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1kook · 3 years

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card swiped (4)

→ jeon jungkook x (f) reader

→ “I’ve known Jungkook was a virgin since he first tried to tell me he wasn’t,” you tell him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows.” GENRE romance (romcom?), eventual smut, teensy angst WARNING mentions of a hand job, talk of virginity OTHER college crushes, volleyball player!jk, student council president!oc, idiots to lovers, besties to lovers, childhood friends au RATING m (18+) bc brief sex ment WC 1.6k

NOTES (!) sorry for taking so long to update </3 school be kicking my ass. anyway here they are! an idiot couple. lmk what u think!!

[ masterlist ]

In the past, whenever something had bothered you, the first person you ran to was Jungkook. Low grades, fights with your parents, boy drama— as your best friend and number one confidant, Jungkook was always your first choice. He was always willing to lend you a shoulder to cry on, even if that meant staining his white t-shirts with streaks of your mascara. He was always ready to go beat up a mean boy who had hurt your feelings during lunch, even if he’d miss his favorite special. And he was always down for some good old fashion i hate my parents ranting, even if he adored your parents. He was a great listener, an even better best friend, and had rightfully won you over from a very young age.

That being said, how were you supposed to talk to Jungkook about something that bothered you when that something was him?

You could easily tell any of your numerous girl friends, those of which would probably understand your predicament better than Jungkook or any man ever could. But after years of vehemently denying any notion of a romantic relationship between the two of you, you get the feeling your call for help will be met with more unimpressed glares than actual assistance. Besides, as much as you bring up Jungkook, none of them really know Jungkook to truly offer you any worthwhile advice.

Your next option: Kim Taehyung. Now, Kim Taehyung held a similar background as Jungkook (translation: he also went to the same high school as you). He knows both you and Jungkook—frankly, more than you’d like him to—so he would be able to dissect the issue easily and offer trustworthy advice. The problem with Kim Taehyung, however, is that aside from knowing you at your embarrassingly dorky teenage prime, he doesn’t know how to keep a secret. Anything he knows, Jungkook knows. So if you were to, hypothetically, ask Taehyung for advice on Jungkook, well. Chances are, you’d probably get a rather confused text from Jungkook two minutes later.

Which leaves you with one option— Park Jimin. There’s a reason Park Jimin isn’t your first option, and that reason presents itself now as you glare at him from across the empty room. For as long as you’ve been in university, Jimin has always lingered around the student council meetings, giving everyone he sees the prettiest, meanest stink-eye. You suspect it’s because he waits around for Min Yoongi, your Vice President (which isn’t an issue; Jungkook also frequents student council meetings while waiting for you), and doesn’t really care for anyone else. Your problem with Jimin doesn’t lie there but rather with the fact he’s adamant on taking up space and not lending so much as a finger to help.

Today he is sitting with his feet on the table, dirty volleyball bag tossed on the floor. He’s watched you for the last fifteen minutes wrestle with the broken copy machine and hasn’t said a word since. He pretends he doesn’t see you struggling, because if he does, he’d be obligated to help you.

To summarize, Park Jimin may be the fastest libero your university’s volleyball team has seen in years, but he’s a good-for-nothing bum everywhere else.

And despite all that, he’s your best choice. There’s no one quite as blunt and honest as Park Jimin. There’s no one in this world who truly doesn’t care enough about anyone’s problems to gossip about them as Park Jimin. You plop down beside him, rumpled papers in hand. Without warning, you jump straight into it. “Jungkook is going to take my virginity,” you announce, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. If any of your fellow student council members heard you, you’re certain you’d shrivel up and die.

Jimin hums. “That’s nice.” His eyes don’t leave his phone, thumb hovering over his screen. It’s a testament to how much he truly does not care. His extended silence plants a seed of doubt in you— was this the right person to tell? you begin to worry. But after a beat, Jimin’s thumb taps against his screen and he says, “Jungkook is a virgin.”

You clench your jaw. “I know.”

The thing about Jimin is, with the right wording, you can get him interested in something. Not interested enough to genuinely care, but interested enough to at least listen and offer his own piece of straightforward advice. His thumb comes to a standstill over his phone, eyes momentarily going blank. It’s a minute gesture, one that’s taken you four years of paying attention to catch. Just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone. “Really,” Jimin sighs, back to, you now realize, playing CandyCrush on his phone. “You’re gonna let a virgin take your virginity.”

Not a question, but you nod anyway. “Yup.”

There’s sweat building on the back of your neck, nerves at an all time high, but you’re trying to play it off. Just a little bit more and you know you’ll have caught him. Beside you, Jimin’s jaw twitches.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity of trying to act calm, Jimin clicks his phone off and turns to you. He’s as intimidating as ever, ash blonde hair pushed back today to reveal his forehead and dark eyes. “You’ve known Jungkook was a virgin this whole time?” he asks, has this calculating look in his eyes that makes you feel like you’re being questioned by an officer of the law and not the shortest person on the volleyball team.

With a practiced air of nonchalance, you shrug. “I have,” you confess, and it’s the truth.

While you may have been initially fooled that night two years ago, you weren’t that oblivious. Oh, you knew clear as day that Jeon Jungkook was still a virgin, just as well as you knew that he religiously washed his sheets every weekend or that he had a specific color coded system for his underwear drawer. Jungkook was a fool to try and lie to you, not only because you had found out, but because you had found out that very next morning.

It had been subtle. The night at the party, you had watched on with a throbbing heartache as some pretty girl led Jungkook up a set of stairs, had barely fought off a wave of emotion when he returned twenty minutes later, his hair a rumpled mess. “Did you… ?” you had mumbled, pressed closely against him by the back door. Your eyes had been glassy, from your emotions and from the drunken stupor you had gotten yourself into while he was away, wondering what he was doing. A sense of jealousy you would never admit to had curled around your heart. His hand had landed on your hip then. He smelled like flowers and vanilla, a smell unlike his own. Your heart clenched, hand mindlessly reaching up to cup his jaw, so drunk and heartbroken, you couldn’t stop yourself from trailing your fingers along his pretty cheekbones.

Jungkook had graced you with a simple nod, and then, “do you wanna leave now?”

You’d left, stumbling down Greek road on your way back to his dorm. Jungkook had held your hand the whole way, tucked you into his twin bed, and then promptly knocked out on the floor between his and Taehyung’s beds. The latter was nowhere to be found, wouldn’t appear until the next morning when he’d accidentally step on Jungkook’s ankle and wake both of you up.

Jungkook had yelped, and your eyes had fluttered open. You remember debating rolling over, checking on him like you wanted to, but Taehyung was already there doing just that. So you had laid still instead, listened as the two boys clattered around the room. They chatted mindlessly, about the party and tomorrow’s practice. Taehyung had been bragging about some girl he’d slept with last night. “What about you?” he had asked, and your breath caught in your throat. “Did you and…”—a pause, the distinct ruffle of fabric—“finally?”

“What— no,” Jungkook had said, and you felt the bed dip as he sat down on the edge beside you.

Taehyung pushed on with a snort. “Well, did you get lucky at all?”

Jungkook groaned, placed one warm hand on your back soothingly. You tried your best to level out your breathing, relaxed your facial expression as you clung to the sound of his voice. “Just a handjob. Some girl I didn’t even know. Does that count?” You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, felt it beneath your fingertips when you fisted the sheets.

And that curt admission sat in the back of your mind everyday for two years.

You turn to Jimin. “I’ve known Jungkook was a virgin since he first tried to tell me he wasn’t,” you tell him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows.”

Jimin lets out a low whistle. “You’re smarter than I thought,” he grins, this conniving little smile that is a genuine cause for concern. “So you’re letting him think you don’t know?” You nod. Jimin’s smile grows. “My, my. If I had known you were this evil, maybe we would’ve hung out more.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not evil,” you insist, flicking him on the nose. Jimin huffs indignantly. “I think what he’s doing is sweet…” you confess, feel your entire body heat up as you recall that wide-eyed look Jungkook had given you just yesterday afternoon, your kiss print fresh on his cheek. “And, well,” you look down at your shoes. “I used to dream about him being my first.”

Jimin groans. “You two make me sick.”

#networkbangtan #kwritersworldnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #bts #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jjk #mine

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professorrw · 3 years

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Heyy could you do a scott lang smut where he's trying to be more dominant im bed but obviously doesn't work bc hes such a sweetheart and clumsy and reader teases him about it so he decides to show her that he can be dominant when he wants to ;)

Thank you for the request! I feel like that is totally something Scott would do 🤣

Pairing: female reader x Scott Lang

Requested: Yes

Warnings: smut, 18+, fluff, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, pet names (sweetheart)

A/N: Requests are open for one-shots, headcanons, imagines, and drabbles for My Hero Academia, Harry Potter, and Marvel! My taglist is open so if you’d like to be on that just tell me! Please like, comment, and reblog!

Scott tries to be sexy. To you he already is, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to put on the moves in bed. When he tried to say something dirty it just didn’t sound right and would make you dissolve into giggles. Apparently your boyfriend didn’t appreciate that and it only made him try harder.

“Come on, wanna ride daddy?” he asked.

“Oh my god Scott stop. I can’t take it anymore.” You were clutching your sides they were hurting so much from laughing. You were laying in bed and he randomly started saying lewd things in a low voice. His green eyes were trained on you and a smirk was plainly displayed on his face. At least it was until you started laughing at him.

“You aren’t helping. I’m trying to be hot. Is it not working?” He was trying to hold back his smile but it was absolutely killing him. He himself felt strange saying such unfamiliar words. It wasn’t like him to act like a six foot five mafia boss. Scott was sweet and goofy, not dark and brooding.

“It’s not- I hate to break it to you. But I admire the effort.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek. He pouted but the smile reappeared on his face when you kissed him.

Right before your face could get away from him he caught your jaw in his hand. “I’m not done trying.” His gaze flickered from your lips to your eyes before he pressed his lips against yours. He really caught you by surprise doing that. It was something he’d never done before but you liked it.

His tongue slipped into your mouth and immediately took dominance. You didn’t know what switch flipped inside of him but you wanted to find it for next time too.

In no time he was completely on top of you, knees pressing into the bed on either side of your thighs. His arms were flexed and holding onto the backboard at either side of your head. His bulge was pressed against your stomach and you could feel a warm feeling growing in your lower regions.

He was kissing you with such an intensity it left you craving for more. When he pulled back your lips tried to follow his and he chuckled.

“Uh uh uh. If you want me you have to ask sweetheart.”

“Scott” was the only word that came out of your mouth before he was kissing you again. The hands that were on his sides had traveled further and were now pressed against his cock through his boxers. He took a sharp inhale when he felt that pressure against him but kept on with his kissing.

You took the liberty of pulling down his boxers and freeing his hard member. With your mouth still focused on his, your hands focused on the length you were now stroking. With one hand you pumped and with another you gently massaged his balls.

When you did that Scott accidentally bit down on your lip and groaned. You smirked and pulled just a few centimeters away. “You like that Scottie?”

He didn’t answer because he was still fighting to be the dominant one. Instead of reattaching his lips to yours he started to attack your neck. His hands quit clutching the headboard and came down to your chest. You weren’t wearing a bra beneath your nightshirt and he dipped his hands under the fabric and groped your boobs.

You were both fighting for control but with Scott pinching your sensitive buds and sucking on your neck it looked like he would win. You internally decided to let him win this and see what would happen. From what you could tell, dominant Scott was pretty fun.

Scott recognized your defeat and continued further down your body. He made a pit stop to kiss your nipples through your top and went even further to where your pajama pants began. He sat back up and pulled them down agonizingly slow.

You were waiting in anticipation for him to touch your needy core and in effect your eyebrows were drawn together and your bottom lip was in between your teeth. He glanced at you and saw that expression, which egged on his charade. You were giving him the exact response he wanted.

“Look at you sweetheart. You want it so badly,” he teased. The roles had officially been reversed and he was now the one teasing you.

He didn’t make you wait much longer though, for he pulled down your underwear and put it next to him on the bed. To make his life easier he hooked his hands under your legs and placed them on his shoulders. He had pulled you so high up that his face was less than a foot away from your pussy.

You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched with glossy eyes as he put his mouth to your clit. With the very tip of his tongue he licked it, teasing it. He attached his whole mouth to it and sucked. That warm feeling started to build and in a heartbeat your eyes were closed and your lips were parted.

He didn’t suck on your clit for long. He had other business to take care of first. He licked at your folds, getting a taste of you. He then pushed past them and into you. He moved his warm tongue all around your silky walls, curling and circling to his heart's content. You couldn’t see him with your eyes closed but the moans escaping your lips were setting his heart aflame.

Your arms were starting to ache and you gave a breath of relief when Scott set you down on the bed.

His act dropped for a second in worry. “Are you okay?”

“My arms were starting to hurt,” you admitted.

“I’m sorry sweetheart.” He leaned forward and kissed your cheek before he parted your legs once more. He was back on his knees and he was getting ready at your entrance. He moved the tip of his cock along your folds before inserting them past the barrier and into your velvety cavern.

You both release moans at the amazing sensation. Scott rocked back and forth on his knees, gaining momentum as he went on. From the tongue that he had just given you, you were close to your orgasm already. Scott was aware of that but he didn’t want to rush you into it.

He thrusted into you and hit your g-spot, sending a loud moan. He took that as a good sign and continued to try to hit that spot, succeeding multiple times until you were damn near your climax. His thrusts were getting sloppier and he was getting worn out but he wasn’t going to quit on you. He kept on thrusting and coaxing you with his voice.

“Come on baby. Come on, cum for me.” After repeating that and moans in general, sure enough you were there. A higher pitched moan came from your throat and you could feel the nice release wash over you. Scott thrusted more but slower now that you had cum.

He didn’t need intense thrusts to get him to his orgasm so he rode it out until he reached his orgasm. He came inside you and sat there for a minute so he wouldn’t make a mess. He reached next to him and grabbed his discarded underwear and held it under his cock when he slid it out.

You saw the whole thing and giggled.

He had quit acting tough and sexy and smiled. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

“I didn’t want to make a mess. I can clean the underwear pretty easily. It would be harder to wash the whole comforter.”

You playfully scoffed and pulled him down so he was lying next to you. You rolled over and laid your head against his chest. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed the top of your head.

“I love you Scott.”

“I love you too sweetheart.”

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posallys · 3 years

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i saw a post about percy and poseidon and i figured i'd drop this stupid little headcanon i have here (i also take stuff from this analysis, so go read that mayhaps)

Ya know how we’ve established i think that Percy’s fatal flaw should be control and not loyalty? And how I talked about the whole “Percy and Poseidon are quick to anger” thing in my analysis of them? And how it’s literally in their nature to want to be in control of everything around them?

okay, well, for whatever reason, percy is on olympus (maybe a solstice? maybe annabeth is talking about stuff for her rebuild? idk)

and a god somebody says something and it he gets pissed, and since his emotions are so closely linked with his powers, he accidentally triggers an earthquake

except, poseidon could obviously tell that there was going to be an earthquake bc he could feel it, so he just kind of pops in front of percy and grabs his wrists/hands and is like "that's an awfully big earthquake you almost caused, ya know."

And Percy’s kind of shaking because he could feel the way the anger took over and how he couldn’t stop the earthquake himself. He was trying so hard to restrain it, to hold it back, but he couldn’t.

He doesn’t really say anything to Poseidon, because he’s clenching his jaw to the point that it’s painful, but he looks up at Poseidon, and his eyes kind of give it away.

(and it may not have been obvious to anybody else, but it was obvious to poseidon because he can't even begin to count the amount of times that look has been on his own face)

So Poseidon takes a deep breath and closes his eyes and nods a little (meanwhile the rest of the gods are just like 👀 👀 because percy almost fucked a lot of shit up and poseidon is being very calm and also being a dad and trying to help his kid)

So he lets go of percy's wrists and is like "come with me"

And Percy kind of hesitates for a moment, but then Poseidon is like “It wasn’t a question” because he knows it’s probably the only thing that’ll help, so it’s Not A Question.

(and poseidon knows that he should have done it after the titan war. He should have helped Percy sooner, but he didn’t, so he has to do it now, and he’s going to do it, because he's not going to let percy keep walking blindly through the mess that is their powers)

Poseidon does some god shit and flashes them out to like. The middle of fucking nowhere. like just creates a little slab of land in the middle of the ocean. nothing around for hundreds of miles except open water

Percy just looks at him like wtf? "Dad, why are we in the middle of the ocean??"

And Poseidon just kind of chuckles and is like “yeah, actually, we are in the middle of the ocean. This is the point that’s as far from any land that you can get.”

“Uh? Why?”

“Because it gives me enough time to stop any damage before it happens.”

Percy’s like “???? what damage?? Pls explain”

“I should have done this after the titan war, Percy. I should have—well it doesn’t matter what I should have done. You have to learn how to let go, and I’m going to help you.”

And Percy doesn’t like the idea of that. He doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t trust himself not to hurt someone or cause destruction (after all, his name means to destroy).

He must be making a face because Poseidon looks at him sympathetically.

“I know it’s hard, Percy. Believe me, I know better than anyone.”

Poseidon pauses for a moment and then continues… “How do you survive a riptide?” he asks.

Percy answers immediately. “You have to let it pull you out. Eventually, it’ll let you go out the side or the back. You don’t want to fight it, though, because you’ll probably drown trying.”

Poseidon purses his lips and nods, and Percy’s looking at him confused for a moment, trying to figure out why his dad asked about a riptide (because Poseidon obviously knows how they work).

And then he Gets It. “You mean...I have to stop fighting…”

“You have to let go. You have to let yourself be carried out sometimes. The longer you fight, the more tired you get, and the worse it becomes. The sea doesn’t like to be restrained, Percy.”

“But I—” Percy’s voice cracks

“I know you don’t want to, but I promise you, it helps.”

Percy nods and lets Poseidon tell him what to do.

Poseidon tells him to scream. To really let everything out. “I know, I know, you’ll probably feel stupid doing it, but do it anyway. No restraints, no worries. let it flow out of you.”

And so he does. He screams the way he’s wanted to for what’s felt like forever at this point. And the ocean responds to him. It responds to his frustration and his anger and his pain. And the waves are rough and choppy and the sky is turning a shade of grey, and the ground is trembling, and then the waves are getting higher and higher and they’re building, building, building, and then they’re crashing onto the ground around him.

And it feels good, really. To let go. to not have to restrain himself

And Poseidon is there watching him (and he’d stop anything Percy may cause before it got to a place where it could cause harm (there’s a reason they’re in the middle of the ocean, after all)).

And Percy’s scream dies out, and he sits down and he breaths and he feels like the world has been lifted off of his shoulders again.

But he’s not done yet because Poseidon is coaching him through things, making Percy create earthquakes and hurricanes and tsunamis, helping him find the balance between controlling them and letting them control him.

And then poseidon teaches him how to release his anger. He walks Percy through the steps. Start with your hands; unclench your fists. Relax your arms, your shoulders. Roll them out, hold yourself up straight. Unclench your jaw, stretch your neck out. Don’t hold the anger back, but don’t let it consume you. You have to change it, you have to feel it. Let it move through you like water flowing down a river. Feel it in your arms and your fingers and your legs, but then push it out. Not aggressively—calm. It has to be calm. You have to let it carry you to a certain point, but you can’t struggle. It’s a riptide, Percy. Once you surrender to it, you can escape it. Once you surrender to it, you really have control.

And it works. Percy goes through the steps, slowly relaxing himself, letting it move through him until it’s no longer anger and he no longer feels like he’s being crushed.

“I caused a lot of destruction when I was a younger god, Percy. I didn’t have a good grip over my anger. It took me a long time to figure out that, while I may control the ocean, the ocean also controls me. Do you know why? Because I am the ocean, and so are you. The ocean is inside of you, and you must find the balance between controlling and being controlled.”

“How often do you do this?”

“Every few months. It’s easy to get caught in the cycle of control again. It’s in our nature to want to be in control, so conceding isn’t easy for us. So when I feel myself on edge, when I start angering quicker, I come here and I let go.”

So they make a habit out of it. They come out to the middle of the ocean every other month, or about as often as either of them needs it, and they let go, and Percy slowly gets better at becoming one with the ocean, better at finding the balance.

(and then they go to this diner in Montauk that Poseidon has a weird obsession with….)

And when Estelle is older, the three of them take the trip out to the middle of the ocean together, and they teach Estelle how to find balance. And she’s younger than Percy was, so her anger hasn’t had time to peak.

Unlike Percy, whose anger is silent, sneaky, creeping up out of nowhere (the way he’s smiling one moment and lashing out the next) Estelle’s anger was a storm you could see coming a hundred miles away. Her anger brews on the horizon, building and building, slowly getting bigger until there's nothing left but for it to shatter. Which makes it easier, really. She’s better at letting go than Percy is—she has time to let it dissipate before it reaches her.

#yes estelle is a demigod no i don't make the rules sorry #i feel like this is really hard to read so i apologize #but i have Thoughts #and this is just one of them #taylor's thoughts

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spiderparkerpeterman · 4 years

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headache

i typed this out after downing a coffee, forgetting i'm very sensitive to caffeine, forgot to save but then my laptop restarted for an update? so now i'm here four hours later bc i gave up on life, not so hopped up on caffeine but with a major headache and also it's 1am. enjoy!

content: stark!reader, fluff n cuddles, peter being a good boyfriend (tm)

warnings: lapslock, i've had to write this twice so i'm angry, post-endgame and yes this follows canon i'm sorry, feels, all the feels, angst and consequences of death, Tension

word count: probably less than my original draft (1528 words)

the jet ride back to the newly rebuilt avengers compound was quiet. the mission the reformed avengers had just been on was successful, an infiltration of a loose hydra camp, but there was a big hole in the team that had become apparent as soon as the mission had begun that left everyone in a tense silence.

missions were going to be very, very difficult now. teamwork-wise and mentally. emotionally. it had been, what, a year or so since your dad had... well, anyway. it seemed like such a long time ago- it was a long time ago- but you had been itching to go back out and do avenger-y things for months. leave it up to the starks to distract themselves from grief and pain by working their asses off. you had been tinkering, toying with your dad's old ideas, doing some minor patrolling stuff for a year, and god was it not enough to keep you distracted.

but then you had actually taken on the mission and then everyone noticed that there were a few missing links that almost cost the team the victory. your dad had been a rock, a point of leadership, an active brain on the team. capsicle had been someone steady, brave, always willing to take on the hard jobs. and nat- nat- she'd take out a room full of men three times her size with ease and still have breath to keep going until every last man was down. sparklefingers was off in space with a rodent, a robot, and a lovesick asshole; that marvel lady had disappeared as soon as she could; the wizard was back at his boys' club; robin hood had officially retired, even leaving his bow behind for the rustic life; and orange slices had said something about "making up for lost time" with his daughter, leaving only you, captain birdman, edgy amnesiac, smart hulk and a handful of ironsuits you'd created over your little break, to regroup and do the mission.

and peter, of course. you could never forget about peter. especially not when he was sitting next to you, your hand in his, jaw clenched, staring at his lap.

the poor kid. you knew your dad was also kind of his dad, the only father figure he'd had since ben. the kid kept losing father figures- probably some kind of curse, you had reasoned with yourself, because this was getting out of hand. you had been by his side when he decided to return to spider-man-ing, a month or two after your dad had... yup. done that thing. he had been by your side when you went into your dad's lab in his lakehouse for the first time since the incident, some four months later. you had his back after the whole mysterio-then-court scenario. he had your back when you had your first major panic attack because you realised that you just couldn't cope. you had each other's backs, you had for three, well, technically eight years now. since just after peter had been taken on by your dad to beat some sense into the others in germany.

coming back from the blip was weird. the entire situation was weird. you had been blipped, dusted, gone, worried and confused about your father being on a giant donut in space with peter, and then you had come back five years later lying on your dusty, unused-for-five-years bed, then the compound was blown to smithereens, you were saved by your suit that you still had on after helping keep the wizard safe, discovered your dad had moved out to the country and had also had another kid- who you loved to bits, of course you did- and also your dad had invented time travel.

and then he was gone, forever.

so yeah. massive hole in the team, everyone was quiet, peter looked like he was going to throw up, you were trying not to cry.

you realised peter was looking at you, and you had been staring at him for a little too long. he squeezed your hand, his eyebrows raised slightly. he looked like a kicked puppy, and oh god, your heart hurt.

"sorry," you mumbled, looking away. sam raised his head but averted his eyes when you accidentally made eye contact. you felt a headache coming on- all this stress about the mission and hole-in-the-team stuff was not good for your physical, emotional or mental health. you rested your head on peter's shoulder, feeling his head rest on yours in return. you closed your eyes, tuning out the sound of the quinjet, just focusing on your breath and peter's soft circles that he was rubbing into your hand.

at some point, you drifted off because you awoke to peter gently nudging your shoulder, the quinjet landing. you blinked blearily at him.

"you okay?" he asked, cupping your cheek. you closed your eyes again and leant into his hand.

"headache," you mumbled, turning your face into his hand and kissing it a light kiss. "i'll be okay."

as soon as you stood up to get out of the quinjet though, a wave of nausea washed over you, forcing you to sit back down.

"or not."

peter rushed to pull you up gently, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he held both of your bags in his other hand. he helped you out of the quinjet, into the compound and up to your room.

exhausted and sore, your head pounding like nothing else, you collapsed on your bed, absentmindedly taking off your wrist cuffs with your nanosuit in them, kicking off your shoes. peter puttered around, putting his bag down then your bag down then taking off his webshooters, shoes and jacket, pacing the room looking at you worriedly.

"do you need anything? like- like aspirin or water or juice or music? i head whale noises can help with a headache and-"

"peter," you mumbled.

"- but i haven't had a headache since i got my powers so i kind of don't know what to do and-"

"peter," you said, a little louder.

"- i think i should get you some aspirin, yeah, and i'll close the curtains, and-"

"peter!" you called, regretting it as your head pounded particularly hard. peter stopped pacing, and looked at you. "stop pacing, you're giving me motion sickness. and please- just keep it down, i just need quiet okay? you can go get what you want, some aspirin would be nice, and a gatorade too. but please calm down. it's just a headache, i'm tense and stressed. it'll go away soon."

peter nodded and rushed out of the room. you lay on your back with a small groan, staring up at the plain white ceiling of your room. before the compound had been destroyed, you'd put glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of your bedroom with your dad, and you could look up and stare at the fake constellation stories you had made, giggling with your dad. now the ceiling was empty, strange, unfamiliar. everything was- you had lost almost everything that night. your eyes burned with tears, which you wiped away, keeping your hand over your eyes, fighting the need to throw up.

a few minutes later, you heard your door swing open as peter reentered. you took your hand away from your face and looked at him, balancing two boxes of aspirin and four bottles of gatorade in different colours. he smiled at you gently as he put the stuff on your bedside table.

"let's get you sitting up, yeah?" he whispered, the look in his eyes oh so tender. he sat behind you, resting your back and head on his side so you didn't have to move too much and took out two small aspirin tablets. "i didn't know which colour gatorade you wanted so i got you all of them."

"i'll have the red one, thanks," you replied, taking the tablets and then the gatorade that peter opened, swallowing the pills with a large mouthful of the drink.

you sighed and moved so that you were lying in his lap and looked up at him. you giggled.

"what?" he asked, and you raised a hand to poke at his jaw.

"how do you not even have a double chin from this angle?" you pouted, "it's not fair."

"spiders," he replied, "they tend to do that to you."

you giggled again and sighed again, closing your eyes.

"i should go," peter whispered, raising your head so he could slip away from under you. "you want quiet, yeah?"

"i never said i didn't want you in here," you muttered. "i'm in pain, comfort me."

peter grinned and obliged, maneuvering you so you were lying under your blankets then slipping in next to you. he lay your head on his chest and wrapped an arm behind your neck so you were secure. you rolled onto your side, an ear to his heart. his heartbeat was so steady, as usual.

"i love you, and want you to know that you did great today," peter mumbled, stroking your hair.

"love you too. you also did really well. thanks for having my back."

"any time."

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maknaesdancersrappers · 6 years

Text

Johnny + Belt

Requested (long overdue tbh)

A/N: This was so hard to write because we have this one prof who looks like Johnny (not in a good way?? Like it’s awkward for us) and guESS whaT? He’s our photography prof *ahem* johntography *ahem*

Warnings: smut, spanking, dirty talking, light bondage and choking

also, Idol!Reader

and unedited bc i can’t

-------------------

You never learn your lesson.

Johnny wasn’t the type to get so irked easily; he’s a very chill guy. He lets you flirt with his members, of course, in a playful and platonic way. He isn’t so fazed when your stylists decides to put you in skimpy clothing for your live stages with your group (He highkey enjoys them.)

But if there’s one thing that gets on his nerve, of all things, it’s when you would gaze over him during your performances on award shows, when the choreo gets a little too frisky and just hold his attention.

He hated that. He hated it only because it turned him on so much and god forbid anyone see him sport a raging hard on, especially in a public and televised event.

He had already told you off the first time, a hard spank on your ass to serve as a warning, but he should have known a kinky girl like you would take that as one.

“Stand by the bed.”

“Johnny, that wardrobe malfunction wasn’t my fault!”

“You don’t have the right to talk back so take those clothes off and stand. by. the. bed.”

You shut your mouth and strip off your dress, along with your underwear. You station yourself at the foot of the bed, back straight and arms on the side--just how he want you to be. Johnny takes his time to remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves up to his elbows, all the while staring you down.

It really wasn’t your fault that the leather shorts you wore ripped around the thigh area and slowly crept up your crotch. It happened near the end of the performance, but your ending pose required you to kneel on one knee and spread the other to match your groupmate on your side, which basically meant your crotch is open to the audience. To make matters worse, the shorts were so tight that any panties you wore under it would be too obviously so you made the decision not to wear any for the performance.

Big mistake.

Not only did your shorts rip and you almost bared yourself for whole world to see, Johnny was well aware that you didn’t have underwear on and you could practically see him fuming when your performance ended. You were lucky enough that the sleeves of your top were long and flowy so you could cover up the damage, but it wasn’t enough to hide it from your boyfriend.

He walks up to you, looking down your body once before sitting down on the bed. He pats his lap and you gulp, lowering yourself so your midsection rested on his thighs.

“When will my baby ever learn?” He sighs, his large palm gliding up and down your thighs. “Teasing me that you’re not wearing anything under those shorts is one thing, but to rip them and have the whole world see that tight pussy of yours-- have them see what’s mine?”

“I didn’t think it would rip--ah!” He slaps your ass, making you punctuate your retort with a moan.

“Now my baby has the audacity to talk back after being naughty.” Johnny smooths over the spot he had slapped. He releases another sigh, “Naughty girls need to be disciplined. First things first, what’s our safe word?”

“Red.”

“Good girl. Now, let’s begin.”

You shut your eyes as you wait for the first hit to come. When it does, you accidentally yelped out loud, hands grabbing the edge of the bed for some sort of support. He continues to spank you, alternating from each of your butt cheek and lightly massaging it. Each slap making you moan and twitch under his hold.

“Ah, my baby is such a slut, isn’t she? She likes to be spanked by my hand, right?” Johnny spanks you harder.

“Yes!” You cry, practically shaking from his actions.

“But you never learn your lesson, maybe this isn’t enough.” He runs a finger along your wet folds, scratching your clit before trailing it backup and giving you one last spank. He pulls you off of him and pushes you on the bed, face down and ass up. “Spread your legs and stay still.”

You obey him immediately, breathing heavily as you waited for his next move. You hear the sound of his belt being unbuckled and in a few seconds, you feel the leather strap hit the side of your thigh. A surprised half cry, half moan escapes you. His belt definitely hurt a lot more, but it strangely felt good (almost better) than his hand. He does the same pattern of spanking each cheek and softly rubbing it with his other hand.

Each slap of his belt was harder than before and each smack on your ass made you flinch on contact. A moan would leave your lips every now and then and you’d arch your back more, practically offering your ass to Johnny for him to use.

The sight of you was so lewd and erotic that Johnny was sure his erection was about to burst out of his pants. He gave your pussy a few tentative slaps with his belt, making you whimper at how sensitive you were now. Your juices coated the belt strap, leaving every following slap with a wet sound. He strikes it with a little more force and that alone pushes you off the edge and makes you cum.

And then it happened so fast that you don’t even know when and how your arms were bound around your elbows by his belt, but before you can even think of it, you were screaming in absolute pleasure when his dick slides completely into you.

“My baby is such a slut, all wet from her punishment--fuck, [Y/N], you’re dripping.” He cusses, holding onto the belt with one hand as he uses it to thrust into you.

You couldn’t get one coherent word out of your mouth, jaw dropped open at the overwhelming sensation between your legs. Your second orgasm hits you without any warning, screaming into the sheets as you attempt to get a grip on something but Johnny holds the belt tighter, further restricting your movements.

With your body convulsing and you choke out moans, Johnny merely smirks. He stands up straight and stays still, using his hold on the belt to move you along his dick. It starts out slow, his cock easing in and out of you in a slow pace to help you ride your orgasm out. But once your body stills, he quickly buries himself inside you, pleasure shooting into your veins. He lets you fall into the bed slowly, still controlling your body with the belt around your elbows.

And he repeats this.

Pulling you by your makeshift reins as quick as he can, your pussy encasing his hard length in one go, and then loosening his grip so you would slide out. His breathing becomes low, harmonizing with your whimpers as it fills in the silence of the room.

Johnny starts to pick up pace and you begin tearing up at how sensitive you were. His thrusts begin to become erratic with his hips slapping against the back of your thighs.

“Johnny!” You cry out, mouth slacked and drooling.

He pulls you up and lets go of his belt to hold you by your hips and breast, your back arched away from him. “Do you want me to stop? Say the word, baby.” He hisses into your ear, following it with a sloppy kiss down your neck. His fingers dig into your right boob, roughly kneading them before pinching your hardened nipples.

“N-no!” You shake your head, trying to rock your hips to meet his thrusts.

He chuckles at your attempt, letting you go to fall back on your arms on the bed before roughly thrusting into you.

“Oh, shit.” You curse, biting down on your lip as you feel your third climax building up.

Johnny reaches down and slaps your ass, still red and raw from it’s beating earlier. It makes you clench around him, making him moan at the tightness. His other hand finds your clit and the second touches it, you shoot up, pressing your back against him.

“No, wait!” You moan out, “John-Johnny, stop!”

But he thrusts into you deeper and pinches your clit harder, your body shaking once more at the incoming wave of pleasure.

“Don’t you dare cum.” He growls, putting a loose hold on your neck.

“It’s too much!” You whine, your arms finally breaking free from the belt and frantically holding onto his wrist.

“Then say the safe word.”

You can’t and you won’t. It felt all too good and stopping it now would just disappoint both of you. “I can’t hold it in.”

“Then you know what to do.”

His fingers rub furiously against your sensitive bud like an ultimatum and you take the bait.

“I’m sorry! I’ve learned my lesson! I’ll make sure to wear safety shorts all the time! I won’t tease you on stage anymore! Please, please let me come, daddy, I promise I won’t do any of it again!”

He climaxes first, grunting low as he fills you up, triggering your own orgasm to release.

Johnny holds you close, kissing your shoulder as you thrashed around in his arms.

When both of you calm down from your high, he slips out of you and guides you down the bed, spooning you from behind.

As you catch your breaths, Johnny chuckles, “I didn’t mean to cum before you, but you caught me off guard there for a second, calling me daddy and all.”

If the sex hasn’t made your face red, then blushing from your slip up definitely should. “It slipped.”

“And I like it.” He kisses your hair, “Are you okay? Do you hurt anywhere?”

You giggle, “Nothing I can’t handle.” You look over your shoulder, “I like the belt. You should use it more often.”

He narrows his eyes at you, “You said you’ve learned your lesson.”

“Who said anything about using the belt on me just for punishment?”

His face splits into a smile, “Ah, what have I done?”

#i havent written smut in such a long time #expect more smuts to come #nct #nct 127 #nct 2018 #nct scenarios #nct smut #johnny scenarios #johnny smut

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darthkylorevan · 6 years

Note

Clydeland 90: remember when we were little

“building bridges”-rated t, 1.7k, read on ao3 here!

(please note that this is a sort of sequel to sstensland’s clydeland ficlet here, please read that to get a sense of what’s going on; it isn’t a complete sequel bc i change some small things but otherwise it is)

“Remember when we were little?”

The words were accidental; Stensland hadn’t meant to let them out, still laying in Clyde’s bed (he tried not to think of how it had been their bed, before) not ready to leave just yet, even though he should, even though he should have a whole life ahead of him, one that didn’t include Clyde. Yet here he was.

“Hm?” Clyde shifted next to him, just slightly closer. Stens tried not to pay attention to the points of contact between them, to the heat from skin on skin.

“When we were little.” He turned on his side, against his better judgment, to look at the man next to him. He only just managed to not reach over, to run his hands along his jaw, his neck, his shoulders. He shouldn’t want that, couldn’t want that. This was...this wasn’t supposed to have happened in the first place, but it had, and he couldn’t take it back.

Clyde smiled at him softly, softer than he deserved. “We did a lot of things when we were little.”

A wry smile. Stensland couldn’t deny the truth, however. They’d known each other since elementary school, silent Clyde protecting him from the older kids that wanted to pick on him for his looks, his accent. They’d been inseparable since. The best of friends to high school sweethearts; no one would have ever guessed they would end up like this, just short of divorce.

And here he was, back in Clyde’s bed again, unable to resist him like he always had been.

“When we’d go to the bridge.”

Stensland felt a hand brush along his side, fingers tracing the line of his waist down to his hips. He tried--and failed--to hold in a shiver at the touch, at the gentle way Clyde looked at him, like he used to when they were in high school, in college, before this mess, before he ran. He’d believed he’d never see that look again and yet…

Clyde grinned at him, that large, lazy grin that always had his heart beating a little faster. “When I’d drag you out of school with me to go there, you mean.”

“Does it really count as dragging when I went willingly?”

Stensland tried to look put out when Clyde only laughed at him, but he knew the truth, which was that he wasn't entirely willing to leave the school on their nearly monthly trips to the New River Gorge Bridge. They didn’t always skip school to go, but it was often enough he’d always been sure the administration had noticed their simultaneous absence, sure their parents knew. Nobody had ever said anything, though; had just let them be.

He let Clyde pull him closer, cheek pressed against his shoulder, a hand still running along his side. Stens almost hated how much he missed this, missed him. He shouldn’t want to stay in the bed forever, comfortably nestled at Clyde’s side; he had a life out there, away from him, away from West Virginia. And Clyde...well, Clyde deserved better than him, better than the pathetic person he’d become even when he had left to become a better person. Instead, he’d quickly fallen right back into the comfort of Clyde’s arms, unable to resist him, even after all these years away.

“What made you think of the bridge?” Stens loved his low voice, the way he said each word carefully, his easy accent. He’d always envied him that southern accent, the soft lilt easy to the ears, perfectly encapsulating the southern ideal of hospitality and sweetened iced tea. His own accent was awkward and misplaced comparatively.

“Just...this. When we went there, it was just us. Us versus the world.” His words were soft as a finger trailed circular shapes into Clyde’s collarbone, not daring to look up at him, not knowing--or more accurately not wanting to face--what he would find there. “We were so far up from the river, it was like we were invincible. Nothing could ever touch us. It felt like it was just us, forever. That was what this felt like. It was...you were….everything.”

He wanted to bury himself into the bed and not come out. This wasn’t...none of this was how anything was supposed to go, and here he was, digging a deeper hole for himself the moment he’d started talking again.

“Stens…”

“But then we had to walk back home, Clyde, face the world again. It’s...we can’t do this. I...had, no, I have something beyond here.”

“Beyond us.” It wasn’t a question; Stensland nearly flinched at the implications.

“I...no...yes. But, Clyde, it...it was never about you. Not like that. I didn’t…” He turned then, not able to face him, not able to take in the comfort being freely offered. Instead he faced the walls, still that horrible yellow he’d always complained about. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to leave here, leave your home, just to follow my stupid dreams, it would be unf--”

Stensland’s words were cut off with a squeak as Clyde was suddenly looming over him, knees bracketing his hips as he had, perhaps by a sort of instinct, moved so his back was on the mattress once more. There was now nowhere he could look without feeling like he was losing; his gaze anywhere would be obvious. Resigned to his fate, he looked up into Clyde’s eyes, feeling that pang of hurt and regret with the expression he found there, with how his gaze bored into him.

“Clyde,” he whispered, feeling like he couldn’t--he shouldn’t-- raise his voice above it in that moment, like if he did, he would ruin everything; it would fracture around him.

“Stens, you…,” Clyde sighed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. When they opened again, Stensland was struck again by the emotions he saw there, coupled with the hurt evident by the draw of his brow, the downturn of his mouth. He felt the urge to kiss that look off his face, as he had so many times in the past. But he couldn’t--that wasn’t his job anymore, hadn’t been for a long time.

“You thought...you really thought I wouldn’t drop everything for you?”

“Clyde, I--”

“No, Stens, just let...let me talk.”

He only nodded, his heart now racing.

“After all this time, after everythin’ I’ve fucking done for you. I know we had to move to Boone to take care of Momma and it was backtracking from what we wanted, having to live in this trailer but I...it was going to get better, I swear. I told you, I had plans, and we were gonna get out of here, you could be wherever you wanted.”

Clyde was shuddering now, tears starting to form at the corners of his eyes. Stensland wanted to reach up, wipe them away, but really, he didn’t deserve that, did he?

“Dammit, Stens. Everything I’ve done is for you. This may have been my house, where I lived, but you, Stens, you were my home. I didn’t want to be anywhere but with you. Fuck, I’d live in a cardboard box in the city if it meant I was with you.”

Tears were falling now, rolling down his cheeks just slightly before falling off down onto Stensland. He could see the effort Clyde was making to keep himself up, his arm trembling with it. Reaching up, he wiped away a tear beginning to form before pushing at his left shoulder. He got the hint and carefully sunk back down on the bed next to Stens, curling against his side, his arm finding its way under his neck again so his hand could rest against Sten’s arm, thumb rubbing circles into it.

“I want to be selfish again, Stens. I want to demand you take me back, fuck your divorce, fuck whoever made you want it, want to keep you here with me again, or keep you wherever, it doesn’t have to be here, as long as I have you.”

“Clyde…” He rolled over so they were once again facing each other, not able to take this without looking at him, but also just that bit of scared to do so, still scared of what he’d see in Clyde’s expression, not wanting to face the hurt that had been there since he’d shown up in town three days ago.

“But I can’t. I still fucking can’t, not if it risks your happiness. Fuck, I just want you to be happy.”

“I want you to be happy, too,” Stensland rushed out, before Clyde could take over again. “That’s why...I thought you were happier here, would be happier here than in any city. You’re a country boy, Clyde, and I love that about you, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t think you’d like living in the city.”

“ You make me happy. I don’t fucking care where it is, Stens, I just...I just want to be with you. If I can’t..If I don’t make you happy anymore, though, I’ll just...I’ll just deal with it. But I couldn’t just let you go, Stens, not without...not without talking to you. I know we weren’t good at that before, and that’s probably my fault I just...I wanted everything to be okay and I was bullheaded and didn’t see that you weren’t happy and it’s my fault and I’m sorry.”

“No Clyde, I’m sorry. I should have...I should have said something, anything. I just...I got trapped and scared and I didn’t think anything through. Clyde, fuck, I’m sorry. I know it’s ten years too late, but I’m sorry.”

Stensland leaned forward then, pressing his lips to Clyde’s, trying not to get lost in them, knowing it was probably a lost cause. He whispered soft “I’m sorry”s between kisses, savoring the warmth he felt from it, from this.

Clyde finally pulled back, a crooked grin across his reddened lips. “Well, ain’t we two idiots?”

He barely contained his snort. “Just a bit, maybe.”

“We still...I know we still got a lotta talkin’ to do, but...do you want to go for a drive?”

“A drive?” Stensland looked up at him, confused, Clyde’s wide grin only fueling that confusion.

“Yes,” Clyde answered, pressing another kiss to Stensland’s lips, leaving him wanting more, again, wanting to follow him as he drew back. “A drive. I think a certain bridge would be nice to visit.”

#kylux #star wars #kylo ren #armitage hux #clydeland #clyde logan #stensland #my writing #this is a lot sadder than i had intended #i'm sorry #but it has a kind of happy ending??#dressesandcarresses

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