#BASHES MY HEAD INTO A WALL AND BREAKS THE PLASTER

[shima-draws]

Banging my head against the wall I’m SO deep into the trope of Person A being like “I have to keep being useful and doing whatever I can to please Person B if Person B ever stops needing me I’ll literally die I’m so so scared that they’ll stop needing me” and Person B saying without any hesitation “I’ll never stop needing you”

[coffeedepressionsoup]

Somebody Does Love | MYG - He Thinks Nobody Knows

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.

This is the one where his friends rallied around him to own up to his feelings. Part 6 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 2.7k+

Warnings - mentions of drinking, swearing

Ratings - 13+

Taglist: @majiiisstuff @starlighttaek8 @yoongrace @proudnoona @7ndipity

A/N - Apologies yet again! This took forever to finish. Even on days that I thought I would finish it, either my body would betray me and doze off or my head refused to cooperate. Hope you have fun though. Idk what it is about flustered Yoongi that fills my heart up so much! Not proofed.

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“One more time guys! Come on,” Jungkook urged, half panting, hands on his hips. He looked at Taehyung who was beside him a second ago but now was sprawled on the floor of the dance studio. This new choreography was tiring. 

“Let’s break for 10,” Justin, the choreographer, said. The dancers agreed and dispersed to different sides and corners of the room. Namjoon, Jin and a couple of other dancers left to get some juice from the cafeteria vending machine.

Yoongi plopped down on the floor at one end of the room, dragged his bag towards him and fished out his phone. He smiled down at the message that he saw first and honestly, was anticipating all day long. He typed out a quick reply, with the same smile plastered on his face.

Jimin, standing in front of him, opening a bottle of water, asked, “Is Y/N coming along then?” Yoongi nodded his head, almost involuntarily and then stopped typing and snapped his head up with a frown replacing the smile, almost comically, making the younger one laugh.

“Stop peeping into my phone!” he said.

“Nobody is peeping shit.”

“How’d you know then?”

“You had that stupid Y/N smile on.”

“What Y/N smile?”

Hoseok groaned from a little further away and said, “You guys should really just fuck already,” earning an eye-roll from the older man. He shook his head at the hint of denial and added, “You have that stupid lovestruck little grin on your face whenever you’re around her or even at the mention of her!” 

Yoongi’s cheeks and ears turned bashful red as he went back to his phone and muttered, resting his back against the wall, “I am not lovestruck.”

Jimin let out a chuckle at that and looked towards Hoseok who rolled his eyes this time but with a knowing smile.

Yoongi still felt flustered, an unexplainable nervousness wracking his head. He brought the phone closer to his face as he saw the animated typing bubble pop up on the chat. At Aera’s party, he had gathered enough courage to ask for her number, directly. It was not smooth. Or very subtle. But it did the job. That is enough for now.

“I just realised that we don’t have each other’s contacts yet,” Yoongi muttered, feeling his cheeks and ears heat up.

“You’re right,” Y/N nodded, leaning against the chair he was sitting on. She pulled her phone out, “Tell me your number, and I’ll leave a text.”

They were about 7 or 8 pegs in, each. Yoongi managed to start and sustain a few short conversations with Y/N so far when she was not engaged with her other friends.

Even when she was not talking with him, Yoongi’s attention was stuck on her. Watching her laugh, frown, dance with the others. He tried to not stare but he was not sure he succeeded much. He also learnt of how Aera first met Y/N on a holiday in Brussels. He tried and absorb as much information as he could. Audio. Visual. Anecdotal. 

Ever so often he realised that there is so much about Y/N that he does not know yet. A part of him was resolute to know more. At par with the others, whom she has had core memories and inside jokes with. Another part was hesitant. What if his interest is unwelcome? What if he is being selfish and inconsiderate?

Soon after, Dojoon and Jaehyeong proposed that the group (present at the "party") take a weekend trip to Sokcho. There were also a couple of days of public holidays, and Hajoon owned a beach house to comfortably house them all.

From the surprised look on the drummer’s face, it was clear that his bandmates did not consult him on the matter. But Hajoon enthusiastically agreed. He offered to drive up a day ahead and make all arrangements.

Sammy and a few others had preplanned personal or professional engagements in those days. But most people around the room agreed.

Yoongi had not said anything yet. As people around him started murmuring plans, his eyes went to Y/N. She glanced at Sammy and shook her head.

He felt his heart skip a beat.

Soon Jaehyeong pulled Y/N up from the armrest of the sofa that she was resting against, coaxing her to dance and spoke louder over the music and the chatter. “No excuses, you are coming.”

“Yeah I will take care of Ash, don’t worry,” Sammy offered.

“Stop behaving like you don’t know any of us,” Eunjae, another of their friends, chimed in.

Of course, she now knew so many of them. Some of them, she had also vacationed with before. But never without Sammy. But she had to deal with those nerves. A) She has to step a little out of her comfort zone. B) She wanted to go to the beach, especially if a certain acquaintance was also going. She had not heard him disagreeing, so she hoped that he was coming.

Slowly her attempts to disagree were shut down by her friends screaming louder than the last person. The ruckus carried on for a few seconds till she sighed out loud and said, “Fine, I will come.”

A few minutes later, Y/N came back and sat beside Yoongi, “Are you coming to Sokcho?” she held his gaze, unfaltering. She thanked the liquor in her system for calming her relatively jumpy nerves. He smiled and nodded. She nodded back. “Okay, good.”

Now, in the practice room, a message showed up on Yoongi's phone, “Is it going to be a shirt over a t-shirt kinda cold, or sweater and hoodies kinda cold?”

Yoongi did not notice his smile coming back, as usual, the others did. Before he could reply another message popped up, “I don’t want to overpack and tug along an unnecessarily large bag.”

Sokcho in April is pleasant. Yoongi has been there around this time before. “Shirts over t-shirts should be fine,” he replied. Instantly, an image of Y/N in one of his light blue shirts flashed across his mind. He could feel his cheeks heat up again.

“Perfect! See you tomorrow then :)” 

“See you :)” [Can’t wait!]

______________________________________

The aforementioned tomorrow arrived agonisingly slowly. Yoongi had spent the evening with a couple of his friends. The alcohol did nothing to calm him. His friends persistently teasing him did not help. He thought he was private enough with his feelings for you. But with some of his dumbest friends catching up to it, he began to fear if you had an inkling. Surely, you must have known. Did you think he was odd? Creepy even? But why would you still be friends with him then? Surely, if you knew how much he liked you, and it did not make you uncomfortable, maybe you liked him too?

“You know, Sammy has probably told Y/N by now,” Yijeong said, smacking his lips as he put down the shot glass. He reached out for a chicken wing, but Yoongi slapped his hand away, picked up one of the biggest pieces and tore into it.

Hoseok laughed, his drunk-flushed face getting redder. “Why don’t you just tell her how you feel? What’s the worst that could happen?” he said, folding his arms over his chest, spreading his legs out and up on the chair next to Yoongi.

Yoongi frowned back at his friend and almost dared him to answer his own question with his stare. Has Hobi actually forgotten the whining, pining piece of battered butter he had become when he was crushing on Hyeri (Hobi’s now girlfriend), not even an entire year back?

Breaking eye contact, Hobi shrugged a little before pouring himself another drink.

“Yeah just tell her man,” Yijeong urged, stopping to suck on the chicken bone and adding, “The more you wait, the worse the what ifs get.”

Yoongi gave his friend a side-eye but internally applauded this rare bit of wisdom.

“I want to,” he said in a quiet tone, alerting the other boys to the gravity of his words, a more understanding demeanour dawning over them, replacing their shit-eating grins.

“I mean, I have tried to— rather planned to tell her for a while,” Yoongi continued. “Every time I think of her, I am more convinced than ever that I should ask her out,” gesturing lively with his hands to signify something.

“You know like.. for a good old date, becau- because.. she has such a warm, comforting presence that I can be completely myself with her, no judgements, and I.. keep imagining all these scenarios where she can be as comfortable with me and share her likes and dislikes.” He stopped for a breath.

“I want to give her that space as well. But every time I am with her I am so soaked up in the conversation that there is no beat to bring this up, and when there is a pause, I see her interacting with Sammy or Dojoon, people who she has known for years I mean, and I feel like I will never know her as they know her and maybe I am intruding. Fucking hell, I can’t stop feeling like I am not worth her time - me, my life, all of this,” he gestured around at his very posh and minimalistic living room.

“Yeah, all of that sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” Hobi groaned once he was certain Yoongi’s self-pitying soliloquy was over.

At a questioning look from the older guy, he shrugged and said, “See I know how difficult it is to open up to someone, especially for you. While you have every right to feel anxious and giddy, you cannot make decisions in your head on behalf of the person you like.” 

Yoongi was about to say something, probably along the lines of ‘I am not doing anything on behalf of her,’ but sensing a rebuttal, Hobi leaned forward, held a finger up and looked directly into Yoongi’s eyes.

Yoongi could not remember the last time he felt like he was getting a scolding from the dance leader but he was almost certain it never happened in a personal space. He gulped down the last bit of chicken he was chewing and held Hobi’s gaze, as if to say, “Okay, I am listening. Carry on.”

Hobi started, “Y/N has never said that you are not worth her time. In fact if I remember correctly, she has made time for you, to spend with you, every time you have met, even unannounced.” he paused and sniggered alongside Yijeong as they saw Yoongi wince slightly at his own antics. 

When Sammy told the others, Yoongi wanted to argue that he exaggerated his fluster but then the bastard pulled out receipts. When he returned from walking Woolfie on the first day Yoongi dropped in, he had clicked a picture of the dinner spread. But most importantly, in the background, there was Yoongi looking-no, scratch that- beaming, at Y/N. That single picture had Yoongi’s horde of generally chill friends invested in his crush situation.

[Fond smile]

“I understand your hesitancies but you need to stop kicking your own butt. You like her, hyung. Ask her out. Whatever she responds with, you’ll have a definite answer. No more mental gymnastics,” Hobi finished.

Straightforward. Logical. 

Not that these didn’t strike Yoongi before. But hearing it from a friend, head-on made him want to buckle up more. He nodded slightly.

“Hey and you have a three-day opportunity window coming up. I will even be your wingman if you need,” Yijeong offered in earnest.

A resounding “No” greeted his enthusiasm, to which he rolled his eyes and muttered, “Just wanted to help!” and carried on with his chicken wings foraging.

Three days is not a long time. But three days is longer than the few hours he had with her each time so far. As he saw his friends out and started putting together a bag for the trip, he tried to plan how to take things forward.

Surely all he had to do was talk. Tell you what was on his mind, about how much he likes you, how he intends to date you if you will have him. It should not be a life-threatening level anxiety-ridden matter.

And yet he felt those mammoth fluttering in his stomach. Unpleasant to the point of becoming nauseating. Deep down he knew he was scared of an outright rejection and he could not will himself together to face it.

Just then his phone dinged with a notification. It was placed on top of the dresser at the other end of the room. Shoving the last shirt in the bag and zipping it shut, he let out a sigh as he dragged his feet across the floor. 

Before he could reach out to grab the handset, Scar jumped up on the dresser.

“Are you not sleepy yet?” Yoongi asked softly and scratched the top of the cat’s head just like he knew the feline preferred. As the cat started purring, pleased with the petting and attention, Yoongi’s phone dinged a couple more times.

With his other hand, he reached around Scar and pulled his phone up near his face.

The latest couple of messages were from Namjoon.

“Hyung, think I left my AirPods at yours”

“Please get them tomorrow”

Yoongi tsk-ed internally. Of course.

As he dragged down the notification bar further to reveal more messages, his heart skipped a bit.

Y/N’s name shone out brighter to him than all else. The lockscreen showed that she had shared an image with him.

He could feel his heartbeat, loud and clear. As he clicked on the chat, his mind raced faster.

The Y/N smile came back. Only Scar saw it now. A little annoyed at the absence of scratches, he mewled lowly. 

Yoongi looked up and still smiling, turned his phone towards the cat.

“Think you will be friends with her?”

It was a picture of Ash sitting inside Y/N’s bag, with the caption, “Someone wants to come along.”

[Photo Y/N sent]

She would not text him if she was not thinking about him, right? That has to be a good thing, right? Before he could overthink too much, Yoongi wrote back, “I understand the appeal <3”

What the fuck does that mean? It means if I were Ash I would also want to go with you. Anywhere. Everywhere.

“I wish she could come too,” he added, thinking that would be more appropriate.

Quick dings again. Heart reacts to both messages.

His heart was now beating in his throat.

“Maybe next time I can look for a pet-proofed place and bring her along,” her reply read.

Heart react. Next time, “we” can book a pet-proofed place and go just by ourselves.

“I am sure she will love it,” he typed in.

“I will miss her,” Y/N replied, adding in another message, “Haven’t spent nights away from her yet.”

“Three days will pass before you know it”

It seemed like he was also telling this to himself. But as a warning.

“She will be too busy stealing Woolfie’s treats anyways,” he added.

He had grown very fond of that kitten. Mischievous, but adorable. Maybe the fondness stems from being involved in her rescue endeavour. 

Y/N does not know it was him yet. That is a rabbit hole he refuses to go down now.

A laugh react to the second message.

“That is true. And I think she is more fond of Sammy than me, anyways. So she should be fine.”

“I am sure that is not true. But yes, she will be alright!” he added an arm emoji and replied.

Two more dings.

“Hopefully”

“See you tomorrow. Goodnight! :)”

“See you! Goodnight :)”

Ding. Heart react.

Yoongi let out an audible breath.

Yeah. He has to grow a spine and speak. Tomorrow. At the earliest chance he can get.

[industrial-meat]

Every now and then, I remember there's people out there -- proudly claiming to be leftists, even -- who genuinely believe that queers are wholly a product of capitalism. And I have to stop what I'm doing and hold my head in my hands for a bit until the despair passes.

What's so revolutionary about a revolution that has no space for queers and cripples? That's just a change of wallpaper.

We're being beaten down by governments and entities (corporate, state, or religiofascist) that want us dead, or at least invisible and silent.

We're being ground to pulp under capitalism and turned into rainbow paint to cheerily plaster their logos with for a month.

We're passing what money we can spare between ourselves, whoever has some this month spreading it around, desperately trying to cover medical bills and rent and food and "hey, the car disintegrated and we have no other way to get to work" for their friends and social network

We're having jobs and income yanked from under us as soon as we're inconvenient or too visible or too weird or "not advertiser friendly"

We're pushing ourselves to the breaking point emotionally and physically and spiritually, just making it to the next week, and the next, and the next; bashing against the walls of a system that does not care for anything than doesn't fit in its neat boxes and forms.

And you think we're the enemy?

So what's so revolutionary about a revolution that has no space for queers and cripples? That's just a change of wallpaper.

[eli-rooks-ni]

WBW Part 6: Desperado

     "Yo, Ethan! I had no idea I'd see you here! What's the event?" Maven tilted her head, standing in front of the Archbishop, a sardonic smile plastered across her face. "I've come to eliminate you and your puny little rebels, Raphael, and we will burn your house down." Ethan gritted his teeth, glaring at the fixer. Maven laughed. "Aww, Ethan, you don't remember your old playmate? That Rook who always bashed your head on the wall with no shame?" Ethan growled, pinning the fixer on the wall. "You're gonna regret this, Rachel Clarkson." Maven easily countered the attack, thrusting her knife forward, as the Archbishop ducked in equal ease. "Let's reminisce the good old times, shouldn't we?" 

  

  Watson looked at the two people locked in a fight, finding no way to land a clear shot. Lyle sighed. "It's okay, I believe in Ethan. He'd manage." The rest of the Cleansing team strolled down the streets to the heart of the slums. The Knight's eyes brightened as he pulled out a flamethrower. "It'll be faster-" Lyle pressed the weapon down. "No, Luke. We'd die along them if we set this whole thing on fire. Also-" Two snaps sounded, making the Knight's eyes widen in alarm. A poisoned crossbow shaft centered the base of his throat. Another buried itself in the Rook's chest. "-Also, you're dead." 

  

  Cipher leapt down from the building, with an uncanny grace. Solstice slipped out from the corner, dusting off her coat. "It's surprisingly easy, isn't it?" Solstice mused, leading the trio along to meet up with Maven. Cipher sild their friend a withering glare. "It's just the beginning, Sol. We'd have to wait and see…" Maven was still tangled in the midst of a duel, taunting and exchanging blows in a practiced flow. Solstice pulled out a separate vial, doused a dart with it, and sent it flying to where Maven pinned her foe. The Archbishop collapsed onto the ground. "Sedatives? Solstice, why are you sparing him?" Lyle questioned, prodding at an unconscious Ethan. Solstice shrugged. "It saves my resources. Also, he's a hostage if things go wrong." Maven, already in the process of tying the guy up, gave her friend a thumbs-up. "Same thought." Cipher ran a hand through their hair, groaning under their breath. "The cavalry is coming, guys. Be prepared." 

  

  The first wave of guards immediately circled the area, closing in. Maven gathered her recruited rebels and revolutionists, forming a line between the two forces, while her three friends looked for a way to break the siege. "The Queen wouldn't back down from such an interesting prey. She'd love to tame her new loyalists herself. She'd come here, without a doubt. But where, precisely?" Lyle mused, looking at the deserted streets. Cipher pointed at the warehouse, right beside the outer circle of the battlefield. "There. It's a trap, and we're going in anyway." Solstice stared. "Seriously?" Cipher waved at Maven, who finally joined the trio, a bit breathless. "Let's do this fast, alright?" 

  

  The warehouse door slammed shut, sealing their fate. "Ah, look at who we've got here." The honeyed voice crooned, sending Maven reeling from the effect. "An outcast Rook, a Bishop, a Servant… and a pitiful Pawn, of all things. Such a disgrace." Cipher scanned the area. Five burly guards circled them, armed with rifles and swords. This is going to be tough. Glancing at the troubled Maven, they gripped their blade and charged. "And we're going to free the world from your tyrannical System, Your Majesty." Putting the element of surprise to their advantage, the hacker closed in on the Queen, pressing their blade against her throat. The Queen grabbed at their wrists, holding her attacker back, and Spoke. "Simon North. You'd make a fine Queen someday, little Pawn." Cipher's head throbbed with alien thoughts, swarming over their mind, making their vision blur… A falling sensation and a sharp pain erupted from their flank. They gasped, breathing in raggedly, feeling warm blood pouring from the wound. They've been shot. But… it's in their plans. 

  

  "SIMON!" Solstice shouted, swinging hard to fend off another charging guard. This can't be happening, their only family, they can't be dead! Aflame with rage and pure hatred, they decapitated the nearest guard and pounced on the other without a care in the world. Maven joined in, her actions slowed but still efficient, carving a path to their fallen friend. Lyle broke through the attacking circle, and commanded in a forceful tone, not unlike the Queen's own Speech. "Queen Juan de' Pazzi, are you aware of what you've done wrong?" The Queen's movements stilled in shock at the raw force of Lyle's Speech. "I'm Lyle, your judge, and your End." 

  

  Cipher grabbed at the phone in their pocket, with a bloodstained hand and a considerable amount of effort. The plan must work. They flicked on the console and ran the code. The surveillance camera in the corner buzzed to life. Big screens along the roads flickered on, broadcasting the standoff between Bishop and Queen. The Speech of Lyle spread from speakers across the country. It was glorious… Cipher smiled faintly, feeling life draining away, along with the blood pooling around them. Their planned sacrifice… it's worth it. 

  

  As the Speech ended, a poisoned blade cut through the tyrant's throat. Solstice breathed down the Queen's neck: "This is for all the lives you took… and for Cipher." Maven was kneeling beside the limp form of her friend, cheeks wet with tears. "Lyle, can you call the medical right now? Make it quick… we don't have much time." The screens outside cut down after that, followed by an eerie silence. The country… was freed. At last. 

[scholarhect]

disco elysium is like “we’re all fucking doomed but every step we take on the march towards our fate is meaningful & holds beauty” and i’m like “wait, did you say we’re all fucking doomed?” and that’s why i should be banned from talking about this game

[allbark-no-bite]

That Damn Hound Dog || Elvis Presley x reader

summary: It’s been a long time since Elvis Presley walked out of your life, but he’s grown up since then

warnings: angst, mentions of death

word count: 2.6k

author’s note: Thank you all for all the love I got on the last post!!!! I loved writing this one. It’s incredibly raw and painful and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do.

"Well what the fuck do you want from me?" Elvis shouts from the other end of the kitchen counter, throwing one hand up in exasperation. I angrily shove the last of the dishes into the sink and turn to face him completely.

"I want the fucking truth, Elvis! That's what I want!"

His blue eyes narrow, as if zeroing in on my accusation, and he shakes his head harshly at me. "Don't Elvis me. Do not turn this on me!"

He's just come back from the studio, where he's been all day, and his oil black hair is ruffled more than usual.

I gawk at him. "What do you mean?! We need to talk about these kinds of things! At least a heads up would have been nice, don't you think?!"

He slams his palms down onto the counter. It causes the glasses in the cadinet to shake and sends Sherlock, who would usually go unbothered by Elvis' outburst, into a series of yowling barks. He turns to the dog, who is now standing alert on the sofa, "Shut up before you go outside—"

"Elvis—"

“Shut up! I'm sick of it! Just shut up!" He yells. "This is why I didn't tell you! Because everyone thinks that they know what's good for me!"

I scoff, gesturing towards the plethora of awards and photos mounted to our wall. "So was last time not enough?! Was the adrenaline rush to the ER not quite what you were looking for?"

I see him wince, recoiling at my words. Last time was a nightmare. "Because maybe being dead will finally resonate with that thick skull of yours!"

Elvis swallows thickly, setting his jaw as he blinks away a wounded look from his eyes. His fingers grasp the keys in his pocket and he nods, his set jaw holding back words that suffocate and die in his throat. His shoes shuffle against the fine carpets of Graceland as he retreats back towards the front door. "Fine. I'll get my things tomorrow."

"Elvis—"

He twists the knob, stopping halfway through the threshold of the door. "And don't bother to come looking for me."

"Elvis Presley don't you walk out of that door—!"

But he cuts me off, slamming the door behind him with the force of a thousand men. Around me, the walls of Graceland shake. Vernon, who must have been listening to our entire conversation, finally steps out into the hallway, his eyes sympathetic.

"Honey, he don't mean that—"

"Yes... he does," I say, my voice finally breaking. He's gone. That's it, he's really gone.

—————

"-and breaking his own attendance record for the third time!"

The crowd erupts into applause and the man mentioned takes a grateful bow, suppressing an embarrassed yet bashful smile. He mouths something like a 'thank you'. The girl on his arm has a pout on her bubblegum pink lips.

"Now Elvis," the host begins. "I'm sure we can all agree that it's been much too long since we've seen you on stage. Germany is certainly a far cry from Memphis, isn't it son?"

A photo flashes onto the screen, providing the crowd a glimpse of the same picture that had been plastered all over the front of every single newspaper and television screen two years ago.

The same one that's still sat in a frame on my bedside table, in addition to a plethora of his things that I couldn't bear to get rid of.

The crowd screams with enthusiasm, and the host laughs.

Straight faced and bored looking, Elvis is sat on a stool in front of a plain, plaster white wall, his government name and identification, 'Presley, Elvis A' held on on a sign in front of his chest. His dark green military uniform does little to conceal the broad shoulders that his months spent at basic training had given him. The pudgy roundness of his cheeks from his teenage years gone, replaced by gaunt cheek bones and a prominent jawline.

The epitome of an American soldier.

He'd never been sicker.

I remember him calling me, sobbing on the pay phone every night for the first two weeks that he was stationed in Germany, with no regard for the pretty penny he was likely paying for the international call. His mama had just passed, and he was miserably homesick. Inconsolable, I would sit on my bed and attempt to soothe him for hours.

"But it's been a while since you've preformed in front of a live audience. Is there any pressure with coming back?"

"You know, I've just been takin' it slow. Now that I'm back, I want to spend some time at Graceland with my daddy and the rest of the family—"

The girl on Elvis' arms cuts him off. "Of course being deployed set him back. But he still has a few weeks to practice and be ready to preform at his best," she answers for him, patting his arm.

I'd heard about Pricilla, the girl that Elvis had supposedly met in Germany. Her daddy was an Air Force officer and rumors said they met at a military ball where he was stationed. Whether Elvis had met her before or after we went our separate ways, I would rather not know the details of. But she was pretty, I'd give her that.

The crowd applauds, cheering enthusiastically. His soft blue eyes study her for approval before nodding hesitantly in agreement.

I can't help but think that he looks completely and utterly lost.

I have to turn the channel because I know that now he'll go home and lock himself in his studio until well into the night, tear himself apart a little more just to be sure that he's giving his fans no less than one hundred percent.

With the television now off and the radio too likely to be playing one of his songs, I head up to bed to avoid the silence of my home. You would think that after over a year of living in the silence, that I would be used to it by now, but it still manages to creep into my bones every now and again. I guess after years of acclamation to the boisterous happenings that went on in Graceland daily, the silence will always be too quiet.

Feeling unwelcome and having no reason to stay at Graceland, despite Elvis not explicitly telling me to leave, I had moved out not long after our fight. Vernon had begged me to stay, saying he couldn't bear to live in that big house all alone, and that he was sure Elvis would come to his senses, but I just couldn't. I had known I had lost him for good that day.

I roll over in bed after a hour of restless tossing and turning, flinging my hand out in exasperation. My knuckles hit the side of my nightstand, and it threatens to topple over. Scrambling from underneath the sheets, I lunge forward to catch a picture frame as it slides off the top.

I realize with a pang that it's the same photo that they had shown on the television earlier. Flipping it over to ensure it hadn't been damaged, I realize that it's crooked, half sliding out of the glass. Determined to fix it, I unlatch the clasp on the back and out falls another photo, hidden behind the previous one.

With the frame flipped facedown on my bedside table for months now, simply too painful to look at, I had completely forgotten about the second photo altogether.

I pick it up, gingerly holding the photo as if it were too delicate to even touch.

Elvis is sat on the ground, me on his lap, both of our heads tilted up to look over at at his mama, who had quickly snapped the photo. His perfect smile is broad and infectious, and I find myself fighting off one of my own.

He was always smiling. It was just his personality. His charisma was unlike anyone I had ever met.

He's leaned back, relaxing on one arm while the other hand holds on to my waist. I chuckle to myself. Whether in private or in public, he always had to be touching me.

In my arms is a droopy looking bloodhound puppy, it's paws dangling from my grasp; my Christmas gift from Elvis that year. He said that it was the song that I always sang the loudest and therefore thought I needed the pup to match. He hated that dog.

Elvis loved animals, but after the humiliation that he had faced on live television, he couldn't stand to be around the dog, whom I had named Sherlock. But for me, he put up with him. When I left Graceland, I had left most things behind, Sherlock included. A part of me wondered that if, like me and the possessions of his that I did have, he couldn't bear to get rid of the dog either.

Bitterly, I laugh aloud to myself, wiping away the tears that had begun to travel down my face as I tuck the photos away again. This time, I replace the fame standing up on my bedside table. Instead of going back to sleep, I stare at the phone sat next to the photo.

I close my eyes. No.

Phone held to my ear, half of me prays that he won't pick up, or better yet, someone else will answer the call. It rings and rings and rings and finally my defeated heart settles in my chest with acceptance.

"—Hello?"

It's the first time I've heard his voice—really heard his voice—in years. I should hang up.

"Hi."

I can hear some rustling over the line and mumbling as he gets out of bed. "Nothin', baby. Just go back to sleep." I hear his heavy footsteps echo down the hall. "[Y/N]? Who is this?"

Immediately I regret waking him up. "Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called—"

"Christ," I hear him mumble, and he must pull the phone away from his ear because his voice gets muffled for a moment. "Jesus—h-how are you?"

I swallow, words dying in my mouth. In the moment, there's not a single thing I can think to say to him, although the real problem is that I have too much that I want to say. So I say the first thing that I can think of.

"Do you remember that Christmas, when you bought me a puppy and you said—"

He laughs, his deep hum of amusement interrupting me. "Yeah, I remember."

"I miss that. I miss us."

Except for his soft breathing, there is silence on his side of the line for a while.

"I wish I hadn't ended things like I did. You didn't deserve that." He sounds incredibly torn.

The guilt creeps in and again I feel bad for calling. It was selfish of me to bring all this to the surface after so many years. Elvis had moved on with his life, I needed to too. "I shouldn't be doing this to you, Elvis. I—"

"Can we meet up? Tomorrow? I need to see you."

The thought that he still had regrets over separating the way we did had never occurred to me. But even now, things were different. It would be nearly impossible for things to go back to the way they were before or even come close. 

"Elvis, you have Pricilla—"

He's quick to interrupt me. "She's going back to Germany. It was never going to work; she's not you," he stresses. "Please, just meet me tomorrow, okay, darlin'?"

When I don't answer, he insists again. "Okay, darlin'?" Although it's the pet name that breaks me, the familiar southern drawl to his voice doesn't help.

"Okay," I whisper.

————

The big rod iron gates welcome me back to the heaven known as Graceland. The pristine white columns look exactly the same as they did years before, only I never thought I would see them again. Expensive cars line the driveway, undoubtedly belonging to the many members of the infamous Memphis Mafia.

Timidly, I step out of my car, admittedly taken back by sudden feelings of nostalgia. It was in this same grassy green yard that I learned to drive the pink Cadillac that was now parked in the drive. As I walk up the steps of the porch, I recall spending many afternoons in a rocking chair besides Gladys as we listened to Elvis strum along on his guitar.

“Just how you remember it?”

I whirl around, having missed the creaking of shoes on the front steps. There, in every bit the way I remember him, is Elvis Presley. He takes another step towards me just as I shuffle to the side and for a glimmer of a second, we circle each other like wounded dogs.

I plant my feet into the ground. “I can’t be here, Elvis,” I say even as I take in the familiarity of his hooded blue eyes, the fullness of his lips, the upturn of his button nose. He’s different now, older, more grown up, more of a man. But he’s still the boy I fell in love with.

And that’s why I can’t be here. It hurts too much.

“Graceland will always be your home."

“Elvis—“ I begin, sounding as if I’m trying to break the news to a small child, trying to backpedal out of the situation we’ve put ourselves in without making it worse.

He grabs my hand, pulling it to his chest before I can continue. “Just listen to me, okay, mama?”

I sigh. Elvis was nothing if not persistent.

Taking my lack of argument as a sign to continue, he starts off down the porch, leading me around the side of the house. At first I think that he’s taking me around the backside of the house, but he bypasses the door, instead heading for the gardens.

“Elvis, what in the world—“

He brakes suddenly at the edge of the garden, and I bump into him before my feet can stop themselves. His hands grab my waist to steady me. After I collect myself, I look down past his feet to see what he deemed so utterly important.

A mound of recently disturbed dirt lies a few feet in front of us. It’s apparent that a few weeks have passed since it was first dug because clumps of grass have begun to sprout from the soil. To the left of it lies the headstones of his mama and grandmama.

Confused and a little concerned, I look up at him, eyebrows furrowed. “What—?”

Elvis chuckles a little, shaking his head as he looks down at the ground. “Y’know, I couldn’t bear to get rid that damn dog even after you left…” There’s a heavy pause as he gathers himself. His voice cracks. “And now he’s dead; died in his sleep on the sofa two weeks ago.”

I clench my jaw, steadying myself as I feel my eyes begin to water and my throat tightens. Oh God.

“I, umm,” he begins, turning towards me. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I never got over you. [Y/N], I want us to try again.”

Us.

Teary eyed and emotional over both my beloved dog and the man I loved, my head nods on its own accord. I reach out for him as a cry breaks out of me, and Elvis takes me into his arms without hesitation.

It’s been so long since he’s held me, and that in itself evokes another cry from me.

Elvis presses a kiss to my temple, humming softly against my skin. “Welcome home, darlin’. Welcome home.”

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 11: Playing the Game

AN: I hope y'all enjoy this non-stop flirt-a-thon, chapter count got increased again, so we'll get back to the plot in the next chapter!

At first, Marinette didn’t know how to act. This was the last route she expected Damian to take. The shock of Damian’s lips against hers turned her body rigid; hands splayed out to the sides, unsure of where to touch. After a second of floundering, she gained enough bearing to place her hands firmly on Damian’s arms. Her once still lips hesitantly moving against his. The closed-mouth kiss stayed chaste, but Marinette found herself fluttering her eyes closed, sinking into the warmth.

Damian stood taller than her, bending into the kiss while she craned her neck. Marinette pushed herself upward, arching onto the tips of her toes, and Damian’s hands wrapped tighter around her waist, deepening the kiss. She readjusted her mouth for a second grabbing a quick gasp of air before diving in again with more fervor. Damian responded in kind, pushing her back fully against the wall, one hand migrating from her waist to cup her cheek.

Damn. Damian was a good kisser.

“What the- Hey, customers are not allowed to be in here!”

Oh, right. The employee. That’s why they were kissing.

Why would kissing be helpful in this situation?

Not that Marinette was complaining, but-

Damian pulled away from her, and Marinette held back a pitiful whine when he turned away and faced the employee.

‘Bad thoughts, Marinette,’ she chided herself. ‘Focus on the mission, not Damian, or his lips, or his eyes, or-’

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that,” said Damian with a bashful smile.

Wait…

Blink.

What?

Marinette dragged herself out of the kiss-induced bliss, focusing on her co-conspirator, and had she been less in control of herself her jaw would have dropped.

Damian’s whole demeanor had markedly changed. His normal sharp posture sunk into a causal slouch; the emotions on his face, generally a mix of sharp observation or practiced disdain, now a mix of charming elegance and, yes, bashfulness. He flashed a wide grin at the oncoming employee, a person in their early twenties, who froze when they saw them.

Or rather, Damian.

Rapidly blinking bright blue eyes gazed at them. “Oh, oh you- you’re-”

“Yeah, yeah, we all know who I am,” said Damian, rubbing the back of his neck. Even the way he spoke changed; careful pronunciation and formality thrown out the window for a lax New Jersian drawl. “What’s your name?” He asked with such a genuine smile, had Marinette not been versed in people lying through their teeth, she would have bought it.

Not for the first time, Marinette wondered how famous Damian’s family was – obviously rich enough, and high profile enough - to be recognized on the spot.

The person paused for a moment, fiddling with a strand of curly blond hair. “I’m- I’m ah… Fey, nice to meet you Mr.-”

Damian cut them off with a laugh. “Oh please, any name with a mister makes me think of my father or my older brother. Call me Dami.” He offered a hand to the flustered Fey. They limply shook it.

“Oh… ah- alright Dami.”

Damian encircled a hand around Marinette’s waist dragging her out of the weirdness induced fugue state she’d fallen into. “And this… well,” he lowered his eyes, catching her attention and winked. “This is my girlfriend Marinette.”

Fuck, this is what he meant by play along.

Fey dropped open their mouth before closing it quickly.

“Oh, I hadn’t read-”

Damian cut the flustered employee off again.

“We’ve kept it quiet.” He waved his hand dismissively. “The papers would devour a story like this,” he said, with a sense of vapid annoyance, although a trace of his normal calculated disdain accented his words.

Note to self; Damian didn’t like the media. Good, Marinette didn’t much like the invasive vultures either.

Fey nodded along, twirling a lock of hair on their finger. “Oh yeah, that totally makes sense.” They paused shaking their head to clear away an emotion… awe? Fear? Marinette couldn’t tell. “But uh, why are you here? Like in the stairwell, not in the store. Because of course celebrities would still shop, right? I mean-” Poor Fey was a stuttering mess. Marinette almost felt bad for them.

She felt like an absolute stuttering mess too, but she would be damned if Damian would carry this lie all by himself.

She was fucking Ladybug; savior of Paris, Guardian of the Miraculous.

She could act like a lovestruck fool.

“It iz so sweet,” she said, emphasizing her accent to add a little more pageantry to this entire scheme. “I just arrived back from Paris, and wanted to decorate my new apartment with ze ah-” she waved her hands around, “Oh, how you Americans put it? Fairy lights?”

Fey nodded quickly. “Yeah, we have a couple of good selections, but-” Marinette continued before they could logic their way out of the made-up cover story.

“I planned to go by myself, but Dami-” at this she moved forward to wrap her arms around his, leaning into his side. The warmth of his body bleeding through his clothes. “He insisted on ‘companying me even though he dozen’t like ze crowds.” She leaned forward with a conspiratorial air. “He gets grumpy,” she divulged with a girlish giggle. Why Damian did a 180 on his personality was a complete mystery, but if he dropped the act, this would make Fey less suspicious.

Fey nodded right along like Marinette’s comment made total sense. “Yeah, I don’t read too many magazines, but damn they must pin you all wrong,” they said to Damian. From Marinette’s position at his side, she felt his body tense the slightest amount. “Gotham’s Ice Prince, yeah right.”

Marinette inwardly quirked an eyebrow. ‘Ice Prince, huh?’ The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on where she’d heard it before.

Damian nervously chuckled again, sounding more authentic this time. “Oh no, I’m a grump when it comes to the media, I fully admit. My, ah,” he looked at her again, an apology flashing in his green eyes. “Angel here puts me in a better mood.”

A rushing noise filled Marinette’s ears, and her heart quickened. She vaguely registered a squeal of delight coming from Fey, but it sounded far away compared to her blood pounding at a thunderous level. Heat flushed in her cheeks, and the confident smile she plastered on her face almost dropped at the pet name.

Angel.

He called her angel.

What level of utter insanity had she dropped into?

“A few disguises later,” Damian continued, adjusting the glasses on his face, and oblivious of the turmoil he’d created in Marinette’s mind. “I thought we’d be able to stay under the radar, I just wanted a day out with my girlfriend,” he said with a put-upon sigh. The emotional, charming actions stood in complete opposite to Damian’s normal demeanor.

Marinette found herself desperately torn between breaking down laughing hysterically or clapping at Damian’s masterful performance.

“You got noticed?” asked Fey.

“We got noticed.” Damian sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. Marinette regretted not touching it while she and Damian kissed; was it as fluffy as it looked? “And Marinette, the sweet angel she is, isn’t used to the whole utter insanity of… you know, dating a celebrity.” He glanced at her, teasing her with a fonder smirk than his usual. Marinette wanted to roll her eyes. Damian had no clue she knew very well the consequences of dating a celebrity.

Never mind she’d only dated Adrian a month before they broke up because his dad turned out to be a psychopathic supervillain intent on plunging the whole of France into an apocalyptic hellscape in an attempt to upset the universes’ balance, and was fully okay with killing the both of them to make it happen.

Being friends after that little debacle was the better option. For both their sanities.

‘Focus Marinette.’ She dragged her attention back to the conversation.

“We kinda ducked in here when nobody was paying attention. I want to keep this away from the media as long as possible, for my angel’s privacy.” Marinette wanted to scoff at how Damian leaned into that nickname. He certainly was laying it on thick. Marinette wouldn’t have bought the act, but that was due to her years of lying and deceiving in the name of super-heroics.

Fey, with their eager demeanor and bright blue eyes, didn’t stand a chance.

“Oh, that’s awful people wouldn’t leave you alone. I bet most celebrities would be familiar with the attention, but for you to look out for Marinette too?” They whistled. “Damn girl, he’s a keeper for sure.”

The blush gracing Marinette’s cheeks was 100% real. “Oh, well, ah, zank you. I know.”

“Well, no one will hear a word from me,” Fey promised. They fiddled with their hands and sent a shy smile at Damian. Marinette’s stomach clenched at the sight, and without her permission, her traitorous hands tightened their grip on Damian’s arm. “Without your family’s scholarship, my sister never would have graduated med school. She would kill me if I even thought of ratting you out to the papers.”

“Oh…” said Damian, his outward appearance of shock mirroring Marinette’s own internal emotions.

‘His family is rich enough to fund medical scholarships?’

“Well, that’s not on me directly, you know,” he commented. “All my father’s doing. I hope- ah… I hope she’s doing well?” Although his face portrayed a bashful and relaxed air, his body language screamed uncomfortableness. Marinette released one hand from his arm and brought it to rest on the small of his back, circling her thumb around. He relaxed, slightly, and Marinette smiled.

“Yeah, actually she is,” said Fey beaming. “She’s working at the new pediatric clinic that opened in Crime Alley.”

“Good for her,” said Damian honestly. “We need more people willing to work to make the city a better place. Money can only do so much.”

“Money definitely helps though,” Fey replied, wryly. Marinette agreed. Long-buried memories of her early years arose. Living above her parents’ shop, where every month they spread their bills across the kitchen table and talked in hushed tones while Marinette sat on the steps to her attic room and worried, even if at five and six she didn’t know what she was worried about.

Those days were long gone. Her parents and their creations internationally famous, with three separate locations across the greater Paris metro alone. But that worry never really went away.

Fey shifted on their feet reading their watch. “Well, you guys stay here if you want until whatever crowd out there loses interest.” They gestured to the door Marinette and Damian entered through. “Or you can come with me if you want?” Pointing to the other locked door. “I’m heading out to the atrium to deal with a problem, but you can continue on with your shopping.”

“Zank you so much,” Marinette replied. “We will go with you if you do not mind?”

“Of course not,” said Fey, walking to the door and pulling out a security key. They opened the door, but Damian held it allowing Marinette and Fey to walk through before he followed. Placing a hand once more around Marinette’s waist.

“What problem in the atrium, if you don’t mind me asking?” he prodded, sharing a look with Marinette.

It could be nothing, but it could also have something to do with his brothers.

Considering their luck today, Marinette would be shocked if it wasn’t the latter option.

“Oh, well it started with the children’s center shutting down. Apparently, the kids got it in their minds to start a dodge ball fight with the workers. Which, you know, totally fair,” confided Fey, as they walked through the back corridors. “Sounded like it was a blast to watch. I was such a shit when I was a kid, I would have joined them in a heartbeat. It wrapped up fairly quickly, but they can’t convince the main instigator to descend from the jungle gym. I think they’re still hunting down her parents.”

Marinette pursed her lips trying to hold back a smile. ‘Oh, Abby,’ she thought, ‘you absolute gem.’

“I only heard about it from Lisa when I got back because I was dealing with a security issue in the back lot.” Fey glanced at them nervously. “Not that there’s anything wrong, we’re perfectly safe.”

Marinette and Damian shared a look.

Jason.

“Of course,” said Marinette.

Followed by a quick, “Absolutely,” from Damian.

Fey relaxed. “So this is, apparently, a whole bunch of workers on strike? They walked out of the back warehouse and congregated in the atrium, spouting on about living wages and corrupt big business, and the effects of verbal abuse in the workplace.” Fey said with a wave of their arms. “And it’s not like I don’t agree, because I do. Jerry, the warehouse general manager, is an asshole.” Marinette and Damian exchange worried glances at the rotund angry man’s name, who they last saw dragging a singed Tim into an office.

“…but it makes my job hard,” whined Fey, oblivious to their compatriot’s inner panic. “And the Starbucks baristas joined them, so their kiosk closed too.” Fey chuckled, “I would avoid the whole area if I were you, especially if you don’t want anyone finding out you’re together.”

“I wonder how zat ended up happening?” Marinette asked hopefully her high-pitched voice conveyed confusion instead of slowly settling in panic.

“They called in saying some guy lead the charge, he’s worked the crowd into a fervor. I’m there to be the HR rep while security tries to remove him. You know, normally my job involves sitting at a desk all day listening to bitchy customers on the phone. I’ve dealt with more in-store problems today since last Black Friday.” Fey chuckled. “What a day, ya’ know?”

Marinette glanced at Damian, his casual mask still firmly in place, although his left eye twitched, and the hand he wrapped around her waist, tightened at Fey’s words.

Fey finally reached another door, pulling out their pass and lead them out into the store’s main section.

“Well, it was nice to meet you Marinette, Dami,” Fey chirped. “Nobody will hear from me about any of this.” They mimed zipping their lips.

Marinette smiled, hoping the strain wasn’t too noticeable. “It waz nice to meet you too Fey.”

“Good luck with whatever is happening in the atrium,” said Damian. They stood at the door and watched them move out of sight. When Fey finally disappeared around a corner, Damian turned to Marinette his casual persona rippling away as if it never existed at all. His hand slipped off her waist.

She did not, absolutely not, want to grab it and put it back thank you very much.

“How much do you wish to wager on Drake’s involvement in whatever is occurring in the atrium?” he asked. Marinette smiled, reassured at the return of his clipped and formal tone. The informal speech felt wrong coming from Damian’s mouth.

“Oh, I don’t know Dami?” she teased. Then again, she couldn’t let this opportunity pass by her. “I don’t think I have enough money for that bet with you.”

Damian closed his eyes with a grimace and sigh. “Do not call me that.” He opened his eyes, an expression just short of pleading radiated from them “Please.”

“I would rather gag, and it sounds so would you.” Marinette covered her grin with her hand, unable to stop a slight giggle at the man’s long-suffering tone. “You pulled off vapid lovesick celebrity well, but why the need to act at all?”

“I have plenty of reference to draw from,” he grumbled, piquing Marinette’s interest; every half aside comment enticing her to dig further at Damian’s life. “I needed whoever descended those steps on our side and my normal... demeanor tends to put people off.” He folded his hands behind his back, a perfect picture of casualness, but the tightness around his eyes and the twitch of his mouth was all Marinette needed to note his self-consciousness.

“Well, I for one find your usual self charming,” Marinette admitted, pleased when Damian relaxed at her words. “You freaked me out acting that weird.”

“It is not an option I use often,” Damian admitted. “My brothers tend to make big productions of themselves. I prefer a far subtler approach, but this required more theatrics to make it believable.” He glanced at her. “I hope…” he paused. She watched his hand flutter and turn into a fist at his side. “I hope I did not overstep your bounds, that is, I mean violate your...” Damian refused to look at her, his gaze firmly planted on a far wall.

Marinette could let the poor man continue but ended up taking pity on him before he dug an even deeper hole. She placed a hand on his arm. “You were fine. If I didn’t want you… kissing me,” she said the words out loud for the first time, reigning in a pleasurable shudder at the memory. “I would have pushed you off, and if I felt violated, which I didn’t, you would have found yourself on the ground in plenty of pain.”

Damian dragged his gaze back to hers, a small smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. “Undoubtedly, yes, you easily could have done so.”

Marinette smirked again, not willing to let the entire debacle slip away quite yet though. “Although I have to ask, where in the world did angel come from? And what on earth made you think it would be a good nickname for our fake relationship?”

Damian lifted his nose haughtily. “It is a perfectly acceptable name of affection for a significant other. What, did you wish for ‘sweetheart’ or ‘doll’?” he asked, drawing out those names with the earlier casual New Jersian accent. Marinette withheld a shiver at his low tone of voice curling those words around his tongue. She may prefer his normal speech, but damn he still sounded unbearably attractive when he dropped that low.

‘Focus, Marinette. FOCUS!’ she inwardly screamed at herself.

“Goodness no,” said Marinette, forcing a pretend shudder. “Something with more class perhaps? Darling, or beloved?”

Damian pursed his lips. “Not beloved. That’s what my mother refers to my father with.” Marinette winced, yeah, that could be awkward. Not that this whole conversation wasn’t a disaster plucked out of a fever dream. Why, why was she debating Damian on the finer points of affectionate nickname giving?

But her mouth continued talking. “Alright, I suppose angel isn’t bad in comparison. Still, it’s a bit cliché. What does that make you? A demon?”

Damian tilted his head with a shrug. “Tt. My brothers do call me that on occasion, yes.” Oh right, Jason called him demon-spawn a few times during their confrontation. With the way Damian rolled his eyes in annoyance, Marinette figured a story lurked behind that particular nickname.

“Regardless, we have strayed dangerously off-topic here. We should head towards the pandemonium in the atrium, yes?” Damian pushed off the wall he’d leaned against, and Marinette followed.

“I thought it was Panic at the Disco?” Marinette teased with a grin.

Damian pointed a finger at her, trying for a stern expression, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “You think yourself terribly clever, don’t you?”

“I think I’m adorable,” she shot back. “But I also think you’re right. It sounds like Tim managed to involve himself. If he’s making a scene, I bet he’ll draw the rest of your brothers there too.”

“You think Grayson will escape the clutches of that ravenous she-wolf?”

Marinette scoffed. “Damian, you’ll insult wolves with that comparison. I thought she resembled more of a hyena myself.” The woman certainly shrieked enough for it. “From what I saw, your brother probably ducked out at the first opportunity available to him.”

“True. Which leaves Todd, and nothing attracts his attention more than a spectacle. Especially when Drake stands chance to make a fool of himself.” Turning a corner they found themselves several yards away from the open-aired atrium. A crowd of people lingered around the railing looking into the courtyard below. Clapping and cheers fill the air.

“Shall we?” asked Marinette, excitement brewing in her chest.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” grumbled Damian. “But I suppose we must.”

Tag List (or you can subscribe and read it here on ao3)

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[inkedtae]

starfruit ⇾ jhs. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ camboy!hoseok x curvy!reader

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾  s2l, livecam au, smut, pwp, filth, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾  one video is all it takes to realize you’re all he wants.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 20.2k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ camboy!hoseok, dom!hoseok, big dicc!hoseok, ass enthusiast!hoseok, nose piercing!hoseok, curvy!reader, sub!reader, shy!reader, nipple piercing!reader, vague mention of alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), rough sex, tongue kink, lowkey corruption kink, dirty talk, creampie, double penetration, reverse cowgirl position, sixty-nine position, oral (m. and f. receiving), degradation, overstimulation, mutual masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, use of star shaped vibrator, multiple orgasms, body worshipping, cum-eating, face licking, choking, dry-humping, a lil hair-pulling, spanking, swearing, begging, biting, clit biting, motorboating, fingering, rimming, ass job, ass play, spit play, breast play, a tad bit of jealousy/possessiveness for the win, star sparkling filth

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ hobi thirst hours:open

✩ banner by ⇾ @dee-ehn​ (thank you again dear~)

✩ beta’d by ⇾ @kitsutaes​ (darling luff~) and @moonmintrails​ (my luffly soulmate~)

✩ le playlist

Blinds shut, doors locked. The routine is second nature at this point. Hoseok dims his lights before checking his hair in the mirror. He sighs at his reflection, hoping this lazy look of his is good enough for tonight’s live. Already shirtless, Hoseok sports baggy, grey sweatpants that hang dangerously low on his hips, while his semi-hard cock is just barely visible. 

A good enough tease, he thinks after one last glance. Or at least let’s hope it is. 

He can’t bring himself to care too much about what is or isn’t “properly shown.” Maybe a year ago, or even six months ago, he would’ve made sure he was completely hard, his bulge unmistakingly visible through his sweatpants, and not have dimmed the lights. Now, however, it seems as though all he wants to do is the bare minimum. He’ll show as much as he needs to, get off as well as he has to, put on a good enough show to keep his viewers satisfied… for now. 

Still, even the bare minimum requires a certain degree of effort. Making his way to his desk, Hoseok scrolls through his phone and turns on his playlist for tonight. The first suggestive song tickles out of the speakers and softly fills the room. Getting off on camera is only half the job of being a camstreamer. Setting the tone, giving the audience an experience to crave, is the other half. 

As The Weeknd’s melody continues to hop between the walls of his bedroom, Hoseok makes sure his camera is properly set. Usually, he’d be making himself comfortable on his bed, preparing a variety of toys by his side to play with. Tonight is different. Tonight, Hoseok lacks the motivation to play around for an audience. In fact, if he’s being honest with himself, he’s been lacking that motivation for a while. Tonight, he wants nothing more than to sit at his desk and use his hand to get himself off. Back to the basics, the bare minimum.

He looks forward to reading comments while he searches for the courage to share his news. He’s been thinking about this for a while, thinking about retiring from this kind of work. After three years of being on this site, he has cultivated a good following of viewers, but now the entire ordeal just seems… tiring. He loves sharing parts of himself to the camera, some more than others, but it feels like a chapter of his life that he has somewhat outgrown. Now, the entire job feels more like a chore. Not much pleasure, besides the one he stimulates himself, can be found before a camera anymore. 

There’s something about the distance between him and others that he somewhat loathes now. Before, Hoseok found the disconnect, the stringless affair of live after live to be a comfort. He believed he could come and go as he pleased. He’d have fun with others at a safe enough proximity to fool around without the fear of catching serious feelings. It was a solid plan, until it wasn’t. All Hoseok craves now is that spark between him and another. And the more time he spends live streaming, the more he realizes how lonely it is. 

His camera starts to flash, signaling it’s going to start recording in about fifteen seconds. Hoseok lets the red gleam pull him out of his thoughts as he stands up. He shoves his hands in his pockets and tenses his stomach a bit. He doesn’t have ripped abs, but he’s fit enough to give off that impression. The light stops flashing, shining a bright red to let him know the live has started. Cutting just under his nose, the camera captures his entire torso and just a bit under his hips. Views immediately pour in as do comments and some cash. 

Hoseok chuckles a bit, watching as viewers beg him to drop his pants. The attention is just enough to get him fully hard. That’s one crutch Hoseok seems to have trouble letting go of; the attention. 

Licking his lips, he starts to palm himself through his pants. He lets out a shaky sigh then pulls his chair forward and takes a seat once again. He leaves some room between him and the desk though as he slouches a bit and makes sure that they can see his hard-on through his loose sweatpants. With the camera rolling, Hoseok has no other choice but to play along, one last time at least. 

“Hey,” he forces a smile. “Everyone ready for a relaxed night?”

[agustwantsthatd] : no toys tonight?

He shakes his head. “No toys,” he replies, continuing to rub himself over his pants. “Nothing fancy tonight. I hope that’s alright.”

Hoseok laughs to himself a bit at the mixed reactions. His aim to have a relaxed evening costs him a couple thousand viewers. In the past, something like that would’ve scared him enough to make him immediately drop his pants and move the show to his bed. But, now, he really can’t bring himself to feel even the slightest bit worried.

Just a few less people to break the news to. 

Comments begging him to just take his sweats off start to stack. Hoseok runs his tongue across his teeth, puffing his bottom lip out while glaring at the comment section. He doesn’t appreciate being told what to do very often. Most of the time, he just does what he wants while talking to some to his audience like he’s fucking them instead of whatever toy he usually goes for. His patience for their attitude is wearing thin. They almost don’t treat him like a real person sometimes, talking to him like an object. It may have been what he wanted before, the distance, the ability to keep himself unattainable, but now it’s becoming something of a pet peeve.

[starfruit340] : it’s only been a day, but i’ve missed you. Hope you’ve been well.

Hoseok only just catches the kind comment before it’s casted off by another pile of demands, smiling at his screen. That Starfruit is always too nice for her own good. All her comments are gentle requests, sometimes even sweet nothings. Once he even caught her asking him how his day was and if he’s eating well. He’s not sure what a sweet soul like that is doing on a site like this. He has realized, in the last six months or so, that she’s been the only viewer to remind him of his humanity. Her ability to look passed the charade of his has been refreshing. He wonders if she knows, if she can tell he hasn’t been his best. 

“Starfruit,” he breathes as comments questioning his sudden smile flood in. “You’re too sweet for your own good, honey.”

[starfruit340] : did he just say starfruit?

Immediately, Hoseok regrets his words, realizing his mistake. Not even a rookie would call a user out by name. A few viewers have turned on the user, bashing her for the favouritism he just displayed. “No fighting or nothing comes off,” Hoseok threatens, raising a brow. A smile plays on his lips as some users scold each other to stay in line. 

[agustwantsthatd] : let’s not forget the real fruit we all want.

Hoseok has to keep himself from laughing at the comment. He doesn’t want to start anything else and that comment seems to be enough to keep everyone focused on him, so he doesn’t want to ruin it’s progress.

“Since you’ve all behaved yourselves,” he starts, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his sweats. “The pants are coming off.” 

He pushes the sweats down, lifting his hips a bit. His huge cock slaps his stomach once exposed, then stands tall. Kicking the pants off his ankles under the desk, Hoseok returns his hand around his veiny member, storking himself a couple of times. 

It seems like his remark to Starfruit has made some viewers adopt her sense of concern for him. They begin asking about his day and if he’s doing well. He bites back the sneer that wavers the smile on his face. Though he would like to believe that their concern for his well being is genuine, he knows they’re only saying that in hopes to get his attention.

Hoseok can’t play around it for much longer. He forces a smile, replying, “My day was fine, darling. How was yours?” 

Slowly pumping himself, he reads a few more comments then lays back in his chair. His usual cocky expression falters, a fact he’s not very proud of. He replies to some more users to cover it up, plastering on a fake smile long enough to avoid any questions on “what’s wrong.” 

Hoseok falls silent, squirting some lube into his hand to help get himself off. He lets a few good moans out, closing his eyes and getting lost in the pleasure rather than focusing on the broadcast. His cock’s getting needier as he just slightly tightens his grip and moves his hand faster over himself. Rolling his hips into his hand, he sucks in a sharp breath.

The void within him cannot be pleased with one lousy hand job. Hoseok tries to refocus his attention on the live stream, hoping he might rediscover that forgotten thrill of exposing himself to everyone. However, the closer he gets to his orgasm, the clearer Hoseok realizes that the only thrill lies merely in the pleasure of getting off rather than doing it for an audience. 

He huffs under his breath and rests his head back against his chair. Forget the camera and the thousands of people watching him get himself closer to his high. Hoseok realizes that if he’s going to cum right now, he’s going to have to attach his loneliness to something, someone other than himself. 

The first person in mind sparkles with kindness and Hoseok tells himself he’s only focusing his energy on her because he just wants to get all this over with already. But Hoseok can’t deny the swirl of excitement bubbling in his chest at the thought of her. He wonders if her voice is just as sweet as her words, eyes just as innocent as her soul. Pumping himself faster, he can’t help but think about her smile. Is it as bright and full of hope as her comments? Or does it delicately twinkle like her personality? 

A staggered moan tears through his throat, adam’s apple bouncing, as his brows come together. Jaw clenches, nostrils flare, and Hoseok groans his pleasure through gritted teeth. Suddenly sprouting out his release, he gasps and rolls his body into his hand. Usually, he’d make a show of this, but he can’t deny it’s truth right now. The shots of cum land over his legs, some even on the ground but for the first time in a long time, Hoseok can’t care less. Chest still heaving, he tries to dump all thoughts of her from his mind but she’s tethered deeper within now. 

Stringing a few curses, Hoseok mentally scolds himself for his inability to think tonight. Any other night, he would’ve pulled up some porn on his phone way before the camera started rolling and hid the lewd video from the viewers’ sight. He would’ve continued on his efforts to carry out the bare minimum.

But, thinking of her, attaching himself to a user he’d never even properly talked to, only further proves to him how important it is for him to leave this life behind. He’s desperate to fill a void and acts recklessly. The determination to break the news hits anew. He’s sure this is it this time. He’s going to tell them.

That determination trickles the moment he returns his attention on the screen. The comment section is going wild. His words get caught in his throat. A rush of cash floods in the tune of clattering coins. Praises follow commands and Hoseok is not sure if he can even keep his screen persona up for much longer, let alone drop the ball about leaving. 

Eyes growing heavier, exhaustion slowly overtakes him. “I’m sorry for the quiet show tonight,” he mumbles, cleaning himself up. “It’s just…”

He stares at the comments, the view count, the amount of cash he made tonight and sighs. His courage falters, so that happy, hopeful image resurfaces. He forces a wide smile and shrugs. “I had a bit of a rough day, but hopefully tomorrow makes up for it. I’ll catch you all in the next live. Sleep well.” 

Hoseok leaves them with the image of his fakest smile as he turns the camera off. His entire mask crumbles when it’s over. After cleaning himself off, Hoseok pulls on his pants and tries to convince himself that it just wasn’t the right time. He just got off to one of the users. He’s clearly not in the right state of mind to announce this kind of decision.

With a sigh, he switches his computer off then the music and crawls into bed. Face buried in his pillow, Hoseok waits for sleep to wash over him and hopes, with every fibre of his being, that the fear of telling them the truth doesn’t follow him into tomorrow. 

A loud yawn leaves Hoseok as he shuffles back into his room. He shuts the door while taking a quick sip of his morning— well, mid-morning coffee. He’s not used to sleeping in since it always happens to throw his entire day off. He would’ve been fast asleep by eleven, but a neighbour of his, a couple of doors down, seemed to have other plans for the night. With all her moaning, Hoseok was barely able to get a wink of sleep. She wasn’t up for long, but just the fact that she had interrupted him in the middle of drifting to sleep was enough to keep him wide awake. Once he’s up, he’s up. There’s not much he could do about it. 

With a tired sigh, Hoseok sets his mug on his desk and logs onto his computer. He makes it a habit to check the live website for new donors and sometimes even replies to some comments left last night. He hovers the cursor over a new post, wondering if a quick broadcast would break the news better. At the chime of a new message, Hoseok’s attention darts to his inbox.

[from starfruit134] : so sorry to bother you

Hoseok brings his brows together. Heart thumping, he immediately recognizes the username. His mind reels to last night, trying to recall if he said your name again. Did he maybe mutter it again when he was caught up in the act of getting him off? His fears intensify as he wonders if any of those viewers followed you into your inbox last night to leave some nasty comments. Maybe some were so hurtful you needed to reach out to him. 

Confusion riddles his face when you debunk all his theories with a simple string of texts.

[from starfruit134] : hope all is well.

Hoseok’s fingers hover over the keyboard for a second. Should he really be engaging in a conversation with you? After all that’s transpired last night, the idea of privately talking to you has his stomach flipping with the flutters of butterfly wings. 

He doesn’t know when he last talked to a girl like you though. And the more he stares at your username, the more he craves the sincere interaction of simply one person getting to know another. 

[to starfruit134] : could always be worse. are you alright? did anyone bother you last night?

[from starfruit134] : no, no one bothered me. i just came to thank you for getting them off my back actually

A little smile plays on his lips upon reading your message. His heart murmurs, stunting his breath a bit by how sweet you can be. 

[to starfruit134] : no need to thank me. 

Hoseok’s about to reassure you that the entire interaction was his fault when you suddenly hit him with a question he wasn’t expecting. 

[from starfruit134] : have you really been alright? you didn’t seem like you were feeling well last night.

You noticed? Hoseok furrows his brows, sitting back in his seat. His fingers brush against the letters as he tries to come up with a good enough lie, but he really can’t bring himself to type one out. He wonders how much you’ve picked up on. Can you see through his entire persona or just the fact that he’s lost the motivation to put in the same effort? 

Swallowing thickly, Hoseok hopes his reply is enough to keep your questions at bay.

[to starfruit134] : just an off day 

[from starfruit134] : ahhh i see.

[from starfruit134] : well, i have something for you. 

[from starfruit134] : has sent a video

Hoseok bites his lip, a single brow quirking at the thumbnail. The first thing he notices is ass. Curved so beautifully, your ass struggles to remain contained in your yellow panties. If he had known you were this thick, he would’ve thought of you sooner. With a tilt of his head, he stares at your plump cheeks, smirking at hints of cellulite and lining stretch marks. A light blush colours his face and he has to pull himself out of the trance of the picture to properly return his attention to your messages.

[from starfruit134] : you must get this a lot. these kinds of videos.

You aren’t wrong. He receives videos like this multiple times on a daily basis. However, not a single one of these people have ever been so… kind. Many of them demand that he watch them, which only turns him off. Yes, maybe once or twice, Hoseok appreciates a guiding hand in his sexual endeavours online. But, off camera, all he wants is to be spoken to with a bit more kindness. It’s for this reason that he usually deletes all those videos without a second thought.

[from starfruit 134] : i don’t mean to bother you with mine. but, you looked so exhausted last night and i wanted to show you how much i appreciate your dedication to still live stream.

[from starfruit134] : also i’d love it if you could tell me what you think? maybe even offer a few pointers? i’m thinking about starting one of my own lives and i just wanna make sure i’m good enough.

The first message has him smiling, but the second one fades any happiness he thought he held. Of course, you’re here for a favour. Were your previous messages about his well-being serious, or were you just buttering him up to get him to comment on your video? Do you even really appreciate his efforts to put on a show? 

His mind laps around a million doubts, but his heart intercepts the discussion with the reminder of your usual attitude and presence. You’re considerate, that fact being clear in the way you’ve always put his needs before yours. And even though he really is just some guy online, you’ve always treated him with a degree of humanity that others lacked. He doesn’t blame them, as he’s admitted to himself that he’s the one provoking their feral reactions. But the fact that you can switch between the two so seamlessly means something to him. A little sigh pushes past his lips. You’ve always seemed sincere enough, so why shouldn’t he give you the benefit of the doubt? 

Hoseok sits back in his chair and rubs his chin, staring at that thumbnail. Just from a first glance, he knows you’d do well. A lot of the cam business centres around superficial tendencies and he can’t deny your beauty. He could easily ignore your message, like he does with others, or pretend to have viewed it and reply with a single word, “good.” But, something within him can’t let you go that easily. 

Licking his lips, Hoseok reaches for the lube. He’s getting hard anyways and there’s still a whole day before his next live. After putting on his headphones, Hoseok takes a deep breath and starts the video, full screening it to make sure he gets every angle of your ass. 

Lights dimmed, you smile shyly at the camera. A string of star shaped lights twinkle behind you, illuminating your room with a sensual glow. The quiet beat of a suggestive song can only just be picked up by the camera as you run a hand through your hair and toss it to the other side of your head. You’ve created quite an ambiance for him, one he definitely finds himself craving. 

“Hi,” you giggle, biting your lip nervously. “I hope this is okay. I’ve never really done this before. You make it look so easy every night.” 

Hoseok can’t help but smile with you, setting the lube down to just admire your cuteness for now. He just knew you had a stellar smile. Someone that nice has to have a cute smile to match it.

Fuck, she’s adorable. 

He can’t keep his eyes off yours, even with your breasts squished in that tight shirt of yours. You have this endearing innocence that he’s not so used to. Dressed so slutty, looking so precious, you sit at your desk with your bed behind you. Hoseok is suddenly charged with the urge to ruin you, just laying you down on your bed and dicking you down so good, you’d never want to leave his side. He’s not really sure what you were so worried about. It’s rather obvious to him that you’d do great as a camgirl. Yet, the thought makes his heart twinge. 

“Hmm,” you hum, looking up. 

Hoseok can’t believe how cute you look even when you’re just thinking. He glances at the time of the video, cursing himself when he sees it's only been ten seconds and he’s already whipped for you. He wonders if this is an act, if you know exactly what you’re doing. One look into your nervous eyes let’s him know you’re clueless to your own charms.

“Well, I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time. You looked…” you trail off, chewing on your lip before slightly shaking your head and changing the course of your sentence. Still, Hoseok can fill in the blank you’ve left. You can tell he’s been off his game, he concludes. Now the question remains: how long have you known?

“I just wanted to know from the best if I’m cut out for this kind of…” Pausing, you search for the right word. “Fun.” 

With a deep breath, you let your shoulders fall a bit and let your gaze wander only to look back at the camera like you just remembered something. “Oh, I guess I should show you what I’m wearing first, right? Why am I asking? He can’t reply.”

Hoseok chuckles a bit at your little rant. He licks his lips to whisper, “it’s okay, honey. Show me what you’ve got.”

As you get up, Hoseok shifts in his seat. Jaw going slack, he has to remind himself to breathe. You stand up and show off that tiny, little yellow crop top you’re wearing with those matching lace panties that hug your curves all too well. Fisting his hands, Hoseok lowly growls, wanting to rip them right off while he’s thrusting into you. He knows he’s barely seen anything yet, but he’s already nudging his underwear off. Inhaling a sharp breath, he watches his screen intently as you slowly show off your body. Giving your back to the camera, you cup the underside of your ass then use your fingers to shake each cheek. Your ass jiggles even though you’ve barely touched it. 

“Oh, shit,” Hoseok sighs, melting back into his seat. How the fuck can it move like that? With each shake, your cheeks bounce up in waves. He rests a hand over his mouth, brows furrowing, as he watches you tease the fuck out of him. At least three new ways to fuck you come to mind every time you shyly look over your shoulder at the camera.

You give each cheek a good rub then stand with your legs hip length apart and lean forward enough to just stick your ass out. Hoseok’s just about to wonder what you’re up to when you start to bounce a bit on the balls of your feet. The waves return, ass clapping loudly, effortlessly with each jump. Hoseok has lost all ability to give a shit if his roommates are home or not. He groans out at the sight and tilts his head a bit, thinking it’s going to give him a better view. 

You’ve perfected that move. Catching glimpses of cellulite, Hoseok smiles to himself at your natural beauty. He almost forgot you were a natural girl. He wonders how natural you’ve left your pussy for him.

As you continue to make a show of your ass, his hand hovers over the timeline of the video. He debates on whether or not he should just skip to the parts where you’re finally naked and pleasing yourself to the thought of him. But, with every second that you clap or shake your ass, Hoseok concludes that he really doesn’t want to miss a second of you. Moving his cursor to the side, Hoseok settles on letting you tease him for a little while longer. 

You giggle as you look at the lens over your shoulder and stand up straight again, suddenly getting shy. Hoseok smiles and chuckles a bit with you, not able to resist how adorable you are. He lets out a hissing sigh, trying to figure out why the fuck this didn’t happen sooner. The thought of you last night got him off, the sight of you this morning has transported him into uncharted grounds. He’s never sure what he should be doing. Sometimes, he’s too entranced by your beauty to do anything at all, and other times his hand acts on his own. Taking a deep breath, Hoseok decides to simply stroke himself a bit for now, watching as you pick up the camera and set it up just in front of your bed.

You crawl over the sheets, oblivious to how good of an angle the camera has of your ass. “I just finished watching your live and I didn’t touch myself just so I can show you how wet you get me,” you say as you seat yourself in front of your pillows and spread your legs. 

Hoseok mutters a quiet, “oh god,” when his eyes fall on the big, dark wet patch between your legs. Even your inner thighs look slick and sticky. You pull the hem of your panties aside to show him the mess he’s made. Hoseok smiles when he sees that you’ve trimmed the hair up for the most part, leaving a little patch on the top part of your pussy. Fate is cruel to present his perfect girl yet keep her so far away. Hoseok can’t fight the frustration festering in his heart at the reality of your separate worlds. 

But as you continue your discovery of pleasures, Hoseok can’t dwell on the misfortune of your shared distant fate. You’re too cute to deny attention, not like Hoseok has much of a choice to do so when you’re offering yourself up to him on a star speckled platter. 

You tug on your folds with your other hand, fingers in the shape of a ‘V,’ to properly show him how ready you are. Swollen and sensitive, your pussy is drenched with your wetness. 

His eyes twitch, roll back at the sight. Never has he been this fucking turned on before. He huffs a breath, trying to regain his composure as you further spread your legs. Biting on your lip, you look to be lost in thought, looking up at the camera in wonderment. 

“Hmm,” you hum again, making Hoseok’s heart flutter. “I think I’ll just take this off. Might be easier to play that way,” you give him a single shoulder shrug. 

Hoseok lowly moans and nods. His strokes become a bit fast as he watches you pull your panties off and toss them somewhere in your room. Keeping your legs spread, you pull up your shirt and expose your breasts. Hoseok pauses the video, removing his hand from his already twitching cock as he leans his elbows on his desk. Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm himself down because he knows that if he doesn’t he’s going to cum just from the sight of your duality. 

Sneaking a glance at your frozen image on his screen, Hoseok quietly moans to himself. Your shirt is still on but rolled up to display your tits. He can’t believe that someone as shy and innocent as you also has a nipple piercing. He can definitely tell that you have a slutty side, but you don’t like showing it often. The fact that you’re even exposing yourself to him like this is enough to make him want to have you all for himself. He’s not usually possessive but he just can’t stand the thought of you posting videos like this for everyone else. 

Playing the video again, Hoseok sits back up in his chair and just watches you for now. He decides he’s not going to touch himself yet until he sees you finally start to play with yourself. He wants to see you enjoy yourself first before indulging in his own pleasures. He also figures it might be the best way to hold off on his impending orgasm.

You shyly smile at the camera and pinch your nipples, rolling the buds between your fingers. Hoseok smiles, groaning to himself as you quietly giggle and bite your lip. He can see that, in this moment, you’re putting up an act, and he’s loving it. It’s not as adorable as when you’re unintentionally cute and nervous, but it’s just as sexy. 

Nervously sliding a hand down to your pussy, you cup your pierced breast with your other hand and gently massage it. You land a few light slaps on your pussy, moaning louder with each hit. Hoseok’s drooling, though he doesn’t pay much mind to that. Completely enthralled by the sight of you looking so pleased, he doesn’t even realize he has leaned forward so close that his face is only a few inches away from the screen. All he can think about is burying himself between your legs and drowning in your pussy. 

A high pitched moan escapes you as you start to lazily rub your clit with your fingers. Your other hand moves from your breast to rest behind you as you lean back and get yourself comfortable. Gazing down at your own work, you moan again, sighing contently as you gather more of your wetness and further rub it against your needy bud. 

Pause. 

Hoseok leans back in his seat, rubbing his face with his hands. If you were here right now, he’d seat you on his lap and help guide your bounces on his throbbing cock. What kind of game do you think you’re playing? You have to know how fucking hot you are. Hoseok begins to wonder if you’re even really looking to get pointers or if you’re just here to show off. You’ve already set the scene, and look the part. There’s not really much left to it. Maybe his use of your name last night switched something in you. However, judging by how nervous you are, he assumes you must really be looking for pointers and not just showing off because he noticed you. Though, if he’s being honest with himself, you’re too fucking hot to not know it yourself. 

He chews on his lower lip as he debates on what he should tell you. Just a couple of minutes in and Hoseok is willing to transfer all his funds to you if you were a live streamer like he was. But the idea of sharing you with everyone else is not something he’s particularly fond of. Pushing that thought aside, Hoseok ignores the disheartening feeling swimming in his chest from the mere thought of someone else witnessing your precious figure like that. He decides to simply focus on the video and not take you out of its context so much anymore. You’re just some hot girl on a screen, he tells himself, nothing to be overtaken by.

Play. 

You slap your pussy again, squealing giggles then looking up at the camera shyly. Hoseok blushes, licking his lips at how fucking cute you are. With a gasp, you look between the camera and your pussy. Hoseok furrows his brows, wondering what’s got you all worked up now. You shift closer to the edge, grabbing the camera and bringing it down to your wet pussy.

Hoseok’s face flushes red as your entire wetness is in HD. He assumes this must be what his view would be like if you were here with him right now. However, that’s not what’s got him all choked up and breathless. You move your fingers up off your pussy and Hoseok growls loudly at the sticky string of juices that connects your pussy to your fingers. You giggle, in the process of placing the camera back in it’s spot when he pauses the video once more.

This can’t be real. No one this hot has ever even looked at him twice. Those other girls that flood his inbox are beautiful but you’re fucking enchanting. Fuck, not taking you out of context. You did that yourself when you sent him this video looking that cute and irresistible after a handful of messages worrying over his well being. You’ve made yourself more real than your video, obscured his senses with your endearing personality and beautiful body. 

Minimizing the full screen for a second, Hoseok clicks back to his inbox in a different tab and deletes all the other videos from the other girls, even resorting to blocking them, leaving your messages behind. He clicks back to your video, full screening it again. He’s decided: you’re all he wants.

After playing the video again, Hoseok leans forward and watches as you reset the camera on your bed and lay back into your pillows. 

“I’m wet enough for a toy,” you think out loud, making Hoseok smile. His cheeks hurt a bit from how much you’ve got him grinning throughout the first three minutes of your video. 

You reach into your night table, grabbing a yellow star shaped toy, bulky with curved edges, from the first drawer. You show it to him with a smile, and he breaths a chuckle, completely taken by your charming antics. You shove the toy into your mouth, wetting it even more and lean back over to reach for something else. Legs still spread, pussy still glistening, you rummage through the drawer for a moment longer. 

Though your cunt is on full display for him, Hoseok focuses his attention on your face, enchanted by how cute you look when you're focused on something. You have the long string of the yellow toy dangling out of your lips, looking like you’re sucking a lollipop as you finally find what you’re looking for and pull it out to show it to the camera. The long, golden cylinder remote operates the vibrator, Hoseok realizes. 

Taking the vibrator out of your mouth, you set the remote down. You move the wet toy between your folds, drenching it in your juices before tugging on your pussy’s lips and shoving the toy in. Your brows furrow, mouth hangs open as you slowly slide it in, squealing in the process. You swallow thickly once it’s in, the rubber line hanging out of it just like it did in your mouth. 

“If you were here,” you start as you pick up the remote again. “I’d let you control it.” Smiling to the camera, you flip your hair off your shoulder and suck on your bottom lip. 

“Let me?” Hoseok questions under his breath. He can tell from the way your eyes sparkle with mischief that you’re choosing your words carefully. You’re egging him on, knowing he’s the dominant type. As you turn the vibrator on at its lowest setting, Hoseok can’t shake the feeling that you’d love the feeling of his tongue between your folds, maybe even a bit lower. Watching you make yourself comfortable, he scoffs, “Honey, I can ruin you.” 

You keep the remote beside you as you close your eyes and enjoy the little stimulation. Hoseok pumps some lube in his hand and starts to stroke himself again, wanting to match the same level of stimulation you’re getting to feel as though he’s there with you. You must have been getting a bit impatient with yourself though, because not even seven seconds later, one hand is on your clit, rubbing harsh circles around it, while the other is on the remote, turning up the intensity of the vibrations.

Caught in the pleasure, your thumb trembles over the buttons, the vibrator suddenly being heard clearly over the camera. With the loud hum of your toy and the symphony of moans escaping you, the music can barely be heard. It’s just you, him and that star shaped vibrator you’ve seemed to lose all control over. A screech tumbles out of you as the remote falls out of your hand and onto the floor. You let out a moan of frustration while the vibrator goes crazy inside you. 

Hoseok can’t help but smile at your horny, clumsy state. He’s so enraptured by your annoyed yet pleased sounds that he doesn’t even realize he’s been jerking his cock to a fast pace for the last little bit. 

You lay back in your pillows, seemingly accepting your fate as your body jolts and eyes roll back with every buzz of pleasure. High moan after moan tears out of you. You beg him to never stop, grinding your hips up and Hoseok can’t help but wonder what he’s doing to you exactly in your mind that’s making you this needy. 

“O-oh, fuck yee-eess,” you manage to whine. You have your arms framing your breasts, pushing them together for him to admire as you get yourself off. While one hand gingerly plays with one of your nipples, your other hand rests near your mouth, sucking on your trembling fingers like you’re trying to stay quiet. 

“Fuck, just scream,” Hoseok whispers under his breath. What he’d give right now to have you scream his name. He moans loudly at the sight of your riling on your bed, so captivated by your pleasure, as he jacks himself off at a speed he never thought he could. 

Your moans get higher pitched by the second and Hoseok realizes that you’re getting closer. Hips shooting up, you finally cry out all your moans and whines as you cum. Hoseok’s eyes widen at the sight, breathlessly whining to himself as you roll your hips up to ride your orgasm out. 

Face lost in the pile of pillows behind you as you throw your head back, all Hoseok can really see is your slick gleamed pussy. Hints of your orgasm leaks out of you before you flip to your side and pull your knees up to your chest. Whimpering quietly into your pillow, you bounce a bit on your bed. 

Hoseok swallows hard. Going to lick his lips, he notices another trail of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t make an effort to wipe it away, one hand too busy pumping his needy cock while the other’s clutching onto the chair’s armrest. Knuckles whitening, he tightens his grip and lets out a dark moan at the sight of you overstimulating yourself because you’re just that needy. 

Sitting up again, you run a hand through your hair and try to spread your legs. They’re still shaking; you’re still shaking. Eyes wet with horny tears, you let a few loud moans slip pass your pouty lips. “Fu-ck,” you stutter, eyes rolling back a bit as you hold onto the underside of your thighs. He can tell you’re doing your best to keep your pussy visible for the camera. You’re trying desperately to hold your legs apart, but with all that uninterrupted friction, you’re struggling. Knees knocking together, blocking your breasts and pussy from view, you can’t seem to keep your body under control. 

All previous attempts to remain quiet have fully been discarded. As Hoseok previously requested, you start screaming out your pleasures. Falling back into your pillows, body shuddering, you put all your strength in pulling your legs apart and scream at the instant pleasure it provides. Hoseok furrows his brows, chest heaving as he watches you toe the line of your next orgasm. 

You start to rile in place again, choking on a sob-like moan. Hoseok lets out a little sigh at the sound, swearing to himself that it sounds all too familiar. He doesn’t dwell too much on the familiarity, though, as you enjoy your next high. 

Then you suddenly sit up, eyes wide. “Holy shit,” you practically sob, quickly pulling the vibrator out and letting all your juices squirt out of you. You hold the vibrator to your clit and cry out as your release sprays all over you, the bed and the camera. Shutting your eyes, you stick your tongue out to catch a quick taste of yourself before looking back at the camera and squealing. 

Hoseok jumps back a bit, as if he too is getting squirted all over. His orgasm suddenly overtakes him just from the sight of you tasting yourself then trying to save the camera all while still holding the vibrator to your clit and squirting whatever you have to offer. The way you’re still desperate for stimulation even after possibly ruining your camera has him almost shaking. Ropes of his cum fall all over his desk, streaking his screen and keyboard, but he couldn’t care less. You’re both a fucking mess and he likes it that way. 

You finally discard the vibrator, letting it continue to buzz on your bed and fall back. Your body shudders a bit and you bring your knees up to your chest, letting your orgasm course through you for a minute longer. “Well, shit,” you whisper to yourself. Slowly, you unfold yourself and sit up to wipe the camera off with the hem of your shirt. Laying back onto your pillows, you’re breathless, eyes heavy and breasts heaving as you giggle quietly at the lens. “I don’t know if you could tell, but that wasn’t supposed to happen. Maybe I’m not cut out for this camgirl life afterall.” 

You’ve got that shy look in your eyes again, and Hoseok only cleans his screen to get a better look at you. He’s still pumping himself, not completely drained and satisfied just yet. And though you look a bit fucked out, he can tell that you can definitely go for another round. But, you don’t. Instead, you brush the hair out of your face and pull your shirt down. He groans as your breasts disappear from view. 

“I-I think I’ve kept the neighbours up for long enough,” you nervously giggle before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

Hoseok huffs, sitting back in his seat. Another couple of rounds won’t make a difference then, will it? He thinks to himself as you wish him well and hope you’ve done a good job. A breathy chuckle escapes him at your words. He can’t believe you could be this clueless to your own charms. It’s clear to him, as it would be to anyone else who would watch your lives if you were to make them, that you’re absolutely perfect. 

Glancing down at the throb between his legs, Hoseok finds himself hardening once again just from the thought of you. The last stilled image of you reaching back to turn the camera off, a clear shot to your breasts, nipple stud in full view, has him squirming in his seat a bit. 

From the yellow glow of your username, Hoseok knows that you’re still online. But with his cock still craving another round of your beauty, he decides against giving you an answer yet. He tells himself he needs to watch your video one more time. Or maybe even three. Just to be sure. 

After wiping his desk down from his last orgasm, Hoseok restarts the video. He pumps a bit more lube in his hand and smiles as you greet him through the camera. 

“Hi. I hope this is okay. I’ve never really done this before. You make it look so easy every night.”

You sit atop of the washing machine, your roommate, Minh, across from you. After how your night ended, you needed to wash your bedding. Upon hearing you mention leaving this morning, she decided it’s time to clean her laundry too and tagged along. You don’t really mind it. All you hope is that she doesn’t ask too many questions about why you’re washing your sheets earlier than usual. 

You knock your feet against the washer window and try to soothe the quick beats of your anxious heart while she reads peacefully. It’s been exactly four hours since you’ve sent him the video you took of yourself last night. You know he’s online. The golden glow of his name tells you as much anyways. You’re not sure if he has looked at your message though. Maybe he’s ignoring you, or worse. He’s blocked you. You swallow back a nervous lump in your throat at the thought and tell yourself that you’re being ridiculous. 

“Stop,” Minh sighs, looking up from her book. 

You still your legs, muttering a quiet apology. As she turns back to her book, you wonder if it was your mention of last night that’s thrown him off. He did look uncomfortable, most of the time lost in his own world. But, maybe he didn’t want anyone else to know that. Maybe the fact that you brought it up has turned him off. 

BUZZ!

Your heart nearly tumbles out of your chest at the sound. Hands darting to the phone, you quickly unlock it to look at your notifications. Your eyes light up when you see his username. Lips trembling, you tap the notification and wait anxiously for the app to load to his message. 

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i can’t imagine a moment of you like this being a bother

A little gasp escapes you at his response. You blink, once, twice, three times, trying to make sure that what you’re reading isn’t just some hopeful thinking you’re projecting simply because you find yourself completely and utterly infatuated by him. Reading the message over and over again, you try your best to fight off the smile playing on your lips. You know full well that you can’t come up with something witty to send back if you get all giddy. 

His comment is cute but you got an earful from Mrs. Jiwoo across the hall asking that you bring men over at an earlier time to get that over with sooner. Minh was completely confused, having spent the night out with a few friends. You had to later explain to her that Mrs. Jiwoo has no idea what she’s talking about. And though both conversations were mortifying, you’re somewhat relieved Mrs. Jiwoo didn’t think you were alone, getting off to some guy on a screen, and that Minh bought your excuse. 

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i think this site would crash if you started up your own livestream honey

The pet name has your knees knocking just as it did last night. You still can’t believe he said your username and spoke to you through his live. Sure, it resulted in some backlash, but having his attention like that was like nothing you’ve experienced before. 

Looking around, you make sure you haven’t caught Minh’s attention. She remains unbothered, flipping a page in her book. Glancing back down at your phone,  you let out a little giggle. Is this really happening? This guy must get tons of videos like the one you just sent, tons of people must throw themselves at him like you indirectly did. With that thought suddenly in mind, you wonder if he’s merely telling you all this to be nice. Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings and is talking you up just to keep you away. 

[to hopeonthescreen340] : you really mean it? 

You type and delete the message a couple of times before finally sending it. Chewing on your lower lip, you watch the three floating bubbles wave as he types out his reply. Did that sound too desperate? Your fingers tremble over the keyboard again as you let out a shaky deep breath. No. You mentally assert. Why would he lie? If he wanted to get you off his back he would have ignored your messages, maybe even deleted them all too. He has nothing to gain from lying to you. 

[from hopeonthescreen340] : with all my heart

You bite back a giggle, in the middle of typing out a reply of gratitude when he sends another message that has you shaking again. 

[from hopeonthescreen340] : but i don’t think you should host a livestream

Defeated, disheartened, disillusioned, you scoff at your phone. Is he playing games? Is that what he’s up to right now? Slouching, you knit your brows and glare down at your screen. 

[to hopeonthescreen340] : thought you meant what you said?

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i did 

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i do

[from hopeonthescreen340] : youre just a little too innocent for this kind of scene

You shake your head, dryly chuckling in disbelief. What kind of backhanded compliment is that? Too innocent? Yes, maybe you were nervous in the beginning but you thought that the rest of the video was pretty good. Heart sinking, you can only stare down at your phone. 

How could you not see this coming? You sent your favourite camboy a video of yourself with only the best scenario in mind. How could you so easily disregard the possibility of being rejected like this? Running a hair through your hair, you type a quick, plain response. 

[to hopeonthescreen340] : k. thanks.

Putting your phone away, you turn back to laundry. With a ding, you hop off the machine with Minh and get to drying. The warm, freshly cleaned sheets will probably be the new highlight of your day. So the sooner you finish cleaning them, the quicker this day will go by. Or, at least that’s what you hope.

A tired sigh fills the living room as you switch the channel again. Snacking on some cherries, you’ve taken to eating your feelings away. You’ve already gone through two packs of blueberries and a pack of strawberries. Your lips are smeared with the cherry juice and fingernails stained red. 

As you change the channel once more, your mind wanders back to the messages. Maybe he’s right? Maybe you are too “innocent” or whatever to be a regular on a livestream. You roll your eyes at yourself, knowing that’s not what’s got you so tired of the day. 

The truth is you never really had your heart set on being a livestreamer. You know deep down all you really wanted was some more attention from an online crush. You wanted to feel beautiful to him, wanted to know he was losing himself to the thought of you. To have him crave you like you crave him was your real intention behind that video. And now that you know that’s not the case, you can’t help but feel riddled with regret and stupidity. You should’ve taken what you could, taken the use of your username as the flirty, casual comment it was meant to be. You took him out of the context of the live stream too soon, too quick. You’ve got your hopes up and all you have left to show for it is cherry lips and fingertips. 

The vibrating hum of your phone pulls you out of your thoughts. You grab a tissue and wipe as much of the fruit off your hands before picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“It’s busy here. I’m probably gonna be home late.”

You glance out the window, judging how dark it already is. The sun’s already setting, swirls of golden peach hues taking over the darkening sky. Minh’s not usually home before dark anyways, but you appreciate the call either way. “Alright. There’s some leftovers for you when you get here.”

“Great, I’m starved. Hey, did you check the mail?”

You bite on your lip to hold back a forgetful sigh. “Mhm,” you lie, slowly getting up from your spot. You tiptoe your way to the door and try to pick up your keys as quietly as possible. 

Minh must’ve heard the lie in the sudden high tone of your voice or the jingle of the keys because her scoldings soon followed. “I told you to check it four times before I left. It’s probably full now. You know I’m waiting on a package. How is it supposed to fit if mail from a week ago is still in there?” 

“I’m getting it right now. I promise!” you reassure. 

Minh sighs and mutters a “you better” before hanging up. 

You sigh and toss your phone on the table by the door, heading out to get Minh’s precious mail. You were going to suggest that she just pick it up on her way to the apartment once she’s off her shift, but the last time you did that, she scolded you for not doing your half of the chores. You figured it’s better to just go do it yourself. 

Lost in thought, you don’t realize you’ve left barefoot. And, to top that embarrassing realization, you also left behind a sweater, cardigan, something to cover yourself with as all you have on is a pastel yellow tank top and a pair of matching lounge shorts. Annoyed with yourself, you figure it's much easier to just quickly go grab your mail now instead of riding the elevator up and down. 

You pad the cold ground of the building’s lobby, rushing to the foyer before someone can see you. After fumbling with the keys for a couple of seconds, you finally find the right one and unlock your mailbox. 

“‘Scuse me,” a voice mutters to your left. 

You keep your eyes locked on your mail. For some reason, you figure that if you don’t make eye contact with the other tenant, then you’d face less embarrassment. So, you mumble an apology and side stepping to the right all while keeping your head low. Your plan seems foolproof until he quietly thanks you in a deep voice all too familiar to ignore. That lively tone laced in a tired voice tickles the curve of your spine, making you roll your shoulders back.

Curiosity always seems to get the best of you. Trailing your gaze up his frame, you think he doesn’t look that familiar until- 

“Oh god,” you whisper. 

He turns to face you, face dropping when he recognizes you as well. You bring your letters up to your face, shielding yourself from the shame and embarrassment of coming face to face with the man that subvertly rejected you online. Peeking above them, however, you can’t resist the urge to check him out. You tell yourself it’s to make sure it’s really him, but you know full well that you just want to get a good look at him. 

Loose grey sweatpants, baggy white shirt, black hair in its usual middle part, exposing just the right amount of forehead to get you wet from just one glance. Oh, and that little, silver hoop pierced into his nostril. It looks even more heavenly in person, as does he. Yeah, it’s definitely him. You can feel your heart taking residence in your throat as you meet his dazed gaze. 

“Oh my god,” you repeat to yourself in a whisper. Glancing between him and the key in his mailbox, you can’t believe he lives in the same building as you. You’ve been watching his videos for about six months now. Never had you seen him around your building before, not even a bump in the elevator. 

“Starfruit,” he mutters, sounding surprised himself.

For some reason, the nod to your username draws a little mewl out of you. Your eyes widen the moment you realize what you’ve just done. His brows shoot up, the tips of his ears tinting red. 

“I’m sorry,” you rush out. “I, um, I didn’t mean to do any of that.” 

His expression immediately softens, a little smirk gracing his lips as he scans your figure. You shift your weight from foot to foot, eyes averting to the mailboxes as his eyes lock on your hips, drinking in the way your shorts sit on your curves. You can feel his eyes soon trail up and linger on your breasts. You internally scold yourself for resting your shoulders back and puffing out your chest so he can get a better view. Even after all that’s transpired, you still can’t help but throw yourself at him. 

He doesn’t seem to mind that, however, shamelessly staring at how your cleavage peeks out of your pastel yellow tank top. Clearing his throat, he snaps his gaze back to your face as if just remembering that you’re watching him stare at you. “Uh, there’s no need to apologize,” he shrugs before turning to grab his mail too. 

“I didn’t know you lived-”

“Me either,” he cuts you off, biting his lip when he realizes what he did. He lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes his head. “Uh-”

“I wouldn��t have sent anything if I’d known,” you explain. Shutting your mailbox, you lock it once more and remove your key all while continuing to hold your mail over your face to hide your shame. 

His smile somewhat wavers as he tilts his head to get a better look at your face despite the presence of your mail in front of it. “Why?”

You clutch onto your keys, avoiding his gaze as you reply, “well, um, it’s just a bit embarrassing to send that kind of thing to someone in your building.”

“And it wouldn’t be to a stranger?”

You sigh and finally meet his eyes. “For all I knew, you were on the other side of the world. I didn’t risk much when you rejec-” You cut yourself off, clearing your throat. “It’s just different when it’s to a stranger.”

He shuts his mailbox too, dryly chuckling at you. He gives you one last once over, licking his lips, before walking past you. You furrow your brows, confused eyes following his tall frame back to the building’s lobby. You can’t help but wonder what the look was for. Did you say something wrong? Maybe that whole thing about strangers was offensive? 

“Wait,” you call after him, following his steps to the elevator.

He pushes the button then spares you a side glance as he shifts through his mail. You curl a loose strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly grabbing his attention. His eyes lock on the simple action, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. 

You hold your mail to your chest, letting out a little sigh, then muster the courage to say. “Look, I’m just sorry I sexualized you.” The honest confession has you gulping, looking at the floor in the hopes that it will open up and swallow you whole just to get you out of this humiliation fest you’ve got yourself lost in. “It’s just easier to feel less guilt about it through a stranger’s live stream rather than a neighbour’s.”

The elevator rings, signalling it’s arrival and you wait for him to make a move to enter. Only when he nods towards the door, urging you to go in first, do you step onto the elevator. 

“Floor?”

“Tenth,” you mutter, regretting every word you’ve spoken since running into him. 

He remains silent for a second before clearing his throat. Glancing at him, you raise a brow. “I sexualized myself, so there’s no need to blame yourself for anything. And, for the record, I’m not sorry about that video at all.” A blush creeps up his neck at his own confession. 

Licking your lips, you draw your bottom lip between your teeth, nervously nibbling on it. Not much of his reply makes sense. For one, it goes against whatever you thought he meant in his messages earlier today. You want to believe he rejected you since he already said that in so many words but his sincerity makes you question your interpretation. 

“So you actually…” you trail off, reading his expression carefully. “You actually liked the video?”

His entire face reddens. You’ve never seen him this shy before. He’s usually so cocky, so controlled. Not a lot can faze him. In fact, now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him fazed by any sexual things his viewers have commented. Yet, here he is. Looking flushed and, dare you even think, embarrassed, he shifts his weight from foot to foot. “It was amazing,” he whispers, looking over to you. “I watched it more than once actually.”

Your jaw falls, eyes widen. Is that why it took him so long to reply? The air in your lungs thickens as you realize that he probably got off to your video. The thought alone has you shivering in place with lustful pride. 

“Really?”

He nods.

“How many times?”

DING!

The elevator signals the floor arrival and it’s only now that you realize he only hit the button to the tenth floor. He nods for you to step out first and you obey, eyes aimlessly staring at the floor as you try to make sense of the fact that the two of you not only live in the same building, but on the same floor as well. 

With all that has come to light in the last few moments, you realize you can’t get lost in your worries anymore. Turning to face him, you offer a shy smile and say, “I’m-”

“Starfruit,” he finishes with a smirk. “I know.” 

You raise your brows in question. His grin only widens, lighting up the dim hallway like the rays of a morning sun. But it doesn’t distract you from wondering why he doesn’t want to know your real name. “I think ‘hope on the screen’ is a bit of a mouth full,” you joke.

He chuckles, looking to the side a bit before turning back to you. “What’s wrong, honey? Not used to having your mouth full?”

You freeze, breath hitching. Goosebumps prickle your skin as you try to settle your ramming heart with sad excuses that brush off his statement to be anything but sexual. However, with just one look at his smug features, you know full well that’s exactly what he meant.

“Not usually by a name, no.”

Lust clouds his eyes.  He sets his jaw, gaze hardening. Quirking a brow, he asks, “Is that right?” When you nod, he sighs. “Just Hope will do then.”

“Hopie,” you somewhat slur with a smile. 

A little smirk tugs on his lips and he nods. “Sure, Hobi is fine.” 

You don’t bother correcting him, liking his version of the name better anyways. For a moment, you both stand inches apart, staring at each other. He then suddenly blinks and clears his throat. Looking down the right side of the hall, he bites his lip and turns back to face you. You pick up on his hint to go your separate ways and nod, walking ahead of him back to your own apartment. You’re convinced this will be your first and last meeting, in which he will call you Starfruit everytime he sees you and you will reply with Hobi and convince yourself that you’re okay with that. However, his footsteps only follow after you.

You make it to your door before turning to face him. He stops an arm’s length away, features clueless and eyes confused. 

“Looking for an invite to come in?” you tease, hoping to fluster him. 

“You offering one?” he smirks. 

Mouth gaping, you look between him and the door. How is it that you’re the one flustered? That was not the plan. Hobi’s smirk only widens. You suddenly wonder if he’s bluffing, that cocky look starting to irritate your wettening core.

You turn to your door, unlock it then push it open. Leaning your back against the doorframe, you reply, “You tell me.” 

Hobi swipes his tongue between the gaps of his teeth, eyes darkening once more. “You sure about this, Starfruit?” He asks as he takes a step closer. 

“What’s not to be sure about?” You question. “I’m just inviting a neighbour over for a drink. It’s an innocent offer. Wouldn’t you agree, Hobi?”

A low growl tears through his throat before he dips his head and catches your lips in his. You kiss him back with very little hesitance. His lips taste of lemon and cream, sweet and citrusy like he just had dessert. Moaning into his mouth, you hear his mail spill in your apartment somewhere to your left. He then grabs the stack of letters in your hands and repeats the same action, tossing the mail into your apartment. 

His hands are free to roam around your body but immediately settle on your ass. Hips pinning you against the doorframe, Hobi grabs handfuls of each asscheek. Groaning and groping, he doesn’t miss a chance to make you wetter than you already feel yourself getting. 

You don’t hesitate to get your hands on him either. Clutching onto his shoulders, you chase after his lips as he pulls away. Nudging you back with his nose, Hobi then dips his face in the crook of your neck. His tongue darts out, hot breath fanning over your goosebump prickled skin. Warm and wet, his tongue swirls around your collarbone then up to your jawline. Meanwhile, his greedy hands are working fast to pull your shorts to the side, exposing your panty-less pussy.

You don’t give him a chance to see that, wanting him to feel it instead. You spread your legs and hold his thigh between them. Pressing your clit to his dampening sweatpants, you roll your hips onto his leg. 

Hobi stills for a second, only just pulling his face away from yours to watch your body move against his. A giddy grin plays on his lips, his hands returning to your ass to help guide your thrusts against him. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your forehead against his cheek. Never did you think you’d find yourself in this position. Last night, you imagined him fucking you against the wall to get yourself off, but never pictured that wall to be in the hallway. Standing in the middle of your doorway, one foot in the apartment and the other out, the two of you risk being caught in a compromising position by the entire floor. And yet, neither of you seem to care. With his body so close that his heat warms you, you find very little interest in anything else. His racing heart against yours and that excited gleam in his eyes is all you can focus on. He looks a bit happier than he did last night and that alone has you moving your hips a bit faster against him.

“Mhm, honey,” he hums before pressing his lips against your forehead. “Just like that.”

To unknowing eyes, the two of you might look like a long time couple, horny and adventurous in your intimate endeavours just from the way he holds and expresses his interest in you. You even find yourself indulging in that daydream for a second, giving into your delusions and pretending that Hobi is your boyfriend and the two of you are that adventurous couple. Whines leave you as he digs his fingers into your ass. It somewhat pulls you out of that daydream. 

His grip then circles around to your hips, stilling your thrusts and holding your against the doorframe. He flashes a cocky smile at your sad mewls from the loss of friction. “Don’t pout,” he whispers. You further draw your bottom lip and test his grip on your hips as you try to continue your movements. 

Hobi chuckles darkly, tightening his hold on you. “I know you’re needy, honey,” he purrs. “But if you don’t behave soon, you won’t get to cum at all. Do I make myself clear?” He questions before licking your pout away. 

It takes everything in you not to squirm. His voice is enough to make you needy, but his words make you desperate. You nod and pull your bottom lip into your mouth, sucking on the strip of saliva his tongue left behind. Hobi raises a brow at your actions. Gathering some spit in his mouth, he mutters, “pout,” then drops the stringy liquid over your lips. Some of it slides down your chin to your neck but, once he’s done, you part your lips. And as you drink in his saliva, Hobi licks up the trail of spit from your cleavage to your chin. He places a wet kiss to your lips once he reaches them.

Pulling away, he peppers your cheeks with soft kisses while one of his hands tugs the hem of your shorts aside once more. The cool air hits your wet folds. You whine against him and try to fight against the hold on your hips against. The longer he delays getting to your clit, the needier you get.

“Patience, Starfruit,” he mumbles against your cheek. 

The soft pad of his thumb brushes up against the short hair upon your pussy a couple of times, filling the pit of your stomach with a growing restless desire to just be filled and fucked. He’s teasing because he can, because he loves the way you squirm against his hold and pout for his tongue. You know this; he knows this. Catching the other’s eye, both of you share a knowing smile. 

Holding your gaze, his thumb finally nudges its way between your folds and grazes your swollen bud. You instantly shudder, breasts heaving from the excitement. He smirks, dragging his thumb back and forth on your clit as he watches you slowly come undone. 

His head lowers again, lips latching onto your neck. He nibbles and sucks on your skin. You can only tangle your fingers in his hair and moan. As your eyes flutter shut, Hobi fully removes his right hand from your hip, and devotes it to your pussy. He runs two long, slender fingers between your folds, instantly drenching them, and chuckles against your neck, “what’s got you this wet, Starfruit?”

A gasp escapes you as he circles his fingers around your clit. Your mind’s a foggy mess, focused only on his pretty face and how easily his fingers can have you shaking. There’s not much attention spared on anything else, so you answer with the first thing that comes to mind. Eyes hooded, you reply, “Just a little hope.” 

He likes it- loves it, fingers slipping into your pussy in an instant. A growl rumbles upon your skin in the process and you can’t fight the shivers that dance along your spine. You whimper his name, resting your forehead on his shoulder. The hand previously holding your hips still wraps around your waist. He’s somewhat cradling you against his chest as his fingers unforgivingly thrust in and out of you. Movements harsh but touches so gentle; Hobi is a god of duality. Just another fact you can’t deny.

Your orgasm knots in the pit of your stomach, only just satisfying that boundless crave for him. His body is all but pressed against yours. Cheek to cheek, your lips are merely inches away from his ear, while his kisses yours. You untangle your fingers from his hair, gently tugging on it as you do just because you can, and you wrap your arms around his shoulder in a tight, desperate embrace. Still, you need more of him, need him closer, so you hook a leg around his waist too. 

Hobi growls a chuckle against the shell of your ear as he gives into your silent, needy request and slides his hand from your waist to your ass. He lands a light spank, as if testing your limits, drawing a loud squeal out of you. 

“F-fuck,” you whine. “Again?” you ask, pushing your ass back into his hand. “Please! Pl-ease, Hobi.”

He groans, whispering, “Already begging, honey?” 

Before you can reply, he spanks you again. The smack is harder, clap louder and you can’t help but match the volume of your moans to it. Your pussy tightens, hips roll uncontrollably against his fingers. You're reaching your peak; the both of you can feel it. Hobi grips onto your ass, and it’s only now that you also realize you’re clinging onto him not just because you want him, but to keep from falling. Your knees have gone weak awhile ago, but you were so enthralled by the pleasure to fully register it. 

You’re squealing, screeching your moans against his shoulder with every wet slouch that echoes from your core. “Oh, god! Yes, yes, yes, Hobi! I’m- I’m-”

His little eager chuckles, the kind where his voice rumbles into your ear and echoes within your soul, are the force that push you off the edge… until the door across the hall opens. 

Mrs. Jiwoo screams at the pornographic sight in front of her. You quickly shoot a hand to his wrist, holding it still in you the moment you realize you’ve provoked an audience. Though you’ve kept his hand still from the embarrassment your mind’s telling you you’re supposed to have, your hips continue their lifts against his hand. The act of getting caught has you shaking with the wash of a harsh orgasm that you can’t seem to stop yourself. Hobi peppers your face with kisses, unfazed by the interruption as well. Within seconds, you flood his fingers with your release. 

The older woman is beside herself. She rushes back into her apartment as you throw your head back and moan a giggle of delight. “When I said during the day, this is not what I meant!” She shouts from the other side of the door. 

You don’t care. You can barely even hear her with how powerful your high hits you. Your ears feel as though they’re submerged underwater, mind fogging with light-headedness and body shuddering as it struggles to stay upright. 

“You fucking slut,” Hobi seethes, gently sinking his teething into your neck. 

You whimper in response, hips jolting in an attempt to escape the overstimulation of his ruthless fingers pushing in and out of you.  

“That got you off, huh slut? Getting caught by the neighbours?”

“Maybe I’m not as innocent as you think.”

The growl that echoes in his chest is enough to make you cum a bit more. And the fact that you know that response wasn’t what he was expecting has a smile playing on your trembling lips. A few strands of his hair fall over his eyes as he scans your face. He looks as though he’s trying to place you, confused by your words and actions. A smile suddenly stretches upon his lips, that tongue of his cockily pushing out.

You can’t quite think straight with his fingers still deep in you, holding still while your hips jolt against his hands. But, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s amused, perhaps even obsessed with the way you discard your inhibitions for him. The reality of the matter is, that if any other partner had wanted you against the doorframe of your apartment, fingering you in the hall for all to see, you wouldn’t have allowed it. But Hobi is different. He provokes recklessness and abandons fears so effortlessly that you can’t help but follow.

Fingers withdrawing from your pussy and into your mouth, Hobi lifts your ass so that your bodies are completely flushed against each other. You suck without much of a command, quietly mewling at the taste of yourself on his fingers. You try to hold his gaze, but his eyes travel to something over your shoulder. He smirks as he guides you inside, the grip on your ass strengthening. Curious as to what’s got him so possessive, you spare a quick glance over your shoulder. Another set of neighbours, Jin and Jimin, stare at the two of you, jaws slack and eyes wide. When you meet their gaze, Jimin quickly looks away, fumbling with his keys then struggling  to unlock the door. But Jin only continues to stare, his eyes dropping down to Hobi’s fingers digging into the plump flesh of your ass. 

An embarrassed squeal escapes you before Hobi pulls your attention away from the guys by curling his fingers in your mouth and tugging your jaw towards him. His eyes darken, face hovering inches away from yours, but all you register is the bulging veins in his neck. Kicking the door close, he whispers, “I don't share, Starfruit.”

Ceasing all sharp suckling and swirls of your tongue, you freeze at his words. His eyes soften and  flash with worry, fingers uncurl and withdraw from your mouth. He parts his lips to speak but you only smash yours against his and clutch onto his thick biceps. He kisses back in an instant, cupping the underside of your asscheeks to give them a good shake. He seems to have some sort of infatuation with your ass. His hands have barely wandered far from your backside, as at least one hand has been groping and gripping it. You smirk against his lips and arch your back so that your ass further pushes into his palm. He smacks it, tongue attacking yours all the while. 

He breaks the kiss to ask against your lips, “bedroom?”

You moan in response and push him back in the general direction you think your room is in. You don’t realize you’ve terribly misjudged your placement in the room until you push him into the door. He grunts upon impact, pulling his lips from yours with a little laugh. You nervously giggle with him, convinced he’s going to tease you, maybe even open the door again and give all peering eyes an encore, but instead he smiles and leads you down the hall. 

Bodies collided, all you can do is move with him, timidly peppering his chin with little kisses. For some reason, you only feel shy in his presence when he’s not overtaken by lust. It makes the interaction more real when he just flashes that bright smile at you and continues to hold you close against him. Lips dragging under his chin, teeth grazing the soft skin, you take a moment to admire his beauty up close. The camera doesn’t do him justice. He glows. Skin, smile, eyes, everything about him gleams, glitters, glistens of beauty. And when lacking a dose of lust, his features shine into something pure. You can’t quite tether the purity to a source, and you aren’t granted the time to as he finds your bedroom. 

In mere seconds, that bright sunshine gleam in his eyes flashes into a dark moonlight glow. He’s lust driven, sex crazed. And suddenly you’re no exception. Following his every silent command, you let him shove you onto your bed. You land with a soft grunt, fumbling with your skirt. He’s so eager to be all over you, he doesn’t even take a moment to flick on your lights. No, Hobi has different plans. His infatuation with you and that video seem to go to lengths you didn’t think were possible. 

“Turn on those lights from last night,” he orders while making his way over to the curtains and draws them shut. 

You furrow your brows. “Why?”

“Why not, Starfruit?” 

He must know the effect of using your screen name, must see the way you chew on your lips and absentmindedly puff your breasts out. In that fruity voice of his, he really can coax you in and out of your thoughts.

Hobi pulls his shirt off as he makes his way over to you. Gulping, you take a moment to admire his tan torso. You’ve been thinking about it since his last live, thinking about scratching your nails down his chest then cat-licking the faint marks up. You wonder if he’d let you do that now. 

But, as he crawls onto your bed, his eyes flash a silent warning to do as you’re told. You lean back and switch on the twinkling starlights tangled around your room. The quiet room mirrors the production you set up for him last night, once again reflecting the ambiance of a midnight showing. Despite the sunset peachy swirls, Hobi has recreated the set for your video. Actually, with the presence of his grey sweatpants and the little yellow outfit you have on, he has somehow merged your two videos together, transporting the two of you into your own private live stream setting. 

“I don’t suppose you’d want me in lace too?” you tease as his lean body hovers over your curves. 

He breathes a chuckle, placing a soft kiss over your lips before replying, “I don’t want you in anything at all.”

Your legs have a mind of their own, adjusting apart to give him some room to lay between them.  Your trembling breath fans over his lips, hesitant hands rest on his bare shoulders. He picks up on your anxiety and nudges his nose against yours, the cool edge of that hoop piercing refreshing your skin. 

Delicately, he whispers, “Lemme know if it’s too much, Starfruit. It’s never too late to change your mind.”

His reassurance is enough to have you arching your body into his.  Based on the concern swimming in his eyes, you can tell that he’s waiting for some verbal confirmation. But you, instead, put your mouth into different use. As his tongue reappears to graze the gaps of his teeth, a brow raising in question, you catch it. Hooking your tongue around his, you pull it into your mouth and hollow your cheeks. His eyes widen with every suck, warm breath heating your face as it fans over you. A chuckle or two escapes him as he watches you hold his gaze shamelessly while playing with his tongue in ways you’ve only ever thought of. 

Hobi drops to his elbows, arms on either side of your head, and presses his body against yours. The shift of his position further pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your previous sucking fest turns into a wet, sloppy makeout session. He rolls his clothed hips into yours with each swirl of his tongue, groaning as you mewl from the subtle friction. 

He seems to be losing patience, breaking the sloppy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your tongues, to trail kisses down your neck. You think he’s going to stop in the dip of your collarbone, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leads the sloppy trail of kisses down your cleavage. Before you can even register it, Hobi has his teeth locked on the neckband of your tank top. He pulls it down to expose your breasts. Locking eyes, you find something animalistic swimming within his gaze. Unbounded, uncontrolled, it seems as though every minute spent with you has unleashed yet another layer of primal lust ready to take over every inch of you. Never have you seen such passion in those eyes before, even on his best days, his best lives. You start to wonder if maybe it’s the presence of another that has him all worked up.

Hobi lures you out of your thoughts as he leans back and rests his weight back up on his hands again. Looking down at you, he admires your chest. His eyes bounce between your pierced and bare nipples, as if deciding which one he’s in the mood for. You take a deep breath and arch your back to push your breasts up towards him, urging him to just pick one already and devour you. 

A little breathy chuckle escapes him once he picks up on your hints. The pad of his thumb brushes over your pierced nipple. Slow, quiet, steady. He remains still, lost in thought before his eyes find yours again. That primal instinct that was previously unleashed has somewhat tamed itself. A little smile tugs on a corner of his lip, dimples only just visible. 

Something endearing lies behind his eyes. Something… pure. You lay flat on the bed again as you stare up at him. Quirking a brow, you silently question his motionless frame. He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even seem to notice your subtle change of expression. He simply stares, admires. 

“Hobi?”

Your quiet voice lulls him back to you. He blinks, shakes his head then snaps his gaze back down to your chest, that little smile of his widening. Before you can question him again, both his hands cup your breasts. You gasp a moan, pushing your chest up against him again. 

Hobi just pushes you back down. He squeezes your tits together then dips his head between them. His wet lips push their way through only to blow and vibrate. He blubbers, babbles, saliva drenching your tits as he shakes his head between them. 

Never has a man been so obsessed, memorized by your body enough to motorboat you. Most of the time, your interaction with others lasts shorter than this. But here Hobi lays, shoving his face between your breasts. He’s infatuated with you enough to take his time. 

Moaning, rolling your hips up into his, you close your eyes and enjoy his little treat. Your hands slide from his shoulders to his back, hugging him closer to you. You feel that sinful tongue of his dart out again, licking a trail up to your pierced nipple only to envelop it in his mouth. Hands lost in his hair, you push his face further against you. You know full well that he can’t get any closer, but you try anyways. 

His teeth graze the silver stud, a quiet clatter of metal on teeth meeting your ears. Hobi looks up at you, holding your gaze, and gently tugs on your hardened nipple. In a pout, you mewl at the sight, the stinging, blissful sensation. A smirk graces his lips when he lets go. 

“You sound so fucking cute,” he chuckles, dipping his head to give your nipple a little kiss. 

He’s sweet and kind and you want to get lost in his eyes and honey voice. But, with his bulge rubbing against your shorts, all you can think about is how well he’d fit in your mouth. Using your feet, you push his sweatpants down his frame. 

Hobi chuckles under his breath before helping you out a bit and kicking his pants off. He dips his head back to your breasts, this time focusing his attention on your bare nipple. He gives it the same treat as the studded one, licking, sucking, nibbling. Mid tug, he trails a hand down your body, resting it upon your drenched center and asks, “when are these coming off?”

“When I get to suck you off.”

Your words leave you fast, unexpectedly. You’ve never been this unaware of yourself, uncomposed. Even in your most submissive moments, you’ve maintained a certain amount of control. However, with Hobi, it’s almost as though all that control becomes his. 

He quirks a brow up at you, releasing your nipple. Scanning your features, he judges how serious you are. With your chest heaving and gaze unwavering, he seems to conclude that you really mean it. 

“Want me to come up there?”

You fight off a smile and shake your head. Nudging his shoulder, you have him fall beside you, laying on his back. “I’ll come down to you,” you tell him as you sit on your knees and push your shorts off.

Hobi’s brows shoot up at your actions. He chews on his lips, eyes devouring every exposed inch of you. As his hand rests on your ass, gently rubbing it, you let your gaze traill down his chest to his tall, thick cock. It’s bigger than you thought it was. You know he’s big after watching his live streams, but you didn’t think he’d be this massive. Vein laced, precum smeared, pink tipped, his huge cock begs for your attention. You gulp now wondering if he’d fit in your mouth at all.

“You don’t have to,” Hobi whispers. You snap your gaze to his and you can see the concern that swims in his eyes. Is he worried that he won’t fit or that he’ll hurt you? 

Licking your lips, you collect any drool about to fall from the sight of his dick and shake your head. “No, I really want to.” Your tone is steady but voice breathless. Pressing your legs together, you can’t fight your need for him any longer. Without much thought, you throw your leg over his chest, straddling his torso as you position yourself in front of his dick. 

A gasp meets your wet folds and you freeze for a second, thinking that you may have acted out of pure greed. You’re about to move off him when his hands smack down on your thighs and slide up to your ass. He pushes your plump cheeks up and digs his fingertips into your little dimples. As you cat-lick his precum oozing tip, he runs the bridge of his nose through your folds. 

You moan loudly, his bold move provoking you to engulf his tip and then some into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around him and it’s only now that you realize, with your tongue sliding and looping around him, how thick he really is. It only makes you want more of him.

While you attempt to shove in another inch or two down your throat, Hobi laps his tongue over your pussy, favouring your clit over your entrance. After flicking it with the tip of his tongue, he purses his lips around your clit and sucks harshly. 

Through a gag, you moan around his length. Only half of him is lodged in your throat, and you thought you might be ready to take a bit more until he began to focus all his energy on your clit. You shudder against his lips. Closing your eyes, you try to recompose yourself. You have a job to do as well and you know you won't be able to do it right if all you focus on is how well he can work his mouth. Taking in a deep breath through your nose, you continue your bobs up and down his length, working your hand on the last few inches you haven’t found the courage to shove in your mouth yet. 

Hobi can’t seem to keep his volume down. Every one of your harsh sucks and slurps has him crumbling into more of a moaning mess. Your jaw aches, eyes water but you work through it, living for every moan and groan that vibrates over your needy core. And though he continues to play around with your clit, the sounds you've sucked out of him have sprinkled a bit of hesitance in his approach. His previously sharp licks and suctions over your pussy have somewhat stuttered the faster your bounce your head up and down his length. 

He composes himself quicker than you do, however. Tongue poking in and out of your entrance, his thumb slides over to your clit and rubs hard circles around it. You squeal, choking on his cock at the sudden switch. However, that’s not what forces you to pull him out of your mouth. That thumb of his drenches itself in your juices and trails up the curve of your ass to smear your juices all over your asshole. As his mouth returns to your clit, he pushes his thumb into your ass, making you pull his cock out and throw our head back. 

You’re so lost in that new wave of pleasure, all attention on his cock falters. You grip onto his thighs and grind your hips into his mouth. Hobi smirks, but he’s not happy with your actions. His free hand comes down on your ass as a silent warning. You want to take it as such but with his thumb moving in and out of you and his mouth sucking on your clit, you can’t find it in you to do anything else but whine and push your weight down on his face. 

Hobi growls against your wetness, teeth grazing your bud. Your eyes widen, and a loud moan pours out of you. He breaths a chuckle over your clit all while continuing to nibble on it. Lips still pressed against your aching heat, he questions, “who the fuck told you to stop?”

You wrap a hand back around cock, pumping him at a fast pace. Still, Hobi doesn’t think it’s enough. He withdraws his thumb from your ass and takes to fingering your instead. With two fingers thrusting in and out of you again, his mouth is free to latch onto your asshole. He licks and pokes his tongue in and out your tiniest hole while your body shakes over his. 

“Suck my dick, slut,” he orders with a growl, spanking you just to grab and grope you all over again. 

You don’t dare disobey a direct order. Wrapping your lips around his length, you immediately pick up where you left off and shove his thick cock down your throat. Ignoring every gag instinct, every urge to pull him out and take a proper breath before taking him in again. But, when he’s shaking his face between your cheeks, swirling his tongue around your hole and pushing his fingers in and out of you at an incomprehensible pace, you can’t focus, let alone think, about anything else. His cock falls out of your mouth once more. You don’t want to disappoint him, but how can he expect you to do anything when he’s making you feel so good? 

“Oh my god!” You scream. Sitting up on his face, you all but force him to take his fingers out of you and relatch his lips over your folds once more. You ride his face as your orgasm nears, a variety of curses pouring out of you in desperate moans. “Ahh, fuck yes! H-Hobi!”

He groans in response, smacking his pussy slick hands over your ass. He grips onto your supple flesh, pushing your ass up to get a better hold on your pussy. 

Your hips jolt over his mouth, eyes roll back. There’s not much more you can take. Body quaking, you warn, “I’m go-nna cum!”

“Do it!” Hobi rasps, sounding hungry and deprived. 

Your jaw falls open, high pitched moans tumbling out as your release gushes into his mouth. Hobi flattens his tongue and lets you ride his face. You circle your hips around his face, mewling and whining as you grind out your orgasm. Hearing Hobi’s slurps and laps over your pussy only makes your body shudder and jolt all the more. 

His mouth suddenly escapes your needy hips. You huff a whine, looking over your shoulder at him. Hobi has his jaw pushed out and lips purses like he’s holding onto something in his mouth. You furrow your brows, about to question him when he pushes your body into the bed between his legs. 

Sitting up, Hobi leers over your ass while you’re left in suspense with your face buried in the sheets. He pulls your cheeks apart and drops a warm, thick dollop of saliva mixed cum. He uses his forefinger to rub it around your hole, catching any leaking streaks that rush back to your pussy. You shudder as a string of mewls muffles into the bed.

“Where’s your vibrator?”

You turn your head to the side, smushing your cheek into the mattress instead and ask, “Which one?” 

Hobi chuckles at your words. As he pushes his finger into your ass, he replies, “How many do you have?”

Gasping from the blissful sensation, you try to focus on the question. You only really have two. The yellow star-shaped one and that dildo you use when you really need a good fucking. But judging by the tone of his voice, he seems to be expecting a lot. You chew on your lip and debate on inflating that number. But what will you do if he asks to see them all? 

 “I-I’m not sure.”

“Take a guess.”

You pause. Balling the sheets into your hands, you swallow thickly. You know you should just be honest, but after that mediocre blow-job, you don’t think you can handle disappointing him any further. Still, it’s better and safer to tell the truth. Besides, you know full well that you can’t lie to him. It would break your heart more than his. 

“Just two,” you finally reply. “They’re at the table by the bed, first drawer.”

Hobi places a sweet kiss on each cheek before he shifts a bit behind you. The drawer opens and closes, Hobi shifting back in place again. “Is there something wrong with having just two?” He asks as he runs the curved edges of the star vibrator up and down your folds. 

Your pussy quivers at the sensation, hips greedily grinding against it. So needy for more, one would think you didn’t just cum a minute ago. “You tell me,” you whisper. After swallowing your moans, you ask, “Doesn’t two seem innocent?”

The toy stops mid stroke and you stiffen up with it. Maybe you’ve taken the comment too far, but you can’t deny the gnawing voice in your heart telling you he’s just here for a quick fuck. You’ve raised your hopes up too high, romanticized him too often not to take what he had said to heart. Chewing on your lip, you wonder if you should apologize for your tone and suggest to just continue all this without another word. You’re about to voice your idea when you feel his lips on your curves of your ass again, the wet toy moving once more. 

“There’s nothing wrong with a little innocence, Starfruit,” he mutters against your cheek. Trailing that toy up to your asshole, he grazes his teeth over your cheek and says, “It’s what makes you so sweet.”

As his teeth nibble on your skin, you quietly whine into the bed. Hobi holds you in place as you squirm, sensing your impatience to be played with again. “Deep breath,” he mutters against the curve of your ass. 

You inhale deeply and brace yourself for what you think might be coming next. Hearing your intake, and catching the way your shoulders rise, Hobi pushes the wet toy into your tight hole. There’s a bit of resistance, as you're not used to more than two fingers in there usually. However, the toy enters just fine. It stretches you so fucking well, making your left eye twitch the way it always does when you’ve reached pure bliss. 

“Besides,” Hobi suddenly continues. He shifts under you again, reaching back into the drawer. “You’re hardly innocent around me.”

The star buzzes to life in you. You gasp and sit up as your body shudders from the sudden jolt of pleasure. From your new position, you feel his tip poke at your clit and you can’t stop the squeal that escapes you then. Hobi wraps his arms around your waist, kissing the curve of your spine and igniting your lust frenzied nerves.  

“I gotta be in you, honey,” he mutters between kisses. 

“Yes, please.”

With a chuckle, Hobi nuzzles his face into your back. The gesture is so sincere, so casual that for a second you let yourself believe this is a usual occurrence. You let yourself believe that you and Hobi always find each other like this because you’re dating. You let yourself indulge in the fantasy that you belong to Hobi and he belongs to you. The second comes and goes, but you’re still left with his warm breath fanning on your back and sweet kisses trailing up your spine.

Hobi lifts your leg, muttering, “Under mine.” He positions both calves under his thigh and sits you on his lower stomach. His hands retreat off your body and you shiver from the loss of warmth his touch always brings. 

You look over your shoulder, curious, and find him lying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. He’s eyes lock on your ass. He admires it, studies it’s curves and the way it sits on his abdomen. Meeting your gaze, Hobi smirks. 

“Make it clap for me.”

The request has you breathless. It sparks the memory of your question all those moments ago, before things go so hot and heavy. How many times? How many times did he watch that video? 

With a shy smile, you turn back around and lean forward, resting your hands on the mattress between his legs. You take a deep breath then shake your ass, the claps subsequently following. Hobi groans behind you. You moan in response. The slow buzzes of the vibrator only heighten the act of shaking your ass over his abs. 

With that extra little treat for you, you feel a bit guilty. He’d been showering you with attention and affection. He’s made you cum twice already and all you’ve offered was a sloppy blowjob you couldn’t even follow through with. You want to give him that little extra bit of attention he never forgets to offer you. Ceasing you movements for a second, earning a light spank to continue, you lift your hips.

“I don’t remember you asking for my cock, Starfruit.” His tone is heavy with authority. It only makes it harder to ignore him. “And I sure as hell don’t remember telling you to stop.”

Another smack lands on your ass. This one is harder, stronger and you whimper at the warning. You can’t bear to ignore him any longer, knowing his patience will soon run out. “I just wanted to try something, Hobi.”

He grunts, but doesn’t say much more. You take this as approval to continue and sit your ass just before his cock, pussy resting on his heavy balls. His hands find your hips again, but they don’t grope you like they usually do. Instead, they simply rest there. You interpret this as a precautionary measure, in case you try anything without permission again. 

“Do you wanna watch it clap?”

Hobi hums in reponses, thumbs gently rubbing your skin. Leaning forward again, you push your ass back so his cock slips between your cheeks. The gasp that escapes him fills your chest with pride. A smile plays on your lips and you shake your ass once more, cheeks now clapping around his length. 

“Innocent, my ass,” you giggle. 

Hobi fills the room with that dark chuckle of his. You can hear the amusement of the joke and pleasure of the display from the tone of his voice. He smacks his hands down on your cheeks, helping them move fast around his cock. 

“Fucking slut,” he hisses as he tightens his grip. His hips suddenly jolt upwards causing you to almost fall over his lap. Hobi catches you before you slip off his lap, however, and holds you back in place. 

He huffs and hisses, moans and groans. You’re sure he’s about to cum, can even feel his cock twitching, but he stops you just before he lets himself go. “I just need to be inside you.” 

The desperation in his voice has you giggling. Hobi spanks the laughter out of you, grumbling, “Behave or you won’t cum for the rest of the night.”

You bite back a whine. Shyly looking over your shoulder, you find that wild urge resurface in his gaze again. He must’ve been really close to cumming. Hobi catches your gaze, a wicked smirk tugging on his lips. He reaches for the vibrator’s remote and turns the intensity up. You whimper and pull on the sheets in front of you. 

Lifting your hips, you nod at his warning and turn back around. You are met with your reflection from the full-length mirror by your closet. It’s parallel to your bed so you can see yourself sink down on Hobi’s massive cock and watch as well as feel your pussy stretch so fucking well from his girth. “H-Hobi,” you squeal as he guides your hips further down his shaft. 

“Hoseok,” he corrects. 

You cease all movement, already halfway down his length. The vibrator is still humming loudly in you, only just distracting you from what you’ve just heard. Did he just tell you his real name? He’d been so adamant on keeping it to himself, even refusing to know yours. Yet, here he lies. With his hands secured on your hips and cock ruining you for all other men, perhaps even toys, he tells you his name. 

“Is it too much?” He suddenly asks while adjusting his hold on your hips. 

You shake your head, breathlessly muttering, “No, it’s perfect.” 

It’s not until he’s guiding you back down on him do you realize he was talking about his cock. You suck in a breath and wait until you’ve completely taken in him before whimpering your name. He grips onto your hips tighter and growls. The reaction is enough to fill you with worry. You fear he may not have wanted to know your name, that he only wanted you to scream his. 

“(Y/N)”

His moans carry on as you circle your hips around his cock. Each syllable of your name sounds more desperate and greedy than the last. And when you finally switch to bouncing, ass clapping down on his thighs in loud smacks, he growls your name. Over and over again, you’re dripping off the tip of his tongue. All he thinks about is you, all he says is you, all he sees is you. 

Ass in bliss, pussy in pleasure, your body meets heaven and your mind overflows with everything Hoseok. You can’t get enough of him or the way he utters your name in that fruity, lively voice of his. 

You think this is all the pleasure you need when he sits himself up. He rests his chin on your shoulder, one hand sliding down from your hips to rub your clit while the other slides up. You catch his gaze in the reflection and offer a shy smile before you feel him yank your tank top down once more and expose your breasts. 

Bouncing uncontrollably, your tits are all his attention can focus on now. He doesn’t even make a move to grope one of them, too consumed by the way they move to disturb their rhythm. The mere sight of him continuously being mesmerized by you only brings you closer to your high. Your pussy tightens around him again and you can’t ignore the twitch of his cock this time. You giggle at his reflection, drawing his attention away from your tits. 

“You’re ready to cum again, Starfruit?” 

The smirk he wears is just as deadly as the size of his cock. 

You crumble beneath it, whimpering a tiny, “Yes, please, Hobi.”

He kisses your shoulder and nods, as if giving you the approval to cum whenever. Your eyes roll back, moans intensify and body seems to be losing all composure for the third time tonight. You screw your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm nearing but Hoseok replaces his kisses for a little bite on your shoulder. Gasping a moan, you snap your eyes open and meet his gaze once more. 

“Look at me,” he orders in a hushed tone. “I want you to look at me when you cum.”

You expected to find that untamed animalistic look in his eyes, or maybe even a barrier of distance to remind you that this is just a one time thing. Instead, you find affection. Within those lust-blown pupils, you find that glowing sunshine-like sparkle of sincerity. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. 

Just like that, while holding his gaze and getting lost in his eyes, your ograsm overtakes the entirety of your body. Grounding your ass into hips, you shudder, whimper and tear your sheets out from under his legs. You’ve lost the ability to hold that honest gaze of his and completely shatter from the force of your orgasm. Mind whirling, ears ringing, you feel like the wind has got knocked out of you too. Seeing stars, you can’t think straight. All you can feel is him. 

And while you’re losing yourself, gushing and convulsing all over him, Hoseok continues to rub harsh circles around your clit and rolls his hips up into yours. He further gets himself off all while helping you ride out your high as well. He groans in your ear as it rings and finally takes to groping your breast again. He grabs at anything, wanting to feel all of you as his dick twitches once more. With your warm cum coating his cock, Hoseok can’t hold himself back any longer. He locks his arms around your waist, holds you still over his hips and releases a heavy load of his cum. 

“(Y/N)” he growls as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. 

You lean your head back against his shoulder. Eyes closed, mouth pouring moans, you revel in the ropes of cum he shoots in you. He fills you up all too well that you know you’ll cry if this is a first and last time occurrence. Your pussy quivers from the nonstop friction, that vibrator in your ass not doing you any favours to slow the process of overstimulation. You tell yourself that the moment Hoseok is done, you’re going to demand that he take that vibrator out and give you a moment to collect yourself before even thinking about another round. 

But then he nuzzles his face into your skin and you melt into his frame. You feel him inhale your scent and smile against you. Biting your lip, you force yourself to endure another moment or two of overstimulation if it means he can stay this happy for a little bit longer. 

“Ah, shit,” he suddenly mutters into the nape of your neck. “You alright, honey?”

You open your eyes and find him staring at your fucked out reflection with a look of concern. Meekly, you nod but he doesn’t buy it. He unwraps his arms around you and pushes your body forward. You whine and whimper, wanting to fight against it since that angle seems to give a whole new wave of pleasure you’re certain you cannot handle right now. 

“Bend over, honey,” he chuckles. “Trust me.”

You moan out of frustration, your ass starting to become just as sensitive to the touch as your pussy is. Still, you know you can trust him, and bend over. “Careful.”

Hoseok kisses your asscheek and mutters, “always,” before gently tugging on the yellow rubber line to pull the star out. He sighs at whatever sight rests in front of him, but you’re all too consumed with recovering from such a hard orgasm. The ringing in your ears has barely stopped and you keep telling yourself that if you keep taking deep breaths you just might be about to settle your heart down and regain your sense of sound. 

The buzzing suddenly ceases, a little clatter on your night table momentarily filling the silence. Hoseok then slowly pushes your hips off his softening cock, rubbing your ass in hopes of soothing all those little mewls that leave you. 

He then gasps and you can already tell that you won’t like what comes out of his mouth next. 

“I know you’re sensitive,” he starts. You whine, already knowing where this is leading. “But, you need to get cleaned up somehow.”

You shudder and grip onto the sheets as a precaution. The ringing in your ears has somewhat settled, but you don’t get comfortable with that fact just yet. After a long whine, you ask, “How do you want me?”

Hoseok breaths a chuckle and you hear him pat a spot next to him. Heaving, you look over your shoulder at the vacant space beside him. You sigh and crawl over there, lying on your back and spreading your legs immediately. Hoseok runs a hands down your torso, watching as you make yourself comfortable on the bed. The two of you work around each other like this is a nightly routine, and you’re not mad about that. 

Once you’re settled, he positions himself between your legs and dips his head down to your pussy. You close your legs around his face in an instant, the sensitivity being too much to handle too soon. Hoseok doesn’t care; he works through it. He laps and licks up every part of your mixed cum. Soon, however, his hands get a hold of your thighs and he pulls them apart. He shakes his head as he devours your pussy once more and you find yourself having to tug on his hair to get him off you. 

“Hoseok, pl-please!” You whine, attempting to close your legs once more. 

Unlatching his lips from your overstimulated pussy with a little wet pop, he sits up and smirks down at your fucked out state. You bring your legs together, cross your ankles and pull your knees into your chest as the last remnants of your orgasm shudders through you. 

The bed dips beside you. Hoseok makes himself comfortable. He lies next to you, chest heaving and eyes locked on the ceiling. And once you feel your orgasm finally pass through, you unfold yourself. Your nakedness has never been more apparent to you until now. With lustful desires trickling away, all that remains is the bareness of your bodies and the hovering reality of your emotions.

You shift your weight and pull your comforter over your curves, quickly shielding yourself before he can look over and get another look at you. You freeze all over when he spares you a glance, curious as to what you’re doing. It’s like you didn't just spend the better part of an hour or so screaming his name. 

Hoseok smirks, gaze wandering down your covered frame anyways. His eyes don’t need to undress you, knowing exactly what you look like from what angle, yet they still do. He finds your gaze again, breath stabilizing, and mimics your actions. Shifting to get under the sheets, Hoseok asks, “Are you okay?”

The question stunts you. Actually, the fact that he’s still here and not halfway through getting dressed stunts you. You can only stare at him for a moment, your ears regaining full ability and chest ceasing its full rises and falls. 

He furrows his brows. Taking your silence as avoidance from the truth, he says, “You can tell me if I hurt you. I’m sorr-”

“Aren’t you leaving?” Your question sounds colder than intended. And the fact that you cut him off to ask it, is not doing you any favours. 

Hoseok can only stare back at you, speechless. He chews on his lip and scoffs a dry sigh before you quickly correct your intentions. 

“Not that I want you to leave.” A brow of his quirks in interest. “It’s just… I thought that’s what you’d want to do.”

He must see the fear in your eyes, must hear the earnest plea to stay in your voice as he shifts closer to you and tucks an arm under your head. You scoot closer to him too, sweaty bodies colliding once more. Your arms draped over the other’s waist, you pull each other closer. His breath fans over your hot face and you slowly trail your gaze up from his neck to his eyes. 

Lips less than an inch apart, Hoseok mutters, “If it’s up to me, neither one of us would ever leave.” He nudges your nose with his, brushing that hoop piercing against your skin.

Your hand slides up to his face, caressing his cheek while your thumb rubs his chin. You want to tell him you feel the same way, that you’d want to be in any moment as long as he’s there with you. But, he seems to read that in your eyes, in the way you hold his gaze shamelessly and flash that shy smile. 

Your lips are so close now, you’re exchanging breaths, but he doesn’t kiss you yet. Instead he whispers, “Thirteen.”

You knit your brows as confusion riddles your face. 

“You asked how many times I’ve watched your video; thirteen.”

Thirteen. Your mind struggles to comprehend that reality, eyes searching his face for signs of dishonesty. You only find genuineness and a hint of admiration in his eyes and the way he says, “Starfruit; (Y/N).”

“You couldn’t have gotten off that many times,” you scoff.

“I didn’t.” 

Your nerves jolt into another heartwarming frenzy as your body freezes over with realization. It’s never been about just sex, it’s never been about cameras and live streams. It’s only ever been about finding the one on the screen, finding the hope you’ve been searching for every time either one of you logs on and scrolls through comments.

“I just came back from an errand. Jin wanted cake and Jimin was too tired to get out.” He suddenly starts, pulling you out of your thoughts. You pause for a moment, realizing that Jin and Jimin have a third roommate. “I was about to go inside when I saw you walk out of your apartment. I honestly couldn’t believe it was you. But I knew it the moment I saw those yellow shorts.”

Your breath hitches and he smiles. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You walked so fast,” he chuckles. “And by the time I figured out what I wanted to say, you were already on the elevator. I was honestly about to just go back inside and forget the entire thing. I even opened the door. I couldn’t go in, though. I just needed to see you one last time.” 

He pauses to press a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips. You flutter your eyes shut, melting into his existence. He continues, “I ran down the stairs, hoping to catch you before you left. When I saw you checking the mail, I'm not sure what came over me. I pretended to be doing the same thing. I didn’t think you’d be that embarrassed about the video.”

Slowly, you open your eyes and meet his apologetic gaze. Heart swooning, you let out a shaky breath and confess in a quiet mutter, “I don’t want to be a camgirl.”

“What?”

“I sent you that video because I wanted you to notice me again. And you’ve been looking so sad and tired during your lives, I just wanted to cheer you up a bit.” 

Hoseok stares, brows knitted, lips parted. You open your mouth to apologize when he presses his lips to yours, engulfing you in a whirlwind of soft gold emotions. You drink in every breath, curling your tongue around his. 

“I lied about you being innocent.”

You blink. 

“Well, you are innocent but that’s not the reason why I told you not to live stream. I just wanted to keep you to myself.”

“I’m not very happy with the idea of sharing you either.”

“I really like your ass.”

You pause. Your war of confessions hovers over your tangled bodies but all you can do is laugh at his words. He can’t hold back the laughter bubbling from his chest either, and you feel the sweet rumble of his chuckles before you hear them. He gingerly leans in for another kiss but it seems to be more teeth than lips as you two try to laugh through the kiss. 

The hand resting on your waist trails down to your ass, rubbing gentle circles around it as your laughter trickles out. You kiss him again, properly and with little tongue so you can focus on the way his lips move against yours. 

When he pulls away, he shares his last confession. “I hate streaming.”

You bite back a gasp, chewing on your lips. He takes this as a sign to continue. “I mean, I used to love it. It just seems like more work than it’s worth now. And I want moments like this more often.”

“You’re quitting,” you whisper in realization. 

He nods. 

You hum, nodding along as everything begins to make sense. You conclude that he must’ve felt this way for a while and that’s why there was a sudden shift in his demeanour. 

Pushing his hair back, you softly kiss his cheek and mutter against his skin, “I started watching for Hobi. But, I sent that video to Hoseok.”

Bodies flushed, Hoseok shudders against you. Eyes flutter shut, hearts beat in sync, and as you drift further into this daydream, you hear the lingering words he breathes into your hair. 

“You’re an angel, (Y/N). Sweeter than Starfruit.”

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission. 

[empress-simps]

Hi I saw your post about haikyuu and you taking request, can I request an angst to fluff poly with kuroo and kenma, where kuroo and reader are dating and kenma really like reader so he confess then there's fluff,,,,, if you're not comfortable that's ok, thank you tho!

Ack im so excited for this- THANKS FOR REQUESTING! This is also my first ever poly fic and it might be a pretty long one since I kinda got carried away oop- I hope this is what you had in mind!👉👈

Idiot

Kenma x Gn!Reader x Kuroo (Poly)

Warnings: Angst with a fluff at the end to make up for it

Synopsis: Kenma tried to hide his feelings as he saw the two people he cares about is dating one another, but his pent up feelings made itself known.

"Tetsuroo!"

Kenma heard your voice echoing through the gym, he was just about to warm up as he puts his switch in his bag when he felt your presence.

"How many times have I told you to take a break!? You're sick!" You scolded their Captain, already changed from your uniformq into the Nekoma Volleyball Club's tracksuit as you pulled him by the ear.

"Im fine! I can totally play! Kenma tell Y/n!" He shouted for his friend, desperately trying to participate in the club activities.

Kenma couldn't really focus on what his friend was saying as his eyes were transfixed to you, taking in your features and just basking in your presence. All he managed to muster up is a nod and hum.

You sighed, shaking your head "Go home. Don't drag Kenma in this. I want you to rest, the sooner you get better the sooner you can play volleyball. Understand?" You spoke, voice laced with authority as you being their manager kicked in.

"Ughh, im so jealouuus! I want someone to care for me like that too!" Yamamoto sighed as they all looked at yours and kuroo's bantering frame. "Seeing how sweet they are makes me wanna throw up." He added as they saw their captain trying to woo you into making him play.

"Then who's gonna take you home? Just come with me-" Kuroo persisted but you just merely cut him off. "No. I'm not here just as your s/o but also the manager for the team. I need to perform my managerial duties as well as check up on them too, you know. I'll just go home with Kenma." You said, still not backing down. The entire Nekoma team still watching you both. Kuroo let out a huff and raised his hands. "Fine fine.. you win.." he grumbles as he grabs his bag.

You shot him a cute smile and waved as he left the gymnasium, "Love you tooo!" Once you made sure he already left, you turned towards what was left of the Nekoma Team.

"Now, have you all finished doing your warm- ups?"

Volleyball practice has come to an end as you found yourself walking alongside Kenma who was busy playing a game. The sound effects of the game fills the deafening silence between you two.

You glanced over him, taking in his features while he was completely unaware. Too focused in his game to even care about his surroundings, you sometimes even have to pull him when he was getting dangerously close to the lamp post or was about to trip over something.

Unbeknowst to you, Kenma was far from being focused. His mind was in shambles, thoughts darting back and forth in his head making him loose focus and actually getting defeated in the game. He tried his best to calm his nerves by gripping on his nintendo switch as he weighed the pros and cons if he was going to confess to you right now.

"Uh.. Y/n".

He called out softly, his eyes widened slightly. He was not meant to say that out loud. You stopped humming as you turned to your side "What is it Kenma?"

Kenma's eyes darting back and forth at his surroundings, trying to find the words to say as his voice got caught in his throat. You looked at him more closely, leaning to observe his features. "Kenma.. are you okay?" You said worriedly, putting a hand on the underside of his jaw to check the temperature.

Before Kenma could even stop himself, those words that he wants to tell you throughout the years you've known each other made it's way out of his mouth.

"I like you a lot."

It was like time has stopped, your hands went stiff as your eyes widened, you tried to play off your iitial shock with a laugh "Kenma, you wouldn't have stuck by me and tetsu's side if you didn't like us." You teased, trying to ease the akward tension between you.

"No, I love you."

At this point, Kenma wants to bash his head against a concrete wall. Since when did he ever got the balls to be bold?

Your hand found its way to your sides as your mouth opened and closed, trying to find the words to say, meanwhile he just stared at the luminescent light his game was giving off.

"Kenma..."

You started, unsure of what to say to the setter "I-i didn't know you felt that way.." You said softly, the feelings you had for him that is tucked away slowly resurfacing.

"It's fine.. You're dating Kuroo anyways.. I just.. felt the need to get it out of my chest." He waved it off, trying to act indifferent about it but what you didn't know was his heart was shattering as the uncomfortable silence grew between you both..

You took in a sharp breath as you stared up at the sky, trying to find the word to say between the setter and you. "Does Kuroo know about this?" You asked him, still looking up and avoiding his gaze.

You can't fall for him again, you already have the most caring and amazing boyfriend that happens to be his bestfriend.

"No. I don't know what will happen if I ever told him.." His voice growing softer by second, you finally grabbed his shoulders and looked at him.

"Kenma.. I don't want things changing between us, you already know im dating Kuroo and.. you're a great friend. I love you to bits okay?"

Kenma looked down as he tried to hide his tears, the words displayed on the device mocking him.

Defeat.

You sat in your bed, on the phone with Kuroo.

"Kenma.. He said something to me earlier." You started as you heard the shuffling of sheets from the other line. "And that is?" He asked a bit intrigued.

"He said he liked me." You dropped the bomb on the unsuspecting Kuroo, the line went silent for a few seconds before he spoke up. "You told me you liked him right?"

You looked down as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, "Yes." . Kuroo asked again, "Do you still have feelings for him?" You sighed "Tetsuroo.. I'm dating you now-"

"Just answer me."

The three of you grew up in the same neighbourhood, you became bestfriends with both and initially fell for Kenma. You didn't plan to tell anyone but Kuroo found out and pratically forced you to spill. A few years later you began dating Kuroo, him confessing and you accepting it. You thought your feelings for Kenma were long gone but here you are, back to square one.

"I thought I got over it.. but it resurfaced.." You mumbled, tearing up and hoping that a fight wouldn't ensue.

Kuroo sighed, "Okay."

You looked at your phone then pressed it up again on your ear. "Okay what?" Your voice laced with a little bit of panic.

"Okay."

"What do you mean okay Kuroo Tetsuroo!?" You asked him frantically, afraid he was going to end it with you over the phone.

"I just need time to think." He said as the line went dead. You dropped your phone beside your bed as you let a few tears fall.

The next few days had been rough, Kuroo wouldn't answer your calls and avoided you as you have been trying to avoid Kenma who is in the same class as you.

"Still not okay Y/n-chan?" Yaku walked alongside you as he checked over you. You sighed as you shook your head, eyes puffy from crying sessions you partake in the evening

"Kuroo didn't broke up with you over the phone did he? I'll wrangle hi-"

"I didn't, no reason to beat me up." The voice you know all too well spoked up as your posture stiffened, not looking back.

You felt him grab your wrist and lead you outside "Let's talk." Your breath hitched as you saw Kenma outside, by the looks of it, he was waiting for you and kuroo to show up.

"Now that we're all here, let's make things clear." Kuroo started, "Kenma and I have talked about it. Don't worry, we didn't fight or somethibg like that." He chuckled

"Since you both like us we came up with a solution.." Kenma said softly, eyes still not meeting yours. You kinda felt guilty for avoidibg him.

"Why don't you date both of us?" Kuroo asked, his hands finding it's way to Kenma's which definetly didn't go unnoticed by you.

"Do you guys like each other..?" You asked, still looking at their intertwined hands. "Yea, we talked about it and realized our feelings." Kuroo said as he held your haid and waited for a reaction.

You smiled and squeezed his hand "Good. I don't think I can date you both knowing you'll probably compete over my gorgeus self."

Kuroo laughed while Kenma has a small smile on his face "Kenma.. I'm sorry for ignoring you for the past days..please forgive me?" You asked, taking his hands to yours. What you didn't expect was a light kiss on the cheek, "I think you know the answer."

"Oya? What about me?" Kuroo pouted, asking for a kiss, Kenma complied but you just ran away, laughter echoing in the now empty halls.

"Y/n my kisseeeees!" Kuroo yelled after you, as you relentlessly teased him while running.

Kenma looked at his boyfriend and s/o while sighing, a small smile plastered on his face. What a bunch of idiots.

His idiots.

>> Nekoma Masterlist

>> Main Masterlist

[trueshellz]

Party Event for @fuwushiguro and @httptamaki

Gojou x f!reader x Getou

Warnings: oral (m receiving), spanking, rimming (f recieving), titty slapping, some dub-con and hinted non-con, dirty talk, pet names, drinking, swearing, anal mentioned.

Summary: A night out after a bad break up and suddenly you're sandwiched between two guys during their birthday party. What could go wrong?

A/N: a) this turned out a lot darker than intended and b) this was due last but the story wouldn't leave my brain. So here we go.

Loud music, flowing alcohol and your friends surrounding you... the best thing after a bad break up.

"We need to get you under someone to get over that bastard."

Or not.

Choking on your drink, you glared at your best friend as she downed another shot and laughed at her own comment. Rolling your eyes in a very obvious manner, you chose instead to ignore her hoping she would get the idea and stop trying to get you laid. Finding out that your boyfriend of two years was cheating on you, so much so that he thought fucking someone else in your shared bed was a good idea, was the catalyst to the current situation you were in.

After a good cry, throwing him out the house as well as all his belongings and camping out in your bed (after burning the bedsheets and buying a new mattress, of course) you had gone over to your friends' house to rant. Their best idea being for you to go out and get plastered and have sex with someone else to get your ex out your system.

"Listen here, bitch." Counting each idea on her fingers as she spoke loudly. "We need to forget about that small dicked guy. Get you drunk. Pick up a cute guy. And get you satisfied. Sexually."

This time you couldn't help but sputter and half choke on your drink, throwing a napkin at her this time even when she burst out laughing. Your group of friends all agreed, nodding along as if she had spoken some great wisdom. Banging your head on the table, you swore loudly at her.

"Shut up. You dragged me out. I agreed. I did not agree to sleeping with someone. Lemme mope in peace."

"Nope." Screeching loudly as you were dragged up and towards the door. "There's a party we wanna take you to. There's rumours it's a birthday bash for some rich guy. And rich, means handsome. Handsome means a good fuck."

Yelping as you were manhandled, trying to walk and manage to swat your friend seemed harder than you had originally thought. What crazy logic is this? Walking past the crowds, more loud music and towards your destination, you couldn't help reconsider their plan. The streets blending into one long road as you were turned left and right, thoughts swirling around your head from the various conversations.

Would sleeping with someone else get your ex out your system?

Should you just get it out your system?

Maybe pick a guy up, have him screw your brains out with no strings attached?

"And what do we have here?"

Spinning around, you were met with onyx eyes staring down at you. His dark hair pinned up into a bun, strands framing his face, just caressing the side of his mouth that was tilted up in a small smirk. You couldn't help but gulp as you saw how broad he was, wide shoulders and chest joining his muscled arms that had somehow caged you to the door.

"I... I was here with friends." Glancing around, you growled when they simply waved at you from the bar.

Great, just great.

Getou couldn't help but smile at you, you looked so flustered and confused standing their all alone. He was a little surprised to have a group of women make a deal with him, pay him even, to seduce you. Something about an ex you needed to forget. You were small compared to him, eyes darting between him and the door as you tried to figure out a way to leave. Pushing you gently to the wall, he ran his nose up the side of your face, laughing when you tried to push him away.

"So fucking innocent, aren't you sweet girl?"

Edging away, pressing yourself to the wall as you tried to escape his wandering hands, you couldn't help but get angry when he just laughed at you. Opting to stamp on his foot, you gasped when he pulled you against him, the hard planes of his chest pressed against your tits. Dark eyes staring down at you, head titled as he held you chin in one hand, surprisingly a soft gesture for someone so serious looking.

"I didn't mean to scare you, sweet girl. But you look like you could do with unwinding and letting your hair down."

"My friends dragged me here. Said it'd be good for me to get out the house."

The last word was a sigh, his hands trailing down your cheek towards the neckline of your dress as you spoke. Fingers intertwined with yours as he led you away from the wall, the crowd parting for you to pass. Your friends waving at you excitedly as you passed them, walking to the back where it was darker. Past the bar, past some velvet rope that was lifted for you towards a long sofa being occupied by a very long legged man.

"Did you get lost, Suguru?"

"Shut the fuck up, Satoru."

Letting your eyes adjust, you could see the azure eyes staring at you intensely. Framed by long white lashes behind some glasses, you couldn't help but stare at him as he leaned back and grinned. He was the complete opposite to the guy you now knew as Suguru, where one was dark haired, the other was light, both tall and demanding attention on them. Letting yourself be maneuvered until you were sat between them, you couldn't help glane left and right a few times.

"You want a closer look, pretty girl?"

Eyes wide, mouth agape, you tried to say something to ease the nervousness whirling in your stomach. Sandwiched between two men on the best of days was daunting, but two hot as fuck men like this? A thousand times worse.

"S-sorry."

"How about I handle the introductions, since my friend over here did a shit job?"

"Hey!"

Ignoring the outcry, the blond haired man took your hand and kissed it before talking again, eyes fixed on you.

"I'm Satoru Gojou and that dumbass over there is Suguru Getou. And it's my birthday today... so I've been dragged out of my comfortable apartment into this loud hell hole. But I have to say, it's looking up now you're here, gorgeous."

Gojou grinned as he saw your eyes dart left and right, no doubt embarassed by his words. He had sent his best friend to grab some girls to get the attention away from him, being confused as hell when he bought one girl back. But looking at you now? He was enthralled by your cuteness, the way you bit your lip when you looked around, took a deep breath before speaking and kept fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist when he looked at you. It didn't take a genius to realise you were nervous, Gojou was used to people being scared of him at work. But he didn't realise how much he loved the panic in your eyes, the small tinge of fear and worry as you took in your surroundings.

Jumping a little when Getou placed his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapping around your middle as he spoke.

"You wanna go somewhere quiet, sweet girl? Let us look after you, yeah?"

"I don't- no thanks."

"You sure, gorgeous?"

Blue eyes bore into you, hands resting on your knees as his long fingers traced up and down the exposed skin. The feeling of four hands on you, two sets of eyes looking at you made your breath hitch. You could feel Getou's breath against your neck, lips touching your skin as he spoke to you, his hands cupping your breasts as you weighed up your options.

Option 1: Walk away, don't look back and go home

Option 2: Go with these guys and see what happens

Option 3: Return to your friends and ignore the two hot men with their hands all over you.

"I can see the cogs turning, gorgeous. Stop thinking so much." Gojou's mouth neared yours, breath mingling as he leaned in and kissed you softly, chastely almost. "So beautiful." Twice more before he flicked his tongue out against your lips. "So fucking sweet too."

A longer kiss, harder this time as he pulled you forward by the chin. Another set of lips now on your neck, licking and sucking the sensitive skin there as Getou's hands cupped the swell of your tits, fingers tweaking your nipples as Gojou's hands inched themselves up your skirt to your thighs. Two pairs of hands on your body, your hands clutching at theirs as you struggled to control your breathing and the wetness gathering in your underwear.

"It's a lot more comfortable upstairs, sweet girl. Let us make you feel good."

The words whispered in your ear as his hands caressed your tits, nipples standing erect against your bra showing your arousal. Gojou's hands now trailing between your legs, fingers brushing where you were growing wetter by the second. His mouth touching yours as he groaned, tongue licking the seam of your lips when he flicked your clit through the seam and made you gasp.

"Come on gorgeous, let's get you out these wet clothes huh?"

You barely remembered the journey upstairs, the lift ride being a flurry of hands and lips all over you. Fingers pressing inside you from behind as your neck was bitten and marked up, sharp slaps against the round of your ass when you tried to silence the sounds leaving your mouth as you reached your first orgasm of the night. Chuckles as you grew wetter from the handprints being left on your skin, chuckles soon turning into moans when you brazenly reached down and jerked their hard cocks, one in each hand. Noticing that while Gojou was longer, Getou had the girth that would stretch you out something exquisite, both bigger than your ex.

Giggling when they pushed you into the shower, turning the water on to make you shriek before peeling your sodden dress off you. Your underwear already in one of their pockets, for safekeeping apparently..m but you knew better. You watched in awe as they stripped off, dim lighting casting shadows on their hard bodies, broad chests and tapered waists. Where was one bronzed, the other was almost iridescent, skin pale where his friend was tanned, but both in amazing physical shape.

Sandwiched between them, their hands tracing the lushness of your breasts and dipping lower to rub your needy clit as your legs almost gave out from the feeling of their naked bodies against yours. Water cascading down and causing your skin to become slippery, adding to the wetness that was already there. You shrieked when you felt hands holding your ass open, trying to move away when Getou carefully brushed the sensitive puckered hole even though you were held tight by his partner in crime.

"Ever had someone here before, sweet girl?" You shook your head, a little worried. "Think you could let me tongue this pretty ass?" A beat, before you nodded slowly. "Good girl." The words shooting straight to your core.

Moving to the bedroom, Gojou already stretching out with his legs bent on the bed. His hand stroking his hard dick up and down slowly, glasses removed and hair down flat against his forehead he looked boyish and young compared to the serious nature you had seen earlier. A crooked finger had you leaning over and taking his length in your mouth, tongue tasting the precum that had gathered. Your hand reaching up to stroke the length that you couldn't swallow, moving it up and down as you bobbed your head. Hands on you hips again making you jump a little but gasp out loud, pulling off, when you felt a wet prodding sensation against your ass.

"Shit, Suguru give the girl some warning."

A chuckle that rippled up your body, sharp slap accompanying the hum as Getou tongued your virgin hole. The vibrations making you drop your head against Gojou's thigh, hand grasping his as your struggled to catch your breath. Moaning loud when your chin was held in his hand, your eyes meeting cobalt ones as he grinned at you.

"Does that feel good, baby? Tell me where Suguru has his tongue right now? Hmm." A moan left your mouth again. "Come on, pretty girl. Tell me where his tongue is. Bet it feels so good." You nodded, words escaping your thoughts as he fed you his dick again, holding your head as he moved his hips to fuck you mouth in swallow thrusts. "Keep sucking baby, be a good girl and suck my dick for me."

Getou smiled against your skin when he heard you moan, knowing full well that the seductive way his best friend spoke was enough to get any girl creaming. His tongue now fucking into your hole, he pressed two fingers inside you and curled them downwards against your g-spot. Moving them in opposite directions, imagining how fun it would be to have you pressed between them one dick stretching your tight ass as the other pounded your wet pussy. His dick hard, pressed between the bed and his stomach where he was grinding to get some relief.

"Think you're ready for Suguru to fuck you, pretty girl? Bet he's dying to feel you squeeze around him."

Nodding, you hummed in agreement around his dick more so when Gojou's hands held your head in place. Staring down at you while he pressed in further, tears now trekking down your face as you felt him hit your gag reflex. Shrieking around it when Getou pushed into the hilt, your pussy contracting against the intrusion.

"Fuck baby."

Getou couldn't help but curse and throw his head back, hands gripping your hips as he moved inside you. The slickness of your walls swallowing him, he could see the ring of cream you were leaving around his dick. Dragging a finger through it, he pressed a thumb into your ass as he fucked you, holding it steady as took you in long deep strokes.

"Keep sucking, sweet girl. Let Gojou know how much you like his dick."

The feeling of being full from both ends had you coming again, mouth opening wide as your body shook. Hands gripping the bedsheets as you were fucked through it, balls slapping against your clit as Getou moved inside you. Hand gripping Gojou's dick as you sobbed in ecstasy, his hand cradling your face as his thumb pressed against your tongue.

Suddenly, Getou pulled out of you and you were tugged up until your pussy hovered over Gojou's dick. You barely had time to catch your breath when he simultaneously thrust up and pulled you down, your head thrown back as you screamed. The pace Gojou set was almost punishing, where Getou went deep but slow, Gojou went fast. His hips snapping against your ass, as he hands gripped you. Getou crawling behind you to hold your tits, you could feel the herd length of his dick against the seam of your ass, feeling it catch against the sensitive skin there each time you were fucked.

"Slow... slow down. Please...pleasepleaseplease. Slow down, Satoru."

A slap against your breasts had you screaming, trying to glare down at the culprit but instead being met with a huge grin as he did it again. A chuckle from behind you as Getou reached down to rub your clit, fingers spreading you open as you were pounded.

"I don't think you want me to, sweet girl. It looks like you're enjoying this."

"With the way her pussy is soaking my fingers, I'd say so too."

Fingers probing your ass again, pushing you forward until your tits were above Gojou's mouth. Low enough for him to take one nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting lightly as his hands held your ass open. Reaching down to push yourself up, struggling against the hands holding you in place as you felt liquid dribble down the crack of your ass.

"Wait... I've never... wait. Suguru... Satoru. Wait..."

Cold, azure eyes staring up at you while a dark grin crept across his face, hands gripping you in place as Getou's fingers worked their way inside you ass. The playfulness from earlier all gone, teeth biting down harder as you sobbed against the intrusion and pain. Sharp slaps against your already heated skin when you struggled again.

"You didn't even wish me happy birthday yet, gorgeous."

[sincerelyasomebody]

Changes || Jose "Sad Eyes" Guzman

(GIF: @merakiaes)

A/N: This has been in my drafts for a long while🤦🏾‍♀️👀. Apologises on the delay and for grammatical errors. I hope it meets your expectations or what you were expecting. Please let me know if the Spanish translations are correct. 

Characters/Pairing(s): Sad Eyes x Reader (married) ☆ 19th Street (mentioned) ▪︎ Cuchillos (mentioned) ▪︎ Los Santos (mentioned) Spooky (mentioned)

Request/Summary: Hii, I was wondering if your still taking requests! If you are can I get one with Sad Eyes where the reader comes home late and a fight breaks out between the two and then she tells him that she found out she’s expecting 🥺🖤 (they could be together for 3yrs) pure angst and fluff if anything! Thank youuu! 💕 - @multiyfandomgirl40

Warning(s): angst, fluff, language, mentions of death and gang violence, pregnancy

Word Count: 1427

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ - 

The street lights were on by the time (Y/N) pulled into her driveway. As soon as she switched the engine off, she put her head on her hands and took a deep breath. For the last couple of days, her body started to feel the impact of the extra hours she was pulling. Which wasn't a good sign. Lifting her head up and staring out of the windshield, she spotted her fiance standing on the porch. She gave a half-hearted smile and began to gather her things before hopping out of the car. 

She locked her doors and walked up the path to the front steps. As she climbed, she could feel the tension between Jose and herself but chose to ignore it. Moving past him she entered the house and immediately kicked off her heels. She made her way through the living to enter the kitchen to grab something to eat. 

"What's going on with us?" she heard once she opened up the fridge, she closed it and looked over at Jose who continued, "it's like we don't even see each other anymore, because I'm out on Santo business and you're working." He moved forward and gently caressed her cheek, "this is the first time I've seen you awake… when I'm here you're usually asleep." 

(Y/N) turned her cheek and kissed the palm of his hand, "we're both awake now," and wrapped her arms around his waist. A genuine smile appeared on her face when she felt him a drop kiss on the top of her head.

Jose held her tightly against his chest, "querida… why are you working all these extra hours?" He gently pulled away from her to look at her face, "the last shipment the guys and I did pulled double our usual payment, we're good." 

She sighed and shook her head, "it's not about the money… it's more on how you're getting it," she bit her bottom lip, "I'd rather have you safe and here with me than some racks of cash and memories." 

"Querida." 

"With the death of Cuchillos and the newly formed truce with 19th Street I-I can't help but worry that the next time I'll see you is when I have to identify your body," tears trailed down her cheeks.

He reached out and wiped her tears away, "baby I know I can't promise that-" 

"Exactly, you can't! And that's what scares me the most," (Y/N) stepped back, "we're married now, Jose. Not boyfriend and girlfriend, we're not fiance's, we're husband and wife.

"I know what we are, mi amor." 

"Okay, then maybe you'll consider cutting back on the runs you take on."

Jose shook his head, "so you're saying I should turn my back on the Santos?" He gestured towards the house, "the reason we have all of this is because of them. And you want me to turn my back on them?" 

"I didn't say for you to turn your back on them." 

"It sounded like you did."

"All I'm asking is that you don't go on every fucking run!" (Y/N) shot back. 

"I'm Spooky's right-hand, wherever he goes I do too. If he's not available, then it's up to me to sort out any problems," he roughly rubbed his face, "you know this already." 

She nodded, "you're right I do, but it's time we start getting our shit together," sighing, she continued, "you do know there are other ways to get money without having to clean it all the time?" 

He scoffed, "do I look like a guy who works a nine to five?" he began to pace, "I'm not in the Santos because of the money-"

"You joined because of the brotherhood they offered and to make sure your sister and mum would be taken care of." 

"If you know all this, why are you questioning it?" 

(Y/N) walked out of the kitchen and into the living, she reached into the back of the t.v cabinet (knowing he never went in there) and pulled out the piece of paper that would change their lives. Jose watched as she walked back to him with a look of determination. He shook his head, "the block's been crazy lately and you're worried about me, I get that but-" 

"I'm worried because we can't just think about ourselves," (Y/N) slammed the sonogram onto the kitchen counter, "we've gotta think about them too." 

Without another word she walked off down the hallway and entered their bedroom. She slammed the door and ignored the rattling of the pictures on the wall. Sliding down on the door, she sobbed as her hands gently rubbed her stomach. 

Jose recognised what she had placed on the counter, but couldn't believe it was truly in front of him. He and (Y/N) discussed children early on in their relationship, during their engagement and right after they were married. The conversations switched from "what ifs" to "when we" followed by an example of their upbringing and what they would change for their children. It was always a thought or an idea that seemed so far away. 

And now it was going to be a reality. 

He gently picked up the picture and traced the outline of it with his forefinger. His focus switched to the typing of the bottom right corner: his wife's name, date and time of when it was taken and how far along the pregnancy was. Laughing when he realised the date of the conception was around Spooky's birthday bash. Shaking his head, he pulled out his wallet and folded the sonogram so it fit beside the photobooth strip of himself and (Y/N) on one of their early dates. He tucked his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans and went through the cabinets to see what he could whip up.

After deciding on his chosen dish, he made sure everything was cooked thoroughly before putting it together on the plate. He picked up the plate, a fork (because he knew she preferred it than a spoon) and a bottle of water. Coming up to his bedroom door, he knocked gently, he heard some movement before (Y/N) opened it up. 

"I… uh, made you - well both of you something to eat?" He held up the plate and walked inside, "gotta make sure you're eating enough."

She took the plate and fork, sat on the bed and ate away. When she realised he was still by the door, she gestured for him to sit beside her. He did that and was met with a forkful of the food in front of his face, he smiled and took the bite causing her to smile too. She did this a couple more times, but he redirected it to her mouth. She drank all of the water and put the empty bottle beside the bed. Once she was done with the food, Jose picked up the plate and fork and put them on top of the dresser. 

He'd sort them out later. 

"Thanks for feeding us, we really appreciate it," (Y/N) snuggled into his side when he sat back on the bed, he had an arm over her shoulders and his other hand placed on her stomach. He kissed the side of her head. Sighing, she turned to him and wanted to speak more on what was spoken in the kitchen, but chose to relish in the feeling of them being parents.

She pecked his cheek, "we're gonna be parents." 

"Yeah," he moved his hand from her stomach to grab his wallet, opened it up and pulled out the sonogram, "I gotta question though." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Shit looks different, like did they upgrade the system or something 'cause the last time I saw these was when ma told me I was gonna be a big brother," he held the picture at different angles.

(Y/N) looked at him, "kinda, but not really, the printouts are still the same," she tapped the picture, "but you're right about it being different than mama g's, though," at his confused expression, she continued, "we're expecting double trouble." 

Without a second thought, Jose jumped off the bed and picked her up. (Y/N) squealed and wrapped her legs around his waist as her hands went to the back of his neck. They shared a passionate kiss, only separating to come up for air. 

Jose had a grin plastered across his face, "we had a really good time at Spooky's bash." Laughing, (Y/N) brought him in for another kiss.

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ - 

Spanish Translation(s): 

Querida - sweetheart

Mi amor - my love

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

On My Block Taglist

@multiyfandomgirl40 // @firebenderwolf // @b3mybunnybaby // @littleesilvia

If you'd like to be added, don't hesitate to message me! 

[babyybitchhhwrites]

Hisoka x Reader 18+

Title: An Unexpected Surprise 

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 4445

Warnings: barebacking, cowgirl position, hot tub sex

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24581845

♥♥♥♥

Finding Hisoka waiting for you in your room was not a particularly surprising turn of events. The man had a history of simply letting himself in whenever the mood to do so struck his fancy and, despite not having a keycard to grant him access, you’d never been able to find any evidence to suggest forced entry. His enigmatic response every time you’d asked how he did it had been “It’s magic”. Nothing more. Nothing less. It was infuriating and unnerving in equal measure but you’d since become grudgingly accustomed to these impromptu visits. It seemed to be part and parcel where any acquaintance with him was concerned. 

Finding Hisoka naked and waiting for you in the hot tub your room was outfitted with, however, was unexpected. The candles and the scattered rose petals floating in the water with him were especially concerning and you froze in the doorway, trying to process what you were seeing. Nude man. Cheesy romantic setting. The smell of wisteria and jasmine wafting from the burning wicks that were strategically placed on every available surface. If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he was looking to genuinely woo you this evening but you were much too familiar with his twisted inclinations to fall for that trick. 

“What are you doing?” You asked suspiciously. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He simpered and submerged one sharp nailed hand under the water before lifting it back up so that the resulting splash echoed off the walls. An errant petal cascaded down into the water again and another plastered itself to the elegant curve of his wrist, looking for all the world like a splotch of blood against pale white skin. The handful of candles floating in the tub shifted against the ripples and slowly drifted in opposite directions as he brought his gaze up to pin you with a pointed leer. “I’ve been waiting for you, love. For some time now, actually. I think I might be starting to prune.” 

“Pity.” You murmured, thoroughly distracted. “That doesn’t answer my question though. What’s with all of … this?”

Cocking his head to one side when you gestured vaguely at the bathroom, Hisoka allowed his smile to widen. “Don’t you like it? I was under the impression that most women enjoyed this sort of thing.”

“I don’t.” You shot back, sounding unnecessarily petulant to your own ears.

“Well, I do. Now get in.” 

Lifting a brow at the command in his tone, you stood your ground. Hisoka didn’t seem daunted by the look of challenge you were pinning him with though and he merely continued to stare you down with a level of patience that spoke volumes. He was willing to wait as long as it took and he would not be leaving until he got what he wanted. Typical. 

You finally gave in with a deeply bothered sigh and reached for the hem of your shirt. “Fine. But I expect an explanation once I’m in there.” 

“You know I’m not in the habit of leaving you disappointed.” Hisoka purred as he watched you jerkily disrobe, annoyance with his antics evident in every quick motion. 

Saying he was unperturbed by the prickly display would have been an understatement and, realizing that you weren’t going to get anywhere by acting like this, you dropped the pretense altogether. Your shoulders relaxed and you reached back to unclasp your bra, shrugging the straps down the length of your arms. Hisoka’s pointedly dangerous attention zeroing in on your exposed chest made your skin crawl in a way that was as exciting as it was disconcerting. You tried not to pay him any mind though, ignoring the goosebumps that erupted across your body when you slipped your fingers into the waistband of your panties so you could slide them off. 

Your nipples tightened and peaked for your audience of one as you straightened back up upon stepping out of them. Being naked in front of this particular man was always an experience, if not because he was quite possibly the most deadly individual taking up residence in Heaven’s Arena then because you never knew what to expect from him. He was capable of any number of atrocities, as violent as he was unpredictable, and here you were, nude as the day you were born. It always left you feeling indescribably vulnerable and defenseless but, in this case at least, he was just as naked as you were. 

Somehow, you found that marginally comforting and you stepped over to the hot tub without bothering to try and cover yourself. Such bashful behavior would only serve to amuse Hisoka and give him a reason to tease and bully you, which wasn’t something you usually invited. He’d have his fun with you either way before this night was through so there really wasn’t any reason to give him more ammunition to work with. 

“I’m starting to think I should talk to the staff about upping security on my room.” You said, casually offhand as you climbed over the ledge of the tub. 

“That won’t stop me, I’m afraid. You’re welcome to give it a try though.”

Shooting him a quick look, you stepped down into the water and couldn’t seem to resist issuing a quiet sound of pleasure when the warmth immediately started seeping into your muscles. It felt much too good for you to cling to your displeasure with his invasive escapades and total lack of respect for personal boundaries. The tantalizingly sweet, relaxing aroma drifting throughout the steamy room also helped and your last remaining reservations were gone before you even realized it.

Humming contentedly when you lowered yourself down to sit, you watched the candles rock around you from the resulting slosh of your added mass to the water. You probably should’ve known better than to trust Hisoka with so many fire hazards in a single space but, so far at least, he hadn’t done anything outwardly distressing enough to warrant panic on your part. Besides breaking and entering his way into your room, that is. 

You glanced across the expanse of the tub to find him watching you, a knowing smirk curling his damnably kissable mouth, and you huffed. “Spill it.” 

“Whatever could you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. What’s with this lovey dovey atmosphere? It doesn’t suit you.” 

He had the nerve to look shocked by that assertion. “How rude! And here I am trying to do something thoughtful for you.”

You pinned him with a wry smile. “I don’t buy that, Hisoka.” 

“Good. Because it was bullshit.” 

You laughed before you could catch it. That seemed to please him and, drawing a slow breath that made his broad chest puff out, Hisoka gradually leaned forward so that the candles scattered again with the redistribution of his weight in the tub. He was lythe and sleek in the flickering light, all sinewy muscle and unfairly attractive. An entirely different animal with his vibrant red hair down, the signature star and teardrop you were accustomed to seeing absent for once. Your throat cinched as you watched him close the distance between you two but didn’t try to escape; allowing him to brace his hands against the ledge so that your head was bracketed between his arms and you were effectively caged in. Trapped. 

“This,” He intoned in a sly, lilting voice. “Is all for me, love. You’re just the lucky girl I’ve decided to share this special night with, that’s all. Don’t you feel honored?” 

“What’s the occasion?” You asked thinly, idly wondering if now was a good time to start panicking. 

Supple lips parting on a breathy chuckle, Hisoka dipped his face down to brush a fleeting kiss across your mouth. You didn’t make a move to return the gesture, letting him deliver increasingly more demanding pecks to your face before eventually pulling back with a soft, reverberating groan. 

“It’s my birthday.” 

Your brows shot up in stark surprise, jerking your attention around to look into his face. “Your birthday?” He nodded, once, and you valiantly tried to wrap your head around that information. “You mean to tell me someone actually gave birth to you and you didn’t just … appear one day?” 

“What a mean thing to say.” He admonishingly chided, but the glint of amusement reflecting in those ocher eyes suggested that he found such an accusation funny rather than offensive. Rolling his shoulders back in an enticingly slow shrug that made the muscles in his chest flex, Hisoka nudged even closer and you tensed when you found yourself pinned against the side of the tub. “Isn’t there anything else you can think of that might be more appropriate for this situation?” 

You thought about that for a moment, trying to pretend like you didn’t notice the spark of pooling heat in your gut. “You’re a Gemini …” You said at last. “I’m not surprised. Actually, that explains a lot.” 

Hisoka promptly threw his head back and laughed up at the ceiling. You chanced a tentative smile, finding his good humor tonight a bit suspicious, but then he abruptly shoved himself up against you so hard that water splashed out over the side of the tub and slapped against the tile floor. Mouth opening in shock, you shuddered as he forced his way between your legs until his pelvis was slotted tightly against yours. The unmistakable weight of his cock, already straining hard, settled on your stomach and your hands flew up to blindly sink nails into his biceps. 

“Hisoka - !” 

“I was expecting to hear ‘happy birthday’, at the very least.” He cooed, peering down at you from just a scant few inches away. “Where are your manners, darling? Hmm?”

Leaning close, he teasingly brushed the tip of his nose along your cheek in a blithe imitation of affectionate nuzzling. You tipped your face up at him and brought your legs around his narrow waist in silent encouragement. It was impossible to deny the dizzying heights of arousal this incredibly dangerous man inspired within you but all he did was laugh, the puff of hot air on your skin making you tremble. 

“What a curious little thing you are. One moment you’re acting like you could care less and the next you’re so eager for me to have my way with you.” He paused to nip at your earlobe and the sharp sensation of teeth sinking into delicate flesh caused you to gasp. Mouth curling in a devious smirk, Hisoka pressed his lips against the outer shell of your ear so that his voice was the only thing you could make out over the sound of your own pounding heartbeat. “Do you really expect things to go your way just because you’re willing to submit to me? Is that it?” 

You tried to speak but nothing came out. All you could focus on was the hard length resting threateningly against your lower belly, the palpable memories of his cock carving out a space within you inspiring white hot pangs of desire throughout your core. There was a veritable laundry list detailing exactly why engaging with him like this wasn’t a good idea but you still found yourself arching into his touch when Hisoka brushed the rough pad of his thumb over your puckered nipple. You couldn’t escape his gravitational pull even if you’d tried. 

“Well?” He prodded, letting the sharp point of a single nail just barely scrape the peak of your breast. 

Sucking in a haggard gulp of air, you clung to him even more fervently. “If you want to hear it so bad, I’ll say it.” You managed to croak out.

Hisoka noised a thoughtful hum and drew back, surprising you yet again when he slipped out of your hold in favor of retreating back to his end of the hot tub. “I think I’d rather have you show me.” 

You stared in rapt disbelief as he reclined against the side, bracing his elbows along the ledge so that just the tips of those sinfully long fingers dipped into the water. It took a prolonged moment for your cloudy mind to catch up with what was happening but, at last, you grumbled something unkind under your breath before moving after him, much more mindful of the bobbing candles than he’d been.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

“I’ve may have heard that once or twice before.” He said with a flippant shrug. 

Pursing your lips, you climbed up to straddle his lap. Hisoka offered you a smile that could only be described as condescending, making you scowl even as you reached under the softly rolling surface of the water to find his cock. You gave it a tight squeeze, reveling in the silky skin under your fingers, and his chest hitched at the sensation.

You let out a slow breath through your nose while you pumped him, resigned to your fate. He probably would’ve been content to take the lead as he always did if you’d just told him what he wanted to hear, but it was clear now that he wouldn’t lift a finger to assist until he’d deemed your transgression paid in full. Such bratty behavior was par the course for him though, so not at all surprising, and you angled his cock so you could rub the glans against your clit in tauntingly slow passes.

“Did you want anything else for your birthday?” You ventured quietly. 

“No. Just you.” 

You cocked a brow at that but the cryptic grin Hisoka fixed you with seemed to imply that was all the explanation you were going to get. As much as you knew better than to unquestioningly trust the things that came out of his mouth, there really wasn’t much you could do to argue the point and you grudgingly left it at that. 

Using your fingertips to guide the hard length of him to your entrance, you started to sink down. The bulbous head dipped into the flesh of your labia, forcing the meaty lips to spread for him, and you sucked in a faltering breath to steady yourself. The lack of meaningful prep added onto the resistance of the water made penetration a slow going process but you basked in the searing burn. He breached your body one torturous fraction at a time, the pressure just this side of painful, until the glans finally popped through the first barrier. You stilled above him, giving your body a chance to adjust before bearing down on him again with an unbidden moan that seemed to claw its way up your throat.

Hisoka responded with his own rumbling noise of pleasure and you choked on a disgruntled squawk when he lifted his hips to force himself another inch or so inside. You swayed above him, reaching out with both hands to grab onto his shoulders when the tension in your loins doubled and threatened to bowl you over. The stretch was exquisite, blurring the line of pleasure and discomfort so thoroughly that you weren’t sure which side you were on anymore. It hardly seemed to matter though and, biting your lip in concentration, you pushed down until he was sheathed within you halfway to the base. 

You had to stop and regroup then, taking several long blinks to clear the starbursts from your eyes. Hisoka shifted underneath you, making your pussy ache and flutter around him, but he didn’t try to force you to take the rest of his cock just yet. Instead, he nonchalantly brought one of his hands around to idly tweak your nipple and you gasped. Brows furrowing, you tucked your chin down to watch him pinch the sensitive nub between thumb and forefinger before giving it a playful tug. White hot static raced down your spine, making your cunt ooze more sticky slick, and you eagerly arched against him with a low sound of wanting. 

“Are you making those pretty noises just for me, love?” 

Groaning deep in the back of your throat, you haltingly pivoted your hips - up, down, up and down - to loosen your passage and coat him in more arousal. When you started to lower yourself again just a brief moment later, the penetration came easier and Hisoka’s cock slipped against your inner walls until you were fully seated on his lap. You tossed your head back, sighing in pleasure, and he took that opportunity to approvingly squeeze your breast in a tight grip. 

“Look at you.” He breathed. “So lovely when you’re enjoying yourself on my cock like this.” 

“Hisoka …” You whimpered and rocked against him, the gentle slosh of the water echoing in your ears. 

“Tell me how it feels. Tell me just how much you love being stretched and filled up.”

Screwing your eyes shut, you leaned into the sturdy muscle mass underneath you and linked your arms around his neck. “I love it … you always feel so good when you’re inside me. I can feel every bump and vein. Every time you even twitch it drives me wild. It’s like your cock was made specifically to fit me.”

Hisoka chuckled and nuzzled into your hair. “Maybe it was.”

You rolled your eyes at that, safely out of his line of sight with your chin docked over his shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind your lack of response though and when you pushed up so that he drug against your clinging cunt until just the head remained wedged inside your body, he issued a pleased groan. You sunk down again in shuddering slow motion, acutely aware of every inch of him that entered you. It was thick and heavy, pushing up on that dense cluster of nerves just right to make your breath come a little harder. A little faster. Nails sinking into his skin, you started bouncing on his cock at a subdued pace while trying to be mindful of the water level but it quickly became apparent that this wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy you. 

It was hard and fast that you needed to get off and you knew the same applied to him. The two of you had gone through the motions with each other enough times in the past to recognize what would make the cut and what wouldn’t. This slow, gentle tempo was decidedly not it and you hissed in frustration as you started bouncing with more enthusiasm. Just as you’d expected, the water churned around your heaving body and it didn’t take long at all for you to catch the sound of it splashing over the edge to hit the floor below. The thought of getting billed for any incurring cleanup costs flitted through your mind, and you were sure it wouldn’t be cheap in a place like Heaven’s Arena, but then Hisoka was working a hickey into the side of your neck and you promptly forgot all about it. 

“Oooh … shit …!” 

Slyly humming his agreement, he threaded fingers through your hair and pulled it aside, nails catching your scalp in the process. You hissed at the lingering pain and obediently tilted your head, exposing the vulnerable line of your throat to him. Hisoka’s mouth immediately descended upon the pounding pulse point laid bare to him, sucking and nipping at the spot until it was minutely throbbing in time with your heartbeat. Another juvenile hickey for you to hide in the coming days, you were sure, but it was hard to be annoyed with him for that when his cock felt like it was tickling your cervix on every downward thrust. The sheer force at which you were driving down onto him seemed to punch the oxygen right out of your lungs, making you suck in one ragged gulp of air after another. You tried to pace yourself over the next few minutes but it quickly became too much and you finally had no choice but to slow to a stop and try to find your bearings again. 

Having him sitting hot and heavy inside you was too much to ignore though and you weakly ground down on him with twitching hips. Hisoka’s response was to moan right into your ear in an undulating, rising pitch that went straight to your cunt. It fluttered and clamped down around him, a warning tremor rippling through your body, and you wheezed. 

It still wasn’t enough. 

“Hisoka …” You mewled, pressing your face into his shoulder. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

He issued a thoughtful sound and pressed a deceptively chaste kiss to the mark he’d worked into your neck. “How unfortunate. Though I might be persuaded to help if you say the magic words ...” 

Knowing it wasn’t ‘please’ he wanted to hear, you scoffed. He could be such a spoiled brat sometimes. “Fine. Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy many more.” 

The way he laughed made his cock twitch inside your pussy and you jerked, starting to pant more vigorously. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it? Although it didn’t exactly sound convincing coming out of your mouth, I suppose I’m willing to accept it.” 

You were about to tell him to shove it when Hisoka abruptly brought both arms around your back and pinned you flush to the front of him. It made your breasts squish against the firm expanse of his chest, the electrifying jolt of friction to your nipples sending fresh waves of pleasure shooting down your back. Sucking in a faltering inhale, you allowed your head to loll to the side where it was pressed up on his shoulder and you clutched at him all the more fervently, bracing for what would come next.

Even when you were expecting it, Hisoka managed to catch you off guard when he flexed up off the bottom of the tub and drove into you with enough force to have you shrieking in delight. Your whole body shook against his and you instinctively tried to push away with your knees, attempting to escape the blinding pressure he was exerting on your pulsing cunt. His hold on you was as good as iron though and you couldn’t find a reprieve, helplessly ragdolling in his arms as he started up a brutal pace that had water violently sloshing out over the sides of the tub. You probably would have been horrified by how much of the floor was soaked if you’d had the wherewithal to care about that sort of thing while you were getting your brains mercilessly fucked out but you were too far gone to give it more than a passing thought.

“Hii - Hiso - ka!” 

The thin chuckle that filtered over you was enough to make you claw at his shoulders, his back. Any part of him you could reach. You barely had enough time to draw a single, ragged breath before he was slamming back home and knocking you senseless again, your guts quaking under the intensity of his thrusts. The pressure inside you swelled almost nauseatingly fast, indescribably better than your own attempt at getting off which seemed pitiful in comparison to this. Hisoka was a force to be reckoned with in and out of the ring, and the strength in his slim build was never more apparent than when he was pounding into your cunt hard enough to make it throb. 

Uncontrollably shaking, you blindly dropped your hands from his scratched up back in favor of holding on to the edge of the tub in a white knuckled grip. You tried to use it as leverage to push your body upward and lessen the intensity of his hips driving into you, but it was useless. Hisoka merely tightened his arms around your back and forcibly yanked you down to meet the punishing thrusts tit for tat. You wailed, unable to do anything except sit there and take it while the rapidly mounting tension in your loins continued to build higher and higher, leaving you swaying dazedly in his grasp. 

“Ooh! God!”

“Is this what you needed, darling? A nice hard fuck to get you off? Hm?” 

Hisoka, unsurprisingly, didn’t have the grace to sound so much as a little out of breath and you wanted to hate him for that even as you threw your head back, eyes rolling in your skull. The reverberating clap of skin on skin was practically deafening and the sticky wet squelch of your pussy sloppily sucking him in deep on every jolting thrust only added to the lewd cacophony filling the space of the bathroom. It was overwhelming in the best possible way, indescribably more satisfying than anything else you’d experienced before, and you twisted in his arms like something wild. Something possessed. 

“I can feel that pretty little pussy of yours squeezing me like a vice grip.” Hisoka groaned, sultry and unbearably heavy. “Are you about to cum for me?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, held it, and the coil snapped. Every inch of your body rattled as if you’d been electrocuted, the full brunt of orgasm slamming into you like a sack of bricks. You went ramrod stiff against him and screamed out your pleasure as he fucked you right through it, the pace of his thrusts not faltering for so much as a second. Hisoka enthusiastically moaned underneath you each time your palpitating cunt squeezed down around him, sounding like some wanton whore, but you were no better yourself. The two of you made quite the pair.

Your throat was raw and scratchy by the time you finally started to come down some moments later one convulsing tremor at a time. It was only when you began whimpering in high strung, oversensitized distress that he slowed down, though he didn’t stop altogether. Hisoka’s cock was sliding easily in and out of your thrumming cunt now and you could feel what a churning mess he’d made of you with every taunting push of his hips, the goopy consistency making embarrassingly loud sucking noises. Seething, you put shaking hands on his chest and pushed back to look at him imploringly.

“Hisokaaa …” You mewled, breath hitching when he brushed against the dense cluster of pulsating nerves from a different angle in this position. 

“Don’t tell me you’re ready to tap out already.” He purred and hungrily licked his lips. “That was only round one and it is my birthday, you know. That means you have to keep going until I’m satisfied.” 

You issued a frazzled groan into the statically charged air, deciding once and for all that this man was going to be the death of you. The fleeting thought that you’d die happy, at least, didn’t serve as much of a comfort.

[nethandrake]

Blood In The Water

stevethortony. mcu. rated t. 1.8k words.

based on this fanart i commissioned from​ @justlous-art

also on ao3.

*****

Press conferences, in Clint’s opinion, are one of the worst things he has to experience.

Every time the Avengers has to host one (which is usually almost every fucking week), it’s always the same old reporters throwing accusations, the same old debates being tosses around, the same old headaches and boredom creeping into his mind. They always end with everyone in a shitty mood.

The only upside Clint could see is that he only needs to speak up if a question’s directed his way. Otherwise, it’d be their co-leaders’ job to fend the wolves off.

Their co-leaders who are currently and unfortunately answering another stupid question from the press.

“Yes, Stark Industries will be footing the bill,” Steve says tiredly.

“We always do,” Tony chimes in. “Now, you with the green-striped tie. You’re up.”

The journalist in question straightens, fixing his tie. Clint doesn’t remember seeing him at any of the conferences but he looks awfully familiar.

“He’s from Fox News,” Natasha supplies next to Clint.

It takes everything in Clint to not bash his smash his face against the conference table. “Shit.”

“Shit indeed.”

“It is no secret that Mr Stark is, to put it lightly,” Fox Man begins, his reedy voice making Clint’s skin crawl, “promiscuous—”

“What does this have to do with the giant squid we took down?” Steve interrupts.

“—and have been known to get into relationships with men, women—”

“What is the point of this?” Thor cuts in, his cool demeanor now turned irritated. “We are deviating from the—”

“My question to you, Captain,” Fox Man continues, unperturbed, “is, what are your thoughts regarding Mr Stark and Mr Odinson’s…relationship?”

Tony stills as murmurs begin to fill the room. Pepper immediately whips her tablet out.

It’s not the first time Clint’s heard of rumors of the Avengers dating amongst themselves but it’s never been brought up during their press conferences.

First time for everything, he supposes.

Thor jumps to his feet, slamming his hands on the table. Outside, thunder crackles.

“You dare—”

Steve isn’t doing much better to rein his temper in, leaning forward with a dangerous glint behind his eyes. “I’d be careful with what you say next. Rumors of the Avengers fraternizing isn’t new so—”

“Oh, this isn’t just a rumor,” Fox Man says coolly. He jumps to his feet, holding out his phone. “I happen to have…proof.”

In a flash, Happy strides over, most likely to block the man’s path like the good Head of Security he is. Steve waves him off, beckoning for the device to be handed over to Clint.

On the phone is a picture of Thor and Tony kissing in a dimly lit alleyway. Or at least, men who are supposedly Thor and Tony. It’s hard to tell since the quality’s crap.

Then again, they’re both bathed in a soft blue glow. A soft blue glow that Clint’s come to associate with the arc reactor.

“That isn’t photoshopped,” Fox Man claims. “If you swipe left, you’ll find a video.”

True enough, there is one of Thor pushing Tony against the wall and god, that’s so gross. Who knows what’s on that wall—

Natasha snatches the phone out of Clint’s grasp, giving it a long once-over.

“Thoughts?” Clint murmurs.

“It looks authentic,” she admits.

Well, then. Fuck.

When the phone ends up in Steve’s grasp, Clint swears cracks form on the screen.

“I would like to know if there have been…issues between you and Mr Stark,” Fox Man continues like the oblivious idiot he is. Clint’s ready to reach pluck an arrow from his quiver and pin the asshole to a wall. “You come from a different time, a time where traditional and wholesome American values are valued. Mr Stark isn’t known for possessing such values. And it is widely known that you and Mr Stark did not get along. And with this…alien—”

“I get it,” Steve growls. It’s been a while since Clint’s seen in this furious. He looks ready to pounce, if Tony hasn’t stilled him in place.

Steve’s features meld into something soft, a look that Clint’s privately coined as the ‘Tony Look’. Oddly, it’s the same look he flashes Thor. The three of them trade glances, glances that only a super soldier, a god, and a genius would know. Tony’s lips curl into a reassured smirk. The other follow suit.

Clint wonders if that’s how Natasha and him are like. Because damn, he gets why people think it’s eerie.

“First of all, let me be clear about this,” Steve begins, “I will not let you or anyone disrespect my friends like that ever again. This is a warning to the rest of you all as well. You, however, I’ll make sure you’ll be banned from the next conference. And don’t think I won’t remember your face. Because I will. I have a good memory. As for your question, I don’t have anything to say about that. But I do have something to show you.”

Without hesitation, Steve leans over to capture Tony’s lips in his.

Clint would’ve toppled over if Natasha hadn’t steadied his chair.

“That’s…”

“Bold?”

“I was gonna say unexpected,” Clint says. “But yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”

It’s an open secret among the Avengers that Steve and Thor have been hopelessly pining for Tony for months, even going so far as trying to outdo each other with their efforts of wooing Tony.

Judging by the way Tony’s cupping Steve’s face as they make out and the shit-eating grin Thor has plastered on as he saunters over to the two, it seems like they’ve come to a mutual agreement. A silent mutual agreement.

How the fuck did this escape the rest of their notice? Of Clint’s notice? Steve and Thor are two of the least subtle people around. The fact that they and Tony could keep their relationship on the downlow is blowing Clint’s mind.

Steve and Tony part with a quiet smack. Tony turns in his seat to fist Thor’s shirt to give his own kiss.

“I think my brain’s short-circuiting.”

Natasha scoffs. “You’re acting as if you’ve never seen two men kiss in your life.”

“Well, I’ve never seen my friends kiss each other,” Clint hisses. “You gotta cut me some slack here. I mean, look at Bruce.”

“Bruce looks fine.”

“His eyebrows look like they’re gonna climb off his forehead.”

Steve’s cheeks are flaming red when he shyly turns back to the stunned crowd in front of him. His expression quickly turns icy when he meets Fox Man’s eyes, who looks torn between hiding in a hole or lighting the rest of them on fire.

“Does that answer your question?” he challenges. “Or do you need me to give you another demonstration?”

Thor doesn’t let Fox Man reply, smirking as he inches over to Steve. “I dare say we have not finished his question, my love.”

And with that, he seals Steve’s lips with his.

Clint almost passes out.

“Okay,” Natasha says. “Now, that? That I didn’t see coming.”

Tony’s all smiles as he watches his boyfriends (boyfriends!!!!!) make out in front of everyone. It’s the smuggest and proudest he’s ever seen him.

“Suck it,” he says into the microphone, casually flipping off Fox Man, who looks like he’s ready to explode.

For some unexplainable reason, the rest of the journalists zero in on Clint after that.

“Don’t look at me,” he says, hands held high. “I ain’t kissing them.”

Natasha smirks. Bruce covers his grin behind his sleeve.

Out of the corner of Clint’s eyes, Pepper rubs her temples and pops a pill.

*****

The next day, Clint and the rest of the Avengers pile into one of the stuffy conference rooms on the helicarrier because according to Tony, ‘Eye Patch is in the mood to ream their asses’. Which is so, so unfair since Clint wasn’t the one who made out with his boyfriends in front of the press. Why the hell did he need to face Fury’s wrath when he wasn’t the one to out himself to the press?

Much to no one’s surprise, said boyfriends don’t show up.

Fury’s scowl is much more steely than usual when he storms in, slamming a newspaper onto the table.

Emblazoned on the front page is a picture of Tony flipping the camera as Steve and Thor make out in the background. Avengers: Gay Orgy?!, its heading screams.

“Is there something you people wanna tell me?” Fury begins icily.

“There is no orgy going on between the six of us,” Natasha immediately answers.

“Or five,” Bruce adds.

Clint nods his head, gesturing towards the newspaper. “Yup, yup. The only Avengers having an orgy are them.”

Fury raises an eyebrow. “And what the hell do you call this, then?”

“A threesome,” Natasha replies.

Clint frowns at her. “But that’s not even a threesome. They weren’t even having sex.”

“Threesome could mean three people as a group,” Bruce offers.

“Ah.”

“Speaking of threesomes, where the hell are Stark and—”

A resounding crash cuts Fury off, jolting everyone in their seats.

Everyone hustles out and makes a beeline for the conference room next door. Clint gets into position, readying himself to let his arrow fly.

He expects AIM beekeepers, HYDRA goons, or even Doombots. Instead, they’re greeted by the sight of the conference table cracked, the room in disarray, and the other half of the Avengers in a tangle of limbs.

Tony has sandwiched himself between his boyfriends as he sucks the soul out of Steve. Next to them, Thor glances up at Clint and the rest, beaming and flashing them a thumbs-up before Tony drags him into a kiss.

Clint’s going to need bleach for his eyes when he gets home.

“Are you sure the squid didn’t spray them with sex pollen or something?” he begins tentatively.

“Nope,” Bruce replies. “We got checked over, remember?”

“Twice,” Natasha adds.

Steve has the decency to look ashamed when he catches sight of them. He pries his boyfriends apart before jumping to his feet in haste. “Director! I– We were just—”

“Late,” Tony continues for him. “Sorry about that but—”

“We were distracted,” Thor declares.

“I’ll pay for everything,” Tony adds.

Fury looks absolutely murderous.

Clint clasps his hands. “Well! I think it’s safe to say that we all need a break. Or bleach. How about we adjourn this meeting for a while and—”

“Three of you are dismissed. But you three,” Fury jabs his fingers at Steve, Thor, and Tony in turn, “stay. We need to talk.”

Steve’s cheeks darken. Thor puffs his chest. Tony grins lazily. Their hair is disarray, their clothes wrinkled, their lips red and puffy and— Clint is not going to think about that. Nope. Not at all. Not if he wants to sleep at night.

Natasha immediately makes a beeline for the door. Bruce wipes his glasses with his shirt, following after her.

Out of the corner of Clint’s eyes, Fury rubs his temples and pops a pill.

*****

True to his word, Tony ends up paying for all the damages incurred on the helicarrier. All twenty thousand dollars’ worth of damages.

Clint couldn’t look at Conference Room Three the same way ever again.

*****

also on ao3.

[quietmyfearswith]

new year’s day ; andy barber x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 3,960 words

warnings — swearing, mentions of active sex life, SMUT, degradation, sir kink, choking, oral smut (receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (pls use protection), slapping, name calling, drinking champagne off of one’s body, fluff at the end?? porn without plot lol

pairing — andy barber x fem!reader

a/n — HAPPY NEW YEAR! im still high on my andy feels so yeah,, lmk what yoou think!

masterlist

“Fuckin’ hell my eyes hurt,” Y/N groaned out as she rubbed her palms on her eyelids, as if she was massaging the stress away. Rose could only chuckle at her friend’s distress, “Well I did warn you about how you shouldn't have gone to work today; you deserve to take a break once in a while you know?”

Cracking her knuckles once she was done rubbing her eyes, Y/N retorted, “Well it’s not like I had any New Year’s Eve plans so I decided why not go to work?” As she continued to torment her eyes with the light emitted from her desktop. Being her only real friend at the workplace, Rose took it as a responsibility to look after her; for she knew how she wasn’t really close with her family and her other closest friends were on the different side of the country. “Hey, I invited you to that party me and Agnes are going to!”

Tearing her straining eyes away from the screen, Y/N gave the brunette a pointed look, “You mean to say you invited me to party where I don’t know anyone but you and your girlfriend; which definitely guarantees that you’ll both leave me alone so you can fuck.”

Rose didn’t find it in herself to deny her allegation or defend her and her girlfriend’s active sex life; instead she could only give her a sheepish look as she joked, “Guess you’ve been spending too much time with Mr. Barber since you’re incredible at drawing conclusions and noticing patterns huh?” Seeing how much time she had spent with the mentioned lawyer over the past year, Y/N couldn’t help but nod and agree with her.

The soft chime of Rose's Favorite song rang and a cocky, “See! Can’t even wait an hour before you two get to be together,” was quickly being hushed by her friend. “Okay you have a point, we have a high sex drive — but can you blame us? And I need to leave early, stupid bitch burnt herself as she was baking.”

Chuckling without tearing her eyes away from the documents in front of her, Y/N greeted, “Yeah, yeah; don’t need to rub it in. Happy New Year’s Eve, babe.” Before heading to Mr. Barber’s office to sweetly ask to leave early, Rose went to where Y/N was seated and let their cheeks touch as their way of bidding adieu.

Andy was more than generous to allow Rose to leave the office early, “Go ahead and enjoy, you deserve it for being one of the few ones who chose to come in today,” He told her smiling form. Once she left his office, he loosened his tie and undid the top button of his button down shirt and let out a loud groan. Usually, this time last year he would be rushing to go home — if ever his work demanded his presence — in order to celebrate the New Year’s with his family. But now as he mourns the family he once had and lost it as his son was brutally killed by his ex-wife that had gone insane in disbelieving her son’s innocence was now serving prison for her crimes, he had nowhere to be.

After a couple of hours filled with silence and burying his head with paperwork, Andy noticed how there was a soft, melodious hymn coming from the other side of the office. The lawyer wasn’t necessarily alarmed, but he was curious about who was left working since there had only been 7 other people who decided to come in to work today; and to his knowledge they should have left by now.

He decided to check out who was left — but it really was an excuse to stretch his long, lean legs as he felt them cramping up a bit from being seated for too long — and was surprised to see the most diligent employee he’s ever met in his years of practicing law, “Ms. Y/N, what are you still doing here?”

Hearing his deep voice snapped her out of her concentration; seeing her boss in his less than organized state had her taken aback, “Oh Mr. Barber, I’m just doing some work on the Richards case.” Looking at the watch on his left wrist, he took note how it was a mere 15 minutes before the new year dawned on them. “No plans for the new year then?”

Deciding to test the waters she cracked a joke, “Are you talking about the holiday or the actual year? Because I have no plans for both.”Covering up her remark with a nervous chuckle, she was glad to see the older man wrinkle his eyes as he laughed out loud, “Well that makes the two of us; why don’t we grab a drink in my office?”

Eyes going wide and gasping silently, Y/N was pleasantly surprised at his offer but nevertheless nodded in agreement. Quickly shutting off her desktop, she moved out of her chair and decided to leave her footwear and floral kimono by her desk as she somewhat felt restricted by the light cloth. As she entered his post, she settled herself on the gray sofa he had placed near the office’s wall. Grabbing a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses, Andy sat beside her then poured them a drink.

“Never pegged you as a champagne guy, Mr. Barber,” She thanked him as he handed her a glass which she took a sip of; letting out a small moan of appreciation at the taste, the  sound causing Andy to cross his right leg on top of the left in an effort to conceal his erection. “Please, call me Andy,” He cleared his throat as he took a sip of the liquor, “And whiskey and bourbon are my usual choices of poison; but since it’s the New Year, figured this was more appropriate.”

Y/N surprised the man beside her by drinking all of the champagne in one go and placed the now empty glass on the coffee table in front of them before turning to his gobsmacked expression and giggled, “Sorry, really need that one.” With his hooded eyes watching her intently, he drank some of his before answering, “Don’t be Y/N, it was quite a show.”

She could feel her wetness dampen the panties she wore with how good her name sounded as it left his lips, “Don’t think I ever heard you call me by my first name before.” Worried he crossed the line he was quick to fumble out an apology; but quickly stopped as he felt her hand on his thigh, “It’s okay, I’m not mad or anything. I really like it, actually,” She trailed off once she noticed how he seemed to have let out a quiet, but aroused purr. Tilting her head to the side with an amused expression plastered on her face, “You alright, Andy?”

Years of practicing law and appearing in courtrooms taught him not to lose composure; but with a simple touch and mention of his name had Andy forgetting how to remain calm and collected. But can you fucking blame him when the girl who walks around with so much grace and confidence — who also happens to be the subject of his filthy fantasies — is so close to him that he can almost feel her warmth piercing through his long-sleeved shirt. In that moment, he wasn’t sure if it was a wise or dumb decision to discard his suit jacket, but as their arms touched and he felt a surge of electricity run through his veins, he thought of himself as a fucking genius.

“I am, yeah,” Deciding to test the waters, he grabbed her hand that rested on her thigh and intertwined their fingers together; when she made no attempts at removing her hand from his he smirked, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but something tells me you want more than just this champagne I offered.”

Feeling her inhibitions disappear, she gave him a smirk of her own as she untangled her hands from his, “Well, I do want some more champagne,” Her finger was now tracing his lips as she moved to sit closer until she was now straddling his lap, “Maybe taste it from your lips?”

Silently, Andy brought the glass to his lips and downed the remaining sparkling drink; his free hand settled itself on the back of her neck, pulling her close to him until her lips touched his. As he bit her bottom lip, she opened her mouth and moaned out loud as she felt the alcoholic beverage enter her mouth. Both her hands caressed his bearded cheek as she drank up every last drop that he offered her. Groaning out loud when his mouth was now devoid of the drink, he let his tongue enter her mouth and asserted his dominance; something she willingly conceded to him. His hand on her neck traveled lower and rested on her bum, squeezing the soft flesh which emitted more moans from her.

“Been dreaming about this for so long,” His staff silently, mindlessly let out as she kissed him desperately. “Is that so?” He asked once he broke away their kiss, Y/N whined at the loss of his lips and confused with his question. Chuckling at her groggy state he squeezed both her cheeks with one hand, forcing her to focus on him and answer his question, “You said you’ve been dreaming about this, baby. Is that what you daydream about at work? Me fucking you so hard your dumb brain can’t even think straight?”

Letting out a pathetic whine, she could only nod her head enthusiastically, “Want that so fucking bad, sir.” He felt his cock harden even more at the title she called him; but he wasn’t even done with teasing her yet. “And that fantasy will come true; but first, stand up and strip for me, baby,” With a soft smack on her cheek, she stood up quickly and unzipped her dress. Andy watched her present her body for him as he poured another glass for himself.

Resting on the arm rest was the hand with the sparkling champagne, while the other was palming his erection as watched her push her dress down to the floor. “No bra? Just that poor excuse of underwear?” He moaned out as he observed the fabric that parts at the middle, teasing the paradise that awaits for his cock.

Lowering her gaze, as if bashful, at his filthy remarks before resuming her previous position of sitting on his lap with her hands moving to unbutton his button down. “Such an impatient little thing, aren’t you?” He clicked his tongue at her; to which she pouted as she stared at him with want written on her face, “I’m sorry, sir. What do you want me to do?”

“Ride my thigh like the slut you are, baby,” He commanded her without even thinking about it, which turned her on even more. Situating herself on his thick, lean thigh she moaned out loud as the fabric of her thong added even more friction. She began to ride him with slow but sharp movements, throwing her head back when she felt her wetness taint the fabric of his slacks, “How does it feel, baby?”

“Good, so good,” Her broken cries turned him on even more as he sipped on the champagne, enjoying the tingle it left on his tongue. “Do you trust me, baby?” Surprised at his question, she opened her eyes to look at him, her hip movements not faltering one bit. Upon seeing how serious he was she answered, “I do, Andy. I trust you.”

With a smirk, he then tipped the glass just above her breasts, allowing the liquid to run from her collarbones and down to her breasts. Gasping out loud when Andy runs his tongue on her skin, following the trail that the champagne took, “Don’t stop grinding on me, love,” He reminded her as his lips drank the liquid that landed on her nipple — subsequently sucking on the pebble-like flesh. Seeking purchase on his dark hair, Y/N continued rubbing herself on his thigh — his assault on her breast encouraging her to ride him even harder and faster.

“Time to drink some more,” Andy huskily spoke out as he poured some more of the beverage on her opposite breast  causing the girl to stiffen a bit as she was taken aback by the sudden coolness on her breast. His tongue flattened against her skin, now more focused on kissing every inch of her skin instead of drinking up the liquor. His hand held her breast firmly, raising it a bit so he could suck on it and slurp the booze.

“Fuck, the champagne tastes even incredible on you, baby,” HIid praise got her flustered and she could only whine as she felt herself getting closer. “I’m so close, sir. Can I cum, please?” She fluttered her eyes at him sweetly, hoping he’d show her mercy; but his wicked smile and wink got her thinking she’d be shown the opposite of it. “Not yet, baby,” He was quick to shut her wails up with a smack on her breast, “Sit down on the sofa, baby.”

Even though she denied him her release, she followed his orders without a complaint — working with him provided her a clear picture of what happens when you don’t follow Andy’s orders, and it didn’t end well for everyone involved. As she sat down, she watched as the lawyer placed his glass on the table and reached for the bottle; poured some on her pussy. Y/N watched closely as Andy licked her clit, down to her hole. Without tearing his eyes away from hers, he inserted his tongue in her and tried to reach as far as his long tongue can go. “So good, Andy,” She grabbed onto his hair, pushing his face closer to her. The man was quick to smack her thigh, causing her to press her thighs more into his frame, “You know what to call me,” He warned.

“Sir,” She panted out, “Feel so good, sir.” Pleased with that, he rewarded her by rubbing his right thumb on her clit, making her moan even louder. Loving her blissed out sounds of pleasure, Andy began licking her ferociously; he drank up all of the champagne he poured and all the juices she had to provide. He inserted his left pointer and middle finger in her, taking her aback with the sudden simulation. Her thighs were shaking with how good he was making her feel, too weak to even grab onto his hair and her arms were now limp on her sides, “Sir, please! I’m so fucking close, please let me cum.”

Without tearing his mouth and hands from her he replied, “Then cum on my fucking tongue, you slut,” The vibrations adding more to the pleasure she felt. After a few more thrusts of his fingers, kitten licks of his tongue, she felt apart with a scream. Her thighs wrapped themselves around his shoulders, squeezing him so tight that she felt his beard tickle her delicate skin. Andy pulled out his fingers that were in her, replacing them with his tongue so he can gather all of her juices and drink some of them in. “You taste like fucking heaven, baby,” He groaned as he parted from her pussy, his fingers pushing her juices back inside her so he could use it as lube.

“Wanna kiss you, sir,” Her fingers touched the patch of facial hair above his lips, surprised with how it had her juices. Andy complied, giving her a brief, but sweet kiss. “Want you on your hands and knees, baby. Hold on to the back of the sofa okay?” Y/N couldn’t help but feel mushy with how gentle he was bossing her around — when she knew his next actions would be far from gentle.

Holding on to the back of the sofa, she used it to steady herself on her knees, bending slightly so she could arch her back to accentuate her ass. Andy quickly discarded his clothes before rubbing her pussy again and pushed some of her juices in, before entering in her pussy in one go. His forehead rested on her back as he groaned out, “Fuck baby you’re so tight. Been a while huh?” Anchoring himself on her hips, he slid in and out of her at a steady pace.

Y/N moaned out loud as she felt the back of her thighs meet Andy’s hips; he was thrusting into her with no remorse. Her hand travelled to her breast, switching between pinching the nipple or pulling on it. Grabbing her hair with one hand, the bearded man pulled her so her back was pressed firmly against his chest. You’d think that this would give Andy a difficult time to rut into her but it didn’t; instead it just made him drive his cock in her harder and faster, falling into a drum-like rhythm.

“Why are you fucking touching yourself, slut?” Feeling his breath on her ear turned her on more than she cared to admit and she couldn’t even string together a coherent response since the tip of his dick pushed into her g-spot, causing her to moan out loud. “You’re such a fucking mess that you can’t even think straight huh?”

Nodding pathetically was all the response Y/N could offer as she clawed on to Andy’s toned arms; the lawyer then decided to go all the way with his fun by wrapping his big hand around her neck, applying gentle pressure. “You don’t mind this do you, sweetheart?” Shaking her head no, Andy then smiled as he put more force on the sides of her neck as he rammed his cock in her until the tip of his cock repeatedly hit her bundle of nerves that made tears leave her eyes with how good everything felt. The other hand that wasn't wrapped around her throat then lowered itself on her clit, rubbing the hardened nub.

“If only you knew how hard you got me every time you came to work with a tight skirt or pants,” He breathed out against her ear, tickling her with his breath, “Giving me a perfect view of the shape of your ass,” And to emphasize his point he thrust so hard until his cock was all the way in and spanked her ass. “Walking around the office with so much fucking confidence,” He recalled the time wherein she called out an officemate for talking lewdly about her — that caused him to jerk one off in the office bathroom. “But now you’ve been reduced to a dumb cock hungry whore for me,” She wailed out in agreement as his hand squeezed her throat so tight to the point she was now gasping for breath as his other hand wrapped around her tit, loving the weight and feel of it on his hand, grabbing onto it to move it up and down his hand.

“Are you gonna cum again, baby? Gonna cum around my thick cock?” He could feel her walls clinging on to his cock even more, making it difficult to thrust in her but he was determined to keep on sliding his cock in and out. “Yes, so close, please let me cum,” She trailed off as he abandoned his hold on her tit and throat and returned to her hips so he could maneuver her and ram his cock swiftly and harder. “Cum then you, slut. Let me feel you milk my cock,” Was all the permission she needed before she dug her nails into his forearms as came with a scream, “Thank you, sir!”

Even as she was cumming, Andy thrust in and out of her; though his thrusts weren’t as powerful and quick. Once he felt her spasms die down, he slid all the way inside her and came with a groan. They both could feel his cock twitch as it released his load inside her, filling her up with his hot semen. Littering kisses on her back, Andy could feel his regular breathing return — as was hers.

Carefully, Andy pulled out of her, “Can you stand up for a bit, baby?” She nodded and stood up from her position, the lawyer guiding her to sit by the arm rests. Still stuck in her post-orgasm haze, she watched as he moved the coffee table away and transformed his sofa into a bed. Grabbing the spare bed sheet, blanket, and pillows he kept in the office — in case he had to spend the night in the office — he quickly made the bed before he helped Y/N to lay down with him, wrapping the blanket over their naked bodies.

“How you feeling?” It was amazing how he had a quick change of demeanor; Y/N was lazily tracing over Andy’s face with her finger, making the most out of this intimate moment. “Feel good, really good. Always wanted someone to fuck me the way you did.”

Her curt response had him chuckling, loving the way she was being open with him and the way she traced over his features. “Well I’m glad I fulfilled this fantasy of yours.”

Suddenly, Y/N felt small and insecure; was this a one time thing? Just something to release his frustrations and a fantasy of hers that's been fulfilled? Furrowing her eyebrows, she failed to mask her worry as she wondered, “So this is just a one time thing then?”

Hating what she just said, Andy kissed the wrinkle in between her eyebrows as he spoke, “I don’t want it to be. I really want to be with you; if you’ll have me, of course.” A small smile rested on her lips as her eyes brightened up, “I’d want that and you. You’re so amazing, Andy. I admire your strength, resilience, and determination. For someone who could easily give up in life you choose to carry on and look forward to what the future holds. It’s just a bonus that you have a thick cock and know how to use it.”

Her small speech had him chuckling and kissing her nose, pulling her close against him, “What I said earlier was true; I love how you walk around the office like you own the place. You take no shit from people and do your job damn well. Plus, I love your music taste as well.”

Grinning at him she jeered, “Wow can’t believe you still sweet talk your way even if it’s not in a courtroom setting.” Andy laughed at her retort and just grazed his fingertips on her sides, tickling her so he can hear her giggle. Once both their laughter died down, their lips met for a sweet, passionate kiss. “We have quite a mess to clean up tomorrow, Andy,” Y/N reminded him as she referred to the champagne bottle, glasses, their clothes, and his sofa bed — their whole situation, really.

“I don’t care,” He whispered as smiled at her, feeling so much lighter and better having been haunted by his personal demons for so long, “I don’t mind doing anything as long as it’s with you.”

Her heart fluttered with his simple statement; she was then reminded of the new year countdown. Reaching out for his wrist, she checked the time and noticed how a few minutes had passed 12. “Happy new year, Andy,” She greeted him with a peck on his lips.

A short, sweet kiss was returned to her as he planted his lips on hers again — quickly getting addicted to her, “Happy new year, baby. Can’t wait to spend this year with you by my side.”

[elysianightsss]

It’s Just Business - one

Werewolf Steve Rodgers x reader series

Warnings for the series: fluffness, Bucky and Sam bickering like five year olds, smutty smut, bad language.

Part two

“Buck, I can feel her here.” Steve spoke, his figure frozen as his wolf tried clawing his way out. Fighting to find it’s mate.

“The only people here are the servants.” His beta replied patting his shoulder. “She’ll reveal herself soon enough.”

“Dinner is served.” An old man dressed in a penguin suit said poshly dragging out each syllable. Everyone gathered around the table taking their seats.

The woman of the house whispered something to the older looking maid, though to everyone else except her husband, they all heard it as though she shouted it.

“Get my daughter down here.” The maid scurried off and the woman plastered a fake smile upon her face. A few moments of waiting later, a sweet scent of vanilla, old books and rain filled Steve’s nostrils.

I walked into the dining room my hair swaying behind me, my outfit was too revealing for my mother’s taste, I could see it in her eyes when I walked in, but I suppose that’s why I wore it. Just to see her pissed off expression, it gave me a giddy feeling inside. Flashing a smile to the participants of tonight’s show. I couldn’t wait to see how my parent’s had planned to brag today.

“I apologise for being late.” I spoke clearly, sitting down at the end of the table, opposite to my father who gave me a small nod. I returned the gesture. Food was placed in front of me and my stomach lurched at the fancy pancy sustenance.

“Would so kill for a burger.” I grumbled quietly, but a muffled snort had me looking at a brunette. He wore his hair in a low man bun, his blue eyes deep. His black shirt suited the dark demeanour he held. Blinking away from our locked gazes, I tuned into the shrill sound of my mother’s voice as she conversed with their wonderful benefactors.

That’s who this meal was for. My father, the Mayor, had only a small handful of people he trusted his affairs to. The three people sat at this dining table were some of them. They gave my father his protection against politisions that might try and weave their way into his office. The three men lead an organisation that I wanted to stay far away from, one that snuck inside other organisations and gained power from knowing their secrets.

The other two groups of people gave my father his money and his immunity to do whatever he wanted to people and get away with it. It wasn’t that my father was a bad man, he had just done certain things to get where he was now. Certain things that gave him his status as Mayor, that gave him his money, that gave him all the secrets that filled his pockets.

My parent’s invite their benefactors over for dinner frequently but I always avoided them, with the excuse of studying or extra curricular activities. However this one I couldn’t get out of, I didn’t think of an excuse quick enough. Was too tired that day and now I had to munch on leafy soup instead of my usual burger and fries from my favourite diner.

I took the chance to look around at the other two men. One was a man who I’d actually met before, once at my Father’s office. His name was Sam, he was kind and funny. Made the meeting we had to sit through bearable with his jokes and the gift of sharing my sarcastic language. His dark purple shirt made him look some what posh, though the bored look in his eyes could of made me laugh until my stomach hurt.

The third man was absolutely gorgeous. He was the kind of man I wanted. All rugged and lumberjack like. His dirty blonde hair slightly overgrown, but not enough to be able to tie it back like the brunette. His beard had me clenching my legs together at the thought of beard burn on my thighs. Damn. How can someone be so hot? I didn’t know it was physically possible for a shirt to stretch that much. The dark blue material was clinging to his body for dear life, trying desperately not to break as he moved his arm up and down gulping down the green soup.

It seemed he was trying to eat it quickly, almost getting it over and done with. Better than having to endure the rath of my mother for refusing her ‘finest’ chef’s qu’usine. He seemed to noticed me staring at him but ignored it. His eyes were blue, they reminded me of the ocean. There was something reassuring about it.

“Miss Alexandra,” I looked to my left to see Martha my personal maid, “there’s a very important call for you.” She could hardly contain her excitement, too loud that everyone heard what she said. I glanced towards my mother who nodded, instantly I was out of my seat practically jogging to answer the phone.

“Hello?” I spoke, cringing at the eagerness in my tone.

“Miss. Culling?”

“Yes this is she.”

“This is Townsend University calling about your application for a scholarship. We wanted to let you know personally that we are declining your application. We’re very sorry.” The woman sounded as if she could care less.

“Can I ask the reason why?” My lip quivered making me bite down on it hard.

“You simply have too much money Miss. Culling. I’m sure your parents can help you in securing a place here. Other than that we have no other way to help you, I apologise. Have a good evening.” She hung up after spouting her bitter train of thought.

My breath came out shaky matching my unsteady hand as I placed the phone down. Covering my mouth to stop any sobs from escaping.

“Oh my dear.” Martha wrapped her arms around my shoulders stroking a wrinkled hand through my straightened hair. “Maybe you should call your brother. Not the silly whipper snapper but the golden troublemaker.” She chuckled at the thought of the boys she basically raised. She was right.

“Little sister to what do I owe the honour?”

“Townsend University rejected me.” I fought the tears that wanted nothing more but to ruin the mascara I’d put on earlier this evening.

“Oh Alexandra. I’m so sorry. Did they say why?”

“Our parent’s money. Same as the others. How did you do it Bash?” My foot tapped against the hard wood floor waiting impatiently for some kind of way to fix my problem.

“Back when I was completing mother and father’s task, colleges only cared about having someone of title on their campus to get a higher status. Now all they care about is money.” He scoffed.

“I don’t have any other options left. Bash what do I do?” I begged him to tell me.

“Why don’t you come here for a few days? You can relax while I think of a plan. Get you out of that retched house.” I heard him flipping through a book and I knew it was his calendar.

“Are you sure Lara won’t mind?” I inquired after his pregnant wife.

“Never she adores you, you know that. Just get through the evening little sister and I’ll have a car come pick you up.” He hummed through the phone.

“Thankyou brother.” I hung up and took a series of deep breaths. I sighed making my way back inside the room.

“Who was it my dear?” Mother asked with a slight glare that if anyone else saw it, they’d assume it was motherly concern. I was not anyone else.

“Bash called.” I replied sitting down next to the lumberjack who’s eyes burned a whole in my head.

“Oh our eldest son, he is a delight.” My mother chirped.

“Isn’t he just.” I quipped under my breath. I loved my brother dearly but I couldn’t help but be slightly jealous of the affection he gained from both my parents when I had none.

“I’m staying there for a few days before finals start.” I smiled at her. She seemed to think it over for a moment before glancing at my father.

“I think it’s a good idea.” He shrugged and went back to whatever they were talking about before I came back in.

Soon dinner was over, it took far too long for my liking. My father and his benefactors retired to his office for a while. My mother on the phone to one of her stupid friends bitching about something I didn’t care to listen to. I just wanted this evening to be over.

“Miss, your father would like a word.” Omg did he know already? Did he find out I had failed? No! He couldn’t! He promised to stay out of it until the end of the year. Wiping my sweating hands on my jumpsuit, I knocked on the office door and went in.

My Father’s office wasn’t too big or too small. The double doors I stepped through were made from a dark wood like everything else. There were books covering every inch of the right wall and a window on the left one. In the middle was a big desk my stoic parent sat at. The three men scattered around the room. The brunette sat at the windowsill. The blonde stood leaning against the bookshelf. And Sam sat in the left of the two chairs sitting opposite my fathers desk. I took the right and waited expectantly.

“You’re going to stay with Steve here until the end of summer.” He gestured to the blonde from earlier. Steve Rodgers. That was it? That’s all my father had to stay.

“Why?” I wouldn’t usually question my father but something in me pushed to ask. I had a right to know.

“I said you’d be sent somewhere this year for your survival skills and this is it. Anything could happen at any moment. You could be kidnapped or this very house could be held hostage. I have be sure I’m not worrying about you in case that happens. I need to know that I can focus of the business side of it not emotion.” He grunted. As if he had any emotions at all.

“The end of summer...starting when?” My nails dug into my palms, I started to feel so angry. I was eighteen years old for Christ sake and he was sending me away like he did when I was a child to summer camps so he didn’t have to deal with me.

“After you come back from your brother‘s house.” Suddenly I never wanted to come back from Bash’s house.

“But that’s eight months.” I sputtered, this was ridiculous. He was sending me away for almost a year give or take a few months.

“You dare question me in my own home?” He leaned forward on his desk glaring me down. I had glared back before and had faced the consequences. Not this time.

“No father. I’ll start packing the second I’m home.” I lowered my head.

“Good. Now get out.” I didn’t need to be told twice. The moment the door closed behind me I ran to my room pulling a bag out from my closet, packing what I’d need for a few days away and leaving without a goodbye. The car was already waiting for me just as Bash had promised.

“Thank. You. Bash.” I grinned getting inside the black car and telling the driver to step on it. Thoughts plagued my mind while I gazed out the window at the big trees.

Why was I being sent away? Why so long? Why didn’t my parents love me enough to want me to stay? Was it my fathers idea? How the fuck was I going to make a plan to complete my parent’s task if I’m up in the forest? Was it the forest or mountains? Or both?

But the question I didn’t expect my mind to conjure up left me slapping my hand against my head to pushed it away.

Was I going to enjoy living with the big sexy lumberjack called Steve?

[hotchley]

that’s when i could finally breathe

Me: oh yeah, I am definitely going on a fanfic writing break. Also me: this. 

As always, I have no idea what I’ve done. I really was taking a break, but then I was listening to Clean and... this happened. All of my pieces have been weirdly cathartic, and I think this one was just like: HAHA PROJECTION!!

I also did not proofread this, and wrote it in one day, so... do with that what you will :) 

Also, do not comment on my inability to come up with decent titles. I know. I know this is a terrible title, but I HAD NO BETTER IDEAS OKAY!!!

Word Count: 2289

Trigger Warnings: child abuse, funerals, death, past suicidal thoughts, grief, self-destructive behaviour (Hotch does not pull his hair out, but he does have thoughts about doing so)

read on ao3!

He has always found a sense of peace in the rain.

Where other people would run to try and find shelter, Aaron has always loved to just stand and let it soak through his clothes to his skin, chilling his bones and body. Haley had found it endearing as a teenager. 

As an adult, it had concerned her.

He could tell her it was nothing till he was blue in the face, but there was a sense of panic that came with looking out the window to see the clouds weeping, combined with her husband’s lack of presence in their apartment.

More than once, he would come home, shivering and teeth chattering, but smiling. She would force him to change, to wrap himself in a blanket, but he would usually be too dazed to do so without her assistance. He caught a cold more than once.

Jack has inherited his love for the rain. His love, like everything else about him, is childish and innocent though. A love for jumping in puddles and splashing his parents. A fascination with the different types of weather, and a love for the yellow coat that has a duck on the hood that was a gift from Penelope.

Aaron’s love for the rain can be described in one word. The same word Haley has always used to describe the way he loves everything. His love for the rain is complex. It is born from the best and worst moments of his life.

His love for the rain comes from the little boy that wore his heart on his sleeve. Who wanted nothing more than to turn the terrible things that happened into a story, and who just wanted to use his brain to find a reason for all the bad things that seemed to keep happening.

It rained the day of his father’s funeral. His mother and Sean shared an umbrella. Haley tried to get him to stand under hers, but he refused, choosing to stand in it, letting it numb the fire in his stomach. He didn’t shed any tears at the funeral. He had already mourned the death of his father. He had mourned when he was eleven, and learnt that his father did not love him. Not in the way he was meant to. Not in a way that was right.

The rain made it look like he was crying. It soaked his hair and dripped onto the collar of his coat, and when his uncle drove him and the last people that knew the truth about Mr Hotchner, his mother seemed to realise what he had been doing. She chastised him, but it was weak and with no real threat.

Aaron would confess to Haley, months later, that the rain had made him feel like he was being listened to. Like the God he had stopped believing in believed his father was a bad man, and the rain had been to disrupt the final event where anyone would truly care for him. The rain made him feel like there was a happy ending at the end of the tunnel waiting for him.

It made him feel like he could breathe again.

When Haley kissed him for the first time, it was raining. They had been running home from their date, not expecting the summer night to turn out like that, and he had paused because of the stitch in his side. 

She had turned around, laughing hysterically because of course this had happened. Of course their first date, which she had spent hours preparing for, Jessica styling her hair and convincing her the dress she had picked was perfect, ended in rain. With her hair coming loose from the pins she had slid into it. With Aaron’s shirt plastered to his skin. If she had stepped close enough, she could almost see the scars on his back. 

She wouldn’t ask though. Not today. 

He looked at her, slightly apologetic, and she was once again struck by just how pretty he was. His eyelashes were longer than she had first realised, and the rain seemed to drip off of them in a way she had only ever seen in the movies.

His hair was an untamed mess. Her heart had dropped a little when he rang her doorbell, because she liked the chaos of his usual style, and seeing it without a hair out of place made her feel like he was trying to be a different person. The rain had ruined it all though, and it now fell onto his forehead and stuck to his face in a way she loved.

To everyone else in their little town, he likely looked like the villain. Like the demon creeping in through the window to steal the beautiful princess away to their terrible castle. But Haley is not everyone else. And to her, Aaron looks like the dashing prince, ready to save the heroine from the terrible prejudice of her home.

So when he opened his mouth, probably to ask her if everything was okay, she took a step forward, placed her hands on his cheeks and kissed him. It was messy and wet and awkward, but it was their first. And it was special.

Her cheeks were flushed when she pulled away. Aaron just stared at her for a few moments, something like panic written all over his face. But then that panic gave way to something else, and Haley felt like she was watching someone realise they were in love.

It was more beautiful than she could’ve ever imagined. 

He smiled at her, still bashful after the events of the evening, and held his arm out to her. She took it, allowing him to walk her all the way to her front door, where he placed a single kiss to her cheek.

He laughed, once he was out of her line of sight. He laughed, and he ran through the puddles, splashing the water everywhere, and he let out loud cheers because the night was silent and only the stars were there to keep him company.

Haley Brooks liked him. No. She loved him.

It made him feel like he could live again.

The moment he felt clean, like the blood had been washed from his hands, like he could breathe again, like he could exist and not feel like there had been some massive mistake, it was raining. Haley had been dead for six months, and it had been six brutal months of cases, of processing his grief, of shutting down in front of the team.

Of teaching Jack that being sad was part of life, and that being happy did not mean he was forgetting Mom, or a terrible person. Of wishing there was someone to hold his hand, just for a moment.

Of flashing Jessica little smiles, because he had lost the first woman to love him the way love was supposed to be, but Jessica had lost her baby sister, and nothing was ever going to bring her back to life. Not his own self-destruction. Not his guilt. Not his pain. Not the way he threw himself into cases that caused the ink to blur before his eyes.

Not the way he was trying so hard to teach his son exactly what love was so he would grow up unafraid to jump in head first, and would always believe in its existence.

Jessica asked if Jack could stay with her for a few days. She had a break in between one project finishing and the next starting, and she was going to use it to look at some of the things Haley had left at her house. Aaron was yet to deal with the things in the house and in storage. He just couldn’t do it.

But Jessica wanted to start, and she wanted Jack to see some of the things. He spoke to Jack, and Jack’s therapist, about the trip, and when both people signed off on it, he packed his son a bag and dropped his son off at his aunt’s for the weekend.

The quietness of the apartment had a greater impact on him than he thought it would’ve. He had gotten used to the sound of Jack racing around. Of Jessica washing dishes. Of their quiet existences that left a mark on every inch on every wall of the convenient location that had somehow evolved into a home- something he thought he’d lost forever when Anderson handed him the divorce papers.

He couldn’t handle the silence. It was suffocating. It reminded him of his childhood house, and of walking on eggshells. It reminded him of the thirty-four days he felt in silence, recovering from stab wounds he wished had killed him, and mourning the loss of his family.

So he drives. And he drives. And he drives.

And he somehow finds himself at Gideon’s cabin. He’d only been there twice since he left the team. Once to pick Reid up once he had the strength to phone and say that he’d found a letter, but he didn’t know what he was meant to do, but Gideon was gone and he didn’t know why everyone always left. Once to pick Rossi up, after the case with the three children that ended with no real sort of justice.

Gideon left him a key. It was in the drawer of his desk, with no explanation. No letter. No apology. Hotch had taken it, and attached it to the keyring that held his house keys. He’d never used it though. 

Not before now.

Because that day, when he goes to Gideon’s cabin, he lets himself in. He walks through the different rooms, smiling at the small traces of his former mentor that still remain there, and the pieces of the other team members that have somehow found themselves a home in the various areas.

He exits out the back door.

Haley had taken him here once. After she found out she was pregnant, he was meant to step down and take a transfer. They’d had it all planned out. Then he’d gotten a phone call saying there was a case, and that case had been Adrian Bale so before he knew what was going on, he was pushed into the role of Unit Chief and trying to rebuild a team that was never meant to have been his.

She had taken him here to remind him of all the reasons he couldn’t leave. Of all the lives he would feel responsible for if he acted selfishly. And he had looked at her, with such love in his eyes, and agreed with her. It had been a quiet trip. A peaceful trip. A warm visit. They had been together, still the teenagers that linked hands during the final bows of their performance.

Haley was dead, and he was left to patch up his own pieces. The visit had been tense and silent, but the uncomfortable type, and even as he walked through the cabin, he wondered why exactly he had bothered coming here. He didn’t know what he was trying to achieve, or what he thought this was going to do. He just knew it was something he needed to do.

When he stepped back out into the woods that surrounded the cabin, the rain started.

He had never believed in signs, not truly, but this one was too big to be anything but that. It was pouring. Enough to cause the branches to sag with the weight of water. Enough to create proper puddles that could be jumped in. Enough to remind him of the first time Haley had kissed him, and how that simple touch had brought him back to life. Enough to remind him of his father’s funeral, and how the feel of the cold had reminded he had no longer had to be afraid.

It was loud enough to drown out the sounds of people.

He had one chance to do this. One chance to see whether or not his love for the rain would still help him the way it always had.

He screamed. He fell to his knees, and he fisted his hands in his hair. He didn’t pull it out, but he tugged at it, and Haley wasn’t there to grip his hands till he could trust himself.

He screamed. And he cried. And he begged for an answer. And he shoved his blazer off, not even caring that his trousers were stained with mud that would likely never come out, and not giving a damn about the cold.

He screamed. Until his throat went dry and his words seemed to fade into nothing, not only because the rain swallowed his noises, but because he couldn’t be loud. 

He screamed until he was soaked and the rain had caused him to go numb and start shivering.

And then he turned around and walked back inside. As he passed the bathroom, something caught his eye. A towel he had thought he had just misplaced whilst on a case, and a hoodie he’d assumed he’d given to Sean and forgotten about. Almost like Gideon had guessed what he would be doing here, and wanted to apologise for what he had done.

Haley would not want him to get sick. Neither would Jessica. Neither would the team. Neither would Jack.

So he went into the bathroom, and he dried himself off, and he zipped the hoodie up. And then he took a final look around the cabin. He smiled to himself, knowing that, no matter what happens, the team will always have this as their safe haven.

He drives home, despite the rain.

It makes him feel like he could love again.