an inability to voice small issues until they piled up and became this big, warped monster that no longer pertained to his original frustrations. It was an ugly thing, so twisted and vile, taking the thoughts he seldom had and weaponizing them against you.

Was that it? Had those mindless thoughts been the root of today’s brash decisions. Jungkook wants to blame it on that, but part of him knows it’s his own inability to share his feelings that led to that spontaneous outburst. There were obviously some things he still needed to work on, but pinning it all on you, his dazzling ray in the sky, was the worst move he could have made. Self-reflection, he repeats to himself.

His heart is still pounding in his ears, drumming obnoxiously loud as if it wants to torture him for his actions. His phone rings across the room and Jungkook lunges for it, hoping and praying it’s you.

It’s not.

It’s just Namjoon calling to wish the two of you a happy anniversary. “You two having fun?” he teases before Jungkook can get so much as a greeting in.

“Hyung,” he chokes out hoarsely, glancing down at the ground. “I-I said something to ___,” he whispers even though there is no one here to hide from but his own crippling thoughts. “And I don’t think she’s coming back.”

His voice cracks a little. He hides it with a gulp so dry it hurts. “What?” Namjoon asks. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook sighs, running a hand over his eyes. “Are you busy right now?”

—

“You need to go to bed,” Namjoon tells him, ambling the two of them up the stairs. Jungkook snorts, sliding against the entire wall on the way up.

“I refuse,” he announces. He has to pause on the next step because he’s pretty sure there’s about four of the same step whirling before his eyes. Beside him, Namjoon sighs. “Hyung, I can’t see.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, deciding the stairs are too much of a hassle and guiding them back to the living room instead. “Couch,” he informs him before rather carelessly dumping him onto it. “Listen,” he begins, crouching down beside Jungkook. “It’s like, 4 AM… and I have work tomorrow. So I’m going to leave,” he says, slowly pointing in the direction of outside. Jungkook nods, even though Namjoon is definitely pointing upside-down backward. “Okay, JK?”

“That’s me,” he agrees, letting his head slump back against a throw pillow. Namjoon groans.

“That is you,” he concedes. “And you need to sober up before you try talking to ___ again.”

The mere mention of your name turns a switch on inside him. “Can’t,” he whines, features twisting up together. “She hates me. Will cut my balls off.”

Namjoon goes to protest but eventually stops himself. “Yeah, well. Probably.” Jungkook wails at his friend’s poor attempt at consoling him. “Sleep a little and then head over to hers, okay?” He pats him on the cheek once before finally making his exit.

Jungkook can’t believe this. How embarrassing. If you saw him right now, you’d clown him for getting this drunk off wine. But he truly understands it now. It was the devil’s drink, so sweet and cooling only to suddenly slap him across the face with his own insobriety. Oh, his head was going to ache badly later.

Well, that was a problem for later’s Jungkook, he decides as he slinks off the couch and back into the kitchen. There’s a new box of cherry vodka he’d bought just for tonight—or last night, technically—because he knows it’s your favorite. And well. He misses you so much he’ll do anything to feel close to you again.

He’s not sure how long he sits on the floor, swing after swing going down his throat until he’s got three extra fingers and a new middle name. Just that when the sun finally filters through, so warm and bright, he finds himself missing you again. His feet take him out the door before he can think twice.

The morning rays bring with them a wicked headache that almost has Jungkook throwing up into his bushes. Part of him, the last droplet of reason, tells him he should change. He’s wearing the same clothes from yesterday and they reek. Furthermore, the sun is hellbent on soaking up every inch of his black clothing.  

He should change if he doesn’t want to suffocate in this heat, under this blazing sun in the sky.

But Jungkook loves the sun.

He walks on.

—

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

#goldenclosetnet #bangtanhq #jungkook fic #jjk fic #mine

[ray-ray-writings]

maybe a drabble of the reader traveling to the nether for supplies and getting corner trapped in a fortress? like they have to surround themselves with dirt and the wither skeletons are like breaking it? so the reader has lost all hope and is like messaging sleepybois on the communicator being like “ill miss you all and love you all” and basically preparing for death but phil comes just in time and brings them back to safety? (bonus if the reader is on their last life!)

Technoblade needed blaze rods and powder for potions, but he just couldn’t seem to get a break to actually go into the nether and get it himself. So being the good sibling you are, you offered to go for him. He agreed and gave you some weapons and a fire resistance potion so that you would be safe. So you say goodbye to your brothers and your father and you head off into the nether. The trip to the fortress goes smoothly. You wave at all the pigmen and the piglins let you pass without problems. Once you’re inside the fortress, you drink the fire resistance potion your brother gave you and you get to work. You camp the blaze spawners and take no damage as the fling their fireballs at you. You get so into your grind, that you forget about all of the other mobs in the fortress, a huge mistake on your end. 

As you’re killing blaze, something hits you from behind and you’re thrown forward onto the ground, you’re back stinging and your whole body just feels bad. You manage to look at your arm and you immediately notice that your usually red hearts have turned black and are slowly deteriorating. I manage to scramble to your feet and turn around to face the wither skeleton. It raises it’s sword at you to try and take another strike but you manage to block it and quickly kill the mob. As you look in your inventory, you realize that you have forgotten to bring food and that you won’t be able to get your hearts back up. So deciding you have enough rods for now, you quickly begin to book it out of the fortress. Unfortunately for you, as you’re running down a corridor, you run head first into some wither skeletons guarding the path. There are only two, but you know you can’t take them both. 

So you turn on your heel and run the other way. The clatter of bones that sounds behind you let’s you know that you are now being chased. You manage to twist and turn down the long hallways of the fortress, but in doing so you begin to get lost until at one point you run straight into a deadend. You turn around and find the wither skeletons closing in on you. So you do the only thing you think is logical. You pull out some cobblestone that you had grabbed and begin building around you, a small little box to close yourself in. You get most of it done, but just as you’re about to place the last block. One of the stone swords surges through the gap and slashes your stomach. You let out a cry of pain, but manage to bat the skeleton’s back and close off the whole. You pull out a small torch for a little bit of light in your small box. The main hope is that the skeleton’s will get bored and just go on their way, but the sound of something hitting the cobblestone fills your ears and you know that hope is hopeless. You manage to check your arm again, and a small sob escapes your lips. You’re down to a single heart with no food, no way to heal, and no way out. You know that this is your last life and once these wither skellys break down your barrier, you’re dead and done for. There is nothing you can do… All you can do is reach out and say goodbye. 

You manage to pull your communicator out of your pocket and type a message to your father. “Things went horribly wrong. I’m trapped by wither skellys. I’ve surrounded myself with cobblestone but it seems that they’re going to break it down and kill me. I have no food and no way out…. I love you so so much dad. Tell the boys I love them too. I’m going to miss you a lot, but don’t miss me too much. I’m so sorry I let you down.” and you hit send and just wait for your impending final death. 

Back in the overworld, Philza is helping Techno prep to brew potions while Wilbur and Tommy argue over some little thing. He feels his communicator buzz and for a moment he considers just ignoring it and getting to it later because he’s in the middle of something. But then something from deep within him tells him to look at it and his heart stops when he reads the message. He immediately steps away from the brewing stand causing Techno’s head to shoot up, “What?” He asks, really curious as to what his father had just received. “We’ve got to go now” Philza exclaims before rushing over to the closet where he stored his armor and weapons and piling them on his body, shoving some food and a healing potion in his inventory, before rushing to the door. “Where are we going and why are we in such a rush?” Tommy whines as he drags his feet to the door. “NOW!” Philza simply booms, startling all three sons into action before he sprints out the door and to the nether portal. The three boys jump into action and grab their stuff, struggling to put it on as they run after Philza. They catch up to him and all go through the portal together. As they’re running through hell toward the fortress, the boys manage to get Philza to tell them what’s happening, but it’s very broken up but they manage to piece it together, “Y/N. Fortress. Trapped. Low health.” The four buckle down into a full sprint and don’t stop until they're inside the nether brick castle. 

So for the sake of the story we’re going to say that when you sent the message to Philza, it also showed him your coordinates. So Philza knows exactly where to go and with Philza leading and Techno following behind, the mobs that sprinkled the hallways didn’t even get to blink before they were dead. With the pace they were moving, the four found the deadend rather quickly and just in time too. The two skeletons had almost broken through the cobble when the four found them. Just a few more hits and they would have been through. Philza sees red and charges forward the only thought in his head is to kill the things that dare hurt his family. The wither skeletons don’t even know what is happening. They’re dead before they can even shift their agro. Once their dead, Philza lets himself take a few breaths to calm down before dropping his sword and pulling out his pickaxe and carefully hitting the cobble away to reveal you behind the walls, covered in blood looking completely out of it. 

You’re so out of it you don’t even realize what’s happening. You don’t realize that the sounds of the wither skeletons tried to break the cobble had stopped and the clatter of bones had quit as well. So when the light of the nether pours in from a hole in your cobble wall you just think that it’s the end for you. It’s not until strong arms wrap around you and pull you into a warm chest do you realize that you’re safe, that you’re father had gotten your message and had come to save you. Sobs began escaping your lips. You’re so tired, and in pain, and were so scared that it all just comes crashing down on you at once. ‘I’ve got you sweetheart. You’re going to be just fine,” Philza murmurs in your hair as he tries to rub your back. But you let out a hiss as he accidentally runs his hand over the large bleeding gash that one of the wither skeletons left. Philza pulls you away from him and examines you and quickly jumps into action. He lays you down on the nether brick and instructs the other three to keep an eye out while he stablizies you. He quickly pulls out the food and the potion he stuffed in his pockets. Philza uncorks the pinkish potion and tips it back and helps you swallow all of its contents. Once that is down, he carefully helps you eat some of the things he brought with him. After you’re finished, he grabs your arm and watches as the red hearts stop shaking and the number of red hearts slowly goes back up. When you’re back up to about 3/4s health, Philza helps you stand up. The health potion has made you feel a lot better, but you still ache and you know that when it wears off there will be hell to pay. So it’s best if they get you back to the over world asap. So Philza has one of your arms over his shoulder and calls Tommy over to support you on the other side. He decides that they’ll need Techno and Wilbur to defend them on the way out. “Okay. Let’s go” Philza calls before taking slow steps forward, making sure to move at a pace you were comfortable with. 

It takes much longer than it ever has to get back to the portal and back to the overworld, but no one complains about the slow pace, not even Tommy. Even the child seems to be very worried about your health and safety. Once back in the overworld, Wilbur runs ahead of you to prep. He puts a sheet over the couch so you could sit down and be taken care of without getting blood all over the cushions and blankets. Wilbur also sets up all of the medical supplies they’ll need to clean your cuts and bandage them properly. 

When you get home, Philza takes care of you. He cleans up the blood and bandages both of the cuts before giving you more food to eat. He doesn’t let you get off of the couch for many hours until he’s absolutely sure that you’re okay. He actually spends a lot of that time cuddled up next to you on the couch as well. Philza just has to hold you for a while because you really scared him. He just has to reassure himself that he in fact got there in time and that you’re safe in his arms. Philza tells you he loves you probably 30 times in the span of 5-6 hours because he just wants to make sure you know. And trust me, you do know. Not everyone would drop what they were doing to come to literal hell just to save you. But Philza did. Your dadza did. And if that doesn’t prove that he loves you, i don’t know what does. 

#mcyt #mcyt imagine #mcyt drabble #philza #philza imagine #philza drabble #technoblade #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #drabble #ray responds

[summonerscenarios]

Sin night is opened and i can't stop myself from begging for Dagon contents please can I have MC (of any gender) having a cuddle session with Ocean Man? 🥺🤲🤲🤲

Gonna get through a couple more of these before opening sin night in about an hour - so have some good ol’ Dagon drabbles in the meantime~

-------- Keeping Dagon company on the long nights where he has to stay back grading papers has quickly become a staple in your relationship. It’s always around exams time that the work starts to pile up, and even the professors at the University aren’t exempt from having to stay after hours just to ensure that everything is ready to be submitted by the deadline. You’ve long gotten used to staying behind long after the schools have let out for the day, and Dagon’s had no reservations about reminding you how much he enjoys the company when you do stay behind with him. You’re comfortable just biding your time in his company till he’s finished the work for the day, and this time is no different. 

The lecture hall doesn’t have any windows, but if you were to hazard a guess you were sure the sun had long set by now. From above you, you can hear Dagon muse something under his breath as he makes notes on the paper he’s currently marking, the scrawl of his pen proving to be a surprisingly lulling sound from your position perched in his lap. You take a moment to glance up at his face, admiring the way his expression focuses when he’s picked something new from the page, before moving your attention elsewhere.

Resting your head against Dagon’s chest, you busy yourself fiddling with his necklace, fingers dancing up and down the chain links only pausing to admire the small metal pillar hanging from the centre. After a moment or two longer of tracing the grooves etched into the necklace you allow your hands to continue wandering, looking for the next thing to keep your attention. Eventually you find yourself playing with the unfastened buttons of his shirt, toying the small purple buttons between your fingers; he keeps so many of them undone it’s a wonder why he wears a shirt at all, maybe for the aesthetic? Or perhaps another professor just chewed him out about the dress code.

The thought has you biting back a giggle, a noise that doesn’t go unnoticed when you feel Dagon shift in his seat, momentarily pulling himself away from his work. A hand pulls away from the desk to wrap around your wrist, guiding it up above your head; your head tilts up in response, chin still pressed to his chest as you watch him bring your hand up to his face, lips coming to press against your palm. He watches you flush, heart skipping a beat as a bashful smile rises to your lips in response. The sight makes him chuckle, and the noise vibrates against you from deep within his chest, apparently pleased by your reaction

His lips continue to pepper kisses, mouth pressing to the pads of each finger tip giving each digit of your hand his attention as the hand gripping your wrist gives you a gentle squeeze. His eyes never leave yours, and you feel him smile against your skin when your own eyes dart away under the intensity of his gaze. Eventually, Dagon guides your hand back down before releasing his grip, reaching up to brush his knuckles against your cheek and moving to cup the side of your face when you tilt your head. 

The palm of his hand is warm to the touch, and for a beat you allow your eyes to flutter to a close as you lean into him, humming as you nose affectionately at the calloused skin. From the corner of your eye, Dagon’s expression notably softens and he trails his thumb across the bridge of your nose, coaxing you to move till your attention is fully focused back onto his face again. When Dagon murmurs your name you let out another hum, however your planned response is swiftly silenced by a kiss, lips pressing firm against your own. Just like that you just about melt into the kiss, the hands on his chest gently curling into his shirt as you lean into him, returning the affection as best you can. 

His kisses are always all encompassing, and even as gentle as he is there’s a greedy need behind them, hungrily seeking out and and all noises he can get from you until your head is spinning at the attention. It’s easy to get lost in them, even as he mutters sweet words against your mouth and parts your lips with his tongue, and before long you’re breathless and gasping, but even then he goes in for just a few more kisses.

Dagon only relents when you let out a whine against his lips, and when he moves to pull away his teeth worry at your lower lip just a second longer before fully breaking away. You look momentarily dazed, lips still parted before you catch yourself and huff, an action betrayed only by the giddy smile that rises to your face. That only gains another chuckle out of him and Dagon leans back down, this time to press a kiss to your forehead that is notably more chaste than the last one. 

You let out another huff when he pulls away this time, as even with the little moment shared you know he’s still got paperwork to get back to when you catch him looking back at his desk. While his attention turns back to his work he moves to pick the pen back up, however, the hand still cupping your cheek gradually slides downwards to rest against the small of your back, the flat of his hand rubbing broad circles that soon have you going lax in his lap all over again. You let your head drop to rest against him, burying your face into the crook of his neck with a content sight, listening to the sound of pen once again scratching once again scrawling across paper.

#Anonymous #request #ask #sin night #housamo #tokyo afterschool summoners #imagines #housamo imagine #scenario #housamo scenario #dagon #housamo dagon

[crystalirises]

i am completely in love with your harry potter au, got any more crumbs? maybe some young georgebur falling in love? maybe some george x revivebur reunion?

(2/2) oh also I have this hc that not only did wilbur trust george with the hufflepuff cup horcrux just like bellatrix, but that he also made george's wedding ring into the ring horcrux (yk the one that poisoned dumbledors hand? except this one wouldn't be cursed obviously) so george would always have a piece of his husbands soul with him wherever he goes :,( <3 this is way to romantic in my head considering the fact that you have to murder someone and literally split your soul in half to create a horcrux🤦

hello! So this might not be exactly what you wanted cause I kinda like...

You know when you want to write but you're like... nah, I'm tired?

Yeah I'm currently going through that XD. My second year in college is starting next week so I've been busy with enlistment of classes and stuff. I did do something about this (along with other stuff cause I couldn't help myself and someone else asked before if I could make like a second prompt for what happens to Fundy after he got obliviated).

So yeah, this is like ten parts of drabbles that take place in this AU. Sorry if this isn't what you wanted. I'm very sorry.

Fair warning, some parts are dark cause... Georgebur are the villains and well they win and this is a Harry Potter AU, y'all know the villain, y'all know what his agenda is.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31985884/chapters/82666897

I. First Meeting

“You’re all bark, Mr. Soot.”

He stopped, one foot already at the top of the stairs. Wilbur threw a careless glance back.

And, oh, he was glad he looked back. There were many students within Slytherin, and he only recalled the most interesting ones. George Lore had always been very intriguing. “How so?”

“You’re charming, but I’ve seen your… skills. You’re not very sharp.”

Wilbur laughed, moving back down the stairs to where George waited. He’ll show him sharp.

.

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II. Expelled

“George Lore, the only man I will ever love, I believe this is where we part ways—”

“Wilbur, please keep your mouth shut and assist me with my luggage.” Of all the replies, Wilbur did not expect that. He glanced behind George where a bunch of suitcases waited eagerly to board the boat that would lead them back to the train station. Wilbur was stricken. When they’d expelled him for the murder of some… honestly, he wasn’t quite sure who he had murdered - some nobody mudblood, that was all… one, he had expected George to track him down just for the sake of lecturing him on his stupidity. Yet it seemed, that wasn’t the case. “Well, Wilbur? What do you say? Do we head home to your family’s manor or to mine? Either works for me.”

“Love, as much as I would love for you to stay at my home, what are you… huh?” George rolled his eyes, huffing before finally placing his bags on the boat, muttering on how useless Wilbur was and how he really was just charms and good looks. Not to be upstaged, Wilbur immediately took over, carrying George’s heavy bags onto the boat despite his confusion. He bit the bottom of his lip, watching as George stepped on board, sitting down as he waited for Wilbur to get his own bags into the boat. “Don’t tell me you’ve snuck out. Think of your grades, love, you care so—”

“I care more for you than some school who accepted those filthy mudbloods in the first place.”

Wilbur smiled, “And that’s why I love you. Whoever I killed, they had it coming.”

.

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III. Isolation

George was growing tired of the same dingy walls.

He never thought he’d end up in Azkaban, but fate tends to surprise you.

They trapped him in there, thinking that the dementors would drive him to the brink of madness.

He’d be damned if they were to devour his happiness. His husband was dead, and so was their son. There was no happiness in his mind, and he could not bring himself to hope. Hope meant food for those damned abominations. He’d keep his thoughts and his emotions kept under lock and key. He won’t let them take what was left of what he remembers of Wilbur and their child.

He refuses to lose them again. Not again.

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IV. Loss

He wasn’t an orphan, but now he felt like he was.

Fundy rushed out of the house, hands wet with sweat despite the cold and rainy weather of London. His bag dragged across the pavement, his shoes splashing against the murky puddles. He didn’t dare to turn back, he couldn’t. Dream and Sapnap would be devastated if they knew what he had done, but Fundy couldn’t stay and endanger his parents any longer. He loved them, they were the best parents a kid could ever ask for. But Sally and Jared Salmon would be better off thinking that they never had a son and that their lifelong dream was to move to the Netherlands. Fundy walked faster, scared that he’d turn back the longer he stayed near the house.

He could feel the tears gathering in his eyes, but Fundy knew he needed to be strong. Sapnap and Dream needed him to be strong. They’ve all lost too much. He won’t cry until the war is over.

Who knows? Maybe he’ll actually like living in the wizarding world.

He just wished it didn’t have to come with the cost of his parents forgetting he ever even existed.

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V. Wedding Ring

George found it to be quite amusing, honestly.

You would think that the Order would know better. Incompetent fools, all of them.

He admired the ring on his finger, a small smile on his face. When they’d dragged him away to Azkaban, they had given him the mercy of leaving the wedding ring that Wilbur had proposed to him with. It was hilarious, if only they had known that they had been looking at a horcrux.

His husband’s horcrux. He shook his head, gazing over at the man who stood at the head of the war table. A map of Hogwarts laid on the surface, his husband’s focused gaze nearly covered by his curly, dark chocolate brown hair. He’d join in on the brainstorming once Wilbur had gained a bit of a plan. While George did adore his husband… he was more the charms than the brains.

For now, he keeps a part of his love’s soul close to his heart.

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VI. Knitting Habits

He’s never held a knitting needle before in his life, but he can’t say that knitting wasn’t fun.

“I never thought I’d see the day. You’re getting old, love. Should I get you a rocking chair too?”

George threw a ball of yarn towards Wilbur, eliciting a laugh as it hit Wilbur directly on the face.

“Ever the humorist, Wil. It would be funny if it wasn’t coming from a man who literally came back from the dead and looks decayed.” He sighed, leaning against the wall of the alcove. Wilbur was still mulling over their plans, a crease in his forehead. “I’m making a scarf for our little son.”

Now here’s to hoping that Fundy would like it. George did do it with the colors of their family.

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VII. Home

He trembled, the effects of the spell washing over him like a pile of snow.

George was whispering into his ear, but Fundy couldn’t hear him over the sound of his own breathing. Dream was dead, Sapnap got hit by a crucio spell, and George was taking him back to be tortured all over again. He continued to shiver, tears pouring past his cheeks no matter how hard he tried to keep himself from crying. The world around them melted back into existence, but all he could feel was his heart beating loudly in his chest and the arms wrapped around him.

“Shh, shhh, you’re alright, sweetheart.”

His captor pulled him along, keeping an arm wrapped around his shoulders, squeezing him every now and then each time he tried to put a bit of distance between them. He was led inside a room, and from the way it looked, Fundy could tell it wasn’t an ordinary guest room. It felt too lived-in, too personal. George led him to sit on the edge of the bed, gently petting his messy and dirty hair.

“It’s alright, Fundy. You’re home with dads now.”

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VIII. Scarf

Fundy scowled, the scarf somehow tight against his neck despite it practically falling off.

He felt George adjust it back around him, fussing over him like he was a child and not some captive that they’ve been keeping locked inside their room. Fundy knew he wasn’t the tallest, his best friends already joke - well, they used to - about it, but George was just a foot taller and still he somehow felt even smaller. He huffed, moving away until his back was against the wall of the alcove. George didn’t make a move to follow him, simply sighing before turning back to Wilbur.

He buried his face against the scarf, trying to bring himself comfort.

If he tried hard enough, he could catch the faint scent of ash and black licorice. Sapnap had worn the scarf at some point during the battle since he thought it looked comfortable to wear. Fundy had given it to him since he didn’t know where it came from and it had been too big for him.

What he’d give to go back to that time, instead of clinging to the fading scent of his best friend.

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IX. Very Dark Blue Eyes

There was a stranger in his room.

Fundy nervously fiddled with the end of his scarf. His wand was still on the nightstand where he had left it, and the stranger was blocking his way. He’d barely seen anyone for the past few months aside from his dads, but he could already tell who the stranger was. The stranger was his age and had long black hair falling past his shoulders. Fundy knew he was a Halo immediately.

“Holy shit… Fundy! Finally, I’ve been scouting the fucking grounds for hours! This place has terrible security, well except for the wards but they were easy to break.” The stranger rambled on and on, each word striking Fundy with more confusion. He wasn’t sure why he was acting like they knew each other. Fundy had no friends - aside from his Uncle Tommy but Uncle Tommy was awkward around him - so he wouldn’t know the stranger, especially since they were a Halo of all things. The stranger moved closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “I missed you!”

“Who are you?” He moved away from the stranger’s hold, avoiding the stricken look that the stranger was giving him. Fundy scowled. Of all the times to leave his wand where he couldn’t reach it. “I know you’re one of those… Halos at least. Now, how did you get inside my room?!”

“Fundy…” Very dark blue eyes gazed at him, hurt dancing in their stare. “It’s me, Sapnap…”

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X. You’re a Wizard, Fundy

The letter came at some point during the night.

His mama had asked his papa if he’d enrolled Fundy in a faraway school by accident, but papa had said that he hadn’t. They were whispering about it during breakfast, throwing glances at him every so often as though they didn’t want him to hear. He pretended not to care, attention focused on his breakfast. Mama and papa weren’t arguing, but it almost felt like they were. He hoped that their conversation would be over soon, but it continued even after Fundy finished his breakfast. He left his plate on the table before walking out of the dining room and into the hall. Mama and papa didn’t seem to even notice that he had left. Now to find what was the problem.

He found the problem all too quickly, his scavenger hunt cut short by the fancy letter that had been left on top of a table in the hallway. Fundy held the letter in his hand, the paper coarser than most that he’d felt. He knew he shouldn’t be snooping, but his mama and papa never talked about something so incessantly, at least not something about him. He snuck back into his room, the letter clutched in his hand. Maybe he’d failed his entrance exam at the school his parents were enrolling him in? He pouted, but he’d studied so hard for it and it had been so easy for him!

Fundy didn’t know why his hands trembled as he tried to pull the letter open. Mama had folded it back to the way it had been, and he couldn’t really see the trace of ink at the back. A part of him wanted to hide it away, maybe then mama and papa would stop worrying about it. He didn’t know why, but a part of him felt like something was about to end the moment he opened the letter. He took a deep breath. He could handle long hours of studying, even though his mama and papa said it wasn’t healthy for him to stay up so late. He could handle what was inside the letter. With shaking hands, he opened it, scanning the life-changing words that were meant for him.

If he only knew what that letter meant at the time, then maybe he would have just burned it.

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