#I didn’t expect Hiccup to look so good in hot pink
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Hey, Hey, life in the Dreamhouse. Oh yeah! Life in the Dreamhouse. Barbieeee, life in the Dreeeaaamhouse.
#barbie#I loved this show as a kid#This was originally crack art but it low key turned out…good?#Both Snotlout and Hiccup slay#I didn’t expect Hiccup to look so good in hot pink#Someone please give me an excuse to draw Hiccup in hot pink#Hiccup#Snotlout#crossover art#fanart#digital#boys in dresses#Raquel#life in the dreamhouse#Httyd books
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
UNCONDITIONALLY
gray x gn!reader
modern au
HEAVY angst
warnings: mention/implication of suicidal thoughts/attempts, SH, other mental health struggles
pls don’t read if at any moment anything is too triggering or too much for you. take care of yourselves, you deserve love and all the good things the world has to offer <3
———
you always knew gray’s mental health wasn’t the best. his mother dying in the same accident he thought his father died in when he was a child, his caretaker passing away before makarov adopted him, and finding out his father was alive and had chosen to just stay absent, it would be a lot for anyone. he was quiet, reserved, the complete opposite of the pink-haired hot head lucy had introduced you to. in all honesty, that’s probably what drew you to him. you’d been friends with lucy first and gotten introduced to everyone else a little later on, but you quickly became part of the family.
gray held his friends very near to his heart, even if he did have a hard time showing it, and you were no exception. and as much as you two denied it and insisted on being just friends, everyone knew there was more to it than that, including the two of you. but both of you were too hesitant to say anything and take things further.
you weren’t the only one who knew that gray’s mental health wasn’t in the best state, either. he didn’t like to talk about it directly, or ever really be vulnerable about his emotions. you and natsu were the only ones who’d ever seen him allow any weakness to show through.
but, the phone call you got from cana that day was a shock to everyone. cana was on a trip to visit her dad when she came back to the house she shared with natsu, gray, and erza a day early, expecting the house to be empty. and when she walked into grays room, and found him, it sent everyone’s world off its axis.
you heard lucy let out a scream from her bedroom across the hall, running in as her phone clattered to the floor. through sobs and hiccups, she explains what cana had said on the phone, making a cold sweat coat your body.
your lack of expression was almost scary to lucy as you two drove over to the hospital, planning to meet natsu, erza, and cana there.
when you two arrive and check in, natsu collapses into lucy’s arms, tears pouring from him for the first time in years. erza is keeping an arm around cana, letting the shorter girl cry as a few tears slip down her cheeks as well.
“cana, what happened?”
“i-i don’t know, i came home and i went in his room to ask for something, an-and he was already… like that.” her voice breaks at the end of her sentence, leaning into erza and sobbing all over again.
you gently knock against the wall as you push the curtain to his room out of your way, hesitating at the sight of him.
“shit. hey, (y/n).”
he’s donning a hospital gown, his shaggy hair even messier than normal. there’s bandages covering both his arms, and his skin is terrifyingly pale.
when you step closer, you realize there’s blood soaking through a few of the bandages on his arms, making your stomach turn.
“gray, what did you do?”
“don’t ask a question you don’t want the answer to.”
the sarcasm in his voice makes you so angry that tears begin to pool all your waterline, unable to look him in the eye.
“it’s not your fault.” he cautiously grabs one of your hands, his freezing fingers running over your palm. he was always cold, but something about the icy feeling in his hand didn’t sit well with you.
“then who’s is it.” you’re asking more to yourself, so confused on how it could’ve gotten this far without you or any of your other friends noticing.
“nobody’s. mine, i guess.”
you sit on the edge of the bed, keeping his hand in yours but unable to look at him.
“look, i’m sorry-“
“why? how did it get like this, gray? how did we get here?!”
“i just didn’t wanna do this anymore, (y/n).”
“do what?”
“exist. it’s not like i wanna die, but i don’t know what else to do. i’m so tired and no matter what i do, i still feel this way. and i can’t burden you guys with this, i-“
“you fucking idiot.”
he pauses, staring at you with wide eyes as he realizes that you’re crying. in all the years he’d known you, he’d never seen you cry.
“a burden?! we’re here for you, you fucking moron. isolating yourself isn’t going to do anything except make you feel worse. and nobody cares if you’re not strong all the time gray, you’re a damn human being. we won’t feel any differently about you, and if anyone does i’ll kick their ass. you could tell me that you’re sad about the same shit a thousand times, and it won’t bother me! i’ll listen to you everytime and do whatever it takes to get you away from feeling like that, and i’ll be damned if i let you sit around and struggle all by yourself. you’re not alone, so stop acting like you’ve gotta put everything on your shoulders all by yourself! i love you unconditionally, gray, and you needing help or support from time to time couldn‘t ever change that.”
by now gray is crying with you, listening to your rant in wonderment. he pulls you into a suffocating hug, both of your bodies shaking with sobs.
“(y/n), i’m sorry.”
“please don’t ever do that again.”
he ends up staying another two days at the hospital, and you stay with him the entire time. the rest of your friend group stops by to bring you clothes and other things from home as well as give you a chance to take a breather and just have a few moments to yourself.
gray is staring at his hands from his spot in your passenger seat, music playing quietly as you drive in the direction of his house. you’re refraining from staring at the scars on his arms, the wounds still scabbing over. the hospital had referred him to a pyschiatrist and therapist, and you’d stuck by him for every conversation with the doctors and nurses, keeping his hand in yours and feeling him squeeze your knuckles as he tried to keep his nerves hidden. and he hadn’t brought it up, but he’d heard you crying at night, when you thought he was asleep, mumbling to yourself about how you let this happen and what more you could’ve done.
“i’m really sorry.”
“gray, you don’t have to keep apologizing.”
“no, i made you cry. i promised myself if anyone ever made you cry i’d fuck them up. but i’m the one that did it.”
you look across the car at him, chuckling as you shake your head.
“it’s not funny, (y/n), i’m serious.”
“i’m just amazed that after all that, you’re worried about me.”
he breaks into a grin, hesitating as he reaches for your hand.
“well, that’s what you do for the person you love.” he says softly, intertwining his fingers with yours and kissing the back of your palm.
#fairy tail#fairy tail gray#gray fullbuster#gray x reader#gray fullbuster x reader#fairy tail angst#angst
157 notes
·
View notes
Text
Show Me A Good Time
Pairing: Hyunjin x Female Reader (ft. voyeur Minho)
Genre: Smut, Light humor
Rating: Explicit
WC: 2.2k+
Tags: Smut, accidental voyeurism turned voyeurism, light humor
Summary: Seeing you make his best friend so happy never ceases to make him happy and vice versa. He loves seeing love in all forms; though this may be seeing you and Hyunjin’s love just a bit too much to be appropriate. Maybe Minho will remember to close his doors fully next time.
"Hyu-- Honey.." your soft voice filtered up into the air along with an airy moan, echoing.
"Yeah? Is it good?" Hyunjin's voice answered yours in a low tone. “That good? Baby my sheets are getting so dirty because of you~”
Minho was confused, groggy from sleep. The clock glared an obnoxious light of numbers, changing to 3:01 am. Was he dreaming? Maybe he's in a weird alternative middle ground again or something… It wasn't often he would have suggestive dreams regarding his roommate and his roommate's girlfriend. But it can happen; seeing them be so cute and happy together with the silly banter, inappropriate comments do happen also. The soft, slick sounds of kissing and slurping on the other hand were too high and sharp to be his dream-lagged mind. (Possibly… He does have a habit of daydreaming) He rubbed at his eyes as he was going to get up but a sharp moan stopped him in his tracks.
His eyesight came into a sharp focus towards the bathroom since it was between the rooms connecting them both in a roommate suite. His door was slightly ajar as Hyunjin's was open. Completely open with a reflection of the bedside lamp, Hyunjin’s room was … Giving Minho a full view of the activity going on with you and Hyunjin.
Of you two in bed preparing to fuck. Heavens why did you two have to go at it at this hour? Do you two not know how to sleep?
You were breathless against the gray cotton sheets, body shiny with a thin layer of sweat in a sweet arch that he didn’t think was comfortable but you could care less about. Another moan rippling from your lips as your legs slid further down on the bed. Hyunjin himself just seemed to be in his boxers for the time being but his body also had a layer of sweat to match, hair wet, and sorta curled up at the ends. A shift and you moaned hard for him.
Fading pink and mostly blonde hair shifted as the male lifted his head to tilt it innocently. “You have to be quiet sweetheart. Do I need to keep your mouth occupied?”
A view of your head thrown back from the pleasure Hyunjin was giving between your legs, his grip tight enough on the inner part of your thighs. The way your hips tried to roll against the male’s face or fingers but was stopped when his grip adjusted to press your hips against the bed more. Minho could tell Hyunjin was looking up at your face with that grin he loved to use when he was particularly enjoying the torture. The blonde didn’t have his mouth on you right now in combination, for the fingers quickly going in and out of your wet core were doing wonders he was guessing. He mentally thought how long Hyunjin was down there lapping at the juices coating his hand. Or if Hyunjin has already made you cum once or twice.
“Maybe if you would just… Fuckin’ gimme..” Your voice waivers from another plunge of Hyunjin’s fingers into you, gripping his free hand to immediately shove a couple of fingers into your mouth.
The male’s mouth dropped open at the same time Hyunjin spluttered your name in a whimper. You flicked your tongue around three of his fingers sloppily, slurping and making Hyunjin stop to focus on punishing your mouth. You took it in stride as more spittle fell onto your chest with a muffled groan. He pressed down harshly to make you open your mouth wide, even rubbing the pad of his fingers onto your tongue.
“Mm ready Hyunnie. M’ready now.'' He watched you plead, in that whiny voice you reserve to try and get what you want once your mouth was free.
The male mimicked you as he sat up to look down at you. He demanded you to say it again. With lips shiny from spit your mouth opened again to repeat yourself. And again. And again, the tone turned just that tad more demanding that Minho’s own body heated up in response.
Minho always caved under it no matter what you asked for when you got petulant. (He was weak for you and he believed his best friend knew it too.) This was going in his spank bank, he’ll feel guilty about it later. He slid his hand into his boxers and gripped himself, biting his lip hard to keep his noise of satisfaction at bay, realizing he was already leaking enough pre-cum to make the slide against his dick easier. He should feel guilty but right now he was too hard, his mind on wanting to watch you two until the end.
“Are you darling? Think you’re soaked enough?” a hummed out question, probably rhetorical. Hyunjin didn’t even let you answer before he continued, “Maybe you can have it now if you ride me pretty. Can you do that?”
Minho gyrated his hips into his hand lightly, eyes taking in everything as you pulled your boyfriend in for a deep kiss. Groans and whimpers being swallowed by each other. Fuck… What he wouldn't give to see you on top of his cock, letting him sink deep into the most intimate parts of your beautiful body and carve his shape in. Kiss and mark your skin besides Hyunjin’s finger bruises.
Hyunjin pulled back with a satisfied sigh at your drenched core and brought his hand down to his aching dick to ready himself. Wrapping his fingers to coat around the dripping head, down the slight curve to the base for a quick squeeze with a harsh moan of your name. Both you and Minho watched; you more so turned on and ready but he did more to assess it.
Not to say his best friend has a pretty dick… But Minho thinks it’s a pretty dick to match his pretty best friend indeed. So pretty he wondered if you were going to stretch your lips around it.
Do you deep throat? Do you tease with kisses and avoid his arousal completely? Would you let Hyunjin fuck your mouth as you gag with spittle and cum sliding down your face? Or maybe you two kiss after you take his load?
He was glad his free hand was in front of his face due to holding back a whimper. His hips kicking into the tight fist of his hand, his eyes were drinking in your frame as you sink slowly onto Hyunjin’s lap, thighs drenched in your juices that the squelching sound echoed loudly.
“Nngh-- Finally I’ve been waiting for this all day. It’s so good.”
Your hands glide up your body with the first roll of your hips onto Hyunjin’s with a pace that screams payback. The slow and dirty kind, the grind so hard that you had Hyunjin bruising up your thighs and hips with the tight hold on your body.
He looked up your frame with love and teasing, voice coming out in a broken husk “Come on baby you said you waited for this--”
Minho slowed the movement of his hand over his cock, following along with what seemed to be a hell of a ride. He snuck some extra lube into his hand for the easier glide and to not cum so early.
"I did say that didn't I?", a hiccuping giggle left your throat as your loving boyfriend kicked his hips up. "It's my turn to have a l-little fun too." Your lips left little blooming marks upon the slate of salty skin and lean muscle as you rode him slowly. Sometimes your hips would leave Hyunjin’s so you could look at him twitch, shiver from the cooler air on his heated skin then drop down hard onto his cock yet again.
You alternated this for a while and caressed your body, sighing from a particular roll or whimpering when the blonde sped up the pace for a bit. Minho was drooling onto his pillow and his own skin was hot and sweaty in its rising temperature. His best friend caresses and gropes where he can reach as he praises you. “Feeling good?”
“Mmm yea, roll your hips just.. just like that.”
“Squeezing me like you don’t want me to leave you, that’s fucking hot--”
You squeezed around him when you raised up before dropping down so hard that you watched blonde hair fly back in undeniable pleasure-- what you didn't expect was the loud ass THWACK to resonate in the room. Hyunjin groans (in a non-sexy way, that’s gonna leave a bump--) while holding the back of his head and wiggling underneath you. Curses flew from both of you as it made you laugh loudly.
"Honey! Aaaha--" a wheeze "Honey are you ok--" another wheeze "Okay? Fuck that sounded like it hurt.."
"Pussy so good I lost my head for a second there--" he hissed out. His eyes were closed tightly, grin goofy despite the obvious pain with him slapping at the air in your direction, "You're loud! Don't wake up Minho!" But your cackling echoed into Minho’s room too.
Said male was stifling his laughter into his pillow, heart full watching you two take care of the situation while laughing. Knowing that you'd stop everything to check on your boyfriends’ well being made a little envy burn in his chest, but he pushed that away when his dick throbbed from you guys laughing again.
Really dick? At a time like this? Laughing shouldn’t be sexy you know--
"If your damn headbang didn't wake him up before my laughter then I dunno what to tell you."
A gentle ass smack here, "Cheeky brat!"
"Who's being loud now~? You want Minho to hear you?" You questioned the blonde, not missing the way his cock jerked against your walls.
"Oh?" The may you said that to Hyunjin had Minho’s hand grabbing his dick tight yet again, playing at the base near his sack.
Now he sees that you guys changed positions so Hyunjin's head was at the bottom of the bed, feet touching the headboard. His best friend looked sheepish when you placed a pillow underneath his head. You still cooing at him and massaging his scalp while talking to him; agreeing that it would be a slow sex night after all. Exchanging a few deep kisses, Minho's rapidly paying attention again when Hyunjin goes to lay back down. Your hips sinking down onto Hyunjin’s cock (which was still hard... Minho wonders yet again if his friend likes pain--) moving back to its up and down motion. Occasionally he'd play with his tip and sigh, eyes starting to slip closed…
"Don't think I missed that little tidbit, Hyunjin.."
Hyunjin moaned your name high from his throat when you scratched down his chest, "Miss wh--"
A slow corner smirk appeared, nonchalance lacing every word. "The fact that your dick twitched when I said Minho's name."
Hyunjin's face was red with a wide-eyed stare towards you, not knowing how to proceed with that. Minho in his bed was wide-eyed to match, ears heated in surprise and cock weeping just a bit more at that thought. Fuck did Hyunjin find him attractive sexually too?
"We'll be able to talk about that later. Hm?" You pant and grind harder, "Wanna be loud next time for your best friend then too. Maybe he can join--"
Hyunjin's moan was even higher this time, gripping your waist hard with a blown outlook as you leaned back to ride. Legs spread farther so his cock could reach even deeper into your body. When his hips began to meet yours you felt euphoric, his tip kissing your g-spot with ease now. It was deeper but still a leisurely pace.
Minho forwent that pace and was trying his best to stay quiet as he fucked his fist again, his other hand sliding under his shirt to tug his hard nipples. His mind produced so many scenarios of how he'd have you bent over, folded, split on his cock while he kissed you over and over again.
A tremble skittered up into your chest, mouth running off now. "O-Oh? You'd like that babe? Would you watch him fuck me?"
"Shhhiiit yes…" he groaned deep, his face still sporting that strawberry hue on his sweaty skin. "Wanna see your lips around his cock--"
"I wanna see yours around his cock too, Jinnie. Minnie wouldn't know what to do--"
Both of you were whimpering and moaning loudly, uncaring of the noise level now that you two were so deep into the pleasure that clouded minds. Minho listened, his own soft whines joining into the fray of noise. How you two talked about the positions, the possibility of whose mouth did what to his body, or what fingers went where. Even how every surface of the house would be a new surface to fuck on if he did accept the proposal.
Yes yes, I would accept. He thought, hand blurring over his cock as his orgasm began to coil. Tugging his puffy nipples, a look of bliss casts over his face at the mere thought of the chance. He imagined him getting his cock rode by Hyunjin, you by their side as you marked his neck or kissed him filthy. As the two of you played with him, making his voice reach pitches he never thought of. Hyunjin's shout of your name as he came, made Minho crash through his orgasm with a low and long whine; a combination of both your names like a prayer. He was still riding out his high when you came a bit after with Hyunjin’s name on your lips.
All three of you were spent, Minho staying still and suddenly sleepy again. You slumped over Hyunjin’s side and shared tired kisses while wiping each other down with baby wipes. He should clean up before he had a bigger mess in the morning but he was drifting off to your voice murmuring jokes and Hyunjin’s squeaky laugh.
With his mind fizzed out he succumbed to sleep, he dreamed of hand holding and chaste kisses this time. Shy smiles and embarrasing laughter on outings with his favorite two people in the world.
The clean up is for future Minho anyways, he’s gonna enjoy his nutting experience to the fullest.
Future Minho would like to beat up Past Minho’s ass. Since Future Minho was stuck with the embarrassment of being woken up by you giggling over the mess in his bed; making some excuse of a pretty good ass dream. Curse you Past Minho! Curse you!
340 notes
·
View notes
Text
backseat care
kyotani x f!reader sum: getting elbowed in the face at a concert isn’t new for you, but at least this time it’s by a hot guy cw: 18+ minors dni, nsfw, minor accidental violence (reader gets a bloody nose/split lip from kyo), mentions of blood, mentions of alcohol (but no one is drunk), slight public sex/car sex, oral (f!receiving), slight overstim, creampie, strangers to lovers wc: 2.4k a/n: i have had such bad writers block lately, but i’ve been wanting to write more kyo content for so long and i miss going to loud basement shows so why not combine both also there’s a longish intro just an fyi
the amount of pain from the limb crashing into your face isn’t all that different from what you’ve felt before. things get messy in the pit, you know that, but when you reach up to wipe the sweat from your upper lip you realize it smells a lot more like copper. just as your nose starts to leak the assailant spins around, looking as if he’s about to tell you off for getting in the way of his arm before his expression drops.
kyotani can’t believe he just gave the prettiest girl he’s ever seen a bloody nose and split lip. your head is tilted down, desperately trying to catch the blood in your palms as you cover up the bottom part of your face. the lights are flashing and it’s dark, but he feels like he can see all of you.
“i’m sorry.” he huffs over the music.
“it’s fine, i’m just gonna, uhh...” you choke out, lightly pinching your nose with a little wince.
“c’mon,” he sighed, “let’s go see if there’s a first aid kit around.” he was already grabbing your arm and dragging you out of the mess of people before you could respond. his firm grip made your mind wander, momentarily distracted from the mess that was your face.
after scrounging the dingy, cramped space for close to five minutes, he gives a defeated huff.
“nothing?” you asked nasally, the blood finally slowing to a crawl. he shakes his head, eyebrows tightening together even more.
“i have a kit in my car if you’re okay with that.”
“tell me your name and promise you won’t murder me?” you breathe out, already texting the friend you came with about your little injury and that you were stepping out with a stranger. “you don’t really look creepy, but you never know.”
“kentarō kyōtani and no.” he quips back, still guiding you with his hand clamped around your arm out of the building.
the cool night air runs right through your body, quelling the hotness that’s built up in your face. thankfully, his car is only two spots away from the exit. it’s tiny and black with two thin silver stripes that remind you of the ones that run through his hair, giving him a pseudo-mohawk.
he opens up the rear door, grabbing a box from the floor and motioning for you to sit, of which you happily oblige. under the dim light the car gives off you can clearly see his honey brown eyes and the way his eyeliner is smudged around.
“does it feel broken?” he asks about your nose, cautiously grabbing your chin to inspect the injuries.
“no, i don’t think so. my mouth really hurts though.” you mumble out, heart racing under his calloused touch.
“good, it doesn’t look broken. and your lip is a little split.” he rummages through the kit, pulling out a wipe that he carefully rubs along your face where the blood has caked and dried.
“you’re pretty good at this, go to lots of rough shows?” you awkwardly break the tense quiet, trying to not move your lips much as you talk.
“no, i play volleyball.” he says simply. it’s impossible for you to really tell whether it’s a joke or not, but out of gut reaction you laugh. “i’m not kidding,” he sighs, tossing the dirty wipe in a small trash carrier inside the car and pulling a tiny pad from the kit to press to your open lip.
“oh, sorry, really? that’s pretty cool. didn’t realize volleyball was really a big contact sport. though i guess you could get hit in the face with the ball a lot.”
“don’t get hit a ton in the face in Division 2 volleyball, but you can fall hard.”
another moment of silence passes when he takes the padding away from your lip and inspects your face once again. although your heart hasn’t slowed, it seems he’s just realized how close you’re faces are and how he’s kneeling between your thighs that keep twitching every time he leans in a little closer.
“i wouldn’t expect a, uh, a professional volleyball player at a place like this.” voice all spluttery like you can’t control it.
“you shouldn’t assume things about people.” he says simply, not moving a muscle. “your lips look better now,” he’s whispering now, the smooth vibrations of his voice echoing around in your head like a bouncy ball, “wanna try them out?”
part of you wants to laugh at how cheesy his words are, but more of you is interested in how his lips would feel against yours. he doesn’t move a muscle, the needy feeling that’s burning inside of him can’t be seen through his eyes, but you catch it in the way his jaw tenses while he patiently waits for your answer.
“that’s a great idea,” you whisper back as his face closes in on yours.
his motions are gentle and measured, it’s easy to tell he’s holding back by the way his hands twitch against your waist. carefully, he’s avoiding the edge of your lip where it’s still bruised and open, but as he presses harder and harder into you, the pain grows. nothing about the kiss is nice - everything tastes of cheap beer, blood, sweat, and disinfectant, but it feels good.
it feels as though his clawing fingers are burning into your sides, forcing you further into the backseat of the car. letting yourself willingly move back, he clumsily reaches up to snap the automatic light off in the roof, not quite closing the door all the way behind him.
when his teeth scrape against your wound, you let out a small yelp against your own will. before the noise is even done coming out of your mouth, he pulls away, adjusting so he isn’t crushing you so hard into the seats, and cradling your face.
“sorry,” you pant out, “just hurts a little.”
at this angle he can see how little tears have pricked in the edge of your eyes, purely from the gentle stinging pain. it hurts his heart a little that he’s caused you some pain, but you look so pretty like this with your teary eyes and pink tongue sticking out as you quietly gasp for air.
“let’s give you a little break, huh.” he chuckles, sitting back on his heels and grabbing your knees to hook over his shoulders. it takes a minute for your foggy brain to realize what’s happening, but as he lowers himself between your thighs, the sight makes you clench around nothing and everything clicks into place.
suddenly you’re glad you wore a skirt. he nips up your already shaking thighs, eyes locked between your legs groaning at the pretty panties that were clinging to the slickness of your folds. he flips your skirt up, pressing your knees tighter to your body when his broad shoulders lift your legs higher.
“please...?” you whimper when you feel his breath against you.
“need to cum?” he questions, teasingly, mouthing over your clothed cunt.
“yes, please, wanna cum.” hips barely jerking under him, desperate for anything.
“pfft, i can tell. so wet already.” kyōtani mumbles into you just before he reaches his arms around your legs and rests them just above your pelvis, using one hand to pull aside the thin fabric. before the cool air could even hit your exposed flesh, his mouth came down on you, messily lapping up your slit, tasting you completely before he began to circle your clit.
when he finally arrives at your sensitive, little bud your hips involuntarily twitch against him, begging for release. hot breaths and moans filled up the space of the car, barely escaping through the tiny crack where the backdoor wasn’t completely closed, just resting against the hinge.
the small fear of being caught or seen urged you on, encouraging you to cum as fast as you could. not that you really needed to do much when he had such great control of his tongue and two of his fingers easily slipped past your entrance, curling against your spongey walls.
“k-kentarō!” you squeaked out, waves of relief edging up on you, “gonna cum, please, gonna cum.” the words came out like a broken record, separated by little hiccupped moans.
“asking permission?” his low laugh vibrated across you skin. “that’s cute.” as soon as the words were out, he went back lapping and sucking your swollen clit.
it only took moments for you to fall into your high, body squirming under him, limbs twitching in time with the way your cunt clamped around his fingers that just kept pumping into you. all the while his mouth didn’t stop, he didn’t even hesitate.
he just kept lapping up your clit until your nails were digging into his wrist that was resting on your tummy, sobbing out moans. you didn’t want him to stop but the feeling was overwhelming, like you couldn’t stop cumming. briefly, you wondered if it was always supposed to be like this, body and brain turning fuzzy as he finally slowed enough for you to rest.
the little whine you let out when he took his fingers from your pulsing hole made him grind his hips into the seat. you let out a low groan as you watched him stick his fingers into his mouth and suck them clean, his eyes never leaving yours.
“feel good?” he grumbles out, languidly flattening his tongue against you to take another slow lap.
it’s nearly impossible to focus with the way he’s touching you, but you manage out the words you want to say. “uh-huh, want...want more.” you shyly make out.
“more?” one of his angled brows shoots up before he shrugs and roughly laps against your clit. body betraying you, it crumbles under him, hips already bucking up into his nose again before you can reach down and drag him off of you by his short curls.
“no...no,” you gasp, “want your cock.”
his eyes soften for a second before the expression is replaced with something a little more feral. “why not just say so.” he hums, pants already unbuttoned, pulling them down just enough so his cock can slip out.
you can’t help the gasp that breaks past your lips. it’s embarrassing, but he’s beautiful and you’re sure that his pretty cock could fill you up two times over. before you bask too much in the pleasantness of the moment, he reaches down to tear at your panties.
“hey!” you yelp, unable to do much with your ankles still propped up on his shoulders.
“eh, there was a pull in the seam anyway.” he says back lamely, leaning back in so he can loom over you, smirking when his cock slaps against your folds and you squirm under him.
“i...i liked them.” you pout, trying to ignore the burn between your legs. he presses a hot kiss against your jaw and licks up the shell of your ear. admittedly, he liked them quite a bit too.
“go on a real date with me sometime and i’ll get you a new pair.” his hips rut against yours, rubbing the tip of his cock against your still sensitive folds.
“oh, uhh- okay, yeah.” surprised by his proposition, but already hoping you’d meet him again, you quickly agree.
“good.” he says while he lines himself, pushing in and trying to ignore how tightly you were clenching around him. his thumb comes down on your clit, rubbing tight circles to get you to settle as he bottomed out.
your eyes didn’t deceive you, he certainly filled you to the brim and he knew how to use his entire body. still so close from his prior ministrations you found yourself already shuddering under his touch, the coil in your belly snapping even more harshly this time as you came undone around his cock.
he shallowly pumped into you, getting you used to the size while you squeezed and sucked him in.
“feel so good,” he grunts, “want me to fuck this pretty pussy?”
it’s not a real question, not when you’re arching into him, whimpering and moaning incoherencies, but you quickly nod to answer anyway. his grin makes your heart race, and he hurries to pull out nearly all the way before slamming back into you, setting a quick pace from the start.
you have the brace the back of your head to stop it from crashing into the car door as he rams you into the seats, body at the will of his harsh thrusts. mouth open in a silent scream, only choked whines crack out from your throat that he quickly swallows up with a messy kiss.
pent up from the entire day and the ghost of the taste of your cunt still on his lips, he feels himself getting close, encouraged on by the way you keep fluttering around him. as if sensing, by the way his kiss tightens up and his arms tense, you pull away and nod up at him.
“want you to cum in me.” you quickly assure him.
he lets out a sharp gasp, hips already stuttering against yours as he nods back in silent agreement. swallowing hard, he rests his head against your shoulder, letting his hips fall against yours, cock twitching against your aching, gummy walls, filling you with cum.
after his labored breathing slows and you relax under him, he presses a soft kiss to your cheek and steadily sits up and pulls out. the gasp you let out when you’re empty is nearly enough to make his cock twitch again, but he holds back. he watches as your poor cunt quivers around nothing, eyeing the way his cum slowly dribbles out of you.
achingly, you sit up when he lets your legs slide off his arms, leaning against the car door closest to you to get a good look at him while he tucks himself back into his pants, ignoring the messy, stickiness between his legs for now. you feel the mix of cum between your legs start to seep out, tightly closing your thighs to keep from making a mess on his car seats.
grabbing your phone from where it had fallen onto the floor, you toss it at him before grabbing your destroyed panties off the spot in the bench between the two of you.
“put your number in. we can go shopping this weekend.” you sigh with a soft smile. for once, getting a dumb injury at a shitty show was worth your while.
#kyotani x reader#kyotani smut#hq smut#kyotani kentaro x reader#kentarou x reader#maddog x reader#maddog smut
624 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey I really love your writing, love how you describe each character. Is it ok if I request some Suna smut in a pool?? I saw a tiktok about it and I think you’d be the best person for it
Here’s the link:
https://vm.tiktok.com/ZSGc7yax/
Even if you can’t write, I hope you enjoy the tiktok✨
i’m so honored ty so much for this request!! i hope you like this!!! also omg watching the tiktok i was like hm okay suna, neon pool that’s hot, osamu, kitchen sex great, and then it was kita and a FARM???? bdshjdbskjd
anyways! warnings; unprotected semi-public sex under the cut, they fuck in a pool basically, some praise too, probably some mistakes im sorry dbshdk
━ the floor’s tiles feel cold against the skin of your forearms as you lean forward towards the edge of the pool, folding your arms and resting your cheek in the crook of your elbow. your lower body sways slightly from the ripple of waves you’d made swimming over here, until it gently calms, lulling you with a sigh. with the dim lighting of the room, and the calm, fluorescent, pink light illuminating from within the pool’s walls itself, you find yourself slowly dozing off, your breathing steadily evening out, the cold water long since heated to your body’s accommodation.
“don’t go fallin’ asleep on me now.” the voice is clearer, and closer, than you’d expected, and when you lift your head and tilt it slightly, you’re greeted with your boyfriend’s sultry smile. his arms are quick at finding their way around your middle, and he ducks down, pressing his face into the damp crook of your neck.
you sigh, lifting yourself up away from the edge, leaning more into his touch as the simple ghost of his lips turns into timid, gentle kisses. humming appreciatively, you lift an arm up, towards the messy, wet strands of his hair, carding your fingers generously through them, tugging lightly, just the way he likes it. “you feel so nice like this,” you confess in a low voice, and the light kisses he trails along your neck and shoulder cease for a moment, before you hear him sigh deeply.
“you can’t jus’ say things like that,” he groans.
you laugh, mindful of the way his arms tighten around you. “like what?” you tease. “i didn’t mean it like that.”
instead of replying, suna hotly presses his mouth near your pulse point, before he starts to kiss and suck. you’ve always known of his infatuation with your neck, with the way he’d constantly bury his face there, marking you purple and blue for everyone else to see. you don’t think it’s as much of a possessive thing as it is a mere fetish, but it satisfies him all the same.
he continues kiss along your neck, occasionally grazing his teeth along your skin, while his hands daringly travel up higher and higher. you’re in a rather revealing bathing suit, leaving little to imagination, and his appreciation of it is confirmed when he cups your breasts, his large hands squeezing roughly and tugging slightly.
“rin, not here,” you have half a mind to say, because you’re not exactly in the most private location, and while there exist no security cameras in the pool area of the hotel you’re in, you don’t hold the key to the lock, and there’s always the chance of getting caught. “someone could walk in.”
“let them,” he quickly retorts, his voice gruffer. his relentless tugging at the top half of your bathing suit has already halfway slipped it off, the strings of it no match for his desire for you.
“we’ll make a mess,” you reason, but even you are succumbing to his touches. “we always make a mess.” your nipples are freed from the wet suit as he gives it one last harsh tug, and the strings pull at your neck, falling away off your shoulders, and he tosses it carelessly aside outside of the pool. you flinch and gasp in sensitivity as the cold water of the pool hits your nipples, hardening the buds considerably.
his fingers are quick to pinch at them, rolling them dexterously between his thumb and pointer finger as he whispers against your ear, “then i’ll just have to cum inside of you.” you bite at your tongue to prevent the moan that builds at your throat, muffling it barely as he adds, “you’ll be a good girl ‘n keep it all in, yeah?”
his mouth resumes its work on your neck as you finally relax in his hold, leaning your head back and giving him more access to your throat. your back arches into his touch as he pinches and tugs and squeezes at your nipples and breasts. “my baby’s got the prettiest tits, hm?” he says, urging you to arch your back further as he tugs harshly at your nipples, pulling his fingers away from your body and forcing you to lean forward so you’re not in too much pain.
“please, rin,” you moan. “be quick.”
you hear him grunt, and a few seconds later, his hands leave your breasts. you don’t get to mourn the loss for long, but a whine still leaves your lips as his hands slip to your waist. he thumbs at the lower half of your bathing suit, fingers slipping past the boundary. “i’ve always wanted to do this with you,” he admits to you, his fingers slipping further until they meet the heat of your cunt. your gasping moans urge his fingers further, until he’s slipping one inside of you, eased by your wetness. “seems like you feel the same,” he teases, and you sigh in annoyance, gritting your teeth.
you’re unable to stop yourself from rolling your hips in time with the slow thrust of his finger. he leaves you a panting mess, breasts softly bouncing among the water, causing gentle waves every time you rock back into him. he adds another finger, curling it deftly inside of you that he has your gasps turning into breathless squeals.
“fuck this,” you hear him say, impatience evident in his tone as he pulls his fingers out of you, forcing you to slump forward. you’re shivering from both the cold hair that nips at your skin, and the overwhelming desired state he’s left you in. your hands grip the edge of the pool, and you arch your back, pushing your ass closer to him.
his hands meet your skin again, and he quickly grips the waistline of your bathing suit, tugging it down your legs. you do the rest of the work, urging it lower and slipping one foot out until it rests at one ankle. “move up,” he asks of you, and you comply, shifting forward, closer to the edge of the pool, until the hands on your waist grip you to keep you steady. he has you where he wants you, your breasts barely grazing the top of the water, leaving your body tight and trembling.
“rin,” you warn. “rin, come on.”
to prove your point, you push your hips out again, desperate for his touch, and he laughs, “alright, alright, calm, baby.” he grips his hardened cock in his hand, his own suit pushed just beneath his balls, as he shifts closer to you. “i’ll give it to ya,” he promises, his voice clearly deeper. with his free hand gripping your hip tightly, keeping you in place, he nudges your legs further apart by knocking his ankle against yours. when you’re nice and spread out, bent over for him, he presses the tip of his cock against your soaking cunt.
mesmerized by the way it looks beneath the water, a little distorted but also highlighted with the illumination of the neon colors within the pool, he watches as his cock sinks deeper and deeper within you, as your hips push against him to urge him further within you, as you take more, and more, and more of him, until he’s bottomed out, his hips resting against yours.
“hngh, fuck,” he curses, and shit if only he had his phone near him right now.
“feel good,” you breathe out, rolling your hips slightly while keeping him fully sheathed within you. “feel so good.”
he hums in agreement, tossing his head back slightly, his eyes fluttering shut as the hands on your hips guide your movements, encouraging them. his cock remains inside of you, twitching with every roll of your hips. “yeah,” he agrees, carefully leaning forward, the angle deepening his cock even more than you thought possible, brushing against your sensitive spot. his lips hover by your spine, painting little gasps along your skin as he trails up to your neck. “yeah, feel so good,” he repeats after you, then finally, he rocks his hips back, pulling his cock out slightly, before he thrusts back in.
you yell out accidentally, but suna’s quick to react, one hand flying up to clasp over your mouth, muffling your scream. your moans hiccup and drag out, your mouth remaining open against his palm as he fucks into you, not too fast, but oh so deep. the noises that leave you, accompanying the slosh of water as your hips join against his, sounds like something you’d hear in a porn video, and the thought leaves you blushing from the tips of your ears down to your chest.
but you assume that it’s not just the thought that leaves you flustered.
you can feel the bulge of his biceps tightening as he lifts himself up slightly, shifting behind you, his cock continuously thrusting inside of you, marking you. you attempt to push your hips back to meet him in time of his thrusts, but by the way he’s quickening, you find it harder and harder to match up to his pace.
“rin, rin, rin,” you mewl against his palm, and his breathing stutters.
“fuck,” he groans, the quickness of his thrusts forcing your forward. “fuck, you’re so perfect for me.” you whine at his words, and his hand leaves your mouth free. your head falls forward, no longer held up by his grasp against your lips. you hear him grunt sharply, before his hand twists in your wet, tangled hair, and he pulls you up suddenly. a sob wretches from your throat at the action and the change in angle, and fuck, you can feel him in your stomach at this point.
you toss your head back, resting it against his shoulder as one of your hands comes up to squeeze at your breast. all worries of being caught have vanished from your mind, your brain completely clouded by the desire he drowns you in. “play with yourself, doll,” he encourages. “make yourself cum on my cock.”
it sounds so sinful falling from his lips, and fuck, suna’s always been a dirty talker, a smooth one too, and you’re sure at some point he’s made you cum from his words only. you obey his command, mumbling incoherently, “love you rin, always feel so fucking good,” one hand remaining on your breast, the other sinking beneath the water to rub circles at your clit. you’re sent over the edge almost immediately, your body doubling over, held up by his strong arm around your middle and steadied by his hand on your hip as your legs shaking uncontrollably beneath the water.
he continues to hold you to him, fucking you through your orgasm, then using your spent body to bring himself over the edge. he cums with a shout, a yell buried in your shoulder, his eyes shutting tightly and his mouth falling open in endless gasps. he hadn’t been bluffing when he’d said he’d fill you up, and he sticks to his word, his cock buried deep inside of you as it paints your inner walls white, spasming and twitching.
wordlessly, he leans down slightly while still gathering his breath, wrapping both arms around you before lifting you up, his cock slipping out of you consequently.
“rin, wha—“ you squeal as he pushes you up, bending you over the edge, pressing your upper body against the colder surface of the floor, your nipples hardening impossibly at the cold. “what are you doing?” you ask, your hands flat against the ground, keeping you steady.
you feel his hand urging your angle up, bending your legs as he pulls your foot through the bathing suit, sliding it up your legs. ah, so that’s what he—
“rintarō!”
unexpectedly, two of his fingers push inside of you, and your cunt spams around him, from both the suddenness of the action and from the sensitivity.
“what?” he asks innocently, his fingers pushing deeper, twisting inside of you. “you said you’d keep it all in,” he reminds you, giving his fingers an experimental, spiteful curl, before mercifully pulling them out, and finally dragging your bathing suit over the curve of your ass.
“you done?” you deadpan, throwing him a look over your shoulder.
in response, he lazily grins at you, giving your ass two small pats as he admits, “not entirely.” with his hands braced on the edge, he lifts himself up, and you’re graced with the view of his tight biceps and his broad chest, abs taut and rolling as he breathes carefully. then, he leans over, hands on either side of you, as he adds, “wanna fuck you in the shower, then bend you over every surface of our hotel room.”
fuck — fuck he’s so good with his mouth.
with a gentle kiss pressed to your shoulder, he wonders, “how’s that sound, pretty baby?”
and who are you to object to someone with as sinister of a mouth as him?
end note; 👁👁
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smut#suna smut#suna rintarou smut#suna x reader#suna rinatarou x reader#suna rinatro x reader#hq smut
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
calculated iii, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: You wanted to say that you were able to control yourself around him and not to have wild sex at school. But this is Jeon Jungkook we’re talking about. And what Jungkook wants, Jungkook gets. You wore that pencil skirt for a reason, after all.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, dirty talk, nipple play, choking, m-receiving oral, gagging, pussy spanking, fingering, penetrative sex); fluff; non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft Jimin once again, lol
–
part i | part ii | part iii | part iv
-
Career Week was somewhat of a nightmare.
So much running around, prepping tables, setting up presentations, helping the guests with their computers before their seminars, and you had to be dressed professionally too. Not just ‘nice’ clothes, but white dress shirt, slim black tie, tailored black vest, and matching fitted black slacks. It had to be monotone, it had to be hyper professional, and you had to wear heels.
Why had you agreed to this again?
Oh, yes, Kim Namjoon on his knees begging for help because he was overworked and they needed volunteers. And you, being far too responsible, accepted.
Not only were you also overworked, but Jeon Jungkook was staring at you across the auditorium.
In all-black – leather jacket, high-necked shirt, slim-fit jeans. Sharp jawline, tanned high cheekbones, piercing dark brown eyes, his black hair pushed back with a few strands on his forehead, revealing his clean undercut.
And he was smirking at you.
You highly doubted he was here to investigate prospective career paths. Actually, you were a hundred-and-ten percent positive that that was not the reason he was here and the soreness between your inner thighs proved it. You were willing to bet Park Jimin’s right nutsack.
Yeah, sorry Jimin, but you needed all your body parts.
For one reason, really, and that reason was staring you right now.
Who was going to hire him when he was dressed like that anyway? You certainly wouldn’t. Mostly because it was distracting. No one could work with Jeon Jungkook looking like that. You couldn’t, anyway. Well, maybe if his work was wrecking your–
Get back to your damn task, you scolded yourself.
You were setting up chairs for the cardiologist that was arriving soon. All the doctors always had tons of students listening, so the administration instructed you to pack as many seats that could be crammed into the space without causing a fire hazard. You unfolded the metal chairs, arranging them neatly, already knowing they would be an incomprehensible mess when the students left and that you would be the one cleaning up after them.
Sigh.
Come to think of it, it was all Park Jimin’s fault that you were being violently undressed by Jungkook’s eyes right now. If he had kept his trap shut and let you live in blissful ignorance, maybe you wouldn’t be trying to hide your wincing every time you bent over. You snuck a glance at Jungkook.
He cocked an eyebrow, highly amused.
Never mind, you probably still would have been accosted at Calculus I office hours, except instead of the door being closed and locked and having Jimin’s warning texts, you two probably would have been caught and expelled.
You grumbled and slid a chair into place, taking back your former thoughts and thanking Jimin in your mind. He wasn’t even here to witness your inner struggle.
Jimin probably would have found it funny.
You went back to your chairs, not addressing Jeon Jungkook’s presence anymore because if you looked at him again, you probably would have abandoned your post. And he knew it.
-
The next day, you already knew Jungkook would show up again. Mostly because he texted you a winking face of a semicolon and parenthesis, to which you didn’t respond, because you would probably get roped into phone sex in under twenty seconds, and you had to help this extremely riveting lawyer set up his laptop for the projector.
As in, you were ready to tape his mouth shut as he blabbed on and on about his work and how important it was to society, which it was, because defense attorneys were very important, but this guy’s laptop was a fucking hot mess of icons all over his desktop. This was a personal pet peeve of yours, as you liked to be neat and organized, with everything clearly labeled with dates. You didn’t care about most people’s personal habits, but it was annoying when you were trying to assist and the owner of said laptop was not shutting up and demanding noises of affirmation that you were listening.
If it wasn’t Jungkook demanding you to swallow his cock, you honestly couldn’t give a single shit–
You finally got his PowerPoint working and had him scroll through the slides to make sure it was the correct one. He thanked you and you realized the older man was looking at you up and down, the same way Jungkook usually did, except in this case you were not even remotely interested.
Guess everyone had the right to get a good look before they die.
You were wearing a white chiffon blouse with a black silk neck scarf, with a tight knee-length black pencil skirt, sheer tights and sleek black heels. You knew how good your ass looked in this skirt and you had worn it for a specific purpose.
“We will be letting the students in five minutes early to get settled,” you stated briskly, cutting the older man from his daydreams. “You will have forty-five minutes for your presentation, and then we’ll have a fifteen-minute question session, led by my associate, Kim Namjoon here.”
As if on cue, Namjoon appeared, cheerful smile with cute dimples, handing the lawyer a mic.
“Let’s test the microphone and the backup to make sure you don’t have any hiccups,” Namjoon instructed merrily, instantly captivating the man’s attention and diverting it from you.
You mouthed a ‘thank you’ behind the man’s back and Namjoon gave you the tiniest of nods as you excused yourself. Hmph. You knew people would notice – you were wearing makeup for once and would be around students and professionals all day, after all – but to be so shameless and gawk like that was annoying. Plus, the guy probably had a wife and kids.
You made your way to the bathroom to check your appearance. Maybe your makeup was a bit off or something. You had Jimin check you over this morning. Surprisingly, he knew a lot about cosmetics and how to look good in all lighting. Must be a dance major thing.
Ah, the door to the women’s bathroom. You hiked your skirt up a bit do you could use your damn knees to walk, because they had been suffocating for the past two hours–
Long fingers suddenly gripped your upper arm and yanked you around the corner, slamming you into a muscular body and black biker jacket. You nearly stumbled in your heels, but a second hand came to practically lift you off the floor and shove you into the wall.
“Good afternoon, noona.”
A clear, silvery voice.
You couldn’t possibly guess who it was.
“Why, fancy seeing you here, Jung–”
You were abruptly cut off by his lips crashing into yours, one hand grabbing the back of your head and disturbing your perfect bun. You whimpered, feeling him shove you into the wall again, your shoulder blades hitting the painted brick. His tongue slid into your mouth, exhaling into your throat and forcing you swallow his breath. Your hands clutched your skirt, moaning as his hard body pressed yours against the wall.
Jungkook drew back, panting a little. Looking so handsome with his slightly slicked-back hair, black strands around his right eye, chiseled jawline, silver hoops glinting in the hall light. He arched a sculpted eyebrow at you, smirking. His pink lips had a little red on them from kissing you.
“Now, you know you can’t be looking so delicious and not expect me to want to eat you up,” he purred, licking your lips. Your breathing hitched at the touch, unlocking your death grip on your skirt.
“What are you talking about?” you answered evenly despite your panties literally turning into Niagara Falls with the way he was looking at you like a carnivore at an all-meat buffet. “I have to dress like this for Career Week. Everyone has to dress professionally.”
Jungkook nodded, not believing a single word coming out of your mouth. His right hand came up, ink black tattoos against tan skin, and reached around to your bun, slowly pulling the hairpins out. Your skin tingled at the sensation of your hair gradually unravelling.
“A professional that I would hire to sit on my dick,” he mused.
You raised an eyebrow at him, your hair tumbling around your shoulders. “Subtle.”
Jungkook showed you the removed hairpins, opened his jacket, and tucked them in his inner pocket.
“I wouldn’t work for you anyway,” you added haughtily.
With each passing moment, Jungkook was becoming increasingly amused and aroused. You could tell by the way he was shoving his crotch into your thigh and by how wide his smirk was getting. The slacks he was wearing did nothing to hide his erection and you had a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t care.
“Oh? Why not?”
“I don’t know if I could trust someone younger than me to do a good job.”
He was unbuttoning your chiffon blouse now, humming. “I’m good at many things.” His dark eyes flickered to yours. “I think you would know.”
Your hands grabbed his despite him already having all the visible buttons completely open. Cold air drifted onto your heaving chest and white lace bra.
“Jungkook, we’re in a public place, again,” you hissed, narrowing your eyes at him.
“I don’t recall that being a problem,” he drawled, removing his hands from yours and squeezing your ass. “I’m beginning to think you like it.”
You sucked in a breath as his strong hands kneaded you through your skirt. Your hormones would absolutely let Jungkook rip off your clothes right here and let him fuck you, but the sliver of your brain that had any sense at all reminded you that you had to find a closed space. Jungkook slapped your ass, loudly, the sound echoing across the empty hallway. You nearly moaned, but bit your tongue, glaring at him.
“I have to get back,” you snapped. “And look presentable.”
Jungkook licked his teeth. “Hm. You have an hour before you have to appear to the public eye.”
Who the heck told him that? He smirked slyly at you as he saw your reaction.
“I could drag you to the bathroom–”
“At least give me more class than the woman’s bathroom,” you interrupted.
Jungkook looked annoyed that you had cut him off and also looked like he was going to remind you later. His fingers dug into your hips sharply and you gasped, back pressed flat against the wall. He inhaled a deep breath and began again, voice dangerously low.
“As I was saying,” he continued. “I’m going to take you into this classroom that I stole the key for.”
You frowned as Jungkook hoisted you up swiftly, princess-style, shirt still wide open. Fuck, what was he so strong for? He carried you down the hallway to the classrooms. You tried to close your shirt, but he growled at you, so you rolled your eyes and pushed the sides open, letting your bra-covered tits hang out. He seemed satisfied about this.
“Why would you steal a key?” you muttered as he deftly kicked the door open.
Jungkook slid through the door sideways. “So I could fuck you, of course.”
He dropped you and you had to catch yourself on your heels before you broke an ankle and ate shit. Half the lights turned on. You could hear him locking the door as you smoothed your skirt.
You turned to face him, saying, “You shouldn’t be a thief just because you’re horny, Jungkook.”
Jungkook turned around slowly from the now locked door. You were about to say something else, but your words died in your throat as you witnessed the overwhelming lust in his dark piercing eyes.
“I would be a thief, a murderer, and evade taxes for your body,” he snarled, advancing on you.
You pulled your blouse out of your skirt so he wouldn’t rip it, backing up into the desks. “You’ll get caught with the last one,” you said quietly, already removing your blouse and letting it fall onto a spare seat. “First two are acceptable.”
Jungkook grinned devilishly, licking his pink lips.
“Come here.”
You chewed on your lower lip, staring at his beautiful eyes, finding yourself already walking to him, heels clicking loudly in the empty room, but it didn’t matter, because he was the master now and you were the willing servant. Or slave.
Take your pick.
He smirked at your obedience, placing his hands on your shoulders, stopping you. His dark orbs lingered down your body, focusing on all his favorite spots, pressing his fingertips into your skin.
“One day,” you said quietly. “We’re going to get in trouble.”
Jungkook’s powerful dark orbs shifted upwards, capturing yours. Time slowed down. You stared into his dark brown eyes, unable to look away, your heart beating in time with his words.
“You’re already in trouble.”
Voice haunting you, teasing smirk on his lips, and perfectly in command.
“From the second you let me have my hands on you.”
You gasped as his nails dug into your skin, scratching down your collarbones, leaving red marks. He snapped the straps of your bra, hard, and you whined, eyes pleading for him to take it off. His palms pressed into the lace cups, squeezing them roughly. Tongue dancing in between his lips as he felt your nipples harden, barely covered by the lace.
“You’re so dirty, noona,” he purred, lowering his palms and pinching your nipples through the thin fabric, smirking at your wanton moan. “Wearing such slutty underwear under these professional clothes.”
You whimpered as he tugged on them. “No one’s going to see them but you, Jungkook.”
He clamped your nipples between his thumbs and knuckles, dragging you to him. You sank your teeth into your lower lip, pussy throbbing as you collided with his firm chest. His breath was scorching hot against your skin, making you shiver.
“What if someone finds out? Some idiot like a perverted old man staring at your ass in this skirt?”
You snorted. “I’ll rip his head off.”
Jungkook snickered, flicking your nipples with your answer. “You wouldn’t let me do it for you?”
Your hips rolled into his, hands on his waist to keep yourself up as he played with you. “I’ll reattach it for you so you can do the same.”
He laughed, almost a little too jovially for the part he was playing, but then he was back, tipping his head close to yours, blowing soft air onto your lips. You frowned, glaring at him for the lack of kiss.
“If possible, you’re even hotter dressed like this,” Jungkook murmured, his forehead against yours. “So prim and proper, even with a cute gag tied around your neck,” he added, playing with the ends of your neck scarf. “You could be a CEO, and I could be the janitor fucking you on your penthouse-floor desk.” He was undoing your scarf now, teasing it apart, making you breathless. “Maybe fuck you against the window so everyone can see how good I make you feel, noona.”
“Give yourself a little more credit than a janitor,” you muttered, stiffening as Jungkook ran his fingertips over your throat, nails grazing your skin.
“True, I would rather be your secretary so I can follow you around and stare at your ass in this skirt,” he chuckled, lacing his fingers around your neck. Thumb under your ear, the other four fingers under your other ear. You made eye contact with him. He looked almost bored, one of his eyebrows raised, but he was watching you, predatory and attentive.
“I know what I’m doing.”
His whisper was so soft that you barely heard it, but the words were there.
His grip tightened around your throat.
You gasped, feeling the blood flow thinning, hazing your mind. Jungkook watched your expression, reaching around with the hand that was holding your scarf, unclasping your lace bra. You could feel it fall down your arms, but your thoughts were rapidly being clouded by lightheadedness and lust, Jungkook smirking at you as he lifted the silk scarf into your vision.
“J… Jungkook…” you choked out.
The mole underneath his lower lip winked at you as he grinned, brushing the silk against your hard, abused nipples, touch so light, and yet it made your whine, wanting more stimulation but unable to ask because you knew he was toying with you.
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook taunted. “Not intense enough for my naughty noona?”
He choked you harder and you couldn’t respond, eyes rolling back into your head as black spots danced in your vision, the sensation intensifying but still not enough, not enough, and you shoved your hips into his repeatedly, whimpering, hands clutching his black shirt, nails digging into his abs.
“So needy for me,” he breathed, feathery touches of silk against your nipples. “Are you only mine?”
He leaned forward, loosening his grip a little. The blood violently rushed back into your head and all you could hear Jungkook’s cruel whisper of your name, tearing a moan from your lips, a raspy yes, yes, fuck, Jungkook, I’m only yours.
He chuckled darkly.
Then he forced you to your knees, tits bouncing uncomfortably as you slid on your heels, knees hitting the tile floor. You clutched his clothed legs, panting, brain only half-functioning due to the lack of blood and the relentless teasing. You lifted your head back up to look at him, panting hard.
Jungkook cracked his neck sharply, a harsh pop. “I want to believe you, noona, but you’re dressed so fucking sexy that I can’t.” His dark eyes bore into you, tearing you up, and you were dripping onto your inner thighs. He emphasized his words with a raise of his eyebrow.
“Letting other people fantasize about this body that belongs to me isn’t acceptable.”
His hands reached down, fingers of his right hand playing with the button of his pants, tattoos dancing with his movement. He smirked as you watched him, eyes darting from his face to his hands. Shit, you were nearly drooling with anticipation. You swallowed as he teased the button free.
“You gonna show me that you remember who you belong to?”
You nodded quickly, maybe too quickly, but it was doomed now anyway because Jungkook was lowering the zipper, pushing down his pants and underwear, past his muscular thighs. It was obvious this was getting him off as much as it was getting you off, because he was rock-hard, leaking, tip already a dark red. Jungkook grabbed the back of your head and shoved his hips into your cheek, smearing his pre-cum onto your skin, all the way up to your cheekbone. He hissed, using his hand to press the head against your temple, nearly into your hair.
Fuck, he was so fucking close to your mouth, but he wasn’t letting you have it.
Damnnit.
Your tongue snaked out and softly licked his balls, eyes on his face, watching him tip his head back and moan. You licked more, creeping your head closer, pressing your lips against his hot skin. He was letting you do it, holding his cock out of the way as you wrapped your lips around his balls and sucked, pushing them around with your tongue, pleading noises in your throat, begging him for his cock as you bobbed your head up and down under his hips.
Jungkook’s dark eyes shifted down to you, triumphant grin on his lips.
“You want to swallow my cock, noona?” he teased, smacking it against your face, leaving a string of pre-cum connecting your cheek to his cock. You narrowed your eyes at him, as if to say, no fucking shit, you punk ass bitch, and he chuckled deep in his chest. He looked past your head, down your back.
“Such a nice ass.”
You smacked his leg, aware that he was doing it on purpose to piss you off. He smirked knowingly, placing his palm on your forehead and pushing you off his balls.
“Swallow it all and don’t choke,” Jungkook snarled, shoving his cock into your open mouth.
Your eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, relaxing your throat muscles as Jungkook forcefully pushed into your lips, sighing with satisfaction as he buried himself to the hilt, his strong fingers tangled in your hair.
“Fuck, so good,” he moaned, making his cock throb into the roof of your mouth. You whined, hands on his hips, waiting for him to let you move. “Your throat feels so fucking good, noona. If only they knew how good you are, how perfectly slutty you are for me.” He snickered, releasing his hand, glaring down into your eyes.
“But they’re never going to know, because you’ll never service another cock ever again.”
You whimpered, nails digging into his thighs.
He ticked his chin at you. “Go on, noona. Show me how much you love my cock.”
You began to move, pressing your tongue against the bottom as you slid up and down his length, moaning at his taste. So good. You generated more saliva and ran it all over the head, sucking hard. He inhaled sharply as you teased the sensitive underside, tongue against the opening.
“That’s it,” Jungkook breathed. “Give it to me like you mean it.”
You gripped his thighs and began to bob your head back and forth, ramming the head into the back of your throat and squeezing it before arching your neck so it ran across the roof of your mouth and then back down so it hit your throat again. Was this going to make you hoarse? Probably, but you didn’t a single shit, because Jungkook moaning for you and telling you how good you were was much more important. The pace was slow at first, but you went faster and faster, tighter, your breasts bouncing with every movement, eyes closed to savor his taste and steel your concentration of not gagging because Jungkook was so big, so thick, so perfectly rough, and your tongue could feel him throbbing inside your mouth.
“Fuck,” he growled above you, nearly feral with desire. “Fuck, I’m going to cum down that perfect throat of yours, noona.”
His thighs tensed under your hands and you knew he was close. You increased the intensity, neck straining, already aching with how fast you were going.
“Drink it all and don’t fucking waste it.”
Jungkook grabbed you by your hair and thrusted his hips into your face, moaning lustfully as he shot into your mouth, hot creamy strings into your throat. You swallowed fast to avoid choking, gulping loudly as he gave you more, more, fuck it was so delicious that you gasped, swirling your tongue around his jerking cock and lapping it all up. Whimpering, you wrapped your lips around the head and milked it dry, rubbing your lips against the skin where the head and length connected.
“You’re so fucking good,” Jungkook sighed, running his fingers through your hair, pulling it away from your face. “So messy and dirty. I love it, noona.” He pressed your mouth down his entire length and held you there.
Your name drifted out of his lips, a sweet exhale.
He kept you there. You felt some of your spit drip down your chin and hit your breasts. You flinched at the coldness, still holding onto his hips. Jungkook finally looked down at you, chest heaving, panting. He looked like he wanted to say something. You shot him a questioning look, unable to respond, mouth still full of his cock.
He released your head, untangling his fingers from your hair. You drew your mouth back, rubbing your jaw and throat a little. Jungkook had a strange expression, lips parted, brows furrowed, the muscles in his neck tensed. He seemed a bit spaced out. You tilted your head.
Something felt off.
You stood up with as much grace as you could, knees aching, heels snapping to the tile floor. He still wasn’t looking at you. You backed up, to the desks, finding a study one.
“Jungkook.”
You smacked the wood loudly with your flat palm.
He whipped his head towards you, dark eyes flashing. Perfect. You smirked, placing your hands on your pencil skirt. Sank your fingers in, gripping the fabric. Jungkook’s voracious eyes watched your movement, each hike revealing more and more of your legs. A slow smirk formed on his lips. You yanked your skirt all the way up to your waist, revealing your white lace panties and sheer pantyhose, black fabric bunched around your waist.
Jungkook reached down and pulled his pants up, raising his eyebrows as he walked over, lower lip in between his teeth as he grinned at you.
“That’s a dangerous position to be in, noona,” he purred. “You know I love fucking you on a desk.”
You bounced your ass up onto the table, closing your legs, knees together. Placed your hands on your lap, pushing your tits together. Jungkook licked his lips, the predatory glint back in his eye. You kept your tone stern, with a hint if disapproval.
“Really? Because for a second there, I was beginning to think you lost your nerve.”
The menace in his eyes made your shiver with anticipation. You could tell Jungkook liked it too, your word selection, your tone, your defiance. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, and it fell to the floor with an oppressive thump. You sucked in a tight breath. The shirt was short sleeved, exposing his tattooed right forearm and his equally beautiful tanned left one. Some of his long black hair was falling down, brushing against his right cheekbone.
His eyes were so dark that you felt like they were devouring you.
Jungkook placed his large hands on your knees and vehemently shoved them apart, spreading your legs wide. He gave you a cold, expressionless stare as he placed a hand on your stomach, putting you onto your elbows, hips tipped up towards him. You were embarrassingly wet, juices soaked into your inner thighs, lace panties already molded to your soaked folds, the sheer pantyhose doing nothing to protect you from him and his hungry eyes. His voice was icy, making your pussy throb with need.
“Noona, if you close your legs, I’m going to punish you,” Jungkook warned.
Part of you wanted to know what the punishment was, but the other part of you really wanted to orgasm, so kept your snide remark to yourself and simply nodded.
Jungkook removed his hands from your knees and placed them on your shuddering breasts. Fuck. You hadn’t realized you were so horny until Jungkook touched you. A pained whimper strained in your throat.
The side of his lips curved upwards.
“Does my dirty, slutty noona want to be fucked?” His nails sank down, digging into your skin. “Do you want to be used by me, your tight little pussy stretched out and pleading for more?” Jungkook leaned forward, breathing into your face, growling whisper against your lips. He pinched your nipples and you moaned, wanting to kiss him, but knowing he wasn’t going to let you. He chuckled darkly, seeing your desperation.
“Do you want to be a slave for Jungkookie’s cock, noona?”
Fuuuuuuuck.
Your heart was beating so fast that your breathing was coming out in little gasps as he twisted your nipples harshly, rubbing the tips with his thumb. Your legs shook, threatening to close because the lack of friction was killing you.
“Y-yes, Jungkook, fuck yes.”
He yanked on your nipples and slapped them, making you hiss with pain, flinching as the sting shot up your chest. Jungkook reached into his back pocket and produced the silk neck scarf.
“Keep quiet for me noona or everyone will know how much of a slut you are for me.”
And then he shoved your own scarf into your parted lips, gagging you. Not a second too soon, because, without warning, Jungkook immediately spanked your barely clothed clit. You yelped around the silk, thighs quivering. He gripped one of your thighs, digging his nails into it, tearing the sheer pantyhose a little.
“Don’t move and take it,” he snarled.
Your back arched as Jungkook began to slap your pussy, hard, unforgiving, loud, and making you wetter and wetter, so much so his hand was slipping a little with each smack. You screamed around the scarf, hips trembling as they rose to meet each hit, flaring pain in between your thighs but so, so good. He clenched his jaw, dark eyes on your quickly reddening pussy lips that were sucking your panties deeper and deeper into your slit.
“Fuck,” he growled. “Fuck, you’re so hot and so fucking perfect for me.”
He removed his hand from your thigh and ripped the center seam of your pantyhose apart.
You started, eyes widening as you watched him tear through it, yelling at him through the scarf. You still needed to wear those! The small tears were one thing, but a full-on giant rip at the crotch was not going to be comfortable to wear for the rest of the day.
Jungkook smirked, raising a hand to his ear. “What’s that? Can’t hear you.”
You glared at him and was about to remove the scarf from your mouth to scold him, but his smirk turned into a roguish grin.
“Hm? Slap you harder and abuse your clit?”
You paled.
“My pleasure.”
You threw you head back as Jungkook mercilessly spanked your now only lace-covered clit, impossibly fast, towering over you and hooking his arm under your back, dragging you to him, arching your spine more, more, so your tits were straight up, bouncing right in his face as he changed from smacking your clit to rubbing it just as fast, rougher, so intense you were hoarsely wailing into the gag.
All of a sudden, your orgasm violently rammed into you, pleasure racking your entire body, amplified by stinging pain. Your pussy clenched around nothing, wetly squelching as Jungkook breathed hotly down on your nipples, still rubbing you through your orgasm, not letting up. You shook your head furiously, trying to tell him it was too much, that you were too sensitive, but you didn’t lift your hands to stop him, only spreading your fingers against the table, palms flat as your hips raised to his fingers.
You felt his hair brush against your nipples as he licked your cleavage, smirking up at your face.
“One more and then I’ll fuck you the way I want to, noona.”
Your legs were losing feeling from how hard you were locking them in place as you felt Jungkook pry your lace panties out of your pussy, shoving them to one side. Oh shit. You moaned as you felt him shove two fingers into you, eyes squeezing shut as he added a third, scissoring them as he smiled cruelly at you, eagerly watching your reaction.
“Such a greedy pussy, sucking in my fingers like this,” Jungkook drawled, your walls clenching around them, feeling every callus and every joint, all the way to his knuckles. “All mine, my beautiful, slutty noona.”
You would have asked Jungkook what the time was if your brain could still function, but your brain timed itself out, because Jungkook was thrusting his fingers into you now, filling you up, and feeding your need and desperation, assaulting your pussy with pleasure. The pain of your stinging, puffy lips rubbing against his hand added to the ecstasy, heightening it, your moaning now unintelligible behind the silk scarf that was saturated with your saliva. The sound was obscene, sloppy smacking sounds of your drenched hole getting pounded into the desk.
You threw your head back and choked out his name around the makeshift gag, throbbing pussy clamping down on his fingers. Thick, viscous liquid gushed out onto his palm, the back of his hand, dripping down to his wrist. It was so intense that your entire body jerked up into Jungkook’s face, hitting him with your tits.
If Jungkook was mad about it, he didn’t show it. He wrenched his slick fingers out and you whined, watching him with glazed eyes as licked them off, ferally growling at your taste. He released your back from his arm and you slid down, laying against the desk, panting.
“You taste extra delicious today, noona,” he chuckled. “Candy always tastes better in cute packaging.”
You barely had time to register that Jungkook had just compared you to a fucking convenience store snack before he yanked down his pants again, whipping out a foil packet and ripping it open. Less than a second and the condom was on, and then Jungkook shoved his cock into you, a startled gasp dying in your very over-used throat.
Jungkook moaned your name above you, softly and lustfully, pulling your hips closer to him so he was all the way inside you. You clenched around his length and he sighed, small smirk on his pink lips, eyelids fluttering.
“You’re going to kill me one day with how perfectly tight you are for me,” he mumbled.
Your eyes found his and he grinned, looking down at you through his lashes, his hair obscuring half his face.
Fuck, you could stare at him all day.
Jungkook placed your legs around his waist, finally letting them rest from the forced spreading. He roughly jerked his hips into yours and you whimpered, nails clawing into the desk. His fingers dug into your hips and he set his jaw, beginning a hard, fast pace, slapping your hips together, fucking you into the desk. It scraped noisily into the floor, but neither of you cared, you abused pussy lips rubbing against his crotch every time his hips met yours, carried to new heights of pain and pleasure, loving every second, every moment of Jungkook using you to chase his own orgasm, his cock swelling and dragging against your tight walls. So much. So full.
You could never be satisfied with another cock.
“Fuck.”
Jungkook hissed, grip on your hips tightening, bruising you with his fingertips.
“Fuck, noona, I love you.”
Your heart stopped.
And then your orgasm crashed down, overtaking you completely, your head smacking the desk and seeing stars, clenching around Jungkook’s cock and pulsating violently around his length, soaking his thighs with your juices, scent so strong you were sure whatever class that was going to use this lecture hall next was going to smell your cum splattering to the floor.
Jungkook gritted his teeth and rammed his hips into you, dragging you down to meet every thrust, intensifying your orgasm, ripping your pantyhose even more. Once, twice, three times, and he groaned, shuddering as he spilled into the condom, cock shivering inside you as he came. You could feel how much it was, pressing against your walls.
His long hair was all over his face, black strands clinging to his tan skin, sweat dripping off his chin, pink lips quivering, dark eyes roaming over your fucked-out form. Panting hard, matching your heavy, grating breaths behind your now saliva-drenched neck scarf. After a long moment, Jungkook reached down and held onto the condom, slowly pulling out of you.
Holy fuck.
Holy fuck.
You reached up with a shaking hand, pulling the silk out of your mouth. It came out in a long strip of fabric, smacking against your cheek as your removed it from your lips.
Holy.
Fuck.
You sat up, your body screaming at you, seeing Jungkook breathing hard, tying up the condom.
��Did you just tell me you love me?”
Jungkook’s ears turned bright red. He chewed on his lip, biting it hard before facing you. Dark brown eyes suddenly vulnerable, scared. It was the most uncharacteristic expression you had ever witnessed on Jeon Jungkook’s chiseled, handsome face.
“Uh… yeah.”
There was a moment where you realized both you two were mostly naked in a random classroom, clothes thrown everywhere, having made a mess once again.
“Sorry,” Jungkook added quickly. “It slipped out.”
You blinked at him. “Why are you apologizing?”
He rubbed his nose, looking away.
“Well… aren’t you just fucking me because you like to be dominated?”
You frowned. “No, I’m fucking you because I’m in love with you.”
You saw Jungkook freeze. He turned his head robotically, eyes wide and doe-like. “R-really?”
You looked down to notice that your heels were on the tile floor. When had you lost those? You grumbled, trying to straighten out your panties and the remains of your pantyhose. It was doomed. You shrugged, dangling your legs over the edge of the desk as you looked back at Jungkook and his surprised expression. You raised an eyebrow.
“Are you really that much of an idiot?” you muttered, your own cheeks burning, letting out a puff of annoyed air. “Yes, I love you. Why else would I tolerate you staring at me like I’m some kind of zoo animal? Why else would I risk getting in trouble by running around like this? Why else would I let you fuck me at school, in the middle of the damn day, again?”
Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm… because I’m hot?”
You rubbed your forehead and sighed exasperatedly, standing up, instantly wincing. Jungkook took a step forward to catch you, but he almost tripped on his pants down his ankles. You caught yourself against the desk and raised a hand, shaking your head.
“Pack your damn dick,” you muttered. You yanked your tights down your legs, removing them and balling them up. They were useless now anyway. You found your bra and put it back on as you eyed your chiffon blouse. Good thing it wasn’t ripped. It only took you a moment to slip it back on, rebuttoning it and tucking it into your skirt. You pulled your pencil skirt back down, straightening it, thighs immediately sticking together from your own fluids.
Yup, still no more comfortable than yanking your pants back on after a session with Jungkook.
You noticed him putting his leather jacket back on and picking up the condom wrapper. He took the silk scarf from the table and shoved it in his back pocket. You went back to him to gather your shoes, but he knelt down, holding out your black heels as if you were Cinderella.
“I can just–”
“Step.”
His tone was sharp and you immediately obeyed, raising your foot and stepping into your shoe. First one, then the other. Jungkook stood back up, exhaling a little. You looked up at him. His chocolate eyes flitted about tensely. He opened his mouth to speak.
“Do you… uh…”
You cut him off. “Jungkook, if you cheat on me, I will personally castrate you with a spoon.”
He cringed. “Ouch.”
You took the used condom and the wrapper bits from him, shoving them into your balled-up pantyhose. You marched towards the door confidently, pain shooting throughout your body with every step. Jungkook called after you.
“Your hairpins.”
You turned your head back a little.
“You can drop them off at my apartment later.”
And then you unlocked the door and stepped out of the classroom.
Park Jimin waved at you, grinning. Plump lips curved into a mischievous smile, wearing a denim jacket and jeans. You almost jumped seeing him standing there. What the fuck is with this guy’s timing? He eyed your hand holding your ruined pantyhose and you put it behind your back, glaring at him.
“I told Namjoon you had a lady emergency.” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows at you before holding up your phone and black purse, the belongings you had left in the back room. “You took longer than you should have.”
You felt your ears burn. “Shit. I need to get back.”
“To Jungkook, yeah,” Jimin chimed teasingly, making you glower at him.
Of course. Jungkook had turned Jimin into his scout for your escapades. Fantastic. You suddenly felt a strong presence behind you. The door had opened and Jungkook’s arm snaked around your waist, yanking you possessively to his side. He placed his chin on top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair.
“You wanna go on a date, noona?” Jungkook purred, his free hand playing with the ends of your disheveled hair.
You pursed your lips. “I have to get back and help Namjoon.”
Jimin waved a hand. “He’ll be fine for one day. Plus, you’re being kidnapped.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but Jungkook slapped his hand over your lips, marching you in the opposite direction of Career Week, Jimin skipping behind you two, cheerfully humming.
-
part iv
--
masterpost
#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#bts smut#jungkook x you#jeon jungkook x you#jungkook fanfic
775 notes
·
View notes
Text
Payback ~Hiccup x Reader smut for anon~
So can I request reader teasing hiccup a lot and in the end a lot of smut with Dom! hiccup and dirty talk and the next day they're in bed starting round 2 👀👀 but the others walk on them and hiccup gets very protective??
Taglist: @belleknows
Your name: submit What is this?
You were definitely in for it now. The look on Hiccup’s face told you so. You’d been teasing him all day and he's about to make you pay for it.
The reason for your teasing started when you woke up in bed alone...again. You often had to beg Hiccup to stay in bed with you in the mornings but he seemed to always want to get up and go to the forge or get right to training. You, on the other hand, preferred to sleep in for a few extra hours and be cuddled until you were rested enough to start the day. But once again, you awoke to Hiccup’s empty side of the bed. It was cold, indicating that he had left even before the sun was up. You groaned and sat up, rubbing your eyes and figuring out how you were gonna get back at Hiccup. Once you were freshened up and dressed, you headed towards the dome where you assumed Hiccup would be training with the others. When you arrived, you found him surprisingly alone with Toothless. He looked up when he heard you coming and gave you a warm smile. “Morning milady.” He greeted you. Instead of responding, you strode towards him quickly and threw yourself into his arms. Hiccup let out a surprised moan as your lips met his. His arms wrapped around you as your hands caressed his face. His eyes fluttered closed and you tangled your fingers in his hair, lightly tugging just how he likes it. As soon as you felt Hiccup’s hands start to slide lower on your body, you pulled back, shoved his hands away from you, raised one eyebrow at him slyly, and turned to walk away from him. “W-wha-?” He stuttered. You glimpsed his confused expression before you walked briskly back out of the training area.
You didn’t expect Hiccup to follow you and he didn’t. He found you a few hours later in the mead hall talking with Fishlegs. Fishlegs was talking about his work perfecting Gronkle iron for some new weapons. You had actually been listening until you saw Hiccup stroll in. You grinned as an idea came to you. You quickly sat up and tucked your legs under you so your ass stuck out more. You waited until Hiccup looked your way and then leaned forward sticking your chest out. Fishlegs’ eyes immediately glanced down at your newly exposed cleavage but, being a shy gentleman, he cleared his throat and looked away just as fast. Hiccup noticed it though and his face turned pink when you looked up and winked. Everything was working out nicely.
This time, you knew Hiccup was following you. He kept a good distance, not wanting to look suspicious. But the way you left the mead hall, the way you deliberately swished your hips so the skirt you were wearing flipped up, he had to follow behind you. You were teasing him and he couldn’t help but fall into every single trap you set for him. You led him through the trees towards your secret spot. He knew this path. The two of you had snuck off here plenty of times. He could find this place blindfolded if he had to. But this time he just followed your graceful movements as you led him deeper and deeper into the forest. He watched as you entered the clearing. He looked behind him to make sure he hadn’t been followed while he was preoccupied with watching you. When he turned back, he gasped. You had completely stripped down and were wading slowly into the shallow water of the clearing. Hiccup felt himself get hot and he swallowed hard, tugging at the collar of his shirt. His pants grew tighter the longer he stared at you. The two of you had bathed in that water together many times and he thought back to the first time you let him take you right there in that glen.
He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard you call his name. “It’s rude to stare at a lady while she’s bathing, Hiccup.” You purred. You turned to him, water dripping down your full chest. Hiccup felt his mouth water just looking at you. “You mind if I join you?” He asked, breathlessly. You grinned and beckoned him with your finger. Hiccup stripped down and waded into the water with you. When he got close, you pulled him into another kiss. He hummed against your mouth and began to kiss down your neck. “Hiccup..” You sighed. Hiccup hummed against you again and you felt him get harder as his hips pressed to yours. “I think you’re teasing me milady, and I don’t know why.” Hiccup murmured, his face still in your neck. You pulled back and looked at him. “You haven’t figured it out yet?” You asked, innocently. Hiccup’s confusion showed on his face. “Well, my love, I think...” You leaned close like you were about to kiss him. “I think I should leave you here to figure it out.” You finished, grinning. You pushed away from Hiccup and leapt from the water. You snatched up your clothes and his and charged back through the trees. You giggled as he yelled after you. You chucked his clothes behind you, scattering them, and pulled your own on as you continued to run. You had a good head start on Hiccup and you were counting on his confusion and arousal to slow him down.
You made it back to the house and slammed the door shut behind you. You were up the stairs and trying to find a place to hide when you heard the door burst open. Hiccup was faster than you had expected. You let out a squeak of surprise when you heard him shout your name. You didn’t have time to hide before he was up the stairs and pulling you into his arms. “You’ve teased me enough today. What’s the deal??” He growled, his lips attacking your neck. You gasped as you felt his teeth graze your skin. “You keep...leaving me in bed...alone!” You sighed. Hiccup’s grip tightened on your hips and he let out a frustrated growl. “That’s why you’ve been teasing me all day?!” He walked you back until your legs hit the bed, causing you to fall backwards onto it. Hiccup stood up straight and began pulling off his clothes, keeping his eyes on you. “This was payback, Hiccup. You always make me wake up alone.” You answered quietly. Once he was fully naked, Hiccup grabbed your legs and yanked your bottoms down. “Payback, huh?” Hiccup pushed your knees apart and sank down between them. “We’ll see about that.” He muttered.
Hiccup’s mouth attached to your clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue. Your back arched and your hands flew to his hair, tugging on his soft braids. “Hiccup....” you breathlessly whispered. His name was replaced with moans as his lips devoured you hungrily. His hands reached up and began to twist your nipples. You cried out as bucked your hips against his face, urging him to keep going. “Gods...Hiccup! That feels so good!” You moaned loudly. Hiccup grunted against you as you tugged his hair harder. The only sounds were your moans and the wetness of his mouth on you.
Suddenly Hiccup pulled back and stood up. You didn’t have a chance to protest before he was grabbing your arms and yanking you to your feet. “Turn around and bend over.” Hiccup grunted, his eyes staring into yours, daring you to refuse him. You were so surprised by his attitude that you didn’t move. Frustrated by you not listening to him, Hiccup spun you around and pushed on your back so you were now bent over the bed. You jumped as you felt him land a sharp smack on your ass. His hand twisted in your hair and yanked your head up before landing another smack to your ass. “I thought I told you-” *smack* “-to turn around and bend over.” He growled. He leaned down close to your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck. “You really wanna disobey your chief, Y/N?” He questioned. You whimpered and shook your head. “N-no Hiccup..” You cried out as he spanked you again. “That’s not how you address the chief, Y/N. Do it properly this time.” He demanded. “I-I’m sorry, my chief. I didn’t mean to.” You whimpered, your ass stinging deliciously. “That’s better.”
Hiccup let go of your hair just long enough to line his hard cock up with your dripping pussy. You moaned softly as he rubbed the head up and down, nudging your clit. Hiccup gave you no warning before shoving into you. The two of you moaned loudly together and Hiccup immediately fell into a rhythm. The bed creaked beneath you as Hiccup pounded into you. His hands gripped your ass and he pulled you back into him as he thrust forward, ensuring he was as deep in you as possible. You balled the sheets in your fists, the corner of your pillow clenched between your teeth. You felt so full and Hiccup was pounding you so hard you were sure there would be bruises on your thighs in the morning. You could hear him moaning your name, grunting out how tight and wet you were around him. You couldn’t even focus on anything except how good Hiccup felt inside you. “H-Hiccup....please..d-don’t stop!” You begged. Hiccup groaned when he heard you whimper out his name like that. “Does it feel good, Y/N? You like how your chief is just taking you like a whore?” His words made you clench around him again and you nodded quickly, nearly sobbing with pleasure. “Yes!! Oh yes, my chief!! I love it when you take me like this! Please don’t stop!”
Hiccup smacked your ass a few more times before tightening his grip on it. “You’re close, princess. I can feel you squeezing me.” Hiccup moaned. He somehow managed to speed up and fuck you even faster than before. You screamed as your orgasm coursed through you. Hiccup continued to fuck you after you had collapsed among the blankets. All you could do is hold on as he used you to bring about his own release.
His thrust became more sloppy and slower as he came inside you. He collapsed against your back, holding you to him. The two of you were panting heavily and your eyes were too heavy to stay open anymore.
~The next morning~
You awoke the next morning and were surprised to see Hiccup next to you. “Good morning, milady.” He said, propping himself up on one elbow. “You stayed in bed this time.” You joked. Hiccup shrugged. “I figured I should spend more time in bed with you. I don’t want you to feel like I’m neglecting you.” He admitted. You smiled at him and pulled him into a kiss. It quickly heated up as his hands quickly roamed over your body. You grinned and gently nibbled on Hiccup’s bottom lip. “Take me again, my chief.” You murmured. You felt Hiccup harden at your words. “As you wish, milady.”
You and Hiccup were completely wrapped in each other’s arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands tangled in your hair as he rolled his hips against yours. The house was filled with the sounds of your love-making. But somehow that wasn’t enough to deter your unwelcome guests.
“HEY GUYS!!” You both looked up to see the rest of the Dragon Riders piling into your bedroom. You screamed and yanked the blanket up to try and cover you both as much as possible. “What the fuck are you doing here?!” Hiccup shouted. Snotlout and the twins raised their hands in surrender as Fishlegs blushed and avoided eye contact with the two of you. “We were wondering what was taking so long.” Ruffnut admitted. Hiccup smacked his forehead and groaned. “Get the fuck out! We’re clearly busy! And keep your eyes to yourself before I poke them out for looking.” He growled. Seeing Hiccup aggressive and very protective like this turned you on even more and you couldn’t wait for the others to leave so he could finish ravishing you. The other Riders were apparently too shocked to move. “GET OUT!!” Hiccup shouted, throwing the hardest object he could reach across the room to scare them. The Riders quickly got the message and scurried from the house. Hiccup rolled his eyes, sighing. “Sorry about that. Now where were we?” He asked, turning back to you. You giggled and pulled him back down into a kiss, letting him make love to you all morning long.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Pregnancy Series - Part 4.2
Going through the pregnancy
⚠️ Sensitive content -> mention of: pain, miscarriage scare, angst insecurities -> every scenario ends with a happy end! ⚠️
Pregnancy Series: Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4.1
Hello! A lot of you seemed to wait for the next scenario so I decided to post it earlier than usually ( most of the time it’s almost midnight for me, sleep pattern, are you planning to be normal again?) Whatever! I hope you like this one, please keep telling me your opinion!
Jumin
The times where your husband worked from home were becoming more and more frequent.
Ever since he found out about your pregnancy and noticed that you couldn’t come to work with him anymore, he made sure to stay more at home.
Even Jaehee got her own little place in his big office because now that you, his second secretary, couldn’t help him anymore, she had to take more work again.
,,I am so sorry, Jaehee,’’ you whined when you stood in the frame, some coffee on a counter with some cookies.
,,Mc! We’re friends! Please don’t worry! I’m glad that I can help you. Besides, Mr. Han is taking a lot of my work too,’’ she smiled as she approached you to help you carry the stuff you bought them.
Jumin looked up and smiled.
He loved to see you with the baby bump. Soon he wanted to have his boy in his arms, feel the baby and his warmth, hear his cries, but he also wished that you could stay like this.
Although, the only thing he didn’t really like about the pregnancy were the little pains you had.
You often laid in bed the whole day because your back hurt or because you felt sick.
Ever since your baby began to move, you had the feeling that your baby kicked all your organs away.
But still, he loved this time so much.
But today was a day where you just stayed in bed, unable to move because you felt so fatigued.
Maybe you also didn’t dare to move because you felt an odd pain in your abdomen.
You softly shook your belly, noticing that your baby didn’t move at all, even though this was the time where he was the most active.
Jumin and Jaehee were in the room next to you, so you decided to finally tell him.
,,Jumin…?’’ you softly called him, trying to get up on your own.
Suddenly a sharp pain hit you, making you bow over, holding your belly.
,,Ugh, J-JUMIN!’’ you now screamed.
You could hear something fall when he rushed into the room, the sight of you making his heart stop.
,,My love?! What’s wrong, Mc?!’’ he asked you, placing his hand on your belly.
,,It… it hurts!’’ you groaned and began to sob.
Jumin looked down, seeing that the bedsheets were tainted red.
However, he had the feeling that you still didn’t notice which was good, as to not scare you even more.
,,Call the doctor, Assistant Kang!’’ he hissed, seeing that she stood next to the bed.
The doctor came a few seconds afterwards. Jumin made sure that there was always someone in the penthouse for cases like this.
,,It was a miscarriage scare. We could save the baby and your wife is well too. However, we need to put her on bed rest,’’ he whispered, making Jumin look at your bed.
,,Thank you. I will take care of her,’’ he whispered and laid next to you. Before you were put back in bed, he asked someone to change the bedsheets. He was more than happy that everything seemed to have gone well.
Zen
,,I hope we can see the gender today,’’ Zen said as he walked hand in hand with you towards the doctor where the both of you had your appointment.
You were already 24 weeks pregnant, but whenever the doctor wanted to tell you the gender of your baby, it was never visible.
,,Maybe my baby is just shy?’’ you chuckled as you rubbed your belly.
,,It’s mine too!’’ Zen whined and held your hand tighter, looking at every step, scared that you could trip.
You laughed as you heard his words. He was already so overprotective.
Both of you entered the room and told the lady at the reception that you had an appointment.
You and Zen had to wait for a few minutes until a nurse approached you and asked you guys to follow her.
You changed your clothes into a hospital gown so the doctor could see better and then sat on the chair.
,,Hello, Mrs. Ryu, how are we feeling today?’’ she asked you, greeting Zen too.
,,I’m nervous. I hope we can see the gender today,’’ you said and pulled the end of your gown.
The doctor nodded as she warned you. ,,It will be a bit cold, don’t startle,’’ she said with a soft voice.
You nodded as the cold gel met your belly.
She rubbed it with the gadget around your belly and stopped at some point, looking closely at the screen.
,,Do you want to know the gender?’’ she asked you.
Both you and Zen nodded, excited to hear what it would be.
,,Your baby girl is here, see?’’ she asked you, showing you the picture.
As soon as she said baby girl, you began to sob as you held Zen’s hand closer to your chest.
,,It’s a girl!’’ you sobbed.
Zen nodded. ,,Oh my God! I won’t let her have a boyfriend until I die! She will make everyone go crazy with her beauty!’’ he whined and kissed your head.
,,Thank you,’’ he kept sobbing while you laughed.
,,We will spend more money on pads,’’ you laughed.
,,And chocolate,’’ he laughed too, rubbing your arm.
,,I will print a picture. Everything looks good,’’ the doctor said with a bright smile.
As soon as you agreed on an appointment, you both left to post a picture on his Instagram.
Zen put on the caption, ,,Wife went from being a Princess to a Queen as we are accepting a new princess.’’
Immediately after the picture was posted, Jaehee called you to congratulate you. She was also sobbing into the phone.
The day ended with you and Zen buying a lot of cute, pink, glitter toys and decorations.
,,I can’t wait to style her hair… and to see how her first love will turn out!’’ you giggled.
,,No first love!’’ he whined and observed you as you tried to decide between a few more baby clothes.
Yoosung
Excited to learn your baby's gender, you and Yoosung entered the room after a nurse called you, his hand in yours as you laid down on the bed, pulling up your shirt as you knew what the doctor would soon do with you.
A young woman entered the room a few seconds later, making the nurse bow and leave.
,,Hello, my name is Dr. Lee and I will tend to you today. I will first take an ultrasound and check your baby’s heartbeat and then I will tell you the gender. Is there a person you would like me to tell you the gender?’’ she asked you, since nowadays, it was normal that couples planned gender reveal parties.
But you and Yoosung decided to enjoy the news of the gender on your own, so there was no need to tell anybody.
,,Are you perhaps new, sorry for asking,’’ you smiled.
The doctor nodded. ,,Freshly graduated, I am still unsure with the old things they use here. In the other hospital, we were totally modern,’’ she laughed as she watched the screen.
You pressed your lips together. There wasn’t much she could do wrong, right?
Well, at least you thought.
She soon began her checkup while Yoosung was still holding your hand as he too got nervous.
The doctor soon also began to look worried, rolling the stick she had in her hand from one side of your belly to the other side without saying a word.
,,Is there something wrong?’’ you asked her. Honestly, you didn’t want to know the answer. Deep in your heart, you just didn’t want to know what she had to say.
But your fear ended up coming to life. ,,I… can’t find the heartbeat,’’ she whispered.
You immediately began to cry. Hot tears began to flow out of your eyes as you began to uncontrollably sob. ,,But, I am sure it’s because I’m not used to the technology here. Let me call your doctor. Please don’t worry!’’ she whined, feeling guilty for your emotional outbreak.
However, you didn’t stop.
By now Yoosung too began to cry as he held your hand, his other hand on your belly, sticky with the gel as he begged and prayed in his head for his baby's well being.
Your doctor quickly hurried inside. ,,Mrs Kim,’’ she gasped as she saw you in tears.
,,Please don’t worry. I will check,’’ she said to try to calm you down as she pushed some buttons and placed the stick on your belly again.
,,Here,’’ she whispered. Soon, the room was shortly filled with familiar sounds.
You stopped crying as someone reassured you that nothing was wrong. Your tears stopped flowing.
,,Your baby girl is alright,’’ your doctor whispered, making you blink a few times.
,,Baby girl?’’ Yoosung asked again to make sure.
,,I’m sorry if my young doctor worried you. She didn’t press the button for the sound. Please forgive her, I will teach her better, I’m sure this is a mistake she will never ever do again. I’m sorry you guys had to be the people she had her first experience with,’’ your doctor said.
,,It’s okay,’’ you said. A hiccup still left your mouth as your voice was cracking.
,,We all were young and trainees. It can happen,’’ you nodded.
It was a shock, but you felt much better and Yoosung was with you, now that he knew that you were expecting a girl...
Jaehee
You were in your 30th week.
Currently you were laying on the couch, a paper plate on your belly as you licked every single finger of your right hand after eating a few chips you were craving for.
The plate was still on your big belly as it suddenly twitched, causing the chips to lose balance and fall on the floor.
You groaned as you noticed that you just made a mess in your living room.
And of course Jaehee noticed the fall, coming immediately into the room to check on you.
,,What happened?’’ she asked you with her big, almost scared eyes.
,,Nothing,’’ you laughed and waved with your hand, calling her to your side.
She approached you, a bit scared as she finally sat down next to you, ignoring the chips on the floor for now.
You took her hand and put it on your belly. She loved to feel the movements of your boy, but this time there was no little hand or foot.
Instead, your big round belly began to twitch.
Jaehee quickly withdrew her hand and held the hand which was laying on your belly with the other one.
,,What was that?’’ she asked you and placed her hand on the spot again, feeling the twitch again.
,,Our boy hiccuped,’’ you chuckled and placed your hand next to hers on your belly, feeling the movements in your belly.
Jaehee’s eyes were showing pure love as her eyes rested on your belly. Your son was growing inside of you and this hiccup she felt as a twitch, was already a sign of a living creature.
,,I can’t wait to meet him,’’ she whispered.
,,Me neither… And I can’t wait to have my body back,’’ you laughed and tried to get up. Of course Jaehee quickly took her hand away from your belly and tried to help you up, her hand on your back as she lightly pushed you up.
,,Thank you,’’ you smiled and stepped on a chip, making a cracking sound.
,,I will clean it up,’’ Jaehee told you with a smile.
,,Oh, thank you, cause I think I’m on the verge of peeing myself!’’ you responded and quickly approached the toilet.
Jaehee looked at your back. Her smile never disappeared as she cleaned up the mess your son made.
Saeyoung
You were entering your 36th week when something you were already prepared for happened - labor.
You were cooking when you had the feeling that you were kind of kicked.
You stopped everything and placed your hand on your belly, feeling the pain again, this time sharper and more painful. You gasped for air and slowly tried to exhale the pain.
,,S-Saeyoung?’’ you called him, your voice filled with pain and fear. You weren’t sure what was happening but you just needed Saeyoung, your support.
,,Mh? Wanna make me taste the vegetables?’’ he asked you, busy chatting with someone in the chatroom without looking up.
,,Mh-mh,’’ you said, shaking your head.
Saeyoung looked up. He didn’t understand what you were telling him. ,,I-I’m in pain, Saeyoung,’’ you groaned.
The pain came back, even worse than before, making you fall into your knees. Luckily, Saeyoung caught you, supporting you below your arms as he called loudly for Saeran, who loudly approached you guys, gasping for air.
It was a moment of fear and adrenaline as the two boys somehow dragged you to your room, your painful cries in their ears as you finally laid back,
Saeyoung couldn’t think straight and Saeran decided to prepare everything, calling a doctor and turning off the stove to not burn the food and set the house on fire.
The doctor quickly arrived. He wasn’t surprised by the symptomes you were having.
,,Twins usually come earlier which is totally normal, but we will try to hold off the labor.
She has to be on bed rest. She isn’t allowed to get up, move around, or do anything else. She’s doing okay now, but make sure to go to the hospital as soon as she feels pain again,’’ he said.
Saeyoung nodded as he stared at the closed door of your room.
,,Okay, at least we can make them stay inside a bit longer,’’ you whispered as you stroked your belly.
Saeyoung stayed silent as he observed you. It was time for him to pack your bag just in case you had to go to the hospital.
But before that, his first step was to feed you since your tummy was growling.
,,I’m sorry, I have to eat for three!’’ you called back as he walked off, laughing.
,,Yes yes!’’ he kept on laughing, turning on the stove again.
Saeran
After you felt sick, you were much better which was something Saeran enjoyed a lot.
He loved to feel every movement of his twins and to see your belly twitch as someone had to hiccup. He loved to see the little bump on your big belly as one of the twins moved.
Today, you and Saeran had an appointment with your doctor. By now it was checked daily since you were 38 weeks pregnant and twins were known to come early, but Saeran was happy that you already passed the 36th week.
He was helping you to put on your dress and helping you put on your shoes as he grabbed your purse and held out his hand to walk with you to the place you were awaited.
,,I can’t wait to hear their heartbeat again,’’ Saeran said, smiling.
The last time, he asked to save the sound on his phone, but it was always different to hear the sound of his twins in person rather than on his phone.
You chuckled and patted his hand as he walked slower.
,,Didn’t you just hear it yesterday?’’ you asked him and already knew that he would be the most loving father.
,,You know,’’ he began, ,,I can never get enough of it,’’ he confessed, making you emotional.
You wondered how it would be as soon as the babies would be in your arms instead of growing in your belly.
You were happy to have your own body back and that you were soon able to do more things on your own, but you also knew that you would probably miss the movements, the feeling, patting, and stroking your belly, knowing that there was someone you were keeping safe in there.
But on the other hand, you could finally meet those two wonderful human beings you already loved even though you still didn’t know them.
,,I can’t wait to meet them,’’ Saeran said, almost reading your thoughts and opening the door for you.
,,I now know for sure that we are soulmates! You just said what I was thinking!’’ you laughed as you confessed at the same time, opening the next door, already inhaling the smell of the disinfectants.
,,You just noticed now?’’ he asked you, joking and looking at the wall filled with pictures of new born babies, imagining how cute his own would look as soon as they were born.
Jihyun
If there was something Lucy was the best at, it was coaxing the whole RFA into things like asking Zen to give her and Jaehee, as well as yourself, some DVDs of his, Yoosung to take her to a convention, Saeyoung to hack into a toy store and send her toys.
The one she had the most around her finger was her godfather, Jumin Han.
After two weeks of coaxing, begging, and whining he finally did what she asked for - building an indoor swimming pool.
Well, now that he built it, you guys had to visit him and use it, forcing you to go along.
And of course you also had to go into the pool because the little girl wanted to splash into the water with her mom.
But you just didn’t feel like it. To be honest, you wanted to hide the stretch marks on your body that were all around your belly.
The amount of rather red marks increased and that was making you feel… ugly.
You wanted to have your body back and you wanted this to stop.
Not even the baby oil you were using could help you.
To hide your feelings, you decided to never show them to Jihyun, scared that he would find you disgusting.
Today too, you tried to hide the hate, sadness, and bad feelings you felt towards those stretch marks.
But you were too late to put on a bathing suit and Jihyun saw how you sniffled in front of the mirror.
,,Mc?“ he called you, making you wake up from your trance and look at him, feeling caught.
,,Wow, now you will leave us!“ you groaned, waving with your hands nervously and angrily.
,,Why should I?“ he asked you, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling you between his legs.
You were already tearing up as you mumbled, ,,Ugly!“
,,What?“ he asked you again, coming closer to you.
,,I’m ugly!“ you repeated. ,,Look at my stretch marks!“ You pointed at your body.
Jihyun smiled, feeling bad as he rubbed your swollen belly.
,,Why do you think you’re ugly? You’re the most wonderful woman I’ve ever seen!“
,,These,“ you sobbed.
Jihyun knew that you felt unsure about your stretch marks for a while and now you broke down.
,,They are a symbol of the pregnancy we fought so hard for and so long for. Every one of these stands for one negative pregnancy test and hope. I know that you don’t like them, but to me, they mean a lot and besides, this isn‘t and never will be a reason for me to leave you!“ he told you honestly.
,,I would never leave you guys,“ he swore and kissed your belly.
,,Really?“ you asked him again.
,,Really,“ he said honestly and took your hand, kissing your belly again.
Suddenly the door flew open. ,,Mommy!“ Lucy called you, seeing you in your underwear.
,,Can we go now please?“ she asked you.
,,Will you go like that? No bikini?“ she asked you, puzzled.
You and Jihyun both laughed as you let go of your husband and went to get your swim suit.
,,I’ll be ready in a bit, baby,“ you told her and slowly got into it while Jihyun helped you so that you didn’t lose balance.
Vanderwood
After the shock of the other day, Vanderwood didn’t let you get up for the whole week, being busy with cleaning the house, packing some things for the move, and also taking care of you.
But finally, after you rested enough, to be more precise, after you told him how bad you felt and that you were better now and wanted to go out again, he decided that it was time to finally buy more things for the baby you were going to be welcoming soon.
Now that you knew you were going to have a girl, you kind of saw the toys in a different light.
You imagined how funny it would be to play with her, style her hair, dress her in cute clothes or make her look really cool, just like the posts you saw on Pinterest.
While you were daydreaming about the future, someone else was checking the baby clothes and bottles, making sure to take high quality products only.
,,Awwee, look, Vanderwood!’’ you giggled and showed him a little princess dress.
,,She will be too little for this, you know?’’ he asked you, making you laugh.
,,I know!’’ you smiled, but still decided to buy it.
,,No, honestly, I don’t think we need to buy Barbies and cars. She won’t use them so young,’’ Vanderwood said, looking at all the toys you wanted to buy.
,,Maybe I want to play with the cars. As a child I hated playing with dolls. I would rather play with cars!’’ you laughed and put the toys back, instead going for some other toys for a newborn, such as a teddy bear.
,,These shoes are so tiny,’’ you smiled and took the baby shoes in your hand, placing the pair on your belly and tapping on it with them as if someone was walking over your belly.
Vanderwood observed you. He almost enjoyed that moment.
You were in your own little world and he loved to see how in love you were with the thought of becoming a mother.
The both of you decided to buy some more things before returning home.
Vanderwood noticed that you already felt a bit sleepy and that you were walking a bit odd because your feet were throbbing in pain.
Once at home, you sat back on your couch and leaned your head against the pillow, closing your eyes for a short moment while Vanderwood placed the bags filled with the baby stuff in the hall, checking on you first.
,,Just a few seconds,’’ you said, making him smile and walk towards you.
,,If you are exhausted, feel free to sleep a bit,’’ he approved, patting your head.
,,I had fun today, thank you,’’ you said out of the blue, making Vanderwood feel… loved.
,,This wasn’t the last time, I promise, and I had fun too…’’ he whispered and decided that today he also could enjoy your warmth and lay down next to you...
Part 5 of my pregnancy series
MASTERLIST 1
MASTERLIST 2
MASTERLIST 3
🤰🏻ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ sᴇʀɪᴇs🤰🏻Masterlist here
19.05.2021// 21:44 MEST
#pregnancy#mystic messenger pregnancy#trigger warnings#jumin han#jumin x reader#jumin x mc#zen hyun ryu#zen x mc#zen x reader#yoosung kim#yoosung x reader#yoosung x mc#jaehee kang#jaehee x mc#jaehee x reader#saeyoung choi#saeyoung x mc#saeyoung x reader#seven x mc#707 x mc#luciel choi#luciel x reader#luciel x mc#saeran choi#saeran x mc#saeran x reader#jihyun kim#jihyun x mc#jihyun x reader#vanderwood x mc
165 notes
·
View notes
Text
Game On | Chapter 1
Valkyrie x Reader x Carol Danvers
In which, drunk!you thinks sending nudes to the King of Asgard and the most powerful Avenger... is a good idea.
Warnings: None
Here's the thing. Sending Valkyrie your nudes was an accident. Legally speaking, the nudes were meant for Carol. If you wanted to get even more technical, you weren't even supposed to text either one of them unless there was an emergency. You hadn't realized it at first. You curled up next to your cat, practically smug with your boldness. What better way to show you're available, you thought. You had checked your phone again to revel in it only to see the photo had not only been sent to Carol. It was there, right under Valkyrie's name. Wish you were here x.
You were well and truly fucked.
Working as a S.W.O.R.D agent meant few privileges. One of those privileges you had abused. Greatly. You had sent lewd photos to not only an Avenger, but the King of Asgard. Strong 10000 year old alcohol be damned, Fury wouldn't accept that as an excuse.
"You gonna tell me what's up or we just gonna sit here?" Darcy asked. Your roommate munched absentmindedly on a piece of chocolate. She was blessed enough to not have drank the ale. The buzz of it still causing your world to sway even as you began to sober up.
"I sent nudes to someone,” you whined.
She smiled. Patted your thigh. “That's okay, Y/N. We all send nudes sometimes."
“No you don’t get it. I sent them to the Asgardian king.”
“Thor has a phone?”
“No. Valkyrie.”
You can see she's trying her best not to laugh.
“It’s not funny.”
“You’re gonna start an intergalactic war.”
“Fuck off.”
“Fury’s gonna be pissed.”
“Don’t tell him!” Your words dissolved into drunken hiccups. You sloppily tried to take another sip of the ale, but Darcy snatched it. You frowned. “Do you… do you think she read it?”
“She doesn’t have read receipts? An IPhone?”
“No, I think she has an Android.”
Darcy quietly tittered, mulling the information over. “Who did you even mean to send nudes to?”
"Don't freak out.”
“Y/N.”
“Say you won’t freak out.”
“Just tell me!”
“Darcy!”
“Spit it out!”
“Captain Marvel,” you hesitantly answered.
Darcy shrugged. “Well, at least you didn’t send it to her, too.”
“No I did.”
One.
Two.
She laughed. "I'm sorry," she said between breathes. "I'm sorry. This is just... you're fucked."
To her credit, she tried to stop laughing. It doesn't work, but she tried. A few minutes past before she finally can speak again - tears having long since stained her face. She wiped them and took a deep breathe.
"You could just text them something like, 'Oh my god. I'm so sorry. This wasn't meant for you," she offered.
"I could." You nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I could do that."
You picked up your phone, ready to send another message. In your hands, it vibrated.
---
Carol hated texting. Sometimes, she thought maybe that was why her and Thor were so close. She was traveling the galaxy. He was traveling the galaxy. She hated texting. He didn’t have a phone. She preferred communication the old fashion way like through hologram or sheer word of mouth.
She checked her phone as soon as she received the message and now it was waiting on the countertop of the bar face down.
“If someone sent me a picture, I would’ve been all over that,” Rocket burped.
“That’s not what she needs to hear right now, Rocket,” Thor turned to her. “So what are we doing here? Are you going to respond or…”
“I responded,” she said. And she had.
She said word for word, ‘Oh is this an emergency?’
You had sent the photos when she was on some off time with Thor. They all had just gotten back from a mission liberating refugees from a wannabe empire. She had been ready to dash back to Earth when she saw your name light up her phone screen. When she opened the message… completely different story.
Thor scrunched up his nose and shrugged.
“What?” asked Carol.
“If I sent promiscuous photos to a potential love interest, I would want a bit more…” He gestured to the air.
Carol scrunched her brows. “You would want what?”
“I don’t know. Romance?”
Rocket slammed his beer on the table. “Send them a tongue emoji.”
“I don’t like texting. Why couldn’t they just,” she threw up her hands. “I don’t know. Send a hologram.”
“Look. Forget everything else. Do you wanna get laid or not?” demanded Rocket.
Carol cocked her head to the side and begrudgingly nodded. “Then stop dicking around. It’s annoying. Some of us haven’t got laid in years and you’re over here squandering your opportunities.”
“So what? I travel a billion light years away for sex?”
Before Thor can interject, Rocket growled. “You can breathe in space. Going to Earth for you is like me or Thor here going to the bathroom.”
Carol sighed. “The raccoon has a point.”
“Fuck you.”
----
“C’mon Valkyrie. Just once.”
“I will not play Fortnite with you.”
Korg frowned or she assumed he did. It was always hard to tell. “But-”
“No.”
Her phone had long since vibrated in her pocket. A fact that she had chosen to ignore. The Midgardians seemed to always have issues. Even on Sundays which were supposed to be her self-care days. She picked it up, ready to see some frantic message about one crisis or another. The sky is falling. Nuclear weapons. Blah blah blah.
“Oh.” She nearly dropped it.
“What is it?” Korg peered over her shoulder. “It seems like someone sent you a gift.”
There were two photos with the caption ‘wish you were here x’. It was simple enough. Valkyrie tried to remember the last conversation she had with you. Had you been flirting? It was last Tuesday when she had been discussing global affairs with the other world leaders. You had been there, but in between all of the political nonsense, it was hard to figure it all out.
Korg was still peering over her shoulder. Valkyrie quirked her brow at him.
“Sorry.” He went back to his game. “Are you going to respond to Y/N? I like them. Gave me some good rocks once.”
“Rocks?”
“Yeah, I think they thought I eat them. Not their fault. My mum’s boyfriend used to think the same thing. I use them to decorate me flower garden, though.”
Valkyrie nodded and took a sip of her beer. “Should I respond?”
“You should do what your heart tells you.” He sighed. “Sorry. I’ve been watching a lot of them Disney movies. Have you seen the one with the girl on the islands?”
“No, I don’t think I’ve seen that one.”
“It’s good. She sings.”
Valkyrie took another swig of her beer, typing out a response to your photos.
‘This is way better than what I was expecting.’ And waited.
----
"She's annoying."
"I mean, she is right."
"Seriously?"
"What?" Darcy hesitantly took a sip of Thor's alcohol. "I think it's a valid question. Is it an emergency?"
"It is," you half-questioned.
"Is it?"
"It is," you said with more force.
"Then, say that," Darcy took another sip. "This shit really hits you. I get why..." She burped.
Right after you hit send, another message came through. Valkyrie.
"Well," you begin. "Valkyrie appreciated it."
"Of course she did." When you stared at her, Darcy shrugged. "She seems like really chill. Stared at your ass in one of our meetings."
"She did? When?"
"I don't know. It was like, so far ago."
"She said it was way better than what she was expecting."
"So, she wants you."
"Yeah," you said slowly. The King of Asgard wanted you. Wanted more of you. You reread the message. "I'm gonna flirt back."
Darcy nodded, taking another small sip of the ale.
I guess I should've done this sooner, you texted back.
Her response was immediate. We’ll have to make up for lost time.
"Valkyrie's so hot," you whispered.
Just then, Carol responded. And what would you like me to do about this emergency?
You walked over to the counter and grabbed the bottle, taking a tiny sip of the alcohol. Just enough to give you a boost of confidence. You spared a glance at your friend. Her alcohol tolerance was higher than yours and yet, her cheeks were already pink. She nodded at the bottle, her eyebrows raised slightly.
"You look ah, flustered."
"You look drunk."
She held one finger up, wobbly walked herself to the couch. "Touche."
There was no reason you couldn't have fun, right? They didn't know that you had texted them both. No one knew save for Darcy and she could keep a secret. You could have fun with this. They both wanted you - honestly, you should take advantage of this opportunity. What was that phrase people loved saying? Live life or whatever the fuck.
"Yeah," Darcy cheered.
You hadn't realized you'd been talking out loud.
To Valkyrie, you send: When can we get started?
You took a deep breathe before texting Carol. Your fingers hovered over the send button for minutes longer than necessary.
I'd like you to fuck me, you sent back.
Game on.
#carol danvers x reader#carol danvers imagine#valkyrie x reader#valkyrie imagine#captain marvel x reader#captain marvel imagine#marvel imagine#carol danvers#captain marvel#valkyrie
200 notes
·
View notes
Text
Operation Hot Potato
Summary:
“See? She’s just a baby~” you coo, gently wiggling the kitten in his face.
Lucifer grimaces. Takes another, larger step back. “If a baby is what you want, I’d rather give you one myself.”
(You bring home a kitten and try to hide her from Lucifer. Unfortunately for you, nothing gets past the House of Lamentation’s resident pet-hater.)
Word Count: 3.6k
AO3 Portal
You found a kitten.
Well—kind of. It’s debatable.
You think it’s a kitten. She certainly looks like one—fluffy little thing with snow-white fur, blue eyes, a poofy little triangular head, and the most perfectly pink toe beans you’ve ever had the pleasure of squishing.
The reason why you’re so hesitant to call her a kitten?
She breathes fire. Hiccups fireballs. Sneezes flaming hot streams of… well, flames.
You learned that firsthand ten minutes ago, when you nearly got your eyebrows singed off by a particularly dangerous sneeze. All you wanted to do was give her a smooch on her wittle pink nose, you weren’t expecting to get blasted in the face with an orangey-red inferno.
But you know what? It doesn’t matter if she’s a little strange. You’ve sworn your everlasting love to your newfound daughter—your secret daughter that the demon brothers can absolutely not know about under any circumstances whatsoever, because you just know that Lucifer will make you put her back in the wild where you found her.
Your fire-sneezing, bouncing baby girl wouldn’t last another day out in the harsh wilderness (aka the dumpster that you retrieved her from). In the forty-seven minutes that you’ve had her, she’s grown accustomed to belly scratches, sleeping in your bed, and gnawing on only the finest tortilla chips in the Devildom.
Her name is Tater Tot.
She sticks out like a sore white thumb among your colorful assortment of pillows. Not that she cares. She’s living it up in the lap of luxury. Tater Tot stretches—turns around with every paw in the air, proudly showing off her rotund little baby belly, and mrrps at you.
Its the cutest thing you've ever fucking seen. You just wanna SQUEEZE her. Ugh, who would've guessed that a little trash fire baby would steal your heart so quickly?
And it’s not like you broke the rules and brought home a pet on purpose. Tater Tot had chosen you. By choosing to rummage around in that specific dumpster that you just so happened to walk past on your way home from RAD, Tater Tot had effectively decided that you were to be her new caretaker.
It’s fate. Kismet. You’ve wanted a pet for so long—dog, cat, dragon, gremlin, doesn’t matter. You’ve spent hours upon hours bitching and moaning to anyone that’ll listen about how badly you’ve wanted a pet to smother with your love. Nobody has been able to escape your woe. Everyone—the brothers, the angels, Solomon, and even your good buddy Diavolo (somehow, Barbatos has managed to evade you) have all been forced to listen to your lamenting about the pet-shaped hole in your heart.
But finally—finally—your prayers have been answered.
With a fire breathing kitten.
Oh yeah. Kismet.
You’re fairly certain that Tater Tot has never lived in a house. She had been perfectly content to snuggle up in your school uniform like some kind of tiny, pouch dwelling, heat seeking creature, until you had snuck into your bedroom and closed the door behind you.
The second you set her on the floor, it was like a switch flipped. Tater Tot had shown off her unnatural strength by flinging her little puffball body around the room like a possessed tumbleweed, spastically crashing around the room and knocking over furniture and keepsakes alike.
You had finally cornered her under your bed and sat peacefully nearby, humming quietly to calm her. It didn’t take long for you to coax her out with snacks—she liked the chips, but passionately disliked the gummy worms—and within twenty minutes you had Tater Tot lounging with you on the bed, rubbing her soft little cheeks into your palm for rubs and scritches.
You need to come up with a plan to hide your beloved child ASAP. It’s only a matter of time until either Lucifer hauls you off to his room or one of the brothers decides to camp out in yours for the night, and if word gets back to Lucifer that you’re harboring a fugitive animal… Well, favoritism or not, it won’t end pretty.
Though perhaps there is one person who can help you with this little secret.
Satan. The cat-loving fourth brother.
Man oh man, he’s going to be thrilled with sweet little Tater Tot. You have to be careful though—you reckon that there is a 96% chance that he’ll try to steal her away from you. Trying to juggle custody battles and harboring your secret daughter from Lucifer all at the same time sounds like such a pain.
But… That would still be better than having to put Tater Tot back on the streets.
With the threat of big-meanie-Lucifer looming over you like a particularly gothic and pet-hating phantom, you come to a final decision. You’re just going to have to pull on your big girl pants and accept the soul crushing truth of the situation.
Satan is your only hope.
But how are you going to sneak your daughter all the way over to his room?
You look around your own room for something, anything that can hide your beloved dumpster pet and—ohohoho.
~
“Darling?”
You freeze midstep.
Busted.
“What’s up, Lucifer?” You try so hard to keep your voice calm and normal. So hard.
Judging by the way Lucifer looks at you, you’ve failed. And you were so close. Satan’s bedroom is literally right there! Only a few yards away! If only you’d just had ten more seconds to yourself in the dark hallway... Alas, the warden your beloved Lucifer aka the resident pet hater stands between you and the dusty salvation that is Satan’s library of a bedroom.
You shuffle your feet a bit nervously. Readjust your grip on the cardboard box. A bit warily, Lucifer eyes it.
“What’s in the box?”
You panic. “What box?”
Fuck.
Lucifer cracks a smile, though it doesn’t meet his gaze. He gestures to the cardboard box that you are currently holding near to your chest like some sort of ugly, cubic liferaft.
“Oh!” You laugh. It’s too high pitched. Suspicious. “This box? It’s just some books for Satan, it’s nothing—”
The box sneezes.
Your mouth snaps shut and you thank all the fucking stars in heaven that this sneeze didn’t flambé you.
Lucifer’s eyes narrow accusingly. Tone icy and sharp, he says, “Books? Is that so?”
Fuck fuck fuck fuck—
You wilt a bit under the intensity of his gaze. “They’re… cursed books? Yeah, so cursed and dangerous and only Satan knows how to nullify the evilness of these books so I’m gonna just slip past you—”
Lucifer takes a step to the left, planting himself firmly in your path and effectively thwarting your desperate grand escape. A single blade of moonlight cuts through the curtains and slices through the shadows, Lucifer now caught in the spotlight and—oh that fucker did that on purpose. Ugh, what a drama queen.
Red eyes practically glowing in the dark, he nods menacingly at the box. “Go on then. Open it.”
“I dunno, I really shouldn’t because of the curses and—”
Clearly not in the mood to entertain your scheming-slash-rambling, Lucifer takes matters into his own hands. Before you can twist away, one of his hands darts out to knock the lid off of the box and—
Books. It’s filled with books.
He frowns. Lifts one up and—nope, there’s just more books underneath. “...What?”
“Happy? Now if you don’t mind I really should get—”
“Let me help you with that.”
Your reflexes aren't fast enough. Before you can leap back or Sparta kick him away, Lucifer plucks the box right out of your arms… and reveals a squirming lump beneath your sweater, right inbetween your breasts. The box hits the floor. Lucifer stares at your newly acquired mass with a very particular sort of horror that you’ve never seen before.
You panic. Again.
“...I grew a new boob. I think the Devildom air is toxic or something, but it’s okay! The more the merrier, right? We can still—gET YOUR HANDS OFF MY TIDDIES—”
Lucifer presses one hand to your lower back, trapping you, and yanks down your zipper, revealing the purrito that is wrapped kind-of-securely to your chest with a scarf. He recoils backwards, looking equal parts horrified and peeved off.
Time for Plan B.
93% sure that you can still recover from this situation that is rapidly soaring downhill, you stuff your hands into your pockets and then throw them outwards, flinging fistfuls of rainbow confetti into the air. “Surpriiiise! You’re a daddy! Say hello to our daughter.”
“No.”
“Her name is Tater Tot. Personally, I think she takes after you.”
The Tater in question shimmies out of her silky prison and tumbles nose first into your palms. You hold her right up to Lucifer’s face, grinning like a goddamn sociopath when he takes an alarmed step backwards. Little puffball paws desperately try to swipe at his nose. Lucifer looks downright offended by the assault of pink toe beans.
“See? She’s just a baby~” you coo, gently wiggling the noodle-limp kitten in his face.
Lucifer grimaces. Takes another, larger step back. “If a baby is what you want, I’d rather give you one myself.”
“As fun as that sounds, we have a perfectly good one right here!”
“That thing is not a baby. Where did you find it?”
There’s a concerned little scrunch in his brow that you wanna smooth over with your thumb, but when you try to close the distance between you two, he moves further out of reach. Frowning, you hug Tater Tot to your chest. She snuggles her face into the crook of your neck and purrs like the smallest biodiesel engine in all of the realms.
“I found her in a dumpster!” you say, perhaps a bit too proudly.
Lucifer’s eyes widen. “In the city?”
“Why is that so shocking? Does the Devildom not have stray cats?”
“That’s not a cat.”
“Well yeah I kinda figured, what with the whole fire breathing thing and all, but—”
“It’s a chimera.”
You stare at Lucifer. Try to gauge how serious he’s being. Tater Tot nibbles on your thumb with little needle-like teeth.
Surely he’s joking.
“...Like the lion-goat-lizard thing? That chimera?”
Lucifer nods.
Like you’re in some twisted version of the Lion King, you hold Tater Tot up in the beam of moonlight that Mr. Doom and Gloom had previously been occupying. Examine her totally normal kitten-features. The distinct lack of goat hooves. Miss Tater licks her nose. A Chimera? Her?
Surely he’s fucking with you.
But… it would explain the whole fire-breathing thing. Kind of. You’re not fully convinced he’s lying, but the truth doesn’t make much more sense.
But if she is a chimera… that’s so badass.
If Lucifer thinks for one second that Tater Tot being a nightmarish Hell creature is going to scare you into giving her up, then he is sorely mistaken. (You did choose to date him, after all. You're an expert at loving on Hellish beings.) At the end of the day, whether Tater is a chimera or a cat or whatever the hell else, you’ve already bonded with each other. She’s your baby and you are not going to let him get rid of her.
If he gets Cerberus, then you get your funky little Tater Tot, dammit.
Lucifer watches this journey of emotions play out on your face. His eyes narrow. He says your name slowly, strained—a thinly veiled warning in his voice.
The grin that overtakes your face can only be described as evil.
“We’re keeping her.”
“Absolutely not.”
~
“You can’t be serious.”
From the depths of your blanket fort, your hand emerges to flip Lucifer off. He scowls.
“This blanket fort is only for Tater Tot and me.”
“Then perhaps you should relocate to your bed.” Lucifer growls.
You snuggle further into the black sheets cocooning you. With impressive speed, you had raced back to Lucifer’s room and stripped every piece of fabric from his bed in record time. From there, it was simply a matter of combining the dark sheets with a bunch of pillows and voila. You had created your very own anti-Lucifer fortress, right in the middle of his bed.
Tater Tot army-crawls across your thigh and worms her way into the sheets, vanishing like a ninja.
"What?" You peek at Lucifer through a small opening in the fabric. “But then you would just ignore me and Tater Tot.”
“Yes, exactly. I’m glad that we’re on the same page.”
“No! We’re not on the same page at all,” you scowl. “I’m not moving until you bond with her.”
“Then I suppose you’ll be stuck there forever.”
“Maybe I will!”
You can’t see him right now, but you know in the depths of your heart that Lucifer is rolling his eyes at you.
Which, y’know. Fair. You are being a little bit ridiculous. But what choice do you have? The confetti didn't work and Lucifer needs to form an everlasting bond with Tater Tot. He needs to experience how lovely and precious and wonderful your little baby is, so that he won’t make you put her back in the dumpster where you found her.
You have one last tactic. It is by far the absolute worst.
Talking to him. Like some kind of functioning, responsible adult, because apparently that's what you're supposed to do in a healthy relationship. Blegh.
While you agonize over stooping to this final resort, Lucifer climbs into the bed without a word and settles himself in like he owns the place. Which he does. But that’s beside the point.
One of your arms emerges from the blanket shield to poke at his pajama clad thigh. He doesn’t react. So naturally, you poke him again. And again. And again, until finally he sighs, “What?”
You squirm your way out of the stuffy blankets, gulping down air once you're free—sweet baby Jesus, fresh air has never felt so good—and Tater Tot flies out after you, rocketing across the mattress at the speed of light and tumbling around like a little white pom pom. While she does her own thing, you worm your way into Lucifer’s side so that you’re halfway on top of his chest. He huffs and lays there like a board, refusing to hug you, so you grab his arm and wrap it around your shoulders yourself.
Here goes nothing.
“Why are you so against having a pet?” you ask, dancing the pads of your fingers over his chest.
Lucifer cracks one eye open. “The first and last time I allowed pets in the house, Satan brought home 48 cats. In one hour.”
...You really should have seen that one coming.
“Oh. Well, I mean… Is that reallyyy a bad thing—ow! You jerk, I was just kidding.” You pout. “You didn’t have to pinch my butt that hard.”
Lucifer snickers and pats your butt consolingly. “Mmm, no, I didn’t. But I wanted to.”
Briefly, you consider headbutting him right in the chin. But alas, that wouldn’t solve anything, so you settle for pressing a kiss to his collarbone, then reach a hand up to play with his hair, just how he likes. It’s not very ~vengeful~ buuut it’s bound to put him in a better mood.
You trace cutesy little heart shapes on his right pec. “You know what I want?”
Lucifer closes his eyes—lets his head fall back onto the mattress. “We’re not keeping her.”
You snuggle into his chest with a happy little hum. “Yes we are.”
“...Just for the night. Tomorrow you're putting her back where you found her."
~
You wake up in agony.
It feels like you’ve had a lung ripped out and replaced with serrated knives. Or shark teeth. Each breath drags oh so painfully at your—just kidding.
You wake up well rested and tangled in the bedsheets, your head hanging off the side of the mattress. You’re a little hazy-brained and your skull feels like it weighs a thousand pounds, but that’s probably because of all the blood rushing to your head. When you roll over and haul yourself back up onto the bed, a noise escapes you that is definitely not fit for polite company.
The murky depths of slumber threaten to take you again, so you pat around the bed with your hand, looking for your favorite demon-slash-body pillow. You pat. And keep patting. Where the hell is Lucifer?
You crack one bleary eye open, trying to find Lucifer and—
Where the hell is Tater Tot?
Your heart jolts in your chest as you realize a few things all at once.
One: Lucifer is missing.
Two: Tater Tot is missing.
Three: You slept through breakfast, but that’s less important.
You’re off like a shot, wrestling yourself out of the sheets and flinging them to the floor, then stumbling across the room to get to the door before your brain can even fully wake up. It’s fine, you don’t need 100% brainpower, you just need to find your baby.
You’ve barely taken four steps into the hallway when you slam nose first into Mammon. He catches you, saving your face from becoming acquainted with the floor, and you grab him by the leathery lapels of his jacket.
“Where’s Lucifer?!” you hiss.
Mammon desperately tries to squirm out of your feral grip. You shake him like a polaroid picture.
“Geez, knock it off would ya?! He’s in his office, what the hell is up with you? Wh—HEY! I’M NOT DONE TALKIN’ TO YA!”
Whatever the Weenie has to say to you is less important than finding your child, so as soon as you acquire Lucifer’s location, you haul ass to Lucifer’s study.
~
In a raging fury that could rival Satan’s existence, you fling open the door, ready to tear Lucifer a new one for not even letting you say goodbye to your beloved kitten and—
And your heart melts into a warm, gooey puddle.
Lucifer is sitting at his desk. Tater Tot is draped across his shoulders.
Lucifer glares at you, but there's no real bite in his gaze. “Keep it down, Phobos is sleeping.”
You blink stupidly, your brain racing at a thousand miles an hour to catch up with whatever the hell you’re currently feeling that has you all mushy and moon-eyed. “Phobos? What the hell? That’s not her name at all.”
“My love, we are not naming our daughter after potatoes. Her name is now Phobos. She and I came to a mutual agreement that it is far more fitting of a name for a creature of her pedigree.”
...You’re so torn. On one hand, you want to argue that Tater Tot is a lovely name for your dumpster kitten-chimera-thing, but on the other hand… he called her ‘our daughter’. As in your guys’s daughter. This can only mean one thing, and you clutch at your heart when you realize what’s happening.
They bonded.
It damn well might bring a tear to your eyes.
You make your way over to Lucifer, shove aside the papers on his desk, and perch your happy ass right on the hardwood.
With a bone deep sigh, Lucifer leans back in his chair. “Why do you always do that? My lap is available, you know.”
Tater Tot wakes up and lifts her heavy little sleep-addled head to meep at you.
You grin—hook your ankles around the armrests of his chair and pull him closer. “So… does this mean we’re keeping Tater Tot?”
“... Yes, we’re keeping Phobos. But that’s it, no more pets.”
“Okay, wait. Hear me out. What about a dog?”
“Absolutely not.”
Lucifer plucks another white hair from his RAD uniform and holds it up to the moonlight, scowling at the offensive thing. Why in all the realms did you have to find a white cat? The damned thing has only lived with you lot for two days and yet somehow its hair has already gotten over every article of black clothing in his wardrobe. It’s infuriating.
His gaze wanders across the courtyard to where you’re sitting pretty on Beel’s shoulders, clawing at his face with your fingertips and screaming in terror at how high up you are. He grins.
He can put up with the shedding fur, so long as he gets to see how your eyes shine like the stars when you see Phobos.
Still though. Why couldn’t you find a black kitten?
“Lucifer! There you are!”
Lucifer flicks the cat hair—lets the breeze catch it and float it away. Before he can even get a proper greeting in, Diavolo is pulling him in for a bone crushing hug.
“You’re here a bit later than usual. How’s life with the new kitten treating you?” Diavolo asks.
Lucifer steps out of the hug and eyes Diavolo warily. “Just fine, thank yo—wait. How do you know about the cat?”
Diavolo blinks innocently. “Surely you told me about her, didn’t you?”
No, he definitely did not—oh no.
Lucifer stares, slack jawed and horrified, because in that moment, he realizes something that he refuses to accept.
No.
No. It can’t be.
Diavolo would never do that to him. He would ne—oh fuck, he absolutely did.
Diavolo planted the cat. He knew that you would find her in that dumpster and take her home.
Lucifer has never known a betrayal quite like this. Diavolo says something about heading off to his office, but he doesn’t hear him over the rushing in his ears.
“Diavolo.”
The demon prince in question pauses in his escape to look back at Lucifer. “Yes, Lucifer?”
“Why did you have to pick a white cat?”
And oh, Diavolo laughs. A full belly laugh that quite honestly kills Lucifer. Just a little bit.
#gnocchiwrites#obey me shall we date#obey me#swd obey me#obey me lucifer#obey me drabble#obey me fanfic#obey me! shall we date?#tater tot's adventures
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
💭
Ayyy Congrats Chlo! Can I get a 💭 of Noah when his girl is pregnant? Like how is he through it snd when she's in labor?
no more requests, the sleepover is over, I'm just finishing up what's in my inbox!
I got so carried away with this
he would be so good by the labour stage
but lets be real, he takes a hot minute to get adjusted
now, don't get me wrong, this was planned
and he is damn excited to be a dad
you've been taking folic acid and vitamin D and all the good stuff
and you were both elated and crying when the test came back positive
but he does take a moment to actually realise what it means
like he did not think that far through, if he's honest
rubbing your back throughout morning sickness
but like, he doesn't quite get it
you have a significantly lowered sex drive
breast tenderness and morning sickness and he is kinda sexually frustrated
it takes him a moment to adjust to that because y'all had been pretty active before, and he has to take care of himself now
not to mention, you're a lot more sleepy
he knew you'd get sleepy, but he expected it to come later, not as early in the pregnancy as the first few weeks
so there's a lot of things that have to be cancelled
like concerts and things
but he was looking forwards to them
and it causes some arguments to begin with
like when he went to the concert with boyd instead
and you'd put a blanket and pillow on the couch for him
or the argument that came with him insisting that he could ride the bike a little longer
and the little strop he gets in when you throw out all the foods on the list your midwife gave you after your first antenatal appointment
"you can't eat them, but I can! why do we have to throw it all out?"
"because you're supposed to be supporting me!"
"I am supporting you, but I still want to eat my food!"
"fine, keep it then!"
and he feels bad two weeks later when you go to game night
and derek and stiles have laid out an awesome looking spread
with charcuterie boards and cheeses and crackers and wine
and he knows how much you love all of that stuff
and you literally can't have any of it
in fact, you brought your own meal, which is a salad and plain crackers and it's not exactly game night material
and so he does some research into food and writes down everything you can and can't have
and he watches a video on best recipes for pregnancy and he makes one for you
a little surprise dinner for when you get home from work
"what's all this?"
"well, you know, your meals look kinda' miserable. but, you're literally growing our child, so you should get to eat nice things, and I googled a good recipe for pregnancy safe meals."
noah getting laid that night
and afterwards, when you're asleep on his chest, he realises how easy it is when he stops thinking it's gonna be a struggle
at around about 7 weeks, you start getting more emotional
crying more at movies and getting mad at random things and being a lot clingier than usual
which he doesn't mind, of course
but it freaks him out sometimes
"noah, what the fuck?" while in tears and he's freaking out because he has no idea how bad he fucked up or what he did "there's a dead bird in the garden, noah, that's got to be some kind of omen, oh my god, what if you die? why would you just die, noah?"
so he cleans up the dead bird
but now you're mad because you're worried about him abandoning you
"baby, if I was gonna' abandon you then why would I have married you, huh?"
and it takes him a hot minute to get used to that too
however, he also learns how to direct it at other people for his own amusement
"hey, baby, did you know that stiles wears socks to bed, even in the summer?"
"you wear socks to sleep in the summer? you're sick, stiles. you're sick. I don't want you near my child, you're weird, you and your socks and your sweaty toes can stay away. you're so gross."
"what the fuck?"
and noah just laughing his ass off about it
you also have to pee a lot more so noah has to take that into account
you're still fully able to go hiking and do the things the two of you love doing
but he has to plan in your pee breaks
not to mention, you're still throwing up every morning
so, he can't plan too much, but he does plan a little weekend getaway for you both
with a privately rented cabin so that you can throw up each morning in peace and don't feel like you're being watched
panicking when you get spotting at week 8
and that really throws you both through a loop
rushing to the hospital and he's unfamiliar with driving your car
so it stresses him out to know he's useless in emergencies
it turns out to be nothing
but noah is pretty sure he's never cried that hard
not to mention, in a public bathroom, just so he didn't scare you
and when he gets home, like, fuck, it's a reality check for him
he starts getting driving lessons
he has a license and all but he's rusty
and he wants to be prepared, so he starts taking lessons
he also starts checking out bigger cars for the two of you
because your little car won't do in a few years
"you know, not that I'm complaining, but I've noticed you aren't wearing bras anymore."
watching your cheeks go fucking warm as you get all embarrassed
"do you wanna go shopping, get some comfier ones?"
"you are gonna go pregnancy bra shopping with me?"
"well, considering how proud I am when I get to go regular bra shopping with you, I think pregnancy bra shopping is the same."
going with you to get tests and scans done
literally crying again when you hear the heartbeat
"we made that, oh my god."
texting everyone he knows when you get your due date estimate
holding your hands when you have to get your pregnancy vaccinations
actually taking notes when the midwife starts talking about making a birthing plan and getting things sorted before you get to the third trimester
and he does a lot of research on birthing plans and starts prepping
going on every shopping trip with you
"I want to get the nursery painted, like, a while before the baby comes. so we can air it out for fumes."
"we can go check samples out this weekend."
"well, I mean, that's soon, like, really?"
"yeah, whatever you want, sunshine."
getting laid again
and when the morning sickness goes away, he starts getting his late morning sleep back
starting to get self-conscious about extra pregnancy weight gain
and noah doing everything he can to reassure you
but as you get into the second trimester, your sex drive suddenly jumps back up
and he fucking loves it
because that's a lot of unprotected sex and a lot of making out and a lot of touching
and honestly, something about it is really turning him on
"baby, I don't know if it's your glow or the fact that I am literally so in love with you, or maybe the months of not having sex, but I've literally never been this hard."
"shut up and fuck me, you can compliment me later."
"'kay."
throughout your second trimester, you get everything done
the nursery gets decorated and the furniture is built and it's perfect
there's only the little touches now, like mobiles and clothes and such
he also bought the new car, and traded yours in
and he arranged for you to get lessons in it too, so you know how to drive a bigger car before you get too pregnant to drive safely
crying the first time the baby moves. so much fucking crying.
and getting so excited every time
it's few and far between in the middle of your second trimester, but it's so meaningful
starting to go to pregnancy classes
and he also signs you both up for a pregnancy exercise class
that is supposedly meant to make labour easier because of the pelvic floor exercises
having a few days where you're nervous around him
thinking he did something wrong
"I think I'm gonna want to take an epidural."
"that's what you've been so worried about?"
"well, yeah. I read all these pamphlets about how it's so controversial and sometimes the dads don't like it, an-"
"I want you to be happy, okay? it's gonna be a happy time, so whatever you want, we'll do, okay? I want you to smile when you look back on the birth of our baby."
"I love you, so damn much."
"I love you so damn much."
finding out the sex of the baby, neither of you wants to wait
telling everyone it's a secret until the baby shower
your bump really starting to come in at the end of the second trimester
as well as headaches and backaches and stretch marks
and noah always making sure to kiss it better
a lot of nice warm baths and washing your hair for you
the baby starts responding to touch and sound, though
noah starts talking to the baby a lot
telling them about your day and rubbing lotion on your stomach
the baby getting hiccups for the first time
in the beginning of the second trimester, you start choosing names
more tears when you settle on a name
the third trimester is where you really start feeling it
you’ve got mood swings, you’ve got backache, and you’re getting a lot of odd cravings
all of which noah indulges for you
some make him gag and he actually cannot watch you eat it
banning food in bed
it caused an argument but he won that one
announcing the gender at your baby shower
you and noah dressing in white while waiting for everyone’s guesses
it’s a girl!
you announced it via a little cake cutting ceremony that was pink inside
using those last few weeks to decorate the nursery with teddies and buy clothes
when you finally go into labour it’s actually while you’re hanging out with stiles and derek
thinking it’s just cramps for a while
because you’ve been having cramps, you think it’s fine
until
“uh, (Y/N), you know I love you, but did you pee on my couch?”
“excuse me, I did not pee on your couch an- oh my god, they’re contractions.”
noah literally choking on his drink
you rubbing his back as he tries to cough it up
panicking so much that his whole fucking birthing plan goes out of the window
“the bag is at home!”
“what about your pillow?”
“fuck! fuck! fuck!”
derek is the only calm one because stiles is;
“HOLY FUCK, IM GONNA BE AN UNCLE, GIMME A NEICE!”
and noah is
“HOLY FUCK, IM GONNA BE A FATHER!”
so derek coordinates it all while you just kinda sit there and watch it all
“okay, well, her contractions are now, like, eight minutes apart, so maybe we should get a move on.”
telling stiles to take you to the hopsital while he takes noah to pick everything up
and off you go
stiles is fucking buzzing the whole way there
calling your hospital to inform them you’re on your way
getting to the hospital and being greeted by your midwife
“lovely to see you again, mom and dad”
“I DIDN’T MAKE THAT.”
“thanks, stiles.” your midwife being confused. “this is the uncle, they’re twins. dad is on his way.”
“I’M THE UNCLE!”
“stop shouting stiles, the baby won’t come out, you’re scaring it back up.”
“sorry.”
stiles holding your hand
noah arriving five minutes later with more than enough stuff
“I didn’t know which pjs you’d want after so I brought options!”
after a good few hours of labour, and noah being there for all of it, your baby is born
literally crashing right after and sleeping for a while
“‘bout fuckin time you woke up, noah won’t let me see my niece ‘til you have. hurry up.”
“I will punch you so hard you’ll be glad you’re in a hospital.”
“that’s my wife”
“sorry.”
meeting your daughter with noah, and having a moment
because he’s put her in a little pink striped onesie and she’s got a baby beanie on
“she’s got your nose.”
“you can’t tell that, she’s like six hours old.”
“i can hope.”
finally taking her to meet stiles who practically dies on the spot
he cries a lot when he finally gets to hold his niece
“stiles, derek, meet ‘hope claudia stilinski’.”
#9ksleepover#hope stilinski is like emma rapp#i made a new baby character#she’s my new au character pls#i love her#don’t steal her
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
flesh and blood || 3 (FINAL)
You are living in a society that is just now picking up the scraps that the Great Outbreak left behind after the government killed off the majority of the zombies. Still, some remain, and fear still lies within society’s walls. So imagine your surprise when the very thing you’ve been taught to fear ends up saving your life, showing you that maybe two beating hearts aren’t always required when it comes to love.
pairing: zombie!jungkook x reader
word count: 8k
genre: post-apocalyptic, sci-fi, smut
warnings: murder, guns, renegade shit oh and ZOMBIE PEEPEE
A/N: inspired by warm bodies and the fact that I’m a legitimate crackhead.
01 | 02 | 03 (FINAL)
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
PART THREE (FINAL) **UNEDITED**
Jungkook woke up with a jolt, eyes blinking hurriedly as they rushed over the room in disoriented panic. His breathing was erratic and loud, failing to settle down once he realized that he was safe on the couch of the apartment, not back in the abandoned building you had saved him from.
“Jungkook? Are you okay?” You walked out into the living room suddenly, concern lacing your features.
The zombie in question gave the room one final once over before sitting up, bringing a hand up to run through his dampened bangs.
“Yeah, I just… Bad dream.” He frowned.
Sympathy flooded you, realizing that this must have been another one of his recurring nightmares. You weren’t sure about the details, but you were fairly certain it had something to do with the group of zombies he once lived with. Jungkook hardly spoke about his past – the parts he could remember – but you could see the way the sadness lingered even after the nightmare had passed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He continued solemnly.
You shook your head, “No, no, I’ve been awake, I still have a few articles to edit for work. The deadline for the newspaper issue is– Are you sure you’re okay?”
The zombie man didn’t reply, his mind clearly elsewhere in this dark room. You bit down on your lip.
Jungkook’s blank stare shifted as your open palm offering itself to him came into view. He looked up to see you looking at him expectantly, smile warm as you gestured for him to take your hand.
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
“It’s not quite outside like I wish I could take you but…”
“It’s beautiful.” He decided with a sigh.
You brought your knees to your chest, arms wrapping around them for some warmth. Naturally, there was a slight breeze as the two of you sat on the roof of your apartment building, looking over your night fallen town.
It was against Namjoon’s direct order for Jungkook to leave the apartment. Technically speaking, Jungkook hadn’t left the building. You were sure the small loophole you had carved could be overlooked. It just wasn’t right that Jungkook had to spend his days locked up in your dingy apartment.
“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, gaze rolling over the half rebuilt city, certain parts still remaining dark and unilluminated.
“Not really.” Was his honest reply.
“Okay.”
You weren’t going to push him into talking about anything he didn’t want to. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of weight he must be carrying around within him.
Jungkook looked over at you in surprise, not expecting your understanding reply.
He let out a sigh, bringing a knee up to rest his arm against it. You watched as he clenched and unclenched his hand.
“They were my brothers.” His words came out as a soft breath, barely leaving his lips. Place your chin on your knees, you looked at him with understanding, urging him to continue.
“I don’t know how to explain it. We never said a word but… we were family. We looked out for each other.”
“I’d give anything to bring them back.” Jungkook admitted woefully. There was a certain guilt sitting in his eyes as he thought over his next words, seemingly unwilling to say them. “When those guys came in with all those guns… I panicked and hid. Even as they grabbed the others and dragged them away… I stayed hidden. I should have fought for them.”
Your chest tightened at his confession, leaning over closer as you shook your head adamantly.
“No, Jungkook, you’re not at fault. None of this is your fault! You’re a zombie, you could’ve been killed on the spot if the DEAD Team saw you as a threat. You did the right thing, please you have to know that. You were scared and didn’t have time to think–”
You fell silent abruptly, left speechless as Jungkook’s hand came down on the top of your head gently, patting it comfortingly.
“It’s okay. I’m okay. You don’t have to get worked up over me.” He hummed.
Heat was rocketing up your neck, burning at your cheeks as you sat beside him with a pout, “Yes, I do. I’m worried about you…”
He cocked his head, a smug grin on his handsome face, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
Your cheeks grew warmer.
“I-I just… care about you, is all.”
Jungkook chuckled, “Sweet Y/N. Always thinking of others before herself.”
“Now you’re just making fun of me.” You sulked. You felt your breath falter as the hand on your head ran down the side of your face, his warm fingertips tracing your cheek. He could feel the way your skin burned under his.
“I mean it. I mean, you took me in without so much as a second thought. You didn’t care that I was a zombie.”
“The way you always want to help others…” His fingers made their way down your jaw, following the slight slope until it found your bottom lip, his touch just ghosting it. You didn’t dare breathe as his brows furrowed slightly. “...It’s beautiful.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest, frozen in place as if too afraid the moving would shatter the moment between us.
The same heart began to sink as he pulled his hand away suddenly, cheeks tinted pink.
“Jungkook–”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Gosh. You have to ask before you kiss someone, brains.” You turned away from him, tone of voice serious as if to scold him.
You were nodding yes before you could even contemplate his question, “Please.”
His kiss was slow, pulling away between each touch as if to savor the feeling of your mouth against his. You reveled at the feeling of his breathing synchronizing with your, his hands gripping your hips as he brought you onto his chest, pulling you impossibly close.
Despite how cold the night was, you felt like you were on fire, Jungkook’s touch warming every inch of you.
“You’re so beautiful…” Jungkook groaned as he broke the kiss, his hot tongue finding the base of your throat. You whimpered in response, admittedly growing embarrassingly wet on his lap.
Everything felt so foreign with him, your fingers running over each other for the first time. Something incredibly appealing knowing that you were still outside and that any relationship between you two would be decidedly forbidden. You urged his shirt off, fingers greedy and craving the feeling of his skin.
You swallowed back a moan as his hand found your thigh, digging into the soft exposed flesh, finger playing with the fabric of your bedtime shorts.
You had no idea just how far either of you was planning to take this. The feeling of his digits so close to the place where you were aching for him seemed to make your decision up for you.
“Jungkook…” You whined.
“Mm?”
You nipped at his jaw tenderly, audibly mewing at the sound it elicited from him. Thankfully, you didn't have to say a word, as his hand slipped between your legs without hesitation.
“You want this badly, huh.” He tutted, taking in just how wet you were for him.
Your face went hot, a small whimper of embarrassment escaping you, causing him to chuckle. He pressed a kiss against your cheek, timing the action perfectly with a roll of his thumb over your clothed clit.
“Don’t worry.” He hummed
Your breathing hitched as he ran his middle finger down your slit lightly, repeating the torturous movement until you were squirming in his lap.
Suddenly his unoccupied hand found your wrist, leading you to his crotch, “I promise you I want it just as bad.”
You groaned, tugging down the front of his pants clumsily, palming over his underwear. Jungkook’s mouth met yourself once more, tongue eager to meet yours and you both lost yourself in each other, passionate huffs escaping between you.
“Can I touch you?” You hiccuped, fingers pulling at the band of his underwear. He chuckled.
“I didn’t exactly ask you, did I?” He teased darkly. And with that confirmation, you dipped into his underwear, nearly shuttered as you wrapped your hand around his thick, hot cock.
What a sight it must have been for anyone who could see. What with you on top of each other, hands disappearing into the other's pants, soft chirps falling from you as his fingers rocked into you.
“Fuck.” Jungkook muttered, preening in the way you felt. At the way he felt.
Your hand pumped his cock, slowing down every now and then to hear him whine as you stopped to play with his leaking tip. He felt so hot and heavy in your hand; you wanted nothing more than to take it inside you. He looked too good to be true, jaw clenching with every swallowed, mouth falling ajar with every moan from him. But you knew neither had a condom. There was too much at risk, too much you didn’t know when it came to zombie-human interactions.
So this would have to do for now. Messy kisses and matching wet fingers – both of your hips rocking into each other, fervorously chasing your respective highs.
“A-Ah, shit.” You stuttered head falling forward as his thumb began its abuse down on your aching clit, having gone neglected for far too long. The feeling of his fingers stretching you out this way could never compare to the way you usually had to self serve yourself. If it didn’t feel so fucking good, you might have grown embarrassed and how noisy you were, sobbing wet and dripping.
There was something so hot about the way the either’s hands would shake when things started to feel too good, still clumsily working to get the either off.
“You’re taking my fingers so well, sweetheart.” Jungkook praised, voice shaking and uneven. He was close and you knew it.
“Feels, hmph, so good. So good. Want you inside me so bad.” You confessed, leaning over to mutter your words directly in his ear. You pressed a kiss against his neck and he groaned, clearly responding to your words well.
As if direct revenge, however, the pressure on your clit increased, his fingers curling up into you in a way that sent you straight to heaven itself. You reached your high with a cry, hand speeding up around him despite your own pleasure.
“F-Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum.” He choked out suddenly, and you reached clumsily for the shirt he had discarded beside you two. You pressed kissed into his jaw as he released himself onto the fabric with a groan of your name, sparing you from any unfortunate cum stains.
Jungkook let out a shaky breath, grabbing his shirt from you and chugging it aside, wrapping his arms around you. You were still shaking from your come down, resting your head against his shoulder as the two of you focused on your breathing.
Well, there was certainly no going back from that. You chuckled.
“Are you okay?” He grinned into the night sky, hand running down your back.
“Better than okay.” You admitted, bringing a hand up to rest against his rapidly beating chest.
Wait… Beating..?
Pushing your head off his shoulders, you turned your attention to your hand, moving it over towards the left side of Jungkook’s bare chest.
“What the fuck…”
“What’s wrong?” He wondered, confused as to your sudden fascination with his chest.
Hurriedly, you ripped your hand away, redirecting it onto the side of his neck, right under his jaw.
Jungkook watched in bewilderment as your eyes grew impossibly wide, head jerking up to meet his stare with an expression.
“Jungkook… you have a pulse!”
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Namjoon let out a noise of affirmation, pulling his two fingers away from where Jungkook’s pulse was pulsating against them.
“He has a pulse.” The scientist confirmed, raising an eyebrow.
You and Jungkook had rushed back into the apartment needless to say. You were an absolute mess, shaking your sleeping roommate awake desperately, needing to know you were just losing your fucking mind and that your zombie roommate actually had a pulse.
“How are you so calm about this?!” You scolded, arms crossing over your chest.
Namjoon gave Jungkook a sudden once over, “Why are you shirtless again?”
Your eyes went wide, mouth falling open as you moved to change the subject.
“T-That’s not what’s important! Can you focus, please?”
“Forgive me, you seem to forget I was just awoken from what ended up being a two-hour sleep after a ten-hour shift at the hospital. I’m a little out of it, okay? I don’t have postcoital dopamine flooding through me like some people.” He rolled his eyes, causing your stomach to drop.
He knew?!
“W-What are you… I don’t…”
“Oh please. Jungkook’s shirtless and his hair is all mess. Not to mention the scratches down his abs and the fresh hickey on your neck. I’m tired, not blind.” Namjoon rolled his eyes.
“I..” You stuttered.
“I can’t believe my best friend got freaky with a corpse.” He tutted, moving to sit back down on the bed he was so rudely ripped from.
“Standing right here.” The corpse in question reminded.
“He’s not dead.” You scoffed, glaring at your yawning best friend. “He’s... undead.”
“He’s also still in the room.” Jungkook said aloud, clearly talking to himself at this point.
Namjoon cocked his head from side to side, as if contemplating your words, “Mm, I dunno. Still screams necrophilia to me…”
“Shut up!”
Jungkook clapped his hands together, capturing his bickering roommates' attention, “Okay, so I have a pulse, right? Is it possible you just missed it the first time you checked?”
“Nope, you were definitely dead as a doorknob. No offense.” Namjoon added as an afterthought.
“I can’t believe he developed a pulse. How did you not think to check his pulse more than once?” You baffled.
Namjoon hummed, “Gosh, Y/N, I dunno, you discover a man has no pulse once and you just kind of expect him to uh, you know, stay dead.”
“Stop calling him dead!” You stomped a foot, growing genuinely irritated. Call it the postcoital dopamine flooding your brain but you had a hard time believing that the fully-functioning penis that you just had your hand around certainly didn’t belong to that of a dead man.
“I’m just teasing, Y/N. Honestly, I mean, other than the fact that he was once an unresponsive shell of a person, what makes him any different than you and I?” He shrugged.
“Joon…”
“I’m serious! Listen, I’ve been documenting his development since he first came to stay with us and there has been a total and complete revival of cognitive processing, specifically in concrete and abstract thinking. Not to mention the total resurrection of language comprehension and usage.”
Suddenly, an inquisitive looking Namjoon shifted his attention onto Jungkook.
“Hey, did you by chance grow hard?”
“Namjoon!” You shrieked in disbelief.
“Uh… Yes, I did.” Jungkook shifted his weight awkwardly.
“Was it difficult?” The sitting man pried, hand coming up to rub at his chin.
Your face grew hot, taken aback by your best friend’s question before reaching over him to grab one of his pillows, smacking him with it.
“What the hell kind of question is that?! I’m not as repulsive as you think I am, asshole.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that.” Namjoon explained, dodging your next swing. “The male erection is caused by blood flow expansion. I was asking because I was curious if his heart was actually pumping blood to his extremities– put down your weapon!” He pleaded, running over to hide behind Jungkook for protection.
You dropped the pillow back down onto the bed with a huff, running through your hands through your hair in an effort to calm your nerves. This was just too bizarre to wrap your head around.
“So what? Why Jungkook? What makes him different from every other zombie?”
Namjoon shrugged, “I mean, every individual’s genetic code is unique. Maybe there’s something in his genetic composition that caused him to react differently to the Immortous drug.”
“What if Jungkook isn’t the only one?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you really think Jungkook is the only zombie who isn’t eating some flesh eating monster? Isn’t it possible that there are more like him?” You pressed.
“Hm. The mass hysteria during the Great Outbreak certainly makes it seem like they all were flesh hungry but… yeah, statistically speaking, it's more likely that there is a small population of functioning zombies rather than him being the sole exception.” He nodded affirmatively.
“So then… where does the government fit into this? The DEAD Team… do they know? How do they know which are the scary zombies and which are like Jungkook?”
“No clue. Any chance you know a member of the DEAD Team we can ask?” Your best friend joked, rubbing at his eyes sleepily.
At his words, you a thought enter your head, pulling the corners of your mouth downward.
“No… but I know someone who might just know something.” You sighed, a sinking feeling falling over you, torn between the need to know and the fear of finding out.
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
The rapping of your knuckles of the door rang out throughout the house.
You were sure he was home – his car parked out on the driveway, but you still couldn’t shake your nerves that he might not come to the door, leaving you, Namjoon, and most importantly, Jungkook out and in the open like this.
There were plenty of joggers out and roaming around your parents’ neighborhood, especially around lunch time. You had wanted to get here earlier but unfortunately, once Namjoon had fallen back to sleep, he had become an immovable brick, the effects of a disrupted sleep schedule taking its toll.
So the three of you had made your way out and over in broad daylight; poor Jungkook must be sweating buckets under the hoodie he had propped over his head, the sun sparing no expense today.
You nearly sighed in relief at the sound of the door’s deadlocks unbolting. You counted along to the sound of each lock turning.
The door swung open with a groan, the bewildered face of your father greeting you.
“Can we come in?” Your words came out rushed, earning a raised brow from your father.
“Good morning to you too.” He grumbled, taking the three of you momentarily before moving aside. “Yeah come in.”
The sight of everyone rushing sent him further into confusion.
“What’s with the surprise visit? Not that you aren’t welcomed but you do usually give a heads up.” He pointed out, offering Namjoon a smile. “Good to see you, bud.” Your father and Namjoon had always gotten along swimmingly.
“Where’s mom and Junny?” You ignored his question, eyes rolling over the living and kitchen area.
“Junny’s got a fever. Your mom just went to check on him and hopefully convince him to take some medicine.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle. Your brother Junseo always had an adamant refusal when it came to swallowing pills. Getting him to take anything would certainly be no small feat.
Your amusement died quickly, stomach twisting anxiously as your father’s eyes flickered over to a still hooded Jungkook, a worried expression on his face.
“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.” Your father greeted politely, eyes fixated on the stranger, something unreadable in his eyes.
Jungkook’s eyes flickered to you uncertainly, feeling quite anxious himself. You nodded at the zombie, and with your reassurance, he brought two pale hands up to grip at the edge of his hood, before throwing back and off his head.
You watched as your father’s face fell, his mouth falling ajar in shock.
“You’re–”
“Before you freak out,” you were quick to interrupt in, stepping between the two in case your father made a move. “He won’t hurt you. He doesn’t eat flesh. He’s lived with us for the past month. He has a pulse, dad. Not all zombies are monsters. We came here to ask you what you know about zombies like him. You fought during the Great Outbreak. Surely you must know something. They’re not all the same are they?”
You took a breath, slightly winded from quickly rambling. You knew your father was armed so the quicker he had all the facts, the less chance there was for him to come to conclusions.
The three of you watched as he backed up slowly, mouth falling and closing as if at a loss for words.
“Dad, he eats candy bars and human food.” You promised as he reached the back of the couch, taking a seat on its frame in case his legs gave way.
“He won’t hurt you, I promise.” You tried again when he failed to respond. It was then that Jungkook decided to speak up.
“Sir, she’s right–” He halted, however, at the sight of your father holding a hand up, as if to beg him to stop.
“I…” your father let out a shaky breath, hand coming up to rub at the back of his head. “I know.”
Silence fell over the room; neither of you or your roommates knowing what your father’s next words would be.
He let out a sigh, eyes falling.
“I prayed this day would never come. This should have never happened. I just wanted to keep you safe.”
You were at his side in an instant, “I am safe. Dad, he doesn’t eat flesh.”
“I know he doesn’t. None of them do.”
His words fell onto the room like a bomb, covering you head to toe in blinding debris.
“What?” You breathed. “What are you talking about?”
“Zombies don’t eat flesh. They never have.” His voice was monotonous but still sad all the same.
“I don’t...”
He pressed his lips together, “It’s a lie. All of it.”
“But… we’ve always been told– I mean there are government official documents of zombie attacks that are available to the public.” Namjoon stepped in, head shaking as he tried to make sense of what your father was saying.
“And they’re all fabricated. There is a reason why we are taught to run from a zombie and not just take care of it yourself. That the DEAD Team is the only one equipped enough to handle them. The government can’t risk anyone finding out the truth… they want us to think they’re dangerous.”
Suddenly, the story of the zombie girl and her family came to mind. Holy shit. The government really did kill them...
“Why?” Your voice found volume, a need to understand overtaking you. “Why are they doing this?”
Your father took a moment to contemplate his words, letting out a breath.
“Control. Those in power woke up one day to millions of undead, unresponsive humans and no way to control them. So they decide to get rid of them. All the world leaders went and spread false information that these revived people weren’t human… but some sort of flesh hungry monster who were contagious and dangerous. All the fear… all the hysteria of the Great Outbreak… it’s all manufactured. It was the only way to get away with killing all these people who had family and friends who cared about them. It’s easy for us to turn a blind eye when you think something’s trying to hurt you. We’re all just playing pieces in their game. I heard some of the higher-ups say it’s to prevent disease. Some say it’s population control. But it all comes down to power. They can’t have power over what they don’t understand.”
“How do you know this? You went and fought and… you knew this?” You uttered in disbelief, disgust seeping through your tone.
He shook his head, “I didn’t at the start. I would never have volunteered to fight if I had thought all these people weren’t trying to hurt us. Every zombie found is brought into the termination facility but not to be killed immediately. They’re studied in-depth before they finally executed them. It was just a matter of me wandering into the wrong room and reading some reports that I wasn’t supposed to.”
There was something guilty in his eyes that you couldn’t ignore, angry boiling up in you.
“You stayed.” You realized with a sharp tone. “You didn’t leave after you found out. All those people… you knew…”
“I had no choice–”
“Yes, you did!” Tears pricking at your eyes as you looked at the man that you once looked up to the most. “You could have walked away! You could’ve said no!”
“Don’t you think I wanted to?!” Your father shouted, causing you to flinch. Taking in your reaction, he took a breath, composing himself. “The second I realized what was actually happening, I felt sick to my stomach.”
“But I knew too much. And they found out just how much I knew. I had seen what happens to those that asked too many questions. And how easily the government covered it all up. I was young and scared… but I had a family to protect. You’re right. I had a choice. And I made mine… and will carry that weight with me until the day I die.”
You turned away from him, tears falling freely, suddenly overwhelmed.
“I never meant to hide the truth from you. I just wanted to protect you from what knowing the truth could do to you.” He urged you to understand, his eyes, for once, completely transparent.
“Y/N…” Jungkook attempted to reach out for you, but you turned back before he good, new-found composure falling over you. You still had questions.
“For how long? How long are they kept there?” You pressed, licking at your tears stained lips. Your father pondered your question for a moment.
“I remember seeing some people kept in containment for… two months, maybe three? They would run experiments on them, collect whatever information they needed before they finally terminated them.” He thought aloud.
You thought back to a month ago when you first met Jungkook, alone and hiding in a desolate building that his friends had just been taken from. They were probably still in the containment facility, being prodded and tortured by those monsters you were meant to believe been protecting you all this time. It was only a matter of time before they’d be discarded, a bullet through their head once the government had no use for them. Fury bubbled in your chest at the thought.
A loud shrill ran through the house suddenly, causing everyone to jump.
“What’s that?” Jungkook’s eyes went wide.
“It’s a reminder for families to stay inside. It’s the DEAD Team alarm. It goes off whenever they work within the area. Every house has one.” Namjoon responded automatically, only registering what that meant once he had stopped talking.
“Fuck.” He breathed.
“They’re not here for us, are they?” Jungkook frowned.
“N-No. There’s no way. I, uh… Yeah, I used an untraceable virtual private network, there’s no way I set off an alarm in their monitoring system. Besides, you never left the apartment.” Namjoon rambled nervously, nodding to himself.
“Oh, crap.” You gasped suddenly.
“Oh, crap? Why oh crap? Y/N, what did you do?” Your best friend urged, voice growing higher pitched. You hardly notice your father stand up and push past you three, making his way over to the kitchen window.
“I… Jungkook and I went out on the roof, and we were talking loudly… If someone overheard us… but there’s no way… I mean, it was so late at night, right? Right?”
“Oh god, we’re dead. We’re so dead.” Namjoon shrieked, hands coming up to clutch his head.
“You guys have to go.” Your father announced suddenly.
“What?”
He began to lock the front door, “They’re parking on this street. They’re heading this way.”
“I don’t wanna die!” Namjoon panicked.
“Everyone, listen to me.” Your father’s voice was authoritative and steady, grabbing everyone’s attention immediately. “There’s a briefcase behind the bookshelf by the laundry room. Grab it and sneak out through the back door. Run. Don’t stop and turn back for any reason.”
“Dad, hold on–” A banging on the front door sent everyone the room silent, the dread in the air almost palpable.
“Go!” He mouthed silently, and before you knew it, Namjoon had seized your wrist and ushered you towards the back of the house.
You met your father’s eyes over your shoulder for one final glance, for the first time knowing exactly what they had been hiding.
You could hear your mother yell out for your father in confusion, the sound of the second knock echoing through the house as Jungkook pulled out the metallic briefcase from exactly where your father had described, your mind buzzing and vision growing blurry as you heard your father call out towards the front door that he was coming.
“Let’s go.” Namjoon mouthed, hand turning open your family home’s back door as quietly as possible, Jungkook and you slipping out with him following closely behind.
There was a strange feeling that accompanied you as you began to run through the backyard you had once grown up in. What once had felt like the most carefree, safest place in the world now felt like a minefield, every second you spent sprinting through it was a second with a target on your back, exposed and visible, anyone in the house able to see the three fleeing renegades if they were to just glance out the back window.
Namjoon’s sprinting body met the fenced gate with a careless clash, cursing angrily as his uselessly shaky hands attempted to undo the latch that separated them from the thick of trees just behind the house.
“Open the fucking gate!” You hissed, every inch of your body on edge.
“I’m fucking trying!” He shrieked, louder than he should have, only freaking you out more. You had just opened your mouth to shout back for him to lower his voice when a sound stopped you cold in your tracks.
Bang!
Your mouth fell shut, the gunshot ringing in your ears as suddenly everything began to move impossibly slow. It was as everything around you had gone into slow motion, your blinking slowing down as you watched as Namjoon started to bark out words, yet no noise came out of them.
Bang!
Bang!
Your ears were ringing; you couldn’t hear what was being said to you. Your legs felt so heavy that even as Namjoon yanked the gate open, you couldn’t move. You didn’t even feel as Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist and ushered you through the gate and into the thick of the trees that bordered the neighborhood.
Trees flew past your vision, disorienting you mercilessly. Nothing made sense.
As the three escapes ran, no one said a word. No one spoke of how there were three shots. Three people in the house. How, within a matter of seconds, a family had been massacred — your family.
No one knew how long they had been running before they finally came to a stop, lungs burning, and bodies hunched over as they fought for breath, legs still trembling to keep them going forward.
Yet you stood there confused. Your surroundings wouldn’t stop spinning. You could hardly see. You were so confused. You thought for a moment that this disorder would never end.
But it did: The trees stopping spinning, your vision restored, and suddenly, everything was crystal clear.
You fell to your knees, a heart-wrenching sob falling with you.
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
The sound of nylon material being pushed aside stole Namjoon away from his thoughts, the crackle of the fire harmonizing with Jungkook’s footsteps as he made his way out from the tent and over to the fire pit where the scientist sat in mute contemplation.
Namjoon let out a sigh as the emerging man took a seat beside him, a brief moment of silence passing between them.
“How is she?” Namjoon finally spoke up.
Jungkook thought back to the girl he had left back in the tent, the way she hadn’t spoken a single word since that day.
He knew what it felt like to lose the ones you loved most. He knew your pain. So he didn’t push you. He never pushed or tried to convince you that they might not be dead after all because he knew as well as you did that they were gone.
Namjoon had tried on several occasions to open up that conversation, insisting that not talking about it was not healthy – that you needed to let what you were feeling. But how could you? How could you put into words the inconsolable state of desolation that was your heart? How there was no way to speak the feelings that came with knowing your entire family was dead.
You hardly ever left the tent, not even for food, which Namjoon had driven out to buy the first night of your stakeout.
There was a campground an hour and a half from where the town you all lived in; Namjoon had suggested that it might be the best place to lay low until you all figured out the next plan on action. Thankfully, the scientist had an old tent still sitting in his car’s trunk, left over from his college years when he and his classmates would camp out overnight for field research.
Namjoon was quite the outdoorsman, Jungkook came to realize, pleasantly surprised at how easily he had set up camp and started the fire. The two boys would usually eat beside the crackling flames alone, Jungkook bringing a plate of food back into the tent for you once they were done. Thankfully, the once zombified boy had convinced you to eat somehow, for which your best friend was grateful.
It was clear that you and Jungkook had some sort of bond. At first, he thought it didn’t extend further than the apparent sexual attraction you each held towards each other. Still, as Namjoon slipped into the tent one night, fire freshly put out and a yawn on his lips, and found the two of you fast asleep and curled into one another, he realized the true nature of his roommates’ relationship.
So he let Jungkook have his time with you, confident that he could comfort you in a way Namjoon could not. As much as he wanted to, he simply didn’t know how. Your family meant a lot to him, too, having treated him as their extended son ever since you and Namjoon were little. His own parents were always far too busy to spend time with him anyway. He mourned alongside you.
“Same as yesterday.” Jungkook responded after a beat.
“Still not talking, huh?”
Jungkook picked up a stick that was lying beside his foot, digging an end of it into the dirt.
“It never gets any easier.” He shrugged.
“Hm?”
“Losing someone you love. The pain never goes away; you just learn to deal with it over time.”
Namjoon let his stare drift from the firewood onto the solemn boy beside him, for once noting the way his eyebrows furrowed when the air around him grew silent.
“I’m sorry about those friends of yours they captured. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through and how scared you must have been to be left all alone.” He frowned, watching as Jungkook’s gaze hardened, emotion washing over his dark eyes.
“I’ll never forget everything they did for me.” He said, more to himself than Namjoon.
“Do you remember your family? I mean, do you remember anything from your life before you turned?” Namjoon wondered cautiously. Jungkook nodded.
“It’s usually in small flashes – the image of someone’s smile or a room. Things I almost remember. Sometimes when the apartment is empty, I think I hear the sound of someone humming a lullaby.”
“Woah, what? Is our apartment haunted?!”
Jungkook chuckled at the taller man’s suddenly concerned expression. He shook his head. “Not a ghost. Just a ghost of a memory.”
The sound of someone slipping from the tent behind them quickly ended the conversation, your eyes flashing to the floor as two sets of eyes locked onto your approaching form. You took a seat beside Jungkook wordlessly, hands intertwining in front of you as you let the heat from the fire warm your numb fingers. It was always so cold this time of night.
Your sudden presence left the boys silent beside you, exchanging looks as they attempted to make sense of your unanticipated appearance. You offered no explanation, however, staring down at your digits blankly.
Namjoon was the first to speak, “Anyone hungry? Why don’t we get started on dinner–”
“I need the chart.”
The two boys nearly jumped at the sound of your voice, hoarse and wobbly as if struggling to find it’s footing, undoubtedly from having gone unused for so long.
“What?” Your best friend asked.
“The project Z chart.” You clarified with a steadier voice, eyes flickering to meet his. “Where is it?”
Namjoon glanced over at Jungkook momentarily, who had his eyes fixated on you unwaveringly. For a moment, he thought back to his first entry in the chart, back when Jungkook was a pulseless, unresponsive zombie. Looking at him now, it indeed was something to see just how much he had changed.
“I don’t have it with me. It’s back in the apartment.”
“Shit.” You frowned. “We can’t go back. They could be waiting for us.”
“Well, I mean, I have a copy of it on my laptop. It’s in my backpack.” He offered, pointing over his shoulder back to the tent. Your eyes widen, for the first time in a long time, lighting up with hope.
“All of it? The information about the zombie girl and her family too?”
“Yeah. I scanned all my research into a file… Why?” He inquired.
You let out a breath, turning back to the fire. From his spot beside you, Jungkook could see the way the flames’ light illuminated the cloud of your breath, disappearing into the night’s sky.
“I’m sending it to Seokjin. All of it.” You said firmly.
“Seokjin... your boss?” Jungkook pressed with a furrowed brow. You sent him a quick nod before readjusting your attention back over to your roommates.
“Joon, give me your laptop, I need to write all the information out, so it’s easier to understand.”
“Wha– Wait, Y/N, slow down. Why are you talking about?” Namjoon shook his head, needing further clarity.
“I’m done sitting around and doing nothing. They can’t get away with all of this. They can’t just kill–” Your voice faltered suddenly, eyes watering as you swallowed down your emotions.
You were done crying. For the past three days, you had spent every second of your solitude thinking over and over just how you could put a stop to this misrule and injustice. The society you lived in had been built on a gilded foundation; its history riddled with lies that you knew, from the day your family died, you’d spent the rest of your life tearing them down.
“So… What are you saying right now?” Namjoon spoke, tone hesitant and unsure.
You pulled yourself from your thoughts, forcing yourself to sit up straighter, disdain written all over your face.
“I’m saying we take them down from the inside out. Seokjin is the head of our publishing company… If anyone can make sure this ends up on the front page of every news outlet in town, it’s him. He lost his brother to the Outbreak. He can publish it anonymously. He’ll help us. I know he will.”
You spoke with fervor, stance unwavering.
“The people deserve to know that their loved ones are still alive. That they didn’t wake up dead, but still reviving. Jungkook… Shelby… we have proof that with time and social interaction, they all would have become human again. Our government killed them before they got the chance.”
Namjoon let out a breath, panic rising in his throat, “And what then? Y/N, if you publish this information, chaos and riots will break out. It’ll be total anarchy. Not to mention, it’ll only be a matter of time before the government catches wind that you are behind the article. I-I mean, there’s no going back from this! You’ll be labeled a traitor, o-or a domestic terrorist! They’ll kill you!”
“I know.” You breathed out, eyes shutting for a moment. ‘There’s no guarantee I’ll come out of this alive. But at least there’s a chance that the people behind all this bloodshed could be overthrown.”
You opened your eyes, a tear rolling down your cheek. “You don’t have to do this. I’m not asking you to risk your life for me. Not anymore. You guys can take the car and keep going. But I’m done hiding out. I’m doing this, alone or not.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Jungkook spoke up finally, making his decision as he reached over and placed a hand over yours, dark eyes boring into your teary ones. You gave him a small but grateful smile, another tear escaping you.
And suddenly, both Jungkook and Y/N’s eyes were on Namjoon, as if waiting for his decision. His roommates were painted in moving waves of red and orange, the fire’s light cast illuminating your determination. He felt his shoulders fall as he took in the way your familiar eyes looked all the more piercing in this light.
“Fuck. Fuck, okay.” He cursed, hands coming up to run through his hair. “I’m in. Goddammit, I’m in.”
A small sob escaped you, your palm coming up over your mouth to mute it as your head fell forward, a mixture of solace and grief washing over you. Despite your words, and certainty, you were petrified. You were terrified at the idea of either boy leaving you to martyr yourself. You were so scared and had been the moment you had fled the scene of your family’s murder. But no amount of fear could sway your heart on its stance.
You just hoped you weren’t killing the last two people you loved.
“Okay.” You wiped away your tears with the back of your hand, hurriedly, taking a breath. “Okay, go get your laptop, please.”
Namjoon nodded, hopping up on his feet to head over towards the tent.
“Y/N.” Was Jungkook’s soft coo the second you two were alone, hand coming up to cup your cheek.
“You don’t have to do this.” Your words came out a whisper, a soft plea hidden behind your lips.
“You don’t either.” He reminded.
“They killed my family.” You looked back at him with sorrowful eyes. “And they’ll keep killing other innocent people if we don’t stop them. I can’t just do nothing.”
Jungkook smiled at you gently, “And I can’t leave you. You didn’t give up on me, remember? I would never be where I am now without you. You have me, Y/N. All of me. I’m not leaving you behind.”
Your lips found his in an instant, arms wrapping around his warm body on this cold night as if it could be the last time you held him like this.
“Ahem.”
Namjoon’s cough broke the heartfelt exchange short, Jungkook’s cheeks pink as you pulled away from him with a sheepish look.
“Sorry to interrupt.” The scientist mused, handing over the sleek black computer to you. You cleared your throat, prying open the device.
“Get your things ready to leave once I’m done.” You declared as you opened up a new writing document, mind already running over what you were going to say.
“Where are we going? Once we release this information, they’ll be looking for us no matter where we go.” Namjoon reminded you, seating himself back beside Jungkook.
You paused for a moment, the blank white document staring back at you as if curious as well. You let your brows fall, mind wandering as your eyes fell onto the dark-haired boy beside you.
“They were my brothers. I’d give anything to have them with me.” Jungkook admitted woefully.
“I remember seeing some people kept in containment for… two months, maybe three? They would run experiments on them, collect whatever information they needed before they finally terminated them.” Your father thought aloud.
You let out a breath, Jungkook’s head tilting at you curiously.
“Then we go to them.”
Namjoon’s eyes went round in disbelief, “Huh?”
“To their zombie containment facility. The briefcase my dad gave us is full of weapons. Besides, they’ll be so busy trying to hold back the humans that they’ll forget all about their zombies.” You recognized.
“You really do have a death wish, huh.” He gawked.
“Y/N…” Jungkook breathed out incredulously, realization washing over him immediately. You flashed him a soft, closed-lipped smile, watching the way his eyes filled with life.
Sitting there across from you holding your stare, he looked no less human than yourself, only solidifying your resolve.
“Let’s go get your family back.” You nodded, Jungkook’s eyes wet as he nodded back at you.
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Hi friends! Yes that was the last chapter :D i don’t plan on continuing this fic. I left it open ended so that you can decided what happens next. Feel free to tell me whatever endings you chose! And please don’t ask for another chapter skjsj I’m very proud of this story and happy to see it completed <3 LOVE U ALL TO THE MOON AND BACK
#bts smut#jungkook smut#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#bts fanfics#bts scenarios#bangtan smut#namjoon smut#jimin smut#taehyunger smut#seokjin smut#yoongi smut#jeongguk x reader#jeon jeongguk#hoseok smut
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
Is it cheating to submit a fic request for the pride post you just made? I neeeed the whole thing (I'm on my laptop, but insert the big gay eyes emoji)
fjskdgjslg "big gay eyes emoji" you know what? just for you. just for you i have written this. i'll clean it up and upload to ao3 later but for now: have 2.7k of len dragging a sunburnt, tipsy, and glitter-covered barry back to his apartment, and happy pride!
Len wasn’t the type to begrudge anyone a good time, especially when the good time involved loud music, leather harnesses, and throwing water bottles at cops. Central City’s annual pride parade came as close as it got to challenging that attitude; families, fellow queers, and queens descended on the city waving more flags than the United Nations after a hurricane, all decked out in color combinations that Len hadn’t been able to keep straight since the ‘80s.
The end result was the kind of crowds that could make a grown man feel claustrophobic in the middle of a city block, and that was without the visible haze of alcohol wafting off the whole event.
But what the parade lacked in personal space, it made up for with one very important commodity: unattended wallets.
The flock of sunburnt twinks in denim cut-offs made Len’s job almost too easy—a hand on a sweat-slicked lower back, a flash of blue eyes, and most of them wouldn’t have noticed their wallets going missing if Len had dangled their IDs in front of their faces afterwards. (While there were plenty of women dressed in just as little clothing whom Len certainly wouldn’t have minded getting within robbing distance of, he’d found queer women as a group to be less enthusiastic about uninvited touching and more enthusiastic about wallet chains, even when three sheets to the wind off of canned rosé.)
He’d taught a dozen visiting suburbanites the importance of not keeping valuables in their back pockets by the time he spotted a familiar profile in the crowd.
His usual red getup wasn’t much more modest than some of the outfits Len had already seen, but even knowing the shape of that body didn’t prepare Len for seeing Barry Allen stripped to the waist, bright-eyed and flushed and shimmering all over with a fine dusting of glitter. Len noted, on auto-pilot, that it didn’t seem like he’d put any of the glitter there himself; he was standing dangerously close to a drag queen throwing handfuls of the stuff on anyone who got within arm’s reach of her. It set the sun refracting off every dip and plane of muscle across Barry’s chest and stomach. Barry’s hair, already wild and dark at the roots with sweat, was full of it.
Len’s feet were carrying him closer before he gave himself permission to move. Barry managed to drag Len into his orbit at the best of times; visibly tipsy and dripping sweat, Len would’ve had better luck resisting the turning of the earth.
Up close, Len could take that Barry had lost his shirt somewhat recently; the slight touch of pink spanning his shoulders and chest had nothing on the serious flush across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. He had a spray of new freckles as well. They were barely distinguishable under the haze of glitter stuck to his skin, but Len noticed them at once, the change unmistakable on an otherwise unchanging face (not a scar to be seen, even after three years of running into burning buildings and jumping in front of bullets; Len was equal parts frustrated and relieved).
It looked like someone had painted a few strokes of color across one of his cheeks at some point, but it was smudged to hell and back. The back of one of Barry’s hands was stained a tell-tale matching purple, and Len could only guess at what it had been at the start of the day.
He stepped into Barry’s space as easily as he had the rest, taking care to keep Barry between him and the source of the glitter, and hesitated for the briefest moment with his hand above Barry’s spine. He’d never touched Barry like this, skin to skin; the gloves had never come off between them, metaphorically or literally. Kept things neat.
Nothing about Barry was neat right now. He turned even before Len touched him, and the movement brought Len’s hand into contact with his side instead. It took everything in Len not to pull it back in a flinch, and he met Barry’s curious glance with a tightly-controlled smirk.
He’d expected Barry to step back, maybe add a bit of blush to those already-pink cheeks. Instead, Barry’s eyes took a belated second to focus, and then he gave Len a face-splitting grin.
“Snart!”
That time, Len did have to pull backwards to avoid Barry dragging him in for a hug. To think he’d been concerned about a hand.
Barry didn’t seem the least bit put out, smiling loose and easy like Len hadn’t iced him to the door of a bank vault the last time they’d seen each other. He hadn’t taken Barry for such a cheerful drunk—he seemed inclined toward melodrama on a good day—but Len would take it over any of the alternatives.
“Barry. Fancy seeing you here. And so much of you, at that.” He let his gaze slide down his bare chest and stomach, pulse ticking up at the warm brown of his nipples and the sharp vee of his hipbones that invited his gaze further down.
“You’re overdressed,” Barry disagreed. He wasn’t quite slurring, but there was a careful deliberation in his tone that told Len it was a near thing. He took a step closer and peered at Len, suspicion evident in those pale green eyes. “And… sober.”
“I’m not here to score. Perks include keeping my shirt on.”
For the briefest second, Barry looked almost disappointed. But it was gone in a blink, confusion taking over. He glanced down at himself, puzzled. Then his expression cleared, and he looked up with another easy-going smile. “I got hot.” His gaze dropped again, to Len this time, and he licked his lips. “Aren’t you… you gotta be hot in all that.”
Len was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and thin jacket, and it hadn’t hit eighty degrees all week. But he wasn’t in the mood to argue with drunk logic. And besides, another scan of the nearby revelers had made something unpleasant begin to scratch insistently at the inside of Len’s chest, and he tapped Barry under the chin with one knuckle to bring his attention back up.
The contact startled both of them—Len’s control had slipped, something he could not afford to happen around Barry Allen—but Len recovered first. “Where’s the rest of your team of do-gooders?”
“Lost ‘em.” Judging by the return of Barry’s crooked grin, it was an accomplishment, not a concern. “Cisco said the shot was too strong, but I didn’t wanna go. He’s the d…” He faltered, brows pulling together as he frowned. “S’the designed. Designinated, superhero, anyway. Shh!”
He shot a pointer finger toward Len in a movement that Len clocked, alarmingly, as intending to be pressed to his lips, as if he were the one who’d been chatting about Vibe’s secret identity. Len had three years of dealing with the Flash to thank for being able to catch Barry’s wrist in time to stop him, and he glared at him for the attempt.
But Barry only gave him a crinkle-eyed smile and twisted his hand in Len’s grip to clasp his wrist back. “S’so good to see you here. I didn’t think…”
“Don’t tell me you had me pegged for straight.”
Barry made a frankly insulting noise halfway between a scoff and a hiccup and tilted Len a condescending look.
“Speedster, remember?” he asked, far too loudly, even for a crowd currently screaming along to a pop song that’d been bad enough the first time Len’d heard it in 2000. “I see it when you...” He let go of Len’s wrist to make a gesture with two fingers, parting them in a V and sweeping them up and down Len’s body, the muscles in his forearm shifting distractingly under Len’s hand. God, the kid had to be a hundred degrees. “When you check me out. In the suit.”
Len smirked. “It’s cute you thought I was being subtle.”
“You’re cute,” Barry muttered, childish and sulky, and Len took it for the compliment it wasn’t.
“You had a point, Barry.”
Barry still looked displeased with him, but his brow was furrowed again when he met his gaze. This close, it was impossible to ignore that Barry had an inch or so on him. “About what?”
“You didn’t think…?” Len prompted him.
Barry stared at him blankly, and Len rolled his eyes and let go of his wrist.
“Get out of the sun, Barry,” he said. “Find a park bench. Wait for your little friends to come find you. Shouldn’t be hard—you’re as red as your suit.”
Barry either ignored his last comment or didn’t hear it. “Iris is here somewhere,” he said, possibly to himself. “She’s…” He twirled his finger absently beside his head. “Curly, today. And… bikini.”
Len strongly considered abandoning Barry to his sunburn to go find out for himself. But Barry was beginning to sway a bit, and a man closer to Len’s age than Barry’s was giving Barry’s toned back a speculative look from a few feet away, and Len gave in to the unsettled feeling gnawing at his ribcage. He refused to call it worry. It was annoyance—or, at the very least, the feeling was annoying him, which was close enough.
“As much a sight for sore eyes as that would be,” he said, allowing a magnanimousness he didn’t feel to color his tone, “I doubt Miss West ran away from her group and got heatstroke. Unlike some people”
Barry didn’t look the least bit chastened, lips curving up mischievously in a way that drew another couple interested looks. Len needed to get them both out of the crowd before he started breaking noses.
“Tell you what. Give Cisco a call, tell him you went home. My bike’s on Kingsbridge, away from the parade route.”
Barry’s smirk sharpened. “Trying to get me out of here, Snart? I thought you weren’t here to score.”
Len gave him a flat look, ignoring the decidedly interested way his body was reacting to Barry’s tone.
“You can barely stand.”
Barry’s eyes glittered at the challenge, and Len realized his mistake.
“Barry—”
He hadn’t even finished biting out the second syllable when the world spun out from under him, the noise and the heat and the press of the crowd swallowed up in a hair-raising charge of yellow lightning. Exactly two and a half seconds passed in a blur of movement, just long enough for Len to realize Barry was supporting the back of his head with one too-warm hand. Then the world came skidding to a stop around them. Barry’s momentum carried them both forward several feet even after their new surroundings materialized, and they very nearly went straight through a window again before Barry seemed to remember how to stop.
Len considered pushing him out the window anyway for the stunt. True, he’d been itching to get another taste of that feeling, the ozone snap-drag of Barry’s power like a live wire under his hands, but he’d rather have waited until Barry could pass a breathalizer.
He realized Barry still had an arm around him and shoved him off. It did nothing to dim Barry’s self-satisfied grin, and Len had to look away or risk giving into the interested once-over Barry was skimming over his body again.
“Pretty sure the point of a designated driver is not doing that.”
Barry followed him when he took a step back. Len made a calculated decision, decided the risk of touching Barry again was worth it, and pressed his fingers to the middle of Barry’s chest—right where the Flash insignia would be on his suit, his brain offered unhelpfully—and pushed him backwards, hard.
Barry unbalanced and wheeled back a step. Then the backs of his knees hit the edge of the couch, and he toppled, satisfyingly, back onto the dark leather cushions.
It was a nice couch. The whole apartment was nice, actually. Len could’ve drawn a perimeter of possible locations based on Barry’s speed and how long it had taken them to reach it if he hadn’t already known the address.
“Sit,” he said. And then, with a smirk: “Stay.”
Barry rolled his eyes. “Gonna have to ask nicer than that if you wanna boss me around in bed.”
The way he threw it out there, easy as anything, almost made Len miss a step as he turned away. He wasn’t going to lay a hand on Barry, not when he was drunk on sunlight and skin and whatever concoction Cisco had apparently cooked up for him. But hearing him say it, like they’d already gotten all of the messy parts out of the way—it set off warning bells in Len’s head, flashing past all the possible off-ramps he would’ve taken if Barry had ever tried to have the conversation in a more linear fashion.
“You’re drunk,” Len said, which was a coward’s answer, and behind him, Barry made a vague noise of agreement.
“Probably,” he acknowledged. “You could stick around ‘til I’m not.”
Christ. Len didn’t trust himself to look at Barry again, not when he knew he’d find him sprawled out and shedding glitter all over what had looked like a very expensive couch. “Stay,” he repeated, and went off to find the kitchen.
By the time he got back with two glasses of water, the problem had solved itself; Barry was out cold on the couch, his painting cheek pressed to the throw pillow he’d curled himself half-around. He was shivering faintly in the air conditioning, all cooled sweat and goosebumps, and Len resigned himself to the now-familiar impulse to help him that stirred in his chest. He put one of the glasses down on the table and, not trusting his hands, knocked his knee into one of Barry’s where it was bent close to the edge of the couch.
Barry buried his face into the pillow with a noise of displeasure, and Len said his name again.
“Last warning,” Len said. “Ten seconds, you find out if I put on steel-toed boots today.”
Barry groaned, and if the sound hadn’t made Len’s pulse skip, the easy shift of muscles in Barry’s arm as he pushed himself up to sitting again would’ve done the trick.
“Water,” Len said, unnecessarily, as he passed him the glass.
Barry took it with the tips of his fingers, as if it were something personally offensive to him, and took a single, polite sip before putting it down beside the other with no small amount of distaste. Then he glanced between the glasses, and up at Len, a dirty spark already lighting behind his eyes again.
“Don’t get your hopes up. They’re both for you.”
Barry let out a breath with audible annoyance and dropped back against the couch cushions to glare at him.
Len felt a modicum of sanity return to him. This, at least, was familiar ground: Barry, frustrated, asking for too much, too soon. True, it had always been about the hero business until now, but Len knew a pattern when he saw one. Give Barry an inch, and he always took a mile.
Len gave Barry one last, appraising look. He looked ridiculous, all self-righteousness and bare skin. There was only one break in the otherwise even coat of glitter, there on Barry’s side: faint, but unmistakable, the outline of Len’s hand on his waist. The feeling in Len’s chest coalesced into something pleased and possessive. He met Barry’s glare with a slow curl of his lips, then gave him an inch.
“Call me when you’re sober, Barry,” he said, letting his voice slip into the Cold drawl just to watch Barry’s eyes go dark. “And you can show me how well you sit up and beg.”
He could see the impatience radiating off of Barry’s frame, the effort it was taking him to stay on the couch instead of closing the space between them.
“Call your friends,” he reminded him. “Enough people got a look at your face today without the CCPD splashing it on every milk carton, too.”
In the elevator, Len reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the thin black wallet he’d liberated from Barry during their sprint across the city. Two and a half seconds: child’s play. A little extra incentive for Barry to track him down in the morning, not that Len thought he needed it. He flipped it open, noted the deer-in-the-headlights picture of Barry on his driver’s license with amusement, and then thumbed open the bill compartment.
Len smirked. Barry wouldn’t miss a few dollars; he owed him for the dry-cleaning it was gonna take to get the glitter out of his jacket, anyway.
#coldflash#leonard snart#barry allen#the flash#my fics#is 10 pm on a tuesday peak posting time? no! is it when i finished this? yes!#also this is blatantly nyc pride sorry#write what you know etc
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
desire.
pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x reader
genre: fluff, slight nsfw
word count: 4811
This demon is unlike any other that you’ve faced before.
“Kyoujurou, pressure the left flank and drive it towards the middle! We’ll corner it with a pincer attack!” You call out as you leap through the treetops, relying on the meagre light of the half moon to see where you’re putting your feet. Beneath you on the ground, Kyoujurou calls his affirmation, keeping tight on the demon’s tail. “Remember to keep an eye out for his Blood Demon Art!”
It’s the first time either of you have seen a Blood Demon Art like this one. Instead of the usual ability to hurt or deal damage in the most unexpected ways possible, this demon’s ability makes you deeply besotted with the first thing you lay eyes on. The spell had not been limited to animate creatures, and both you and Kyoujurou had solemnly promised to never speak of this night ever again.
After a while, however, you and Kyoujurou had gotten much better at avoiding the bright pink smoke that the demon released — although the spell was potent, it was short lived. Darting forward, you leap down from the trees as Kyoujurou thrusts forward with his blade, forcing the demon to jump out of reach and right into your path.
With a shout, you grip your sword tight and swing. “Breath of Snow, First Form, Snowflake Slash!”
The demon, unable to dodge your attack, screams as your blade cuts through his neck as easily as slicing running water. In that moment, familiar fuchsia clouds erupt from his body, enveloping you in them completely. You gasp in surprise, throwing your hand over your mouth, and leap away urgently to avoid breathing it in, but you’re a little too late. A few meters away, you can hear Kyoujurou calling for you, panicked.
You stumble towards his voice and out of the dissipating smoke, feeling a little lightheaded. “I’m fine.” You reassure Kyoujurou the second he dashes over to you, concern written all over his face. “I just didn’t expect the demon to make a last ditch effort like that, so I was taken by surprise. I won’t let that happen again.”
Kyoujurou waves the remainder of the pink smoke away from your face before glancing behind you. “It seems that the demon has been slain indeed!” The body has already started to disintegrate into ash. He turns back to you, carefully looking over your form for any injuries. “Are you sure that you are alright? You must have inhaled a lot of the smoke just now. Do you feel anything off?”
A little confused as well, you simply shrug. You had expected yourself to have already been trying to kiss the life out of a rock on the ground, or perhaps be in a passionate embrace with a tree. “Maybe it’s because I’ve already slayed the demon that its spell has no effect? I’m just a little hot and sweaty from the battle and I really want a shower...” You clap Kyoujurou on the shoulder lightly with a reassuring smile before sheathing your sword. “Come on, our work here is done. Let’s head back to the town for the night.”
He nods, but then fixes his gaze sternly on you. “If you feel anything strange, tell me immediately!” His golden eyes are filled with worry for you, and warmth blossoms in your chest in response. “Understood?”
You hum in agreement. “Of course.”
As if the two of you had already used up all the luck you had on defeating that demon, the first inn both of you had come across only had one available room. Too exhausted from the fight earlier to search for another inn, you haul Kyoujurou with you to your designated room, good naturedly ignoring the man’s protests that you should get the room.
“You can sleep over there, and I’ll sleep over here.” You tell the Flame Pillar after pushing him into the room with you. He stands rigidly in the doorway, still hesitant, and you laugh at the conflicted expression on his face. “Come on, Kyoujurou. It’s the middle of the night and the two of us need to set off early tomorrow morning, so we should get as much rest as possible.”
“Yes, but it is not proper for me to sleep in the same room as you!” Kyoujurou tries to protest, looking at you helplessly. “I could sleep outside while you take the room, and-” You put one hand over his mouth, cutting off his words.
“As if I’d allow you to sleep outside when we have two perfectly good futons in the room.” You scold as he looks down at you seriously, golden eyes bright even in the dim light of the room. “Really, Kyoujurou, you’re so sweet and honorable that it’s a little annoying. You’re a man of principle and a precious friend. I’d trust my life with you, Kyo.”
You feel Kyoujurou swallow under your palm at the weight of your words before he reaches up to pull your hand away from his mouth. His gaze doesn’t leave yours. “Then I will not break the trust you have in me.” He says earnestly, squeezing your hand. Satisfied with his acceptance, you smile at him and hold out your hand playfully. “So, janken to decide who gets to shower first?”
Kyoujurou pulls a rock, while you put out a paper. You suspect he lost on purpose, but he admits nothing with that unflappable smile of his, shooing you to head to the baths first while he lays out the futons for both of you.
As you gather the robes the inn has provided you, you fan yourself with one hand, staring out of the window in confusion.
Why is tonight so unbearably warm?
>>>
Kyoujurou is stirred awake in the middle of the night.
“Kyoujurou...” The voice calling out to him is familiar and yet not, so desperate it almost sounds like a whimper. He briefly wonders if it’s a dream, because the owner of this voice would never speak to him in this manner. His arm is shaken again, more insistent. “Kyoujurou, please wake up, I need your help.”
The second time his name is called, it’s undeniable: it’s your voice.
And you need him to be awake right now.
He’s reaching for the sword lying next to his bedding before his eyes even fully open, sitting upright and searching for you. “What happened?” He asks urgently, turning to look at you... and the sight that he’s greeted with has his heart seizing up in his chest.
You’re curled up in a ball next to his bed, shivering uncontrollably, soft pants leaving your mouth. Panic floods through him at the state you’re in, and in an instant he’s by your side, dropping his sword onto the bedding. “What’s wrong?” He brushes your hair from your face as gently as he can, and is shocked to feel your forehead damp with cold sweat. A cold? A fever, perhaps? It must have been serious enough that you couldn’t make it over to his bed on your own two feet. “Are you feeling unwell? What do you need?”
A little whimper leaves you, and the sound tugs at his heartstrings. Heart pounding in his chest, Kyoujurou quickly moves to slip his arms under your body to lift you onto his bedding, before he rushes to pull on his haori. It’s clearly an emergency. “Just wait here,” he says urgently, “I’ll find a doctor and get back to you immediately-”
His eyes finally adjust completely to the dark, and whatever words he’d been about to say die in his throat, replaced by a choked intake of breath.
Your fingers are buried under the hem of your sleeping robes, your hips rocking against your palm as a stream of needy whines escape you. It’s his name, Kyoujurou realises, mind blank as he stares at the wanton expression on your face, unable to look away. You’re touching yourself as you moan his name.
“T-the demon’s... ability!” You manage to get out, between tiny, hiccupping moans and a pained whimper that sends the blood right to his groin. “I woke up and I felt like my body was burning... I tried everything I could do to get off, but nothing works!”
Kyoujurou swallows the small lake in his mouth before he forces himself to move, dropping to his knees next and averting his gaze to look away from the sinful noises your hands are making. There are tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, and he tries to ignore the heat pooling in his own belly. Focus. He chides himself sharply. You’re suffering the effects of that demon’s spell, and he’s the only one who can help you. Focus!
“What do you need me to do?” He tries to keep his voice steady even as you let out a little cry of desperation, clearly unable to find the satisfaction you need even as you grind against your own hand. “Some water? A doctor?”
“No, I need you to touch me, Kyoujurou,” you force yourself onto your hands and knees, and in the next second Kyoujurou finds you in his lap, your mouth on his neck, sucking and biting frantically. A sharp groan escapes him when your teeth tug at the skin of his collarbone, his hands coming up on instinct to steady you as you squirm in his lap. He can feel you soaking through the cloth of his robes. “Kyoujurou, please, touch me, kiss me, anything...”
“Wait-” He tries to say, but then your mouth is on his, hot and wet and his mind goes blank. All he knows is the intoxicating scent of you that surrounds him, more potent than the demon’s spell, and the heat of your mouth as your tongue slips into his mouth, stroking his and begging him to play along. A shudder runs through his entire body. “Wait, you cannot-”
“I’m begging you, Kyoujurou, I need you!” A frustrated sob leaves your mouth and you grind yourself against the firmness of his thigh, your entire body shaking like a leaf above him in want. He’s painfully hard and you’re utterly relentless, not giving him a single moment to breathe. “Please, I’ll do anything, just touch me!”
His breath lodges in his throat. “I-”
Clearly too impatient to wait for him to actually do something, you push him down so that he’s sprawled over the bedding before your mouth drags down the exposed skin of his chest, your fingers slipping down to his groin and squeezing. A trembling moan escapes him as pleasure flares through him like a red hot flame, burning and licking at every nerve ending in his body. He can’t find it in him to push you away.
Instead of you, Kyoujurou feels like it was he who was struck by the demon’s spell.
“Kyo...” You beg, pressing kisses all over his cheeks and forehead, and his heart stutters alarmingly at the intimate nickname that only you call him by. “Take me, please. That’s all I need. I need you in me.”
“Please, you need to stop-” He tries to focus, but then you’re rocking against him and he lets out a choked moan of your name as he trembles beneath you, trying to keep his hips from bucking up into yours with sheer self will. His breath falters into short, heaving pants, head spinning, and he’s losing himself, pulled closer and closer to the edge. No, no, no-
I’d trust my life with you, Kyo.
Your words from earlier hit him like a punch in the gut, ice in his veins. He’s never felt so ashamed of himself.
Right. You trust him. You trust him with your life. And he’d promised never to break it, not now, not ever.
You pull his fingers into the wet heat of your mouth, sucking desperately on them and Kyoujurou nearly whimpers at the feeling. Why did it have to be you? He wonders, heart pounding in his chest. Anyone but you, he would have easily been able to push away. It was you, only you-
You bite down on the pad on his finger, and Kyoujurou snaps.
In the blink of an eye, he’s the one of top, one of his hands pinning yours above your head. You’re taken by surprise, looking up at him with wide eyes filled to the brim with desire, your chest heaving beneath him. “Yes, Kyoujurou.” You pant, legs winding around his hips to draw him closer to you. “Come on, just take me already-”
“This isn’t what you want.” Kyoujurou breathes, more to himself than to you. You whine beneath him in protest, but he forces himself to turn his ears from your breathless pleas. “I won’t allow myself to do anything to you when you’re in this state of mind.”
He reaches for the belt lying on top of his uniform, looping them once around your wrists and tying them tight. Realising what he’s going to do, you panic and begin to thrash about in his grasp, sobbing his name desperately.
“The demon’s spell should wear off in a while.” Kyoujurou murmurs, wrapping you so tightly in his bedding that you can’t move an inch. The cry of distress leaves you pierces Kyoujurou all the way to his heart.
He leans over, brushing the hair from your eyes with a shaking hand. “I’m sorry, darling.” Letting himself be weak in one regard, he bends down to drop a gentle kiss on your sweat soaked brow. “But the one I don’t trust around you is myself.”
With that, he grabs his sword and flees the room, never turning back.
>>>
If there is a hole, you want to bury yourself in it and never see the light ever again.
The lust induced haze that had clouded your mind the night before had lasted throughout the night, only dissipating in the face of the sun’s morning rays to leave you utterly mortified at what you’d done. Briefly, you wish that the spell hadn’t worn off so that you wouldn’t have to feel this embarrassment.
Kyoujurou had entered the room only after the sun had risen, his usual confident gaze averted as he undid your trappings, both of you too awkward to look at each other in the eyes. As he frees you, you can see the dark shadows under his eyes - had he been awake the entire night?
Kyoujurou had, in fact, been awake the entire night, ears plugged with scraps of fabric as he kept watch outside your room in case any stranger got too close to your room.
“Are you...” Kyoujurou begins hesitantly as he wipes your face with a damp towel. “Are you... alright?”
You nod without a word, eyes firmly fixed on your toes, unable to look at your friend. How do you apologise? How do you say sorry for making things so awkward? You had practically tried to force yourself on him last night, and gods bless him, he had resisted you as if you were the Muzan himself trying to corrupt him, which wasn’t too far from the truth.
“That’s... relieving to hear.” You can hear the strain in Kyoujurou’s voice, and then he’s rising to his feet, moving quickly towards the door. He’s already dressed in his uniform and haori, his sword hanging from his hip. “When you feel well enough to move, you can head to the tavern below for breakfast. I’ve asked the innkeeper to make you porridge that’s nourishing and easy on the stomach. You should take it easy today since you’ve had a rough night yesterday. I’ll be going first.”
Panic floods through you; you haven’t apologised yet, and that strange air is still hanging between the two of you like a thick smog. You hate it. “Kyoujurou, wait-” You try to say, but before you can continue your sentence, he’s already gone.
Feeling utterly rejected, you sit there on the bedding, fingers twisting into the sheets anxiously.
He doesn’t hate you, does he?
The next time the two of you do meet, it’s at the semi-annual Pillar meeting.
About a month has passed since the ‘incident’, and while you would usually use this time as a opportunity to catch up with Kyoujurou, excitedly chatting with him about all the things that you’ve done over the past months, this meeting is different.
Kyoujurou won’t even meet your eyes.
You spent the entire meeting lost in your thoughts, not unlike Muichirou but perhaps several times more anxious. Even Sanemi pointed out your inattentiveness with a scowl and you tossed a rock at him, leading to both of you snapping at each other like squabbling kittens until Oyakata-sama had raised a finger to his lips to shut the two of you up.
After the meeting, the rest of the Pillars had dispersed to their own business, and you’d desperately tried to search for Kyoujurou. The Flame Pillar was naturally loud and quite difficult to miss with his bright hair, so the only reason to as why you couldn’t find him would be that he was avoiding you.
You felt your heart sink, anxiety twisting in the pit of your stomach.
Maybe he really hates you? Does he not want to be your friend any more?
The thought frightens you more than the prospect of fighting an Upper Moon. Forcing yourself to think, you rush to the Rengoku Estate as quickly as possible, searching for your friend.
The moment you reach the Estate, Senjurou sees you at the gates and his eyes immediately light up like miniature twin suns. “You’re here!” He calls delightedly, dropping his broom and rushing over to tackle you in a hug. “Older Brother came home earlier without you, so I was wondering where you were! You still haven’t taught me how to make sweet potato wedges for Brother to eat!”
You smile at Senjurou, patting his hair down gently. “No rush.” You try to say as calmly as possible even as your heart races. He’s here. “Before that, could you tell me where your brother is first? I need to talk to him about something.”
Senjurou might not have any talent as a Demon Slayer, but he is extraordinarily perceptive when it comes to emotions. His eyes widen in worry. “Did you and Brother have a fight? Is that why he came home without you today?”
You swallow.
“No, not a fight. It’s difficult to explain.” You say hesitantly as you squat in front of Senjuro, so that the two of you can talk eye to eye. “Something awkward happened between the two of us, and I’m not sure if he still wants to be friends anymore.” Senjurou looks at you in concern, before he reaches over to pat your hair, trying to comfort you.
“I’m sure Brother will want to make up with you.” Senjurou reassures you earnestly. “I mean, Brother loves you! He talks about you all the time, and he always looks so happy when he does. He’ll definitely still want to be your friend! If he doesn’t...” Senjurou’s voice trembles. “If he doesn’t, I’ll not make him roasted sweet potatoes anymore!”
A small laugh escapes you at that and you kiss the crown of Senjurou’s head lightly. “Thank you, Sen, but Kyoujurou might actually die without your roasted sweet potatoes.” Feeling a little better, you glance about the Estate. “Then, could you tell me where he is? I’ll talk to him right now.”
“He’s in his room.” Senjurou pulls you to your feet and pushes you in the direction of the residences. “Hurry! And good luck!”
Giving Senjurou a hasty wave, you leap over the rooftops to Kyoujurou’s room, landing lightly on the engawa outside, so familiar that you recognise the pattern of the woodgrain beneath your feet. Kyoujurou and you had spent so many days here at the Rengoku Estate before both of you became Pillars, training together in the summer, drinking tea in the spring, roasting sweet potatoes in a pile of leaves in autumn and making snow angels in the winter. All those memories are the foundation of your relationship with Kyoujurou, and the more you think about them, the more terrified you are that you’ll lose your best friend.
Hesitantly, you knock on the washi sliding screen.
“Kyo?” You call, fingers twisting in the hem of your haori. “Can we... can we talk?”
“Ahh, y/n, is that you?” His voice is energetic and bright as usual, but it sounds stiff; this isn’t the tone he usually adopts when he speaks to you. “I’m sorry that you had to come all the way over here, but I’m feeling rather tired today. Can we speak another time?”
His words drive a dagger straight into your heart. Does he really not want anything to do with you anymore?
Before you know it, a tear has escaped your eye, followed by another. More and more fall as you try to wipe them away desperately, trying your best to steady your voice. “O-okay.” You manage to get out, a little hiccup escaping you as you turn around to leave, but then door is suddenly flung open, and you turn around in surprise to see Kyoujurou standing there in the doorway, looking utterly panicked.
The moment he sees your wet eyes, his face goes stricken and he closes the distance between the two of you with a few quick steps, wrapping you in a familiar embrace. “Oh, no, darling, don’t cry, I-” At his words, you only cry louder, burying your face in his chest and clinging to him so tightly you’re sure you must be suffocating him. Instead of pulling you away gently, however, he presses tender, soothing kisses to the crown of your head.
“Don’t hate me.” You wail outright into his shirt. “I’m sorry for what happened, it was all my fault. I don’t want you to hate me, Kyo.”
At your words, Kyoujurou lets out a self deprecating sigh and buries his face in your hair, one hand combing through the strands in an effort to calm you down. “I couldn’t hate you.” Kyoujurou promises quietly, and you sniff in response. “Not now, not ever. I apologise for making you feel that way. Look at me.”
You hiccup, unwilling to remove your face from his chest, and shake your head.
Kyoujurou lets out a soft exhale, pulling you tighter against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat through the fabric of his uniform.
“That night, it wasn’t your fault in the least, it was the demon’s spell.” He says firmly, trying to make sure you understand. “Instead, it was my own feelings and desires that I could not control, and I was ashamed of myself. I did not know how to apologise, hence I acted like a coward. I am truly sorry.”
That was why he’d been avoiding you the entire time? Surprised, you look up at him to see his brows furrowed, lips pressed tightly together as if he’s truly ashamed of himself. You shake your head frantically.
“You didn’t touch me of your own will, Kyoujurou.” You insist, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing tight. “You didn’t break the trust I had in you. Kyoujurou... you’re a wonderful man. You just proved to me even more that you would never do anything to hurt me. You-”
“But I wanted to!” Kyoujurou spits out the words like they’re poison in his mouth, you stare up at him with wide eyes. “I wanted you to kiss me and touch me, and I wanted to do utterly despicable things to you as well! I’ve been dreaming about it for months, and I’ve loved you for longer! I wanted to let you do all those things in spite of knowing that you had put your trust in me, and I-”
His words are cut off when you press your finger to his mouth, so softly that it feels like the first snow against his lips.
Your heart seems to have stilled in your chest. “Repeat that again, Kyoujurou.” You breathe. Kyoujurou goes deathly still in your arms, and you hear him swallow. His heart pounds so hard in his chest you can feel its beat against your palm.
“I love you.” He whispers, his voice almost choked with emotion. His golden eyes are fixed on you and only you. “I love you very much, to the extent it terrifies me.”
“If I were to say that I felt the same... and asked you to kiss me now,” your lips feel unbearably dry and he lets out a small groan as your tongue darts out to wet them. “What would you do?”
“Love you back even more until there is nothing left of me to give.” Kyoujurou promises breathlessly, his hands gripping yours tight. Every word that leaves him is a vow of its own, its sincerity rivalling that of his dedication to the Demon Slayers. “And kiss you until my breath runs out.”
You take a deep breath, and take another step forward, until your body is pressed entirely against his, so close the heat of his body warms yours to the tip of your toes.
“Then make good of your promise, Kyoujurou.” You breathe. “Kiss me.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. In the next second one of his hands are at the back of your head, pulling you forward gently so that his lips can meet yours, his other hand cradling your jaw as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. You raise your own hands to bury themselves in his hair, his lips sliding along yours as you kiss, your eyelids fluttering shut.
When you part your mouth slightly to flick the tip of your tongue against his lips, Kyoujurou lets out a low groan deep in his chest before his own tongue slips into your mouth, your breaths mingling as you try to press yourself as close to him as possible. You can feel yourself growing lightheaded, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away, all you can think about is how you want more, more, everything that Kyoujurou is willing to give.
Luckily for you, however, Kyoujurou notices that you’re slowly dying from asphyxiation and pulls away so that you can gasp your breath back into your lungs, a light chuckle leaving his lips as he looks over your flushed cheeks and reddened lips.
“Beautiful.” He says, and your cheeks burn. Burying your face in his chest, Kyoujurou laughs brightly at your shyness, trying to coax you out. “Come on, let me see that face. Passion looks absolutely exquisite on you, my darling.”
You shake your head in his embrace, utterly embarrassed at his words. “How do you still look so calm?” You complain as you look up at him, and Kyoujurou chuckles. He takes one of your hands and presses it to his chest, and you can feel his heart racing under your palm. “My heart does not calm when you are near, I can promise you that.” He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “It has been this way for years.”
The sound of something dropping makes the two of you turn your heads, and you’re shocked to see Senjurou standing at the end of the engawa with his mouth hanging open, a tray of roasted sweet potatoes at his feet. He stares at the two of you, eyes clearly taking in your flushed expression and putting two and two together.
You really need a hole to bury yourself in.
“So...” Senjuro’s voice is tiny. “I assume the two of you made up?”
“Well, yes-” You squeak out, mortified at having been caught in such a scandalous position by the child who’s looked up to you as his elder sister. You subtly try to extricate yourself from Kyoujurou’s grasp, but he only grins exuberantly at Senjurou
“More than that!” He shouts gleefully, his smile so bright its almost blinding. “We feel the same!” You let out a squeak when Kyoujurou scoops you easily into his arms, his lips dropping a flurry of affection all over your face until you’re sure all the blood is in your face. “We’re together!”
Senjurou’s eyes light up and then he’s throwing himself in for a hug, Kyoujurou laughing like he’s the happiest you’ve ever heard him in your entire life. Utterly embarrassed and too happy to say a word, you only bury your face in your hands, trying to hide the flush of your cheeks.
“I won’t break the trust you have in me.” Kyoujurou vows, his lips nuzzling into your hair. “Everything I promised, and even more than that, I’ll make good on all of them.”
You smile shyly, and kiss the tip of his nose.
“I believe you.”
#rengoku#rengoku fanfic#rengoku kyojuro#kyojuro#kyoujurou#rengoku kyojuro x reader#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba fanfic#demon slayer#demon slayer fanfic
367 notes
·
View notes
Text
bathtime
read the previous part here!
The rush of running water echoed off the walls of Obi-Wan’s upstairs bathroom. He tested the temperature with a hum of satisfaction before flipping the brass lever that controlled the drain.
It was well past time that his bathtub got some use. The huge old thing had been touted as a selling point by his realtor, but he’d really selected the house for its proximity to work. He didn’t have the time or inclination to lounge about, preferring to stick to economical morning showers.
Hopefully Anakin would enjoy it.
Knowing the tub would take a few minutes to fill, Obi-Wan headed downstairs. The itch of apprehension whenever he let Anakin out of his sight was quickly becoming familiar— as was the wash of relief when he found him where he’d left him.
Approximately, anyway. He’d gotten up and was examining the sparse decorations on the fridge. At a small clear of Obi-Wan’s throat, his ears twitched and he jerked back with a guilty look.
Obi-Wan smiled gently. “Nothing interesting there, I’m afraid.”
“I wasn’t—”
“It’s fine to be curious; ask me anything you like.”
Even in the dim light, the conflict of opposing impulses was clearly visible on that expressive face. Obi-Wan had to stifle a smile.
Finally, inquisitiveness won out.
“Why do you have this?” Anakin jabbed a finger at his copy of the year’s academic calendar.
“Oh, that?” He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. “I teach there. I’m a professor of sociology.”
Anakin wrinkled his nose. “Really? Aren’t most professors, you know...”
“What?”
“Um. Old?”
This time Obi-Wan couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Indeed we are. And terribly boring, I’m sure you’ll find.”
He’d hoped to draw out a smile. If he had, it was hidden as Anakin curled in on himself, beginning to shiver again. The sight was perturbing, unacceptable.
“Will you come with me? Your bath should be nearly ready.”
Anakin ducked his head and followed.
The air in the bathroom was muggy, the mirror fogged with steam. Obi-Wan turned off the water while his guest watched, fidgeting, from the doorway.
“There we are. If it’s too hot, you can just— well, I’m sure you know.” He winced internally. He wasn’t used to stumbling over his words like this, but then again he was hardly used to overnight guests, either.
“I got it,” said Anakin, taking a few apprehensive steps towards the tub.
“I’ll be nearby if you need anything,” Obi-Wan promised. He turned to leave but paused at the threshold as a thought occurred to him. “Oh— if you leave your wet things outside the door, I’ll throw them in the laundry. You can borrow something of mine for the night.”
Anakin gave a jerky nod, still staring at the water like it might bite him.
“Remember,” he repeated, “Whatever you need.”
Obi-Wan closed the door, shutting in the heat and humidity. Right. Clothes. Pajamas would do for now. He walked purposefully to the bedroom, meaning to fetch them right away, but as soon as he entered his legs went oddly weak and shaky. His neatly made bed awaited him; Obi-Wan sat down heavily, fingers twisting in the duvet.
For the first time since Anakin had knocked on his door, he was alone. He pinched the bridge of his nose, doing his best to push back an impending headache as his thoughts raced to catalogue the implications of the night’s events.
He’d let a complete stranger into his home, his sanctuary, without even hesitating. Anakin had been far from forthcoming about his situation, but it was clear he was in some sort of trouble. Something serious, perhaps beyond what had landed him on the streets and in Obi-Wan’s backyard in the first place. He might be risking his own safety, all for a boy whose last name he didn’t even know.
Alone in the dark, Obi-Wan sat with these facts, turning them over and over in his mind. What was he doing? Was he being gullible, a fool?
A slight splashing, the sound of a body getting comfortable in a hot bath, filtered in from down the hall.
With a rising sense of certainty that he rarely experienced, Obi-Wan realized that he didn’t care. He didn’t care what kind of mess Anakin was caught up in. He didn’t care what he’d done to end up here, or what the consequences might be.
From the moment he’d laid eyes on Anakin, Obi-Wan had been seized with an inexplicable desire to protect him. To care for him. And Anakin... Anakin had asked him, begged him, for help.
To turn him away was, quite simply, an impossibility.
Obi-Wan breathed slow and deliberate, in through his nose and out through his mouth, until he felt calm again. His knees were still a little weak, but he felt much better by the time he’d managed to dig out his spare pajamas and return to the hallway.
Anakin’s clothes lay by the bathroom in a crumpled pile. As Obi-Wan bent to pick them up, he froze at a sound from the other side of the door. He almost thought it was his imagination until he heard it again, this time unmistakable— a small, hiccuping sob.
“Anakin,” He pressed his face to the doorframe. “Is something the matter?”
“‘m fine,” came the muffled response.
“Are you sure? You don’t sound fine.”
“It’s just,” he sniffled. “My hair, I can’t... it hurts.”
Obi-Wan frowned, at a loss. “What do you mean? Is there something I could do, bring you something or...”
A short pause, and then,
“Can you help me?”
“Help you?” He must be hearing things. Surely, Anakin wouldn’t want him to... “You mean, come in there and... and what?”
Anakin sniffled again. “I’m sorry, it was stupid, please just forget I asked—”
“No!” Obi-Wan interjected, far too sharply. He shook himself and tried for a softer tone. “No. It’s good that you asked. You just caught me by surprise, that’s all. Are you sure that’s what you want?”
Another pause. “...yeah, okay.”
“Alright.” This night was getting more surreal by the minute. He took a deep breath and put his hand on the doorknob. “I’m coming in now.”
Obi-Wan opened the door slowly, leaving plenty of time for a change of heart. He was determined not to look unnecessarily, but he could make out Anakin in his peripheral vision. His back was to Obi-Wan, his head hung on drawn-up knees. His tail hung over the side of the tub, slowly dripping water onto the floor. Every few seconds, he drew a ragged little breath that echoed too loudly in the tiny space.
Obi-Wan could scarcely stand it.
“What do you need me to do?”
Anakin glanced back over his shoulder with puffy eyes. “It’s all this,” he said miserably. “It’s a mess and I can’t, I can’t fix it.” He lifted a hand out of the water to run over the back of his hair. Obi-Wan’s eyes caught on the pale golden skin of his arm, the graceful line of it that bent to a broad back flushed pink with heat, the curve of his spine disappearing beyond— stop it.
He was here to help, not— whatever that was.
A few cautious steps put him within arms reach. “May I?”
“Yeah.”
A single brush of Obi-Wan’s hand made the problem clear; Anakin’s curls were snarled and matted, doubtlessly from the depridations of wind and rain. The process of detangling would be painful, perhaps downright impossible with the claws Anakin was sporting.
He tutted softly. “I see. We’ll get this sorted out.”
Obi-Wan fetched a bottle from the shower and rummaged in his grooming kit for a wide-toothed comb, grateful for a few moments where he didn’t have to rigidly control where his eyes were pointing.
“What’s that?” Anakin asked suspiciously, craning his neck to see what was going on.
“Conditioner.” Obi-Wan knelt on the bathmat and set the comb aside, again doing his very best not to look at Anakin’s shoulders. “I don’t have to use it, but it’ll ease the way quite a bit.”
“It’s fine, I’ve just—” Anakin looked down. “I’ve never really used stuff like that.”
“First time for everything,” Obi-Wan said lightly, dispensing a large dollop into his hand. “Ready?”
At a short nod, he began to apply the conditioner, starting at the crown and carefully distributing it through the messy locks. The parts that weren’t tangled were very soft, slipping pleasantly between his fingers. He wasn’t quite sure what to do about Anakin’s ears, which twitched slightly in response to each touch. It looked like Anakin had avoided them in his attempts to re-wet his own hair, so Obi-Wan tried to do the same.
After a few seconds, Anakin made a tiny oh.
“What is it?”
“It, um, smells like you.”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “You can smell me?” He wondered if that was an ability that came with Anakin’s more... unusual features.
“Yeah,” Anakin admitted, dragging a finger along the surface of the water. “It’s nice.”
“Er.”
“The conditioner, I mean.”
“Oh.” Obi-Wan cleared his throat awkwardly. “Good.”
Anakin’s hair was now covered in conditioner, as were his hands. Unwilling to dip them in the bathwater, so close to Anakin’s body, he opted to wipe them on the nearby hand towel with a grimace. Then he took up the comb, hoping for the best. It would be a shame to cut any of that beautiful hair.
As Obi-Wan gathered up the ends, his knuckles rubbed across the nape of Anakin’s neck. He felt rather than saw the damp skin erupt in gooseflesh, peach fuzz brushing softly against his fingers.
Anakin didn’t move, nor did he make a sound when Obi-Wan began to comb through the tangles. Though he was as careful as he could be, the sharp tugs required to undo the worst of them must have been painful. But Anakin made no complaint but an occasional quick intake of breath. He just stared down at the water, quietly allowing Obi-Wan to see to him.
For the second time that night, Obi-Wan felt unsteady with realization. It suddenly occurred to him how petty his concerns had been. Whatever fear he’d experienced was infinitesimal compared to how Anakin must be feeling right now, in the house of a near stranger with no way of ascertaining his intentions.
Anakin was hurt and alone. Naked and vulnerable.
And yet somehow he trusted Obi-Wan to be near him, to touch him.
He had to let Anakin know that his trust was not misplaced. That Obi-Wan would protect him, take care of him. That he was safe.
Still moving the comb in steady strokes, he searched for the right words.
“Anakin— I want you to know that, well... I’m in your corner, alright? Whatever is going on, whatever kind of trouble you’re in, you have me on your side.”
“No, you’re not,” said Anakin in a hollow voice. “You don’t know.”
Obi-Wan hummed as he finished undoing a particularly nasty snarl.
“I know you won’t give me details, but answer me this. Did you hurt someone? Beyond the bounds of self defense, I mean,” he added hastily.
“No, but—”
Obi-Wan continued, speaking over him. “And do you plan to hurt me?”
“Of course not.” The response carried just a tinge of defensive fire, making Obi-Wan smile.
“Then you have me on your side, for whatever you might need.”
Anakin flicked at the bathwater dispiritedly. “What does it matter? I’ll be gone tomorrow, anyway.”
A sudden, overwhelming surge of protectiveness made his hand involuntarily tighten in Anakin’s hair. No, he wanted to say. You’ll stay here, with me, where you’re safe.
That was something he had no right to decide or even ask. Obi-Wan mastered himself, loosening his grip and clenching his jaw until he was sure something less wildly inappropriate would come out.
“That doesn’t have to be the case,” he said tentatively, beginning to comb again. He was working on the front pieces now, nearly finished. “Not if you don’t want it to be.”
“I... I don’t understand.”
“If you wish to leave, of course I won’t stand in your way. But should you need a place to stay... it can be here. For as long as you need.”
Anakin’s ears flattened. “Don’t say that!” he snapped, then almost inaudibly added, “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” said Obi-Wan gently.
“You don’t,” Anakin whispered. He hunched forward in the tub, wrapping his arms around his knees in a tight, self-protective hold.
“I do, but there’s no need to decide yet.” Obi-Wan said lightly, setting aside the comb. “Let’s just get this all rinsed out, shall we?”
If Anakin wouldn’t stay, he could at least do his best to take care of him until he left. Obi-Wan opened the tap again, letting more warm water flow into the bathtub, and gently guided Anakin underneath. Anakin was pliant under his hands, allowing Obi-Wan to tilt his head this way and that as he rubbed gently at his scalp.
The ears presented a problem again. There was nothing for it but to carefully lift them, one by one, so he could scrub underneath. Obi-Wan thought they were by far the softest thing he’d ever felt.
His fingers moved of their own volition, stroking for a split second until the ear twitched under his touch and he remembered himself. If Anakin made a sound, it was lost beneath the roar of water.
Finally, Anakin’s hair was clean, hanging back from his face in a sopping curtain. Obi-Wan regretfully eased his head forward and let go, deprived of the excuse to touch.
What would happen now, he wondered. He could, should, dry off his hands and take his leave, show Anakin where to sleep and get some rest himself, and then...? It seemed all too clear, what he would find in the morning. An empty bed, an empty house. Anakin in the wind again, this time maybe forever.
The thought was intolerable.
Obi-Wan had to try. He dug deep to find the magic words, the perfect words that would convince Anakin to stay, and found nothing but the truth.
It went against every instinct to say it, but it was the only card he had left to play.
“About my offer,” he ventured, sitting back on his heels.
“Yeah?” Anakin mumbled into his knees.
“I wanted to let you know that, well... I would like it. If you stayed.”
“W-what?” Anakin’s head lifted and his ears twitched slightly.
“It would make me happy. I—” Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “I want you to stay.”
He pressed his lips together, leaving the words to hang without any qualifiers or equivocations, even as the seconds stretched with no response. And then, in the stillness, Anakin began to tremble.
“Anakin? What’s the matter, please tell me, I didn’t mean to upset you.” As if drawn by a magnet, Obi-Wan reached out a hand and rested it comfortingly on Anakin’s shoulder. It only shook more under his touch, and Anakin gasped in a harsh breath as silent sobs wracked his body.
“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan continued frantically, “You don’t have to stay, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want... I’m sorry.”
He knew he shouldn’t be touching Anakin, not when he’d overstepped like this, so he began to pull away— and froze, shocked, when a warm, wet hand wrapped around his own, keeping it in place. Holding it.
Without warning and far too quickly, Anakin spun to face him. A tremendous surge of water drenched the floor and Obi-Wan’s pants. But he barely noticed, not as Anakin, very wet and very naked, leaned over the side of the tub and threw his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck.
Anakin was hugging him. Obi-Wan froze in shock, but he didn’t seem to notice. He only sobbed harder, burying his face in Obi-Wan’s sweater.
Obi-Wan couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him this tightly. The sharp points of Anakin’s claws grazed his back, and a silky ear tickled his skin.
Slowly, tentatively, his arms lifted to return the embrace. He wasn’t quite sure where to put his hands, and settled for placing one on the middle of Anakin’s back, the other in his hair.
“Shh...” he found himself whispering. “Shh... there, there.” He could hear Anakin crying now, choked breaths endlessly chasing each other out of his throat. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
Obi-Wan ran his fingers through Anakin’s damp curls, over and over, scratching lightly against his scalp. He held him, with no thoughts but to comfort him, to soothe whatever pain had him so undone. Slowly, slowly, the wracking sobs subsided, leaving Anakin hiccuping and sniffling into his shoulder.
“I’ve got you,” he repeated, even as Anakin slipped out of his arms to curl in on himself once again, as floppy eared and despondent as before.
This time, though, something felt different. A lingering warmth, the ghost of a touch, that perhaps stood a chance at melting the many barriers between them.
Red-rimmed eyes flicked up to meet Obi-Wan’s, just for a moment.
“Okay,” said Anakin. “I’ll stay.”
#stray catboy au#the triumphant return!#sorry it's been so long but i think you guys will enjoy this one#obikin
134 notes
·
View notes
Note
okay so its 2am right now and I just thought of something really cute hhhh, so basically, how would kaminari, kirishima, todoroki and bakugou react to finding ship art or something of them and their crush?? I love your writing btw, it's so awesome 💕💕
super long wait, i know. half of this was written when bnha was still my hyperfixation, hence why it's one shots. the headcanons were written now, because i felt bad leaving out denki and eijirou. -cherry
katsuki bakugō:
it was just after nine in the afternoon. katsuki had already gone to sleep as per usual, though tonight he was rudely interrupted by loud knocking on his room's door.
"the hell do you want, loser?!", he shouted, still unsure of who was even at his door. everyone knew by now not to disturb him, so who dared to do so anyways?
getting out of bed and proceeding to open the door, the ash blond was slightly less angered when he saw eijirou standing there. said red head looked frantic because of something. bakugou honestly didn't even want to know what had got him so distraught, but he knew he wouldn't get his well deserved sleep otherwise,
"spit it out, shitty hair."
"we were looking at pictures from the sports festival online and we found something that you should maybe see for yourself!", eijirou started, realizing that he wasn't getting his friend's attention, so he added, "it's about you and (y/n)!"
kirishima was the only one that knew about bakugou's secret crush on you. that's why he wasn't laughing like everyone else in the common room; because what they found may cause complications.
after kirishima had mentioned your name, bakugou was swiftly jogging towards where almost all of his class was sitting gathered around a laptop, which seemed to be mina's, judging by all the leopardy and pink stickers on it.
"out of the way extras!", katsuki stomped over to see what all the fuss was about. from the corner of his eye he saw how you were cowering next to one of the couches, face covered by your hands. at first he couldn't understand why, but when he saw a particular piece of artwork displayed on the laptop screen, he figured you were just majorly embarrassed.
the art that his class found on google was from somebody's blog that was all about the 'heroes of the future!'. needless to say, the blog didn't only deal with the heroes, but also the relationships of them. ever since an encounter at the sports festival that a lot of people saw and shared around, you and bakugou had become a popular so called ship. (the girls explained that 'ship' didn't mean anything related to boats when they teased you about mentioned moment in front of him.)
katsuki couldn't help but feel embarrassed himself, but he also had to keep his cool to not seem suspicious. looking at the drawing of you and him one more time, the ash blond walked over to you, ignoring anything his class was saying.
"(y/n), you ok?", he crouched down to your level, poking your head once. his only response was a quiet hum, followed by a hiccup. worried, katsuki grabbed your hand tightly and pulled you outside the dorm.
the air was nice, not too hot, nor too cold. a light wind was blowing as the moon shone brightly.
bakugou gave you a little space and some time to calm down. when you did, he was quick to ask,
"what's the matter? did you get THAT embarrassed by it?"
you shook your head no. it was something more, but was this the right time to tell him?
"i was really embarrassed at first.", you started, "but then i thought about something and cried."
"about what?", the usually loud boy asked softly. silence was all he got for a good minute until you finally responded,
"you know how they say 'life imitates art'? i really wish it w-was like that..."
now you were the one getting silence as a response. did you really just say that?
"idiot, being all cryptic and shit.", katsuki tried to stay calm, even if he was freaking out on the inside, "if you want a kiss you can have it."
shōto todoroki:
mr. aizawa's classes had a pretty strict schedule most of the time: first the class would get an assignment, that they'd do until said teacher falls asleep. after that, everyone would quietly - in order to not wake up aizawa - do anything they want, really.
for shouto this was more or less just plainly boring, as he was one of the few students that actually did what they had to. he'd finish his work and then wait, because he had nothing else to do. he was most likely to bother midoriya, but today he was very into whatever he was writing down in his little book. so shouto settled for observing the classmates behaviour. well, rather your behaviour.
the half and half boy knew it was weird, but he liked watching you. he liked seeing you, especially when you were happy and smiling. todoroki knew what these 'symptoms' were, but he wanted everything to stay as it was for now.
why he had caught those feelings, he didn't know. he figured it was the way you stood out. you didn't get lost in between the others and he liked that.
while todoroki was deep in thought, ashido had walked over to your desk, where you were doing the assignment in peace and quiet,
"(y/n), look! the other's and i thought about how todoroki always stares at you so intensely, so we created these shipnames! which one do you like better?"
you looked at the paper or rather the newly created words and little pictures drawn by some of your classmates and immediately turned red. flailing your hands around a little, you lied,
"none of these, i don't...like todoroki in that way."
mina looked a tad upset at that, but she understood, nodded and walked back to her table. you sort of felt bad, having killed her excitement, but you didn't need anyone knowing about your secret crush on the stoic one.
speaking of the stoic one, he couldn't hear anything you and mina had talked about. he only saw her walking over, showing you something and you freaking out and sending her away. needless to say, he was curious what had caught you off guard so much. when shouto saw mina throwing away that suspicious piece of paper, he decided to look at it when class ended. even if he thought sticking his hand in the trash was a little gross.
the end of class came sooner than expected. shouto was packing his bag slower than usual, waiting until everyone had left. after they did, he skipped over to the trash can, pulling out the latest addition: a piece of paper that embarrassed (y/n)!
he stuffed it in his bag and carried on walking to his dorm room, where he finally felt safe looking at it, " 'ship names'? why would they want to name a boat after (y/n) and i?", he asked himself, before a certain doodle on the page explained your reaction and the girls' name-mixing. even shouto couldn't help but react in some way, thinking about said doodle happening in real life. that's when he got startled by a knock on his door.
"hey, todoroki. i know you always do your work in class, so i thought i'd come and ask you about...", you drifted off, seeing the light blush on his cheeks and his fire side burning, "...umm, am i interrupting something?"
he was hiding a piece of paper behind his back. you could see just the corner of it, but that was enough for you to identify what paper it was.
"didn't take you for the nosey type.", you akwardly laughed in order to drown out your embarrassment.
"sorry, i got curious.", he looked unusually upset, averting his heterochromatic eyes and letting his arms drop on his sides. you confirmed the paper was indeed the one that mina showed you earlier.
"did you dislike it a lot?", shouto asked without thinking.
now it was your turn to blush.
denki kaminari:
-ok hear me out
-his love language has to be physical touch
-so naturally, when you guys and the rest of the bakusquad had a sleepover, you cuddled
-platonically of course (even though both of you had feelings for one another, but shh)
-oh, but mina couldn't let this one slip
-she HAD to take a picture
-in the morning, when you were still only half awake, mina ecstatically showed her phone into your face
-"LOOK, (Y/N), YOU GUYS ARE THE CUTEST!"
-queue embarrassed (y/n) and denki
eijirō kirishima:
-i feel like with him, you had been like childhood friends
-and back in the day, you guys were all like
-"i'm gonna marry you when i'm older!"
-so you engraved a little "eijirō & (y/n)" into a tree
-years and years later you guys go back to that spot
-just because you wanted to reminisce the good old days
-you guys find the carvings
-"you know, (y/n), i still haven't changed my mind."
-"what do you mean, eijirou?"
-"i'd still marry you."
#headcanons#eijirou kirishima x reader#one shots#katsuki bakugou x reader#denki kaminari x reader#shouto todoroki x reader#x reader#shōto todoroki#eijirō kirishima#katsuki bakugō#bnha#boku no hero academia#mha#my hero academia#bnha x reader#fanfiction
92 notes
·
View notes