#He’s such a loser i think he had this pic idea since he knew he would be in a final | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jadequeen88 · 4 years ago

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Incel Tomura

I couldn’t think of a good title for this, so... I just went with something real blunt. Anyway, this was inspired by a friend and how she actually met her IRL boyfriend.

PAIRING: Incel!Shigaraki x egirl!reader

TW: face sitting, degradation, mommy kink, reader basically bullying Tomura (he deserves it)

3.2k~

AS ALWAYS MY FICS ARE STRICTLY 18+

“TCH!”

Tomura scoffed at the screen of his laptop. The Discord server he helped admin had gone to shit since he let that idiot Dabi loosen the requirements to join. It was one thing when Toga joined. He knew she was a decent gamer. But you? With those stereotypical cat-ear headsets, perfectly done make-up and short skirts? Please… He saw right through you. Just another fake ~uwu~ e-girl trying to pretend they knew what they were talking about.

It didn’t end with you being annoyingly informed in the gaming chat, either. You were always in the anime and manga chats, too… Suggesting different ones that there’s no way you actually enjoyed.

But the WORST part of you being in the server? Spamming the picture chat with selfies and outfit pics. No, it wasn’t against the guidelines and yes, you got lots of compliments (of course, you were clearly hot), but it made Tomura livid. Where there used to be pics of half-built PCs and screenshots of character upgrades, now there were endless pictures meant to tease and bait the guys in the server.

Today’s picture is what sent him completely over the edge. Your hair was put up in two messy space buns, signature pink cat-eared headset perched on your head. Your black, mesh top was straining against your tight, hot pink bra, barely hiding your cleavage and your slender neck was adorned with a chunky, black collar with a large, silver ring hanging from the front. The icing on the cake, though… the thing that broke him, was the face you were making. Eyes crossed, little pink tongue lolling past your perfect hot-pink lips, it was an obvious ahegao face. The caption read:

“New collar! Thank you for da gift @XxXknifey_wifeyXxX”

Followed by a bunch of annoying ass emojis.

Tomura shifted in his gaming chair, his growing bulge making his sweats tight. He gritted his teeth and opened his DMs…

******

You snickered as you opened your text chat with Dabi. Poor Tomura… He had no clue his friend was an old high school buddy of yours and sent screenshots every single time he bitched about your presence on the server. At first, it was just a couple of snide comments, but you quickly decided to turn it into a game. You’d add more emojis than you normally would, flirt shamelessly with Toga in the chat, and be very vocal with your opinions. Then it progressed with more and more selfies, pics showing off your new skirts, and pics of your pink, girly gaming setup. Today you pushed it with the ahegao face, you’ll admit. It was pretty out of character for you, but you couldn’t wait to hear about Tomura’s reaction from Dabi.

It was everything you hoped it would be:

Decay_666_

So can we give those bitches their own chat or what? Seriously, I’m sick of seeing their shit everywhere. Did you see her ahegao face selfie? This server was supposed to be for ACTUAL gamers, not fake e-girl sluts spamming the chat with their bullshit…

Cremation_Daddy

Lol, damn dude, calm down… we can make a separate chat. You’re the only one on the server complaining. Y/N really fucking you up that bad?

Decay_666_

Oh, fuck off… she’s just being an attention whore and it’s getting on my nerves.

Cremation_Daddy

Yeah, whatever you say. Prolly jerkin it to that selfie right now

You didn’t know why, but you kinda had a crush on the skinny loser. Knowing how worked up he’d get over the smallest things you did thrilled you. You wanted to know just how badly you affected him and today was the day you’d find out.

*****

Tomura heard a ping from his monitor alerting him to a new DM. expecting it to be Dabi giving him more shit, he scowled and clicked over to his Discord tab. When he saw that it was you DMing him, it was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head. He could barely type he was so nervous.

Y/N

Hey :)

Decay_666_

Y/N

How did you like my new collar?

Tomura panicked. Had Dabi said something? There’s no way he’d do that. How did he even respond to that? He decided to feign ignorance.

Decay_666_

What collar?

Y/N

*image*

He audibly gasped. You sent him the selfie you’d posted in the chat earlier. Somehow, it was even hotter than the first time he’d seen it. Probably because you had sent it to him. You wanted to make sure he saw it. The thought alone made him painfully hard. He typed out a shaky response:

Decay_666_

Yeah… you look really pretty :)

He grimaced. He couldn’t think of anything clever when he was put on the spot like that. Plus, how long had it been since he’d spoken to a girl one on one? Much less a hot one? Never. That’s when.

Y/N

Aww, you’re so sweet :) wanna see it in person?

Now Tomura was wondering if he’d died and gone to heaven. Did she want to meet up? Wearing that fucking collar? There’s no way… He stared at the screen for a good ten minutes before another ping brought him back to reality.

Y/N

I’m free now if you are. Plus, there’s a new episode of *insert favorite anime* out and I didn’t wanna watch it alone.

Decay_666_

Yeah. Sure.

His response was almost uninterested but inside he was panicking. When was the last time he showered? How much time did he have to get ready? Did he even have any clean clothes? He leaped from his chair and ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Another ping rang out and he raced to check his DMs to see that you’d sent your address. To his surprise, you only lived a short walk from him. Another jolt of excitement shot through his spine as he quickly responded.

Decay_666_

Be over in 30 :)

He turned on the shower then started picking through his pile of clothes finding the ones that smelled the least offensive. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous and excited at the same time.

*****

Tomura shifted from one foot to the other, nervously scratching at the side of his neck. He caught himself before the skin there broke and he ended up having to deal with a bloody neck on top of already being a nervous wreck. He’d only been standing outside your apartment for a minute or two, but it felt like an eternity. He kept checking his phone to distract himself. Just as he was starting to question if this had been a good idea, the door flung open.

His eyes widened and his mouth turned into a thin line. You answered the door in a fucking towel. He began opening and closing his mouth like a fish that had been plucked from the water. You giggled innocently like it was perfectly normal to answer the door nearly naked.

“You’re here a little earlier than I expected! I just got out of the shower. Come on in,” you moved to the side to give him room to walk through the door into your small apartment. You were sure to not move completely out of the way so he’d have to almost brush against your chest. You could feel him stiffen and hold his breath as he passed by.

This was going to be so much fun…

*****

Tomura’s dick had been painfully hard the moment he’d seen you in that towel. Luckily, when you’d gone into your bedroom to get dressed, he was able to position it in his waistband so he wouldn’t be pitching a tent in front of you. The thought of you noticing him popping a boner just by looking at you in a towel was mortifying.

However, what you decided to change into didn’t help his situation. Your baby pink terry cloth shorts would have shown the curve of your ass had it not been for the little row of ruffles around the bottom. Your tank top, the same baby pink color as your shorts, was pulled tight across your chest (holy shit, were you not wearing a bra?!). A fleeting glance at your chest proved to Tomura that you definitely were not wearing a bra.

“You can come on back,” you beckoned from the doorway of your bedroom, “I thought we’d be more comfortable in here…”

He gulped and rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans before nodding and rising to walk towards you. Your room was foreign to him. Decorated with all shades of pink and purple, soft, plush bedding, and a soft pink glow emanated from the LED strip lights that lined the walls. Tomura stood awkwardly, looking around for a chair to sit in when you flopped onto your bed and began pulling up the streaming app on your tv.

You looked up at him sweetly and patted the spot on the plush comforter next to you. “Come sit, Tomu! You don’t have to stand way over there. I don’t stink, ya know,” the wink you gave him made his knees buckle.

“Umm,” he chuckled nervously, “No, of course not. You, uhh… you smell…”

No, you were way too close. This was bad. There’s no way he would be able to string together a coherent thought, much less hold an actual conversation with you. You pout and lean in even closer to him.

“Tomuuuuu!” fuck, he hated that he loved that stupid nickname, “You think I smell?!”

“What?! N-no, not at all. I was trying to say that-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you tilted your head to the side offering up your neck for him to smell and he swears his eyes crossed as he tried to absorb what was happening.

“I even wore my new perfume! Go on, smell. Tell me what you think,” you smirk looking out of the corner of your eye.

Fuck.

You were teasing him, he knew you were, but his dick was so hard that he was completely at your mercy. He leaned in to take a tentative sniff and his eyes wandered lower. His breath hitched when he noticed the outline of your hardened nipples peeking through the thin material of your tank top. Before he knew what was happening, you turned your face forward and put your mouth next to his ear.

“Are you looking down my shirt, you pervert?” you purred. Tomura made some sort of incoherent noise and pulled away.

You laughed and pushed his shoulder playfully, “Geeze, I’m just kidding! You’re wound so tight.” you pause making a thoughtful face.

“Oh, I know how to help! Come on, over here,” you pulled him between your spread thighs and proceeded to rub his shoulders, working out all of the knots in his lean back.

After a few seconds, Tomura began to relax into your touch, slumping slightly and letting out a tiny sigh. He was deathly still the entire time you massaged him. He was terrified if he moved too much that his raging boner would free itself from his waistband. When your hands left his shoulders, he started to move away just to be pulled back into your lap. His head landed in your cleavage as your hands trailed down his chest.

“Hmm, so tense, Tomu,” you whispered into the crown of his hair, “Is my massage not working?”

He wanted to yell that of course he was tensed up. That his dick is the hardest it’s ever been in his life and if he doesn’t hold as still as possible, he’s scared he might start humping the air like a pathetic dog. Before he can answer, your hand trails down to the waistband of his jeans, and he freezes. The tips of your fingers brush across his leaking tip and Tomura lets out a low, needy moan before he can stop himself.

“Just what I thought,” you purred as you began to trail your fingers up and down the hard bulge in his jeans, “Pathetic. Look at you, so fucking hard for me. And all I did was rub your shoulders.” He wanted to defend himself, but all he could do was whine as his eyes rolled in the back of his head while you continued touching him through his jeans.

“And to think, I never thought you’d want anything to do with some fake bimbo like me. Because I only game and watch anime for attention, right?” you squeeze his cock through his jeans, causing him to yelp. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself, incel? Wanna tell me why your dick is this hard for me if I’m so annoying to you?”

The realization that Dabi had told you everything flitted through the back of his mind, but he didn’t have room in his brain right then to be mad at him. He had to do whatever he needed to do to keep you touching him.

“I, ahh... I’m s-sorry,” he stuttered pathetically. The front of his jeans was wet from your teasing and the denim was rubbing him raw through his thin boxers, “D-didn’t, fuck, didn’t mean it like… ahh, l-like th-that.”

You loved how easily you could wreck him. You pet his hair back from his sweaty brow as you cooed at him lovingly.

“You know,” you removed your hand from the front of his jeans and he whined from the lack of friction, “You really hurt my feelings, baby. I thought you were so cool and the whole time, behind my back, you said just mean things about me.”

He sat up and turned to face you. His pathetic, needy gaze shot straight to your core. The power you held made you drunk and you desperately wanted more.

“No, no no no…” he grabbed your hands and you realized how clammy they were, “I’m-I’m so sorry. Please! Please…”

“Hmm,” you studied him for a moment, “Well… There might be a way you could make me feel a little better.�� you tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, “You were so mean to me.”

“Anything! Please! I-I’ll do anything for you!” desperation started creeping in, thinking you’d leave him hanging with no relief. Little did he know, you had no intention of letting him go any time soon. Your plush lips curled into a devious smile. A soft hand reached up cupping his jaw.

“What a good boy, Tomu,” a tremor passed through his body. You reached over to your nightstand and pulled out the collar you’d taken the selfie in.

“You know,” the collar danced between your painted nails, “This also came with a leash. I was thinking,” your lust-filled eyes meet his, “If you wanted to be a good boy for me… You’d let me see how pretty it looks around your neck.”

Tomura hesitated, his eyes rapidly moving between your eyes and the collar you held. After a moment of consideration, he nodded. You giggled and clapped your hands together excitedly leaping off the bed. You returned with a short, chain-link leash.

“Now,” you leaned in and fastened the collar around his neck. Your bodies were centimeters apart and Tomura thought he might pass out, “When you’re wearing your collar, you don’t call me Y/N,” you nudge his ear with your nose and whisper, “You call me ‘Mommy.’ Do you understand?” you feel him nod against your face.

“That’s not how good boys answer their Mommy. When you answer me, you say, ‘Yes Mommy’ or ‘No Mommy.’ Is that clear?”

“Y-yes… Mommy.”

“Mmm, what a good boy,” you placed a soft kiss on his neck and he let out the most delicious whimper. You hooked a finger through the ring on the front of the collar, “You’re gonna go sit in Mommy’s gaming chair and let her use you as a toy. Okay?”

Tomura’s head was spinning and he almost couldn’t answer until you jerked him by his collar, “Y-yes, Mommy. Please, please make me your toy.”

You stood and dragged him over to your chair and made him sit, “What a polite boy you are! Saying ‘please’ without being asked. If you keep that up, you just might get a reward,” his belt buckle rattled as you worked his jeans down his narrow hips.

A ragged breath escaped his chapped lips as you removed your tiny shorts revealing a black, lace thong. You straddled his lap, your dripping slit hovering a centimeter over the angry, leaking head of his cock. His hands shook as you placed them on your hips and slowly moved your thong to the side. Descending an inch at a time, only teasing his tip, was causing him to come undone underneath you.

“You’re already so close and I’ve only put the tip in. You better be a good boy and not come until I tell you to or you’re going to be punished,” you pushed another couple of inches inside and he nearly wept.

“I-I’m trying, M-mommy! I wanna be a good boy!”

“Mmm, I know, baby. You’re doing so,” another inch, “So…” and another, “Well.” you were fully seated on his cock now. Tomura knew he wouldn’t last. Your velvet walls were sucking him down harder than anything ever had before. It made his fleshlight feel like it was made of sandpaper. You had ruined him for anything else.

With a few rolls of your hips and some high, airy moans, he was about to bust. “Mommy! Mommy, please! I-I’m g-gonna…”

“Tomu,” your voice was authoritative now, “If you come in Mommy’s pussy, I’m going to make you clean it out with your tongue then I’m going to sit on your face until I come as many times as I want.” your hand wrapped around his throat and you started bouncing on his cock. Your filthy words and aggressive motions catapulted him into an orgasm.

“You bad, BAD boy,” a smack to his cheek broke off his moans, “You disobeyed me! Did you do that on purpose?” your hand around his neck flexes, “Are you just a dirty incel that wants Mommy to get mean with you? Answer, Tomu!”

“Yes, Mommy!”

“Tell Mommy what you are…”

“I-I’m a-a… dirty incel.”

“And what do you want?”

“W-want… want Mommy to b-be mean to me…”

You lift him by the collar and attach the leash. He’s thrown onto the bed and you waste no time hovering your dripping slit over his face.

“Now,” you jerk the leash, “Clean up your mess.”

Tomura knew he should be disgusted right now, but his dick was getting harder by the second. With each lick inside your sloppy hole, he shamelessly moaned against your skin. The vibrations were going straight to your clit, causing you to ride his face harder. This went on until you’d almost reached your peak.

“Oh, baby,” you’re making Mommy feel so, so good, “I-I’m gonna…”

Tomura grabbed your ass and moved you back and forth on his face as he sucked your clit into his mouth. Your orgasm hit hard and fast. You lifted your body giving him a moment to breathe before sitting back down, earning a startled mumble from him.

“Don’t think that’s all,” you laughed and humped his face, making his eyes roll into the back of his head, “Be a good boy and mommy might even let you come…”

Tomura only nodded as he began to eat you again like he was starved. Maybe all the stuff you posted in the Discord server wasn’t so annoying anymore...

#Shigaraki #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x you #bnha smut #tw // mommy kink #tw degradation #tw face sitting #jade writes smut

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

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If I Fell For You (Part 14) - Keep Close

Summary: The Ackles have the Padalecki’s over for dinner and let it slip that they’re engaged. Things seem to be going well but the anniversary of the accident is coming up and the reader comes up with the Ackles taking their first vacation together as a means of distracting Jensen as well reconnecting with Ray...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of sex, mention of a dead parent/spouse, anxiety

A/N: Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

“I’m stuffed,” said Jensen that night, the kids running around playing soccer in the yard after dinner.

“I need that chicken recipe,” said Jared.

“I’ll write it down for you guys,” you said, sitting back in your chair. “You can do it with breast too if you like that better.”

“I want exactly this like, everyday from now on,” said Jared. Gen rolled her eyes and Jensen pulled out his phone. “Want me to take a pic?”

“I don’t need your freakishly long arms just yet,” chuckled Jensen. He turned around and took one of the four of you at the table before handing off his phone. “Mind getting one of us?”

“Your mom harassing you for engagement photos already?” asked Gen.

“By the time we were leaving they were both asking for photos and being obnoxious. Better than they were though,” said Jensen, smiling beside you. Jared took a few more and handed the phone back.

“I still can’t believe your parents would act like that,” said Gen. “I mean obviously I’m super happy it got fixed but that’s so unlike them.”

“They made a mistake is all,” you said with a smile. “I don’t know about you guys but I’m going to finish this beer in the pool.”

“I think I’ll join you,” said Jared. He stood up and had a look on his face you caught too late. Before you knew it he had you picked up and was jogging over to the deep end and jumping in with you.

“Jared!” you said when you popped up. He giggled and swam off to the shallow end. “After I helped pick up the plates ya big lug.”

“We got it,” said Jensen, carrying over two beer cans and handing them to you. “We’ll join you guys in a few.”

About ten minutes later Jensen was leaning against the side of the pool in his bright red swim trunks, handing you the other half of his cookie cake piece.

“So any big plans for the wedding?” asked Jared, sat on the pool steps with Gen.

“I have a thought,” you said, turning to Jensen. “I haven’t discussed it with Jensen yet.”

“Vegas. Shotgun wedding,” he laughed. You shook your head and he grinned. “You’re thinking the farm, aren’t you.”

“What do you think? It could be outdoor or indoor, whatever it needs to be depending on the weather.”

“I’d love that,” he said, giving you a squeeze. “That’d be perfect for us.”

“You own a farm?” asked Jared.

“Yeah, ten minutes from the brewery.”

“Dudes. You can open bar with your own beer. Oh and dibs on being a groomsmen.”

“Like that wasn’t gonna happen,” said Jensen.

“I don’t know on that,” you said. Jared’s face fell and you shook your head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that you wouldn’t be one. Of course you would. I just don’t have a lot of close girlfriends. I think it’d be weird if Jensen had a ton and…”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” said Gen. “We didn’t have an even number at our wedding.”

“We got time to figure that stuff out,” said Jensen, holding your waist. You finished the last bite of cookie and hummed.

“So you two having a kid?” asked Jared. Gen whacked his chest and he shrugged.

“Jesus, Jare. Don’t ask that.”

“They’re our best friends and godparents to our children...although I guess Y/N didn’t know that she inherited that until now but come on, I know you’re wondering too.”

“Shut up,” said Gen, crossing her arms. “Obviously if they decide, they’ll tell us when it happens.”

“Yeah, I think there’ll be at least one,” you laughed. Gen lit up and turned to Jared.

“Last time they said they were having a baby guess what we did? I can’t handle no more babies,” said Jared.

“Can you even get that thing up anymore?” teased Jensen, sipping on his beer.

“You’re one to talk, old man.”

“That shit still works just fine.”

“Just fine?” shot back Jared.

“Oh my God. You’re both good at sex. Y/N be grateful you’ve missed this same conversation over and over for the past sixteen odd years,” said Gen.

“I’m still taller,” said Jared with a smirk.

“I can last longer,” said Jensen with one of his own. They narrowed their eyes at one another and Jared stood up.

“Go wrestle on the grass,” groaned Gen. They both huffed and got out of the pool before starting to playfully wrestle. “See, what you may not realize yet is you have another child right there.”

“Yeah but he’s hot,” you said, Gen laughing while you sat beside her. “Do you guys really talk about sex with each other?”

“Yes and no. The boys are you know, boys. They’d combust if they didn’t tease each other. I wouldn’t say there’s like, intimate details or anything ever shared. They’re both pretty private about that sort of thing. Dee and I would talk but more so say we had fun the night before. Shit we probably talked about sex toys more than anything.”

You stopped mid sip of your beer and she laughed.

“When your guy is thousands of miles away for that long out of the year, you gotta get off on your own. You get pretty good at phone sex too. You’re lucky. Jensen won’t be staying away so long ever again he said.”

“No, no. But uh...before Jensen I’d had the same boyfriend forever and he was as vanilla as could be. We didn’t do that stuff really together.”

“I can text you some links to stuff. It’s not like you have to go in some scary store or anything. It’s discrete and I think a small vibe would be great to start with. You can use it during sex or foreplay or whatever. Just you know, have fun.”

“Jensen and I kinda got busted by the cops a week or so back for...activities in the backseat,” you said. She started to laugh and you groaned. “Thankfully it was his friend that caught us so he let us off the hook but...it was kinda fun.”

“Good,” she said, sighing as Jensen pinned Jared down. “Hey so yeah about that wedding thing. Jared had two more groomsmen than I had girls. It doesn’t have to be matchy, matchy, you know?”

“I know. I don’t know if…” you trailed off. “I lost my friend group when I broke it off with my last boyfriend. We’d been together for over ten years and I kept turning down his proposals and they didn’t like that. I have some nanny friends but not a lot and no one I’m really close to. I don’t know if I’d even get more than five people to come for me. Everyone else is his family and friends and I didn’t think about that until just now. I mean what would they think, seeing that? I don’t know if I even want anyone there now.”

“I think what they’d see is someone they care about marrying someone he loves. Just because we’re Jensen’s friends doesn’t mean we’re not your friends too. I know we’re still getting to know each other but we’ll be as close as those two eventually. Ruthie was texting me and we’re having a girls night the next convention in Dallas. You literally have a built in crew ready to go from the show, the girls and the guys. You are so coming with me to the next night I have with my local girlfriends and you got our family. You even got Dee’s parents. You have more than you know, sweetie.”

“I never had a best friend growing up except for my mom. Until Jensen,” you said. “I’ve never really been good at the friend thing.”

“Were you bullied in school?” she asked quietly.

“Don’t tell anyone besides Jared but my dad wasn’t a good person. He hurt me and so I was afraid of getting in trouble so I didn’t talk to other kids all that much until I got old enough to understand what he was doing was wrong and that’s how I ended up being adopted.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can’t do anything about it now. But I can have it not control my life too. I’ve been pretty good since I was nine in that department. My mom dying sucked and things have been up and down but I like where I am now. This is easily the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Jens’s not perfect.”

“I know. But he’s good enough. He gave me a certain confidence to live my life, like really live it.”

“He’s alright,” she smiled. “You know I have an idea about this bridesmaids thing you might like.”

“You?”

“Oh I would for sure but I meant more so I know two little girls that wouldn’t mind. Maybe there’s a boy too,” she said.

“I’m gonna need you to be my wedding planner at this rate,” you said.

“Job accepted,” she said. “I say we go farmhouse modern style.”

“Gen. I got engaged like two weeks ago. We have time,” you said. “We don’t even have a date.”

“At the very least can we go dress shopping?” she asked.

“I’m going to regret this,” you sighed as Jensen stepped back in the water.

“Get yourself a stronger man, Padalecki. That one is weak,” he said. Jared followed him right after and went to tackle him when Gen caught his arm.

“Boys, not in the water,” she said.

“Chicken?” asked Jensen.

“Losers pick up the tab for when we go out this weekend for dinner. Deal?” asked Jared.

“Well in that case, you’re on.”

Two Weeks Later

“Jensen,” you said, carding your fingers through his hair while he absentmindedly burnt some eggs. “You okay babe?”

“Yeah. We ought to pack up the kids, get on the road soon if we’re gonna hit the beach.”

“I’m gonna drive, okay?” you asked. He nodded and you got out the eggs again, making up a new batch. “Do you want to talk to Ray?”

“Why?” he asked quietly, leaning back against the counter.

“Anniversaries of traumatic events can be triggering,” you said. “My mom died two days ago. Well, you know what I mean.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.

“Because it doesn’t trigger me anymore. But it did and this is the first time...the first one is the roughest.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I ought to talk to him.”

“Eat your breakfast. I’ll give him a call and get the kids ready while you guys talk, okay?” you said.

“Thank you,” he said. You kissed his cheek and hugged him before you went upstairs for your phone. It rang a few times but Ray finally answered, noise in the background.

“Y/N. Everything alright?” he asked.

“Hey. Yeah. We’re...we’re pretty good. Today’s the first anniversary of Jensen’s-”

“Ah. I understand.”

“Listen, I know it’s a Sunday and you don’t work the weekends but would you mind talking to him for a few minutes? We’re going down to Galveston for the week in a bit but he’s off this morning.”

“I’d talk to him even if he wasn’t your fiance but especially because of that. You know we’re actually down here ourselves for a few days. Just got down yesterday. If you guys are around...maybe we could get together for that swim.”

“I’d like that. You okay?” you asked.

“I always get a little down on the day but Sarah understands. You understand.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna put Jensen on and um, maybe we can meet at Arillo’s for dinner?”

“We got a reservation there ourselves tonight. How many in your crew? Five? I’ll call and ask for an update.”

“Yeah there’s five of us. Um, Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for being so horrible as a teenager after mom. You loved her as much as I did.”

“Thank you but you don’t have to apologize for that. You got too much pain in your life. I’m glad you found the good stuff too.”

“Are Geroge and Taylor there?” you asked.

“Yeah kids are here. Taylor’s got some internship but she does it online half the day and George is some research assistant thing for one of his professors but same kinda deal. We leave them to work in the morning while Sarah and I have some fun. Want me to let them know you’re coming?”

“Probably a good idea. Not sure how they’ll react,” you said, Jensen poking his head into the bedroom. “Here’s Jensen.”

“Okay, sweetie. We’ll see you guys soon.”

You handed the phone to Jensen and finished up packing while he sat on the bed. You tried to leave him be but couldn’t help listening in.

“Yeah I’m anxious...I don’t want her to drive down today...you know why...I guess...probably...I don’t want to be freaking out for three hours in the car...because it’s today...I know...I know...so I have to suck it up...I don’t want to have a panic attack in the car with the kids...no I haven’t...I’m scared I will though...yeah...I understand...dude that sounds so stupid...that’s not medically anything...no I don’t have my doctorate...I don’t wanna ask her...I said I don’t want to, not that I wouldn’t...I know...I will...maybe I’ll try that too...yeah, Y/N said the first year is the roughest too...I’ll let her be in charge until we get down to the beach today. I think I’ll feel better after the car...yeah I kinda figured out what she was doing planning a trip on today of all days...I need it...really? Yeah, I’m looking forward to meeting up down there too...thanks Ray.”

You finished with your suitcase and had his open for him when he walked into the closet. He swallowed and handed your phone back.

“All good?” you asked.

“Ray thought it might be a good idea if I had something of yours with me on the way down, to keep on me since I’m...anxious this morning about being in a car.”

“Something of mine…” you said, looking at your side of the closet. “Why don’t you pack up and I’ll get you something before the road, okay?”

He nodded and twenty minutes and about three bathroom trips later the SUV was packed up. You hopped behind the wheel, Jensen tapping the arm rest from the passenger seat.

“Here,” you said, reaching into your pocket, pulling out a bracelet. It was fabric, the kind made from craft string, white, rusty orange and a light tan color mixed together.

“I’ve never seen this,” he said as he held it between his fingers.

“I got it on vacation with mom and Ray. Last one we went on,” you said, tying it around his wrist. “You have it.”

He stared at you as you turned the engine on, watching you backout.

“This is too important for me to take,” he said quietly.

“It’s fabric. I want you to have it, okay?” you said, pulling onto the street and closing the gate. He nodded and you turned the radio on low. “Coffee run?”

“Yeah. Coffee sounds good right about now.”

You were only about fifteen or so minutes away from the beach house you’d rented. The kids were either taking naps in the backseats or watching a movie on the ipad. You risked a glance at Jensen, his fingers absently toying with the bracelet while he looked out the window, the radio on low.

“How you doing big guy?” you asked as you pulled off to the exit ramp.

“Pretty good now,” he said softly.

“Mind navigating for me?” you asked. He hummed and picked up your phone from where it sat in the console the past few hours. About twenty minutes or so you were stretching outside of the car, Jensen opening the front door of the house with the code you’d been given. The kids climbed out and were good about each taking their own backpacks while you and Jensen gathered up the rest.

“Come here,” he said, leaving the bags by his feet and kissing you against the side of the car. You grinned and he picked you up in a big squeezing hug. “I love you.”

“I know,” you said. He set you down and kissed you again. “You seem like yourself again.”

“I needed that push, get over that fear. But now, I can enjoy my day with my girl and my kiddos and apparently we are having dinner with Ray and his family tonight?” he asked.

“If that’s alright,” you said.

“One hundred percent,” he said, Arrow jumping up and down nearby. “Honey, go use the bathroom in the house if you have to go.”

“No I’m excited!” she said. “Can we go play on the beach? Pretty please?”

“Hm, give daddy fifteen minutes and then we can go?” he asked. She turned to you and grinned.

“We’ll go really soon sweetie. I promise.”

“Hey guys,” said Jensen an hour later, the five of you down on the beach and mostly watching them build a sandcastle together. “Y/N and I want to tell you something.”

“Is it that you guys are getting married?” asked JJ, patting some sand with her shovel. You glanced at Jensen and he shrugged. “You were talking to Aunt Gen and Uncle Jared about it last night, right?”

“Well, yes we were,” said Jensen. “I suppose we were a little louder than we thought. But yes, Y/N and I have decided to get married. We’re not sure when exactly but in the next year I can say.”

“So we have a mom again?” asked Arrow, fixing her corner of the castle that kept caving in.

“Well you guys are kinda lucky. You’ll get two moms,” he said. “How’s that sound?”

“We missed mom’s day,” she said with a sigh. “Right?”

“We’ll catch it next year, promise,” said Jensen. “Do you guys have any questions or anything you want to say?”

“Do we call you mom now?” asked JJ.

“You guys call me whatever you want,” you said.

“Can we call you mom?” she asked. You nodded and she went back to playing in the sand.

“Anything else guys?” asked Jensen.

“Can I get a giraffe?” asked Zeppelin while he figured out how much water to add to the sand to get it to stick together.

“No sweetie. They wouldn’t fit at our house,” said Jensen.

“Darn it,” he said.

“I can tell you’re all so invested in this topic,” chuckled Jensen.

“Oh! Can my flower girl dress be purple?” asked JJ.

“Your dress can be whatever color you want it to be,” you said.

“Awesome,” she said. “Or black and purple. With lightning stripes.”

“Ah, I knew the classic rock would finally pay off,” said Jensen.

“Maybe Daddy’s suit can be black and white stripes, like a tiger,” you said.

“Like a White Snake music video more like it,” he laughed. “We’ll figure all that stuff out. We wanted to make sure you guys knew was all and if you have any questions or were nervous or anything you know you can ask either one of us.”

“Mom makes you happy again. Of course you gotta marry her!” said Arrow. “Oh and get her a pony. Girls like that.”

“Would you care for a pony, sweetheart?” asked Jensen as he shook his head.

“Are we talking mustang kind of pony?” you asked.

“That’s my girl,” he said, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, kissing your cheek. “Let dad get a picture of you guys. We’re on vacation after all.”

Five Hours Later

“Jensen,” you said, changing into a light summer top and a pair of denim shorts after your shower. He was standing by his suitcase undressed, trailing his finger over his scar. “Honey?”

“A year ago was the worst day of my life and today was a really great one. I get to meet Ray more and even Sarah and the kids who all sound great and...I’m really happy I’m still here to see all this.”

“Me too,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “Wear your red underwear.”

“Is that a request?”

“I like how you look when you take it off,” you said, gently smacking his ass as you went to go fix your hair.

“I am so grateful I found you,” he said to himself. You smiled and brushed your teeth quickly before checking yourself over and taking a selfie. You sat up on the counter and opened instagram, still silently grateful you’d always had it on private. There was nothing bad on it but Jensen and Jared had tagged you before and all of the comments always seemed to be negative.

“How do I look?” asked Jensen, walking in wearing a short sleeve navy button down and his red underwear.

“So sexy,” you giggled, Jensen digging through his other bag and finding his khaki shorts.

“Can I get away with sneakers and a backwards baseball cap at this restaurant?” he asked.

“Totally. We always eat outside. It’s near the pier,” you said, putting up your post.

“Taking more pictures I can show off of you again?” he asked, grabbing your brush and getting some control of his damp hair back.

“Nobody even sees my instagram hardly,” you said.

“You know the internet knows we’re dating, right.”

“I’m pretty sure your fans still aren’t okay with that fact, even if they know.”

“Oh you’re mistaking the nutjobs for actual fans. The real ones, those guys are cool and nice. I actually got a lot of care packages and things from them last year. Still do. They really are good people. Those other ones that leave nasty comments? Fuck them. That shit don’t bother me anymore.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying family and friends know. Can I show off the woman I love to the world?” You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in front of you, his head cocking.

“Yeah,” you said. “Better late than never.”

“Okay,” he said. “For now though, I’m looking forward to this dinner.”

“I hope it goes well. It’s George and Taylor I’m more worried about. They were kids when I decided to stop coming around. I only knew them maybe two years, if even that. I know they were upset.”

“Give them some credit. Ray raised them too after all.”

“I’m all set!” said Zeppelin, walking into the bathroom with his paw patrol shirt and nothing else on.

“At least I was gonna wear underwear,” chuckled Jensen. “Little dude. Get some undies on and shorts in the next two minutes or else…” he trailed off as he came in and hugged Jensen’s leg.

“I love you, daddy,” he said.

“I love you.”

“Can we get a giraffe now?” he asked. Jensen rolled his eyes and you released him.

“Let’s go finish getting you dressed, buddy.”

“So you guys were Sarah’s fosters?” asked Jensen towards the end of dinner, all three kids passed out asleep in the stroller or on the bench besides you while you picked at your shared dessert. Neither George or Taylor had said much aside from introducing themselves.

“Guys,” said Ray, nudging Taylor. “I’m sorry for our children’s rudeness. I was afraid of this.”

“Shut up,” they both said, Sarah sighing.

“The kids were both big fans of Supernatural. They grew up watching it with me. It was something we bonded over at first in fact,” she said.

“Oh,” said Jensen, a smirk forming on his face. “Sam or Dean girls? George come on buddy, it’s okay.”

“This isn’t happening,” said Taylor, her eyes squeezed shut.

“So you guys don’t want to hear about the movie, gotcha,” he said, both of them snapping their heads up.

“He really is a dork,” you said.

“Movie?” asked George.

“Someday. You can count on it,” said Jensen. “Maybe I’ll go easy on you guys and ask what mom was?”

“You boys are a little young for my tastes but honestly the guy who played John was very attractive,” she said.

“Even I’d hit that,” said Ray, Sarah laughing to herself.

“You can see Ray wins his ladies over with his charm,” you said, glancing at Taylor and George. “Like you guys could literally ask anything you ever wanted about the show and get an unfiltered answer if you want.”

“Did you really keep the car?” asked George. Jensen nodded and held up his finger.

“When we’re back in town, you guys come over and you can take a spin in it,” he said.

“Okay, he’s cool with me,” said George. You cocked your head and he smiled. “That was the car from the show I always told you about.”

“Oh. I thought you were talking about batman or something,” you said, pursing your lips. “Sorry I wasn’t…”

“You always sucked at pretending to be happy,” said Taylor. You looked down and nodded. “We get it. You had to do your own thing.”

“Don’t hate me for leaving?”

“Maybe when we were little,” she said. “But we’re older and we get that you probably felt like a fifth wheel.”

“Yeah. A lot really,” you said. “It worked out though.”

“She’s a Dean girl by the way,” said Ray, cracking up as Taylor whacked his arm.

“Dad! Oh my God no I’m not! I like Sam!” she said.

“Want to talk to him?” grinned Jensen. Her face went red and you heard a quiet chuckle at the table. “You’re right, we’ll save that for in person.”

“You basically are marrying Dean Winchester without like, the trauma,” she said. Jensen tensed up but kept a smile on his face. You knew Ray caught it when he gave him a simple nod.

“Trauma’s not inherently bad,” said Ray. “Everyone at this table has gone through some.”

“I know, dad,” she said quietly. She looked at George and he nodded. “Our parents were in a house fire. So were we. I was five and Georgie was four.”

“She carried him out and went next door for help,” you said.

“I was in a car accident last year,” said Jensen. You turned your head. It wasn’t public knowledge that he was in the car. He’d flat out told you that aside from family and a few friends, no one besides you knew. “I almost died. My wife did but for other reasons. You can still have trauma and a really good life.”

“Very good point, Jensen,” said Ray. “You two rugrats wouldn’t be around if mom and I had moped around in our misery forever.”

“Was he always such a sap?” asked George.

“From the day I met him,” you said, Jensen grabbing your hand under the table. “Would you mind watching the kids for a second?”

“Not at all,” he said. You excused yourself and brought Jensen along with you, walking out to the beach area, the breeze cool but light.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. I can talk about it now. I went from having the worst year of my life to one of the best. Nothing bad’s gonna happen for saying what really happened. I want to let all that shit go and have the rest of that really good life I was talking about.”

“For someone who keeps a lot inside I sure have noticed a difference in you the past few weeks.”

“To quote both of the loves of my life, I gotta let that shit out more regularly,” he said. You smiled and wrapped your arms over his shoulders, giving him a kiss.

“You know that’s what we call growth, babe.”

“I very easily could have gone the opposite way this year.”

“But you didn’t, cause you tried even though it sucks sometimes. I love you but I extra love happy you and you’re definitely a happier guy now than when I met you.”

“So are you, honey,” he said. “Must make a pretty good team or something.”

“Oh yeah, maybe that’s it.”

“We should honestly get like, married or something, you know?” he teased.

“First I have to know though, are you willing to do cookie cake for a wedding cake?”

“I’m willing to make that sacrifice,” he said. “The real questions is, are you willing to deal with the eventual dad bod that will happen as a result?”

“I love this bod, but I don’t love you for this bod,” you said.

“Thank you for today,” he said softly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said. He grinned and kissed your cheek, hugging you tightly. “What are best friends for?”

“Everything?”

“Hell yeah they are Ackles.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 15 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen series #jensen x reader #rpf #rpf series #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic

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grapesodatozier · 3 years ago

Text

so close to the real thing (closer than you think)

rating: explicit

word count: 6.8k

summary: Eddie's been pining over Richie for as long as he can remember. He loves everything about Richie; especially how much Richie loves touching him. It's a little inconvenient, though. Eddie copes with his pent up sexual tension by constantly checking a porn blog he's obsessed with on tumblr. This guy has the same type of body as Richie, he talks like Richie, his name is even Richie! It makes it all too easy for Eddie to pretend it really is Richie while getting himself off to all of the blog's content.

You'll never guess what he finds out when he starts sexting this stranger named Richie from his anonymous porn blog.

tags: friends to lovers, porn with feelings, love confessions, dom/sub dynamics, bi dom top richie, gay sub bottom eddie, the most oblivious pining idiots in the world lol we love them

notes: this is one of my more ridiculous ideas but I had so much fun with it lol. also as a note you probably should not approach people on the internet the way they do in this fic, but they're just v enthusiastic and everything here is v consensual!! still tho definitely don't take this indulgent fic as a guide on how to approach real people online lmao. okay have fun!!

read on ao3 or below!!

notsfw under the cut

Eddie Kaspbrak’s friends were his entire world; time spent with them meant everything to him. But he also really valued his alone time. He’d always been the sort who needed time to just sit on a grassy hill and watch the trains go by, to catch up on comics in his room, to get lost in Netflix shows or even just his thoughts as he moseyed around his apartment—one he live in by himself, for when these moods hit. He needed time to himself to unwind. And sometimes he unwound by scrolling through some porn blogs on tumblr with his hand in his pants.

There was one blog that he was particularly fond of. There were other blogs more catered to his personal interests, namely blogs that didn’t feature women like this one did. But there was a good balance of genders represented, so Eddie figured he could just scroll past those posts. This guy was worth it. His pictures were ridiculously hot, and his dirty talk was even hotter.

Also, his name was Richie. Which Eddie refused to acknowledge as part of the draw.

It was harder to ignore tonight. He’d been out with the losers, and Richie had just been so touchy. And there was something about the way he'd been talking; his voice was lower than normal, slower in a way that made Eddie’s stomach flip. And his touches had lingered, his hand squeezing Eddie’s hip slow, then lazily brushing against his ass as he dropped it. Eddie could hardly take it. He brushed it off as Richie just being tired from work, but god, Eddie wanted it to mean more. The hardest part was hiding how much he wanted Richie to keep doing it.

There were so many things Eddie wanted Richie to do to him. He wanted Richie to touch him harder, to grab him by his hips with both hands. Richie’s hands were so big; Eddie just knew Richie could manhandle him so easily, so roughly. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have Richie’s hands all over him, grabbing at his ass and his thighs, holding his wrists down, making him feel so small. While Eddie would never admit it, huffing at every short joke Richie made, but he loved being shorter than Richie. He loved how safe he felt when Richie held him. And he was dying to know how small he would feel with Richie looming above him, or sitting in Richie’s lap, bouncing on his cock. He wanted to hear Richie talking to him in that low, slow voice, with that condescension Eddie did his best to pretend not to be affected by. He wanted Richie to whisper in his ear and call him all those pretty names he always dropped so casually, all those sweet ones and also ones that were a lot meaner. He wanted Richie to want him.

But it was easier to think about it than to ask for it. He knew Richie had way more experience than him. Well, okay, maybe not way more necessarily, but they were starting their third year of college, and he hadn’t wasted any time. Eddie, on the other hand, hadn’t done anything more than hand stuff with someone else. The guys he’d hooked up with were nice enough, and hot enough, but they just… weren’t Richie.

He supposed this guy on tumblr wasn’t Richie either, but at least he was everything else Eddie wanted. None of his hookups had been so, well, dominant, and that was this guy’s whole thing. He was dominant and a top and into guys that looked like Eddie. He even kind of talked like Richie, and he was apparently pining over his best friend, just like Eddie was. It had him completely smitten. Plus, internet-Richie’s crush had brown eyes like Eddie, and he ran track, just like Eddie did. Internet-Richie had posted once about his dick getting hard watching his friend at his track meet, and Eddie had come so hard that night, his track shorts around his ankles, imagining his Richie thinking those things about him.

Eddie was in bed now, in nothing but his boxers and one of Richie’s old shirts that had been Eddie’s for a while now. Still reeling from the way Richie had been acting that night, he logged into his porn account on his phone and scrolled through his dash for a grand total of thirty seconds before going immediately to internet-Richie’s blog. A thrill went through Eddie’s body when he saw that he had just posted. He’d written, “god my friends gonna fuckn kill me with that ass, i wanna plow him so bad” then reblogged it and added, “reminder that my asks and dms are always open if any pretty needy little subs need help getting off. please come be sluts in my messages.” Eddie’s breath caught in his throat when he saw that there was a picture, too, one of him gripping his hard cock, his boxers pulled down just enough for Eddie to see the dark hair around the base of his cock. Eddie moaned at the sight. His cock was so nice, so long and thick and pink. And fuck, his fingers. They were so long and slim, almost as nice as his-Richie’s.

Eddie scrolled a little farther down, his heart racing. There were a lot of reblogs, but some original posts here and there, things like, “what i wouldn’t do to have a pretty guy drooling all over my cock rn,” and, “in the mood to get someone dick drunk. wanna fuck a someone so hard they forget their own name.” One that made Eddie nearly choke said, “want someone i can pump my come into whenever i want, over and over again. want a sub i can keep full of my come all the fuckn time.” That post had Eddie getting out his lube.

It also had him thinking about internet-Richie’s most recent post, his post about his DMs being open.

Eddie bit his lip and thought about it. He’d sent internet-Richie some asks before from his porn blog (his blog didn’t have his name on it, just the teddy bear emoji, since he privately thought the teddy/Eddie rhyme was fun and clever, and also it was cute), and he’d seemed plenty happy enough to respond then. Still, it felt like a much bigger step to DM him, to talk to him just one on one. But the more he read his posts, the more he thought about his-Richie and how he’d touched Eddie that night, the easier it was to convince himself to shoot his shot with this stranger.

Eddie just messaged him a simple, “hi,” with a heart emoji. It was innocent enough, but his heart was still racing.

Internet-Richie responded a lot faster than Eddie was expecting. Honestly he hadn’t been expecting a response at all. But he said:

hiya cutie (; ive been hoping youd message me

Eddie flushed. He couldn’t help but hear cutie in his-Richie’s voice—especially given how often Richie used the nickname. really? he typed back.

fuck yes, ur cute little messages make me so hard. i can tell ur a pretty little thing just from the way you type

Eddie was blushing deep. Pretty little thing. That was hotter than it should’ve been. He wanted his Richie to talk to him like that, in that deep, sleepy voice.

there’s no way you can tell that from some messages :P, Eddie sent.

His heart stopped at the next messages internet-Richie sent.

oh, u dont think so?

why dont u send me some pics to prove me wrong (;

Oh my god, Eddie thought, his breath coming short. His head swam at the thought of sending this guy nudes, of showing himself off to someone who clearly wanted to see him, who would know how to take care of him and fuck him the way he liked, a guy with his crush’s fucking name and body type and hands. It had Eddie’s cock hard and leaking, and he slowly slid a finger inside of himself.

But just because the thought turned him on didn’t mean he was gonna send this stranger what he wanted so easily, even if he desperately wanted to.

you’d like that, wouldn’t you?

He fingered himself open as he waited for a response, working his way up to two fingers. It was nearly impossible to ignore his cock, but he didn’t want to come before the conversation even had a chance to start.

fuck ya i would, internet-Richie responded. Then, in a second message, whats wrong baby? you shy? ill show u mine ;)

Eddie's breath caught. God, this guy even made stupid shit sound hot, just like Eddie’s Richie. This was unreal.

i’ve seen yours, Eddie pointed out.

ya and you musta liked it if ur messaging me rn

Eddie bit his lip. ...maybe

aw thats cute sweetheart. u know i can see all the needy little tags you add when u reblog my stuff right?

Eddie blushed. He’d kind of always hoped he’d read them, but he never thought he actually did. i didn’t know you read those

oh ya, read them, jerk off to them. bit of a size queen, aren’t you? ;) it’s cute. makes me so fuckn hard when u talk abt how u want me to fill you up

Eddie whimpered out loud, sliding a third finger into himself. Fuck, he wanted that cock inside of him so bad. But right now one of his toys would have to do, once he was stretched out enough. He sped up his fingers, getting impatient. Gathering up all of his horny courage, he sent, show me.

what, no please? only good boys who use their manners get dick pics babydoll

Eddie pouted and whined to himself, making quick work of sliding his hot pink vibrator inside of himself—well, as quickly as he could without hurting himself. He moaned as it filled him up, making pleasure spread deep through his body. Slowly pumping it in and out, he reached for his phone. please, he typed, please let me see? wanna know what to picture while i fuck myself with my vibrator. He even added the wide eyed pouting emoji to really milk the whole begging thing. He knew he’d been playing a little coy, but now with the way internet-Richie was talking to him he was getting desperate.

well fuck baby since ur begging ;)

Eddie held his breath as he waited for the picture, slowly rocking his toy in and out, savoring the feeling. He wished it was Richie doing it, wished it was his cock. The lines between which Richie blurred; he wanted to get fucked by either of them, both of them.

What Eddie received when his phone lit up was not a picture, but a video. It was short, just a few seconds of Richie’s hand dragging wetly, smoothly over his cock, but it had Eddie drooling. The room was dark, so he’d used a flash, and it made the mix of what Eddie assumed was precome and spit glisten as the swollen head of Richie’s cock disappeared and reappeared from behind his fingers. Eddie must’ve played it at least five times, fucking himself a little faster, before remembering to say something back. And to take a video of his own. fuck, I want you so bad, want you to fucking ruin me, he wrote back. A part of him couldn’t believe how openly desperate he was being, but he found that he liked it; he liked the way it made him blush, he liked the way it felt to beg, to ask for what he wanted.

Richie’s response came fast: show me kitten. show me how you want me to fuck your pretty little ass.

Eddie moaned at the pet name; casual little nicknames were such a weakness for him. He was already so far gone, just picturing Richie’s cock inside of him, picturing him stroking his cock to thoughts of Eddie. The attention had his cock hard and leaking as he thrust his vibrator even deeper inside of himself, pumping it in and out a few more times before rolling over and getting on his hands and knees. It was hard to take a video from this angle, but he wanted to show off his ass and hide his face. Plus, there was something so hot about having his ass in the air and his face shoved in his pillow, looking like the perfect image of someone desperate to be fucked. He loved the way it made him feel, loved the thought of being so open for someone. For Richie.

He ended up shooting a short video as well, about ten seconds of him sliding his vibrator slowly in and out of himself, letting out soft little moans. He was pretty pleased with the way it turned out, his hole pink and smooth and wet as it stretched around his toy. The angle was a little weird, showing a lot of his room once or twice when his hand slipped a little, but overall he thought his ass looked amazing, if he did say so himself. He sent it and said, feels so good. do you want me to go faster?

As he sent it, he got settled on his back, forcing himself to go slow as he fucked himself while he waited for internet-Richie’s response. It was taking longer than before, and Eddie was getting antsy; it was so hard to drag it out, to not get ahead of himself. But whatever Richie was doing, Eddie knew it would be worth the wait. Still, he pouted as his cock ached, begging for attention.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock at the door.

He groaned to himself and stayed put, fucking himself even slower as he waited for whoever it was to leave. But then the knocking continued, loud and incessant and obnoxious, and Eddie knew exactly who it was. He also knew he wasn’t going to go away any time soon, which honestly made him smile and blush. Richie had terrible timing, but Eddie would never be upset to see him.

Reluctantly, he slowly slid the toy out and pulled on his shorts, leaving his shirt off. He still had a pretty obvious boner, but his horny brain did not mind the idea of Richie seeing it. So he strode lazily down the hall, shouting a performatively annoyed, “I’m coming!” Finally, he opened the door, cocking his hip to the side and giving Richie an expectant look. “Can I help you?” he asked, a small smile dancing around the corner of his lips. He had to fight off a smirk at the wide eyed look Richie gave him as he ran his eyes over Eddie’s body.

“Fuck,” he muttered lowly, his eyes trained on Eddie’s cock, which was getting even harder the more Richie stared. Eddie bit his lip and grinned a little, making doe eyes at Richie. But Richie didn’t meet his gaze—instead he brushed past Eddie, his mouth still hanging open as he made his way urgently toward Eddie’s bedroom.

“Richie?” Eddie asked, a little let down that Richie’s hands weren’t all over him right now. But hey, if he was heading to Eddie’s bedroom he figured that was at least the right direction. He closed his front door and followed Richie into his room, where he found him staring at the bright pink vibrator on the bed. As confident and horny as Eddie was feeling, that still made him blush. He was only human. Crossing his arms, he said, bashful now, “I was kind of in the middle of something.”

Richie looked over at him, his cheeks bright red under his freckles. Then he got a glimmer of that trademark shit-eating grin on his face. “Eds, you fucking slut,” he said, sounding both delighted and breathless. “You are so fucking hot.”

Eddie flushed and tried not to squirm, but he couldn’t help but press his legs together, his eyes brightening. Fuck, was this actually happening? Shit, he needed to think of something witty to say. “You gonna do anything about it?” Okay, that kinda sounded like a corny porn, but he had to give himself credit for even being able to form words just after his lifelong crush and personal wet dream had just admitted his attraction to him.

“I think I already have been,” Richie said, still grinning.

Eddie cocked an eyebrow at him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Oh yeah? How do you figure that?”

Eddie was expecting a confession. He was expecting something along the lines of you think I don’t notice how you look at me? or did you really think those were casual touches earlier? What he was not expecting was for Richie to unlock his phone and hold it up, showing Eddie the video he had just taken, the video he’d sent to internet-Richie.

Oh. Oh. Oh fuck.

“Oh my god, that’s you?” Eddie cried in disbelief.

“You’re telling me you didn’t recognize this dick?” Richie asked, swaggering over to Eddie, clearly enjoying himself.

“How did you recognize it was me?”

Richie nodded toward the Thundercats poster on Eddie’s wall, then to the model train that sat on his dresser. “What other guy has decor like that and the ass to match?”

Eddie grinned and shook his head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well pardon me for not being especially eloquent when I’ve just learned that the guy I’ve been masturbating to since I learned how to and been in love with for even longer has been masturbating to me too.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, all thoughts of getting fucked leaving for a moment. “You’re in love with me?” he asked, his voice as soft as his smile.

Richie was not a bashful person, but the little laugh he let out just then was close to it. “Have been my whole life, but thanks for finally noticing.”

Eddie shook his head and stepped closer, until he had to crane his head up to meet Richie’s gaze. “I love you too.”

Richie’s eyes widened behind his thick frames. Eddie had only seen that look in Richie’s eyes a few times before, but he never wanted to lose sight of it again. He always wanted Richie to look at him like that. But then Richie was closing his eyes and leaning down. It only took Eddie a second to get with the program, drinking in the moment just a little longer before letting his own eyes fall shut as he pressed his lips against Richie’s.

It started gentle enough, if deep and passionate and intentional. But then Richie’s hands were on Eddie’s bare waist, skin against skin, and Eddie was gasping into Richie’s mouth, his hands coming up and resting against Richie’s chest. He curled his fingers into Richie’s shirt as Richie ran his tongue over Eddie’s lips, just before pulling away. He laughed at Eddie’s indignant little whine.

“Oh, you mean you don’t want me to take off my shirt right now?” he smirked as Eddie tried to pull him closer by the offending fabric. Huffing, Eddie conceded and let go long enough to let Richie pull the shirt off over his head.

“Oh,” he said softly, his voice a little, awed moan as he drank in Richie’s chest. It wasn’t like Richie had never been shirtless in front of Eddie before, but Eddie had never felt like he was allowed to really look at Richie all those times. But now he could; now he could touch. And he did, running his fingers over Richie’s smooth, warm skin, over his acne scars and blackheads and freckles. “Fuck, Richie,” he sighed before pressing his lips to Richie’s collarbones, trailing them all over Richie’s beautiful chest.

Richie gave a breathless, almost shy laugh as he stroked Eddie’s hair. “Damn, Eds, never pegged you as a tits guy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie giggled, bringing his lips back to Richie’s. They both smiled into it, getting lost for a moment as Richie’s hands slid slowly down Eddie’s sides. His hands lingered on Eddie’s hips for a moment before he slid them further down and grabbed at Eddie’s ass, making him gasp.

“Is that any way to talk to the guy who’s about to rail you ‘til you can’t walk?”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Eddie asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Spank me?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Richie smirked. He gave Eddie’s ass a playful smack, making Eddie gasp again and fall into him, needing more. Richie’s voice was dripping with adoration as he purred, “Little brat,” and pulled Eddie against him, kissing him again. Eddie went with it easily and happily parted his lips to let Richie lick into his mouth. Richie had one hand gripping Eddie’s jaw and the other on his ass, touching him in a way that exuded a command Eddie was desperate to follow. God, Eddie knew Richie had big hands, but they felt huge on him like this. It was dizzyingly hot. And the way Richie’s tongue was teasing his had Eddie’s knees going weak. His dick was throbbing in his shorts, aching to finish what he’d started, what had been interrupted. When he thought about it all—about playing with himself for Richie, about the video Richie had sent him, about all those things Richie had said about filling Eddie up—he felt himself clench down on nothing, desperate to get fucked. Desperate to feel Richie’s cock so deep inside of him.

“Richie,” he whined into the kiss, pulling on Richie’s belt loops, “please.” He pressed himself urgently against Richie and rutted shamelessly against his thigh.

“Fuck, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was cocky and teasing, but there was an apparent undercurrent of wonder there as well.

Eddie shoved his face into Richie’s neck and whined, grabbing onto Richie’s wrists without even knowing what his goal was. “Richie,” he whimpered, sounding pitiful and ruined already.

“What do you want, baby?” Richie’s voice made it clear that he was enjoying seeing Eddie this wrecked, and that just made Eddie even harder. “Come on, tell me, use your words.”

Eddie squirmed as Richie held him close, but still not touching him in any relieving way. “I need you inside,” Eddie said, his voice high and soft as he squirmed in Richie’s grip. “God, please, Richie, need you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard I can’t even think. Fuck me like I’m your little toy.”

Eddie could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, and judging by the gasp he heard Richie let out, he’d caught Richie off guard too. But if the hard bulge in his jeans that brushed up against Eddie was any indication, he was apparently just as turned on as Eddie was. Besides, Eddie knew from his blog that Richie was really into that sort of thing too—and, apparently, really into the idea of doing those things with Eddie. The realization that Richie had been saying all those filthy things about him had him grinding against him with even more fervor, kissing his neck with a heated confidence. Richie moaned, and Eddie could feel the warmth of it spreading through him. “Yeah, sweetheart? You want to feel me inside you? You think you’re ready for me?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed, looking up at Richie with wide, desperate eyes. He shivered at the new look in Richie’s eyes, the blue nearly entirely eclipsed by how wide his pupils were. He looked hungry for Eddie; Eddie wanted to feel it. “‘M ready, Richie, please, so open for you.” He looked to the toy on his bed pointedly, but Richie only gave a deep laugh.

“Oh honey, that’s cute that you think that little thing is gonna have you ready for my cock.” Eddie’s breath caught; that toy wasn’t small. Before he could gather his scattered brain enough to react, Richie was scooping him up and tossing him on the bed, the toy falling forgotten to the floor. Richie moved Eddie onto his back, and Eddie went happily, pliantly. Richie’s fingers were cool against Eddie’s burning skin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Eddie’s shorts, slowly dragging them over his hips and down his legs, tossing them to the floor. Eddie’s cock was dripping with precome, his chest flushed a bright red as he squirmed under Richie’s gaze. Eddie been dreaming of Richie manhandling him like this for he didn’t even know how long; he couldn’t help the way he reacted. And he especially couldn’t help the pleased little sound he made when Richie murmured, “God, you’re gorgeous, Eds.” Then Richie was grabbing him by the ankles, gently but firmly spreading Eddie’s legs, and Eddie let out the most pathetic, genuine moan he’d ever heard. “Fuck, baby, you sound pretty. You like when I spread you open?” Richie asked. He was smirking down at Eddie, but Eddie could see how flushed he was, could see the thrilled awe in his dark, hungry eyes as Eddie nodded.

“Richie, please,” Eddie whimpered. “I need you so bad.” He sat up, reaching for Richie’s belt, but Richie easily pressed him back against the mattress with a large hand on the center of his chest. The confidence in Richie’s dominance took Eddie’s breath away, and he stayed right where he was, nice and obedient, as he watched Richie get off the bed and slowly undo his belt, then his button and zipper. He took his time dragging his jeans and boxers off, enough time to let Eddie’s eyes linger on the reveal of the dark hair under Richie’s waistband. Then Richie’s cock was bouncing up against his stomach, hard and flushed and fucking long. Eddie moaned at the sight and fisted the sheets underneath him. He wanted so badly to get his mouth on Richie, to breathe him in and be nice and good for Richie on his knees. But he was also desperate to get fucked; his hole clenched down on nothing at the thought, and then it was all he could think about again. “Richie,” he repeated, whining now as he reached for him. “Stop being such a tease.”

Richie laughed as he moved easily out of Eddie’s grip and climbed on top of him. Eddie gasped softly at the sight of Richie above him, his dark curls surrounding his face, his full, pink lips pulled into the most beautiful smile Eddie had ever seen in his life. He ran his hands over Richie’s chest and sides, marveling at the fact that this was really happening. Then, his eyes flickering down, he tentatively brought his hand to Richie’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” they said, both at the same time, making them giggle together.

“Fuck, Eds, your pretty little hand looks so cute wrapped around my cock,” Richie teased in a low, rough voice. Eddie shivered; he couldn’t tell if Richie was praising him or degrading him, but either way it made his head fuzzy.

“‘M not that little,” Eddie grumbled out of habit. But he was clearly breathless. He’d never been good at pretending not to like Richie’s compliments, however teasing.

“Aw, but you are, baby,” Richie cooed, nuzzling his nose against Eddie’s and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “You’re so cute and tiny for me. I don’t even know if we’ll be able to fit my cock inside you.”

“I can,” Eddie whined, both indignant and impatient. He bucked his hips up, but Richie held him down. He gasped when he felt the warm, soft skin of Richie’s cock press against his stomach. Looking down, he saw that Richie had his cock lying on Eddie’s stomach, showing just how deep he would be once he was inside Eddie.

“You sure about that, babydoll?” While the teasing note was still there, Richie’s voice got noticeably softer as he said, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Eddie’s chest swelled at that. Cupping Richie’s face in his hands, he insisted, “I can take it.” Then he reached down and took Richie in his hand, glowing with pride when Richie let out a low moan. “Richie, please, I want you so bad.”

“Okay, baby,” Richie agreed, turning his head to kiss Eddie’s palm. “Fuck, I want you, too.” But he stalled. “Have you ever… like, been fucked before?”

Eddie flushed. “Well, not by someone else, but I have some toys. I’m not gonna break, Richie.” He huffed, but the way Richie was looking at him soothed any ruffled feathers.

“I’m your first?” His smile was soft, and while his eyes glittered, there was nothing teasing about his tone.

“I didn’t wanna do it with anyone else,” Eddie mumbled. He tried to look away, but Richie pulled him into a kiss.

“Fuck, I never thought you’d want me,” he chuckled. “Sorry, that was depressing, I just mean I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner, you know?”

Eddie beamed, a small, giddy giggle dancing on his lips. “Well it’ll happen sooner if you stop talking so much.” But his smile, and all of the little kisses he planted on Richie’s freckled shoulders told Richie that Eddie never wanted him to stop talking.

“Alright, alright, sheesh, I know I’m hot but you don’t gotta rush me.” Eddie was still giggling when Richie kissed him, and he could feel that Richie was smiling too. “Where’s your lube?”

Eddie stretched his hand out and patted the bed for a moment, searching. After what was probably only four seconds but felt like an eternity, he finally found the bottle and handed it eagerly to Richie. “Oh, right,” Richie smirked, “you’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” Eddie moaned as Richie swiped his fingers over Eddie’s slick hole, pressing in just a bit. His fingers went in easily, and he pumped them slowly, drawing little, breathy moans out of Eddie. Richie’s fingers were a lot longer and thicker than his own, and they felt amazing, but they weren’t what he wanted in that moment.

“Richie, fuck me,” he whined.

“Aw, no please? Again?” Richie tsked and shook his head, curling his fingers against Eddie’s prostate, making him cry out. “I told you, sweetheart, only good boys who use their manners get fucked.”

“Please,” Eddie cried. He rocked his hips and grabbed at Richie’s shoulders, at his arms, not even sure what his goal was there other than to get Richie closer, to get his attention, to show him how desperate he was. “Please fuck me, please.” He sounded pathetic begging like this, but that just made him harder. And it made Richie’s pupils even wider as he slid his fingers out of Eddie and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Good boy,” he purred. Eddie moaned and arched into Richie’s touch, but he only gave Eddie one more kiss on his cheek before pulling back and covering his cock in lube. Eddie watched, entranced, as Richie’s hand moved smoothly over his cock, glistening and slick. Then Richie was gently spreading Eddie’s legs even further and pressing the head of his cock against Eddie’s hole.

“Yes,” Eddie whimpered brokenly, grasping at the sheets beneath him. “Richie, please.” Meeting his gaze, he said softly, “I need you.”

“I’ve got you,” Richie assured him in a voice that made Eddie feel like he was glowing. Richie took Eddie’s hand in his and entwined their fingers, using his other hand to guide his cock inside of Eddie, who gasped at the feeling. God, he couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe his first time was going to be with his favorite person. He couldn’t believe he was finally getting exactly what he wanted. Love flooded through him, warm and perfect, somehow both soothing and electrifying as he watched Richie’s face. Eddie’s mouth dropped as Richie pressed into him, deeper and deeper and still fucking deeper, until finally Richie let out a low moan and Eddie felt absolutely breathless. The stretch was intense, and he held onto Richie tightly as he caught his breath. “Are you alright?” Richie asked. His voice was strained, but the care and concern in it was clear. “You don’t have to take all of it if it’s too much.”

Eddie wanted to laugh at the remark or roll his eyes, but with how breathless and dizzied by pleasure he already was, he had to admit Richie had a point. “Just need a minute,” he gasped. Richie ran a soothing hand over Eddie’s skin, helping him even out his breathing and relax. The feeling of Richie’s cock twitching in anticipation inside of him had him letting out little moans as he adjusted, getting more and more used to the feeling until he felt comfortable enough to tell Richie he could move. Richie kissed him before he did, his lips soft against Eddie’s, a reassuring weight. Eddie breathed in sharply as Richie pulled back, grabbing at Richie’s shoulders.

Richie immediately stopped. “You okay, baby?” he asked, caressing Eddie’s face.

Eddie wanted to melt. Richie was always touching him, always jokingly flirting with him, but this unabashed concern and, well, love had previously been reserved for dire situations, like panic attacks or injuries. Eddie couldn’t help the dopey smile that bloomed on his face as he tilted his chin up and kissed Richie. “I’m okay,” he said breathlessly. “It’s just a little different from my vibrator.” They both gave a shaky laugh as Richie nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“Better, I hope?” he grinned.

“Can’t tell yet,” Eddie retorted. Another snarky comment was on the tip of his tongue when Richie pulled his hips further back, effectively sucking all the air—and attitude—from Eddie’s chest. And then Richie was pushing back in, and Eddie let out a moan he couldn’t have faked if he tried, relaxing back into the mattress as his eyes fell shut. It was the best thing he’d ever felt, pleasure and relief flooding through his body. They’d been building up this tension for years; Eddie had figured it would feel good to break it, but it really felt magical, like something had just clicked into place. Feeling Richie inside of him, rocking his hips carefully, feeling Richie twitch as he tried not to lose control had Eddie’s head reeling. Eddie’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on Richie above him, on how flushed his face was. When Richie met his eye, pressing in deep, Eddie let out a small, “Fuck.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

Richie was smirking as he said it, but there was something else sparkling in his eyes. Something giddy and awed. Something that made Eddie sigh dreamily, “I love you.”

Richie’s eyes widened for a moment before he pressed his lips firmly against Eddie’s, his hands roaming over Eddie’s body like he couldn’t choose where to put them, where to touch him. “I love you so much,” he beamed, pressing a few more kisses to Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie giggled at the feeling, but then Richie’s hips moved just a little faster, pressing him in just a little deeper, and he was back to melting under Richie’s touch, clinging to him as he rocked his hips with Richie’s. “Fuck, you’re so amazing, baby, so fucking beautiful. You look so good like this, holy shit.”

Eddie smiled almost drunkenly at Richie’s ability to ramble even when blowing Eddie’s mind. “Feels so good,” he moaned, his voice breathy and just a little bit higher than normal. He wrapped his legs around Richie’s waist. “Please, Richie, please.”

“Fuck, baby, wanna make you feel like this all the fucking time,” Richie groaned as he picked up the pace. Eddie whined in pleasure at the change, and that just spurred Richie to go faster, harder, until he was well and truly fucking Eddie, both of them moaning with every thrust.

“Oh my god,” Eddie cried, “ohmygodohmygodhmygod, oh fuck, Richie, please.” It felt so amazing, Richie fucking into him like this, but he needed that little bit more. His cock was throbbing desperately, achingly hard; he needed to feel Richie’s hand on him. “Richie, please,” he whimpered, “please, please touch me. I need you, I need you so bad, please, Richie.” Eddie was pouting now, grabbing aimlessly at Richie, his legs still wrapped tight around him.

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me,” Richie marveled, his voice sweet and condescending as he wrapped his hand around Eddie’s cock. Eddie nearly screamed at the contact, his back arching off the bed. Richie laughed a little, which just made Eddie even harder. The way Richie spread his precome over his cock, twisting his wrist just so as he stroked him had that familiar tension coiling in his lower stomach. “Aw, does that feel good? You gonna come on my cock, kitten?”

“Fuck, yes!” Eddie screamed. He gripped at the sheets as Richie stroked him, his voice washing over Eddie, mixing with the pleasure of Richie’s touch, of his thrusts. “Yes, yes, yes, please let me come, please, please, please.”

“That’s a good boy,” Richie purred, and Eddie could feel himself tipping over the edge at the words, at how low and affected Richie’s voice was. He groaned out, “Come on my cock like a good boy, princess,” and pure pleasure crashed over Eddie like a wave. He arched his back and cried out as he came, his moans filling the room as he squirmed under Richie, grabbed at him, at the sheets. It was fucking ethereal. He felt somehow so in tune with his body and yet so detached, like he was floating. He was barely cognizant of what Richie was saying, but when he put the sounds together and realized Richie had just said, panting, “Fuck, baby, gonna come,” Eddie felt like a live wire again.

“In me,” he said urgently. His mind was still a little too scattered for full sentences, but he knew what he wanted. God, he felt like he needed it. Like he needed to feel that connected to Richie. “Richie, come inside me, please.”

Richie apparently didn’t need to be told twice; he let out a moaned, “Oh, fuck,” before burying his face in Eddie’s neck, his breathy moans like music in Eddie’s ear. And then, as Eddie was coming down from his own high, he felt the holiest thing in the world: Richie’s cock, twitching inside of him, then his warm come filling Eddie up. It was unreal, being this close to him. Richie clutching at him as he came. It was even better than the little fantasies Eddie occasionally allowed himself. Richie was here, in his arms, pressing kisses to his neck as he caught his breath. Eddie was stroking his hair and rubbing his back as Richie nuzzled into him. Richie’s skin pressed against his skin, his legs wrapped around Richie’s waist, then falling to his sides, but still pressed to him. Still keeping him close. There wasn’t a single thought in his head that wasn’t about Richie.

Richie pulled him from his dreamy haze with light kisses pressed up his jaw, then over his cheeks. Eddie giggled at the onslaught of affection, still reeling from how fucking hot and euphoric what they had just done together had been. But he happily accepted Richie’s kisses, his heart bursting, then racing as Richie pulled back to look in his eyes. “Holy, fuck,” Richie beamed, his face flushed and blue eyes hooded from the weight of his orgasm, even as they sparkled.

“I know,” Eddie said, returning Richie’s grin as he basked in the surreality of having Richie on top of him, his dorky yet charming smile framed by lips that were red and swollen because of Eddie. His glasses were knocked askew, and Eddie instinctively reached up to fix them. With a sense of wonder, he realized that his touch was allowed to linger this time. He ran his fingers down Richie’s cheekbones, over his jaw, cupped his cheeks. “I love you,” he said. The words spilled out over his lips like he couldn’t stand not to say them. And while it made his heart race a little to say it out loud now that the adrenaline and tension was all worked through, it felt even better this time when Richie’s face softened and he nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“I love you so fucking much.” Richie’s voice rarely got that soft, that sincere; it felt like a blanket wrapping around Eddie. It felt safe, secure. It felt like a promise. And if there was anyone in the world Eddie knew he could trust, it was Richie. That feeling of everything coming together came back to Eddie as he lay there under Richie, their lips moving together, feeling light as a feather now that everything was finally out in the open.

#reddie #notsfw #reddie smut #reddie fic

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jollyviscreal666 · 2 years ago

Text

Once there was a boy named Jimmy. He lives in Athens, Georgia and is an average teenager in his third year of high school. He does pretty well in school. He’s very popular, chill, and most of the students like him. Above all interestingly, he likes talking to girls the most. Currently he has a crush on a girl named Breanna. To him she’s his most difficult challenge yet. They chat on MySpace a lot. Part of it was the fact that it seemed that she never had time to talk to him. ‘Why not, I’m a great guy,’ thought Jimmy. That thought was followed by, ‘I bet it’s because she’s busy with other guys’.

One of Jimmys hobbies is gawking At Breannas pics on MySpace. Especially the hot ones. ‘She is so sexy’, he thinks to himself while gawking. Jimmy is known for being sly and smooth with the ladies. Not to mention adept at flirting.

He is careful to maintain his popularity. He veers away from anything or anyone that so much gives off a hint of what has the capability of making him infamous. His best friend at school is named Sam. They pretty much rely on each other for everything. They hang out almost every day and stick with each other when some shit goes down.

Sam implies that he too is into females, but also implies that Jimmys appetite for the girls is too peculiar. ‘give them a second to breathe’ ,he would say. Jimmy always counters that Sam needs to get out more. They were only joking of course.

Jimmy lives with his mother and father. The next door neighbors are immensely acquainted with them you could say. Jimmy loves his mother most above all. He always supported her and is in acknowledgment that she’s a great mother. His father on the other hand was a bit strange. Jimmy loves him, but there is something out of line that he couldn’t put his finger on. He seems to spend too much time at work and comes home acting a bit weird. He also seemed to be having issues with his job. He argued with Jimmy’s mother. Sometimes it was very serious. This makes him curious about what the hell goes around in his fathers work. It stresses him out. Almost more than his younger brother, Max.

Max is two years younger than Jimmy. Their relationship is nowhere near healthy. Perhaps a small factor may be because of the fact Max was adopted. They find it impossible to get along. Even to live together. They argue seemingly 24/7. Every now and then, they’ll come to terms, but not often. They try to keep it out of their social lives at school. Meaning they refrain from establishing their presence to one another. However, one time Max got In the way of Jimmys interactions, and ever since then it’s been a war of revenge per person. Endless wise, Jimmy became sick of it. Max didn’t understand that he had nothing to lose. Jimmy actually interacted in his school. He went out on dates. He was invited to parties. Max didn’t have to deal with any of that. The result of that fact means whenever Jimmy got the chance to humiliate Max and put him down, he took. Max crossed the line. Jimmy made a vow to make Maxes life miserable no matter what.

Max did attempt to make friends, and get a girlfriend such as Jimmy always does. However, every attempt to do so was foiled by Jimmy. Even when Max presented his skills, the crowd usually disowned him. Both personally and in the popularity list. Max had no idea of what to do. He knew his life would always be ruined. The only skills he possessed were minor magic tricks. Jimmy would frequently remind him of what a loser he was. That no one wound ever want him. Jimmy would go deep Into detail. Sometimes the aftermath of the harassment rendered Max consciously hopeless. Even Maxes couple friends he had stayed away from him. Some even never talked to him again. Max seemingly lost all hope.

Max went to rely on the only person who would feel real sympathy for him: Carrie, The neighbors niece. She was very strange. Decently attractive but mentally unstable. One year younger than Max, they hung out almost every time she was over for the holidays and summer time. Max tried his very hardest to conceal his relationship with Carrie. To be sly. He was extremely careful. No telling what horrors Jimmy would spit out if he saw them together.

As Max ranted to Carrie, she apparently fondled with her red hair. She was probably getting nervous or bored. One or the other. They were surprisingly at Maxes house. Everyone was gone for the evening. His mother at a church meeting, his father working, and Jimmy with Sam preparing for the schools event. Strangely, a package arrived. Carrie pointed it out. Max gestured for her to help him open it. It was in a 5 ft well sealed cardboard box.

“What the hell is this?”, said Max. He pulled the mini papers taped onto the front of the package. He checked the destination. Nothing. Then the initial location. Nothing.

They finally got it open.

“What the fuck!”, Exclaimed Max. Carrie got a little frantic.

“I f- fucking hate it”, She said uneasily twisting ends of her hair on each side of her head.

“Who wouldn’t”, replied Max.

“Who and why the fuck would someone send this here”, said Max filled with genuine surprise in his tone.

Carrie replied trembling more than usual.

“Jimmys friends ?”, offered Carrie.

“That’s a good answer, but how the fuck would they have pulled it off? The usp guy just handed this to us”, implied Max.

Max started to feel a cough coming on. His lungs automatically felt irritated. He began to have a coughing fit as if he was dying. Carrie tried to calm him while looking for stuff, but nothing helped. His face became pale and he fainted. Carrie called Max’s parents and they came right over, thanked her, and took Max to the hospital. They ruled it out as an intense asthmatic breakdown due to overwhelming amounts of stress. They didn’t bother to inform Jimmy. That and they knew he probably wouldn’t care.

The night came when Jimmy and Sam went to the high school party/event. Jimmy returned home to find the house empty. He shrugged it off, at first. He thought nothing of it. He got onto his big HD laptop in his room upstairs. Prior to logging in to MySpace, a Yahoo story popped up. He gave it a quick glance and decided to take a peep at the article. It was about the recent disappearances of children in the area. ‘People’, thought Jimmy, shaking his head. Jimmy logged into MySpace and began watching some music videos, checking his messages, and reading interesting blog stories. Soon he began chatting with his crush Breanna. She said she had to go a few minutes after IM chatting. Xoxo was her final signature. Jimmy set his elbow on his desk and put his chin down to his palm. He began browsing the posts and connects on the blog stories. Then he got a story invite. It was labeled #1 hot topic on the site. According to the tags, it was shared many times. The original issuer was not listed. The comments implied the story was creepy and disturbing. As soon as Jimmy clicked to pull it up, another mini page came up. It was pink. ‘WARNING: DO NOT READ: click on the X’, was written on the mini page. He clicked out of it and read the story anyway.

The story was about a guy who dresses up like a clown and slaughters kids and puts their heads in a special bag after gaining their trust. Apparently he’s the candidate upon the inspection that says he’s a known serial killer. He was blamed for the children’s disappearances. A current father of one of the children apparently hunted him down and blew his head off. There were even pictures of the dead body of the clown killer. Graphic and grotesque. ‘Photoshop’, thought Jimmy. The most conspicuous part of the story was the ending. It said that the friend of the last kid of the father who the killer murdered began to have uncontrollable nightmares. He began to believe that the clown killer is actually not dead and that he even sees him sometimes. On that note, there was a newsletter informing what the kid was experiencing. Then it said now that you saw his body, he’ll be coming to haunt you too. Jimmy let out an amusing smirking grunt. He thought it was pretty stupid and ridiculous. ‘Definitely fake, though,’ thought jimmy. ‘It’s gotta be’. Although he tried to act tough such as if the story meant nothing, he knew it was chilling and unsettling. He shrugged it off. He went to lay on his bed to relax.

Then out of nowhere, a hideous, light demonic clown like laugh filled the atmosphere. It sounded as if it was downstairs in the garage or something. Jimmy immediately rose up and shook his head. He rubbed his ears as well also to ensure himself. He sat up the next 10 seconds, heard nothing, then lied back down. He shrugged it off as his imagination due to what he just read.

It’s been three hours since he’s read the story. Nobody’s home. Breanna, who’s usually online, isn’t even connected. Jimmy had the computer hibernated 2 hours ago. His lights were out. He attempted to crash for the night. He tried his best to not think of the stupid clown story, but for some strange reason he found it difficult. The more he thought about it, the more unsettling it became. He slept- when he was awakened by a monstrous, possibly mind induced gust followed by that creepy, demonic clown laugh. He immediately rose up and turned on the lights. It’s 1:38 on a Saturday Night. Jimmys first thought was to lay back down, but changed his mind once he thought of how he was awoken. He made his way downstairs. He turned the lights on. He spotted a sticky note he missed earlier on the fridge. It read, ‘ We took Max to the hospital’, please remain here till we get back’, Love mom’. It was indeed in his mother’s handwriting. The doorbell rang seemingly out of nowhere. Jimmy tried to hide his facade for company as he went to get the door. He opened to find Carrie standing there looking as tired as he was. The awkward thing about this still was that she was holding the 5 foot toy clown.

“Carrie? What the Hell are you doing here at this time”, he demanded. Without changing her expression, she held out her arms containing the weird toy.

“Max said this was yours”, she said innocently. Jimmy shook his head. Before he could reply, she spoke.

“He says he wants you to remember him, and that he’s sorry”. Upset and too tired to to ask questions, he accepted her offer and shut the door in her face. He never thought much of Carrie so why give a shit? He looked at the face of the clown, disgusted.

“What the literal hell is wrong with these people”, he said, disgusted. He set it on the kitchen floor and put four of the couch cushions on it to cover its whole visage. He walked back upstairs. When he entered his room he froze in horror to the toy clown sitting on his bed. Not knowing how to react, he immediately picked the clown up and threw it down the stairs with brute force. He proceeded to brutally thrash it around. Kick it, punch it, and yell at it. He stuffed it into the trash can and piled all the trash he could find on top of it. He locked the top of the can with a chain and a lock. When he went back to his room, the clown was sitting in the same spot he saw it before, only closer to the edge. This time he felt as if he was ready to pass out. He refrained as his heart felt as if it was going to tear itself from his chest. Jimmy ran downstairs not bothering to touch the clown. He pulled out his phone and dialed Sam. He kept a close look on the stairway leading up to his room. Sweat ran down his face. Sam picked up.

“Dude, What do you want? It’s four in the morning” demanded Sam with exhaustion.

“Just shut up and get your ass over here. I got something fucked that’s definitely worth our while”, replied Jimmy. Sam sighed.

“Alright. Be over in 10”. In the meantime Jimmy paced anxiously and tried to come up with reasonable ideas that made it so his mind could cope with the fact this toy clown is appearing from one place to another. ‘The heinous acts it performs has to have some sort of drive behind it’ he thought trying to sooth his feelings. In reality the fact of the fact is It’s downright terrifying.

Sam rung the doorbell. Jimmy let him in.

“Alright, this better be good”, said Sam.

“No, it’s NOT good. It’s downright horrifying!” Exclaimed Jimmy.

“What is it”? Demanded Sam. Jimmy turned his head to find the clown slouched where the staircase began.

“Really? Are you serious? Is this a fucking joke?” said Sam with ridicule.

“No, asshole, wherever you put it, it moves when you leave, to another location”, scolded Jimmy. Sam had a look of ridicule and concern on his face toward Jimmy. Jimmy shook his head.

“Alright. Let me show you”! Began Jimmy. As soon as they turned their heads the clown was no longer there at the entrance of the staircase. Jimmy pointed it out. Sams mouth hung open in shock.

“Holy shit”! Exclaimed Sam with fear in his voice.

“I think I’m scared shitless”.

“Tell me about it”, replied Jimmy. Sam turned to Jimmy.

“We have to destroy that thing”, demanded Sam.

“I tried to trash it heavily already”, countered Jimmy.

“Have you actually tried to DESTROY it”? Demanded Sam.

They exchanged glances. They made their way up the stairs. The toy clown, seemingly out of nowhere, fell or jumped from the ceiling where its presence was not detected, onto Sams back.

“Fuck! Get it off”!! Panicked Sam.

Sam elbowed it off of him after his thrashing fit.

“Let’s hurry before it goes again”! Demanded Jimmy.

One glance was all it took for the toy clown to vanish from their sights.

“Shit”! Exclaimed Jimmy.

“I’m not taking any more chances. As soon as I see it, I’m going to burn the fucker completely into ashes”! Promised Sam.

They eventually saw it posted somewhere. They immediately grabbed it and threw it into the fire place. They lit the gas heater after inserting firewood. They watched it burn. Their frantic minds even calmed down it was so relieving.

They went up to Jimmys room. Jimmy got on his huge monitor computer, and Sam just looked at his phone on Jimmys bed.

“Hey bro, I’m going down to get me a snack. Do you want anything”? Asked Sam.

Jimmy shook his head, eyes glued to the computer. After 45 minutes, Jimmy decided to check on Sam. He had a smile on his face as he descended the stairs. That smile turned into a frown of horror. Sams head was crammed into the fridge. A long pool of blood staring from Sams body, reached all the way where the entrance to the staircase was. His throat had been cut. Jimmy felt anguish and fear like none other. He zoomed upstairs and shut his door. He locked the door. He frantically pulled his phone out dropping it a few times. Then seemingly out of nowhere, diagonally behind Jimmy, the clown appeared and latched onto Jimmy. Jimmy fell back in shock. The toy clown then jabbed a knife into Jimmys ribs. It went in pretty deep. When thrusted out, a splatter of blood became apparent on the wall and the computer monitor screen. Mostly the monitor. On the monitor was Breannas chat box opened. It read:

“Jimmy, I said yes. I’ll marry you for that. Hehe. No seriously”.

“Jimmy you ok”?

“Alright, fuck you then. I’ll just find someone better to talk to”.

The chat box closed.

8 notes · View notes

1kook · 5 years ago

Text

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock.

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #jjk smut #bts smut #mine

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years ago

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What if... Family Portrait

(Excuse me while I DIE because the art deity @cacodaemonia was so incredibly kind to create a What-If version of the Fearsome Four pic that Davarax took before he was ripped away from them. Well, here you have the Devoted Dad, Mama Bear, and their Fearsome Five! The cuteness, the adorableness, the PERFECTION is killing me! Davarax’ and Dulcy’s smiles (his slightly slanted grin and her big happy one, aaaah) and their hair (I worship the floof!) and their eyes (So kind, how??) and their armour (sessayh!) and... *flails* All of it!! And sweet, adorable, big eyed Corin, still a little more timid than his rambunctious siblings... PERFECT, I SAY! And to think this is what Corin could have had... Well, in the What-if, this is what he does have!)

A hundred years ago, I promised Davarax’ POV when Dulcy was kidnapped. Apologies for the unforgivably long wait, but I hope the fact that it was meant to be four pages and ended up closer to thirteen can make up for it a little?

What If... we saw it through Davarax’ eyes?

Davarax lowers Zurf to the floor with his grip on his wrist instead of slamming him to the ground like he usually does after managing to flip him over. Letting go, he then backs up, lifts his hands into the air to acknowledge the roar of approval from the other seven Mandalorians present in the training room and nods at the mix of praise aimed his way and the mockery flying Zurf’s way.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Belitz calls out, gesturing for everyone to settle down while he walks towards Davarax. “What was that, Davarax?”

Grinning, Davarax starts backing towards the exit. “That? That I believe was a win.”

“Since when do you coddle your opponent?” Belitz demands to know and follows, trailing after the scent of possible juicy news like a Corellian hound. “What’s up with you?”

“I’m not allowed to be in a good mood?” Davarax drawls, still grinning, still backing up.

“I’ve experienced you in a good mood.” Belitz states. “This is not you in a good mood. You in a good mood is merely spraining bones instead of breaking them. This? This is something else. What happened?”

Davarax snorts amused. He will die before he tells them anything.

“It’s that woman, isn’t it? The outsider.” Pagyle shouts from the other side of the room. Her voice soaked with glee. “She’s got you soft.”

Finally reaching the exit, Davarax does an extravagant bow. “I win. I leave. See you tomorrow, losers.” And then he flees, laughing out loud at the wave of questions and suggestive howling that follows him.

They are right and they are wrong. Wrong, because Davarax ‘is’ in a good mood. Extremely good mood. Honestly, he’s drunk on happiness. And his sparring partners are right, because he does owe the glow in his chest and the smile on his lips to Dulsissia.

Davarax can’t stop himself from bringing up the memory of her looking at him with open affection, the sensation of her fingers braiding with his, as well as the lazy bliss of just having her close and feeling her breathe. And that was just the memories from last night.

He’s never felt anything like this for anyone before. He’s never met anyone like her before.

Over a year with him on a different planet and yet Dulsissia had waited for him. Davarax doubts she knows how much her messages had helped him through that year. She has no idea how many times he replayed those holos during the moments when the darkness curled up in his chest from missing her and his other three kids so much he could barely breathe. How he dreaded what he would come back home to. Every day he woke up thinking that would be the day he learned he’d lost her.

Davarax had believed her when Dulsissia said she’d wait, but life happens and he wouldn’t have blamed her if she had found someone else… but she didn’t. She kept the children safe, handled life in the Covert like she’d grown up there and welcomed him back like she had missed him every bit as much as he’d missed her. If anything, it seems like her feelings for him were even stronger.

It gives him hope. Maybe one day, please let it happen, he’ll be able to defeat the demons from her past, rebuild the trust Macero Valentis had shattered, and take his helmet off for her.

Davarax’ happiness lasts until there is a knock on his door, hours later as he’s about to get ready for the day’s training session with the children, and he opens it to find Corin and Din looking up at him with almost identical anxious facial expressions.

“Is… Is my mom here?” Corin asks in a thin voice.

Davarax frowns. “No?” It’s late afternoon, a time she usually spends with her son, and he hasn’t seen her since she left his room last night. “Why are you asking?”

Corin fidgets. “Me and Din were working on a project with Barthor. Mom was supposed to come pick me up, but she never showed. A-and when we went back to my room, she wasn’t there either.”

Unease instantly coils around Davarax’ heart. There is no way Dulsissia would forget picking up Corin. She wouldn’t. If something came up, something so serious it couldn’t wait, she would have asked Davarax or someone else to bring a message to Corin and make sure he was okay.

Something is wrong.

Corin and Din already look horribly nervous and as Davarax doesn’t want to upset them further he keeps his thoughts to himself. He clears his throat and tries to sound calm. “Okay, listen…” Davarax tries to think and not just react. “I’ll ask around. She probably got caught up in something.” He considers his options and gestures the boys inside. “You two wait here. Okay?”

Sniffling, Corin seems to be very much aware of the seriousness of the situation and simply stands there, head lowered, until Din places his arm around him and leads him into the room.

Davarax takes a step out but pauses to look back at the boys. “And, uh, don’t touch the weapons.” While he trusts them, he also can’t ignore the fact that there are explosives in his room strong enough to send them all to Mandalore That Was.

Din nods. Corin merely sniffles again.

Davarax rushes towards the people he knows Dulcy has the most contact with. Decco hasn’t seen her all day, neither had the next one he asks, but then he gets his first lead.

“I think she went above?” Ayah says, shrugging. “I saw her walking down the hallway with that basket of hers this morning.”

This makes the unease grow stronger. Davarax stalks towards the stairs and enters the city above to set course to where he knows she usually sets up her little stand to sell her cookies.

The sun is shining over Nevarro, the HUD lists the temperatures uncomfortably high, so it shouldn’t be surprising that few people are walking around, but it still fuels Davarax’ unease and makes him wonder if something had scared people indoors. He pauses for half a second when he turns the corner and sees she’s not there. Dulcy is not in her spot. There’s not a single soul in the street. His heart drops. Cold sweat starts to break out at the back of his neck. She’s not there! But, his eyes focuses on the ground, but there is ‘something’ there…

Walking over, Davarax kneels down. He reaches down and brushes some sand away so he can pick up what had caught his attention.

It’s a piece of a cookie.

Staring at it, Davarax swallows down his ever increasing sense of doom and forces himself to look around on the ground. He sees more pieces. Like someone had dropped a bag of them on the ground and then stepped on it. His heartbeats feel like punches inside his chest. Fear. Raw fear. What had happened here?

“Are you looking for the nice cookie lady?” A voice asks.

Davarax looks up and sees a scruffy mercenary standing a small distance away, leaning against the wall next to him and munching away on a cookie with the few teeth he has left. Davarax stands up and drops the piece he had been holding. “Yes. Have you seen her?”

The mercenary nods, chewing thoughtfully. “She was her earlier.”

“Did you see where she went?” Davarax asks.

“The Imp took her away.” A different voice replies. It’s another mercenary. She has a small bag of Dulcy’s cookies hanging from her belt, next to grenades and what looks like small bones. She has more teeth than the other guy. A lot more teeth. Sharp ones.

“What Imp?” Davarax presses on, refusing to acknowledge how panic is starting to set in. He’d told Dulcy she was safe. He’d told her not to be afraid of going into the city because they’d know if Valentis showed up. Had Macero Valentis taken her away?

“An officer.” The first mercenary replies. “He had a whole bunch of those stormtroopers with him. Nothing we could do.” A slight frown settles between his eyebrows. “Seemed like she knew him.”

Davarax closes his eyes, forces himself to stay calm despite being horrified and enraged at the same time, then he exhales and opens them again. “Did you see where they were going?”

“The army base.” The second mercenary informs him. “I hope you find her. She’s nice.”

Thanking them, Davarax heads below again and finds the one responsible for supervising the information coming in about the Imperial movement on the planet. It is another test of his willpower when he learns that he wasn’t warned because he’d told them to keep an eye out for someone who asked around about Dulcy and Corin or the arrival of a man by the name of Macero Valentis. No one had asked around about Dulcy and Corin, and Davarax had said nothing about a Vecon Valentis. They also inform Davarax that Vecon Valentis’ ship had left in a hurry hours ago.

Seething, Davarax barely resists unleashing his anger on these idiots, who probably weren’t too concerned about the safety of an outsider, and he stalks off to the one with the power to do something about this nightmare.

His sister.

Stepping into the Forge, smacking his hand on the button to close the door, Davarax does not kneel down. His heart his thumping like crazy. Dulcy is okay. Yeah, she’s okay. Dulcy is tough. She can handle herself until he can get to her. Please let her be okay. She has to be. Davarax yanks off his helmet. “The Imps got Dulcy.”

His sister pauses in her work, the golden helmet turns and her expressionless t-visor looks at him. “I was just informed.”

Davarax takes a step forward. “We have to go after them.”

There is a moment of silence and then she lowers her hammer and sets it aside. “No.”

Blinking, Davarax did not expect that answer. Okay, she had not been thrilled about Dulcy from the second he’d brought her home, finding her weak and whimsical, but he’d taken it for granted that she’d resent Imps taking someone under her protection. “Why not?”

“She’s an outsider.” His sister replies. Her voice is as emotionless as her helmet. “She’s not a Mandalorian. She’s not a Foundling. She’s not of this Covert. I will not risk the lives of our people for her. That is not the Way.”

Now Davarax is the one who needs a moment of silence and then he finds his voice again. “What about her son?”

“The boy is your Foundling.” Is the flat reply. “According to your reports, he shows promise as a fighter.”

Davarax nods thoughtfully, knowing there is no way he can change her mind. She’s not someone who changes her mind. He should know. “I will make arrangements that he’ll be taken care of if I don’t return.” He turns to leave.

“Where are you going?” Now there is a hint of sharpness in her voice.

Davarax stops, stares at the door and tries to sort out what he’s feeling. It’s like there is an imploding star inside his chest. It’s hard to breathe. “I’m going after her.”

“You are not.” That is an order.

“I am.” Davarax turns to face his sister again. He can’t lose Dulcy. He won’t. He refuses!

“You are staying here.”

“Or what?” Davarax snarls viciously, stepping forward, hands clenching and pure rage burning in his eyes.

She lifts her hands and removes her helmet. Her dark eyes and strong cheekbones, her hair that mix of brown and red, so similar to their mother she could be her twin. There is no mercy in her gaze. “You are staying here, brother. You are not going after her. She will lead you to your death.”

Davarax does not back down one inch. She was always meant to be the one to follow in their parents footsteps and he was to be her general, but this is an order he will not obey. “I love her vod. There is only one way you can stop me and you know it.” She is going to have to beat him unconscious and he will fight her with everything he’s got. “Try it!”

Her eyes narrow a tiny bit. For her, that is a huge red flag, revealing just how angry she is. Despite her detachment to most things, Davarax knows she loves him. She lets him get away with so much, stuff no other Mandalorian would dare to try under her rule, and she will knock him out if she thinks it will save his life.

But he will never forgive her if she stops him from saving Dulcy, his heart and future, and his sister must know this because she simply puts her helmet back on and turns away from him.

She won’t stop him, but he’s on his own. It hurts, but he’s not surprised.

Davarax puts his own helmet back on and walks out of the room.

Davarax is shaking. His head and his heart is in complete chaos.

He’s dreading what Dulcy is going through. Guilt is ripping him apart. She’d trusted him and now she is being brought back to the man who had almost ruined her and her son. Macero’s temper must be terrible, judging by how terrified she’d been when she thought he’d found them due to that lone stormtrooper, and Davarax can barely breathe when thinking about what the man will do to her if he gets his hands on her.

Davarax fights air into his lungs. Focus. He cannot undo what has happened, he needs to focus on what he can do. He needs his weapons and he has to explain to Corin what has happened and...

Davarax marches back to his room.

“Uncle Vecon…?” Corin goes pale as a sheet. His eyes fill up with more tears and his little frame start to tremble. “He’s… He’s going to take mom back to father. And he’s going to be sooo angry…”

“Hey.” Davarax takes a gentle hold of his shoulder and makes the boy look up at him. “Corin, listen to me, I won’t let that happen. Understand? I’m going to get your mom back. I promise you.” Corin looks up at him with complete trust despite the fear in his eyes. So young and yet painfully aware of the horrors his father is capable of. “You promise?”

Davarax nods, struggling to hide how much he wants to kill Corin’s father. The Galaxy would be a better place with one less monster in it. He pulls the boy in close and hugs him. “I promise.” And he fully intends to keep that promise. “But for me to do this, I need you to do me a huge favour.”

Nodding, Corin absently wipes a runaway tear from his face. “Okay.”

“What do you need us to do?” Din asks, ready to be Corin’s support pillar and Davarax feels a stab of pride as well as affection for the boy. His brave Foundling. Despite the horror he went through himself not too many years ago, Din doesn’t hesitate to support his friend. Like a true Mandalorian.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” Davarax doesn’t want to mention the possibility he might not come back at all. They are worried enough. “I need Corin to stay with… a friend of mine until I get back.”

Din lowers his gaze, knowing Davarax is not talking about his parents as they have made it clear they do not like outsiders and consider Corin very much as one. “I’ll… come along. Make sure he settles in.” “Thank you.” Davarax says. He’s not entirely thrilled about what he’s about to do, but it’s his least bad option out of a bunch of worse options. “Corin, let’s go by your room and pick up some stuff for a couple of days. Okay? We have to hurry.” Corin nods, meek and affable. He’s horribly pale and looks heartbreakingly shaken, but he is holding himself together despite having lost the person who means the most to him. He’s stronger than he knows, Davarax muses. One day that boy will grow up to be a powerful warrior.

They pick up some clothes and Corin’s datapad. Davarax notices a small pile of Din’s clothing lying on a chair in a corner and wonders just how much time the kid spends with Dulcy and Corin. Then they make their way down the hallway and head towards a door he really does not want to approach.

Davarax pushes the button to signal his presence. He doesn’t want to use the comm system and risk being shut down.

Nothing.

Sighing, Davarax pushes again. He doesn’t have time for this. Every second wasted means that Valentis guy dragging Dulcy farther and farther away and closer to her former husband.

Finally the door slides open and Davarax forces his spine straight. “I need a favour.”

A heavy silence follows before there is a slight shake of a blue helmet as if to reboot his brain before he’s able to speak. “You. You are asking Dez Vizla for a favour?”

Corin and Din exchange looks behind Davarax and he can almost hear what the kids are thinking. Why on earth would he bring Corin to Dez Vizla?

Well, Barthor’s parents would never agree to take him in. Neither would Din’s parents. And while the Saxons would say yes, he’s not entirely sure Corin would survive that. Decco’s illness causes days when she has no energy and might soon end her days all together. The Fighting Corps are constantly on the move and its members have no stability for a child. Dez Vizla may be an uptight and pompous jerk who likes to talk about himself in the third person and unfortunately treats his son like an adult instead of a child, but he rarely leaves the Covert, guards his wards with his life and will never turn his back on a Foundling in need. Plus, in his quarters, Corin will also have Paz to look after him day and night. Hopefully the stay won’t be for too long, but at least Corin will be safe and cared for.

“I need you to look after Corin for a bit.” Davarax says, trying to sound calm and confident.

Dez snorts a haughty laugh. “What?” He shakes his head again, still struggling to believe what he’s hearing. “You want… What?”

“Dulcy got snatched by Imps. They took her away.” Davarax explains in a tight voice, trying hard not to upset Corin. “I’m going to get her back.” He switches to Mando’a and hopes Corin doesn’t understand what he’s saying next. ”This is serious, Dez. I need your help. Keep him safe?”

Dez stares at him for a while, entirely still and unreadable, before he finally sighs and takes a step to the side to let Corin enter. “Get inside, boy. Now.”

Corin freezes, panics, and looks up at Davarax. As expected, he responds badly to Dez’ rough personality. Davarax is about to speak but Din beats him to it.

Din gives Corin a light nudge. “I’ll come with you. It’s okay.” He sends Dez a challenging look.

Dez snorts again, amused by the glare, and gives a nod. Fine. Din can come too.

Relieved, Davarax sees the two shuffle into the Vizla quarters and tells himself it won’t be the last time he sees them. He’s going to get Dulcy and then they will all be together again.

Davarax grabs his weapons and as many grenades and explosives as he can before he sets course for the Razor Crest. His heart is still thumping so hard he can almost feel it battering against the inside of his breastplate.

If Macero Valentis is a monster, his brother might be too. What if he has hurt Dulcy? What is she thinking about right now? Does she think Davarax has abandoned her or does she find comfort in the knowledge that he’ll come for her? Is she afraid? She’s tough, no doubt about that, but courage is not the absence of fear. Only a fool would not feel fear at times. And the mere thought of her being afraid burns Davarax’ heart like acid.

Lost in a hurricane of thoughts and emotions, Davarax doesn’t hear the voice calling out his name and is a bit startled when someone grabs him just as he’s about to step outside of the Covert. Snapping his visor over, Davarax is surprised to find Paz there.

“Is it true?” Paz says, breathless and agitated. “Dulcy’s gone? The Imps got her?”

Davarax exhales. “Yeah…” He has to gather himself and appear calm once again, not wanting to worry Paz either. “But I’m going to get her back. Don’t worry. You just make sure Corin is okay.”

Paz gulps for air as his agitation increases. “I’m coming with you.”

“What? No.” Davarax blinks when the boy bolts by him and stalks out of the Covert. “Paz! Paz, get back here.”

Marching towards the Razor Crest, Paz doesn’t slow down. “I’m coming with you!”

Davarax curses and trots after him, trying to persuade him to go back. Paz makes it all the way inside the ship’s cargo hold before Davarax loses his patience and grabs his arm.

“Paz, I don’t have time for this!” Davarax makes Paz’ visor focus on him. “Dulcy is in serious trouble. These Imps are dangerous.”

“I can fight!” Paz snaps back at him, his voice both angry and shaking.

“I know you can fight.” Davarax reassures him, a little impatiently. “But you are not coming with me. Go home, Paz. Look after Corin. And the others. Go!”

“No!” Paz shouts, but his next words are soft and broken. “She has to come back. She has to.” He struggles to keep speaking. “She’s always so nice to me. To all of us.”

“I know…” Davarax whispers. Paz had been abandoned by his birth mother all those years ago and now he is ready to rush into battle and get himself killed to avoid losing Dulcy. The only woman who had cared enough to act like an actual mother to him. “I’m going to get her back, Paz. I promise. But I have to go now.”

“I’m going with you.” Paz repeats in a stubborn reply.

Sighing, Davarax knows more words are pointless. While the helmet hides Paz’ face, he knows the boy well enough to hear in his voice and read from his body language when he’s too determined to be persuaded otherwise. “Go home, Paz.” He tightens his grip on his arm and drags him out of the ship, kicking and screaming.

Paz’ fury is frightful and Davarax is fairly certain if the boy had a weapon; he would have shot Davarax when he lifts the ramp and blocks him out of the ship. He might not forgive Davarax for this, but he will be safe and alive. And that is what Dulcy would want too.

Dulcy…

-You and Corin are safe here, he’d told her.

She had trusted him when he’d said they’d know if there was danger nearby. He’d told her those words because he’d believed them too. He’d failed to take idiocy and dislike towards outsiders into consideration. The idiots hadn’t meant for any harm to come to her, they just didn’t put any effort into the safety of an outsider.

She’s okay. Dulcy has to be okay. Davarax will get to her long before Macero Valentis does. He will. He won’t fail her, or the children, not as long as he breathes. Davarax had given up on having a family of his own beyond what time he was allowed to spend with his treasured troublemakers and he had settled for being a provider for other families instead, but then Dulcy entered his life and everything changed.

Davarax’ hands shake as he starts up the Razor Crest, driven by red hot fury at the ones who had taken Dulcy away and cold dark despair at the thought of her surrounded by enemies.

He’s going to get her back.

Going after the Imp ship is part guessing, part experienced calculations and part luck. There is no way for Davarax to know their exact route or destination as he has no clue where Macero Valentis is currently located, but he knows which routes are most commonly used by Imps ships as he tends to avoid them like the plague and he has contacts to ask along the way.

It feels strange to deliberately enter areas where he is bound to meet Imp ships.

Constant attacks has left the Imp army jumpy so there are a couple of ships who take his presence and him scanning them the wrong way. The Razor Crest has to make a run for it several times and ends up with scorch marks on her hull, but that’s not enough to make Davarax stop.

He can’t.

Eventually Davarax manages to lock on to the one moving against the stream of Imp ships and with single-minded determination as if there is some place it needs to be and as fast as possible. He can’t be sure, but his heart tells him he’s found his prey and Davarax always trusts his instincts.

Unaware of baring his teeth like a furious beast and the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing up, Davarax can only register one thought: the hunt has begun.

Food and sleep have become a distant memory on this trip. When did he eat or sleep last? Yesterday? The day before? He can’t remember and Davarax doesn’t care. He simply keeps pushing the Razor Crest and himself to catch up with the Imp ship before it reaches the clutches of Macero Valentis.

Eventually he does catch up with the ship.

Others tend to shake their head at Davarax’ attachment to the Razor Crest, but he knows what she’s capable of and how to us her strengths in ways that his enemies never expect. People underestimate his ship all the time and Davarax hopes they continue to do so – as it makes his victories all the more sweeter and drastically reduces the risk to his life and his ship’s safety.

When the Imp ship slows down, for whatever reason, Davarax goes for it.

Setting loose two decoys with signals meant to impersonate much larger ships than the Razor Crest, Davarax gives a powerful boost with his engine before powering down and hoping the forward momentum will bring him to where he needs to go; the landing dock on the Imp ship’s left flank.

It’s a move he’s only done twice before and he succeeded once, but Davarax decides to risk it.

Dulcy is right there. In that ship. And Macero Valentis is not, or there would have been a second ship to accompany them. There is still time to get her back.

The Razor Crest does not fail him. She slides through the darkness, under the Imp ship’s radar and drowsy attention, their arrogance brought on by them thinking themselves superior in every way can be quite helpful, and once she’s powered back up it only takes the gentlest of nudges to make her move up to where she can latch on to one of the boarding docks.

Davarax is on his feet before the attachment to the other ship is deemed secure by the Razor Crest’s sensors. Three blasters and an unseemly amount of explosives join his arsenal hidden in his armour.

It’s time to put all of his concern and anger into his weapons.

He goes for stealth at first. He needs to know where they are keeping Dulcy. And while Davarax knows he’s a skilled fighter, he’s just one man and this ship is crawling with soldiers. He needs to be clever about this and not let his anger rule him.

He’s told Din countless times to control his anger instead of letting his anger control him, and this is one of those situations where that could be the deciding factor of the outcome of the mission.

A drowsing guard is yanked around a corner and asked for information, but the guy isn’t much help and is left hidden inside a service closet. He is soon joined by two more.

It’s the fourth guard that finally gives Davarax the answers he is looking for.

Dulsissia Valentis is indeed on this ship. They are keeping Dulcy two levels below this one, in the last cell on the left side of the prison corridor. And there are plenty of guards.

There is no way he can get to her without being detected.

Davarax lets the guard fall to the floor and draws his blasters. Controlling your anger also means to know when it is time to let it loose.

It’s time.

It kind of becomes a red haze after that. Davarax makes his way through the soldiers and guards, using blasters and grenades and his flame thrower to remove them from his path, and every step brings him closer to Dulcy.

Nothing will stop him.

Nothing.

He plants several bombs in strategic places, aiming to injure the ship’s engines and computers as well as draw attention away from himself. Once that is in place, Davarax moves towards the door leading below and gets ready.

Davarax triggers the first two bombs. The ship shakes and groans and he heads below to face the minor army placed there to guard their precious cargo.

The first Trooper he sees standing there spins around at the sound of him and freezes with surprise.

Davarax fires his blaster and moves on to take down the next before the body has hit the floor. He triggers more bombs.

The ship’s siren starts blaring. It howls its long and loud warnings on all floors.

After that, blaster shots hits Davarax’ armour, shrapnel from enemy grenades and his own stabs at him, fists and bots do their best to hurt him, even a blade or two slices through his jacket, yet he keeps moving forward. He won’t stop unless he’s dead.

A well placed grenade takes out the light on the entire level, but instead of darkness his HUD has to adjust to the backup-lights flickering on and off as it appears the electrical system itself has taken damage.

Endless amounts of guards try to stop him. All of them visibly confused as they were under the impression that they are being invaded by a large group of enemies and all they see is one Mando. They soon are too dead to appreciate the lesson Davarax is teaching them: do not mess with a Mandalorian’s family.

Davarax removes a couple of soldiers trying to kill him with a well-aimed grenade and he turns a corner to see what he’s been looking for; the prison corridor.

“He’s here!” Someone shouts in the distance.

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious.” A voice snaps. “Don’t just stand there! Stop him!”

More soldiers rush forward to protect the owner of the voice.

Davarax removes obstacle (soldier) after obstacle (more soldiers), ignoring everything except his mission. He’s so lost in his anger and battle-haze that he’s not prepared for when he suddenly sees her there. Barely visible through the smoke and blaster shots sent his way, there is no mistaking her.

Dulcy.

Some obnoxious Imp officer is standing next to her, his one hand grabbing her arm and the other holding a blaster muzzle to her head. The officer looks scared. She does not. Her eyes are wide with surprise, yes, but her mouth softens into the faintest of smiles. Her hair is almost as wild as Raga’s and for some weird reason she’s wearing a fancy teal dress that probably costs more than the Razor Crest.

It would have eased Davarax’ anger, soothed the fire inside him, quenched his thirst for blood, seeing her standing there… if not for the blooming bruise on her face. There is a startling discolouring of the delicate cheekbone he’d trailed light fingertips over in a wordless display of love not too long ago...

Unbridled rage explodes inside Davarax. He’s going to rip Vecon Valentis apart!

Completely indifferent to the shots fired at him, Davarax merely keeps stalking towards Dulcy and the soon-to-be-dead-Imp, killing anyone who gets in his way. He’s so angry he can barely breathe. How dare they hurt her?!

A trooper jumps out of room next to him, blaster raised, but Davarax slams his elbow into the helmet so hard it shatters. He then pulls out a vibro-blades and throws it through the air and takes down the one guard left standing next to Dulcy and the Imp officer.

The red lights are still flashing, sirens are blaring, there is thick smoke in the air, and Davarax is finally standing in front of Dulcy and Vecon Valentis. The Imp now looks downright terrified.

“Don’t, Mando.” Vecon warns. “I will shoot.”

“Not if he kills you first, Vecon.” Dulcy says. She’s keeping her gaze locked on Davarax, unfazed by Vecon’s threat and the pain of her bruised face. His brave Dulcy. His heart. His light.

Not bothering to even look at Vecon, Davarax grabs the man’s hand holding on to the blaster and squeezes and twists it until he drops the weapon with a pained yelp. He’s mesmerized by Dulcy’s complete lack of fear and solid faith in him. She even uses the moment Davarax disarms her captor to break free and spin around to stand next to Davarax instead.

“Tell Macero I’m never going back. He will never see his son again. And to leave me alone. And if he comes after me or my family again, I won’t ask nicely to be left alone. I will kill him.”

‘My family’. She said ‘my family’. It might be wishful thinking from Davarax’ side, but her choosing those words instead of just saying ‘me or my son’, it almost sounds like she means… him and the children? The anger deflates as wild hope floods Davarax instead and he glances over at the amazing woman next to him.

Dulcy is glaring at Vecon, who is bending over into an awkwardly twisted position due to the grip Davarax has on him, and she looks magnificent; beauty and fury. And there is no hesitation or trace of softness in her threat. She means it, she will kill Macero, and Davarax loves her even more.

“Tell him yourself.” Vecon sneers.

Davarax is distracted, entirely focused on Dulcy, and he pays the price. The Imp moves and a sharp pain follows as he drives a blade into Davarax’ side. Grunting, Davarax reacts instinctively; he draws his blaster and shoots.

Vecon Valentis is dead.

Dulcy doesn’t care. She seems indifferent to the man being killed and her being deprived of the chance to do it herself as payback for her bruised face. All she focuses on is getting to where the blade is planted deep in Davarax’ body. “Oh. Oh no. What-”

They have to leave. Now. The blade hasn’t done lethal damage but Davarax knows he won’t be able to fight for too long with this kind of injury. Blood-loss will weaken him. He yanks the blade out and grabs her arm to redirect her frightened gaze to his t-visor. “We have to go.”

She nods, a little stunned but ready to get out of there. Good.

Picking up Valentis’ blaster, he hands it to her. “I need you to cover my back, Dulcy. Can you do that?” Blood is seeping through his underarmor and a burning pain is spreading. No time to deal with it as more guards are on their way for sure. He needs her help if they are going to make it.

She nods again. Worried, pale, but determined. She’s got his back. Just like he knew she would.

He loves her so much.

Together, they move, battle and make it back to the Razor Crest.

Stumbling into the cockpit and over to sit down in the pilot seat, Davarax brings the engines online and detaches them from the Imp ship as quick as possible. The bombs he’d set off earlier was to confuse the troops onboard and Davarax hopes they have caused enough damage to the engines for him and Dulcy to make their escape.

The Razor Crest does a slow turn, rolling over, Dulcy buckles herself into her seat, and with a strained shake of her entire hull; the Razor Crest gives a mighty kick and races off into the darkness.

-Run, Davarax pleads the ship. -Run as fast as you can, old girl. If that beast recovers enough to come after us, we’re all dead. So I need you to run with everything you got. Run!

And, again maybe it is his wishful thinking, Davarax swears he feels the ship give an extra burst and her speed increases even more as they race towards safety.

Only after forty three minutes and seventeen seconds of pushing the engines to the limit of what they can take, plus non-stop checking the radar to see if someone has decided to chase them and finding nothing, only then does Davarax dare to ease up and let the Razor Crest slow down while he leans back and exhales.

Adrenaline and stress leaves his body while exhaustion moves in.

This is also when Dulcy unbuckles herself and appears by his side to with an anxious expression on her beautiful face and her hands hovering a little undecidedly over his torso as if she can’t decide where to touch.

Her own bruised face appears forgotten to her. Davarax feels how guilt viciously collides with the relief of having her back. He reaches out, pulls Dulcy close and hugs her tight. “Are you okay?” Her bruised face is bad enough, more than bad enough, but what if… He will never forgive himself if...

“Yes, but you’re not.” Dulcy replies, too relaxed to be lying and she tries to push him away. “You’re bleeding. You’re hurt, Davarax. I have to-”

Feeling her in his arms, alive and warm and there and forgiving him his failure, Davarax couldn’t care less about his own injuries. He can’t even feel them. All he can feel is her. All he cares about is her. The thought of letting her go after nearly losing her forever hurts. “In a moment.” Davarax’ throat is snared up so tight he has to whisper. “Please.”

And his heart shatters entirely when this incredible woman shivers, once, then wraps her arms around him and hugs him back. Davarax eases her over to sit on his lap where she curls as close to him as she can manage and he holds her as close as he dares.

He’d nearly lost her. This fact will haunt him for the rest of his life; a life he cannot imagine without her. She brought him out of his half-existence, comforted his children when he was unable to and Davarax had started to wake up in the mornings with hope instead of guilt and weariness.

Despite the ordeal she has been through, Dulsissia ignores her own hurt and says that they need to tell the Covert Macero will come for them so they can flee, but Davarax isn’t too worried. They have fought all kinds of governments before and won. He alone had taken on a Destroyer and gotten away with it today, just imagine what his entire Covert could do to a man stupid enough to challenge them.

Dulcy is not convinced, but they compromise and then her focus shifts to his injuries and that is something she will not compromise on. It’s odd to have someone care. Nice, but odd. He’s always tended to his injuries himself.

She fusses about his wounds and notes how Vecon held the blade all wrong to do fatal damage. His girl knows how to stab someone properly. His heart glows with pride.

Dulcy refuses to use the cauterizer and tries to order him out of the pilot seat. As much as he loves her authoritative voice, Davarax declines. He needs to keep an eye on the radar, just in case.

Another compromise is made and she ends up sitting on his lap while tending to his injuries.

It’s no big surprise when she asks about her son.

“Scared out of his mind that he’ll never see his mother again.” Davarax sighs, running his hand along her arm in an absent-minded caress. “When we get closer to Nevarro, I’ll try to reach him.”

“And the rest of the kids?”

That actually makes Davarax laugh a little “I had to physically wrestle Paz off the ship when he heard I was going. If he had a blaster, he would have shot me.” His hand rounds her shoulder and moves up her neck to cup the side of her face. “They’ve all been desperate to get you back. Like me.” It feels almost too good that she’s back. He did it. She’s here. He didn’t fail her again.

“I’m sorry.” Dulsissia mumbles, gently patting down the edges of a bacta patch on his stab wound. “I didn’t see him before it was too late. And then I just wanted them away from all of you.”

“Hey.” Davarax takes a gentle but firm grip on her wrist, halting her movement, making her look at his visor. “This was not your fault. This was all them. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Dulsissia doesn’t look convinced. “Maybe not. But the fact remains that without me stumbling into your life, you wouldn’t be bleeding right now.”

“Without me barging into yours, I wouldn’t be sitting here, that’s true.” Davarax replies, gently caressing her wrist. “I wouldn’t be with you. My days wouldn’t bring happy memories instead of feeling guilty all the time. I wouldn’t come home to my kids smiling instead of crying, hiding away while being terrified for their lives or without a voice because they have been screaming themselves hoarse.” His hand moves up to brush the back of his fingers across her bruised cheekbone, feeling the guilt gnaw at him again. “That’s worth more than bleeding for, cyare. That’s worth dying for.”

Closing her eyes, Dulsissia takes a hold of his hand and moves it down to press her lips to it. “Other than the love I felt for my son, I didn’t know what love was until I met you.” She shivers. “Don’t talk about dying because it feels like tempting fate and I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“Then, maybe, if you feel like that, would you…” Davarax says, tensing up a little. He had asked her to marry him and she had said no. It’s just… He wants them to be together, forever, so badly. He wants to be able to take his helmet off in front of her. He wants to kiss her lips and feel her hands on his face. He wants her to see his smile and how happy she makes him. He wants… What he wants doesn’t matter. As tempting as it is to ask her to at least reconsider, he won’t. He had asked and she had said no. Davarax is going to have to respect that.

Dulcy kissing his hand snaps him out of his thoughts just before she asks; “Would I what?”

Davarax exhales and lets go off his dream. He then tilts his head and tries to divert the conversation. “Would you let me compliment you on the dress? It’s lovely. And really brings out the colour of your eyes.” Vecon Valentis might have been a jerk, but looks to have had a sense of fashion.

Laughing, Dulsissia shakes her head and goes back to focus on cleaning and bandaging him up. “Thank you. I kind of like it myself. Impractical, but pretty. I was thinking about keeping it.”

“I think you should.” Davarax drawls, toying with the thin shoulder strap to distract himself as well. “Definitely.”

When Davarax finally manages to contact the children over the comm system, it’s both a relief and painful torture. Relief in that Corin gets to talk to his mother, hear her voice and know she is safe, same with the other children, but Davarax is also tortured by guilt upon hearing their distress and knowing he is to blame. He had said Dulcy was safe and she had been ripped away from them.

His heart aches the most, however, when Dulcy, his sweet Dulcy, makes sure she hears the voice of every child to reassure them all, like the amazing mother she is. It makes him want to collect every neglected child in Galaxy and bring them to her so they can feel happy again too.

In the five hours it takes for them to return to Nevarro, Davarax persuades Dulcy to return to his lap and merely drowse in his arms until they land. It feels so good to hold her. He will happily share her with the children when they get back home, but for these hours, knowing everyone is safe, he will allow himself to be selfish and savour every second where it is just the two of them.

Stepping inside the Covert, Corin is in his mother’s arms before the door has closed behind them. The boy is clinging to his mother with desperate determination, eyes squeezed tight and his entire frame shaking. Dulcy is struggling to keep from crying and she’s stroking and kissing his dark hair, his cheeks and his forehead. It’s the kind of open affection that Davarax can only dream about...

Which means he is not prepared for Din running over to wrap his arms around his waist and burying his face to his stomach with a half-choked sound. His grip is frightfully strong. Surprised and humbled by the rare display of affection, Davarax runs a gentle hand over Din’s hair. While Din has eagerly soaked up every hug and encouraging pat Davarax has given him, this is the first time he has initiated a hug. It almost feels like Din had been equally scared of losing him as Corin had been about losing his mother. That… It’s…

Glancing over at Dulcy, trying to blink away the fog that appears to be assaulting his eyes, Davarax sees Raga and Barthor have joined Corin in her embrace. It seems wrong that Din should have to settle for him so he gently ushers the boy over to Dulcy as well and loves her even more at how quickly and naturally she includes Din with the others.

It would be perfect if only… Davarax’ heart sinks as he sees Paz standing there alone, arms crossed, older than his years. He’s not been the same since the battle at the new Covert. It’s a part of growing up as a Mandalorian, but it still hurts to witness. Yet another thing he can’t protect them from.

Lost in thought, Davarax is then again not prepared as Dulcy unleashes Corin, Raga and Barthor in his direction and they all throw themselves at him with gusto. Davarax grunts at the impact when Raga actually jumps at his chest, Barthor smacks into his left hip and Corin to his right, Din’s arms goes back around his waist, all of them grabbing a hold and hugging him. Din laughs while Davarax staggers a step backwards and tries to pet each head, support Raga to prevent the little space-monkey from falling and not dislodge any one of them at the same time.

Dulcy walks over to stand in front of Paz. “No hug?”

“Kids first.” Is the stern reply.

She simply pulls him close, hugs him even closer and whispers something. Something that has Paz relax and hug her back. That woman must surely be a Jedi witch…

But Davarax doesn’t get to linger on the sight or speculate on her magical powers as he’s quickly distracted by Raga climbing up to perch on his shoulder and he has to support her with one hand while Corin decides to hang off his other arm, using him like a swing like he’d done during their initial meeting back on that smoke-covered planet. Din actually laughs.

“Maybe we can head inside?” Davarax asks, his voice a little strained under the children enthusiastically mistaking him for a playground.

Dulcy looks over at them and smiles like the angel she is. “Yeah, let’s go.”

They walk towards Dulcy and Corin’s room. She reminds him of the need to warn the Covert about the danger of Macero Valentis, but Davarax is in no hurry to see his sister just yet. And Davarax does not believe for one second that Valentis could be a threat to the Covert. If the foolish man was to try to attack, they would eat him alive.

Inside the room there is a whirlwind of exchange of information. Dulcy is as curious about how Davarax had been able to find her as the children are about what had happened to her. Corin gently touches the bruise on his mother’s face with agonized tenderness.

“It still sucks that Davarax had to go alone.” Raga states angrily. “He even had to defy ‘her’ to do it!”

Startled, Davarax doesn’t want Dulcy to know he’d raised his voice to his sister. “It’s late.” He states, stealing their attention away from Raga’s words. “You kids should head home.”

There is nothing but disappointed faces among the children, but there is one who looks downright… depressed. “Can…” Din clears his throat, shifts his position awkwardly. “Can I stay here tonight?”

Corin nods. “He has bad dreams, mom. He dreamt the droids got you.”

Davarax’ heart clenches. He knows how tormented Din has been by the memory of how his birth parents had perished. He’s seen the raw fear in him whenever the boy sees an android. And when Dulcy sends him a pleading look, Davarax isn’t difficult to persuade. Sighing, he nods and starts to contact Din’s Mandalorian parents via his vambrace. “I’ll ask them” And they will say yes. He won’t settle for anything else. The boy needs a little cheering up after all this.

That triggers a landslide of requests to stay as well. Davarax adores those kids for how Raga meekly promises to behave and Paz finally reverting to his real age by demanding to stay if she gets to stay, yet Barthor’s quiet resignation awakens the anger in Davarax.

“My mom will never let me sleep over.” Barthor scoffs with bitter conviction.

Davarax feels his eyes narrow. “Want to bet?” Barthor is one of his kids. If Barthor wants to join the sleep-over, then Barthor will sleep over as well. He is just about to press the final button to contact Din’s parents when his beloved witch strikes again.

“How about… we all spend the night in Davarax’ room?”

Davarax’ face snaps up to stare at her. She couldn’t have surprised him more if she’d slapped him across his bare face with a fish. “Say what now?” Nobody said anything about them sleeping over in his room, with explosives in every corner and the memory of Dulcy’s soft whimpers in his bed.

Din lights up with utter delight. “Oh, can we?”

Davarax clenches his jaw, Dulcy gives him the sweetest smile of fake innocence, and he folds with a heavy sigh. As if he can deny her or these kids anything. “Just… let me talk to your parents first.”

As expected, Din’s parents give their permission without much trouble. They trust Davarax.

Davarax fears he suffers permanent hearing damage after connecting with the Saxons and quickly blurts out his question.

There is a moment of silence before Raga’s mother states: “Anything she breaks, I’m not paying for it.”

“It’ll be on me.” Davarax replies, and then she starts screaming at either her husband or her sons and he just shouts his goodbye and disconnects.

Dez is a problem because of course he is. That man thrives on being difficult, especially around Davarax. If Davarax states something obvious, Dez will disagree just because he said it.

“A sleep over? Are you kidding me? My boy has put on the helmet. He doesn’t do kid stuff like that. I will not have you make my son soft, Davarax.”

“Dez…” Davarax has to take a deep breath and not lose his temper. “It’s a sleep-over. All his friends will be here. Don’t be such a hard-ass. Let the boy have some fun.”

“We are Mandalorians. We don’t do fun. Fun doesn’t make you into a great warrior.”

“A little fun never harmed a kid. He’s a kid, Dez. Helmet or not, he’s still a kid. Let him have this.”

“He should be training.”

“He is training. Every day. That boy is dedicated and you know it. He’s among the best fighters I’ve ever seen. Let. Him. Have. This.”

They bicker back and forth for a while and eventually Davarax manages to wear down the cantankerous man by a combination of nagging and bribery. It’s worth it when he can give Paz the thumbs up to show he’s allowed to stay as well.

And yet Dez Vizla is nowhere near as frustrating as Barthor’s parents. There is no room for negotiations, no compassion or empathy, just a stubborn ‘no’. Davarax tries everything. He flatters, he tries to bride, he tries to reason with them, he even gets dangerously close to pleading, but it doesn’t work. They won’t budge. They will not allow their son to have one simple sleep-over.

And that is when Davarax turns mean. Dangerously mean.

Thirty seconds later, he can give a very surprised Barthor a thumbs up.

That is how they end up gathering all there is off mattresses and blankets and pillows and march over to Davarax’ room. After hoarding and hiding away his weaponry, Davarax helps to arrange their haul all so his kids can be comfortable before he steps up next to Dulcy. “The kids are set. You take the bed. I’ll, uh…” He scouts for where he can fit on the floor, have a good view of the door in case of danger and be close enough to the kids to keep an eye on them as well.

“You and me are sharing the bed.” Dulcy states, as if it is the most natural thing in the world and her words doesn’t hit him in the gut like she’d fired a slugthrower. “The bed is for old people. Like us.”

“I said I was sorry.” Barthor groans. “Let it go.”

“Never.” Dulcy snaps, then she sends Davarax, who can’t stop staring at her, a puzzled look. “What?”

What? She’d just said they would share a bed, a bed with sinful memories, with the kids in the room and she’s asking him ‘what’?? Davarax shakes his head and looks over at the kids again to calm his stuttering heart. She can’t be that oblivious, can she? Well, he can handle this. He can-

“And would you mind taking the armour off?” Dulcy continues to torture him. “You can, inside the Covert, right?”

Closing his eyes, wondering what he’d done wrong to deserve this sweet punishment, Davarax manages a tiny nod.

He handles it like a champ. Davarax removes his armour, settles himself on the bed closest to the door to keep an eye on it and the children to ensure they are safe. Din often has nightmares and might need calming down, though he currently looks quite comfortable between Corin and Paz. Davarax got this. He can handle this.

Dulcy curls up next to him and rests her head on his chest.

He… He’s got… got this…

After a while, Dulcy lets out a soft laugh. “You’re going to have to breathe eventually, you know.”

“No.” Davarax declares. She’s too close and too tempting for him to dare to breathe.

Dulcy giggles and that catches Corin’s attention. He pops his head up and asks what is so funny. If only he knew. Of course Davarax’ evil witch isn’t content with tormenting him solely by being this close to him. Oh no. She hoists herself up on her side and places her hand on his stomach. Her fingers dig gently into the fabric of his shirt and making it slide across his skin in a deliberate caress. “Nothing, baby. Go back to sleep”

Oh. Oh, this means war. Davarax reaches down and grabs a good handful of that divine behind of hers. He grins and savours her strangled squeak like the finest battle trophy.

Corin’s head pops up again. “Mom?”

“It’s fine, Corin.” Dulsissia takes revenge by prodding two fingers next to one of Davarax’ wounds

He jolts with a muffled grunt. Oh, she is really pushing her luck right now...

Corin’s head goes down again.

Davarax’ takes a firmer grip on her behind, hitching her abruptly closer, so she places a hand to an unharmed area on his chest to push herself away. Davarax counters by using his other hand to grab the one she has to his chest and removing it before pulling her even closer. She squirms to free herself while they both struggle to muffle their laughter. Davarax can’t believe this is happening. He wasn’t this childish even when he was a child.

Paz’ helmet comes up and he lets out a very annoyed; “SHHH!”

Davarax and Dulsissia both withdraw their hands amidst quiet laughter.

“Sorry.” Dulsissia stutters through choked giggles.

“Yeah, sorry.” Davarax adds, struggling hard to silence his own snickering.

Grunting, still very much annoyed, Paz lies back down again.

As the laughter calms and a warm peace settles in instead, Dulsissia finds Davarax’ hand. She takes it, lifts it up to hold it between their chests, and smiles as their fingers begin their slow, pointless dance of just touching and braiding and feeling like they had done that very special night.

Looking at her face, seeing the warm affection in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks and the trust in her features, Davarax considers just how lucky he is. How the smallest change in the past might have lead both him and Dulcy on very different paths. How he could have never known the happiness he’s feeling now.

Coincidence or fate, he doesn’t care, it had brought him and Dulcy together and nothing is ever going to tear them apart.

Not his sister.

Not Macero Valentis.

Not even a nightmare of a mercenary who specializes in collecting trophies...

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #what if au #Davarax #Dulsissia #Corin Valentis #Din Djarin #Paz Vizsla #Raga Saxon #Barthor #Fearsome Five #cacodaemonia is an art deity #I HAVE SO MANY FEELS OVER THIS IMAGE

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sixeyesgojo · 4 years ago

Text

Pictures of You

Summary: prequel to I’ll Be Your Enemy - fluffy!

Characters: IBYE!Reader, Gojo, Yuji, Megumi, Nobara

Word count: 2,3k

Content warning: none

A/N: requested by @thecaptainsbride

If anybody got the reference Gojo made when he was late; congratulations, you have been successfully hurt (but this time it was not me).

Since I left the relationship between Gojo and the reader up for interpretation in IBYE, I will do the same here! Consider this piece me trying to mend your hearts <3

Taglist applications open for anyone who is interested!

“A trip to an amusement park or something like that doesn’t sound so bad,” you mused in front of Satoru. “It serves as relaxation and maybe the first-years can get closer to each other, you know, bonding and so on. They will see each other many times from now on, so getting along with each other is important,” you reasoned, your eyes almost sparkling from the thought of a day off.

“But Jujutsu Sorcery is an individual–” he began.

“Satoru, I think you should see this as vacation. A vacation where you can eat sweets until your teeth rot and absolutely nobody will hold you back,” you interrupted him.

“Okay, I am sold. Am listening now.” You just knew how to convince him. Sweets.

So that was exactly how the first-year students and you ended up at a fairground somewhere in Tokyo; it was quite neat, not too small but not too spacious either. None of you could get lost in it. Still, it was buzzing with life and all kinds of people mingled. The colorfulness was a refreshing sight to take in, compared to the dark world of Jujutsu Sorcery where seeing people suffer was your daily routine. The pleasant smell of food wafted through the air, making your mouth water, as you walked past the different booths with them. Waffles sounded like absolute heaven on earth right now.

Jujutsu Sorcery certainly was a draining sport, mentally as well as physically. Therefore it was only right to take a break at times, right? Self-care days were just as important as working.

In order to wind down a bit, you had suggested a one-day trip – just you, Satoru and the three first-year students you had adopted in your mind right away after meeting them several times.

“Sensei, you look very pretty today!” Yuji complimented you. Even Megumi noticed: “Did you have a haircut? Your hair seems a little bit shorter.”

“Yeah, Nobara had a field day with me. Cutting my hair.. or more like trimming the ends, choosing my outfit, doing my make-up and so on just for today,” you gushed as if you were a high school girl again. “Leave it to master stylist Kugisaki Nobara and nobody will ever look bad,” the brunette girl commended herself. Yuji was affectionately patting her on the back.

Undoubtedly, Satoru was late – nobody was surprised about that. You already went ahead and generously treated the trio of students you loved dearly to some food.

“Thank you for the food, sensei!” As usual, Yuji and Nobara were in perfect harmony with each other, seemingly sharing a brain.

“Thank you very much,” Megumi also expressed his thanks sweetly. If you hadn’t known better, you would have thought the way his lips seemed to twitch was unintentional. “Absolutely no problem, kiddos. You guys enjoy it while I try to contact Gojo-sensei, yeah?” you shot them an apologetic smile, already fishing out your phone. The three of them nodded in perfect synchronization. They’re as cute as little ducklings, you thought.

You didn’t even need to bother calling.

You were about to dial Satoru’s number on your smartphone when Yuji’s voice boomed, “Oh! There he is! Gojo-sensei, we are here!!”

The boy waved at his teacher.

Satoru immediately spotted the pink-haired student and skipped over to where you all were standing. “Sorry for the wait! I’m afraid I got lost on the path of life!!”

“Nice of you to finally join us, but sadly, the fun is already over and we decided to go home. Just wanted to call you to let you know! We’ve been here since morning,” you deadpanned as the white-haired man arrived, looking Satoru dead in the eye – if they weren’t covered. “Wait, wha– Hold on, I am very sure I am not that late. MY MOCHI?” Satoru sounded frantic, facing his students who just shrugged their shoulders. “Serves you right,” Megumi stated calmly. Nobara, being the sassy girl she was, also joined in, “Losers don’t get to have fun and that’s a fact.”

It was such a wholesome and funny moment for you to see the students playing along with your prank without being told beforehand.

You broke out in laughter, not being able to contain it any longer, “You should have seen your face, dumbass! I was just joking!”

“Phew, I almost thought I had to kiss the idea of eating sweets today goodbye. What a horror that would be, my day would be OVER this instant,” the blindfolded man pouted, “so where should I buy my sweets? I’m gonna buy the entire place anyway, but where do I start? Any suggestions for Great Teacher Gojo?”

“Hold up, Satoru! We gotta take a picture together to commemorate this special day!” you suggested, bouncing up and down with enthusiasm. “I swear I just saw sensei’s eyes sparkle but I might be wrong,” Yuji remarked, looking at his dark-haired friend for confirmation.

“Sensei, if you want to take a picture, we have to take it at the right angle!” Nobara chimed in, the secret Instagram influencer in her on full display. She continued to explain, “It would come out great if Gojo-sensei took the pic, long arms privilege and so on.”

The female student almost seemed more into it than you were, it was adorable to you to see the usually bold student be this into taking pictures.

You hand the tall man your phone, but not without shooting him a “if you drop my phone, I’ll make you drop dead” look.

“Okay, ladies, now let’s get in formation,” the male teacher commanded loudly. Upon hearing that, Megumi immediately slapped his hand in his face and turned away in embarrassment. Why was this man like this?

“...Ladies?” Yuji asked, the expression on his face screaming ‘confusion’ “Gojo-sensei just referenced a Beyoncé song, Itadori,” the dark-haired boy explained in a hushed tone, turning back slightly as if he did not want to get caught.

“And it’s not just any song!” Satoru happily chimed in. “Yes, yes, the good old Formation,” you added, nodding in satisfaction. You remember how you showed him the album when it dropped.

“Can we all just ignore Gojo-sensei and take our pic?” Nobara inquired as she shoved everybody into their respective spots. “Alright, everybody, smiiiiile for the camera. Say cheese!”

Click, click, click, click.

Finally, Satoru had gotten his share of sweets. Complying with his sweet tooth was always an effective way to calm him for some time. Almost like feeding a baby, in a way.

Now it was time for fun rides!

...or at least that was what you thought… until Satoru dragged you along to ride a freaking pendulum ride with him. The three students had managed to talk themselves out of stepping foot on that monster of a ride but Satoru didn’t even give you a chance to refuse, he simply gripped your arm and walked towards it.

Stopping only when you were already standing in line, you nervously eyed the metallic behemoth with its iron arm. The monstrosity was seemingly ready to make you throw up from the way it would spin you through the air repeatedly, going back and forth and back and forth again. Why did you have to do this?

“Satoru,” you called his name timidly and tugged at his sleeve, the strange feeling not leaving your gut, “do I really, really have to do this?”

“Absolutely! I promise it will be very fun,” Satoru replied with a signature grin you wanted to wipe off of his face at that moment.

No, it was not fun. At all. You were dizzy and your fear of height was kicking. The blasts of air hitting your face left, right and center were not helping at all and you were sure, if anybody took a picture of you right now, you would look horribly green.

“I– can’t do this anymore!” you shouted mid-air, right before the ride swung to the other side. The force knocked the air out of you once again.

“SATORU, PLEASE GET US OUT OF HERE!” you begged and squeezed his arm with an iron grip. The height was too overwhelming. “Mid-ride?” Satoru asked and you nodded frantically. “Now that’s what I call reckless! Sounds like fun. I’m in!” he declared with a grin.

“Domain Expansion: Infinite Void.”

That was the last thing you heard the tall man say before he touched your head with his large palm.

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized this man used his domain this recklessly, for fun. Maybe it was a side effect of being able to use it multiple times a day.

The infinity gently wrapped itself around Satoru and you. Almost movie-like, you watched as the entire, vast universe beautifully unfolded in front of your eyes. Each star being created separately, then abruptly flashing by as a sea of stars – as if you were in a wormhole. You perceived the entire domain within a flash of a moment, yet tasted eternity in it. Everything but nothing at once.

Despite being touched by Satoru himself, the sensations weren’t without merit. If this was how it felt to be in the safe space of Satoru’s touch within his inner world of Limitless, you would rather not fathom how it felt to be the one hit by this powerful domain.

It took you some time to process things and recollect.

“When I said I wanted you to get the two of us out of that thing, I didn’t mean ‘send me to your domain’,” you scolded him.

“Well, it was convenient,” he defended himself and you could almost hear the grin on his face, “Bet you’ll hate me after this though.”

“Hating you was never really an option I’d ever consider but okay, we’ll run with it this time. Now undo your domain, please, while I am asking nicely.”

“Your wish is my command! This time at least.”

“Satoru.” A stern last warning fell from your lips.

“Yes, yes, boss. On it.”

“I thought you said it’ll be fun but I am absolutely not riding that thing ever again,” you took deep breaths to calm down as your feet securely touched the ground again. Your legs were still trembling a bit.

“And it was fun! At least for me! I like seeing you struggle – it’s so funny – and the way you clung to my arm? Adorable! You are so tiny compared to me, like a bug I could crush between my fingers!” The annoying sorcerer laughed merrily.

“Gojo fucking Satoru, the only thing that is about to be crushed here are your balls. With my leg. You are very lucky to have that damn Infinity of yours or else,” you threatened.

“Ouch, you really do know how to hurt an invincible man,” he snickered and flicked your forehead lightly.

Rejoining with the students was easy as they all saw the barrier Satoru’s domain created.

“You are lucky there was some kind of show going on down here. That barrier above would have freaked people out if they weren’t distracted,” Nobara said, looks shooting daggers at her weird teacher. Innocent and as nice as ever, Yuji pitched in as well: “Yeah, Fushiguro also tried to distract children with their wandering eyes! I think he did a good job.”

“Okay but what did he do though?” you asked curiously and looked at the boy in question.

“...Shadow puppets,” Megumi slowly admitted, looking anywhere but at the people in front of him.

“Oh? You love your foster-dad-turned-great-teacher this much to embarrass yourself out in public? That’s new!” Satoru teased the poor boy. “Someone has to be the voice of reason around here or you’d all be in jail. That includes preventing civilians who are able to see curses from seeing you use Jujutsu while floating mid-air,” he justified, ignoring the tall teacher’s mockery completely.

“As much as I love slandering Gojo-sensei, I’d rather spend my day actually having fun,” Nobara pitched in, reminding everybody of why you were here in the first place.

“So, let’s go ride the ferris wheel!” she added excitedly.

More fun rides.

Before you knew it, the day passed by. You could already feel the heaviness in your legs from walking. The swirling feeling from all the rides boded in your chest – you probably would not be able to sleep well tonight. It was definitely worth it though, you thought.

You had already brought the students back to their dorm – Satoru had ran off to the school because he remembered he had to do something – and were on the way home yourself.

You were in some sort of trance, completely immersed in your phone, so you hadn’t registered when Satoru called your name until he gently tapped your shoulder, falling into step with you.

“Yeah?” you looked up to Satoru, snapping out of your train of thought.

“Just wanted to tell you; ‘Operation: Relaxation Day’ was a great success.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Satoru.” A genuine smile graced your lips and for a moment, he softened at the sight.

“You know what? It was amazing, I really should start listening to you more often,” he confessed with a smirk.

“Well, it’s thanks to your amazing power of persuasion that we got to spend it like this, so thanks for today,” you half-heartedly complimented him.

“You do know I only said we’d not be available today and then dashed, right?” he asked you, the usual playful tone lacing his voice. “Exactly what I meant by saying ‘your amazing power of persuasion’.”

“I think I’ll frame the picture we took,” you murmured softly, fondly looking at the screen of your phone. The picture from earlier was displayed on your homescreen.

Surely, you would hang it on the blank wall in your home as well. It was a personal treasure now.

Taglist (dm me if you wanna be added): @assbuttbaek @megumifushi @bleueluna @gojos-mochi @delammi

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x y/n #domain expansion #infinite void #ibye series

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lovee-infected · 5 years ago

Text

♦ Anon asked ~ Okay how would guys and their darling react to being slapped by Eliza? Feel free to write for any of those who got slapped ^^ Gender is neutral

Aaa this one was really sweet so I did it for all guys (who got slapped-)

I reached my 10 pic limit and had to sacrifice twins ixkskxksos

[note : re-posted his because my tags weren't working]

♦♥♠♣

Poor boy remained silent for a few minutes after that mess with ghost princess , still unable to talk

His cheeks are flushed that proved him being embarrassed , making him look greatly...cute

Just as much as you loved seeing softer sides of him you can't see him this sad , so now it is your responsibility to lift him up

He is upset with both failing to help and being an idiot in front of Eliza

The whole thing proved how soft he can actually be , which fascinated you . You hadn't ever thought of him being like this ; shy and... helplessly childish with girls

Deuce is a bit worried with the way you see him now , he doesn't want his picture ruined . But as a matter of fact you like him even more now , he could be serious and strict at times but still , he's a soft boy inside

You ask if he feels any shy around you and it makes him turn his head away to add a nervous : " M...me? Absolutely not- why would I .??"

You now know that he actually does but it isn't something he needs to hide , that actually makes him look awfully cute

He still seems sad though so you give him a small kiss on forehead , making him blush even harder

Well even if he's shy with you you aren't ; after all he is your boy

Trey himself couldn't help laughing at what had happened. He tried his best to be a gentleman , and he really was . But seems like Eliza had more different standards than he was expecting

Trey's mind just wasn't ready to go from his normal self to a high-level prince , but he doesn't find singing a part of a prince's duties either

"My my , it really messed up," he says as he joins you and the others in the losers' bench

You knew that the proposal was all fake , but Trey just wasn't one who could act it all ; he didn't have Vil's pure talent of an actor or Leona's charm of a prince , yet he did his very best

You tell that you really liked the way he presented himself , pretty much of a mature young man he really is and he gets blessed . He isn't much of a romantic guy and he appreciates that you like him as he is

You give him a "Ghost bride surely lost a great option , " to lift him up and it did , making him wink adding : " Well, perhaps she knew that I have a better one myself ,"

Finally after posting 34 pics of his slapped face along with other supplies such as his fake tears , dead flowers and some broken-hearted captions with tons of #Ghostbride #Puishmentoflove #illfate #brokenheart and and and you managed to have him looking off his phone for a second

You tell how he's making an issue out of nothing but he'll just laugh : " Who cares that it's all fake ? Teens are gonna love it ! ,"

He must be thankful that Eliza didn't see this part pf him or he should've spammed pics of his broken legs and hands instead

He takes the best advantage of being slapped and you wonder how he's just being all excited about it , what if the same thing happens while he's seriously proposing to someone ?

You ask if it bothers him , the feeling of being rejected and he goes silent for a moment not looking at his phone but the ground now , perhaps thinking of an logical answer

You drop your head regretting what you asked and then , he cuts you off with a small kiss on your cheek : " That's simple , my dear (y/n). Not a single soul likes being rejected no matter what the reason is , so that's why I always make sure that I won't get rejected before asking ; today was just an exception ,"

You get a bit confused at the answer , wanting him to give you an example

He slightly smirks before adding :" Well , ‌you didn't reject me , did you ?"

For the heaven's sake ; you couldn't be any more thankful that he got rejected . From the very moment they announced that princess was looking for a prince you feared of her picking Leona , a real prince

Leona is already prince charming of his home town ; Not a single soul could say no to him

The second he got slapped , his eyes - You were trying to feel sorry about it but the way he glared at Eliza as if he was a chubby cat pushed into water ; it was beyond hilarious

Leona has his own ways when it comes to attracting ladies , making him almost irresistible to many including you , but not the ghost bride

He seems really pissed off at the whole thing ; not that he liked the ghost bride that much , he just hates being rejected

With him being a growling cat for the rest of day , you decide to spoil him a little ; letting him take naps on your lap and rubbing back of his ears make him a whole lot better , but he won't say a word of satisfaction

You are used to his cringy behaviors and can't help loving them , you are really thankful that your cat would still be all yours - even if it was supposed to be a fake marriage

He just - Froze

Sword skills ? Were they a thing he lacked ? Was it just one of those royal fancy rules or could it be a serious problem ? He now was concerned

You found him getting slapped pretty unfair since not many these days are familiar with sword skills ; but there were no argues on that point since Eliza once lived as a girl from more than 500 years ago , so she surely ends up having more complicated standards comparing to you

You tell Jack about it and that it's fine , but he refuses to believe

He had heard of Sebek together with Silver being well-trained sword men which meant that this tradition still remained necessary , so he now is seriously thinking about picking it up

You couldn't blame him though , once he feels like he needs to be stronger that's it ; but you don't want him overwork himself

You insist that sword skills are pretty silly to him while he's got his powerful fists and the secret unleash the beast , but he still seems to have a doubt about it

Since he looks pretty certain with his choice , you don't try to stop him but you make promise that he wouldn't overwork himself , which he does

He intends to get stronger to protect his beloved ones , including you so there was nothing that could hold him back if it was because of you

♦♥♠♣ Jade Leech

Jade still doesn't get why Eliza didn't like the flowers , yes he didn't like them either but aren't flowers ladies' most appreciated gift ? How confusing , he thought

You slap the ice-pack against his face , just who on earth would give away unwanted flowers from his terrarium as a bouquet ?

Jade doesn't get why he shouldn't have , he was benefitting both himself and Eliza , right ? Or could that be that surface girls followed different romance traditions from underwater ? He needed more information then

He asks for ways to make a girl fall in love , which made you laugh , you told that if he's going to retry the thing with Eliza , he would end up needing way more than one ice-pack

He agrees with you on that point , so he wonders if he can practice tactics with you since you are a pretty gentle and calm partner , and it makes you blush

You tell him to focus on not being slapped again as long as this ghost marriage lasts and in return , you then can teach him some tricks with ladies

♦♥♠♣ Floyd Leech

He didn't really like Eliza from the very beginning so there was no way the two of them would end up together even if he wasn't slapped

Floyd isn't into this type of girls which are too strict and loud ; he prefers softer and cuter types , something he can dominant

You expect him to get moody and pissed off , but he just doesn't seem to care

thanks to him Jade as well got slapped -very hard- and that successfully lifted his mood up

You ask him if he wants to take a walk and he agrees in deal of you paying for his candy , and you gladly agree

The two of you have candies together and make fun of others getting slapped back there

Both of you agree on Jade's expression being way more hilarious than Azul's

When you finally get back to others trying to find a way , he whispers into your ears : " If I ever were to propose to someone , I'd prefer it to be to someone like you"~

Man , he's really pissed off. Talking too much will usually be beneficial while dealing on a contract , mostly because of the way it confuses dealers and gives them an unconscious vibe causing them to believe you ; strange yet helpful

Azul hadn't thought of proposing being this different from making contracts , and it was odd to him

He now is supposed to be looking for a way to save his boardgames club friend , but another thought keeps haunting him :

What are the correct ways of... making someone fall for you ? To attract a lady ? Isn't having a good face and using sweet words like enough ? He needed more lessons if he wanted to be an ideal dealer

You sigh as his serious replies , disappointed to see how he really had no idea about emotional terms

You tell him how life isn't always about business and benefitting , but sometimes about feelings and well , loving

He mumbles saying how useless emotions are , a waste of time and brain cells to him

You suggest teaching him more about emotional situations which may be helpful , and charming to others , which sounds like a great deal to him , but he doesn't accept you giving it to him for free, saying that you as well must set a price

You aren't really sure what to ask , so you just want him to invite you to a fancy dinner after having this case with the ghost bride solved

Just as you hear the sound of him getting slapped , you know that it was bad news

Vil is trying his best to be calm but...it doesn't really seem to be working . His fist's shaking in anger as if he's gonna slam it against the wall or maybe someone . He got rejected and he couldn't take it ; he

wasn't one to accept such a thing

Although he isn't a real prince , he had anything needed to be a real one : Elegance , Charm , Nobility and maturity ; he was perfect

He is really furious now , specially thinking at how Lilia intended to avoid Malleus from showing up in fear of his high chance of being accepted . He wasn't one to say that he would surpass Malleus , but he wasn't any lower than him either: if a dog was the only reason he got rejected then Malleus as well would've been...but wait- doesn't it mean that Idia too shouldn't have been chosen since he loves cats ?

In that case..it must've had another reason : He wasn't good enough

You knew that Vil would never be satisfied no matter how many times you told him that he was already gorgeous , he wanted to be better

It was useless trying to take his mind away from being rejected through the same ways so you had to sacrifice yourself :

You go to Vil asking is he can join you for a second -until others get slapped try to propose because you are having some... beauty issues

You try to get him talking to you as much as possible ,from importance of having an organized sleep schedule to forbidding laughing too much since it will bring you wrinkles

You know that if there's one thing that Vil would always be proud of , that would be speaking of his high-key beauty skills which he couldn't ever get enough of

He could go on all day if Leona didn't cut him off : " Oi , aren't the two of you done yet ?"

Even with Leona pissing him off , he now seems to be a lot better and that was a success for you . Even if he doesn't notice how you were trying to secretly lift his mood up

Lilia is...crying ?

Your heart melts at the sight of his soft tears falling down his pale face , making you as well cry

You don't know why you are being overly emotional but who on earth would slap others because just because of being too cute ?!

You can't help but to be mad at Eliza , wanting to punch her in the face just as she did to Lilia , but Lilia stops you , wondering why you might want to do such a thing

You angrily express how unfair you think what she did was , telling that she shouldn't be treaten las if she has the right to do whatever she'd like

"Just HOW is cuteness considered to be a bad thing ?!" you argue , loud enough to gain attention to yourself . Lilia takes you out before Eliza could've heard

He then sits beside you , trying to see what could've been wrong with you ; were you sick or just in a bad mood maybe ? He couldn't tell

" I'm sorry I just , got really mad with what she did and after you cried..." you mumble slowly , making Lilia giggle

" My my darling , I wasn't the only one who got slapped and also , I just cried at how my whole presentation keeps getting ruined by my... appreance . You know , it's a bit frustrating to be called cute after living hundreds of years as a terrifying dark fae ," he says , shaking his head in a playful manner

You are relieved knowing that he wasn't crying of pain or being heartbroken , and now he as well seems to be better

He asks of you're ready to return inside and you quickly agree , admitting that you might have been a bit too emotional

Just before you two get to others , he brings himself closer to ask you something : " You as well agree that I'm cute , don't you ?"

"How dare she- I see now why master Lilia didn't let master Draconia approach - this disgraceful spirits don't deserve having the slightest sight of him..."and and and were the words you keeped up with untill you grew tired which was 20 minutes later . You really wish him to have a turn off button sometimes

Sebek feels really offended specially because he was just about to get to the best part of his speech about Malleus but got slapped in face

The sight of his mouth getting shut as Eliza slapped him was priceless , perhaps she and Malleus were the only ones who had ever got to shut his mouth

When he finally cools down , his puppy side is brought up : " (y/n) , maybe I didn't present myself good enough in front of her and caused her to take young master lightly . Is it my fault ? "

You keep telling him that Eliza just didn't like how he brought Malleus out of nowhere and started to ramble nonsense about him when he was supposed to be proposing

Sebek doesn't take your comment as a polite one at first , bit he had to agree , maybe it would have worked out for her if this ghost knew who the great Malleus Draconia is and that was why it all went wrong

You sigh at how he doesn't get your point at all but you don't say a word , he deeply appreciated Malleus after all ; Thought Malleus had to be removed surgically from him

Since he doesn't seem to be giving up , you say that you'd really like to hear that best part about Malleus , making him flatter and start talking like a parrot again

You don't really care what he says or how great Malleus can actually be , but if that's what makes him happy you are fine with it

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anonymous-swiftie · 4 years ago

Text

If you are on twitter, please retweet this:

https://twitter.com/ASwiftie00/status/1334245577933148164?s=19

Dear #Swifties,

I'm new on tumblr, and I really don't know how to use it.

I know you are the best supporters of the music industry and I'm here to ask your help.

I'm fighting with a crippling depression, that due this covid situation just got worse.

I'm at my lowest, I truly don't know if I will make it through this time.

I always dreamed to talk to Taylor, since I was a teenager. She is the only one that make me feel like I do fit in this world.

I've created this account because I know she is very active here, and I'm trying to reach her with this part of my story.

You can read everything below.

I didn't write any personal information because I don't want this to be seen by my family or somebody that can recognise me.

I don't want upset anyone.

I know that everyone hope to meet or chat with her, and so you are probably wondering why you have to share this here.

You're totally right, maybe it's a stupid idea to ask you this, but I haven't anything left in my pocket to fight this situation, and you're my only hope right now.

Thank you.

#taylor #swift

*******************************************

Dear Taylor,

I keep writing and deleting this, over and over again.

I feel so dumb to write my personal story here, but this truly is my last chance to feel better and try to overcome this giant monster called depression.

I genuinly don't know if I can make it through this year. It's the worst period of my entire life and i don't even know if it's worth living this hell anymore.

I know you have millions of supporters (that probably write you every single day, and they are all better fans than I am, that's for sure) but I know that you proved, time after time, to be so down to earth and to use your time to read your fans messages.. so, in this moment, I'm just trying to share a part of my story with you.

You are the one that make feel understood, since I was like 13teen.

I'm so sorry if my English isn't very good but I'll do my best.

I'm not very active on social media , because I'm very shy when I have to talk about myself.. but If this could work, I must do it.

I will try to send a letter, If I can find the strength to mark this feeling on paper.

**IF I'M WRITING TO SOMEBODY FROM HER STAFF, PLEASE JUST LET THIS MESSAGE REACH TAYLOR**

I'll try now to resume, because I don't want to bother you too much.

This has been a crazy year so far, and the all the time I spent by myself during the lockdown didn't help at all.

This situation brought me back to childhood.

I spent a lot of my days back and forth in hospitals, due to my allergies.

I had to wear a mask all the time I wanted to go outside to avoid severe allergic reaction (that's why this Covid thing awakened some hurting memories)

I didn't have real friends back then, 'cause I've spent most of the summers at home, watching other kids playing around, from my window, or from the windows of my classroom.

It was so hard to make new friends, because the only thing that other kids saw was my mask.

I was the masked kid.

I was the strange kid.

I couldn't play with them.

Everytime I tried to play with them, the only thing I heard was "oh you are ill , I don't wanna be like you so stay away".

This situation made me start to write things in my personal diary.

I wrote small sentences, as a kid, and that was the only thing I could do alone inside an empty classroom during all summer.

This situation continued for many years.

I wasn't the cool kid before, I wasn't the cool guy after.

The only things that let me enjoy those days were writing and listening to your songs.

I started to listen to your music thanks to my English teacher. She was a fan of folk and country music and she gave me a pic in which you were singing near a lake (I still have that photo somewhere, I strongly remember the white banner with your name written in red on it) and told me to listen to the cd she gave me that day.

I immediately fell in love (I think I still have a crush on you, I'm sorry).

I loved your album. I loved your voice. I loved the lyrics.

I remember having a "test" in school: each one of the class had to write their favourite lyrics and let the others guess the song.

If the someone guessed It, We could play the cd.

I chose Love Story and I translated it in Italian.

The class guessed the song, and I played it.

After the lunch break I went back to my desk and I saw some bullies that were breaking my cd-album and they started to laugh at me because I loved your music an I loved writing poems.

I was a boy so I was a loser because I enjoyed those things.

That felt terrible, but I continued to love your songs even more .

Those were my inspiration to write and to study english.

I felt so good when I listened to your album and this still happens.

Then I went to a private high-school.

Nothing changed, I still was the nerd guy that always got good grades and I have to say that the first year was quite good, but the second year was the start of the apocalypse.

I choose that school because two girls that I knew from childhood went there.

One of the cool new guys started to spread a fake "news" about me.

He said to everyone that I was the boyfriend of one of the two girls that I mentioned before.

So he was the cool guy and one of the girls believed him and told me to f*** myself.

The other girl was her best friend, so you could imagine by what happened next.

After 14 year spent together, I was nobody.

I didn't have "friends" in that class anymore.

I didn't say hello to anybody for 4 years, and nobody would say anything to me.

Nobody to talked with me.

That's great when you're a teenager.

I hated to wake up every morning.

I had an eating disorder, I lost like 22pounds in less than a month. Got hospitalized twice. I kept vomiting for 3 years, every single morning before school.

During that time I only talked with one of my cousins, who lived like 2 hours by car from me.

He was older than me but he always tried to help.

He knew that I loved to write poems so he started to give me guitar lessons.

I made it through a lot of things thanks to him.

I'm sorry, It's hard for me to write this part of the story.

I still get emotional when I think about this.

On the 10TH of December 2013 (some days after his birthday) we received a phone call from his mother: She warned us that he didn't return home after the last working shift.

I wrote a message to him like 3 hours prior to that phone call.

Never had the opportunity to get a reply again.

This year is the seventh year that he is missing.

That destroyed me.

I felt empty.

I felt like nothing couldn't help me.

I still feel that everytime I care about someone in my life, it will disappear someday.

This have happened several other times.

You know when ignorants say that men don't cry, is real bullshit. Men cry. I cried a lot.

I wrote so many poems , lyrics, thoughts in that period of time, that I destroyed my hands.

That was the only way to close my eyes and let me reach another reality because the real one was way too much for me.

Be a sensible man in this world is somehow a curse.

All these things made me afraid even to hug someone 'cause I feel I'm too ugly or just to scared to be refused.

I will stop here my story, but there's so much more to tell.

I make it through all of these things and memories because I keep dreaming that one day I could meet you and we could talk together.

Dreaming about the fact I could spend a day with you made me find the power to battle my depression.

I'm 25 now and this year I'm not dreaming anymore.

I was going to start again university, I wanted to get a degree in marketing and have the chance to live in the us.

For years I believed that I would make it and hopefully be part of your marketing team.

I'm so stupid. All these years I kept dreaming to avoid pain.

I wanted to pursue my passion and continue to write lyrics but all I was doing was putting myself in unrealistic realities.

This covid situation made everything clear.

When everyone had someone to facetime (or video call) I was alone.

When everyone had someone asking them "how are you?" I only had myself looking in the mirror saying: "Will I ever feel better?"

I've never been the one for anybody, and I think I'll never be.

I won't be the one among all your fans to realize his dream.

Nobody likes me, and I'm exposing myself once again just because I want the opportunity to smile at something that could happen to me.

I'm tired to smile only for others best moments.

I've always seen the sun through a window.

I want to feel happy.

I want to burn my face with the sun.

I'm so sick of hiding my pain,

sick to cry when I'm alone in my car before going to work,

sick to let my eyes rain on my pillow every night.

I'm sick to say to my mother that I'm fine, just because I don't want to make her feel bad.

It's not her fault.

She is battling with a degenerative autoimmune disease, why I should put other weight on her shoulders?

I didn't give up to my weakness before because I don't want to hurt her.

I always say to her that soon she will feel better, that's why your song It's stuck in my head.

But when she won't be here anymore, how I can go through all of that?

I don't even know if will ever get better for me.

Will this pain ever stop?

Sometimes it's so hard to live and so easy to die.

Hope that my dream to spend some time with you can become true.

Thank you for everything, you gave me the strength to go on for many years.. But this time is so hard to put on my armor and continue this battle.

But is this even worth if thy I try to surround myself with people and I always feel lonely?

@taylorswift @taylornation @jackleopards-thedolphinclub

#swifties #taylor swift #folkore #music #ts spoilers #lover taylor swift #taylornation #swiftified13 #day 13 #pop music #books and libraries #writers #history #musicians #quotes #loneliest #love taylor #hopes and dreams

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hexalianrebel-blackfeathers · 4 years ago

Text

No Flash Photography

Panda's Notes: @rosileeduckie IT'S DONE!! >w< This story was inspired by Ro's story "Pics or It Didn't Happen, Bro", which is an awesome little story that I love going back to. I couldn't help dying for a sequel, and I somehow got their blessing to make an unofficial one of my own. >w<

Find it/both on AO3!

Iida fiddled a bit anxiously with his phone, just trying to decide if he was willing to take the risk. To throw himself back into the proverbial lion’s den just for…what? Nothing really.

Nothing material, at least.

His phone buzzed against his palm, making him flinch and nearly drop it. Of course, it was another in a long list of messages in the group chat egging each other on. He rolled his eyes before skimming over—

Wait.

Sero: Look, I know we’ve all been saying it as a joke, but I’m stepping up.

Sero: Class Rep, since this is your fault, I dare you to “win” another #ticklefightwithBakugou. Pics or it didn’t happen, right guys?

There was a new onslaught of quick messages and shocked or laughing emojis as the class gossips alerted Iida to the callout.

Iida: You’re really calling me out, huh? What’s the catch?

Mina: Pretty sure the catch is getting the pics before Bakugou finds out you took the dare lol

“If you don’t quit texting and fucking move, I will flip this board onto you.”

Joke’s on them; he was already toeing the line there.

Iida chuckled softly, setting his phone face-down underneath his leg and looking over the chess board between them. He pushed one of his rooks forward, and he tried to resist a smile when Bakugou tsked under his breath.

“Why did you have to pick fucking chess, Four-Eyes?”

“You said you didn’t want to help with the puzzle; you could have said no.”

“Mmph…” Bakugou tapped one of his pawns on the board before shifting it forward. “So, what are those losers talking about anyway?”

It was a little interesting knowing he wasn’t included under the “losers” umbrella this time, and Iida tipped his head to look over the board.

“Oh, you know…” He hummed, unsure how much he could let on. “Same memes every week; Yaoyorozu’s scheduling study sessions for that test we have coming up—” He set down the pawn he’d chosen, his eyes searching for something of interest.

“Any new bets going around?” Bakugou snatched up the pawn, and swapped it with his bishop, smirking slightly across the table at Iida.

Iida tapped his fingers on his knee for a moment, biting his lip as he tried to keep his face in check. “Ah, well, I haven’t really been in that channel lately. Why?” He shifted another pawn forward.

Bakugou huffed and shrugged his shoulder. “No reason, I guess, just…” And the bishop took the offered pawn. “That #ticklefightwithBakugou thing is still going around, isn’t it?”

Iida let a chuckle slip, putting his hands up when Bakugou glowered at him. “You’re still thinking about that? Are you afraid someone might take advantage?” The question was emphasized by Bakugou’s bishop getting unceremoniously trampled by Iida’s knight. If looks could kill, the class rep’s head would have exploded.

“Don’t even think about putting fucking words in my mouth, four-eyes.” Bakugou practically snarled, moving one of his own knights out from its starting position. “I asked because I’m still catching shit from Pinky and Tapeface asking if you were lying or not.”

“Did you tell them?” There might have been a teasing little note to Iida’s voice as he castled his king and rook, and he yelped when Bakugou gave him a swift kick to his shin.

“If I had told them; they would have told the whole damn school, dumbass. Of course I didn’t tell them.” A pawn was inched forward as he buried his pouting mouth in his hand.

“You’re scared they’ll find out you’re all ticklish, huh?” One of Iida’s bishops was advancing.

“You shut your fucking mouth.” Bakugou grumbled, moving his rook halfway across the board as he attempted to cover the hint of red crawling up his face.

Iida couldn’t help smiling as he scooted a pawn. “That’s kind of adorable, Bakugou. What if…I got you again?” He asked softly as Bakugou was reaching for a piece.

Bakugou’s hand flinched, and the lone bishop clicked as the magnet in its base reattached to the board. He glared over at Iida again before a smirk spread across his face. He picked up the bishop again, and he set it down with a renewed confidence. “I knew you were up to something, you little shit.”

“What?!” Iida feigned offense, crushing one of Bakugou’s pawns under his rook. “I’m not up to anything. You brought it up.”

Bakugou hummed and looked over the board as Iida was putting the captured pawn to the side. “I wonder why I don’t believe you.”

Iida shrugged a bit himself, glancing away when Bakugou looked up at him again. “Perhaps you’re a bit paranoid? I can relate, actually; I remember when the year started, a few of our classmates made a similar bet targeting me.”

Bakugou snorted, remembering that couple of weeks back in May. The others had taken turns cracking bad jokes and sneaking pokes to the class rep’s sides in attempts to make him laugh. “Oh, yeah, that’s right…” He smirked as Iida was moving a knight, moving his bishop into an attacking position. “You’re pretty ticklish yourself.”

It was Iida’s turn to flinch a little, a nervous smile forcing itself across his face. A few syllables tripped and stumbled out of his mouth as he moved his knight to escape.

“And!” Bakugou piped up again. “If I remember correctly, you kind of like being tickled.” His bishop zipped forward, catching a pawn off guard.

“I—What? W-Where would you get that idea?” Iida cleared his throat when his voice came out squeakily, shifting his rook to snatch one of Bakugou’s pawns.

“Because, Speed Racer, you are a shitty liar. Plus:” Bakugou’s knight suddenly appeared and nudged Iida’s rook, and his fingers moved with a bit of wiggling flair before he snapped them sharply and pointed to himself. “My eyes are up here.”

Iida blushed brightly. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d been watching his opponent’s hands that closely. And being redirected to that smirking face and piercing stare didn’t help him at all.

Bakugou chuckled softly, watching as Iida hesitantly moved his only unseated pawn. “So, what was your little plan, huh? Did you even have one?”

“Mm, I suppose not.” He admitted, releasing a shaky breath when none of his pieces were taken this time. “It’s not exactly an easy win condition, you see.”

Bakugou hummed and gave a slight nod, picking up his Queen. “Pics or it didn’t happen, right?” He set it down with a resounding tap, pulling the now defeated knight off the board as Iida stared across the board at him. “Check. Your move, bitch.”

Iida pounced.

The chess board clattered as one of their flailing legs kicked it off of the couch, most of the magnetic pieces zipping back to the board while the others went AWOL.

“When the fuck did you get so heavy?!” Bakugou snapped, pawing at Iida’s arms as the taller boy was attempting to straddle his legs.

Iida sacrificed his arm, grabbing at one of Bakugou’s wrists while his free hand pulled his phone out of the pocket on his leg. Bakugou reached and attempted to slap at his arm, a fiercely determined smile on his face as his struggling nearly pushed Iida over.

Iida couldn’t resist the giggles that were slipping out of him, and he nearly lost his balance when Bakugou’s free hand suddenly attacked his side with scribbling nails. But his camera was open, and he tightened his grip on Bakugou’s wrist as he quickly looked for an opening while keeping his phone out of his victim’s reach.

And he spotted it. He held his phone up over Bakugou’s face, and when he tried to snatch it, Iida released the wrist he’d captured in favor of shoving that hand into Bakugou’s exposed armpit.

That previously smug face was caught in full view of the camera as is shifted instantly from shock to splitting open with a loud laugh.

“Y-You fucker!” He barked out, both of his hands retreating to press against his ribcage as he started to writhe a bit. His feet flailed and pushed against the couch behind Iida, a hint of red quickly filling his cheeks as a snort broke out of his chest. He immediately covered his face when the sound escaped, unable to stop the two others that followed it as his free hand tried to slap Iida’s phone again. “Fuck off, four-eyes!” He barely squeaked out through helpless giggles.

Iida’s face lit up as he finally stopped recording, taking a victory lap of sorts by giving a few more teasing scribbles as he navigated his phone with one hand. Bakugou struggled and clutched at Iida’s arm, and the class rep nearly buckled when those nails dug ticklishly into his elbow.

“Ha!” Iida suddenly exclaimed, laughing a bit himself. “I got it!” He grinned playfully down at Bakugou as the group chat came to life from his universal tag.

Sero: HOLY SHIT MAN I WAS KIDDING

Mina: LOL A true king!

Ochacco: He’s so cute!!

The comments went on like that and spurred a bout of conversation in that channel, several of their classmates following Mina’s lead and spamming the video with crown reactions. Half of the ones in attendance were also tagging Bakugou for confirmation, as if this weren’t literally happening right now.

Iida giggled softly, letting his fingers still and pulling his hand back. He turned his phone to give Bakugou a glance. “You’re trending, Katsuki.”

Bakugou panted softly, but his eyes fell on the screen within a second. “I’m always trending, fuckface.” He scoffed, crossing his arms and shrugging.

Iida shook his head and chuckled, scrolling back to play the video back for himself: the way Bakugou broke so quickly from that one spot; pulled his hands in tight and just laughed; The way he smiled and just succumbed to—

Wait a second.

“You…” Iida murmured, his eyes widening slightly as he realized he was still straddling his former victim. “You let me win.”

“Hm?” Bakugou hummed, resting his head on his hand as he propped it on his elbow. “What do you mean~?”

Iida’s face fell into a pout at that playful tone. “Why did you… Why would you?”

“Hm…” Bakugou sighed and hummed, scratching casually at his face and running his free hand through his hair. “Why would I let you win…? Why would I basically throw a bet to let you look good?”

Iida crossed his arms, scooting back slightly as Bakugou moved to sit up.

“Well, I don’t know.” Bakugou sighed with a shrug. “Oh, wait.”

He suddenly lunged forward, and Iida only noticed his phone being snatched from his hand before he was being manhandled. The pair of them wrestled; okay, Iida tried to wrestle, but Bakugou managed to get behind him and yank him back against his chest.

“W-What are you doing?!” Iida cried, attempting to flail as Bakugou’s free arm wrapped across his chest. A squeal jumped out of his mouth as fingers scribbled softly at his ribs.

“Take a wild guess, four-eyes.” Bakugou smirked, wrapping his legs loosely around Iida’s waist before holding up the stolen phone and tapping the screen a few times to start a video call. “Anyone who’s not a fucking coward better get on call right the fuck now.”

“Wait, that’s not fai—!” Iida shrieked as both of their faces appeared in a small window, getting cut off by his own loud giggles when Bakugou started to tickle him again.

The text chat lit up again with shocked comments and laughter before several small windows popped up in the call, with Sero and Ashido, of course, being the loudest.

“This is your king, huh?!” Bakugou asked teasingly, skittering his fingers up and down Iida’s ribs and toward his stomach and smirking broadly at his captive’s writhing. “This giggly, string-bean bitch?!”

“Don’t let him win, Iida!” Ashido laughed, waving at her webcam.

“Pfft, rest in peace, class rep!” Kaminari taunted, and Kirishima covered his mouth with his textbook beside him.

“This is why I don’t play the hashtag games with you guys!” Midoriya insisted, trying not to laugh. “Kacchan’s mean!”

Bakugou chuckled as he watched the text conversations go on beneath the excited chatter on the video call, sneaking his hand up to scribble under Iida’s chin.

“You losers better believe I’m fucking mean.” He growled, grinning wider. “You want a tickle fight; I’ll bring you a fucking war.”

He moved his hand up quickly, pulling Iida’s head close so he could press a loud raspberry against the side of his neck. The class rep’s shriek was parroted by a couple of the girls squealing excitedly along with taunts and jabs from all of them.

“B-Bakugou, please!” Iida whined, trying to paw at Bakugou’s hand as he giggled and laughed.

“Which one of them dies next?”

“What?! I-I—No!” He wailed as Bakugou blew another raspberry on his neck.

“Pick one of them, or I will end this call and find your kill spot.”

There was a chorus of chatter as cameras quickly shut off, but their friends’ voices still cheered them both on. Bakugou’s fingers were attempting to worm under Iida’s arm, and he curled in tight as he laughed a bit louder.

“Tick-tock, bitch~” Bakugou purred, leaning into his neck again.

“Sero! I pick Sero!” Iida cried out, his face running red as he felt Bakugou’s lips pressing gently before pulling away.

“Oh, my gods, you narc!” Sero laughed, and most of the others started to tease him too.

“You heard him, Tapeface. You’d better be ready.” Bakugou growled playfully, curling his fingers into a claw and digging them into Iida’s back to get a good shriek before finally cutting the video call.

Iida leaned heavily against Bakugou’s shoulder, lost in a haze of giggles as the blonde gave him a few more teasing scribbles. Turnabout is fair play, after all. He recognized the sound of his phone’s camera clicking before Bakugou finally gave him a push and slipped out from under him.

“I think #ticklefightwithBakugou is going to need its own channel soon.” Bakugou chuckled, tossing Iida’s phone onto his stomach after another moment.

Iida flinched a bit at the impact, only making a move to catch it when it felt like it would fall. As he finally caught his breath, he looked at the screen. Four new photos: all of them selfies of the pair of them with Bakugou mugging and Iida laughing himself silly; and a fifth one: Bakugou planting a kiss on Iida’s cheek while the boy’s glasses were skewed off of his face.

“Well, four-eyes,” Bakugou called with a sneer, having already made his way halfway to the stairs. “You coming or what?”

Iida blushed again and swallowed the lump in his throat, fixing his glasses before pocketing his phone. “You know what, why not?” He smiled back, hopping up to follow.

It wasn’t until he shook a little magnetic rook from his slipper on the third landing that he remembered the mess they’d left. Bakugou just laughed at him when he suggested they go back.

#bakugou katsuki #iida tenya #tickling #bnha #boku no hero academia #a panda writes a thing #my hero academia

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