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brucebocchi · 1 month

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Winter 2024 anime roundup, Pt. 1: Ongoing/returning shows and the trash heap

hey y'all, this is also up on my ko-fi! it's free to read both here and there, but i'm struggling financially rn so i could appreciate if you'd throw a few bucks my way if you liked it!

I wasn't expecting to watch nearly this much anime in just the past three months, but life completely failed at getting in the way. So here's everything I either watched or tried to watch for the Winter 2024 season, and a short review for each.

I'm not going to bother with trying to rank them, so instead they're sorted by category, as follows:

Continuing series from Fall 2023

Returning series

What I dropped

Mixed reactions

On hold

New series that are actually good

With this first entry, I'll be covering the first three, with the back half arriving in another couple of days. As with the 2023 rankings, the OP for each show is linked in the corresponding title.

Here we go.

Ongoing shows:

The Apothecary Diaries

Looking back at my 2023 rankings, I think my placement of The Apothecary Diaries’ first cour at #11 may have belied how much I love this show and believe it to truly be one of last year’s greats. If anything, it was hampered by its status as an ongoing show making it incomplete by nature, and I worried myself over the possibility of recency bias taking over my top ten (Frieren is in the same boat, so its top overall ranking should really highlight how damn good it is). Make no mistake, though: The Apothecary Diaries fucking rocks, and it continues to fucking rock.

It’s largely more of the same, and that’s what you would want from another cour of this show. At the same time, though, more and more is uncovered about Maomao’s background and Jinshi’s status as the proverbial camera continues to pull back and the mysteries adorning the edges of the frame become clearer. I got a sense at the end of the Fall 2023 cour that the show was moving on from its episodic nature into something more serial and plot-driven, and I was mostly right: While several episodes of the Winter cour still revolve around various mysteries of the week, they all start to converge before you even realize it. It’s the same flywheel-effect approach to plot development that Kaguya-sama did so well: While so many of the events seem like one-off curiosities in the moment, these almost-imperceptible movements eventually barrel forward into an unexpected but perfectly logical momentum. The show teases out several plot threads that may not seem relevant at first, and it trusts you to be patient enough to see them play out.

I’m not at all exaggerating when I say that, along with the next entry on this list, The Apothecary Diaries is one of the best anime of the past five years. I had a feeling that this could end up being the case as 2023 came to a close, but I’m sure of it now. Watch this show.

Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End

Last year’s best anime continues apace into 2024 as we get an honest-to-goodness story arc: Frieren, who has been around too long to bother taking any magical governing bodies seriously, needs a certification as a mage in order to continue on the party’s journey north. She decides to take the necessary exam to be certified as a First-Class Mage, a rarefied status in this world, and has Fern tag along to do the same.

And it’s still incredible! Great action, brilliant animation, wonderful character moments, and a beautiful score. It is still the top-rated anime ever on MyAnimeList, and by a significant margin. I’m not sure I agree, necessarily, but I can say with all sincerity that this has been a perfect season of television and my Fridays now feel empty without it.

That’s all I’ve got on this one. What else do you want from me? I’ve already written nearly 2000 words about this show alone since it premiered. You’re asking me for more? I’ll kill you.

Shangri-La Frontier

If the low placement on my 2023 list was any indication, I was pretty fed up with Shangri-La Frontier by the end of its first cour, and the first couple episodes of 2024 being little more than plot set-up had me teetering on the edge of dropping it entirely. But I’ll be damned if it didn’t start reeling me back in once shit actually started happening and the plot really began to move forward.

Well, for a bit, at least. The height of the series so far has been the Wethermon arc, in which Sunraku teams up with his fellow shit-gamers, Pencilgon and Katzo, as they vie to be the first to take down a notoriously difficult unique boss. As the fight plays out, we get to see the feeling-out process of a tough action-RPG boss, rife with attack pattern memorization, skill timing, and buff stacking as the margin for error grows ever thinner. As always, the animation is on point, the soundtrack rules, and the action sequences are exhilarating.

But my major gripe with the series remains: There’s hardly any actual story here, even after 25 episodes. There are broad gestures towards a larger plot (“the truth of this world,” as the NPCs call it), but they are too vague to even resemble anything enticing. Everything in between the major fights is just set dressing, and there’s a lot of in between. There’s decent stuff in there, to be fair; the adorable rabbit NPCs are always a delight, and I love the commitment to depicting our top-level gamers as smug, preening shitheels. These are long walks for short drinks of water, though, and much of the main cast isn’t likable enough to make the downtime tolerable, to the point where watching the many set-up episodes feels like more of a grind than the actual grinding in the show. Even in the fight sequences I still had moments where I found myself yelling “STOP TALKING ALREADY” at the screen. Internal monologues are a constant in battle shonen, I know, but if there’s any demographic whose internal monologues I want to hear the least, it’s gamers.

I kept watching this show despite myself, and six months later I’m still not sure how much I actually enjoy it. I haven’t seen any of the lousy VRMMO anime that people favorably compare it to, so at least it isn’t Sword Art Online. Yay, I guess? Yet here I am, still plugging away at a show I can’t strongly recommend to a lot of people. Shangri-La Frontier has turned me into a Steam reviewer.

Undead Unluck

The stakes continue to rise exponentially in one of last year’s more underrated shonen hits (or it would’ve been a hit if Disney gave a fuck about marketing the anime on its own platforms). The Union neutralizes a threat, gains a new Roundtable member, and then shit hits the fan.

The scope of this series goes into absolutely buckwild directions, and all I will say is that “Kimi no Todoke predicting the future” was not a piece of worldbuilding I would have ever expected. But at the same time, it never loses focus on the human element, which only gets more poignant as it goes on. There’s a really beautiful message in the last arc about how people can live on through the memories of others, well past their bodies dying, which hits nice and hard considering this season aired at the same time as Frieren.

This is a show that I tended to watch sporadically (because I just plain forget to open Hulu just to watch one show every week), and I would say that it was the ideal way to watch it, except the pacing issues from the first cour only got worse during a monumentally consequential sequence in the middle of the second. There was an episode that had, I shit you not, 90 seconds of new content in the first seven minutes of runtime, and at the exact point in the series when you’re salivating for something, anything new. In a season where so much goes on in just 24 episodes, I’m baffled that they felt the need to pad the runtime so much.

That’s the worst of it, though, and the momentum fortunately builds up from there and barrels downhill until the end. The story becomes incredibly meta, which was a very ballsy move for a Shonen Jump series that was still relatively early into its run. The gamble pays off, though, and the debut season ends on several incredibly strong episodes, and now I want more. I’ll be hopping on the manga soon.

It also struck me towards the end of the season just how goddamn cute everyone looks. For all of the spraying blood and grim marching towards Armageddon, it says a lot that I still wanna pinch everyone’s fat little cheeks.

Returning shows:

The Dangers in My Heart, season 2

The first season was absent in my 2023 rankings but I decided to pick it up while the second was still airing, and I’m so glad I did: The Dangers in My Heart is an almost-too-precious middle school romance that is endlessly endearing and bluntly honest (if a little exploitative) about what middle schoolers are actually like, warts and all. Insecurities are amplified, they struggle to figure out their identities, and mental and physical development runs on different schedules from one kid to the next. And amidst all this raging hormonal nonsense, we have ourselves a lovely little romance story.

Kyotaro has (mostly) kicked his chuuni tendencies and realized that he’s madly in love with the beautiful, cheery Anna. He’s as aware as anyone of what a mismatched couple they’d be, though, and continues to self-sabotage any progress in the name of maintaining her good social standing. To pile onto his loner’s perspective of middle school politics, Kyotaro also gets a front-row seat to Anna’s part-time work as a model-slash-actress and he wonders if an underdeveloped shrimp like him should be anywhere near someone so obviously more mature. At the same time, though, he’s a growing boy, and we see lovely moments of progress as Kyotaro takes initiative both for her sake and to achieve what he wants. To both ameliorate and complicate these situations, Anna reciprocates his feelings towards her, and we creep ever closer towards what we want to see, in increasingly awkward and precious fashion.

So much of this anime is just gorgeous. Even setting aside the visuals and music (which are on point at all times), there are really lovely themes in here about insecurity, teenage perception of maturity, and self acceptance. On top of all of that, though, this is just a delightful slice-of-life romance story. You can probably guess where we’ve ended up by the end of the second season, but it’s the getting there that makes it all worth it. The manga is still running (and I plan to pick it up), so there’s clearly plenty more of the story to tell, but if this is where the anime ends, it ended perfectly.

Holy shit, though, did the first season really air at the same time as Skip and Loafer and Insomniacs After School? Dentists must have made a mint that season because every single one of these shows is so unrelentingly sweet that my teeth start to itch. Not that I’m complaining.

Mashle: Magic and Muscles, season 2

I honestly think I might’ve been too hard on Mashle in my 2023 rankings. I gave up on it a few episodes in when it’d initially aired, but I eventually came back to finish out the season and ended up having a pretty good time. I’ll cop to having forgotten that latter part when I mapped out those rankings, but that enjoyment quickly came back to me when I picked up season 2... even if the season begins with a ton of table setting.

Plenty of battle shonen take time to find their voice, both in manga and anime, and Mashle really seemed to hit its stride fairly quickly into the second season. Mash’s lack of magical quality is no longer a secret, and now magical society has to find a way to deal with it, so the series’ initial stakes are raised and Mash HAS to become a top-level sorcerer lest he lose his life. Also, the bad guys are back. Unfortunately, just as I started to genuinely appreciate the ensemble cast, most of Mash’s friends took a backseat to the larger plot (Lemon is nowhere to be seen almost all season) as the villains raise the stakes with increasingly JoJo-esque magic abilities. There’s still plenty to like, though, and some of the new characters help. Props for having an openly nonbinary character play a major role.

The music is a real highlight here; a surprising amount of hip-hop paints the backdrops during dialogue, and any show with an OP by Creepy Nuts will immediately grab my attention. "Bling-Bang-Bang-Born" actually turned into a bona fide hit single, much like Oshi no Ko's "Idol" and Jujutsu Kaisen's "SPECIALZ," and I'd say it's well earned (seriously, it fucks, please click the link above). The animation has also started to really pick up where it felt like it kept falling short in the first season as well, and I found myself looking forward to action sequences more as the season went on.

And hey, it might’ve taken 21 episodes to get there, but I finally laughed at a cream puff gag!

Urusei Yatsura (2022), season 2

I really don’t have much to say other than it’s more Urusei Yatsura, and that’s just swell. We continue the modern adaptation of the classic gag manga as the OG anime babe and her piece-of-shit “darling” get caught up in yet more bizarre hijinks. Despite the 48-episode run being touted as an “Urusei Yatsura all-stars” cherry-pick from Rumiko Takahashi’s 34-volume opus, not all of the segments hit on the same level, but the stories that last entire or even multiple episodes have been killer. Lum and Ataru, despite their myriad flaws, genuinely do care for one another, and this series is at its best when those feelings get to shine through. Takahashi remains a legend for her expert balancing of comedy and heart, and while this particular adaptation doesn’t have the built-in benefit of 300+ chapters of familiarity, those moments still feel earned.

It’s Urusei Yatsura. It’s a classic for a reason. Watch it.

Dropped:

Gushing Over Magical Girls (dropped after one episode)

For the TL;DR version, consult the image above.

All I’d heard about this show going in was that the manga it’s based on was good and that there would be boobs. I wish I’d known more than that before watching, though, because if I’d known that said boobs would belong to middle schoolers, I wouldn’t have bothered with even the one episode I did end up watching.

I was drawn in by the initial premise, too: The protagonist, the conspicuously-named Utena (who looks enough like Bernadetta from Fire Emblem that I was immediately endeared to her), is an enormous fan of the magical girls who keep her city safe, so when an adorable maho shoujo mascot approaches her with an offer, she immediately takes him up on it. As her sinister-looking (and unnecessarily revealing) costume suggests, though, Utena doesn’t get to live out her magical girl dreams; she actually got roped into—and blackmailed into keeping—a role as a villainess. The magical girl team she idolizes quickly recognizes this, and to stave off their assault, Utena is forced to summon a monster to bind them. As they continue to struggle and squeal, Utena goes further with it by ripping their clothes and spanking their bare bottoms red, because it turns out that she’s actually into this stuff, sexually. The title, it turns out, is a double entendre.

Credit where it’s due for a clever concept: On paper, this is really goddamn funny! My issue is with the execution: I don’t really care to see someone’s sexual awakening if it involves repeated violations of consent, and doubly so if I have to see nudity of ostensible middle schoolers (Japanese middle schools are the equivalent of seventh through ninth grade, so even on the older end these girls are 15 at most). After 100 Girlfriends, I thought I could handle whatever trashy bullshit any anime could throw my way, but the longer I chewed on Gushing’s premiere, the worse it sat with me. I have no intentions of playing morality police here, but I can’t bring myself to watch any more of this than I already have.

Early teenage sexuality is a very difficult subject matter to handle delicately, especially in a comedy milieu, and I can levy plenty of criticisms on that matter towards series I otherwise enjoyed, like Call of the Night and the aforementioned Dangers in My Heart. And although there appear to be some coming-of-age elements here, Gushing doesn’t seem interested in handling it without being exploitative. Maybe it gets better, but I don’t really plan to find out for myself.

I just feel like it’s a shame that in a season with some actual halfway decent LGBT representation, the breakout yuri hit is about middle schoolers performing dubiously-consensual BDSM on each other. And maybe that speaks to something for some sapphic viewers, and I have no intention of speaking over them, but I do know that this isn’t for me. I would’ve gone fucking feral over this show when I was like 13, but I haven’t been a 13-year-old boy for a long, long time.

I may not have a leg to stand on here as someone who watches Mushoku Tensei (although frankly, that one’s on strike two with me), but I have to put my foot down somewhere. For me, that “somewhere” is borderline pornography involving 13-15 year olds. I try to meet media where it is, even the squicky stuff, but I cannot put myself at the level Gushing Over Magical Girls sets for itself.

Sasaki and Peeps (dropped after eight episodes)

This show is frustrating to even process postmortem. After a mildly intriguing hour-long premiere that introduced a whole lot of concurrent concepts, Sasaki and Peeps somehow managed to not only continue heaping new ideas onto the pile, but also fumble every single one of them in a way that wasn’t even entertaining to watch.

Sasaki, a lonely 40-something salaryman of modest means, decides that instead of living vicariously through adorable animal photos on social media, he should pull the trigger and get a pet of his own. He settles on a reasonably-priced and suitably adorable fat little Java sparrow, who as it turns out speaks human language and is actually named Piercarlo the Starsage (Sasaki settles on Pii-chan, or Peeps in English). The bird was reincarnated from another world, where he is able to take Sasaki at will, and the man realizes he can use the other world’s relative dearth of technology to his advantage and sets up an interdimensional trade full time so he can make coin on his own watch and help Peeps try the delicious beef he heard is the best food in Sasaki’s world. To the latter end, he also invests in a restaurant. Peeps also helps teach him magic, which Sasaki is forced to use in a pinch in the real world. He is quickly found out and gets roped into a secret government bureau of psychics, because the agent who caught him using ice magic decides he’d be a perfect complement to her water powers (think Kanne and Lawine from Frieren, but stupider). Sasaki now has to balance these multiple lives, which hardly ever interact with one another, as the stakes rise in Peeps’ world in the form of palace intrigue and in Sasaki’s world in the form of a growing threat of evil psychics or something. Also, there’s magical girls, because why the fuck not at this point.

If you actually managed to process all that and went “wow, that’s a lot, I wonder how they can tie all that together,” it brings me no pleasure to report that Sasaki and Peeps completely fails at that task. This is a work of fiction with entirely too many ideas, to the point where it feels like it has no ideas. There’s a saying in football that a team with two quarterbacks is a team with no quarterback, and Sasaki and Peeps has, like, six on its depth chart. You ever hear a band that managed to cram multiple genres in the same song and you get whiplash every time it switches up? Those are bands with a lot of influences, but no identity to call their own, and that is Sasaki and Peeps to me. It is the Twenty One Pilots of anime. A lot of shit got thrown at the wall, and none of it stuck: This show, conceptually, is shit-stained drywall with a pile of turds adorning the moulding.

For a show about a 40-year-old man, it gave me serious pause that there was not a single named adult woman in any of the episodes I watched, and I grew even more frustrated waiting for one to show up. Sasaki’s partner, Hoshizaki, seems to be a driven, professional young woman, but it turns out she’s a 16 year old high school student, for some reason. The daughter of the viscount doing business with Sasaki is a young girl who likes to tag along with him, and Sasaki’s neighbor is a latchkey high school girl who may or may not have a yandere-ish fixation on him. The magical girl we meet is also definitely a kid. The female psychics they face off against don’t appear to be older than teenagers, though the one who appears to grow fond of him turns out to be several hundred years old, which especially gave me pause because we all know that unfortunate trope and the type of person who hides behind it. Before progressing any further, I found out that the light novel series upon which this show is based was written by someone with the pen name “Buncololi,” which told me the rest of what I needed to know.

That part made me increasingly uncomfortable, and I became less and less convinced that this show was capable of sticking the landing as it continued to pile on new, contrived ideas. This was a waste of an excellent voice cast, but more than that, a waste of time.

Tales of Wedding Rings (dropped after nine episodes)

I can’t believe how much goddamn isekai I ended up watching this season. That Tales of Wedding Rings wasn’t the worst one (see above) was a minor miracle, because boy howdy was this one a dud.

Satou is just a normal high school boy, blah blah blah, his childhood friend he’s in love with is actually a princess from another world and she has to go back to fulfill a political marriage, he follows her into the portal to pull a Benjamin Braddock. But then, gasp, the palace is under attack, so the princess (her native name is Krystal, but growing up in Japan she was known as Hime, which means… princess) instead decides to marry Satou, bestowing upon him her kingdom’s ring, which gives him powers that he uses to fight back the demons. It turns out that her ring enables him to use one elemental affinity out of five, so of course now Satou has to collect the other four to become the Ring King and save the world, and to do so he has to also marry each corresponding princess.

This is basically Tolkien’s Rings of Power but as a harem isekai with bonus nudity. What I saw of the season was basically a MacGuffin hunt that had waifus of various fantasy races attached. Fine character designs for each, to be fair, but it wasn’t enough to keep me interested. It’s funny on paper that (to paraphrase Geoff Thew) our protagonist’s power level scales with the size of his harem, but Tales didn’t do enough to make me actually care what was happening. And I wanted to! There were elf titties and I didn’t care. That’s criminal.

What makes Tales especially difficult to watch is that this show is fuck ugly. The color palette is muddy and unappealing, everyone looks uncannily shiny, and there’s a smudgy Vaseline filter over everything. The action sequences are uninspiring, the animation is lousy, and every character looks terribly off-model unless they’re naked. Watch the OP I linked if you don't believe me; that's the best of it. The aural element isn’t much better; ecchi scenes are punctuated by a Cinemax-caliber smooth jazz score that I pray was chosen ironically, and most of the show’s humor consists of “an old guy is screeching.” And if you’re wasting Shigeru Chiba’s talents on that one lousy joke, you’ve fucked up catastrophically.

What completely pushed me out of wanting to see any more of this show, though, was how hard it doubled down on the worst elements of harem anime by having Protag-kun be a wishy-washy little ninny even though he’s openly declared his love for and is literally married to Hime/Krystal. And I wanted to care about her; the narrative made me want to care about her, and her jealousy of the other princesses is warranted, but alas, the harem demands bodies. To his credit, Satou recognizes her mixed emotions and makes extra time for her to make it clear that she’s forever number one in his heart, but every single time their shared romance and emotions actually push them towards consummating their (all caps for emphasis) MARRIAGE, the show goes Rent-a-Girlfriend on us and finds a cheap excuse to ruin the moment. No thanks, I’m out. Nothing else about this show is good enough to make me wade through that shit.

Honestly, the only thing that had me coming back after my Persona 3-induced hiatus was that I wanted to see the dragon girl, and that alone was almost worth it, but there really isn’t much of a draw otherwise. There were better isekai, better romances, better fantasy settings, and even better uncensored harem shenanigans this season. I might pick this back up as the second season approaches, but I’m not in any hurry.

#anime reviews

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robinsno1lesbian · 10 months

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scissoring neighbor!robin would be so hot like can’t get ur hands off of each other.. super rushed and in the moment🤭

no because you're onto something there anon, i KNOW it... (smut below the cut, mdni!!)

your neighbor, robin, who loves to take her sweet time with you. who loves to get you right on the edge, to a point where you can feel your incoming orgasm in every cell of your body -only to leave you there. who won't stop until you're squirming and begging for her to finally make you cum. robin, who can have a whole different side too. who will make love to you slowly, with your fingers linked on the sheets while she's rocking her thigh against you. robin who needs time to fuck you. but then there are times when you simply do not have the time she requires. when you have to go out somewhere or have people coming over to her/your place. so, robin has to find a different way to make both of you feel good in the little time you have left... robin, who throws you down on the bed and practically rips your clothes off, hungry hands tearing through fabric and buttons. robin, who takes her own clothes off too, revealing soft skin and strong arms that lay beneath. robin who lifts your leg up with her hand, leaving you irritated for a moment, while she swiftly positions herself between them. and she doesn't stop there, of course not. robin, whose center suddenly presses against your own, leaving you breathless and gasping for air while the woman starts moving her hips back and forth. and you, just moaning and crying, gripping for the sheets beneath your heated body, reaching out for robin's hands while your head is spinning with pleasure. you, with all of your strength leaving you, still somehow managing to call out robin's name, over and over like a prayer. and then again robin, head dropped forward as she pants, hips moving quickly and uncoordinated. robin who knows she'll gotta do this again when you have the time, but who is also aware that you have to be quick. robin whose only mission is to make you cum against her. robin who doesn't cum until you do. who grabs your wrists and squeezes to let you know that she's close. who still manages to nod and whisper sweet praise and: "cum for me. be a good girl and cum for me, come on". robin who watches you while she fucks you, who only lets herself go once you have reached your height. robin who moans softly, who holds onto you while her cum flows out of her. robin who helps you get dressed and again afterward, who makes sure you're alright and ready. who leans in and kisses you on the cheek and whispers: "oh, we have to do this again when there are no guests on the way to come and see us, yes doll?"

#robin buckley #neighbor!robin x reader #neighbor!robin buckley #older!neighbor!robin x reader #older!neighbor!robin buckley #older!robin buckley #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley smut #robinsno1lesbian drabbles

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kmgkmg · 1 year

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I’VE ALWAYS BEEN - KIM MINGYU

word count: 1.1k... (mix of sm au and written!)

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader

synopsis: a snapshot into daily life with your bf mingyu

genre/s: fluff, non-idol!au, barista!mingyu, bf!mingyu, established relationship

warnings: none!

rating: pg

a/n: my first post for mingyu and it’s my first sm au!! titled after the song i’ve always been by mac ayres, since gyu likes lany i feel like he would like this song since it has a similar vibe.

Mingyu turns off his phone, eagerly waiting for you to finish heading up the stairs so he could bombard you with kisses. Why is a barista so unprofessional at their workplace you ask? Having his boss be his friend Jihoon was always a plus, especially when days were slower.

You take your final step up the stairs and see Mingyu sitting next to Wonwoo with the biggest grin adorn on his face. You could spot his shiny canines anywhere. Proud of the food you brought, you quickly wave the bag in the air, to which he gives you a thumbs up.

“What would I do without you Y/N?” He exaggerates, being loud enough for Wonwoo to finally notice your presence.

Wonwoo’s face becomes more relaxed as he recognizes you and laughs, “That’s why you were suddenly smiling like the Joker.”

“My smile is charismatic and sexy, nothing like the Joker.” Mingyu huffs, making room for you to sit next to him. He smoothly slides your drink to the spot in front of you, producing more anticipation of how delicious the drink will taste.

“How do you date someone so conceited Y/N?” Wonwoo asks, entertained by how his friend instantly changed when you were around.

“I mean, he isn’t lying. His smile is charismatic and sexy.” You shrug, finally taking a sip of your boyfriend’s new creation.

Mingyu loved whenever you backed him up around other people. Sure, when you were alone you typically had more sarcastic banter, but you made certain to express your love for him to others. He was happy you told him to take the love language test when you first started dating because it allowed him to learn more about himself. He could always recall his results being words of affirmation and acts of service whenever he felt giddy at your ability in expressing your feelings towards him. The way you looked out for each other by helping and no words exchanged either, just with simple ways to lift each other’s moods was another way that proved acts of service was his other love language. He waited for your feedback on the drink, but your expression said all that was needed.

Your eyes widened as you continued to sip on the drink, tapping your feet against the floor in excitement. Letting yourself swallow the sips, you turned to your boyfriend who was clearly on the edge of his seat. “Mingyu, you’ve outdone yourself again! This is my favorite drink now!”

His elated energy could be felt a mile away and you admired your boyfriend’s radiant self. Returning his question from earlier, you link your arm with his before asking, “What would I do without you?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at the lovesick couple beside him while wordlessly picking up the speed to finish his drink. It was always a mystery to him how you could still be so in love with each other after nearly six years of dating. Glancing at the two of you in your own world, he decided to break up the mood.

“Our break is ending in three minutes.” He takes the final slurp from his cup, leaving nothing but ice.

Your eyes both throw daggers at Wonwoo for his unwelcome reminder, but nevertheless soon get over it. “Well, be sure to eat your lunch when you have time!” You order Mingyu, to which he nodded in compliance.

“I will! Are you going back to our place right away?” He asks, turning his classic puppy dog eyes on.

“No, don’t worry! I have to get some work done anyway so I thought I would be productive here and we can go home together.” You state, making your boyfriend’s puppy dog eyes disappear as he starts to attack you with kisses.

“That sounds perfect!” He manages to say in between kisses.

You were beyond flustered at his PDA but still adored him. A timer on his phone goes off, alerting that his break was over and he pulls away from you with a sad expression.

“Work hard, and try proposing your flan drink for next month’s special!” You encouraged him as he solemnly started walking back to behind the counter.

“No, that drink’s reserved just for you. I’ve always been in love with you and only you get the best.” Mingyu defends, shooting one last smile at you before putting his apron back on and attending to the customers waiting.

#caratwritersclub #k-vanity #kpopccc #mingyu fluff #mingyu text #kim mingyu #seventeen #mingyu #svt #svt fluff #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #seventeen x reader #mingyu scenarios #boyfriend mingyu #svt smau #seventeen smau #mingyu oneshot #kmgkmgoriginal

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poisonpeche · 2 years

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Side to Side | Levi x You

Levi x Reader Smut | Warnings: 18+, MDNI, NSFW, Vaginal Fingering, Dacryphilia, Just being fucking filthy truly, Slight Angst, Reader is Fem Bodied, Reader is Switch, Levi is Switch, Squirting; this is my first smut piece so be gentle with me xx.

Word Count: ~3k

Art by me 🖤 Link to my Art Shop in my Tumblr Bio.

He always has a way to find you.

When you’re drowning in the details, an endless stream of thought and worry, or any other crime life seems to throw at his sweet girl. He swears if he could take you away from it all, he would. One day you won’t have to worry about bills, or survival, and this temporary struggle will all just be some frayed memory covered up by better days ahead.

He never wanted you to know the life he lived as a child and his stomach turns knowing he might be failing you through this. A decade by your side and you both got laid off within a few weeks of each other. He can’t help but curse whoever the fuck is out there for this cruel twist of fate. He doesn’t want to see you break like he did so long ago…You can’t. He won’t allow it. Not you.

Levi is keen to always bring you back. He adores you in all of your seasons and he made a promise to you to always lead you home. His patience is unyielding and never wavers for you no matter the cost. Tonight is no different.

Unlocking the door with a gentle turn of his hand, he intends to keep that promise.

He finds you sweetly nestled in the blankets of your bed. Chest rising and falling in an effort to self soothe from the difficult couple of months you’ve had adjusting to your new job in the city after you lost your dream position. Square one with less pay. You deserve so much more. When others can’t see what he sees in you, he can’t stand the delusion, the outright downplaying of your talent. He wonders if you will ever know how brave you are just by existing. Still trying to find the best in your life despite the odds. He knows how hard you try despite it all. For yourself. For him. You’re meant to have every comfort in this world and he is determined to give it all to you in time.

Carefully putting away his things in your bathroom and changing out of his clothes heavy with the burden of work, he gives you a few moments of peace before coming to your side.

A dim light is thrown throughout the room, your only company while waiting up for your partner and a chastising glow looming over you despite your best effort to keep it together. Just for another day of barely hanging on. Fighting exhaustion was futile once again, as you were swiftly swept under by sleep. Finding comfort in rest started to feel like a punishment, the guilt racking through your thoughts with relentless force…Can I find another job that pays better? Are we going to lose everything? Will we be okay? And yet, you succumb to it against your will.

But God, does it feel so good to runaway for once. Funny how your mind can be such a blessing and a curse; your constant reminder that your life is on a razor’s edge of being completely fucked and a source of blissful escapism. An image begins to form in your mind’s eye, coming into view. Delicate hands starting at your ankle, slowly grazing upwards past your soft muscle and skin daring to slow even further as they become more bold taking a more dangerous path once they hit your knee, trailing over your inner thighs.

You don’t even need to see his face to know his hands. The masterful way he builds you up before even thinking about beginning his innocent touches…until they aren’t. Maybe they weren’t ever meant to be. This is the gift he can give to you with no money, no power, or influence. He’s just a man, your man, making his way in life the same as you and he will give his mind, his body to you for as long as you’ll have him. His touch is always there even when he isn’t. That’s how deeply you cradle him in your subconscious, adoring him even through your restlessness. The love of your life.

You shift into his phantom touch, chasing an impending high, what only he can do to you.

He catches it from the corner of his eye while he’s rinsing his face from the day, droplets falling from his lashes and the black strands just above his silky undercut. An arched back, your arched back, taunting you in your sleep. He shamelessly watches on from the other side of the room, drinking you in with an amused smirk on his lips. What are you thinking about at this hour, sweet girl?

Almost as if he asked the question aloud, you respond in perfect time, “Lev’, please.”

His eyes widen in awe at the sight of you and you break your fall from the bend of your back, gently wrestling yourself to your side facing away from him. The cover falling to frame the curve of your hip, leaving you fully exposed with your back on display and your ass mocking him from afar.

“Please what, love?” He plays into your hand with a burning curiosity, softly asking in earnest. You’re still asleep, but he loves to toy with you like this. Somehow your charm and wit beam even in your half-baked haze. He loves that about you. How fiery and sharp-tongued you are, but when you’re alone with him you unravel so easily, showing him only the softest and most vulnerable parts of you. Only for him. Your self proclaimed weakness is why he fell in love with you. You are so many things, but your duality endlessly fascinates him. He is often so controlled and constant while you are passion in its purest form. Hearing you call out his name like this? He’s done. He’s already yours for the night. For every night.

He slowly walks to the bedside, now only a short distance from you as he settles down into the sheets with his feet on the floor, twisted around to face you with his hand outstretched behind him, inching closer to you. Looking over his shoulder, his gaze over your body pulls him down so naturally and effortlessly, a subconscious force; something else begins to take over.

And then, he smells it. And he knows without your clever answer. Even after ten years together, your arousal hits him through his heart like it was the first time and he visibly shudders with a deep, dark inhale to test his theory. Like he even needs to, but he’d bottle you up if he could. Eyes falling back as he rolls his neck towards you and back in disbelief with an exasperated laugh mixed with a guttural, shaky sigh. A scent like yours opens up the most primal desires inside of him, and both of your troubles begin to melt away. We will always have this while we lose it all.

He leans in fully on his side brushing his nose against the curve of your shoulder and neck, spooning you softly, listening to your labored breaths and watching his baby break apart at her own pace. What he would do to crawl inside this fantasy with you…or play a part.

As soon as you sense him there, you instinctively push your hips back with a gentle grind, a soft moan leaving your lips, and a dream that has now begun to feel deliciously real. Even on your side now alongside him, your back begins to curve, twist and arch into place, pushing you deeper into his crotch while your neck cranes further into his sharp jaw, his lips now making contact with your ear from behind.

At your gracious invitation, Levi provokes you further, giving the production in your mind the shameless direction it needs, delivering his first line so softly only for you.

“It’s okay my baby I’m here now.” Tongue gently falling forward, he licks an unbroken line up the contour of your neck to the shell of your ear, arching in tandem behind you with a tighter hold. “I know how hard you tried to wait for me.” He catches your earlobe between his teeth, laving over the bite. “You always try so hard for us love, even like this. Come back to me,” he pleads.

You sigh and twist in response to his lowered words, ass flush to his hips. The dark tint of his voice drawing you in without a fight, bringing you closer to the surface by inches, but too slow for your liking.

His left hand snakes under your arm, meeting the plush skin of your stomach, passing over your ribs, and sliding over your sternum to palm your throat so lovingly that even Levi is overwhelmed by how sweetly you accept his touch and welcome him to your bed, your home you both made together amidst it all. Together you always make something so beautiful while everything else seems to fall apart.

He encourages your head further back, so he can finally look at your face, your expression flitting between pleasure and frustration as you breech the surface of your dreams. He engulfs you in his hold, pressing you close to the warmth of his body, reaching forward to kiss the edge of your lashes. At the end of his small kiss, he slides his open mouth backwards up your cheek, teeth grazing as his breath fans out over your skin. You meet him with the intensity and instinctively drop your jaw open to unknowingly mirror him. Even sleep can’t take you out of sync with him.

His hand leaves your throat, sliding upward over the curve of your neck to hold your jaw and temple against his own, burning cheeks flush together. “Come on sweet girl, come to me. Let me see you and those eyes…I know you’re trying. I don’t want to leave you like this.” His final words sit heavily in your mind, finally rousing you from the darkest shadow of sleep with your eyes opening in a haze trying to determine if you were really free from your dream when this reality was just as lovely.

“I missed you, sweetheart.” The words drip off your tongue and always break his heart with your sincerity. You’re always so saccharine coming to, and when you use this name he feels just as pliant and tame. He doesn’t deserve it after everything he feels he has a hand in putting you through, but the selfish parts of him relish in the endearment. Maybe he could be sweet for you. Or you, for him. You always are.

“I know love…I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Never can. Don’t wan’t to.” His hand cupping your jaw drags back down your body, gripping your skin with more fervor than the gentle touches he left you with before. He moves to the hem of your panties, stopping and rolling his fingers in a small circle below your navel. You gasp softly at the abrupt end in movement, curling your body closer into Levi, grinding in a deeper swivel over his crotch in time with both of your shared breaths, hardening to the touch with each movement of your hips.

“Missed your hands on me, Levi.”

“Did you?” You nod weakly in response, at his mercy now.

“Where, love? Tell me where and I’ll give them to you.” He breathes into you, desperation edging into every word.

“No…I’ll show you instead.” He sighs out taken aback by your sudden dominance. There she is, the girl that can’t resist to lead no matter how much she may try to destroy herself with doubt. He’ll never let you no matter how hard you try at times. God he wished he could convince you even after all this time he still believes in you like the first day he met you in college when he thought you were utterly untouchable. Too good for anyone, even him.

But you’d never even dare to encourage his own insecurities. Your heart would never allow it. You’ve never made him doubt his confidence in himself, in you. He thinks about all those years ago when he first saw you. Young and so new to the world, hanging out of his passenger’s side window with your eyes closed and your head tilted back on the sill. Much like now. Exactly like now. You’re older now, but just as beautiful. Time has been as kind to you as you have been with everyone that has the pleasure of knowing you, loving you.

Your hand covers his own, fingers interlocking side to side like your bodies against each other now as they travel downward, slipping under your panties together, a moan leaving both of your lips in unison. Turning your heads towards each other, you look at one another with only pure adoration as the rest of the world falls away. It’s only you and him together now; soft moans and touches the only legacy to your name. Both sets of eyes turn downward, watching your shared movement, a silent plea.

With your hands steadfast and laced, Levi’s middle finger grazes over your clit first, and you slowly throw your head back, opening up the space for him to move forward and catch your mouth in a hungry kiss, immediately rushing into a stronger embrace through your lips alone. Teeth clash without a second thought and you both swivel your heads in the opposite direction to change the angle into a deeper, desperate kiss.

A single finger of yours lifts from his hold while your others remain locked together to meet him alongside your clit, rubbing smooth circles with him, matching his pace, sending a tremor though Levi’s body, vibrating your pussy against the lace of your underwear, the friction only drawing out more of your arousal and Levi falls apart.

“Look at you, always wanting to help, hm?” His response alone has you moaning for more of his words slipping through the cracks of his half-cocked smile. “Let me take care of you for once, my good girl.” You shake your head softly in protest and he lunges forward further, taking your nipple in his mouth rolling the plush of his lips until you’re straining against them, a pang of arousal throbs in your core. He knows he can edge you just by your chest alone, so sensitive to his touch, the movement of his tongue only heightening the sensation felt by both of your fingers on either side of your clit.

In a wordless response, you hook both of your fingers together, impatiently sinking into the velvet of your folds in tandem, slick pooling around both of your knuckles.

“Fuck, my baby’s so wet isn’t she? How long have you been like this, love? ‘M make it better for you, I promise. You waited for too long.” He says in shock while your scent permeates thickly through the air consuming his every thought. He only thinks of you now. It’s always been about you.

But this is not another moment without him you want to deny yourself of like so many that pass throughout the day apart, and you lead him further down still, fingers hooked, into your entrance that flutters while adjusting to the both of you as you thrust in together.

Gasping for dear life you manage to push him over the edge. “Make me wetter, Levi. I know you can.” Just when he thought he couldn’t take your smell teasing him senseless, your words put him into a panic as he lets out a low moan into the night air. You push him into a frenzy, hooking his fingers upward and he feels you follow suit inside of you, mimicking his every moment.

“I’ve got you love just hold onto me…Yeah, like that…I’ve been thinking about you just like this, begging for me, fucking yourself on my fingers. Using me. Wanna make you squirt on me like you did last time. Down my fucking throat, if you’ll let me,” he’s reeling with every grip around you both at his words. If he keeps talking like that you’ll scream.

He begins a slow thrust that you harmonize with so beautifully, following just behind, never leaving you without stimulation. The pads of both of your fingers brushing against each other. The pressure swells in below your stomach and you tighten around both of your movements, getting lost in your shared touch. He’s talking so close to you now, and yet you still can’t hear him over the blood rushing in your ears. Your eyes are both pinned at the movement below, breath hitching at his disgusting words.

“Do you have it in you?…How much can you give me? You give us so much baby what’s a little more…Fuck, just let me taste you again like that.”

He rubs over the soft ridges inside you, causing your muscles to swell against you both and bringing you alarmingly close at his soft taunts. You pull your finger from alongside Levi’s to relieve the pressure and bring it upwards in between yours and his lips. Without provocation, you both lunge toward the slick dripping off your finger, fighting over the last drop, tongues pushing over and past each other mixing both of your saliva in with your arousal, an obstructed kiss. But to get the last word, you shove your glistening finger into Levi’s mouth, pinning his tongue down, causing him to gag against the elixir you’ve concocted together. He pathetically attempts to curl his tongue around you while tears begin to gather on his lash line. All for you. Mine.

“You’ll get every drop once I get to taste your tears,” your jeer maims him and has him nearly biting down on your fingers lodged deep in his throat, his teeth leaving throbbing indents against the bone.

If Levi believes your smell deserves to be bottled and treasured, then his tears are your prize. How many times will you make him cry out from tonight or until the end in torment and exaltation? The anguished thought always pushes you to the edge, pushes you to crane upward and lick his tears breaking free while he hopelessly chokes on your fingers.

Their taste alone has brought a thin sheen of sweat to your skin. Sweet, salty, subtle. Just like Levi. And you want more.

As a challenge, he slips out of you trailing the remains of your dripping cunt over your inner thigh, to your side, and then hooks his hand underneath the back of your left knee, folding it upward to the ceiling and into your side, closer to him as he spoons you. Your obscenely wet cunt catching the cool air on display.

If you get his tears, he only takes in return.

“Give me your fucking pussy. I want all of you. Now.”

A loud moan escapes you in surprise while his eyes rake up and down you with his growl. He’s bolder than ever and begging to ruin you even after all this time. Promising. No matter what it takes just like every other promise he’s made and kept throughout the years. Always here to lift you from the pain of shouldering this life and all of its unpredictability, finding you and leading you out of the spiral of doubt and confusion, to your home within each other.

And you’ll let him take you. Until the end.

***

Next Chapter

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tmblrcolouredpaper · 1 year

Text

Lazy Winter Evening

Hwang Hyunjin/ Reader

Established Relationship; Domestic Fluff in Winter; Dancing, Cuddles and Kisses; Hyunjin is Whipped

wc: 1204

Hyunjin and you spent the evening together and while being tired, you didn't want to miss the chance to make him laugh.

His breath was visible in the cold air and with every deep exhale he built tiny clouds that raised up to the night sky, cradling the the soft light of the stars. The sounds of the city around you were muffled in the the distance and the water of the sea next to you covered with a thin layer of ice. You surrounding seemed frozen in its entirely, no people wandering around the small park but Hyunjin and you and the birds were in deep sleep, not announcing any kind of chirping melodies, as well as the wind that was completely absent and left the air in a crisp cold and calm state.

`We could go to the movies?`, Hyunjin suggested and lazily followed the sandy road between the grass fields, his hands stuffed in his puffer jacket and his beanie hanging on his head, tilted and in danger of falling. You walked in front of him and caused him to stopping his steps, only for you to reach up to his head to fix his headgear, making sure that his ears were again well protected from the cold.

`At this time?`, you questioned and wondered if you were right guessing that it must have been around 11 pm.

`Why not?`, Hyunjin asked and pulled you next to him, linking his arm with yours and continued walking on the hardened sand.

`I don’t really want to.`, you answered and thought if you really had to do something right now. You were happy with just being lazy with him right now.

`We could get snacks and watch a movie at home.`, Hyunjin continued and walked to the edge of the park, ready to leave and walk in the echoey streets.

`How can you be so energized at this time?, you sighed and leaned your head against his arm and closed your eyes for a few seconds.

`I’m not?`, he questioned in surprise and stopped walking again to look down at you, a smile appearing on his face when he realized that you were tired.

`Probably more than you, hm? Let’s just go home and lay down.`, he said and you nodded, ruffling your head agains his jacket while doing so.

* The second the door closed behind you, Hyunjin turned on the music on his phone, took off his shoes and started dancing sillily through the room, taking off his jacket and messily throwing it in the corner. He continued swaying back and forth when he approached you to pull your jacket off your shoulders to do the same to it.

You kicked your shoes off and quickly found yourself holding Hyunjin’s hands, swinging your arms left and right with his while shaking your head in joy to the upbeat song that sounded. He threw his head back and laughed wholeheartedly and once you jumped around like a little child with the essence of being convinced to be in a serious dance competition, giving one’s all to be the best dancer to ever exist, Hyunjin couldn’t maintain his composure and let his body sink onto the floor, hitting his thighs repeatedly in a loud laughter, almost crying when looking at your silly performance. You ended it with the most idiotic pose you could think of and broke down laughing next to him.

You calmed down after a while, but the moment you two made eye contact again you couldn’t escape another session of laughters. Hyunjin pulled you on his lap and threw his arms around you, squeezing you close, still laughing, but you eventually managed to be so out of breath that you silently, chests heaving in catching the necessary air, rested against each other.

`I love you so much.`, Hyunjin whispered and chuckled, thinking of your incredible performance that he just got to enjoy. He caressed your nape gently and had his chin on your shoulder, while your legs cradled his waist, your head nuzzled in crock of his neck with your hands holding onto his shoulders.

`I can take over your job now with my amazing dance skills.`, you bragged and pecked his jaw before you leaned back to face him.

`Oh, that’s why you’re with me? To steal my job?`, he gasped in faked surprise of the revelation, his hand slowly moving up and down your sides.

`Yes. I needed to learn from the best first to be prepared to apply confidently.`, you explained and Hyunjin wheezed, `So, this was what you learned from me?`, while looking down, eyes widened in disbelief.

`Did you see my immaculate isolations and the overall flow I maintained? PER.FEC.TION.`, you recapitulate and emphasized your words with big gestured.

`I think you’re already in dreamland and lost all abilities to have a realistic perception of yourself.`, he chuckled and tapped your hips to signal you to stand up. You did as instructed and took his hands to pull him up when he was still waiting on the floor when you already towered over him. You wanted to let go once he was standing, but he kept your hands in his, caressing your nuckle with the tip of his fingers, his eyes looking at yours as if he was searching for something in them.

You involuntarily closed your eyes and turned your head to the side, a big yawn overcame you and tears of tiredness drowned your eyes.

`No need to cry, you’re my favorite dancer after all.`, Hyunjin smiled and nodded towards the bedroom.

There was no need to change into more comfortable clothes since you went on the little walk already wearing the laziest sunday-evening-outfit possible, so you just crawled under the blanket without thinking twice, pulling the big blanket aside to give Hyunjin’s side free or him to easily lay down. He took off his hoodie, leaving him in joggers and a shirt and settled next to you, grabbing the blanket to pull it over him, causing it to uncover you partly. You groaned in annoyance and robbed close to Hyunjin who immediately adjusted the fluffy fabric.

`I’m still convinced that we should use two blankets when sleeping together.`, you grumbled and curled into his body.

`You are convinced of a lot of nonsense.`, he replied and gave you a long kiss on your forehead.

`I keep stealing the blanket throughout every night. You must be annoyed by now.`, you reminded and felt him humming into the pillow in relieved relaxation.

`Just gives me an excuse to be close to you for hours to stay warm.`, he mumbled and waited for your response, but only felt your rhythmic breath against him and found you asleep in his arms. He finalized his position that was comfortable for him yet gave him the perfect view on your face pressed against him and let his fingers gently dance over your cheeks and jaw.

`Loveyou, Hynjn.`, you mumbled quietly and unconsciously tilted your head to the side to press your lips against him, clumsily nuzzling back into your previous position with a deep sigh, leaving Hyunjin with an inevitable smile and the feeling of warmth expanding in his chest that made him believe that it must have actually been a warm summer day that he experienced this evening.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines

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daisydaisybilly · 5 months

Text

to love is to destroy | h.a | one

pairing: Haymitch x Giselle Carmine (oc)

summary: the games don’t end at the sound of the last cannon, they don’t end at all

warnings: cannon hunger’s violence mentions, alcohol use and mentions of vomiting, angst, fluff and swearing

word count: 1k

a/n: I hope this is at least half decent and someone enjoys it

one

HUNGER GAMES MASTERLIST

Katniss thought of how little of a chance the tribute of 12 had. Haymitch who was always drunk and Gisella, the heart of stone. . Each reaping she arrived beautifully dressed and detached.

The ever happy Effie Trinket had led them through the train and to the dining cart. Haymitch was nowhere to be seen, and Giselle hadn’t spoken to them yet, all she did was scribble away in the notepad in front of her.

Beside her Peeta Melark, the boy with the bread. Looked as defeated as she felt.

Supper came, rich meats, green salads and thick soups, followed by chocolate cake. In the middle of the meal, Effie makes a comment on them having manners while the ones from the year before ate with their hands.

Giselle remembered feeling hunger like that, she remembered being so hungry she ate worms from the ground. Whatever was left for that skinny girl from the steam, eat the rest of her food with her clean manicured hands.

When the food had been cleared away and Effie had trodden off to watch the news, Giselle closed her notepad hard, causing the two tributes to look up. “We should talk plans,” she said, tapping the table. Peeta looked to Katniss , then the door and finally back to his mentor, “Shouldn’t we wait for Haymitch?”.

She pressed her lips together hard, then spoke. “Haymitch won’t be…..be ready until morning ... .maybe the afternoon”.

“He doesn’t care enough to join us?” Katniss asked.

“Or is he too drunk to join us?” Peeta followed up with.

The mentor stared at them both, they were both holding back laughs, she was frowning. “Haymitch will hopefully join us tomorrow. If you’d like to drag him from the bar go ahead, I gave up trying that years ago”.

“I miss supper?” Haymitch wobbles his way into the cart, he frowns at the empty table. Katniss and Peeta still hold in their laughs. Then he vomits onto the floor, falling into the mess.

She drops her head into her hands and sighs, when she looks up, Katniss and Peeta are hauling Haymitch to his feet. He slurs something she can’t make out. “STOP” she yells, running after them, “I’ll take him”. She throws his arm over her shoulder, balancing out the new weight. He hides his head in her hair, his breath trickling her neck, Katniss and Peeta look at them blushed and confused.

In all the years of watching the games they had never seen, Haymitch and Giselle so much as look at one another, even at the reaping she had looked away when he wobbled up on stage. Haymitch’s vomit soaked clothes were pressed against her clean, expensive gown. “Go on. We’ll carry this on tomorrow” she ordered them waving her hand.

Striped down in her underwear she knelt beside the tub. At first Haymitch didn’t notice the water but finally, his eyes were getting clearer and then he smiled. “Hi sweetheart”. She laughed pushing his hair back. “You’re an idiot”.

“Love you too”. He linked their fingers together, with his other hand he touched her cheek, “What are the kids like?”.

“They think you're a drunk and I’m a bitch”.

He laughed, hauling himself out of the tub, “What else?”

She shrugs, “I didn’t get to that”, she sat on the edge of the bed, “They look capable I guess”.

The train kept on, under her feet she could feel the silent engine. Every year it was the same, she tried not to care, having locked her heart away a long time ago. But once night fell it was impossible to hide away.

Haymitch got down on his knees before her, “I wish I didn’t make it” she breathed.

“I’m glad you did,” he tells her.

She smiled, touching his cheek, it had taken years for love to grow, years for them to like one another. All the softness in him had been hacked away by the time she won the games. Then she was an angry child, angry at the world from taking the only family she had left.

Eventually Giselle found a seed of softness in Haymitch and it grew until it cured the anger that had taken root in her heart.

That love could only be expressed in private, where they were safe from threats and blackmail. But here right now on the silence train, she loved him.

“flight or fight? That’s what it comes down to once you’re in the arena”

Haymitch had shown up mostly sober. Katniss and Peeta were waiting.

“If you pick flight then we need to start the narrative that you’re weak and not a threat until it’s too late. I personally think it’s a longshot but longshots have worked before”. She said.

“And fight?” Katniss asked.

“Fight” she smiled, “is where we find where your skills are and work on them . People need to know what you can do but we’ll go more into that when you’re assessed on your own”.

Old tapes showed both mentors had fought, Haymitch winning at double the odds, Giselle a skinny girl from the steam had shown fight no one expected.

When they had reached the capitol, Katniss and Peeta were sent off to be prepped, a team was waiting for Giselle too. Her curls were braided with gold ribbon into a low bun, golden paint was seamed across both eyes.

She wore a white dress shirt that reached her upper thigh, over the top she wore a golden jacket with cream lace.

When Giselle found Haymitch again, he had been bathed and dressed in a dark green suit, the colour of summer leaves. Seeing him she almost broke out into a smile but remembered who she was. The heart of stone.

Passing a waiter she picked up one glass, swallowed it whole then replaced it with a full cup.

“Haymitch” she greeted him. Victors and capitol citizens watched, possibly hoping for a fight.

“Giselle,” he nodded. “Ariadne out did herself”. She shrugged at the statement, slipping on her drink. The trumpets began to play, Haymitch held out his hand, “We can’t be late”. She gave her stiff shoulders a roll before taking his hand, “We wouldn’t want that”.

#the hunger games #thg #the hunger games fanfiction #hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x original characters #haymitch abernathy fanfiction #haymitch abernathy x oc #original character #the hunger games original character

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whatawonderfulexistence--blog · 10 months

Text

Pancakes For Dinner (Charles Greywolf x Fem! Reader) FLUFF

WARNINGS: None, nothing but fluff.

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stared down at the small cream colored envelope that sat in the drawer of your nightstand, Charles' name swirled across the front in your neat script. You breathed out a long sigh before slamming the drawer shut. You sat on the edge of your bed, dropping your head into your hands. You had been harboring feelings for him for a while. What started off as awkward greetings as you passed by each other in the hall slowly turned into something more; shy waves and smiles led to Charles asking if he could sit with you in the dining hall, you found yourself timidly knocking on his office door to ask for help with a problem you could have easily solved yourself. The time you had spent with him allowed a wonderful friendship to blossom. But through all of those gentle nudges as the two of you teased each other on your spontaneous evening strolls and late night pancake dinners in his quarters that had you laughing until you had tears in your eyes you had fallen for him. You screamed as your door burst open, your best friend's heaving shoulders filled the doorway as she struggled to catch her breath. "Mya, what the hell, are you okay?"

"Charles is back." She gasps. You froze in place, your eyes widening at the news, resisting the urge to push past her and sprint through the halls until you found him. "I figured you'd want to know so you could, oh I don't know, give him that damn letter you wrote months ago." Your eyes briefly glanced down at the drawer.

"Nevermind the stupid letter." You groan as you pull your shoes on. "Where is he?"

"He was still at the entrance the last I saw him, he was talking with Matthew and Falk." She smirks at you, slipping in one last quip before slinking away. "Have fun with your little crush." She teases. You chuckle and roll your eyes before hurrying off to find him. Your slight jog gradually slowed to a stop as your eyes landed on him. You nervously fidgeted with your fingers as you tried to figure out exactly what you were going to say to him.

"(Y/N)!" Your eyes flash up to see Charles had already realized you were there. He practically shoves past Matthew to make his way over to you. "How are you?" You notice him stoop down slightly to be closer to eye level with you, something he subconsciously did frequently when talking to you one on one. A whirlwind of emotions swirled in your chest. You weren't sure if you were going to cry or throw up. You were relieved he was back. You had missed him so terribly; the comfort he brought, the quality time you got to spend together, you missed everything about him. You quickly closed the gap between the two of you, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug.

"I'm glad you're back." You felt Charles go rigid at your touch. You were about to pull back, figuring you had crossed a line, when he crushed you against him. He was so warm, the way his strong arms squeezed around you, you felt so safe.

"I am too." He responds softly, a breathy chuckle lacing its way into his voice. The two of you reluctantly separate, Charles cleared his throat as he politely folds his arms behind his back. "I'm sorry to rush off on you but I have to go meet with Attila about my trip. Maybe…" his eyes darted away from you as he stuttered. "Maybe we could meet in the garden later? Say, around 8?" He asks nervously.

Your jaw fell slack. "Yeah." 'smooth… real smooth.' You mentally roll your eyes at your dumbfounded response. "I would love to." Charles smiles softly, his mossy green eyes finding yours.

"I'll see you at 8, then." He excuses himself, giving you one last glance over his shoulder as he heads down the corridor.

"You still haven't told him, hm?" Falk asks as he creeps up next to your shoulder.

"Father, that was something I brought up during confession, you're not supposed to bring that up." You chuckle as you glance back at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"It's just us, and it seems you could use some advice." He retorts with a laugh. "Come, sit with me for a moment Sister." He motions for you to follow him, the two of you sitting in a bench basked in the early afternoon sunlight. Falk stretched out with a sigh, enjoying the warm rays as the two of you settled. "You've known Charles for a very long time. I'm sure you know that if he somehow doesn't return your feelings it wouldn't cause him to treat you any differently."

"I know that, it's just…" you paused as you searched for the right words to say. "If he rejects me it'll all really be over, at least this way I can still live in blissful ignorance. I know it's just a silly crush but, Falk, I really like him." You stare at your hands that were neatly folded in your lap.

"You're going to have to tell him sooner or later (Y/N), you can't just live in limbo for the rest of your life." He sighs as he ponders over some advice to give you. "Whatever happened to that letter I had you write?"

"It's still in a drawer in my room." You answer honestly.

Falk places a gentle hand on your shoulder, "maybe it's time you give it to him." He gives you a soft smile before standing, leaving you to your thoughts. You knew he was right, if you just kept your feelings bottled up you'd lose it eventually. Even now you had trouble keeping your composure around him. The slightest brush of his hand against yours, the smallest compliment, all of it threatened to turn you into a flustered mess in front of him. You wandered the halls, watching as the early afternoon slowly shifted to late, the sun preparing itself to set for the evening. You decided to head to the garden a little earlier than necessary, needing some time to calm your nerves. You took a deep breath, the sweet aroma of the summer flowers filling your nose. You watched as some bumble bees buzzed around, birds sang from a nearby tree. You loved spending time in the garden, but you weren't sure if it was because of the tranquility the garden provided or if it was all the memories it held of time spent with your favorite person.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting long." You perk up at the sound of Charles' voice.

"You didn't, don't worry. I was just enjoying the flowers." You smile up at him. He stands awkwardly next to the bench. You move over, patting the space next to you for him to sit. He stiffly sits down. "How did your trip go?"

"It went well, although I do have to say it gets rather lonely traveling abroad by myself." He chuckles, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He's quiet for the moment, eyes trailing over the garden. "I missed you." He says softly.

A bashful smile spreads across your face, "I missed you too." You sit in a comfortable silence, both of you just enjoying being in each other's company again.

"Have you eaten?" You shake your head in response. "Would you like to join me for pancakes tonight?" He seemed much more confident than when he had asked you to meet him in the garden earlier. You smile brightly at him, a flustered giggle tumbling from your lips.

"That would be nice." He stands with a soft groan, offering his hand to you. He nods his head in the direction of the path that wound through the flowerbeds. Your hand hesitantly reached towards his, taking one final glance at his relaxed expression before you slipped your hand into his. He gently tugged you closer, arm linking with yours as he kept hold of your hand. The two of you walked along the gravel path, trading stories of what you had been doing during your time apart. You hadn't been up to anything exciting; taking a course with Father Roel about Germanic folklore, working in the library in the mornings, nothing really out of the ordinary. Charles had left for just about a month, working in one of the churches the Abbey had a particularly close relationship with.

"The service just doesn't feel right without seeing you roll your eyes at all my terrible jokes." He nudges you softly.

"Father Matthew's jokes don't land the same with the congregation." You tell him, your nose scrunching up like you were admitting an embarrassing secret about his brother. Charles laughs.

"Of course they don't, he has a terrible delivery." You can't help but giggle at his response. Charles looks out at the setting sun and hums, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "It's getting late, we should head in." He smiles as he guides you inside. Charles quarters always smelled of warm spices and damp earth, a smell that made your body relax. Your fingers ran over the soft yarn of the blanket that draped over the back of his old, well loved couch. The two of you stepped into his kitchen, the lights came on with the switches loud thunk. "Do you want to watch or help?" Charles asks you as he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows.

"Help." You respond confidently. "I'm sure you've had a long day, you shouldn't have to cook dinner all by yourself." The two of you stood side by side at the sink washing your hands before gathering the ingredients you needed to make pancake batter from scratch. You hummed as you measured out the dry ingredients, Charles watching you with a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. You start to mix your batter together, struggling to push around the contents of the large bowl.

"Here." He chuckles, stepping behind you. His hand engulfs the one you were using to hold the whisk, his other hand landing in your waist as he helped you. You felt your cheeks heat up at his sudden closeness, his hold on you strong yet gentle. You found yourself pressing your back into his chest, wanting to savor being this close to him. "Perfect." He smiles down at you before stepping away. He grabs the bowl, bringing it over to the skillet he had prepared on the stove. Charles' pancakes came out perfectly golden brown every time without fail, flipping them high in the air and having them land with a loud thwap in the skillet. "Plate of pancakes for you, beautiful." His eyes widened slightly as the nickname he had only been thinking about slipped out into the open.

"Why thank you, handsome." You respond with a giggle. The two of you take your plates and go and sit on the small patio off of his quarters. The chirps of crickets filled the air as Charles effortlessly got a fire started in the fire pit. He collapses next to you with a groan, the two of you eating in a comfortable silence. You let your head fall to rest against his shoulder. "These are delicious." You mumble, your mouth stuffed full of the fluffy pastry. You finish your plate, setting it in the small table at your side before resuming your position snuggled up at Charles' side. He tentatively wraps his arm around your shoulders.

"Maybe next time I have to go on a trip you should come with me. I think you'd have fun getting to travel." His thumb ran languidly over your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

"It would definitely be better than being here without you." You admit with a giggle. His eyes glimmer as he looks down at you.

"You're so beautiful, libeling." He cups your cheek softly. You swallow thickly, your heart pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it. His eyes slowly fall to your lips, both of you at a complete loss for words. You found yourself shifting closer to him, your mind catching up with what you were doing just as your eyes were about to slide shut. You startled back from him, trying to put as much distance as possible between the two of you on the small sofa.

"I, um, it's late, I should go." You stand, hurrying back inside, dropping your plate in the sink before darting out the door. You didn't pause, any slow in your movements he would use to catch up with you. Not knowing how you would go about explaining your sudden outburst that was a situation you wanted to avoid for the time being. You rushed to your room, grabbing the letter that had been burning a hole in your nightstand drawer for months, before heading down to the only place you could think to go. Your knuckles tapped against Father Falk's office door. He stepped into the hall with a confused expression on his face.

"(Y/N)? It's awfully late, what can I do for you?" He asks as he leans against the doorframe.

"Father, I'm sorry it's so late, can I trouble you to join me for confession." You ask him bashfully, your voice still shaking slightly from the built up adrenaline still pumping through your veins.

"Of course my dear, come on. Let's take a walk down to the chapel." He offers you an encouraging smile as he slings an arm across your shoulders. "Can I venture a guess and say something happened between you and Charles?"

You crossed your arms over your chest. "I guess you could say that." You say with a weak chuckle. You explained the situation to him; your walk around the garden, eating dinner together, the kiss that just barely didn't happen. "I just want to read you the letter I wrote. Even if it's not to him I need to let these feelings out somewhere." He stands at the opposite entrance to the confessional, giving you one final nod before ducking in. You knelt, closing the curtain securely beside you before retrieving the letter out of your pocket. You carefully peeled open the sealed edge, pulling out the neatly folded papers. You shook off what you presumed was your own paranoia, it sounded as if someone was quietly walking closer to the confessional, but nobody had any reason to be down in the chapel this time of night. You clear your throat before beginning, "Charles, even after thinking about how I wanted to start this letter I still haven't found a good way to do so. So, I'm just going to jump straight to the point. I've found myself falling for you. There hasn't been a moment that you first introduced yourself to me that hasn't brought a smile to my face. The gentleness in your eyes while you push stray hair out of my face in the garden, how you never fail to come see me when you get home from a trip, our long, late night conversations between you me and the moon, and our ever favorite pancakes for dinner. I'll never forget any of it." You rambled on paragraph after paragraph you had written down as you let the raw emotions you felt for him take over you. After you had finished it you let out a long sigh. "Thank you for listening to all of that." You chuckle, suddenly feeling like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You stepped out of the confessional, freezing at the sight before you. Charles sat in the pew just outside where you had spilled all the feelings you'd been hiding away from him, a dumbstruck smile spread across his face. Falk stepped out a moment after you, struggling to hold back the gasp that almost escaped him.

"I'll, uh, leave you two to talk." He calls you on the shoulder as he walks past you. You look at Charles nervously, fidgeting with your hands as you tried to figure out what to say.

"How much of that did you hear?" You voice was barely a whisper, lucky any words were even coming out at all.

"All of it liebling." His eyes immediately travel to you as he responds. "Would you like to come sit with me for a moment?" He moved over, giving you space to sit in the pew next to him. "Am I really that scary?" He chuckles.

"No, you're not scary." You return his soft laughter. "You're my best friend, I just didn't want to risk ruining that." The calloused pads of his fingers slide along your jaw, guiding your face to look at him.

"What makes you think I wouldn't return your feelings, Hase?" His thumb languidly strokes across your skin, you felt intoxicated by his touch. You stared up at him eyes wide and pupils blown as his warm gaze trapped you in this moment with him. His head dipped down, lips capturing your own in a gentle kiss. Charles fingers slid into your hair, holding you close as he memorized what kissing you felt like. His large hands gripped firmly at your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. "I fell for you the moment we met." He whispers against your lips before kissing you once again, slightly more heated than the first time. The feeling of him kissing you was completely overwhelming. Your head spun, your heart raced, every inch of your body felt like it had burst into flames. You smiled against him as the unmistakable taste of syrup coated your tongue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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conceptsformyowner · 2 years

Text

A long day

We're lying in your bed, it's a bit late, but that's alright, tomorow's saturday. At 23:45, your alarm starts going off.

"Oh, what's that for?"

Without acknowledging my question, you turn off the alarm and get out of bed. I watch you get up and leave the room for a bit -can't follow you since I'm chained to the bed, as usual- and then return with the pack of gear. I quietly stare, not really knowing what you're planning.

You take the mittens out and place them on my hands. You tighten them such that I can't slip out of them, and then lock then both with little padlocks.

Then you take a collar and start putting around my neck. This is strange since I'm already wearing a locked chain necklace ever since we saw how daily collar wear was hurting my skin. You tighten it and then lock it on, not that you need to, you have already rendered my fingers helplessly useless.

You then grab some cuffs and place them around my wrists, then the other set further up the arms, so my elbows are starting to be forced together.

You grab the various belts and tighten them around my body: above the knees, around the waist with my elbows pressed against my torso, and slighly above my already cuffed together ankles.

You grab the long chain and look at me for a while, as if deciding what to do.

Wait, are you...making this up as you go?

You seem to have decided. You loop it around the link joining my ankles and then bend my knees and loop the chain through my collar, and then pull until I'm choking, my neck being bent back towards my feet. You look at me struggling for a bit, then loosen it just enough so that I'm ok, but nothing near a comfortable position.

And so it goes on and on, until you've used every single bondage implement we have. I'm completely immobilized and suffering from the stressful position and the tight bondage. I also can't see, or speak, since my head is wrapped and hooded.

However, it's not unbearable, you're good at managing that balance.

"You look so pretty like this."

You gently caress my hood.

"You're always so much prettier tied up. Alright, here's what's going to happen. You know how I've kept you in chastity for a couple weeks? And you've been so good at it, my precious toy." You caress my arm as I whine and struggle. "Well, I will reward that, because I want you to see I'm fair."

I stop struggling, now listening carefully.

"In exactly 24 hours, you may have earned an orgasm. These will be the hardest 24 hours you have ever endured. I will not show mercy, I won't release you of anything that isn't absolutely necessary. You will be in pain, desperation, hunger, thirst, and heat, and for each hour that you endure, you will get an edging session. At any point, you my use our signal to ask for a single item to be removed. I will choose which one. But it's not free. If you keep everything on, you are guaranteed an orgasm at the end of your 24 hours. But for every item I remove, the chance of it will be less and less. You have 20 items on right now, when the time's up I'll throw a D20, and if the number I get is equal or less than the amount of items still left on your body, I will fuck you until you cum. If it doesn't, you get another two weeks until we try again. So if you ask to remove things 10 times, you'll have 50% chance of me fucking you until you scream.

Anyways, I'll leave you here on the ground by my bed so you can signal during the night, but fair warning, if you wake me up to remove something I'll be grumpy and not very merciful in what I choose to remove.

Good night toy, can't wait to edge you until you're sobbing.

I love owning you."

You gave me a kiss on my forehead, and climbed back on your bed.

#text #ordered #concept

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moriihana · 2 years

Text

we can't fix each other but we sure as hell can enable each other instead || five: those kids are fucking crazy

pairing: dabi x disabled!gn!reader

overview: you meet dabi pre-canon because your cat, nugget, literally won’t leave the guy alone. friendship, fluff and (eventual) angst ensue.

chapter summary: training camp arc! you tease dabi for being a dramatic bitch and find out just how fucking batshit the U.A. kids are

content: fluff

word count: 2132

a/n: gonna be honest this is only this many words bc of having to copy the training arc dialogue and shit down. which was a pain. i had to rewatch the whole ass arc. it still doesnt read very smoothly to me but w/e i did my best also, if ya wanna know what the outfit the reader is wearing looks like, this is a drawing i did of the self-insert the original story was based on wearing it :)

*previously known as “we can’t fix each other (but we can heal our wounds together)”; i changed the title bc these assholes aint healin shit they’re just being overall menaces

AO3 link

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You twirled the knife that Dabi insisted you keep on you during missions, annoyance lacing your features. “Dabi, you know I can handle myself.” You were sitting cross-legged on your bed as Dabi paced around your room. Boo watched him from her spot on the bed, while Nugget laid, disinterested, on your pillow.

“I know, but I still don’t want you going!” He snapped, throwing his hands up in frustration. “Those kids are insane, doll. I don’t want to risk you getting hurt.”

You scowled. “Yeah, they are insane! What if you get hurt? Or Twice, or Toga? You know how Toga is, she gets too excited and rushes things! I worry about you guys!” You set aside your knife and got up, grabbing Dabi’s wrists to stop him from pacing. “And stop that, you’re making me nervous. You know I can fight. You’ve seen how I fight.”

Dabi shook your hands off and moved to sit down on the edge of the bed. “I know, mouse. I know,” he said softly, “you’re just… the only other thing I care about aside from tearing down Endeavour. I won’t—I can’t—let you risk your safety without at least trying to talk you out of it.”

You sat next to him and bumped him with your shoulder. “Remember the promise I made you, pretty boy?” You smiled. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, otherwise you’d probably burn yourself to a crisp to get what you want, and I’m definitely not lettin’ that happen. I love you, Dabi. I won’t let anyone take me away from you. I’ll kill whoever tries. Besides, I don’t trust you to take care of Nugget and Boo by yourself. You’d probably forget to clean Nugget’s litterbox and he’d piss all over the floor or somethin’.”

He snorted. “Ye of little faith. You wound me, doll.”

“Maybe you should get good, pretty boy,” you teased with a grin. “That still doesn’t mean I’m not going, though, because I am. There’s a reason I joined the League, and it wasn’t to sit around until you all come back with God-knows-what kinds of wounds.”

“There’s really nothing I can do to convince you.”

“Nope!” You popped the “p,” smiling cheekily at him. “Face it, pretty boy. You’re stuck with me.”

Dabi opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Toga bursting into the room. “Tomura-kun said we should leave soon!” She grinned, excited. She was practically vibrating with excitement. Twice trailed behind her, scratching the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I tried to stop her. I encouraged her to barge in!”

“It’s alright, Twice,” you said gently. “Toga, remember what we talked about? Knock before you come in—and wait for permission.”

“Sorry, Y/N-kun! I was just so excited, we get to cut people up!” Toga smiled brightly, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Fuckin’ psycho,” Dabi muttered under his breath. You smacked him on the back of the head, telling him to play nice.

“Anyways, we’ll get ready to go. Thank you, Toga.” You stood and ushered Twice and Toga out, then looked at Dabi and raised an eyebrow. “You gonna go get ready, or are you gonna hang out in here and watch me change like a weirdo?”

“I mean, if you’re offering, doll—”

“Nuh-uh. Out. Right now. Before I take that knife and shove it where the sun don’t shine.” You narrowed your eyes at Dabi’s smug grin. “Don’t fuckin’ say it, oh my God—”

“...kinky—”

“DABI!” You shrieked, practically shoving him out of the room. “Go get ready, dammit.”

You shut the door behind him with a huff, and began to get ready. Your outfit was nothing fancy—a cropped zip-up hoodie that fell a little above your waist, a plain t-shirt, snug-fit jeans, a holster on your thigh for the knife, and combat boots. The boots were custom-made, with zippers on the sides and velcro fasteners instead of laces—you designed it to ease the strain of getting dressed on your body.

You grabbed your cane, scratched Nugget behind the ears and gave Boo a little kiss on the head, then headed to the main part of the bar. It was time to go.

“I mean, I don’t like this. It’s not cute!” Toga fidgeted with her mask unhappily.

“This was orchestrated by the designer behind the scenes, right? Appearances don’t matter as long as it makes sense,” Mustard grumbled. He was younger than Toga, if you remembered correctly.

“I’m not talking about that! I just don’t want to wear this,” she fussed. You pat her on the head with an amused smile.

“Hi! Sorry for the wait.” Magne approached with Moonfish and Spinner.

“Hey, Magne. No worries.” You took your place next to Dabi, scanning over the forest from your position.

“That makes eight,” he murmured to himself.

“I don’t care, just let me at ‘em! I’m getting too pumped up!” Muscle interrupted. You frowned—you didn’t particularly care for him. He seemed too simple-minded.

“Shut up, you crazy bastards,” Dabi drawled. You snickered at his annoyance. “Not yet… we’ll move when all eleven of us are here. Gathering a bunch of punks who are just strong will only increase the risk. It’s better to have a small group of experienced elites. First, we make them realise…” He grinned. “...that their peace is resting in our hands.”

A few minutes passed before Twice and Mr. Compress arrived. Once they were there, Dabi turned around. “Alright, listen up. I’m only going over the plan once. Twice, Y/N: you’re with me. Magne, Spinner: you two deal with those cat heroes. Mustard, Moonfish, Muscle, and Toga: you head into the forest. Slow down the students you find, keep them separated. Once you have a chance, Compress, be sure to grab Bakugo and alert us when that’s done. Then we’ll meet up at the rendezvous point.” After he got confirmation everyone heard him, he grinned.

“Now it begins. Take them down. The false brilliance of the title “hero”...” He turned back to the forest. “We, the Vanguard Action Squad of the League of Villains, will condemn them.”

You watched as Dabi pressed his hand against a tree, igniting it. “You’re awfully dramatic, Dabi,” you teased. “‘We, the Vanguard Action Squad of the League of Villains, will condemn them.’ Honestly, for someone who acts so disinterested all the time, you are such a dramatic bitch.”

Dabi glared at you as he moved onto lighting up another tree. You stuck your tongue out, earning an eye-roll from him.

“That’s no good, Dabi! You were beaten!” Twice interrupted, “So weak! You small fry or something?” You scowled at that, but said nothing.

“Already? I’m pretty weak.” Dabi turned his attention to Twice, frowning.

“Don’t be hasty. You’re strong. You should think of this as the pro being very strong.”

Dabi sighed and looked away. “Make another one of me, Twice,” he drawled. “We need something to keep the pros from leaving.”

Twice turned around and flipped him off. “It doesn’t matter how many times a small fry goes in!” He then gave him a thumbs up with his other hand. “Leave it to me!”

You snorted. “Looks like our job in this area is done. We should head to the meeting point.”

Dabi nodded and put his hands in his pockets. “Yeah.”

As you were walking, Compress radioed in, alerting the Villains that he had completed his goal.

“Hey, you two! Did you hear the radio? I’m so pumped! Mr. Compress already succeeded! Took him long enough! I was getting sleepy!” Twice said animatedly.

Dabi glanced at him. “Don’t say that. He did a good job. Now, we just have to wait for everyone to get back here.”

“That’s not right! You’re right!”

You snorted. “Conversations with you are quite lively, Twice.”

Dabi sighed. “This place was supposed to be hard to find because of the wall of flames and gas, but the gas was cleared away. Things never go according to plan, huh?” “At least we got the kid.” You shrugged, nudging him with your shoulder. “Hey… did you hear that?” You put your arm out, stopping Dabi. He made a noise of confirmation and narrowed his eyes at a bush. He began to walk towards it before Twice raised his hand up.

“Oi, Dabi! Speaking of which, this has nothing to do with anything, but is it okay not to call the “Nomu” guy? You said it’d only react to your voice or something, right? It’s very important!”

Dabi turned back around. “Oh, yeah. You asked me why I didn’t add it to the battle, right?”

“Be grateful! Bow before me!” You laughed a little at that, matching your pace with Dabi as he resumed walking.

“A monster specifically for me, from Shigaraki… it’s probably killed at least one person by now.”

You three walked in silence until you met up with Toga. She pulled her scarf down with a grin when she saw you. “Huh? No one else is here yet?”

“You lunatic, did you get the blood? How many people’s worth?” Dabi shot you a look, daring you to scold him. You rolled your eyes, but kept your mouth shut.

“One person’s worth!” She said brightly.

“Just one? Weren’t you told to get at least three?!”

“It couldn’t be helped. I thought I was going to be killed.” You moved towards her at that, concerned.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt, right?”

She shook her head and twirled, smiling happily. “Not at all! I made some friends and found a boy I’m interested in.”

“You mean me?! Sorry, can’t!” Twice interrupted, then made a heart shape with his hands. “I like you too!”

“Twice, she’s like… fifteen. Knock that off,” you hissed, bonking him lightly with your cane. He whined, but backed off.

“You’re too loud. Shut up—huh?” Dabi cut himself off, looking up to find three of the UA kids driving Compress down from the sky.

“What the actual fuck?” You shook your head. “I knew these kids are insane, but what?”

“Give Tokoyami and Kacchan back!” The green-haired boy—Midoriya, you remembered—shouted.

“Does he really think we’d just… do that? I mean. Kudos for trying, I guess,” you mumbled to Dabi. He shook his head and pointed his hand towards the kids and Compress.

“Mister, get out of the way. Y/N, stay back.” He ignited his palm. You grumbled, but moved away from the fighting.

“Roger!” Compress utilised his Quirk before Dabi let off the blast at the kids, who dove out of the way.

Your eyes trailed after Twice as he lunged for Shoto. “Faces from Shigaraki’s kill list! That little beat-up boy and you! They weren’t, though!” He dodged backwards when Shoto sent a wall of ice towards him. “That’s hot!”

You turned your attention away from Twice after he regained his balance, figuring he was handling himself well enough, and instead watched as Toga ran towards Midoriya and tackled him. When Shoji smacked her away, you let out an alarmed sound. Dabi stopped you from rushing over, gesturing to Compress, who had deactivated his Quirk and was now holding his shoulder. “Toga can handle herself. Make sure Compress’s shoulder isn’t hurt too bad,” he said, before approaching the masked man. “Where’s Bakugo?”

“Of course…” Compress felt around in his pocket, then paused. “Hm?”

The boy with the blue mask spoke up. “I don’t know what your Quirk is, but inside that right pocket of yours that you kept flaunting were these—Tokoyami and Bakugo, right, entertainer?” He held up two blue marbles.

“Really, Compress? You just had to show off?” You grumbled. He ignored you, choosing to respond to Shoji.

“Oh, that didn’t take you very long! As expected of someone with six arms! You’re good at feeling around!”

Dabi scowled, lifting his hand. “Moron—” Compress interrupted him, “—no, wait.” He watched as the kids swerved to avoid the Nomu, and were cut off by Kurogiri.

“It has been five minutes since the signal. Let us go, Dabi.”

Toga and Twice went through the warp gates and Compress began to leave as well. You tilted your head in confusion, staying back with Dabi.

“Wait. Our goal is not yet—” he began, but was again interrupted by Compress.

“Oh, that? They seemed so happy that they rushed out here, so I thought I’d give them a present. It’s a habit, one of the basics of magic. When I flaunt something,” he removed his mask, “it’s because there’s something I don’t want you to see.” He stuck his tongue out to reveal the marbles that actually held the students.

You sighed and tapped Dabi. “I’m gonna go ahead and head back, since Compress is being… well, Compress.” You waited until he acknowledged your words, then walked through the warp gate.

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya x you #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #todoroki toya x reader #todoroki toya x you #toya todoroki x reader #toya todoroki x you #my writing #bnha fanfiction #navi: we cant fix each other #writing.txt

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wreywrites · 6 months

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Tiger Shark

Part 7: The Sail

Chapter 39

I think this smile will be stuck on my face forever. I’m glad Plutarch decided to film everything. He just wants to broadcast it over and over, but yesterday Beetee promised he would get me a tape. Which is good, because after Alvan walks me down the aisle, gives me a hug, and slips my hands into Finnick’s, I don’t remember the ceremony at all. I’m sure it was lovely, but I saw nothing but Finnick, smiling at me in his borrowed suit. And what else matters, really?

Dalton says something about kissing the bride, and who are we to argue? We run down the aisle, laughing, as our three hundred guests throw rice and flower petals, laughing and cheering, and, in Gloss’s case, crying a little. Then everyone scatters to the edges of the room and the fiddler from Twelve steps forward and Finnick sweeps me to the middle of the room.

“How long did it take you to teach him?” I ask as we glide around, inside the circle of smiling people.

“This one? Whistled it twice.” He grins. “I thought you might appreciate it.”

I do. It’s the song he recited during his interview. And while it was sad and full of longing then, now it is hopeful, looking to a future together for the sailor and his love.

The fiddler finishes and jumps right into something faster. The people from Twelve cheer, linking arms and flooding around us. Hazelle grabs one of my hands, pulling me in a raucous circle. I follow, laughing, Finnick trailing behind with Johanna on his other arm. The fiddler descends to something slower. People pair off. Gale waltzes past us, surprisingly graceful, with Posy on his hip. Katniss’s sister and mother dance together.

Finnick spins me around then pulls me close and says, “I’ve been waiting for three years for the day I could say this to you.”

“What?”

He leans even closer and whispers, “Odair you are.”

I laugh until my cheeks hurt.

After the next song, someone wheels out a rolling table carrying a beautiful cake decorated with waves and dolphins. The dancing pauses while Finnick and I cut each other a piece, then raise our plates in a toast to the guests.

Finnick takes one bite, then turns to me, eyes lighting up. “It’s the sugar rose stuff!”

I have a huge mouthful of cake, but I nod. When I have swallowed, I say, “Plutarch asked me about the cake while they were altering your suit. I told him this was your favorite.”

He kisses me. “I love you a lot.”

“I love you a lot more, now finish that so we can go dance!”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Gale and Posy teach Finnick and me how to do a dance from Twelve that involves switching partners and sometimes dancing as a group of four. We are no good at all, but Posy thinks it is hilarious when we switch partners the wrong way and she and I are arm in arm while Gale and Finnick end up dancing together. They both take it well, laughing for a second before deciding they’d rather die than disgrace the sacred art of whatever dance this is, and Gale leads like a gentleman.

When the four of us rejoin, Finnick is laughing. “Please don’t make us do that again!”

“Please make them do it again!” Posy begs.

But the next time we switch the right way, and Gale sweeps me around the room while Finnick carries a delighted Posy.

Ten must have a similar dance to this, because Alvan looks like a professional as he leads Cashmere and again when the two of them join back up with Katniss and Johanna, who is stumbling through the dance looking like a drunken Haymitch but laughing like she’s never had more fun in her life.

It is a long time before the fiddler plays another slow song. Another song from home.

“Why is all our music so sad?” I ask Finnick as we settle into the long, sweeping steps.

“I don’t think they’re sad. I think the sea just brings out different emotions in people, things you can’t feel anywhere else. That… longing in the midst of an ever-changing world.”

“Oh, now you’re getting philosophical on me,” I smile. “Better be careful, you’re starting to sound like Augustus.”

“I wish he was here.”

“Me too. Mags and Beck and Megary…”

We dance in silence for a little bit.

“We’re doing this again at home.”

“Obviously. We have to show your dad how good of a dancer you’ve gotten to be. And I think we should set Jade up with Gale.”

“What? No. He and Johanna would be much better together.”

“Mmmm, I don’t know,” he smiles. “I think Jade would be all over him.”

“Doesn’t mean he’d be all over her. And look,” I say, jerking my chin over Finnick’s shoulder. “Just look at them.”

We turn enough so Finnick can see Gale and Johanna dancing. They look slightly awkward, like neither of them is upset with the series of events that has led them to this point but now they aren’t quite sure what to do. They are both smiling though.

Johanna sees me looking at her and makes a face. Gale follows her gaze.

“Turn, turn!” I hiss at Finnick. “Don’t stare!”

Laughing, we turn so neither of us is staring at Johanna. Instead we watch Cecelia dancing with a circle of about a dozen little kids from Twelve.

“I hope her family’s alright.”

“Yeah,” Finnick says, “she deserves to be happy, after all this. And because I planned bedrooms for them and those kids, whether they move in with us or not.”

“Finnick, that’s four more bedrooms.”

“Three. One for Cecelia and Mark, one for Tilly and Edie, one for Bax.” He gets a distant look in his eyes. “One for us, one for Johanna, one for your dad, one for Jade and Coral when they visit, one for Katniss my new best friend-”

I laugh. “I do enjoy how good of friends you two have become. It’s…”

“Weird, isn’t it?”

“Very. But I’m glad. And honestly it’s no weirder than me and my best friend Gloss.”

“Best friend?” Finnick snorts. “I seem to recall you kissing him after-”

“Listen, I thought I was going to die. I think I can be forgiven for wanting to live a little.”

“I suppose.” He smiles, then looks wistfully over my shoulder at the cake.

Someone else slides an arm around my waist from behind.

“Go eat your cake, Finnick.” Gloss hugs us both. “I’ll make sure no one else dances with your wife.”

“Very generous of you. Please try not to kiss her again.”

Gloss and I laugh as Finnick weaves through the crowd of dancers toward his beloved cake.

“I can’t believe you picked him over me,” Gloss says dramatically as another slow song starts.

“Sorry,” I tease back. “The age gap is just insurmountable.”

“Age gap?” He snorts. “Something for you to consider then, which I’m sure you have already considered, given that you did ask Alvan to give you away: Alvan is pretty much my dad. He’s everyone’s dad, with his folksy wisdom and down-home slang that I don’t understand and very middle-aged attitude.” Gloss pauses, for effect, I suspect. “Alvan is two years older than me.” He pauses again, then sighs dramatically again. “My dad and my sister are in love.”

“Where were you going with that? All your words add up to the fact that Cashmere and Alvan have only a negligible age gap, while you are seven years older than me. Finnick is more my speed.”

Gloss shakes his head, smiling. “I know. I’m glad you two got things figured out. It gives me hope for the rest of us.”

The song ends and the fiddler starts on a faster number that pulls everyone from Twelve back to dancing. Cressida, however, gathers all the victors together along one wall. She lines us all up like she’s going to take a family photo. But then, with Pollux’s video camera still rolling, her strong voice carries to us. It carries many things—hope, determination, triumph, joy. She could give Cashmere a run for her money.

“What if you had known then?” she asks us.

Known what? When?

“What if you had known when you were reaped that all this would happen?”

I frown, then I realize.

Someone laughs, a real laugh. It’s Cashmere.

I look at Finnick, a smile on my face, a laugh bubbling near the surface.

He is smiling back as he leans closer and whispers, “If I had known I’d find you, I would have volunteered.” He kisses me.

If I had known…

Surrounded by these friends I never would have met if I hadn’t been reaped, in the arms of the man I love, the man I married today because I was reaped…

If I had known that I would be happy again…

I smile against his lips. “I love you.”

“I hope so!” he laughs. “You did just marry me.” Then he kisses me again and whispers, “I love you too.”

The party goes long into the night. The whole cake is eaten. Little kids are asleep on the floor while their parents talk and dance and laugh. I’ve never seen the refugees in Thirteen look so happy. And me? I’ve never been happier, even with everything happening outside. Because right now, Finnick and I are wrapped in each other’s arms, inseparable, surrounded by friends, as safe as we’ve ever been, and finally, finally allowed to live our own lives.

****

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#wrey writes #the hunger games #thg: tiger shark #annie cresta #finnick odair #have your wedding scene! enjoy this happy chapter!#you may pry flirty gloss from my cold dead hands

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mistresstaru · 2 years

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Virulent Waters Chapter 9, Last Chapter

Thank you everyone for reading. This chapter is n s f w

Full story link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38909289/chapters/97305075

Virulent Waters

:::

On our usual day, I go to the cave. I’m not sure if he’ll be there; we didn’t exactly make a plan. The cave has been cleared out of supplies, and the hole leading up to the building was closed. All that remained was a lantern. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here.” I hear Silco behind me, swimming up to the edge and hoisting himself onto it.

“Same to you.” I smile, coming to sit next to him and embrace him, not caring if he’s still wet. “How’s Vi?”

“She’s… calmer, I suppose.” He sighs against my shoulder. “It’s going to be a long healing process.”

“I’m sure.” I whisper, pulling away. “But I have good news, of which I’m sure you’ve heard, but…” I reach into my bag and pull out a document signed by the Council, a bill to clean the river Pilt. I put it in a plastic bag for him. “To make it official.”

“Thank you.” His eyes are full of emotion. “Thank you so much, my love.” He looks at me. “For years, I thought of nothing but vengeance, and using violent acts to get what I wanted, but…” He huffs. “Let’s just say, you have foiled my plans.”

“I’m glad I could.” I grin.

“Gods…” He kisses me passionately. “There’s no way I could ever repay you.”

“All I want is you.” I say, kissing him again. “And I have my freedom, and my job back. Actually…” I pull away slightly. “Jayce has offered me my own laboratory.”

“Really?” His brow raises. “And where will that be?”

“Well, with your permission… here. The cannery.” I smile. “It’s the perfect location for helping the mer-people and studying marine life, a hub for the river cleaning. It’s a shorter distance from the Hexgates than my old lab, and… it’s closer to you.”

“An excellent proposal.” He smiles, too. “Of course, you can build here, my dear. Make this place stunning.”

“Thank you!” I hug him again. “I have so many ideas. I was up all night drawing them!” I reach back into my bag and show him all my sketches. “Here’s where the mer-people can come in. And the bottom floor would be for marine life, the top floor for land… I’m keeping that lovely glass window, of course… ugh.”

“What?”

“I’m getting all nerdy again.”

“No, passionate.” He corrects me, looking over the plans. “It’s perfect. You would have your own office?”

“Yes, over here.” I point to the top left space.

“Make sure it’s private; a locked door, blinds on the windows if there are any.”

“Why?” I look up at him, his eye burning hot with lust.

“Because I have every intention…” He takes the sketches and practically throws them to the side before pushing me to the ground. “Of bending you over your desk and taking you…” He slips between my legs, holding my wrists down. “Every chance you give me.” He kisses me hard, tongues sliding against each other. Fuck, he’s a feral animal underneath the poised, calculating leader visage he maintains.

“E-Every chance?” I say, totally flustered.

“Something wrong with that?”

“Not necessarily, but um… we could switch up the location once in a while, l-like my home… or yours.”

“That works, too.” He smirks down at me. “Now that we’ve tested bringing humans down to our city, I’ll allow you to come.”

“I can’t wait.” I pull one of my hands free and caress his face. “I want to see your world.” He growls, back to kiss me again, webbed hands running down my body and fussing with my clothes, yanking my top off over my head and my bottoms off in one swift movement. Finished with that, his arms wrap around my back, arching me into his hot kisses down my chest. “Ooo…?” I feel him stop. I look down, and he’s staring at my scar that looks like a black flower. It’s the first time he’s seen it. “Silco…”

“I’m sorry.” He says, gently kissing it, the feeling numb.

“You don’t need to apologize.” I put my hands in his damp hair, loving the sweet gesture.

“It’s actually quite beautiful.” He nuzzles it. “You make everything beautiful.”

“You do, too.” I brush two fingers along the top of his scar.

“You’re also annoyingly kind.” He looks at me through his eyelashes.

“Again, you are too.” I giggle. “Ah!” It’s cut short by his fingers on my clit. “Fuck…” He snickers against my stomach before moving down, sharp, webbed fingers carefully spreading me apart, his mouth meeting my sensitive bundle. I throw my head back, almost smashing it against the floor, as his tongue presses hard against my clit, followed by his lips sucking on it, making very lewd sounds that assault my ears. “Oh, Silco… aahhh~…” His tongue works me open now, diving right in. He moans when he feels me tighten around it. Wrapping his arms around my thighs, he pulls me in closer, eating me so hungrily. “NNNN!” Finally, his chipped teeth tenderly scrape against my clit and my eyes open wide as I come, with him lapping it all up. “Dear Gods…” I pant, mouth dry, trying to come back down to earth.

“I haven’t made you lose your mind, have I?” He smirks wickedly, wiping his mouth and crawling back up my body. I could feel his cock against me.

“Of course… you have.” I swallow, gazing at him. “You definitely are a criminal.” I smirk.

“Apologies.” He kisses my hand in a gentlemanly way. “How about in exchange, I let you make me lose mine?” He carefully gets on his back, spines lying flat on the cave floor, fins still in the water, swishing this way and that. Suddenly regaining strength, I get up, straddling his tail. I take his hard cock in my hand and he shivers in excitement. The man goes from dominant to submissive in the blink of an eye. I lean down, swirling my tongue around the head.

“Mmm~…” He watches me as I slowly take it into my mouth until I gag. “No need to hurt yourself, love…!” I just needed a moment to adjust, taking him further still, touching the back of my throat. He lets out a guttural moan, my name rolling from his lips right after. I suck him fervently, needing to hear more moans from him, more desperate whines of my name. My hand also starts stroking him by the base, and my other hand slides up his svelte torso, pinching his nipple between my fingers. “Ahh!” He arches up, one hand in my hair, tugging. “Oh, you’re such a filthy girl, making me come like this…” Yes, just a little more. I suck harder, pinch harder, using my hand, my tongue… “NNGH!” He comes, shooting it down my esophagus.

“Mmph…” I choke, coughing a little.

“I should’ve warned you, I suppose.” He breathes deeply, regaining his composure.

“It’s okay.” I crawl on top of him, kissing him hotly. Fuck the fingering, I need him now. I sit up and grab his still hard cock, lining it up with my core.

“Wait… ah-hah…” He gasps, feeling how tight and wet I am, grabbing my hips, bruising them. “I thought you needed…”

“Not right now… mmm…” I lift my hips, pumping myself only to the halfway point.

“You’re still so tight…” He says hoarsely, staring at our connection. “So beautiful, so… aahhh~…” I meet his hips with mine, and he’s completely inside. “Naughty.”

“Silco~…” I ride him fully, my pelvis rolling up and down, needing to feel him all: his slim torso, sinewy arms, and at my feet I could feel the scales on his tail, and his cock – Gods, his big cock – stretching me so well. I curl my hips just right, and find my own spot. “AAHHHH~!”

“Yes…” He says as I squeeze around him. “Just a little more like that, my dear.” All I can do is groan in response, working my hips so hard they were starting to ache. He helps me with his hands, however, biceps flexing, urging me on with sweet words from that gruff, sexy voice of his. “Yes, yes… NNNNN!”

“AAHHH!” We finish together, my body shaking and my entrance squeezing around him as his semen shoots deep inside. I flop down tiredly on his chest, burying my face in his neck. I feel him slowly shrink out of me as we just breathe each other in. “Oh, Silco, I love you.” I say, kissing his ear.

“I love you.” He says, moving my hair from our faces. “The most perfect woman.”

“And you’re my perfect man.” I sit up a bit, kissing him. “Fins and all.” He huffs as I get off of him and help him sit.

“I’ll get to work on cleaning the cannery out of our things.” He says. “It won’t even take a week.”

“Thanks.” I tell him. “I can’t wait to move in.”

“I wish I could have seen you at the Council meeting.” He smirks at me. “I heard you told your professor off.”

“I did do that.” I nudge him with my shoulder. “I took a page from your book.”

“You showed them your sketches.”

“Yeah.” I find my bag, showing him the one I drew of what’s outside the window. “Look familiar?”

“Yes.” He answers, studying it. “You see the world so beautifully.”

“That’s because it is beautiful.” I say. “I told the Council that it is our duty to keep it that way, and make it better where we can.”

“You are going to help them do that. I have the utmost faith in you.”

“Well, I could always use some help.”

“I’ll be there.” He kisses my cheek. “Always.”

:::

Six months later, the lab was finished and running, and thriving. I had a fantastic team, both human and mer-people, helping me. Even other species of vastaya from around the world came to offer their knowledge and gain some of their own. The animals that I always worked with have been moved to this new lab, some enjoying the green pasture that we made for them after tearing down a few buildings next to this one. Mer-people and fish would enter the building from an underwater entryway. I met the cyborg merman Viktor, whose bionic knowledge has helped numerous humans, and even some animals. Singed has also offered his knowledge, though the man is eccentric and can have questionable methods of attaining it. And brilliant scientists from all over the city have offered their services to helping clean the river. But there’s still a lot of work to do. It will take years to fully rid the river of toxins, but better late than never, I suppose. The world was changing before my eyes, all thanks to me meeting him.

I visited Zaun, and it was better than I imagined. And Silco visits me up here often, in my private office, as he’s kept his promise of ravishing me at my place of business. In fact, I hear a sultry voice purring my name outside my office door right now…

#silco #silco my beloved #silco fanfiction #silco/reader #merman silco #arcane #arcane fanfiction

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

Lean on Me

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Gender Neutral Reader Word Count: 4,717 Tags: SFW, Fluff, 5+1 Trope, Obliviousness, Mutual pining, Aaron Hotchner deserves good things, Canon typical injury Summary: Five times you want to kiss the frown off of your boss's face, and one time you actually do it. *Requested by Anon. Link to AO3 or read below! “It doesn’t make sense.”

You stick a tack in a photo of a murdered woman—unfortunately one of many you’ve stuck to this board—and turn to face Hotch, who is looking over your handiwork with a quizzical expression.

“What doesn’t?” He takes a few steps closer, crosses his arms in front of him.

“Why would the unsub leave his comfort zone? The first six abductions occurred within five miles of the college, so why did the seventh and eighth happen almost twelve miles away?” He reaches for the board, traces his finger along the circle Reid had colored in on the map. “We profiled that he’s disorganized and far from confident, so why would he do that?”

He looks over at you, frowns, and not for the first time your gaze is drawn to the little crease between his eyebrows that always forms when he is puzzled, worried, confused, stressed, or otherwise unhappy. In short, it’s there kind of all of the time.

For the first time, though, you think of how easy it would be to lean over, press your lips there, smooth it out, and maybe even get him to smile for a change. He has a great smile, when he lets people see it.

You shake the daydream, rewind back to the question he asked, and wrinkle your nose in thought.

“Maybe his circumstances changed? It's summer now, and there are still classes, but students aren’t living in the dorms. Maybe he moved back home or got an apartment off campus that’s within that area—or a job.” He sighs, runs a hand over the back of his head, nods.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. That’s good. I’ll mention it to the others.” He pulls out his phone, and you grab another photo, another thumbtack, but something stops you and you lay a gentle hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to think of everything, you know. That’s why you have us.” He exhales, his shoulders losing a little of their tension, and that forehead wrinkle gets a little less deep.

“Sometimes I forget that not everything needs to be done the hard way. Or by me.”

“What? You, Aaron Hotchner, doing things the hard way?” you tease, and you are gifted a glimpse of his rare, unfiltered smile.

“Okay, enough pointing out my flaws,” he says with a raised eyebrow, though he’s still smiling, and as he looks down to type out a text, you remember to pull back your hand.

“I would never.” He looks up from his phone at that—maybe at the conviction in your voice, which you hadn’t exactly intended—and his expression softens further.

“I know you wouldn’t.” You hold eye contact for a moment, and then turn to finish preparing the board, pinning up another photo of another woman and reminding yourself that they need you to focus on the task at hand. Two weeks later, you knock on Hotch’s office door, a stack of completed consults in your hand. He looks up, that familiar notch in between his brows, a scowl on his face; when he sees that it’s you, he tones it down a little.

“Draw the short straw?” he asks, and you figure that’s because everyone knows he is in a bad mood and they’ve been avoiding this office all day. You shrug.

“It was rock, paper, scissors, but yes.” He huffs a short laugh, and you smile, step toward his desk. “Anything I can do to lighten the load?”

“Technically you’re adding to it,” he says with a glance at the files in your hand, and you set them on one of the chairs with a purposefully loud thump and then take the other seat.

“Technically. But technically, you only need to review my consults; I can review theirs. Right?” He mulls it over a moment, like the thought never crossed his mind—of course Aaron I have to do everything myself Hotchner would never suggest such a thing, even as the team sits in the bullpen with nothing to do, seeing who can throw M&Ms into Spencer’s mouth from the furthest distance.

“Technically,” he agrees, and you pluck a pen out of his pen cup and take the first file off the pile, open it in front of yourself, careful not to cut into the workspace he’s occupying. You both smile softly down at your work, and you actively do not think about that wrinkle between his eyebrows.

About an hour later, he reaches for his mug out of habit but finds it empty; you stand, take it in your hand, and he makes a noise of protest.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” you say, and you walk toward the door. “I need some too. I’ll be right back.”

You pass through the bullpen—apparently the M&M contest led to a sugar crash, because Spencer is laying with his head on his desk—and grab your cup off your desk, take both to the break room to fill them.

Derek appears next to you as you’re stirring your sugar in.

“Coffee date with the boss?” he asks with a curious expression, and you shake your head.

“Of course not. I’m helping him with the overwhelming amount of paperwork on his desk so his mood improves, instead of just ignoring him.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and Derek scratches the back of his head.

“Never thought of that,” he admits, and you pat him on the arm and take your coffees back upstairs.

Hotch looks up at you as you set his mug down, says a soft thank you, and you grab the pile of files you brought up, separate them, and head back downstairs.

“You review mine,” you say to Derek, handing him a stack, “Emily take Spencer’s, Spencer take Derek’s, I’ll take Emily’s.” They look at you like they have no idea what to say, and you just smile, tap the top of Spencer’s head with a folder. “I’ll come back down and grab them in a little bit.”

“Yes, boss,” Emily says, and you grin on your way back upstairs. Hotch is standing when you arrive this time, looking out the window over the bullpen.

“What did you do?” he asks, turning to you, frowning again. You’re so close that kissing that wrinkle would be effortless. All you’d have to do is lean in.

You smile.

“I delegated, Hotch. You should try it some time.” You put your hands on his arms and guide him back to his desk. “Now what can I help you with?”

By the end of the day, his desk is clean and his bad mood is long gone. He closes the last of his files, sighs deeply, covers your hand with one of his, and says thank you.

The next morning when you come in, there is a steaming latte and a cookie on your desk, and you can’t stop smiling the rest of the day. Your next case is draining, children abducted and left for dead, and everyone is on edge, but no one more than Hotch. You’re fairly certain his face hasn’t relaxed since the initial briefing, and he’d be a prime candidate for the old ‘your face will get stuck like that’ joke, if anyone was up to joking.

The team catches the unsub, saves one child, but not until after three are dead; you take a late flight home because no one wants to stay another night in a town it feels like you’ve failed, and everyone curls up to get some rest except you and Hotch.

You try to read the book you brought along—a science fiction dystopian novel, something to get you out of your head and away from real life problems—but you’re a little distracted by Hotch’s sighing. It’s become an every-five-minutes thing, and while you’re definitely on board with sighing as a way to decompress, he’s not decompressing. He looks like he’s in pain mentally, exhausted physically; you’re not sure how everyone else was able to ignore it and go to sleep, but then you figure everyone else may not be as in tune with him as you are. As observant.

As in love.

Not that that matters: you know your issues, and some of his issues, and there’s the whole superior/subordinate thing which doesn’t really do anything for you except give you a stomach ache. It would never work out, even if he somehow, miraculously, were to love you back—and that’s a pretty big if in and of itself.

But still, you notice him, can’t help it, and the sighing is getting to be a little much. You sigh yourself, put your finger in between the pages of your book, and walk over to take the seat next to him; he looks over at you, frowning just like always, and you carefully close his file and set it aside.

Neither of you say anything to the other, just look each other over for a moment, and then you lean lightly against his shoulder and flip back to the beginning of your book.

“I still dream of the island. I sometimes approach it across water, but more often through air, like a bird, with a great wind under my wings. The shores rise rain-coloured on the horizon of sleep, and in their quiet circle the buildings: the houses grown along the canals, the workshops of inkmasters, the low-ceilinged taverns.”

You keep your voice low and soothing, and you are just turning to page fifteen when you feel the weight of his head drop onto your shoulder.

The crease between his eyes melts away in sleep.

You read until you make it home, and you wake him up with a gentle nudge before the rest of the team drifts back to consciousness. He looks at you, blinks slowly like he’s trying to remember where he is, and then gets a little sheepish when he puts two and two together, realizes he fell asleep on your shoulder.

You just shake your head, give his arm a squeeze, and head back to your seat to gather your things. You, Hotch, and Emily are catching the elevator to the parking garage—after staying two hours later to work on some rush consults straight from Strauss—when he looks at something on his phone that makes him groan aloud. You and Emily share a look, and you ask what’s wrong.

“I just remembered I’m supposed to have a treat for Jack to take to school tomorrow and it’s, what, seven thirty?”

“So just stop at the supermarket on your way home; no one can tell the difference anyway,” Emily says, but you and Hotch both shoot her a skeptical glance.

“It’s all about the treats at a school like Jack’s,” you supply, and Hotch looks over at you like he’s surprised by your comment. “If they’re not homemade, the parents talk. Plus there’s probably an allergen list a mile long: no nuts, no eggs, no soy, no dairy. You have to pick him up from Haley’s tonight, right?” You’re pretty sure, but when he nods he confirms it. “So pick him up, go home and get some dinner, put him to bed, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way over with the goods. I have a great recipe for vegan apple cinnamon muffins that will go over really well.”

“You really don’t have to do that; I’ll figure something out,” he says, but you just shake your head and pull up the recipe on your phone.

“Forget it, it’s already done. I have everything I need at home already; let me help,” you murmur softly, and when he looks at you with the furrowed brow that comes with accepting kindness from someone else, you almost forget it’s not just the two of you in the elevator. It’s only when Emily clears her throat that the eye contact breaks. He nods.

“Okay. Thank you; I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” The elevator dings and it stops at the parking garage; the three of you get off and head in separate directions for your cars. “I’ll text you.”

“Goodnight,” Emily says with a grin, and you wave at her, hop into your car, and head for home.

About two hours later, you show up at Hotch’s door with two dozen apple cinnamon muffins, and unbleached, whole wheat flour in your hair, and he has coffee brewing, a smile on his face.

“You don’t know how grateful I am,” he says as he ushers you into the kitchen, takes the boxes of muffins from your hands, and pours you a cup of dark, delicious coffee. You sip it slowly, savoring the taste—you should have known he’d have incredible coffee—even though it’s far too late for you to be indulging. Unless you’re working a case, you usually switch to decaf by three.

“I know you are. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think you’d appreciate the gesture.” You lean forward, open a box, and pull out two muffins, handing one to him. “I made a couple extra so we could taste test; if I accidentally put salt in instead of sugar, you’re on your own,” you joke, and you wait for him to taste it before taking your own bite.

“That’s delicious. There’s really nothing unapproved in here?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“Nope, it’s all healthy and allergen free, except for the flour, but that wasn’t on the list you sent.” He reaches a hand toward you, and you don’t realize, at first, that he’s brushing the flour out of your hair.

“Messy baker,” he teases, and your heart feels really full, being in his kitchen like this, warm muffins and fresh coffee, even if your hair is a mess. You smile, and he smiles back before dropping into that serious expression, eyebrow wrinkle and all. You think about brushing your lips there tonight, but this feels like two steps forward, and you don’t want to risk taking that step back. “Next time I’ll help you.”

“Oh, next time? You plan on needing my baking expertise again? Fair warning, this is the only recipe I know, so I hope you like apple cinnamon muffins.” You take a sip of your coffee, look up at him, and he takes another bite, nods his head.

“I do. Especially these.”

In a perfect world, what comes next would be a cinnamony, coffee flavored kiss, but the world’s not perfect, and you yawn instead. You look down at your mug like it’s betrayed you, and Hotch chuckles low.

“It’s decaf. I know you usually stop in the afternoon; I wouldn’t forgive myself if you were up all night because of me.” You have always been a person who falls in love with all the little details about someone, so the fact that he’s noticed this, remembers this, makes your heart beat a little faster. “I should let you go. You’ve done so much today, between staying late and baking for Jack—for me. You need to get some sleep.”

He’s right, it’s nearly ten, and you should be getting back home, but this is a moment you never want to end.

You just nod, though, and he reaches out to brush his hand over your back when he walks you to the door.

“Thank you again. I really appreciate that you did this for me,” he says, soft, like he still can’t imagine you would.

“You’re welcome, Hotch. Any time, really; I’m happy to help.”

You get home, clean your kitchen, and have a very late dinner, and the smell of good coffee and apples and cinnamon is still in your nose when you drift to sleep. “You didn’t hear what he said,” Hotch snaps almost a month later, with one hand splayed on his hip and the other on the table in front of him. The moment you saw him engaged in an argument with a member of the Sheriff’s department, fire in his eyes, you’d grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into a small conference room, shutting the door behind you. It took almost three minutes of staring at each other for him to say something instead of just glaring at you for interrupting the pissing contest.

“I don’t need to know what he said. I know you, and I know you handle people like that with a quick, sharp remark and then you wash your hands of it. You don’t argue back and forth, you don’t draw it out. You would have regretted it if you did that today, so I stopped you.”

“You think you know me so well, do you?” he asks in an unkind tone of voice you can’t identify, haven’t heard from him before; the expression on his face is familiar, though, a scowl that only puts emphasis on his handsome features—it’s unfair, really.

You exhale, cross your arms.

“Yes, and I know you well enough to know you’re irritated with him, not me, so cut the shit.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever been quite that direct with him, and certainly the first time you’ve ever sworn at him; your immediate instinct is to apologize, but he surprises you by huffing a laugh. The angry lines of his face smooth into something softer.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. He just—I can’t stand people like that.” He scrubs a hand through his hair in irritation. “We’re here to work—to do a job they couldn’t finish on their own. Not to be… objectified.” He mutters the last word, so low you almost don’t hear it, and then there’s a knock at the door. Derek enters.

“Sheriff wants a word, Hotch; do you have a sec?” With one last look at you, he nods, brushes past him to leave the room. Derek gives you the barest hint of a smile. “He was defending your honor, you know.”

You frown. You didn’t know.

“That jerk was talking about me?” you ask, clarifying, and he nods.

“Something about assuming you’re an athlete because he likes your ass. Set the boss man off.” You walk over to him and leave the room together, heading back to your workspace.

“Well Hotch is right, we’re here to work, not to be objectified. I can see how he would get angry.” Derek shoots you a flat, questioning glance.

“You think he’d be getting that worked up if it was my ass that guy was talking about? Or Emily’s?” The two of you stop outside the conference room, and you cross your arms, lean against the doorframe, frown.

“So what are you trying to say? That he sees me as being weak, thinks he needs to defend me? I'm as capable as either of you.” That may not be strictly true, because you’re a little more brains than brawn, like Spencer in that way, but you can hold your own and you thought Hotch knew that.

Derek just laughs, shakes his head, and ducks into the room. You follow, so confused.

“I thought you were just playing it close to the vest, but you’re oblivious, aren’t you?”

“Oblivious about what?” Emily asks, pen between her teeth, feet kicked up onto a chair, and you shrug.

“I’m still not sure. Hotch got into an argument with a deputy about me, and I asked Derek if Hotch thinks I’m weak and that’s why he felt like he had to defend me.” She smiles broadly around the pen, pulls it out of her mouth with a grin.

“Oh, honey. That’s not it. You know that’s not it, right?”

“I clearly don’t know what’s going on at all, so no, if you’d care to enlighten me,” you say, sinking into an empty chair. “I hate it when you guys are cryptic.” You love your team, but they have a habit of doing this all the time, saying things to each other with their eyes, or just a few words that don’t have any sensible meaning that you know of. It’s like they live to talk over your head, to say things without actually saying them.

“Okay. Hotch has a thing for you,” Emily says simply, and you blink.

Well that’s the very last thing you’d expected to hear.

“He absolutely does not.” You look at Derek, who’s making a face like you’re the one being crazy; you laugh out loud, can’t help it. “He does not. I’m pretty sure Hotch doesn’t have things, and if he did, he wouldn’t have a thing for me.”

“Why not? Because that would be too convenient, since you have a thing for him too?” Derek asks, taking the seat across from you, and you grab the nearest case file, flip it open and focus your attention on it.

“I care about him, the same way I care about all of you, and he maybe needs a little more care—but you guys are reading into things.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to say anything more, because Hotch, JJ, and Spencer return, and you all have a lead to work.

You can’t help but wonder if you’re being obvious about your feelings, though, especially later, when you get back to the hotel and the group decides to have a drink at the bar.

JJ and Emily hit the pool table while Derek and Spencer head up for drinks, and you are left sitting with Hotch at the table, pressed together in the inside corner of a booth.

“Tired?” you ask him, because he does look worn out, his tie a bit loose, his eyes a little red. You know he doesn’t get much sleep when you travel, and you can’t imagine he’ll go to bed even when this little detour is over.

“Always,” he sighs, but when he looks over at you, he smiles, just a little. “Just can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Yeah, it gives Southern hospitality a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?” The people you’ve interviewed today are, on paper, quite respectable, but there’s a Desperate Housewives, ‘everyone is sleeping with someone else's spouse’ kind of thing going on, and it’s honestly exhausting. To your surprise, Hotch laughs.

“It really does. I don’t think I’ve ever missed the quiet solitude of my apartment quite this much.” You lean back against the vinyl of the booth, sigh.

“I miss my apartment, but it’s been too quiet lately. I prefer the sounds of someone else sharing space with me: the coffee maker percolating, the news in the background, the shower running, the sound of flipping the pages of a book or magazine.” You look down at your hands, because you’re getting a little more emotional than you usually let other people see. “Sorry. I’m not typically this open about being…”

You trail off, but Hotch looks over at you, concerned, the wrinkle between his eyebrows even more noticeable when you’re sitting this close. You think, just briefly, of running your thumb over it, but with your luck, Derek or Emily would see, and you’d never live it down.

“Lonely?” he finishes softly, and when you nod your head, he covers your hands with one of his own, bumps his shoulder against yours. “I get lonely too. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You look up at him, feeling a little vulnerable, and his expression softens. “When we get back, maybe you could come over for dinner some night. Nothing fancy,” he clarifies, and you smile, “just two lonely people being a little less lonely.”

“That would be really nice.” You can see Derek and Spencer approaching out of the corner of your eye, and Hotch must too, because he removes his hand, slips back into the slight, persistent frown you have come to know and love. Derek looks at you, raises an eyebrow, and hands you your beer. You try to tell him to shut up with your face, plan to follow up later to see if that actually worked. “We have an agent down on the second floor,” Spencer says into his comms, and you immediately want to slap him in the back of the head.

“Don’t say agent down, kid; I’m like, slightly wounded at best.” You hold a hand against the stab wound on your side—the unsub honestly just grazed you, and you’d knocked him out with a single punch, which made you feel pretty awesome—and reach out the other so he can help pull you to your feet. Your hand comes up to your own walkie button. “I’m not down, I’m fine—just slightly stabbed,” you add, and Spencer is getting his cuffs on the unsub when Hotch and JJ burst through the doors.

Well, Hotch bursts. JJ follows behind looking strangely winded for one of the most naturally athletic people you know.

“What happened? Are you alright?” he asks, and you lift your shirt to show him the sluggishly bleeding gash.

“I’m fine, see? It’s not even deep. Spencer saw blood and got a little ahead of himself.” You turn to Spencer, who sticks out his tongue, then back to Hotch, who looks haunted and pale, with that goddamn wrinkle between his eyebrows again. He’s bent down, looking over your wound seriously—you’ve had worse, so much worse, that you don’t understand why he’s so worried about it—and then he leans up, presses a hand to your cheek, and pulls you close for a soft, tender kiss.

If this were a movie, right about now a camera would be panning around you in a circle, as you wrap your free hand around his neck, pull him closer, melt against his body like it’s all you’ve been dreaming of for months, and the two of you would break apart smiling, maybe even kiss again.

It’s not a movie, though, so you just bleed out against your hand and freeze, because Hotch is kissing you at a crime scene and you almost got filleted, so you’re not sure if this is a you got hurt, so I’d better kiss you kiss or an I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever, and you got hurt so I have to kiss you kiss.

When he breaks the kiss, you’re both breathing a bit heavily, and you don’t know what to do, so you just lean in and press your lips to that wrinkle between his eyebrows that you’ve been thinking about so frequently since the first time you noticed it. You brush a hand through his hair, and when you pull back, he’s smiling.

“What was that?” He covers your hand on your side with his own and helps get you toward the elevator so you can be patched up by the EMTs; JJ and Spencer are left staring, open-mouthed in your wake, with an unconscious unsub at their feet, but neither of you are concerned about that.

“I’ve been thinking of doing that for months now: to kiss that spot between your eyes so you’ll stop frowning for a change. Since I couldn’t, I decided to find other ways to help you stop frowning so much. It kind of became my life’s mission.” He sighs, puts his arm around you and holds you close while you wait for the elevator to bring you to the ground floor.

“I stop frowning when you’re around because you’re around, not just because of the things you do for me,” he tells you, and he presses his lips to yours for another warm, soft, perfect kiss. “I’ve been thinking of doing that for months now.” You tilt your head, make a sound of contemplation, and he chuckles softly. “What is it?”

“I think those cryptic idiots we work with might be onto something,” you say with a grin, and when the elevator lets you off and Hotch helps you toward the ambulance to be patched up, Derek and Emily are waiting with concerned looks on their faces. They must be pretty confused to see you’re grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, you guys were right; Hotch does have a thing for me!” you call as you walk past them, and when your wound is properly dressed and wrapped, you put your arms around his neck and let him kiss you until the frown and accompanying wrinkle are nothing but distant memories.

*The novel excerpt is from The Weaver by Emmi Itäranta.

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#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt #aaron hotchner x gn reader #hotch x gn reader #request

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Insatiable. ( Jungkook x OC)

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC! Age difference!!! [ bet you’ve never seen all of this in one fic before? ]

[ Some notes : Born Vampires stop aging when they turn twenty five. Turned vampires stop aging when they’re turned. ]

Summary :

21 year old Hwang Sera is sick of being the only human in an entire clan of vampires. As an immortal human from one of the oldest bloodlines, she is a catch. The Vampire she marries would essentially be indestructible.

Which makes her an easy target for greedy vampires everywhere.

Determined to keep his precious daughter safe, her father hires an old friend , Jeon Jungkook as her full time bodyguard.

Jungkook is 35 years old ( well technically 576 years old ) , father to an adorable five year old kid and he has zero tolerance for Sera and her teenage shenanigans. But , he needs the money and he knows his son would be safe in the Hwang clan’s massive mansion.

And suddenly, after years of despising vampires, all Sera can think about is getting into the gorgeous vampire’s bed and maybe into his heart.

Chapter 1

“He’s so hot.” My sister sighed for the seventeenth time and I glared at her.

“He’s mine. Back the fuck off.” I bared my non existent fangs at her and she retaliated by showing off her own inch long fangs, eyes flashing ruby red in the confines of our huge sprawling bedroom.

The man in question, my sparkling new bodyguard wasn’t here now. He was downstairs at the party, being introduced to the others as the latest addition to our clan.

My mouth watered when I remembered his gorgeous, handsome face. And that body , God.

Sculpted by some higher being who wanted to show off, for sure.

I had never given much thought to losing my virginity. It certainly wasn’t by design that I hadn’t had sex yet but looking at Jeon Jungkook in a fitted black suit, midnight black hair falling into his lovely red eyes and those delicious muscles.....

I kind of believed in fate now.

This was why I’d always been repulsed by the vampires who courted me.

Because Jeon Jungkook had been out there, waiting for me.

And now fate had brought him here and he was going to be mine.

I stumbled over a stray bra, nearly face planting onto the floor .

God, i hated how messy Somi was but I was also eternally grateful that she had skipped out on the party tonight, volunteering to help me with the kids.

I ran a daycare in one of the larger cottages in the estate, keeping the little fanged devils in check while the parents went about their daily lives. On nights like this, when my father hosted guests from every clan in the country for one of his lavish parties, there was always a whole bunch of bite-happy toddlers in need of supervision.

Enter me.

I loved babies. I’d always loved them. They were adorable. And after three years of school , I was finally, officially qualified in caring for them.

Oh and by the way did i tell you that Jungkook had a son? Jeon Joowon was possibly the cutest five year old I’d ever seen and yes I was a little biased but that was okay. I was going to be the kids step mom , after all.

Listen, don’t look at me like that, I just really want to be with Jungkook okay?

I tripped over the same bra when turning back around and I swore.

Focus, Sera. You can day dream about hot vampire daddy later.

“ Why do you have to throw your shit all over the place like this? “ I whined, grabbing the offensive piece of fabric and tossing it at her. She caught is so fast I went a little cross eyed. My sister never missed an opportunity to show off her super-saiyan, vampire powers. That made her a crowd favorite with the toddlers and younglings .

“I still don’t think your choice of a career is smart. These fanged little beasts are impossible to control... ” She commented mildly, watching me stuff two whole cartons of baby wipes into the huge backpack I had propped against the bed. I’d forgotten to restock the day care with wet wipes and it was sheer luck that I had a pair of them lying around my room.

The very idea of entering a room full of babies and toddlers without baby wipes, made me shudder.

“Listen, they’re absolute angels when you listen to what they’re saying. Just because babies can’t talk doesn’t mean they don’t have preferences. All you really need to do is find out what each kid likes and help them feel comfortable -”

“Please stop.” She rolled her eyes and I glared at her.

“I’m a little thirsty. Can i have a sip..” She said softly and I frowned.

“You haven’t drunk from me the entire day. Are you okay?” I held my wrist out.

She shrugged , grabbing my wrist and casually sinking her fangs into the vein . Pain bloomed, familiar and somehow comforting , replaced almost at once by the gentle numbing of her venom. She drank a little and pulled back soon after, linking the puncture wounds for good measure. I watched the skin knit itself together , whole and unmarred in no time.

Perks of being immortal.

The knock on the door made me jump.

“Ms Hwang?” Jungkook’s soft, husky voice came floating through the door and I grinned, cheeks aching with how wide my smile was.

“You look like a maniac. Stop smiling.” My sister looked a little alarmed and I struggled to rearrange my features. Sticking my tongue out at her, I grabbed my sweatshirt, slipping it overhead quickly. I glanced at the mirror, grimacing a bit.

Being with toddlers meant no make up or hair left free.... and so I had a messy top bun, and just lip gloss to look presentable. While the entire party teemed with gorgeous vampires in low cut gowns and blood red lips.

Ugh.

I grabbed the backpack and waved to Somi.

“Come as soon as you can alright?” I begged her and she waved me off.

I rushed to the door, throwing it open and smiling wide.

“Hi oppa.” I said cheerfully.

“I’m not your oppa.” Jungkook said automatically, barely glancing at me and instead reaching for the backpack. He directed me to the stairwell on the side, the one that led straight down to the ground floor and out into the gardens. He went in first and I followed him, climbing down carefully.

I sighed, taking in the mouth watering width of his shoulders, encased in a perfectly fitted jacket. He looked so handsome I wanted to cry. And although he’d been here for a whole week month now, I hadn’t managed to get into his good graces.

“What do I call you, then?” I made to hold his hand when we reached the end of the staircase but he shook my arm off at once.

Did I tell you that he really can’t stand me for some reason?

“As I’ve mentioned a dozen times already, Mr. Jeon would suffice.” He said shortly. He held the door leading out into the gardens open and I walked through.

“That makes you seem so old.” I grimaced, shaking my head and he gave me an amused look.

“I am 576 years old.” He deadpanned. The daycare cottage was just a five minute walk from the mansion and the pathway through the garden was absolutely beautiful, well lit and covered in the brightest flowers.

I waved off his excuse about his age.

“you don’t look a day over twenty five to me.” I said with a shrug. He shook his head, clearly too tired to carry the conversation on. We walked in silence and I felt incredibly content, just with him near.

And he was going to be by my side for the rest of our lives, I thought softly. I would make sure of it. I’d never felt this way about anyone. Jungkook was a good man , evident in literally everything he did. He was kind, an amazing father and such a gentleman that he made me melt.

Jungkook had been turned at the age of 35. And so he sailed through eternity with the gorgeous good looks of a mature , well kept man. His hair was thick, just a slight bit of grey peppering the edges and his features were sharp and well defined.

“Is Joowon in the daycare already?” I asked with a smile and he nodded curtly.

“He has Mr. Pepper with him. He refused to leave him behind. please just make sure he still has him with him when he leaves. He can’t fall asleep without the bunny “ He said softly and I felt my heart bloom ten sizes.

“Of course, I will -”

“Jungkook !!!” The shrill voice broke the stillness of the night like a hammer through a mirror.

I turned around with a frown only to be greeted by the sight of a very pretty, very tall vampire in a blood red bodycon dress and a neckline that plunged all the way to her belly button. She had ruby red lips, and well made eyes. Eyes that now flashed red , dilating as they ran up and down his body.

I felt myself clenching my fists.

“I’m getting late....we need to go, I grabbed his arm trying to tug him along but he didn’t budge. i glanced at his face and felt my heart shatter at the small smile playing around his lips.

“Helena..... Surprise seeing you here....” He drawled, voice so much deeper than usual and I bit my lips. They knew each other?

The vampire had reached us now and she gave me a disdainful smile.

“Who’s this?” She asked with a laugh, “ Are you babysitting now, Jeon?”

I bristled. To my utter chagrin, Jungkook laughed to.

“She’s the kid I’m watching. The Immortal human of the Hwang clan.” He intoned dully.

The lady’s brows went up in surprise.

“:The rumors are true, ....The Hwang clan’s hidden jewel.....with skin like the rarest pearl and eyes that steal souls. Fiercely guarded ...a beauty like no other.... I thought they were exaggerating, but I see they were not. . You’re exquisite.” She commented , seemingly genuine in the compliment as her eyes roved over my features.

“ Um.. thanks?” I shrugged, not particularly flattered by the extravagant description.

The poets in my clan tended to be a bit overdramatic at times.

. She laughed.

“Are you unavailable for the night, then Jeon?” She turned her flashing eyes on him .

My jaw nearly dropped.

Did this bitch really just proposition-

“Afraid so.... Raincheck?” Jungkook smiled wide and he looked so beautiful that I had to bit my lips to stop from moaning.

Helena waved softly, eyes shifting back to me.

“Be safe, little human. When the sun goes down, the ghouls come out to play.” She grinned wide, letting her fangs grow long, past her lower lip, eyes red and bloody.

I stared right back. She laughed and waved before floating away into the night.

Jungkook chuckled.

“You’re not intimidated by us, then.” He said mildly as we began walking again.

“I spent the entirety of my childhood playing with vampires. Do you really think they didn’t spend every waking hour trying to scare me to death?”

He gave me soft smile, and then went back to staring straight ahead.

I relaxed when the familiar cottage came into view, the sound of laughing kids reaching me.

I held my hand out for the backpack and Jungkook gave it to me.

“I’ll just check out the backyard and see if al the gates are secure and then I’ll be right outside the door, alright? Call out if you need me...” He said sharply

“Will you come even if I call you oppa?” I bit my lips, grinning and he flicked my nose.

“Behave.” He said shortly. I sighed.

“I’m not a kid, you know.” I said softly and he gave me a look.

“You are to me. Now get inside.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There’s a monster behind the tree and I’m Hawkeye because I have the bow and arrow and Jieun is the princess.” Joowon said brightly, showing off the toy bow and arrow in his hand and I grinned, taking in his exquisite features. He looked strikingly like his father , except for the two adorable dimples that showed up everytime he smiled.

“That’s amazing... do you like fighting monsters?” I asked with a grin holding my arms out for him and he hugged me happily.

“Yes, I like fighting monsters and I like Mr. Pepper.” He waved the stuffed bunny in my face.

“Make sure you keep him safe, alright? “ I stroked the soft skin of the

“So what color does your daddy like?” I asked with a grin. I felt a sharp kick on my shin and I turned to my sister.

“Don’t use the fucking kid for your sinful aims, you dingbat!” She hissed and I glared at her.

“I did no such thing...I was just making conversation....” I hissed back.

“Dad likes black.” Joowon answered dutifully and I ruffled his hair. Jieun appeared then, having waited for her prince and gotten bored. She tugged on Joowon’s arm and I let him go, watching the two of them run off.

“Its only been a month, Sera.... I think you should tone down the infatuation. You know dad would never approve.” My sister said gently and I frowned.

“No he won’t, Dad loves me , he wants me to be happy.” I said shortly.

“Yes, but not with Jungkook. He’s a rogue vampire. He doesn’t have a clan. He has a kid ...”

“An angel of a kid...”

“he has a kid whose mother he had to kill because she was a bloodthirsty witch.”

i stared at my sister feeling anger build inside me.

“What does any of that have to do with how I feel about him?” I demanded , moving to stop one of the littles from tripping over a stray rubik’s cube.

“ You’re special. You’re being courted by some of the richest, most powerful vampires in the country and you want to go after the rogue , broke vampire who’s only here because he needs the money and the safety of our clan?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.” I said firmly.

Somi sighed.

“I’m just saying. Don’t be so blatantly open about your feelings. You’ll be putting a target on Jungkook’s back.”

I exhaled sharply.

“If anyone tries to hurt him, they die.” I said softly.

Somi chuckled.

“I know.... but still, he’s not looking for trouble. Don’t bring it to his doorstep.”

I didn’t reply, moving quickly to the other side of the room.

the words left a bitter taste on my tongue.

Mostly because my sister was right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i stared at the tall strapping vampire, trying to comprehend what I was hearing.

“What do you mean he isn’t here for the night?” I demanded.

“He’s a little tired. He told me had a little too much to drink and he wants to sleep it off. I’ll be here instead ... Just for tonight.” He tried to smile reassuringly and I was momentarily distracted by very deep dimples but I could feel myself fuming.

“and he didn’t think of saying that to me himself? He had to run off while i was closing up the cottage?” I glared.

The Vampire chuckled.

“He told me you might protest.”

“Of course i protest, I feel safer with him...” I said sharply.

The Vampire gave me a deep sigh.

“I’ve been doing this for three centuries, Miss Hwang. You’re definitely safe with me.” He bowed his head.

“What’s your name?” I demanded.

“Kim Namjoon.”

“Fine , Kim Namjoon ssi.... Let’s go. “

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Giving Namjoon the slip was a lot easier than I thought. I waited for him to greet my great uncle, and slipped between two waiters carrying blood cocktails and weaved into the crowd easily.

Jungkook’s bedroom was next to mine and it took me less than a minute to race up the stairs and to his room.

i banged on the door , determined to see for myself just how drunk he’d gotten.

The door opened and i took a deep breath.

“How dare you leave me-”

I froze when I realized that he was shirtless, fresh out of the shower. Water dripped down his torso , like little starbursts of liquid light and my mouth went dry. I swallowed, staring at the tightly packed abs, the dip of his v line as it disappeared into a fluffy white towel.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He growled angrily.

My eyes flew to meet his and then my gaze caught something red on his bed and I peered over his shoulder.

Pain lanced through my heart so sharp that I felt like I’d taken a fucking brick to my chest.

The sight of Helena, naked except for a red bra, stretched out on his bed got burned into my brain and I choked.

“You-” I began but he grabbed my arm, so hard that I knew I would bruise. He yanked me away from the threshold of his room, dragging me to the middle of the hallway as he slammed the door to his room shut.

“Where the fuck is Namjoon?”

“You ditched me to get laid? “ I hissed in disbelief.

“I can’t fucking believe you’re doing this-”

“Is she your girlfriend-”

“Sera-” he shook me again but I refused to back down. I had to know.

“Are you in love with her?!!!” I demanded, my heart breaking .

Jungkook growled.

“It’s none of your damned business!!” He snapped angrily .

“It is !!” I said shrilly.

“Why on earth-”

“Because I’m in love with you!!” I shouted and he froze.

He let go of me like he’d been burned and stepped back, staring at me wide eyed,.

“What did you just say?” He demanded.

“I want you. I want you to court me-”

“Sera stop.” He said sharply

“I’m not joking...I like you and-”

“Shut up.” He growled, his voice shaking.

I swallowed.

“If you say something as asinine as that to me , ever again... I will make you regret it. ” He warned softly.

I felt my heart jerk in panic.

“Jungkook-”

“It’s Mr. Jeon to you!!!” He growled.

I bit my lips, staring at my feet.

“I’m going to pretend this never happened. You’re going to go to your room and wait for Namjoon. If anything like this ever happens again, I’m telling your father.”

I laughed bitterly.

“I’m not fucking twelve years old you son of a bitch. Stop talking to me like I’m your toy or something !” I snarled.

“If you were my toy I would fucking spank you till you cry and lock you in a damn room!” He hissed.

I flinched.

He took a deep shaky breath.

“This never happened.” He said sharply. “ I’m not one of your boytoys. I have no interest in fledgling humans who know nothing about life. That's not the kind of woman I’m looking for. You’re not the kind of woman I’m looking for because you aren’t even a woman yet.”

“ Jungkook !!!” Namjoon’s voice rang through the hallway and I stepped back.

“Have a good night with your whore, Mr. Jeon.” I snapped, before turning on my heel and leaving.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Hot DILF! Vampire Jungkook is hot. This brings back fond memories of me panting after my husband as a nineteen year old brat . I was a devilish teenager smitten with a twenty seven year old man. Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed :D

#jungkook #jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fics #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook vampire #jungkook vampire au #jungkook reaction #bts vampire au #bts smut #bts au

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banqdanfnfic · 3 years

Text

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

1K notes · View notes

ptergwen · 3 years

Note

I think your requests are open (I didn’t see anything that said otherwise but I suck at this app lol) but I was wondering if you could write a peter x reader (likely college-age) where they have an academic rivalry and just tease each other a lot and lots of fluff and shit? It can be an established relationship or like a friends/rivals to lovers or really whatever you want. Sorry if this is super specific! Anyways, I love your writing, it always cheers me up :)

friends close, enemies closer

ik this is cherry BUT i had to

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing and hints of suggestiveness

a/n: thank you my love ! i’m actually obsessed with this concept so i’m super super happy with how it came out n i hope you are too :,)

you wipe sweat from your upper lip, peeking at peter’s laptop screen. he’s more than halfway through the paper your english professor tasked your class to write. he looks to have not a worry in the world as he continues to type away. growling at this, you dive right back into work.

you’ve been at each other’s throats since the beginning of classes when you both wanted the same spot. first row, middle seat. peter had officially claimed it in the end. you’d flopped down next to him and his irritating smirk.

the dude is smart, you’ll give him that. his knowledge of literature is almost as impressive as yours. almost. he raises his hand any chance he gets, effectively stealing your thunder if you dare to participate.

peter is also a bit of a people pleaser. he’ll chat up your professor at office hours, fascinate her with his hot takes on things or stupid anecdotes. you often get so annoyed that you bail before you even attempt to woo her yourself. the sight of you storming off is something peter thoroughly enjoys.

bottom line is, golden boy peter parker never loses. underneath the sweet, innocent persona he hides behind is a ruthless fighter. you’re determined to end his winning streak, thus sparking your ongoing competition to be better than the other in every way possible.

this time, your goal is to meet your ten page paper requirements the fastest. they aren’t due for weeks, but you and peter are banging them out in one sitting.

you’re hauled up in the campus library, sat side by side despite your wishes for peter to get his own table. he’d insisted on sharing with you. why, you haven’t a clue. you can’t stand him, and he isn’t the fondest of you either.

that’s what you tell yourselves, at least.

“progress report?” peter requests from you. “page three. you?” you grunt back. he props his feet up on the table, arms flexed behind his head. “finishing up page seven. you already knew that, though... creeper.”

god, you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

you glance over at peter, doing your best to ignore how his biceps bulge under his hoodie. nerdy little parker is ripped.

“worry about yours, i’ll worry about mine. thanks.” you reread the sentence you wrote prior to peter’s chiseled body distracting you. “oh, the irony,” he sighs and nudges the edge of your laptop with his sneaker. scowling, you shift the screen away from him.

about a minute of silence goes by until it’s unfortunately filled by peter. he stretches his arms out, finally removing his dirty shoes from the table.

“i’m gonna take five. maybe, you could use it as an opportunity to catch up to me,” peter cockily suggests. “spare me your charity, peter. i’m doing just fine without it,” you retort, letting out a scoff. peter raises his hands in defense. “if you say so, princess.”

here you were, naively thinking peter couldn’t become any more insufferable than he already is.

you slam your laptop shut and jab a finger at his chest. “jesus christ, how many times do i have to ask you not to call me that?” a patronizing pout adorns peter’s lips. “aw, i love it when you get all bossy on me. so cute.”

he grabs your hand still on his chest, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. you’re quick to wipe it off on his hoodie. nevertheless, there’s an undeniable heat rushing to your cheeks.

“well, i hate it when you call me princess,” you deadpan. peter tilts his head to the side. “do you?”

of course not. deep down, you live for the fuzzy feeling you get whenever the nickname slips from his tongue. oh, his tongue and the things it can do. poking out as he focuses hard on a question, running across his pink lips…

you have to reel it in. this is peter parker you’re fantasizing about, your mortal enemy.

“yes. i hate it, and i hate you,” you unsuccessfully convince the both of you. “no, you don’t,” peter rasps, darkened eyes scanning over your features. his stare is intense and intimidating. he grasps your chin between his thumb and index finger, slowly leaning in closer.

he’s not going to stop until you make him. you don’t want to, but you will.

you shove his shoulder, dragging your laptop towards you again. “on second thought, i could use that catch up. you’re not gonna throw me off my game, parker.”

your rejection seems to disappoint peter. his expression matches that of a kicked puppy, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest.

“we’ll see,” he murmurs and swings a leg over his chair. “alright, i’m gonna run to the caf. you want anything?”

he’s offering to buy you food now? what’s his angle here?

“i’d say yes, but i’m afraid you’ll poison it somehow,” you half joke. peter hops to his feet. “don’t give me any ideas,” he warns, snatching his backpack off the floor. “i’ll just surprise you.”

although you’re curious what his mystery snack choice for you would be, you can’t accept. you’d be going against your entire dynamic.

would that be so terrible?

absolutely.

you wave him off towards the double doors. “i’m good, peter. really. i’m not that hungry, anyway.” shaking his head, peter throws a backpack strap onto one shoulder. “y/n, your stomach’s been grumbling for the last hour. you gotta eat.”

he’s not wrong. you’re starving, but you’ve been too preoccupied by your essay to break for dinner.

“fine, surprise me,” you concede. peter flashes you a smile, this one void of its usual condescendence. “i’ll be back. try not to miss me too much,” he calls as he walks backwards to the library doors. “i won’t. shoo already,” you dismiss him, a laugh falling from your lips.

peter winks at you, then disappears into the night. you’re left with a serious case of butterflies and a certain freckle faced know-it-all on your mind.

that’s a problem.

you’ve managed to get another page done when peter reappears. he sits back down and slides a bag across the table, you closing your laptop. you dig into it to figure out what he picked for you. you’re not too pleased with his selection, however.

“oh, yummy. vomit in a cup,” you announce as you hold a green smoothie in your hand. peter reaches over and pats your thigh. “it’s good for you. drink up, princess.” you slap him away. “hard pass. i’d rather you have gotten me nothing.”

narrowing his eyes, peter pulls two cookies wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. “i’m guessing you don’t want these either? more for me, then.”

they’re chocolate chip and m&m, your favorite in the cafeteria. they just came out of the oven, so they’re still warm.

“how… how did you know i…” you trail off, peter setting the cookies in front of you. he offers you a lopsided grin. “i know a lot about you, believe it or not. i pay attention.” you surprise yourself by returning his smile. “thank you, peter. how much do i owe you?”

“nah, it’s on me,” peter assures you. “enjoy.” pushing aside your unappealing drink, you seize the cookies instead. “you have to eat, too. let me at least split these with you.” there’s a beat before peter nods. “fair enough.”

that results in you two munching on your cookies while pretending to write your papers. you’re sneaking glances at each other whenever the other isn’t looking, in reality.

once it’s about time for the library to close, you’re on the verge of passing out. peter is concluding his essay until he hears a thump from your side of the table.

he finds you with your cheek smushed against your keyboard and hitting random letters, snores escaping you.

chuckling to himself, peter places a hand on your shoulder. “hey, y/n?” he speaks in a hushed tone. you awake with a gasp, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. “easy there, princess. it’s only me.” he rubs circles on your back, and it’s oddly comforting.

“keep doing that,” you purr, momentarily forgetting how much you’re supposed to despise peter. he lets his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your lower back. “we should probably head out. it’s kinda late,” peter decides.

you sit up, bones aching and eyes forced open. “not yet. have to beat you first.” you start to delete the gibberish you accidentally typed. peter cups your cheek to turn your head towards him, your movements halting. “this one’s a tie. you did good, y/n/n,” he coos. “finish the rest another day.”

“why’re you being so nice to me?” you nearly whisper. peter uses his thumb to swipe the drool from your lips. “‘cuz i care about you. i might not show it, but i do,” he admits with the hint of a smile. “besides, i need you… for the, uh, the healthy competition.”

laughing softly, you twist his hoodie strings around your fingers and tug. “your intentions are pure as always. sure that’s all you need me for?” peter’s gaze darts to your lips, then your eyes. “we’ll see,” he repeats.

rivalry be damned.

“mm. i care about you too, parker. thanks again for tonight,” you hum. a blush coats peter’s cheeks, even in the dim library lighting. his sweet and innocent side might truly exist. “no problem.” peter links your pinkie with his, the gesture giving you that fuzzy feeling. “i’ll walk you back to your dorm?”

you lean over and kiss his pinkie intertwined in yours.

“lead the way.”

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