#I fucking slapped down colors and said fuck a light source

[nopuarts]

I love them too much, this pose was too good to resist.

Pose credit: https://twitter.com/emtfira/status/1652378642578812928

[sleepinghypnos]

ITZY Lia x Male Reader x Red Velvet Wendy ft. Irene

Tags: Smut (EDITED)

Genre: Facefucking, Deepthroat, Anal, Dirty Talk, Female Idol x Male Reader

A/N: Dialogues will be color coded

Black - Reader

Pink - Lia

Red - Wendy

Violet - Irene

Green - Other people

It's been a week since you started working for ITZY. The famous idol group has also been busy because of their recent comeback.

The admiration of people truly is a wonderful source of energy, especially for the artists who just finished their song for the fans.

Being able to withstand such burden makes you adore the group more and more.

You are on your way to the ITZY's waiting room. When suddenly a familiar hand grabbed you and pulled you into the corner of the backstage. There is no one here but sound and light equipment.

"What are you doing?" You said while looking at the girl in front of you. A wide smile greets you as she put her finger on your mouth to shush it.

"Oppa, don't make any noise they might hear us." Said the girl with a blonde hair named Lia. "I can't wait any longer, you said if we want to we can ask you right? Let me suck your cock now please?" Her pleading eyes is what gets you. How can an innocent looking person be this needy for someone's dick? You are here to do bodyguard related work but you always ended up fucking your clients.

You don't dare to say you regret it because many fans would kill just to sleep with their idols and here you are getting what they want for free and the idols are ones asking for it.

You nod your head to answer Lia. She immediately fell to her knees and helped you unbuckle your belt and pull your pants above your knees.

She whipped out your already throbbing cock. "It's bigger than the one in the video! How can you be so big?"

"Genetics i guess? Or maybe i'm blessed by the heavens." You answered while slapping your tip to her tongue.

"Well, if you're blessed then maybe that is the way of the heavens to make people kneel just like what I'm doing now."

You slid your cock in her mouth with very gentle rhythm, carefully testing whether the idol can do what the other can or not. She planted her nails into your legs and she starts throat fucking herself with your cock.

Watching the idol ruin herself because of lust, as you let her be consumed and devoured by her sexual desire. You moaned reflecting the pleasure she gives you, your length isn't even fit in her whole mouth.

A popping sound can be heard when she let your cock out off her mouth, she let it rest on her face as she realize that your member is bigger than the length of her head.

"Your throbbing hard cock really is huge, it's yummy Oppa." she said and continued to suck your rod once more. Lia looks at you with that lustful and needy eyes, you can't resist any further and you take control of everything.

Starting to thrust like no other, you held the back of her head to support your furious plunge making her gagged. Tears had formed in her eyes, the sound she makes and her tiny stature will make someone seriously think that you are doing something inappropriate with her.

"Your mouth is not only good at singing but also sucking dick, you slut!"

She tried to answer your remark but you didn't let her and fucked her mouth even more. Not thinking about the idols image any longer, using her as a mere tool for your own pleasure. She bobbed her head in-sync with your thrusts making the experience more ball draining.

Her pretty face is already ruined because of your vigorous fucking but that didn't make her less attractive it's quite the opposite.

"You're still beautiful even if your mouth is full with my dick." your compliment made her head bob up and down even more and continued to choke herself with your cock. Lia has a high possibility of having a 'Praise Kink'

"Shit! I'm fucking cumming Lia!"

With that, the idol prepared herself to received what the other girls have been addicted to lately, your cum. They all say it's sweet maybe because of your diet.

Your due approached and you grabbed her head, pushed her down to your cock, she didn't reach the base of your rod because of how big it is. You hold her there until you emptied into her mouth, coating her needy throat with your ropes of generous load. Her eyes were rolled back as if she attained enlightenment.

You rest your cock in her mouth for few more seconds till your last drop. She's looking at you while she plays your dick with her tongue. Lia let you see how much cum have been accumulated in her mouth and swallowed it.

"I now know why the two girls are addicted to you, your cum is delicious it is kinda sweet and you don't care if we are idols or not. You'll fuck us until we surrender to our sexual desire. I love it, Oppa!"

You patted her head. "It felt good Lia, your mouth is something else i must say. it's really good." you assured the idol and helped her stand up and gave her a kiss on her forehead, making her blushed and flustered.

"What did I just witnessed?"

Both of you looked at the one who spoked, Lia was shocked to see a Senior idol in front of her and you... well you do not care. She's Wendy a member of already established k-pop girl group called Red Velvet by SM Entertainment.

"He's our bodyguard, Sunbae!" Lia tries to explain to her senior what happened.

"I know who he is Lia-ssi, I've met him multiple times in the past. I just can't believe I'd see you here doing what you're good at again." She looked at me and Lia many times and attempts to leave but the younger idol stopped her.

"Sunbae it is consensual, so please don't report it. He didn't force me to do anything." she said while holding Wendy's wrist.

"Silly girl, of course i know it's consensual. I told you i've met him so many times in the past." Wendy slightly hugged Lia and patted her head.

Wendy left the spot that we're in and only Lia and you remain. you guide her to their waiting room and saw all of the ITZY members are inside. you just greeted them and stayed outside the door for security.

While waiting for the next schedule. You saw Red Velvet's Waiting room few doors away from you and reminded you of Son Seung-wan again, she is the only member of Red Velvet that you didn't have any physical connection with because the time you've spent with them doing bodyguard duties. The job only lasts for two weeks.

But you've been tirelessly messing with her other members almost every hour, especially Joy and Irene. The combination of the two made you a vegetable, it's like Yuna and Chaeryeong but sluttier. Meanwhile Seulgi is much more tamed and obedient. Yeri on the other hand had a boyfriend that time and don't want to cheat on him which is what couples must abide into.

For Wendy she didn't like the idea of you messing around with her co-members and stayed away from you, but you know that she also wanted what others was having.

She might say she don't but her actions betrayed her. Wendy and Seulgi share the same room and it's the same for Irene and Joy while Yeri is like a queen in her room because she's alone there and she can do whatever she wants.

Every time you fuck Seulgi senseless, Wendy will remain in their room while pretending to watch a movie and she really is watching but not the movie but you and Seulgi.

There's that one time when you and Seulgi is being intimate, she didn't even realize that she's been caught cause of how focus she is on how you plowed her roommate until she passed out. You even stood up and went to her side ordering her to suck your dick which she almost did, her tongue is already sticking out but she woke up from the trance and rushed out of the room.

Hours passed by and an SBS staff request all of the idols to go the stadium. ITZY decided to pick the ones in the higher floor and so we did. The managers didn't go with you and stayed at the staff rooms.

Lia invited you to sit beside her and so you did. The area is safe and no one will have the nerve to go on higher floor seats aside from other idols.

The music surrounds the whole place, this is a private party for idols and cameras are not allowed. Even the fans who owns fancafe's can't enter inside the premises.

Everyone is partying to the music when a group of girls came to your spot. it was Red Velvet.

"I told you he is here." Wendy said in a smug face, it looks like the other members didn't believe her. You stand up to greet them and so is ITZY.

"Hello seonbaes!" ITZY greets the senior girlgroup and they greeted them back.

"Oppa! I thought you'll stay abroad, i didn't expect to see you here." A woman suddenly hugged you and almost got out-of-balance because of it. Familiar scent envelops your sense of smell, her perfume is still the same. It was Joy.

You felt her chest rubbing into your own, still the same naughty woman. She let you go to for you to greet the other member, you gave each one of them a hug.

Seulgi is always the one who is quiet and waiting for her turn. Your mouth went for her neck and you marked with a hickey. Which she received well.

Yeri on the other hand became much more assertive on things. The moment you went in for a hug, the idol hugged you and she put her hand on your crotch. It's quick and impressive she whipped out your cock and started stroking it.

As far as you know she is still with her boyfriend but this is what she want so you let her.

She knelt down and put your cock in her mouth. Sucking it so passionately.

All of the girls were shocked and immediately blocked the two of you. Well, because of your height you are still visible.

"Kim Yeri what are you doing?!" Said Irene. Even she was shocked.

"I just want to taste it. All of you are addicted to this big fucking cock unnie. I want to know why, i already got my answer." Yeri continued to suck you off and stopped cause her jaw hurts.

"Seonbae you guys know Oppa too? In that extent?" Ryujin tried to pry why they didn't seem to mind that much what happened.

All of the Red Velvet members nod in unison. After Yeri had her unexpected FUN, you put your erected cock back in your pants which is not easy.

You proceed to greet the remaining people and hug them.

Your hug to Irene is much longer than the others. "Why did you let that brat do that? Pervert!" You just chuckled and act like its not your fault. "Still tall and handsome as ever huh?" Irene spoke.

"And still beautiful as ever huh noona?" as you lean back to see her face.

"I told you don't call me that, You are my Oppa. I belong only to you remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know baby." You gave her a kiss on her lips and proceed to hug Wendy.

She flinch because of the unexpected hug and she also felt your boner that isn't subsided yet but she return it eventually. "Hello Gorgeous!" you said while still hugging her.

"Gorgeous my ass! You are still the same."

"Your ass? I think they are gorgeous too!" your hands travelled from her back to her bottom and the moment you found the treasure you caress it gently, she whimper trying to hide her face on your chest.

"Once a pervert, always a pervert!" her hug tighten and it looks like she won't let go.

"So, you two got very close eventually huh?" Joy's voice interrupted your most awaited physical contact with Wendy.

"Yeah! So what?" You replied and let go of the woman in front of you and lean towards her ear to say something to her. "Should we continue what should've happen that day if you didn't run away from me?"

No words came out of her mouth but she nodded as an answer. Looks like she also looking forward in meeting you one day.

The other girls already finished their own personal greetings and now we are seated here in the higher floor and a less crowded side of the stadium, it's dark but not totally.

Lia is on your right and Wendy to your left. the younger idols are enjoying the party like it's their last day on Earth.

"Wendy, can you suck it for me please?" You are bold to your request. Your boner is already hurting. she look at you for a few seconds and she stand up from her chair to kneel in front you.

"Oooh! Looks like someone is eager to try the huge snake hiding beneath the clothes." Joy got the attention of others because of her remark. they proceed to watch what's going to happen. Even the ITZY members are waiting for it.

"Just make sure not to get caught." Irene added.

Your cock is already out and it's still wet because of Yeri. Wendy is now stroking your cock, her pace is not unbearably slow nor fast. It's perfect! Then she licks your shaft up and down. The girls reacts when Wendy sucked not just your dick but also your balls. You don't know where she learnt any of these but it makes your dick even harder.

"S-shit Wendy! Where did you learn to do that?" you said while moaning because of pleasure. Wendy is not the type of person that sleeps with just anyone.

Wendy sucks your dick with more intensity, she's starting to gain a pace and confidence, her drool is covering your shaft as she vehemently bobbed her head to your cock. You grabbed her head and starts violating the poor idols mouth like giving her a punishment.

"So it begins, hehe!" Joy patiently watching as i fuck her friend's throat like i did to her and the other idols.

"gawk... gawk... gawk" is the only sound that you can hear coming from Wendy. The Stadium's music don't matter to you or any of you.

You let Wendy's hands rest on your thighs while you fuck her face, her eyes are glued to you and her make up slowly getting ruined each time the tip of your cock touches the back of her throat, making both of you moan out of pleasure.

"Baby i'm cumming!" her eyes sparkles the moment you utter those words. She grabbed your thighs tightly as you pushed her head towards your throbbing and raging cock.

She blinked multiple times when your thick cum starts gushing out of your cock into her mouth. You can feel her tongue moving and trying to taste your load but no avail because your liquid is directly flowing to her stomach. All she can do is continue gulping.

You gave her a chance to at least taste your baby batter, the final three spurts landed in her mouth. Just like the rest, she showcase your cum and swallow all of it.

Your still erected cock lies on Wendy's face and the idol is just there letting it rest and looking at you.

"That's was so hot not gonna lie!" Joy and Yeri said in unison.

While the others are busy taking photos in a low light to prevent other people to actually see what transpired in your location. They giggled because of how the photos came to be.

Lustful yet passionate.

"Your mouth felt good, baby!"

"And your dick is so big you perverted bastard. I thought i was going to die. You keep choking me!"

"We are not done, come follow me outside." the other girls reacted wildly because of what you said. holding Wendy on her wrist pulling her. You walk through number of floors and doors ended up in an isolated room with basic furniture such as couch, tables, and other chairs.

You already know the layout of the stadium because this place is your typical work field when you're doing bodyguard duties.

Irene followed you to ensure that no one else in tailing you. "This is a nice spot, Oppa!" Irene said while looking around the room.

You didn't waste any more time and let the two of them kneel down to suck your cock once again. Wendy is kneeling to your right and in the opposite side is Irene.

Both of them were traversing your long shaft with their tongues to the top of your cock, they are moving in unison passionately kissing and licking both of your length and balls.

Wendy is now more daring in her assault. While the oldest choke herself from your big hard cock, the younger one find her way into your back entrance and started licking you there.

"Oooh, you are so daring Wendy! I like it! Irene deliberately stopping her onslaught on your cock just to compliment Wendy for her boldness.

You jolted because Wendy is performing a rimjob. "Now i-aahh, shit! i'm really curious on h-how and where did you l-learn any these." making yourself a bit more horny by the second.

"I didn't do anything with anyone, i just watch porn and learned how to do it. i barely even contain myself earlier when i saw you fucking Lia's face. I learn it for you, pervert!"

You stopped Irene from devouring your hard rod any further and carry Wendy into the couch and put her on a missionary, Irene spit on your cock again and again so that it will slid inside easily.

"I tried using dildos in our room, but i didn't order oversize ones cause i want your dick to destroy me and not those toys." Wendy confesses and it made you happy. "Please use my tight little pussy as you see fit, Daddy!"

You took Wendy's and Irene's clothes off and now of them are naked, flaunting both of their treasure. Irene's tits is much bigger than Wendy and yet both of them are reasonable in size. They are both firm and delicate. They both possess such flawless silky white skin in contrast to your slightly tanned yet firm skin.

"Daddy? I didn't expect that you had it in you Wendy, i'm so proud of you! Should i call you that too? Daddy." Irene said teasing you with her alluring voice and vexing body as she watches you preparing yourself to indulge into something so exquisite. Irene grabbed your head and pushed it against her tits making you suck her nipples.

She moaned like a total slut while caressing your head. Meanwhile Wendy is massaging her clit watching the two of you be intimate.

Irene stopped and let you devour the feast in front of you, she knows Wendy is still a virgin for a huge dick like yours.

"I'm going to put it in now, baby. bare with it." as you slowly slid your cock into her virgin cunt, her face starts showing a sign of pain when your cock is already half through.

"So fucking tight!" making sure she won't get hurt that badly.

"F-fuck, it's so big! it's all in finally!" she said.

"Oh not yet, little bitch. It's only half of it." Irene replied while hiding her laughter.

"What? There's more?! Gggh~ ahhh! FUCK!!" she gasped when you thrust suddenly and let her tight little cunt devour your rod completely.

"It hurts? Should i pull out?" you asked.

"No, please! Uh.. Let me adjust and get used to it first. I don't want to ruin this moment, ruin this for the three of us."

You're kissing Wendy and Irene one after the other, you can feel Wendy's passageway to loosen up a bit as you continue to stimulate her.

"I'm okay now D-daddy, please move!" Wendy said and you did what she asked. Few minutes of testing the waters and you started thrusting in more powerful way.

"Fuck Daddy your cock is so huge. such a big fucking cock! you are stretching me out aaah!~" Wendy began cursing and talking such vulgar words. She's getting fucked by a huge dick that even she couldn't imagine of receiving.

You changed position while your dick is still in her. You're plowing her in the back now and you are going deeper because it.

"Daddy you're so deep! Sh-shit! I think you are in my uterus. Fuck! you're going too deep! I can feel you in my stomach!" her moaning still sounds angelic like her singing voice and it's making you to fuck her more.

Her height and stature is small compare to you so it's easy for you to lift her up. You position her into full nelson, your favorite style even your clients in the past up to present still can't get over how you fuck them senseless in that vulgar position.

Irene saw through your intention and brought her phone out and ofcourse to start recording. She already knows that it's a trophy for another conquest, she has multiple videos of your past client getting plowed in that manner.

Wendy is surprise because of how easy for you to lift her, you placed each one of your arm to the back of her knees and your hands are already locked behind her neck.

You started plowing her again with more intensity, her moans become louder and louder. You are fucking her so hard that sound your body colliding as you thrust into her keeps echoing in the room.

Irene finished her little recording and dialed the girls to let them watch.

"Oooh! She's getting fucked real good there Unnie!" Joy has amazement in her voice and the other girls with her seems to be excited too. You can hear their voice cheering you to fuck Wendy more.

"Daddy! Please please please! You are so deep in me. Fuck! Use me! SHIT USE ME DAAADDDYYY!" Wendy squirting so much but you didn't stop pounding her, she's now half awake. the sound of her rich ass colliding with your body filled the room and made it look like a porn studio.

"I'm cumming you squirting slut!" you rammed her yet again waking her up.

"Yes! Breed me daddy. Fill me up! S-shit! i want your seed flowing inside me please please!" With that, your cum gushed out from your cock filling her up. You pulled out your still erected cock from her and you saw how it overflow, it's leaking.

Wendy passed out without realizing that the other girls are watching her getting railed so intensely, she changed into a different person whose instinct in to breed only.

"It's my turn now right Daddy?" Irene can't contain herself anymore. You can see how wet she is, you made her wait for so long.

"Of course come here baby, spread your legs for me in the couch!" and she did what you asked. she immediately position herself in the couch, legs spread and waiting like a total slut.

You didn't bother with the foreplay cause she's so wet and her ass is already lubricated so you straight up rail her in the ass and thrusting your whole length inside of her.

Wendy's moans were replaced by hers and it equally pleasing to the ears. You didn't hold back and showed her how much she deserved to be fuck hard because of her patience.

"Yes daddy! Fuck yes. I missed your huge cock so much! Please keep fucking me like this even if i eventually get married." She moans relentlessly saying such triggering words only makes you go even harder.

"I thought you hate men you slut!?" you're choking her neck with a normal grip of your hands, she seems to like it every time you did this to her.

"Yes i hate men, but not you. You may aaaah~ may be fucking so many women but you didn't do anything bad to us, instead yo- FUCK RIGHT THERE! RIGHT THERE!!! SHIT!! instead you protected u-us and gave us a sense of security. i'll let you fuck me everywhere even we are in public. Fuck! SO PLEASE USE ME MY ASS! DESTROY ME DADDY!" She is taking your huge cock in her ass like a champ. You've been fucking her ass ever since your first day of being their bodyguard. You basically molded her insides to the shape of your dick.

"Spit in my mouth please! Please! Daddy! I want you to violate me please! FUCK!" She kept on begging you to spit in her mouth so you did while here eyes were rolled back and her tongue is sticking out.

"I'm cumming now baby! Where do you want it?!" your hands stopped choking her to let her breathe then you proceed to slap her face to asked her again. "Where? Tell me!"

"Cum in my ass daddy please! It's your personal fleshlight, fill my ass with your thick load aaahh~"

And with that signal, you release a series of generous amount of load into the ass of one of the beautiful or the most beautiful k-pop artist of all time. Bae Joo-hyun

Both of them are were completely ruined and yet they are happy, you saw Irene's phone still in the videocall with the girls they all saw how you fucked the two them. You decided to bid them farewell and end the call.

It's time to clean up this mess before anyone came in here.

"What the fuck is this?!"

You were picking their things when you heard someone yelled in the door, you saw her figure and you were stunned to speak.

"IT'S YOU!?" Both of you shouted in unison

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!! (Yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous)

(Chapter 19 another long one)

His base shook like an earthquake hit, knocking him off his feet. The lights in his sea base flashed an angry red, a jarring siren sounding inside metal walls. “Shit shit shit shit shit!” Danny screamed, rushing to the front hatch, silicone flippers slapping against the floor.

Thoughts cluttered Danny’s throbbing skull. Had the reaper followed them? Why wasn’t Dami doing anything about it? Did the reaper hurt him that badly? Why wouldn’t this door fucking open?!

It didn’t give a single inch no matter how hard he pushed the sturdy glass hatch. Nothing he tried seemed to work, the door didn’t want to budge. Even when he threw all his weight against the glass like a living battering ram something pushed back every time. Staring through the glass, his blood began to broil like milk placed on a hot stove.

What.

The.

Actual.

FUCK!

Curses fell past his lips like heavy rainfall. Words that would make a sailor blush and land him a permanent grounding if someone heard. Barely legible words, too big for his mouth to keep up with. Feelings too big for his body left him wailing on the metal floor.

His only door was blocked by Dami, keeping him prisoner in his own Seabase. Forget anything he said about Dami not being cruel, this fish was a cold, callous bastard who deserved to be mauled! False imprisonment. Kept in a cage like a rowdy puppy!

This was a setup for a gruesome true crime documentary. One that’d have scary music with violins and a poorly tuned piano for dramatic effect. It would have that one moment where a photo of them had its colors inverted so the narrator could build up suspense. “They were friends until they weren’t,” Then they’d go on to describe in graphic detail how Danny starved to death in his fucking base. He’d be the cautionary tale Alterra would use; twisting the actual cause to benefit the company and shame employees.

His Seabase suddenly felt incredibly small as breathing sharpened. Yanking hard on locks of raven hair Danny let out a scream. Snot dripped down his nose, scalding hot tears burning against chilled skin. He wasn’t trained for any of this shit! Why did nobody think to put a “giant fish bastard,” protical in the survival guide? Didn’t Alterra pride itself on being prepared?

Slamming fists against glass, he could feel his flesh begin to bruise; short fingernails dug into his palms with every heavy hit. Feet slammed into the door like mini hammers. Hinges creaked as Dami put more weight into keeping his base sealed tighter than Pandora’s box. Fucker!

He felt like a toddler throwing a tantrum, kicking, screaming, crying. This was a justified tantrum though. Nothing about this situation was trivial. His entire body could be crushed within a matter of minutes. All Dami had to do was put a little too much weight on his roof and he was flat as a pancake. It didn’t even need to be purposeful! The worst part was; he couldn’t even look his captor in the eye because his thick skull was blocking the fucking door!

Coiled around his base like a snake he made himself at home. Technically, this planet was his home but the fucker was suffocating himself to be petty. Normally, he respected petty behavior; pettiness flowed through his veins but this shit crossed past the line of petty revenge or malicious compliance.

All it would take is one wrong move for his solar panels to be damaged. Just a few seconds of curiosity for him to pluck them off the roof like dandelions in an open field. Without a source of power pumping breathable air into the base would be a distant memory. One he’d miss oh so much when his face was turning purple as he slowly suffocated to death! To add insult to injury, he’d be dying in a place he specifically built to be his safe haven in a sea of salt water.

Even if they weren’t damaged, his power situation looked as bleak as his academic future. Daylight wouldn’t last forever and solar panels weren’t exactly known for their effectiveness at night! A power outage that lasted more than a few minutes would kill him. Such a stupid way for him to die; the only redeeming feature of that death would be the location. Dying on a planet unexplored by humans was decently cool no matter how you spun it.

Would he come back afterward this time too? When he’d been gargling on his blood as his Lifepod crashed to the sea; not once did he think there would be another chance for him. Danny could only assume it’s three strikes and you’re out, but when it came down to weird zombie resurrections he could never be sure. Would he be caught in a death loop? Doomed to slowly die of suffocation over and over again until Dami decided he’d had his fun?

Is this a normal prank for a fish teenager to pull? Because this was sociopathic behavior if this was a prank. The language barrier made the situation a little better, but it wasn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card. Language barrier or not this was still leaving a dog in a hot car levels of stupidity.

This was such a cruel thing the universe decided to do to him. What had he done to deserve this? He hadn’t cheated on the CATs. Not in this timeline at least. Was this some form of divine punishment or did he just have an aura that made everyone want to screw him over? Either way, if this guy really thought of him as a pet he’d be in for a surprise when Danny built a fucking taser. Let him have a taste of what made him so awesome!

With a sneer, Danny watched the window. Dami’s midsection was pressed against the glass. Dots ran across his body, a straight line of tiny circles glowing dimly with the setting sun. A built-in night light to help Dami sleep at night knowing how terrible he was being right now. Pale desaturated blue faded to a shadow-like black. The transparent looked ghostly, like he could run his hands straight through it. A feat he was capable of doing without breaking a sweat not even a week ago.

Glowering, he slammed his hands against the window with a rage burning brighter than the stars in the sky. How could he convince a giant sea serpent teenager to piss off? Without his ghostly wail to boost his volume loud enough to shatter glass and crumple buildings, shouting was a useless scare tactic.

Dami couldn’t plan on blocking the door forever; could he? Maybe he was just pissed Danny ignored him about the crash zone. If he’d understood that hungry murder fish were chilling near the crash zone he probably would’ve gone anyway just to see it. But he hadn’t known; how could you punish him for that?

Actually, there were a lot of people who’d do that.

With a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagged, every breath of fresh air exhausted him to the core. Eyelids drooped anxiety battling against the growing need for rest. He could wait this out; Dami’s only mortal, he can't stay forever…

But he could keep his lazy ass parked here long enough for his supports to give in under his weight. His foundations continued to creak, a nauseating groaning of metal being strained. It was a pure miracle his base hadn’t collapsed already!

Danny screamed, collapsing into a heap of snot and tears. Chubby fingers smudged the glass. He’d never felt so useless in his life. Not when his parents rambled about ripping his alter ego molecule by molecule and not when his grades slipped through his fingers. Life sucked when you didn’t have a grocery list of superpowers at your fingertips. He felt further from normal than ever. Dying a second time had made him more freakish than the first.

A Useless freak! Wasn’t this just a wonderful predicament? This was the perfect use of precious time. It wasn’t like the Aurora’s drive core was a ticking time bomb that would explode into a massive conglomerate of metal with enough radiation to cause a mass extinction…

Oh, wait, what’s that? The Aurora is a fucking quantum detonation waiting to happen? And he’ll be stuck here like a toddler trapped in their playpen when it happens? How wonderful! Here Danny thought he could actually try to help. You know, find a way to be useful when the tragedy happened instead of waiting a week to gather the supplies he’d need to do anything.

Instead, he was trapped here with no laser cutter, no seamoth, no propulsion gun, and no radiation suit to do anything but wilt like a daisy planted in battery acid when the radiation spread out. He couldn’t go check if the Degasi base even existed either! He couldn’t check down there for anything useful and he couldn’t check to see if anyone was alive! All because a stupid teenager decided Danny’s a puppy who needs kennel training!

All he wanted now was to phase his hands through the glass and punch Dami when he wasn’t expecting it. To scare the teen into running to tell his parents about how mean Danny is. He didn’t care! He’d throw hands with however many parents and siblings Dami had! Lay down with dogs get up with fleas. Play stupid games win stupid prizes. At this point, ghosting should be the consequence of stupid actions.

Something tight wrapped around his wrist squeezing flesh and bone in a python-like grip. The curtain clung to his wrist, his entire hand stuck through it like he’d punched a hole through. A transparent ripple in the fabric circled his hand, a defiance of physics he’d never been so excited to see.

If anyone took a picture of him right now you’d think he won the lottery. Intangibility, his beloved! Oh, how he desperately missed it. Attempting to pull his hand back, Danny blinked owlishly when his hand remained firmly implanted in the fabric. He braced his foot against the glass, tugging as hard as he cut but the curtain rods just groaned, creaking under his weight.

It reminded him of the first few months after the accident; when his powers just didn’t do what he wanted them to do. Of all the times he’d fallen through his locker door. All the poor beakers and cups that'd slip through his fingers and shatter on the ground. Every memory of a mistake or malfunction a reminder that things weren’t always as easy as he mourned them to be.

What happened?

When did walking through walls become as easy as breathing for him? Something he could do without thinking or breaking a sweat. There had to be a turning point. A moment when everything clicked into place like puzzle pieces. Not having some sort of dampener might’ve helped. Maybe he just needed to think intangible thoughts?

Uhhhhh…

Blob ghosts!

Technus, Ember, Skulker, Pointdexter!

…

Nothing.

The cloth continued to strangle his wrist, cutting off his blood flow, turning his hand a frightening shade of red. Irritated and throbbing with every second the limb went without the crucial oxygen it needed. Yanking back with all his pitiful might, the metal rod groaned with each tug.

This stupid curtain was going to take his hand. The limb was going to go necrotic and fall off like a twisted 1600s fairytale! It wouldn’t even be one of those fairytales that got butchered into a poorly produced Disney movie! Just a cautionary tale that parents would use to scare children out of throwing tantrums. And it would happen because this thin piece of cloth just-

Wouldn’t.

Let.

Go.

Thud!

Blunt pain shot up his back as he toppled over like a house of cards. Static shot up throughout his arms, fingers tingling as blood finally flowed freely again. Wiggling each finger individually, bright purplish red faded to its normal pallor hue. Breathless, excitement surged in his chest, freedom at the tips of his fingers. Intangibility! It’d worked! An excited squeal died on his lips both hands blocking noise from alerting his self-assigned prison warden.

When this was over he’d never take his powers for granted ever again! Never in a billion years! Forget being normal. Normal is the path of the coward; he’s a fucking ghost! Danny Phantom; that’s who he is! Not some pet for an oversized oceanic teenager or the cowardly dumbass of a family chalked full of geniuses everyone thought him to be.

Freedom was just a few feet away now. All he needed to do was brute force his intangibility into working again…

Easier said than done.

Something somewhere in this solar system really didn’t want him to use his powers but that something could go pound sand for all he cared. He had a Seabase to explore and a Leviathan to punch when he got back.

Slowly, he crept toward the far side of his base. The closest he could get to kelp forests without leaving his base. The furthest he could get from Dami’s face. There would be no invisibility to shield him from Dami’s gaze if the leviathan turned his head.

This escape had to be flawless! Not a single glowing eye could land on him; not for a single millisecond. There was no doubt Dami would attempt to follow him. He’d been willing to follow Danny into reaper-infested waters to act as a guard dog!

Squishing his body against the floor, Danny squeezed his fists tight. He needed to be ready to swim. As fast as he could and as stealthy as physically possible; Dami couldn’t be given a chance to catch him. One poorly placed grab and Danny could be shish kabobed by his claws in an instant!

Metal walls groaned, Dami’s python-like grip denting titanium and straining glass. Danny hissed, a cheek pressed up against the wall; he’s going to implode at the rate things were going. This Leviathan needed to take a chill pill before he gave himself a heart attack and a murder charge.

He kept his breathing deep and slow; his eyes pinned to the window. Muscles lax, palms flat on the ground a tingling sensation sparked through his body as he slowly sunk through the floor.

There wasn’t a second of hesitation in his mind; when he made it through he booked it. Not a single thought of reluctance could make him falter. Any coherent idea was drowned out by the desperate need to reach the kelp forests. Only when he swam deep into green-tinted waters did he allow himself to look back. …

Dami hadn’t followed him?

Did Dami think he wasn’t worth chasing? How dare he. Maybe he just didn’t see him? There wasn’t exactly an abundance of creatures who could through both walls and flesh but Danny couldn’t help feeling disappointed. It wasn’t like he wanted to be hunted down like an animal but a little recognition would be nice.

Pouting, a frown tugged on his lips, his PDA lighting up his face in the fleeting daylight scrutinizing the coordinates on screen. A deep yellow light shone from clusters of seeds like naturally grown lamp posts in a busy forest of kelp. Groups of Stalkers prowled the biome, their lack of bioluminescence allowing them to cloak themselves in the setting sun.

The signal was closer to the Aurora than he’d previously thought. It wasn’t clear if it was directly in the crash site but it was definitely close enough to guarantee a lethal injury if the drive core decided to explode while he was busy poking his nose in Torgal Corps business. Was this really worth the risk?

…

Yes.

Absolutely.

Without a possible doubt.

There was something fishy going on and he wanted to know if this was a Scooby-Doo situation. The Torgal’s in all their eccentric glory dressed themselves up as giant fish to keep the planet for themselves. At least in a scenario like that everyone would be mostly alive.

A naive part of him wanted to believe that. Was the lack of human contact already getting to him? Maybe it was the PDA’s explanation for morbid realities? Death dumbed down and sugarcoated to the point your brain would rot if you took it seriously. It was like the PDA couldn’t grip his reading comprehension and common sense was above that of an infant!

The tablet not thinking he could piece together what happened to the people in lifepod three made sense. But life pod seventeen?? Ozzy’s death was clear cut; eaten by a giant snake,done! Trauma contained, business as usual until, finally in his late fifties he realized how badly the situation fucked him up. With how the tablet tried to explain things he'd go his entire life thinking Ozzy and anyone who didn’t make it to a life pod “Went to live on a farm off-planet,”

Would the PDA try to explain things away if he found a skeleton?

Yeah, he didn’t actually want an answer to that question. Finding someone dead was the last thing anyone wanted unless they were a mortician…Or a serial killer.

As hypocritical as it might sound, he’d prefer to find living people. At this point, he wouldn’t even mind if he found ghosts. He needed there to be ghosts. For those who died to tell him who they were. Names, their favorite colors, what they wanted to do with their lives. Anything to prove these people were something other than their last words. Something to prove they were something other than a number on a list of casualties. He had to find something.

He would find something; someone, scanners be damned.

A dense forest of kelp transitioned to the plateaus red grass sprouting from the seabed as distance ticked down. Wrecks he didn’t have the tools nor the energy to explore taunted him. Tantalizing, wires smoked and sparked as if screaming of all the possible valuables hidden inside.

See if he cared. There was someplace much cooler for him to explore! Ancient's forbid there be something as abhorrent as ugh; walls down there. Hopefully, they were sensible enough to leave a key under the doormat.

Chunks of seamoths half buried in the sand were scattered near each wreck. Storage crates filled with only the mangled remains of what once was a complex piece of technology. Tools gnarled and melted, fragments of what they used to be. Reduced to nothing but an expensive piece of scrap. It was a miracle his scanner could salvage anything from some of this stuff!

How would the PDA even make some of these blueprints useable? Would it babyproof the laser cutter? Cutting through layers of steel wasn’t what he’d call a safe activity. You could easily chop off a hand or foot if you weren’t careful. The heat would cauterize it too so the chance of reattaching anything was small. Maybe it was like those car doors that stopped automatically so it wouldn’t crush your hand?

How would it make the seamoth usable? He’d thought about it briefly before but now that he had the blueprints in hand his curiosity tripled. A seamoth was essentially just a submarine but felt closer to a car than anything else. Would the tablet even allow him to make one? He hadn’t had a license before the crash but now that he’s funsized it’s twice as dangerous!

The PDA did let him swim around with a knife, but giving him a car was a bit much even for Alterra. Then again; they did bring a fourteen-year-old into space so maybe the line was further away than he thought?

Watching the numbers tick down as he paddled closer to his destination, he shook his head. Alterra’s restrictions were a problem for the future. Present him should stick to worrying about the Degasi.

Between the bright red grass of the plateaus and the murky green of the kelp forest was what he needed. A chasm leading downwards was illuminated by mushrooms clinging to stone. A scratchy roar muffled by the depth gave him goosebumps.

He broke for the surface, taking a huge gasp of air as his tanks topped up. Those snake-like creatures Ozzy talked about were down there. Something he found terrifying on its own without knowing they already had a taste for human flesh. Flesh, bone, and everything in between, nothing had been spared.

Ancient’s, these guys better not be like owls.

Blinking a gruesome image out of his brain, he delved down into the chasm. Darker and darker, a purplish glow lit up his face. The jellyfish mushrooms he’d seen before filled the biome. With caps like pretty pink jellyfish and their stems dark and strong. A piece of flora he’d expect to see in the ghost zone but also fit with what all those old sci-fi comics said alien life would be like.

A fish that looked like a peeper swam near, its eye a bright magenta and its tail like dripping wax. The light from his seaglid startled the fish into a hasty retreat.

It’s not long until he finds what he was looking for… Or at least what’s left of it. Every inch of metal was covered in rust, barnacles fused to the roof. A compartment collapsed to the floor, seawater flooded the base.

He knew; before he even stepped foot in that seabase that nobody lived there for a very long time. Only curious fish looking for somewhere to hide.

A spotlight hung from the roof almost indistinguishable from the rusted rooftop. A water filter stuck out against smoother surfaces. The survivors who stayed here were in it for the long hall or at least they tried to be. It hadn’t exactly gone well for them from what he could tell.

A PDA glowing dimly where a compartment had collapsed. A single log transferred to his PDA before the tablet went blank.

“Son, there is always a pecking order, and in our world, money makes the hierarchy,” An older voice begins. “I pay Maida a fraction of what I pay, and you a fraction of what I pay me,” He’s confident like each word was a law set in stone.

“If money makes the hierarchy, why is Marguerite making the decisions?” A much younger voice questioned.

“We NEED her.” The older man emphasizes. “We let her think what she likes, so long as she does what she’s told,”

“And what if she doesn’t?” The younger prods.

“For enough money, she will. People always do.” This Paul Torgal sounded like he'd get along well with Vlad.

The whole “ Everything and everyone can be bought if you have enough money,” Was straight up the Fruitloop’s alley, never mind the fact that it’s blatantly wrong. They’re both delusional old men; maybe they could bond over that?

Shaking his head Danny stared at a duo of hanging plants. Downward spirals that reminded him of jellyfish stingers. Their bright purple glow screamed, “Touch me and you’ll have a very bad time.” A carnivorous plant that ate small fish.

Now, he wasn’t a fish; but he was small. Small enough to be eaten whole by a crabsnake and small enough to squeeze by the stingers without even grazing them.

Trash was piled throughout the base; wires hanging from the ceiling of a multipurpose room. Plenty of things to scan yet not a single person in sight. Though, he wasn’t quite sure he’d expected to find anyone in here in the first place. The base was flooded; bottom to top. Not a single foot of this base was free from seawater.

Two PDAs sat abandoned in the room. One stashed away in an open locker; the other sat flat on a desk. Both of them still glowed dimly despite human hands not grazing those screens since they were abandoned. It was a miracle these PDAs managed to turn on let alone transfer any data! Yet here it was; two logs and coordinates right here for him to gawk at.

Maybe Tucker was right about the older PDA models being better. A notification popped up on his PDA; a reminder that his “Bedtime” was near. He ignored it; simply ushering a gentle reassurance to the tablet. Clearly, it’s jealous and was trying to redirect his attention.

{Proposed Degasi Habitat (500m)}

500 meters down?! What were these people trying to swim down to the core of the earth?! This base already flooded! What made them think they could keep the seawater out when the pressure was a thousand times worse?

Tapping the play button he decided he’d give them a chance to explain themselves as he poked his scanner everywhere he could.

“You know what Maida told me today?” Paul's voice starts, leaving Danny to guess.

It had to be something along the lines of, “Pull that stick out of your ass!” Or maybe “ Stop being such a massive douchenozzle,”

“She wants to build a habitat 500 meters below sea level more than a kilometer northeast of here. And she needs Bart and I to do it,” Oh, that explained the crazy scuba diving he’d be needing to do. Maida won this battle.

With a shake of his head, Danny kept his scanner pointed at the water filter. It stuck out of the wall like a sore thumb a piece of tech that hadn’t been changed since the day it was sent out. Pretty sure the same brand of water filters had been tucked away in the cargo bay. Hey, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it. Though he’s not sure if that still applied when it came to life-saving technology.

Danny only paid half attention to the man as he rambled about Meida like he was a grade-schooler who didn’t understand bullying your crush wasn’t the way to get their attention. “She’s being so reckless! I am obviously the leader of this group meh meh meh meh meh,” Please, this guy had a superiority complex every word he spoke screamed of it. Even when he spoke with his son, it sounded so insincere and- what in the fresh fuck?!

He’s eighty?! No wonder he was spouting nonsense; he’s completely senile! Eighty years left in him; that was mother Gothel level shit right there. Does Bart have healing hair? Is that why Paul sounded so freaking. Seriously all this talk about mortality and replacing livers like that’s a normal thing to do when you get old.

“It’s my responsibility to make a decision. Return to the island and hope whatever knocked the Degasi out of the sky won’t do the same to the rescue ship, or take us deeper in search of answers. All the while hoping old age gets to me before the sea monsters do.”

Danny hoped old age got him first too. Not that he wanted anyone to die. He’d just prefer it if whatever sea monsters the old Fruitloop was talking about didn’t have a taste for human flesh. Maybe they already did? After all, two ships had been knocked out of the atmosphere with no hesitation. Not even a warning shot or redneck war cry of “Get off my turf!”

Just- BAM!

A hundred people dead without so much of a clue what the hell had happened! What was the point of that? It needlessly destroyed the planet. Was human flesh that tasty? Should he be flattered? He probably shouldn’t. People are dead and more would be dead if he didn’t find out what was happening on this freaky planet!

Swimming through the hallway the drooping stingers gave the room an eerie glow. Yet another tablet sat on a desk a few feet away from a double bed. The only bed he’d found in this seabase. Maybe they scrapped the other ones but Danny preferred to think the Degasi survivors packed themselves together like sardines. With Marguerit and Paul glaring daggers at each other while Bart acted as a living barrier.

A funny situation to think about while he did his best to brush away the morbid reality that these people were dead. To brush off the sinking feeling in his stomach that something much worse than flesh-eating sea monsters was going on here.

Call it morbid curiosity but he’d never been one to mind his business back home. What made anyone think he’d stop now that he’d been stranded on an alien planet? He’s the perfect example of a real-life horror movie protagonist. One you’d scream at through the screen as he waltzed right into a situation that’d kill him. With that said, he pressed play on another log.

“We’re already 200m below sea level! You want to go deeper,” He could empathize with the guy. Fish got freaky the deeper down you went. His PDA blared, an upgrade for his air tank added to his blueprints.

“Look around us Chief. Water leaking through the hull. Water outside the hatch. We’re drowning. Real slow.” Marguerite drawled out the last sentence. It’s clear in her voice; she’s already made up her mind.

If rescue arrives whatever shot us down is going to do it again. And again. Until it’s shut off. You see an off switch around here, chief?” The word chief sounded like a devastating insult when it came from Marguerit. A sardonic hint to her voice that

“Why would it any more likely be half a kilometer down?!” Paul shouted.

“Your kid found something on the scanner. There’s something down there. Something that shouldn’t be,” She states, and if Danny wasn’t on her side before he definitely was now.

“You’re mad,” He spits.

“I’m going all the same. And I’ve an idea you two are gonna follow. But if you do, be mindful: your authority stopped at sea level.” She ends, unwavering against Paul’s objections. He already knew who won this battle. Marguerit took no bullshit and went to chase down whatever Bart found on the scanner.

For some reason; he didn’t think they had the chance to find what they were looking for down there. Neither did he; Marguriet was right. There’s no off switch around here, and there certainly wasn’t a spare radiation suit hung up in the lockers that he could borrow.

All that’s left in these caves were the stones scattered throughout the biome. Paul was right about this place being chalked full of materials. Lithium clung to the walls and magnetite stuck out of the sand. An abundance of shale outcrops dropped gold and lithium, diamonds slowly drifting into his tiny hands.

“Remember that materials you gather are-“ The robotic voice cut off. The tablet decided whatever message pre-programmed into it was inappropriate to say to a baby.

Why did he get the feeling that the message was going to be a bill? It was a bill, wasn’t it? Anchient’s what kind of dystopian hellscape was Alterra running?! Billing a crash survivor for surviving? That sounded like something he’d expect of Vlad.

If the rescue teams showed up with itemized bills for everyone nothing would stop him from bankrupting Alterra. He’d bulldoze the corporation and turn every building they owned into a spirit Halloween maybe turn a warehouse or two into a hot topic. A little gift to Sam. No amount of backtracking on Alterra’s part would deter him. It’d be time for them to start rebuilding everything from scratch; with morals this time!

“Oxygen.” His PDA chimed; clearly a distraction to keep him from holding a grudge against Alterra for an imaginary scenario. The tablet underestimated the sheer pettiness he’s capable of; a rookie mistake on Alterra’s part.

Swimming up to the surface, Danny gasped, filling his lungs until they felt like they’d burst. His seglide helps him keep him bobbing above water seawater, moonlight engulfing him like a paper-thin bedsheet.

Stranded or not, he’d insist enthusiastically to anyone who cared that this planet’s moons were prettier than the one orbiting Earth. Glowing like a copper sphere half heated, several times the size of Earth’s moon. If he ever found that island Paul talked about he’d be stargazing like a king!

Staring longingly at the sky Danny kicked off, darting through the water as if he’d been born in it. His fingers lingered above the play button of one of Bart’s recordings. Bart was different from Paul and Marguriet in a way that made the thought of him being dead more distressing.

Marguriet was in her early forties when the Degasi dropped off the radar. Paul was in his late seventies when they crashed, turning eighty in the Jellyshroom caves. But Bart… He was just nineteen when he disappeared. It’s hard to wrap his head around that he’d be in his early thirties if he were alive today. Somberly, he pressed play.

“I thought it might get claustrophobic, living underwater. Father feels it is. He’d tell me it was childish but I stare out the window and sometimes I think how lucky I am to see this world up close.” The biochemist starts.

“Back on the island, I wouldn’t have believed the creatures that lived down here. The fish, they GLOW… There's one that’s 90% eyeball… and snakes twice the length of a habitat compartment” He says, awe oozing from each word he spoke. Sam would’ve gotten along with this guy.

“Certainly it’s not all friendly. Most of the plant life is toxic, I learned that the hard way, but I’ve managed to coax some marblemelons into growing indoors, and when they don’t cover our dietary needs…” There’s a slight pause and Danny really hopes he’s not about to confess to being a cannibal.

“We eat the fish themselves. It’s a bit gross, but nothing they wouldn’t do” Thank fuck.

“I’ve been attempting to document my findings. Father approves. He says understanding is power. That the more we know about the planet the more we can use it to our advantage,” Paul was right about that. Learning to differentiate between animals that wanted to tear flesh off your bones and the guys who just wanted to be left alone certainly was an advantage.

“I’m just doing it because it’s fun. It’s not easy without proper equipment and network access, but the old-fashioned way- Observing, taking notes, testing theories- shows me the world in a way spectroscopic analysis never could,” Bart continues.

“Lately I've been watching the crab snakes. They ambush their prey as it tries to feed on the mushrooms they hide in. What they don't eat settles on the seabed, which fertilizes the mushrooms, which feeds the herbivores, and so the chain continues. Co-evolution gives me the fuzzies.” Whatever floats your boat dude.

Biology never was his thing. He got a C in that class for a reason. Sure he’d gotten better but it wasn’t anything to write home about. Whatever notes he wrote about the local ecosystem were just entertainment for him. A way to fuel his obsession without having to look around and remember everyone was dead and there were no ghosts to be vengeful about their deaths. Most of the notes he wrote down on his PDA were solely for telling stories others hadn’t lived to tell.

They’d be another funny thing to explain when he found other survivors. Though hope was dwindling a bit at this point he wouldn’t give up just yet. There’s still a speck of hope for him to cling to. A logical expectation that the universe wasn’t stupid enough to leave him to solve problems on his own.

A piece of magnetite rested in his hands as his base slowly came into view. It’s strange to think a small stone like this was used to make torpedo systems all across the universe. Just another miracle of human intelligence. Anything and everything nature churned out could be made into a weapon if you scienced hard enough. … … … … Dami was gone.

It might be the crushing loneliness, but he couldn't help but be a little disappointed. Dami is classified as a teenager for his species he could have a parentally enforced curfew or something. That or maybe Dami found out he’d left and went to chase him down. Either way, if Dami tries a trick like that again he’s getting tased harder than a neckbeard at an anime convention.

Clliiick crickk....

A quiet noise echoed throughout the shallows. Like the click of a tongue, barely noticeable but creepy as hell to hear in the dark of night. Hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he scanned the area for any sign of Dami… Nothing, not a roar or a croon. Just an empty imprint in the sand where the leviathan curled around the base.

A peeper, its eye half open and Danny could only assume it was sleeping. Did peepers snore or something? How could something so tiny make a noise so big? The peeper's beak opened…

....       ....

           ....Clllick crickk

Ah, that’s how. He guessed that made sense… It didn’t but he wasn’t down for vivisecting local wildlife for something as stupid as a little snoring. Sometimes it was better to chalk things down to Alien life being weird. Still, if he wanted to mark down peeper sleeping habits he needed to make sure this one wasn’t just congested.

Inching closer, its bright yellow eye snapped open. Darting away like a bolt of lightning before Danny got the chance to poke it. That didn’t look like a sickly fish? It acted the same as a healthy one. Terrified of everything unless it was trying to rub that weird fluorescent glitter all over you. Maybe peepers were the heavy snorers of this planet?

That’s the explanation he'd stick with for now. And if anything freaky happened later he’d facepalm at the obvious signs of danger. If he wasn’t brutally murdered, that is.

Another reminder chimed the five-minute mark before his Ai-assigned bedtime. Hastily he fumbled with the habitat builder building up a multipurpose room onto his base. He’d like to sleep in an actual bed tonight if that wasn’t asking too much.

Ocean water dripped from his hair when he entered the seabase; pooling down onto the metal floors. There’s no towels to dry him off here. No shower he could wash off in, daydreaming until the water ran cold. Unfortunately, indoor plumbing wasn’t included in Alterra’s survival blueprints.

There wasn’t enough time or power to place down a water filter. Solar panels were too weak to keep the base powered with a water filter running. Oxygen trumped the need for water just like water trumped the need for food. Despite what his teachers said about him, Danny did know how to prioritize! Ghosts just got in the way more often than not.

The room was gigantic compared to the basic compartments. Empty enough that his words held a slight echo; an empty canvas for him to decorate. Unfortunately, he’s got plenty of time to decorate his home away from home.

A timely rescue was a dream of the past. It took a decade to find the planet the Degasi crashed on and that was by accident! So for an unforeseen amount of time, he’s trapped on this planet. Far outside of federation space, stranded on a freaky ocean planet determined to outdo the Bermuda Triangle. This was what they made sci-fi movies about in the nineties.

With a shake of his head, he built a bed. It’s a double bed because he deserves that luxury. A thin blanket was tossed across the foot of the bed, the mattress more like a cot than anything else but who was he to complain? At least it was comfier than the ones in the nurse's office. Plenty of room for him to curl up and make a move toward sweet unconsciousness

… Hopefully, his PDA would wake him if anything was about to blow up.

[pixelmensupremacy]

Hey Hey!! Hope exams were fun! (JK I know they're not fun)

I have an idea for Leon Kennedy Fluffy Smut, for the festive times! If you're down to write it!

You and Leon kissing you under the mistletoe but ends up fucking you under it instead as a Christmas present .

(You can discard this message if you don't want to do this💕) -Vi

A/N: I hoped to post this sooner, but oh well... Either way it was such a pleasure writing this and I hope you enjoy this, Vi!

Summary: The request

Word count: 1.2k

WARNINGS: fem!reader, oral, 18+

divider credit

It was that time of the year again. Snowflakes slowly fell down the night sky akin to an elegant dance of ballet. From the comfort of his home, Leon absentmindedly observed the snow with a warm cup of hot chocolate in hand simply taking in the serene atmosphere of the Christmas mood that had settled in the air.

“Leon.” (Y/N) called out to him, anchoring his attention to where she stood under the mistletoe. Getting what she was hinting at, he approached her with a gentle smile; immediately his hands found their place on her waist, though much to his surprise she slapped his them away.

“Getting a little handsy now, huh Kennedy?” She gave him a cheeky smile. “I have something for you.” She swung back and forth on her tippy toes in excitement.

“Oh really?” Leon raised his brow.

“Ta daa!” In her hands, she held a small box, covered in Christmas themed wrapping paper and neatly tied green ribbon.

“Merry Christmas, dear.” She handed the gift to him and only then did he realize that he had forgotten to get her a present. Guilt washed over his features.

“Thank you, sweetheart, but I didn’t get you anything.” He awkwardly scratched his neck.

“Having you here is the best present I could receive and quite frankly the only present I want.” She rested her hands on his shoulders, bringing him closer to her. ”As once a wise woman said ‘All I want for Christmas is you’.”

“Don’t bring Mariah Carey into this.” The two giggled.

“Now open your gift.” She urged him on, unable to hold back her enthusiasm.

Doing as he was told, Leon opened the package; the blues of his eyes glimmered in childish excitement at the sight of a butterfly knife, packed atop of a deep crimson satin ribbons. Taking a hold of the blade, he appreciated the material of the handle as well as the details carved on it- there were letters. (Y/N)'s initials. The blade itself shone bright, reflecting the multiple light sources in a rainbow of colors that made the appearance of the knife ever so magical. Leon was smitten.

“Thought it was going to make a nice addition to your collection. Plus, it will remind you of me.”

“(Y/N)… I don’t know what to say.”

“A thank you is a start.” Leon chuckled and carefully placed the gift on the nearby coffee table, then his hands found their place on her waist once more.

“Let me show just how grateful I am.” A cryptic smirk appeared on his face, giving (Y/N) an idea of what was to come.

Within seconds, Leon swept her off her feet only to place her on the fluffy carpet beneath the Christmas tree.

“Really? Under the Christmas tree?” She raised her brown at him in puzzlement.

“It wouldn’t be a proper Christmas present if it’s not gifted under the tree.” He said as he began peeling every piece of clothing she had much like he did to his present just mere minutes ago. Heavy sighs escaped past her parted lips, heat rushed through her veins and skin; the (E/C) of her eyes disappeared behind the voids that were her dilated pupils that observed Leon’s every move. Leon stared back at her as he lowered himself between her legs. Affectionately, he massaged the skin of her thighs, starting from her knees and slowly making his way to her inner thighs. With his lips, he traced a path across her lower belly, showering every inch of her warm skin with all of his love and affection; soon enough he reached her labia, where he kissed and sucked on her lips all the while he toyed at her entrance with his fingers. Pushing just the tips of his fingers inside her core, he twirled his tongue at her clit, causing a moan to roll down her lips.

Pleased with how responsive she was to his touch, he hummed against her bundle of nerves, which in return forced another louder moan to escape her mouth. Undoubtedly, her arousal grew; beads of sweat covered her heated skin, her breathing grew erratic and her core dripped with juices that generously covered Leon’s fingers. He hasn’t even begun moving. Closing his lips around her clit, he sucked all the while his fingers slid within her folds with ease. Simultaneously, he worked with both his fingers and mouth until he felt she was getting close to climaxing; her back arched, her whines got louder and more frequent.

“Are you getting close, sweetheart?” His voice came out muffled due his face still buried between her legs.

“Yes.” (Y/N) whined in response as his fingers brushed her most sensitive spot.

“Let me hear just how close you are.” He urged, whilst he purposefully hit the spot that had her seeing stars. She moaned his name.

“Please, Leon. I need you.” Her body trembled in anticipation as her peak was dangerously close.

“Good.” He whispered lowly in her ear, causing bumps to form on her skin and a loud groan to roll down her lips as she felt electric waves wash over her entire form.

“Will you be able to last another round?” She couldn’t even catch her breath, but she nodded eagerly.

Leon took his time undressing himself all the while his icy blues cherished the look of her- beads of sweat, covering her body, glistered underneath the dancing Christmas tree lights, her eyes sparkled with lust and need; she was sight for sore eyes and Leon couldn’t get enough of her. Carefully, as if she was made of porcelain, he prompted his hard dick with her dripping entrance. (Y/N)’s eyes rolled to the back of her head once she felt his cock filling her up to the brim, her walls fluttered as they were still sensitive from her previous climax; her hands wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangled in his dirty blond hair.

Above her, Leon panted; he settled to pace both he and (Y/N) found pleasurable, which he was sure of by how her body responded to his thrusts. Her walls twitched and clenched around him, causing him to whimper in delight. Soon he got lost in the moment; her moaning his name combined with the sound of his skin slapping hers composed a melody that tingled his ears in the most delightful way. Her nails dug into his scalp, which lead to a whimper that escaped past his plump lips. Repeatedly, his name rolled down her lips as she was about to orgasm for the second time. He was close too and the sight of her alone was enough to get him on the edge.

“I’m about to-“ She whined.

“Me too, baby. Me too” He reassured, placing a few sloppy kissed on her neck. Soon his thrusts grew erratic and (Y/N)’s moans louder until they finally reached their high in unison; their fingers knitted together in a tight grip as Leon kept going, riding out their orgasms. Crashing down next to her, Leon gazed at her, taking in her otherworldly beauty that he couldn’t get enough of.

“I gotta say that was exceptionally good for a last-minute present.” She joked once she caught her breath.

“Then you better get ready for your next one, because I’m done yet.” He winked at her.

[burnedbyshoto]

indulge me

indulge me: an arrangement

— Being a secret little girl in the modern world is rough, but it becomes much more chaotic when a classmate of yours offers to be your new daddy dom.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, nsfw, ddlg dynamic, college!au, modern!au, daddy!shouto, little girl!reader, I am not well versed in this dynamic please do not use this as an educational source, dom!shouto, sub!reader, biting, marking, mating press, nipple play (both), spanking, oral, gagging, choking, praise, degradation, little space

word count: 13,547

a/n: this is a commission for @bakusbiatch​ thank you for your endless amount fo patience as it took me 100x longer than ever to write this

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If there was something you knew now that you completely did not understand at the age of eighteen was the entire dynamics of sex. To be fair, after an adolescence of watching porn, reading erotica, and even gossiping between friends, it was, without doubt, that you were entirely clueless about real, healthy dynamics.

First off, the first time you had sex was super uncomfortable. 

There was no break or even space for pleasure to build in because you had been so tense, so awkward that you remained rigid and still the entire three minutes the guy fucked into you. You remember his sweat-soaked body collapsing on top of you, his eyes seeing galaxies in the stuffy, now smelly room as he breathed out a ‘Woah.’

You had smiled at him stiffly, letting his softening dick flop out of your dry vagina and curled in on yourself as he snuggled into you, praising the world and everything around it for this moment. It was without saying that you left his cum stained sheets and ran back home.

Sex sucked.

But that was when you were seventeen and made the terrible decision on fucking your friend with whom you had scary sexual tension. You avoided sex to your best ability after that, not so much as caring to allow anyone to touch you because that was disappointing. Why would you go through that when your fingers sufficed much better? Why go through that awkward tension when you didn’t have any moments of awkwardness when reading smut?!

Audios were better.

Words were best.

But, as one does, you fell in love against your will to a boy just a few months older than you. His smile was soft, and his words were kind, but oh, did his touch drive you hot and mad. You weren’t exactly sure how long you had lasted, how much perseverance you had kept when the two of you would fall onto his (thank fucking god) clean sheets, his strong hands and fingers keeping your hips close to his as you kissed him as if you couldn’t live without his touch.

“Are you… are you ready?” he had asked, his shirt thrown into the abyss of his room and the button of your jeans undone, revealing the simple set of panties you had on. “I don’t want to—”

“I’m ready,” you interrupt him, your body practically burning from the inside out with the desperate need and lust for him to fuck you. “I’m ready.”

He stills, his tongue peeking past his lips before a slow, chilling grin spreads against his mouth.

“Okay,” he nods, “can I ask you to do something, though?”

You, in your desperation to get his dick out of his sweats and buried deep into your throbbing cunt, nod.

“I have a daddy kink… I really, really like the daddy little girl dynamics,” he breathes, palms pressing to your knees and dragging down your inner thighs in a teasing, near authoritative way. “Can we… are you interested in trying it?”

Now, although you had largely avoided sex, toys and fingers weren’t nearly enough to replace the overwhelming need to be touched, fucked, and worshipped by another human being. You had fucked plenty of people who had always claimed to have kinks and fetishes. Most of the men you had in bed who said they had a daddy kink only liked being addressed as daddy; that was it. There was no true dynamic, just a play on the power the title brought them.

So, in the naive, childish way you were, you agreed.

You listened to his every command in bed, thrilled and keened under his praise for his princess, for his little girl, and you ate it up, thanking and praising your daddy. The sex ended with you cumming so hard you went blind for a moment, so dizzy from your high. As the both of you drifted off to sleep, you had no clue when you woke up in the morning he would present you with a little girl starter package made by him for you specifically. It was then that you realized that dynamics were an actual thing, and as he presented you a checklist of kinks, toys, and rules he laid out, you realized that nothing you had ever experienced — real or fictional — could have prepared you for this.

The two of you went through the list and rules together, your eyes widening and face blazing with embarrassment as he described his expectations and needs with this dynamic. You nodded, so completely lost in this entire thing that you agreed with most everything he offered and wanted.

The one rule you did have didn’t necessarily surprise him.

The dynamic was to remain a secret, you asserted, unable to budge on this thought. You could be his little girl, but it was to stay in private, never in public. And he tilted his head in thought but ultimately agreed with a smile. He thought you’d one day stop being in the closet over this kink, and you thought the opposite.

And time moves forward; it’s rigid and unforgiving. Two years into a relationship, a year and a half into the dynamic, you and your daddy break up, and you, against all odds, are left scrambling for a daddy you never realized you needed.

What was a girl to do?

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Your head is angled downward, and the hood that sits on your head is not concealing your face as well as you would have liked. It was without saying that you were a woman of pride. You took great care of what you did, how people viewed you, and how you presented yourself to the world. Most days, you always exited your small apartment as an excellent student who was always wearing properly done makeup and stylish outfits. 

Your style screamed confident woman (not little girl, you absolutely refused to wear anything cutesy in public), and you walked with your chin raised and eyes on the horizon.

To see that you were in sweats, an oversized hoodie, no makeup on, and perusing the store's area made for young girls and toddlers, was a shock. You had made sure to come nearly thirty minutes before closing; no one would be here to accidentally see you, no one could see you in your embarrassing shame-picking for your dynamic. All because your newest daddy couldn’t afford to buy you new things since your old ones had your ex’s name or brand all over it.

This was for the best; you reminded yourself as you haphazardly threw the items within the basket, face flaming as you ignored the temptation to simply stand in the aisle and flip through the sticker book and coloring book you recently tossed into the cart. You were fine; you already had your plan of action on what to say when purchasing these items.

‘My sister is pregnant again, and she already has a kid,’ you mentally rehearsed, imagining an excited smile on your face because you are excited for this imaginary pregnant sister of yours. ‘It’s a present for the baby and the brat.’

Solid.

Perfect.

Beautiful.

Making sure to quickly take note of what was inside the basket, you spun on your heel and marched your way through the empty store to the deserted register.

You kept your head down as you placed the basket on the conveyor belt, easy peasy, you would be fine!

“Found everything you were looking for?” a voice asks, piercing through your mental rehearsal just in case you got questions. 

You blink, head raising up, exposing your face to the person behind the register.

It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.

Checking things out at the register wasn’t supposed to be all that embarrassing. I mean, what could top having to buy pads and tampons from a creepy, greasy old man during your very first period ever?! But you had to admit seeing a familiar face behind the register as he began to scan the items in your cart kinda made it a big deal.

Todoroki Shouto read his name tag, and ‘TODOROKI SHOUTO?!’ screamed your heart. 

Oh, how to describe Todoroki Shouto, well you didn’t even know where to begin.

Shouto was one thousand percent a supermodel that has yet to be recruited. He could probably be a top star athlete, good enough to go overseas if he wanted. He was a genius. Someone who was somehow friends with everyone he came across even though he was a man of few words. 

He stood tall behind the register, the tight black high collared shirt sitting beneath a light blue opened dress shirt. His distinctive red and white slightly wavy hair — all-natural, you believe — pushed back in a way that you would bet to hell and back that he had run his fingers through it. For the past three years in university, you had more than a few classes with this stunning man. You two shared the same major, and he often sat at the back of the classroom, but you were nearly hyperaware of everything he did because his voice was liquid honey and sex and everything that was —

“You can let go of the basket,” Shouto cut through your thoughts, and you gasped loudly, suddenly realizing that you had zoned out thinking about him.

Your hand lets go of the basket, and you slap your sweater-covered hands over your mouth; horror strikes through you like a blazing sword. You weren’t wearing makeup, you were in trash clothes, and you were in front of a man you had lusting feelings over!

NO!

“Sorry!” you squeak, your heart and bile rising up your throat at alarming rates as Shouto merely smiles at you in understanding. “This is all stuff for my sister!”

Shouto blinks, his head tilting to the side as he scans a sippy cup.

“Your sister’s quite young,” he remarks easily, trying not to make you feel stupider—probably.

Tell the lie, y/n, you chide yourself as you shift your weight.

“Ah, well, not actually my sister,” you explain, fingers scratching against your scalp. “My sister is pregnant r-right now, and she already has a little one, so I thought that this would be a good… present?”

Nailed it.

Shouto’s eyebrows quirk, a small smile spreading across his face as he scans the plush doll. 

“That’s very kind of you; you must have a good relationship with your sister.”

“O-Oh yeah, we’re very close.”

“And would you say that this is something appropriate to give to a pregnant family member and their child?”

You froze and looked down at the items you had hastily thrown into the basket.

It was a pacifier, sippy cup, baby blanket, choker, coloring books, stuffed animal, candy, and stickers.

You choked, feeling heat exploding in your cheeks all over again; absolutely not. This was not something to give to a pregnant woman.

“My sister is pregnant,” Shouto explains, definitely sensing your poorly concealed stress, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m the youngest of my siblings, so I don’t really know what to buy her.”

“Absolutely the fuck not.”

Shouto blinked, and before you could start screaming apologies over your rudeness, he began laughing loudly. Your face continued to burn in your utter humiliation and shame, but Shouto only found amusement in this all as he began to place your items away in a bag. 

“What are your recommendations then?” Shouto finally asked, his lips pulled back into an easy, teasing grin. “And that’ll be forty-eight seventy-three.”

You shoved your card into the chip scanner immediately, your gaze everywhere but on him.

“I think you should get whatever your sister wants or still needs,” you quickly say, eyes now focusing on the Approved message on the machine. “Every person is different.”

“I suppose,” Shouto agrees, his arms crossing against his chest, and you have to resist the temptation to ogle at the way his muscles become sinfully pronounced. “Well, I won’t hold you up. See you in lecture tomorrow, y/l/n.”

“Bye!” you squawk, grabbing your bag and racing out.

His eyes burn into your back the entire rush out of the store, but you find that you can’t seem to worry about that. You’re much more elated and somehow horrified at the realization that he knew exactly who you were.

Step zero of who knows how many to get Todoroki Shouto to fall in love with you, complete!

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“So, about the upcoming paper assignment, I’m sure you’re all eager to get started on,” your professor’s voice boomed throughout the lecture hall, his arms folding across his chest as he leans against the podium with an easy grin. “I decided that I would be nice and allow for some partnering up!”

Your eyes widened as excited murmurs exploded through the classroom. 

Partners for a ten-page paper? You were going to thank god almighty. 

But, at the same time, you frowned. This was a class where you didn’t exactly know anyone. It was a course outside of your own major, and with your usual friends not in this class, you knew that you were going to have to go out of your way to find a partner. You withered a bit in your chair, not entirely on board with that train of thought.

“There are an uneven amount of you guys in the class, though,” your professor continued, still sporting that easy grin on his face. “And I decided that instead of having too many groups of three, and because I was so nice to allow partner work, I decided to make the partners. Look at the pinned paper at the door for your partner or partners for the group of three! No, I will not allow trades, and no, I will not allow complaining! Be grateful!”

Hopeful and exasperated murmurs sounded through the room as the professor dismissed the class and frantic movement followed after. Even as old as they were, everyone was desperate and eager to see who a random generator assigned them to. Packing up swiftly, you threw your bag over your shoulder and began walking towards the list. 

You wonder who you were gonna get.

“Y/l/n,” a voice spoke softly, lowly by your ear.

You whipped around — one part startled, a second part curious — and came to see Todoroki Shouto standing slightly behind you. His gaze was at the wall for a moment, dropping only when you were looking up at him. He smiles slowly, and you feel your chest tighten.

Oh boy.

“Todoroki,” you smile, attempting to relax completely in front of him. “Any hopes as to who’s your partner?”

“Well, as long as it isn’t Sero, I think it’ll be okay,” Shouto’s eyes crinkle with his deepened smile. “Last time I did a paper with him, we did it completely high—” you choke, eyes widening at the thought of trying to be eloquent enough to write a paper while high. “—It was terrible.”

“Oh, I bet,” you laugh, arms crossing across your chest as the two of you begin inching forward within the crowd, others leaving with proud laughs, curious frowns, or aggravated groans. “But at least it sounds like it was turned in?”

“It was,” Shouto nods, his teeth flashing as he finally tears his gaze from you. “Oh, would you look at that?”

You hum, eyes squinting as you try to read the list through the many heads before you.

Y/l/n, Todoroki S.

“Would you look at that.”

“Seems like we’re partners,” you laugh, relief and horror flooding your body.

“I’m glad it’s you.”

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So, it was decided that with the two weeks given to write the paper and taking Shouto’s job into account, this paper was to be written as soon as possible. The suggestion of working on it together in the same room and not just through google doc was brought up and agreed upon. So with consensus on that, the matter of where it was going to happen was brought up.

“We can do it at my place,” Shouto offered with a shrug, “my house is pretty big.”

“I don’t have a car,” you interject, a frown on your face — you wanted to see his house. “My apartment is five minutes from campus. Is that alright?”

A smile.

“That’s perfect.”

And so, on a Friday afternoon, you found yourself already apologizing profusely as you walked up the staircase that smelled just a tiny bit of cheese. You warned him about the mess of your apartment. About how not to judge you on any and all messes you might have made on your way out! That you would have cleaned up had you known this was happening!

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Shouto spoke, attempting to ease your anxiety as you push your key in the doorknob and turn it. “I really don’t mind a messy place.”

“Ha, well, this is it,” you say, your face feeling disgustingly warm as you breach the entrance to your small one bedroom one bathroom place. “Leave your shoes right there, and we can head in!”

Toeing off your own shoes, you scrambled into the apartment, eyes wide as you attempted to make sure that nothing was crazily messy or out of place. There wasn’t any dirty laundry or undergarments anywhere? No, good!

Shouto locks the door behind himself, a chuckle at the back of his throat vibrating in his chest as he watches you skirt about. He looks down at the shoes you were wearing, white sneakers, and smirks at how small they look compared to his. He never really thought he was that tall or big, to be honest. It was a decent size for someone from his family, but it amused him greatly to see his things pushed against yours.

He looked back up, eyes landing on your flustered face as you stood by a table in the kitchen area.

“Ready?” he asked, hands shoving into his pockets.

“I believe so!”

And for some reason, probably the very same reason that had him entranced by you, Shouto laughs and steps foot into your apartment.

The paper itself isn’t that hard.

It’s an argumentative piece mostly on a Green Act proposal that was currently being debated within the government body. A paper that was fifty percent argument was something you were elated to have, but the other fifty percent was using sources and articles to further back your point. It was now two hours into the paper writing, takeout filling the empty spaces between the table as Shouto’s laughter and your ranting filled the open air. It was nice; he was nice to hang out with.

“I’m just saying we are nearing a universal climate disaster, and I do not want to be wondering when I will die because some fat old men with huge wallets want to continue getting richer!” you yelled, your chest heaving with your lack of proper air. “It’s dumb!”

“I bet if you grabbed ahold of their favorite toupees, they’d fold and agree,” Shouto teases, his grin covered by the mug he’s currently drinking tea from. “I’ll bail you out of prison.”

“I wouldn’t go to prison for that,” you argue, arms folding across your chest as you shake your head in solemn understanding. “They’d murder me and make it look like an accident.”

“Dark.”

“You know it.”

“I’ll avenge you.”

“You better, or else I’ll blame you for my murder.”

Shouto’s jaw dropped, ready to retaliate with something else, but he was interrupted by a loud call from your phone. You frowned, head tilting as you pulled your phone out from your jean pocket and stared at the screen.

Incoming call from: dd.

“I have to take this,” you say apologetically, standing up as you answered the call. You waited until you were in your bedroom before placing the phone to your head, your heart hammering with the unknown. “Hello?”

.

Shouto heard the click of your bedroom door, and he sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes looked up at the ceiling, momentarily bored now that he wasn’t with you. He wondered who ‘dd’ was and if you were alright. He hoped it wasn’t anything serious.

Grabbing his water cup, Shouto frowned, seeing that it was empty. He looked over at the sink where you had initially filled up the water cups. You wouldn’t mind if he filled it up on his own, right? Shouto pushed back his chair and stood, the cup resting in his fingers as he walked over towards the sink with a light hum.

He filled the cup slowly, not wanting to make too much noise. But as he stared at the drying dishes on your dish holder, he frowned at the sight of the pink sippy cup you had bought from the store last week. It was cleaned, obviously used, and he tilted his head.

Weird.

The cupboard was open, and Shouto couldn’t help but look into the dark wood and startled once again when he took in the neatly folded bib and the nearly innocuous pacifier sitting on top of it. Untouched, undisturbed, but used — definitely used.

Frowning, he took a slow, long drink of his water as he stared out towards the small living room you had. There, sitting on the wood coffee table, was the coloring book you had also purchased. That wasn’t adding up… if they were for your sister’s kids, why were they here? It didn’t exactly seem like the place to be holding them. 

Shouto thought, trying to figure out just why you had all these things for… well, children.

Was testing products on your own a thing people did?

Well, yes, he supposed so, but these were already licensed products. The coloring book, well, he guesses that was a pretty normal thing! Drawing and coloring were everyday stress relieves — his mother often used that to help herself. But a pacifier, a bip, and a sippy cup? The only thing he could rationalize with that was—

“You’re being fucking ridiculous, daddy!” your voice harshly whispered (maybe ridiculed and mocked) from your room, just loud enough that Shouto heard, and his eyes widened.

Oh.

Ohh fuck.

.

.

.

“You know what, this isn’t working,” you scoff, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you roll your eyes to the heavens above. “This was a good trial run, but I’m going to have to end this. This is not what I was looking for.”

“Come on, brat, you know you don’t mean that—”

You hung up, your fingers curled in a fist as you growled lowly at the screen. You wasted no time in blocking the number. What a fucking terrible daddy he was. Didn’t buy you anything, didn’t support you, or help you. There was no dynamic in this relationship. It was just a power-hungry dom with a streak for being called daddy.

A fucking poser at best.

Rolling your eyes, you tossed your phone onto your bed and walked out of your room back to the main area of your place. You looked at Shouto, who was sitting in his chair, his face bored, maybe a bit tired, and his face was concentrated on his phone — he was idly scrolling through it.

“Sorry that took so long,” you apologize, slinking back onto your chair, hands rubbing your face. “I tried to be fast about that.”

Shouto peered past the top of his phone, a comforting smile on his face, “Don’t worry about it; it wasn’t like we were intensely working on the paper anyways.”

You smile, slightly embarrassed. 

“That’s true, um—”

“I think it’s time—”

The both of you spoke over each other clumsily, awkwardly — both of you obviously thinking of something that wasn’t quite in front of you. Your smile feels less forced now, “we’re done for the day?”

Shouto shifts in his chair, his head dropping slightly in agreement, “I think that would be best. We did a lot today, though.”

“We did!” you agree with a laugh, standing up and grabbing the items off the table, assisting Shouto with getting ready to leave. “We’ll meet back up in two days?”

Shouto nods, “that sounds like a plan.”

You help him pack up, insisting that you could clean up the kitchen without his help. It takes a few minutes, but finally, you have him walking out of your place, a light wave on your hand before he exits onto the staircase. You close the door with a sigh.

Jesus Christ.

.

.

Shouto stands in the stairway, his eyes concentrated on his phone where he has a single question typed into his browser.

ddlg dynamics ↳ Let’s talk DDLG, also known as Daddy Dom Little Girl. It’s a submissive/dominant relationship where the dom is known as a “Daddy,” and the submissive is known as a “Little Girl.”

...Interesting.

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Now, you were a pretty paranoid person; you could admit that. 

You didn’t like being paranoid, but you were. Most days, you always triple-checked you weren’t being followed, quadruple-checked you had your school assignments turned in and your things in your bag. With your sex life and part of your social life being introduced to the ddlg dynamic, your paranoia grew even more.

Most people weren’t understanding — they weren’t. They assumed this dynamic was simply calling your dom daddy in bed and getting called princess in return! They always believed that, allowed for that. It was socially acceptable to call your dom daddy in bed, but god fucking forbid any other part of the dynamic come into play.

You remember reading comments in articles about grown women sitting in frilly skirts and diapers as part of her dynamic and watching grown adults tear her apart — skin and bones. That was the reaction you feared, you hated.

There was a reason why you enjoyed sitting in your frilly skirts, in your white and baby pink clothes. You loved having your dom come home, tired and stressed, and ask you, his little girl, to sit on his lap while he distressed. You enjoyed the sippy cups that helped to melt your anxiety, and you enjoyed doing chores under your doms watchful eye.

The praises, the rewards were always so uplifting, and the sex was always on an intensity that made you tremble with explosive satisfaction. If your dom wanted you in diapers, you would negotiate appropriately, and you sure as hell didn’t need a fucking stranger’s opinion on whether or not that was ‘normal.’

But no amount of confidence you had in your dynamic had ever eased the bottomless paranoia and anxiety. 

Hence why after Shouto had left your apartment and you realized in horror that you had left out some damning evidence to your dynamic. The coloring book on your coffee table and the sippy cup that was obviously used were on full display. You wondered for a few hours, nearly spirling with anxiety if he had noticed — if that was why he was partially stiff as he left for the day. You had only managed to calm down when he had sent you a text later that night that he had enjoyed being over and was looking forward to working together the next day.

The praise was needed, seeping warm into your bones as you rolled over in your bed and knocked out.

You thought that you were in the clear. That that was as far as things were going to go, but your paranoia came back the next day in full force as you sat in a group with Shouto.

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“Do you want a sticker?”

That was the beginning of it all.

You had accepted the sticker without a second thought. Your typical barriers down because the lack of a dom in your life was throwing you for a bit. God, you were pathetic. You had smiled brightly, eagerly nodding as you thrust your hands out towards Shouto, waiting to receive a sticker. 

“Good job,” he had said with an endearing smile, “you deserve it.”

It was only then that the weight of what happened settled on your bones, and you froze.

Fuck.

Smiling stiffly, you pressed the sparkly pink star to your shirt and returned back to your assignment, unable to speak up again for some time.

You had hoped that it was going to end there, but it seemed that nothing about your life was going in your favor right now. 

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“Do you have a bedtime?” Shouto idly asked one late night when he was over, and you could not stop yawning to save your life. “I think everyone should go to bed at 10 p.m. on a school night, don’t you agree?”

You had choked on your saliva before disagreeing vehemently. 

“I don’t sleep until… like, um, three in the morning?” you make up, teeth tearing into your lip as you avoided eye contact.

“Such a bad girl,” Shouto murmured, much too low for you to pick up.

“What?!”

“That’s bad for your health,” he recovered with a smile.

“Oh… yeah, I suppose so.”

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“Y/l/n is a sub; she’s a brat about that,” Shouto said to the group you both were assigned to in yet another class the two of you shared.

You had been idly drinking from your coffee cup and was utterly zoned out when he said that. So when you had picked up his words, you nearly choked at the sentence, your eyes watering and your throat burning with your drink and humiliation as the entire table turned to look at you.

“Oh shit, are you okay?!” Mina asked, eyes wide.

“I’m a what?!” you splutter instead, eyes focused on Shouto and your cheeks beginning to burn with unsaid fear.

“You’re a substitute babysitter for your sister,” Shouto remarked, his head tilted as he feigned innocence. “You were telling me about that the other day, remember? Sero is trying to get into the babysitting gig too.”

You wanted to believe him, you wanted so desperately to believe that Shouto was just somehow landing a missile into every paranoid corner of your life without meaning to, but this was getting out of control. This was too on the head, too obvious to not say that he somehow saw your little things and pieced together the dynamic you’ve come to love and thrive in. But you couldn’t fess up; you wouldn’t give yourself to the wolves of embarrassment and shame over something you knew wasn’t wrong.

“Oh,” you say stiffly, smiling over at Sero, “I’m on an app that is used a lot by small families; I can text you the name?”

“I’d appreciate that!” Sero laughs, blissfully unaware of the rising tension between you and Shouto. “I didn’t think that high school girls had some type of business turf thing; they’re scary and aggressive!”

“It’s a serious job for high schoolers,” Mina waved him off, “this is the only thing most of them can do!”

The conversation between Sero and Mina began to drift off as you were staring at Shouto, unable to break the eye contact the both of you found yourselves connected by. You didn’t want to pull away, too bitter and anxious to. You were currently two weeks without a daddy dom in your life, and you knew that you should be able to have a better grasp on your life than this — you knew you couldn’t lean on this dynamic at every point in your life. But you were sad to admit that you were struggling to keep your head afloat. You felt like you were almost drowning, struggling to keep your composure as you needed a play or a simple scene.

But the confidence in Shouto’s eyes that were hidden behind the sheer curiosity and wonder was making your skin itch, making you want to grab him by the collar and bring him in close and demand to know exactly what he was thinking. 

He would not embarrass you.

He would not.

“Can I talk to you, Todoroki?” you asked, practically demanded of Shouto as the group of you began to stand at the table, readying to leave. 

If you noticed Mina’s and Sero’s eyebrows shoot up towards the ceiling, you didn’t say anything as Shouto paused in putting things into his backpack. His head tilted, but he nodded his head, “yeah, about what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile stiffly, tossing your own backpack over your shoulder as you turn on your heel and immediately begin walking. Uncaring if he was following you or not. “Bye, Mina, Sero.”

There’s silence behind you before the heady sound of a chair scraping against the floor is heard and the long, quick strides of Shouto following after you. You exit the cafe you had been in, eyes squinting when the harsh rays of sun fall on your face, but you don’t hesitate or pause even once.

There’s no one outside right now; it’s just you and Shouto. 

You feel him at your shoulder, and you keep your gaze straight ahead, unwilling to look at him just yet. 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” you finally whisper, your voice low and angry. You nearly spat them out at him, utterly humiliated and horrified that you were probably outing yourself should he just be that dense and annoyingly able to pick at your anxiety. “Stop it.”

“I don’t—” Shouto began, eyes wide and screaming of innocence that could make you cry.

“I know you saw my things, and I know you pieced it together,” you cut him off, your lips pursed tight. You suddenly stop in your tracks, tears burning at the back of your eyes as you turn to face Shouto. “So if you have a problem with that, I suggest that you kindly fuck off!”

Shouto stands next to you, hair hastily swept backward, hand on the strap of his bag, and his face telling you that you had miscalculated something. You prayed it wasn’t about how he knew about you being a little.

“I don’t have a problem with that,” Shouto admits, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t think you’re weird or strange or bad for being into the ddlg dynamic. I’m actually… I take part in it too. I was trying to subtly tell you that I was into it as well, and well, I heard that you and your last dom broke it off… I wanted to tell you that I was interested in becoming your new dom.”

You blink.

“Eh?!”

“I’m interested in forming an agreement with you?” Shouto tilts his head; there’s a sense of seriousness to his face, his eyes innocent. “I need a little, and if you’re looking for a dom…”

He lets the silence fill the rest of his sentence, and your mouth gapes open as blood rushes to your face at the straightforward request.

“I… I barely know you!” you splutter, your heart in your ears as you can barely comprehend what was going on. 

Two weeks ago, Todoroki Shouto was practically a stranger. You knew him about as well as a person knew the barista at their favorite coffee shop. Friendly, but not close. Definitely not close enough for you to say that you would allow for him to see you in your little space, for him to give you a list of rewards and punishments — for possible sex?!

“Most caregiver contracts like this are done between people who know even less,” Shouto shrugs, his arms folded across his chest. “You don’t have to say yes now or even agree, but I like you a lot. I want to pursue a relationship with you, and I assumed that this would be a good starting ground especially if you need it.”

Your tongue sweeps across your lips, unable to come up with a single rationale thing to say. 

“I don’t need an answer right now; indulge me, though,” Shouto smiles softly, his gaze dropping for a moment. “Take as much time as you need. We can do a single scene to test it out, and if it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings. Let me know when you’re interested in it, though.”

You can’t say anything; you can only numbly nod as Shouto smiles at you once again.

“Let me know.”

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Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [received Today 23:44]

Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [seen 7 Days Ago 23:44]

You: ↳ Send your points, we can see if we’re compatible. [seen now]

Todoroki S.: ↳ I enjoyed the scene we did today; I hope you did too. I’m interested in making this a real thing if you are too. [received Today 20:44]

You: ↳ I did, too, actually, lol. Um, thank you, first of all! We can work on the contract now. [received Today 20:48]

Todoroki S.: ↳ Okay. I’ve already made the first draft of one; if you’d like to look it over, let me know what you think, and we can edit some things around. [seen now]

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It has been two months since the contract was signed.

Two months.

Two months of Shouto practically living in your apartment with you, a once stranger seeing you at your most vulnerable. He was a steady hand on your back as you slipped into your desired little space, a constant warmth at your side as you went about your day at home. 

It had been weird at first; your anxiety still wouldn’t let up, nearly convincing you many times that this was all but a prank. That Shouto would pull away from you when you least expected it and would expose you to the world. There had been many times where he would hold you on his lap, his arms warm around your back, your favorite stuffed animal sitting on your lap as he promised you that you were wrong.

“Daddy is here to protect you, sunshine,” Shouto murmured in your ear, his warm lips pressing to the small behind your ear. “Daddy would never do that to my baby girl. That wouldn’t make me happy.”

“I-It wouldn’t?” you sniffled, your nose face nuzzling further into his neck as your sobs had finally stopped. 

“No, not at all, sunshine,” Shouto smiled against the crown of your head. You felt his lips press a soft kiss there, his warm hands stroking up and down your back. “Do you remember what makes Daddy happy?”

You blink, your wet eyelashes heavy and sticking together as you peer at his jaw as if it could possibly tell you.

“I can’t… I can’t remember, sorry, Daddy,” you sniffle again, suddenly terrified that he would be upset with you. You were such a terrible baby girl.

“What makes Daddy happy is seeing his baby girl smiling, happy, protected, and safe,” Shouto easily relays, pulling you away from his shoulder, his calloused fingers rubbing the tear streaks that still stain down your face. “I promise that I will never do anything to cause you harm, sunshine. I only want you to be happy; you being happy makes me happy like nothing before.”

There’s no stopping the way your bottom lip trembles with the pleasant weight of his words, the way it warms you from your belly and curls to your toes.

“Pinky promise?” you whimper, somehow out of breath.

Shouto looks at your curved pinky that is extended out for him to hold, to seal the other half of a promise he has no intentions of ever breaking.

Smiling softly, Shouto wraps his pinky with yours and twists it gently, locking the promise.

“Pinky promise,” he affirms, placing a kiss to your knuckles.

.

.

He was so good to you.

So sweet, gentle, patient, and kind.

He tended to spend the night Mondays through Fridays, giving you the weekend to be on your own. He only ever slept in your bed with your given consent (which was every single time), and there was just something about wearing the silver chained choker on your neck that he bought for you. Dainty and cute, nothing too crazy to draw overwhelming attention.

It had a tiny cherry blossom that was engraved with Shouto on the back.

It was a constant and calming reminder of what you had during the day.

The arrangement was going better than you had assumed it was going to be.

Shouto made for an excellent daddy, but there was one grievance you had. With two months of extreme kinship, so many nights of being curled into his side, getting near-daily cuddles for following his orders perfectly, and a few spanks because you were careless even after he warned you — you had assumed that the sexual part of the dynamic would come out. 

You had okayed for him to be able to fuck you, regardless of whether or not you were in little space! You reached your little space more often than not around him because he was so well, but now you were bordering desperation. You wanted your daddy to please you more, to give you the reward you wanted most: his cock.

“I’m home, bunny,” Shouto called out, his voice hinting exhaustion but mostly satisfaction at being home again.

Per your rules and regulations, greeting Shouto with a cheerful ‘welcome home, daddy!’ when he arrived home was a must. It was a clear indicator that not only were you home but that you wished to indulge in the dynamic for the rest of the day.

But you sat at the coffee table wearing an unapproved, not chosen outfit for home.

You were wearing an off-the-shoulder white cotton shirt that was big and soft, pink lace shorts that barely covered your ass but was hemmed with lace and pretty frill. You had thigh highs on as well that were the same pink as your shorts. There was a pacifier in your mouth, your gaze focused on the Disney coloring book in front of you as you colored in Sleeping Beauty. 

You turned your head, eyes looking at your daddy with a vague look of disinterest before turning back to your coloring.

“I said ‘I’m home,’ bunny,” Shouto restated, giving you the benefit of the doubt of whether or not you heard him. Typically you were excited to have him home, going to his side immediately and asking a million questions as to what he had been doing and why he was home so late. 

“Hmph,” was your response as you placed a sticker onto the coloring page.

Shouto’s eyebrows furrowed; he toed off his shoes and began walking towards you, assessing what was happening. 

“Is my bunny mad that I was a bit later than I had promised?” he asked, sitting on the couch behind you, his fingers brushing across your clothes as if he was trying to remember if he had selected this outfit. But the sudden touch that you were craving in a way like no other made your head spin just so, and you resisted the motion of caving.

You wanted to be a brat! Your daddy should be taking care of all your needs! He promised he would be taking care of you better than you took care of yourself! He should know when you wanted his cock!

“Hmph!” you hrmph again, and you lean out of his touch even though you craved it. 

Although you couldn’t see him, you could feel the slow, calculating blink Shouto took at this action. There’s a moment of silence before the couch sounds under his shifting weight. You freeze at the feeling of his warm palm on your spine, a whisper of danger. It feels partially like a threat, a reminder of impending consequences.

“What did daddy say about bunny using her words?” Shouto asks, his voice stern, low, commanding. 

It should scare you, but the threat in his voice makes your heart stammer and your cunt wet. So, instead of doing what’s right, you stand up, ignoring him yet again as you stick your nose up to the ceiling and try to walk away. 

Well, you try to, that is.

Before you can go too far, Shouto’s fingers are wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place.

 “You know I don’t like it when you don’t speak, right?” Shouto asks, his eyes digging into your cheek as you refuse to look at him. Yet another rule he has in place. You had to look at him when he spoke to you or when you spoke to him. It was to help make sure that you behaved properly in public — to make you the best baby girl ever. “Use your words and look at me, princess.”

The word princess rolled off his tongue, and you bit down on your tongue to keep the breathy moan from expelling from your lips. He typically only used princess when you were on the verge of genuinely displeasing him, when he was warning you one last time before a punishment was given. Your daddy was two months without jacking off, exhausted from work, and now dealing with you, his bratty baby girl. There was no way this wasn’t going to end with him forcing you to suck him off or to use you as an onahole (something you had said was okay unless you used your safeword, of course).

You shook in his hold, teeth biting your lip as you stared at the wall, refusing to heed his command.

“I’ll give you to the count of three to look at me and address me,” Shouto says, his thumb stroking the innard of your wrist. “One.”

There was no way you would cave.

“Two.”

The silence between the two of you was heavy.

“One.”

Excitement shot through you at the thought of him finally fucking you into your mattress.

“No dessert tonight,” is what Shouto said instead, and you froze.

You whipped your head towards Shouto, fury, and humiliation painting your face as your jaw drops, the pacifier falling onto the floor.

“No!”

“No?” Shouto repeats, his eyes narrowed, unhappy with the challenge. “Do you want me to take away your video games too?”

“No!” you shriek, hands clawing at your face because this was not going the way it was going. “I want my dessert and my video games!”

“Too bad, princess,” Shouto states sternly, unaffected by your growing tantrum. “You lost them both for tonight.”

“No! Give them back! I haven’t done anything wrong, daddy!” you scream, throwing your arms in your hysterics as Shouto stands up to his full height, looming over you without a single issue. Tears prick at the back of your eyes because you’ve messed up somehow; your daddy doesn’t want you — doesn’t love you the way you love him.

“You’ve been misbehaving this entire time I’ve come back home,” Shouto retorts, his other hand grabbing your wrist and managing to place them both close to his chest, limiting your thrashing actions. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the new outfit.”

“I don’t want those punishments, daddy! I don’t want t-them,” you wheeze, your eyes locked on your hands that are bound so tightly in his hands, and you whimper loudly. “You’re hurting me, daddy!”

“And you’re trying to hurt me,” Shouto calmly points out. “I can’t have you doing that, so I’ll hold onto you until you calm down enough. I’m doing this because I care for my little brat.”

“You don’t care! You don’t c-care!” you sob finally, unable to keep the hot tears from your eyes. “Daddy doesn’t care about me!”

The effect is evident and instant.

Shouto’s grip on your wrist lessens altogether, and your pounding fists finally connect with his chest as you collapse against him.

“Daddy doesn’t c-care…”

“That’s not true,” Shouto breathes easily, his fingers brushing against your sides before his arms wrap around you. “I care so much for you, baby. What’s wrong? Tell me what I can do to make things better.”

A loud sniffle emits from you, and you fist your hands in his shirt, your head shaking. 

“It’s been two months, and daddy won’t let me have his cummies,” you whisper, terrified that he would reject you. “Am I not good enough? Attractive enough that daddy wants to reward me with his dick?”

There’s a shift in the air.

“My little doll wants her daddy’s cock, is that what?” Shouto murmured against the top of your head. “My precious, innocent baby girl wants something filthy like that.”

“Mmn,” was all you could manage, your face burning at the implications, the suggestion in his voice. 

“And instead of using her words, as we practice, she decided to act like a little brat to get her way,” Shouto’s voice is low, raspy, and deep. Its tenor is just right that it makes the room instantly hotter, your body brimming with excited energy. “I think… my beautiful doll has broken too many rules for me to just give her a good reward. She deserves to be my little doll as punishment for now. I thought she was grown enough to ask for things she wanted.”

You gasp as Shouto’s warm, calloused hands drop down to the minimally exposed flesh between your booty shorts and your thigh highs. It sends an entire wave of goosebumps down your skin, and you shudder as they rise upwards, slipping under your shirt and resting on the soft skin of your stomach. 

“Your punishment will be what daddy wants it to be, doll,” Shouto states, his fingernails brushing over your clothed nipples, and you mewl at the touch. “You’ve given up your right to speak right now, and because daddy can’t trust you to not be a brat, you will suck daddy’s dick until I see it fit. You will stand on your knees like the beautiful doll daddy knows you can be. Silent, obedient, and so beautiful.”

The words are a goldmine you’ve wanted to hear this entire time, but you’re upset — rightfully upset — that it took your daddy so long to figure it out! He needed you to spell it out for him to act on it!

“I don’t like sucking dicks!” you complain, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “That’s yucky!”

Shouto raised an eyebrow at that, his eyes flashing dangerously as he absorbed the implications of your actions. He knew he was going to earn this just as much as you were.

“Excuse me?” Shouto says calmly, a single eyebrow arched. “Do you want to repeat that?”

“You heard m-me,” you stammer, trying to remain steady under his steady stare. “If daddy couldn’t catch that, maybe I should be the one giving out the punishments.”

A hot, predatory smirk pulls across his face as his grip on your wrist tightens, and he yanks you just slightly closer towards him.

“Oh really?” he chuckles so coldly you shiver. “So you think you’re in charge here?”

You nod slowly, your pupils wide and blown. Your eyes were transfixed on his mouth, his pretty plump lips practically calling your name. 

His tongue swipes across his front teeth, and you watch him in awe, horror, and damning horny anticipation as he sits back on the couch and takes you down with him. You struggle for a bit, terrified as you feel unbalanced, ready to tumble to the floor. But your stomach is pressed heavily against his knees, pleasurable discomfort spreading through your body as you recognize this easy, beautiful spanking position. 

“I’m going to give you ten spanks,” Shouto announces, his hand rubbing smooth circles over your soft shorts. “You will count every one of them and thank me for each one. If you mess up, if you misbehave, you will get more until you do as I demand.”

You struggle against his hold, thrashing and twisting as his fingers push the shorts higher up your ass, exposing your flesh to him. But as he did so, you remember that you’re not wearing panties, and Shouto sees that too.

“Mm, you’re not wearing panties,” Shouto says, his voice trying to keep the undying want and lust from bleeding through his tone. “My precious doll is that desperate she couldn’t fully dress herself?”

“I can d-dress— aahhh!!!!”

Your interjection was interrupted by the sharp, well-practiced spank that Shouto delivered to your round ass. You arched against his lap, your skin tingling and feeling pathetically good. 

“I said you were my doll right now, and dolls don’t speak unless given permission to,” Shouto clipped, his hand circling your now tender flesh. “You didn’t count, so let's try again.”

SLAP.

“Oh my god!” you shriek at the contact, your head spinning at the craved touch. It wasn’t like his typical spanks, the ones that came down not to hurt but to remind you, to correct you to be better. These stung with power, reminding you that you were getting what you craved, and you felt your toes curl and your cunt beginning to seep with the knowledge.

Fuck, you wanted this.

THWACK.

“Again.”

THWACK.

“Daddy can spank your pretty little ass all day, doll. Do as you’re told if you want daddy’s cock.”

SPANK.

“O-One, thank you, daddy!”

WHACK!

You threw your head back at the sensation, your eyes crossing and your hips bucking backward as you shriek with pleasure. You don’t count, your head swimming with unfound energy, and Shouto tsks.

“You’re so terrible at following directions, aren’t you?” Shouto asks, his mouth hovering by your ear, and you nearly melt when his teeth tug at your cartilage at the same time he serves another heated spank to your perky ass. “Such a dirty brat, getting off on her punishments. But let me tell you, if you don’t start following what I instruct of you, I’ll fuck your mouth and leave you without any cummies.”

You gasp loudly, sobbing as he delivers yet another solid spank for your undoubtedly bruising ass. And so, with a pathetic, desperate nod, you agree.

You count to ten, thanking him each time with a beautiful sob that makes the bulge in his pants obvious to you. Your lips are swollen, bruised, and sheen with saliva from holding back your louder sobs. Your ass seems to be imprinted with the shape of his hand against your skin, and you tumble off his lap at the final thank you.

There’s slick gathered on your shorts, soaking through the pretty pink fabric turning it dark. 

“I forget that my beautiful baby girl is a masochist,” Shouto sighs as he stands up in front of you. You gasp on the floor, your head swimming with the building heat between your legs, and you hear an all too familiar, always exciting, sound of a belt being undone followed quickly by a zipper and rustling fabric.

“God, you’re so wonderful, doll,” Shouto sighs as he pulls out his hardening cock to where you’re already on your knees with wide, curious, hopeful eyes. “Already on your knees, ready to choke on daddy’s cock even though this is a punishment.”

You can barely register his words, your eyes focused and fascinated — scared almost — of the cock Shouto has. It’s fucking huge, and it’s thick, slightly curved upward with a pretty flushed tip and bulging veins. You were sure if you could even manage to take more than a few inches in!

“I think I remember something about how you don’t like deep throating,” Shouto hums contemplatively. You freeze, your heart stopping for just a moment at what he’s implying. “Well, it’s a good thing this is a punishment.”

His fingers press into your mouth, making you choke, and with your lips spread wide, mouth open for taking, Shouto guides his cock into your parted lips with a dangerous moan. 

There's an immediate ache in your jaw, the size, and girth of his cock overwhelming you without so much doubt. You gag immediately at the weight of it pressing on your tongue, filling your mouth. Heat hammers in your cunt, and you heave against him.

Shouto sighs as if he was in heaven, his hands grabbing the back of your head and slamming your head as far down his cock. So far that your nose brushed against the skin of his stomach, before pressing against it completely. 

Shouto moans louder than your panicked gags and chokes, his hips swirling and twisting as he looks down at you with lovesick eyes. “You’re so good at this,” Shouto praises, his fingers wiping away the tears that prick at your eyes. “So good.  Daddy’s so pleased with you, taking my cock so well. So beautiful even when you cry on my dick.”

Your throat spasms around his cock, your lungs burning severely from the lack of oxygen. Not a single part of your body able to relax as you desperately sought to breathe. It hurt, but it felt so good. Saliva began to pool from the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin and drooling on your clothed breasts.

Shouto took notice and hummed contently.

“Daddy’s going to count to the number ten,” he informed you, rolling his hips further into your mouth, shoving his cock even further down your throat than you thought possible. “If you can keep your pretty nose pressed to daddy’s stomach the entire time, daddy promises you he will give you the best orgasm you’ve ever received.”

You made a squeaking noise around his cock, your fingers that were buried into his shirt gripping tighter as he suddenly lets go of your head.

“One.”

Resisting the urge to pull off him completely was a near-losing battle.

“Two.”

Your body shook with intensity, the scorching need to properly breathe slamming down on you.

“Three… four…”

Shouto’s hands began to pet your head, soothing the worried lines on your face, brushing away your tears.

“Five… six… fuck, you’re so gorgeous, baby girl.”

You whimper around his cock, and Shouto moans liquid gold in return. He smiles deviously, fingers brushing down your throat.

“Seven… eight…” you choke loudly when his fingers press against your throat, tightening your already spasming throat around his cock, furthering the burning sensation all throughout your body. “Nine…”

You look at him with pleading eyes, wordlessly begging for mercy, for something as he pauses for more than a second between nine and ten. His hips lazily jerk into your mouth, his free hand combing his hair back, messily styling it as he smirks. Your saliva was dripping uncontrollably now, pooling at the back of your throat, on your tongue, past your lips. Shouto sighs, his eyes bright with power, with the knowledge that you were so obedient.

“Ten.”

Immediately, you collapse from his cock. Saliva and pre-cum connecting your coughing mouth to his hard dick still. Your lungs ache, and your breathing is frantic as you try to regain a sense of composure. Your tears meaning nothing so long as the inferno between your thighs is tamed. 

“You did so well, baby girl,” Shouto praises, and despite the pain in your lungs, you puff up at the praise. “You did exactly what daddy asked for you, so daddy believes you deserve a reward. Do you agree?”

Unable to speak, your belly tight and warm, and your throat aching slightly, you nod eagerly.

“Use your words, angel,” Shouto coos; he steps out of his pants before squatting before you, his fingers grazing your chin. “Daddy loves it when he hears you speaking.”

“I would love a r-reward, daddy,” you whimper softly. 

Your eyes swim with want, with inexplicable needs and desires. Shouto softens when he notices you nosing into his palms; he brushes a strand of hair out of your face.

“Look at how politely you asked that,” Shouto praises, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth. “Daddy’s so proud of you, sweetheart.”

You keen some more, your wet eyelashes batting in your excitement and undying love for him.

“Now, daddy wants you to go to your room and take off all the clothes you want. Once you’re ready, I want you to call me in, and then daddy will take excellent care of you, okay?” Shouto commands you, his lips pressing softly onto your cheeks, eyelids, and finally softly onto your lips.

You gasp loudly at the touch, your eyes wide but looking incredibly drunk at the touch.

“Okay!” you giggle, pressing forward and taking his lips into another kiss.

He hums before assisting you to your feet, and you breathlessly laugh as you turn around and skip away towards your room. 

Your room is neat, as is required of Shouto. Your bed is neatly organized; there’s nothing on the floor or on your chair. Everything is put away correctly and cleanly. Grinning, you take off your shirt followed by your bra, shimming off your shorts, you toss away your clothes into your hamper, leaving only your socks on.

Hopping onto your bed, you grab a stuffed animal before turning to face the door and sing.

“Daddy, I’m ready!!!”

You squeal after saying that, excitedly staring at the closed door, eagerly anticipating the way Shouto would walk in. Your eyelashes flutter when you see the doorknob twist and in comes Shouto, who, unlike you, is completely naked.

Now you knew he was fit, even with your mind beginning to sink into your little space, you knew that Shouto was a handsome, fine man. He was built, muscular, and toned. He was tall, his head nearly hitting the top of the door if it wasn’t for the fact he was leaning against the doorframe. There is a slight smile on his face that screams of his pride, his joy of seeing you like this. And his eyes rake like hot coals against your body.

You shudder.

“Aren’t you cute,” Shouto murmurs, pride evident in his tone. He walks towards you, tongue slipping between his lips as he reaches the foot of the bed. “Such a beautiful princess, but now… what does princess need?”

“I need my daddy to take care of me,” you whisper, eyes hooded and mouth turning dry as he begins leaning onto the bed. “I want my daddy.”

“Such a dirty girl,” Shouto says with a chuckle as you begin to lean back onto your bed, your legs spreading for him. “Such a dirty, gorgeous girl.”

Your breathing stutters as the bed moves under his weight, and you’re practically panting as you watch his body slowly crawl over yours. Shouto looks down at you, his eyes deceivingly bright even with the shadows, and your eyes flutter as he leans down. 

You’re expecting a kiss, craving the feeling of his smooth, plump lips on yours. But you gasp in shock, betrayal, and in lust when his lips press against your earlobe. He trails his kisses everywhere, kissing every inch, every centimeter of your face, but never once your lips.

“Daddy, stop teasing!!” you whine loudly, feet kicking on the mattress and hands burying into his hair.

“I’m not teasing you,” Shouto objects, but the grin on his face says otherwise. “Why do you think I’m teasing you? What do you want?” 

“I want daddy’s kisses! Give me your kisses!” you cry with a pout.

With a burst of cheerful laughter that warms your heart and makes your belly flip, Shouto presses downward, capturing your lips with his. The contact is blissful, everything and more that you need. You eagerly kiss him back, making noises that are both sinful and so blessedly innocent as your arms wrap around his neck.

Shouto kisses you back with matching intensity, one elbow resting by your head, the other resting on your hip as he allows your tongue to press into his mouth. He lets you greedily take what you want, his thumb on your hip drawing nonsensical pictures. But as you shudder against him, completely overwhelmed by this all. Shouto probes his tongue into your mouth, gliding his wet, hot muscle against the roof of your mouth and the back of your teeth until your panting, unable to do anything but absorb him.

“So pretty, so cute when you’re like this. A beautiful doll for her daddy,” Shouto whispers into your mouth, and you can only moan in response. 

“I need daddy,” you speak, your glazed eyes unable to even look at Shouto. “I need daddy so bad.”

“Where does my princess need me?” Shouto speaks, his lips trailing down your slick chin and neck. “Right here?” he asks, sinking his teeth onto your neck and sucking softly.

“A-Aahhh~,” you shudder, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to place hickey after hickey on your neck, your collarbones, and the spot right behind your ear that makes you melt. “Yes, I need you everywhere… I need daddy’s mouth and cummies in me.”

“Your boobs are so cute, baby girl,” Shouto whispers, and you nearly jump out of your skin when you notice that he’s nosing against your breasts. “So pretty, better than anything I could have hoped for.”

You whine loudly, your body arching off the bed as his hot tongue dips out and licks a pebbled nipple. You pant as he licks again, your fingers burying into his hair.

“Such beautiful nipples, you make your daddy so happy,” Shouto praises, and you gasp loudly as his mouth envelopes your nipple. Your cunt throbs with intriguing want, your socked feet traveling up the line of his leg as his teeth graze and move your nipple in his mouth. “You make me the proudest daddy ever.”

His fingers card down your stomach, trailing and lingering around your cunt, and yet never once touching it. It’s tactical, teasing, and mind spinning. Your clit spasms with needed attention, angry with the teasing, desperate for contact — for attention. You make a noise, something not quite human, unable to pull yourself from your growing fuzzy head as Shouto moves from one nipple to the next.

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Don’t tease me, daddy,” you whisper, hips circling, thrusting into the air where you wish his fingers were.

“Okay,” he promises, and as if he could read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your untouched yet demanding nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest once again feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, warm tongue, and spit sinking into your nerves. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name. And when you thought the teasing couldn’t get worse, his fingers finally land where you want it most.

On your clit.

“You’re perfect, angel; I love you so much.”

It happens then, like a warm blanket being placed over you — comforting, warm, making the pain in your body hum with only pleasure, and your body trembles with peaking need.

“I wanna… I wanna do more,” you coo, eyes heavy and feigning intoxication as you look up at your daddy. “I wanna please my daddy!”

Your daddy blinks at you, head tilting before a knowing look flashes across his eyes, and he smiles softly, fingers abandoning their spots to press gently against your cheeks. You don’t even mind, so excited and happy that he’s holding you.

“What do you want, sunshine?”

“Can I please suck daddy’s nipples?” you ask with a hopeful face, “He made me feel so good, and I — I wanna make my daddy feel good too!”

“You wanna suck daddy’s nipples? Okay.”

You giggle loudly as the world spins, and you gasp when you’re suddenly sitting straight up, your wet cunt pressing against his hip bone. You laugh lightly, a bell-like giggle, and your hands press to his chest. “That was so fun!”

“Was it—?”

Your daddy can’t finish his sentence because you caught sight of his dusty brown nipples and launched forward, capturing the soft tissue in your mouth. 

It tastes like your daddy, the salt and unique taste he has. And your tongue lashes at it, your cheeks hollowing as you suck at it some more. It hardens in your mouth, a sensation that has you breaking away from him with a beautiful gasp.

“Am I doing a good job?!” you ask, looking at the pretty pink flush on your daddy’s face as he heaves slightly, flustered and a bit out of breath. “My nipples do that when you do a job, daddy!”

“You’re doing so well,” your daddy informs you, and you laugh excitedly. “Do you want… do you want daddy’s cock now?” 

“Daddy’s cock?” you question, heat rushing to your face at the naughty word. “W-What does that mean?”

“Daddy’s cock is how I can make you feel good,” daddy explains, his fingers trailing up and down your thighs, playing with the hem of your socks. 

You giggle as he snaps at it playfully.

“You’ve been doing such a good job, sunshine, and daddy’s cock hurts and wants to be in you.”

“In me?”

“Mmhm, and when it’s in you, you can get daddy’s cummies,” daddy smiles softly. “You want daddy’s cummies, remember?”

You think about it, unsure if you had wanted it, but then you remember that you had said it.

“Will daddy’s cummies help me? My stomach feels funny, a-and I feel wet.”

Daddy nods fast, his body shifting so that he’s in a sitting position and your wet chest presses against him. It’s a sensation you’re unfamiliar with, and you make an embarrassing squeaking noise at the feeling.

“I promise it’ll make you feel better, sunshine.”

You think about it some more, your arms wrapping around his neck as you think. But soon enough, you find yourself giggling and nodding, “I trust my daddy!”

“I’m so glad you do. Daddy’s so glad his baby girl trusts him.”

And the next thing you know, you’re back on your back, and your daddy looms over you, spreading your legs wide apart. You look down at gasp at the sight of daddy’s cock.

“It’s so big!” you shriek, “Where is that going, daddy?!”

“This is going right… there,” daddy emphasizes, pressing two fingers into a part of your body that has you speechless. It’s an intrusion you’re almost unfamiliar with, and yet it makes your head spin and your body hot with need and action from him. “I promise it’ll feel so good; I’ll make you feel so good.”

“O-Okay,” you whimper, watching your daddy pull something against the length of his cock before pressing the swollen head to the entrance that made you feel funny in a good way. “I’m ready, daddy.”

“I’m so glad,” your daddy smiles, and with a gentle kiss to your temple, he presses his cock into you.

“DADDY!” you shriek as his cock pressed into you, filling you out and stretching you out completely. The sensation is overwhelming, piercing pleasure slamming through your body as your arms and legs wrap around him in a vice-like grip. 

Daddy’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in close as his hips begin rutting in and out of you. The sensation, the rhythm, is constant and is intoxicating. The creak of the mattress and the loud, grateful cries of your mouth into the crook of his neck fills the room. And then he shifts you just a bit, his hips able to thrust further, more profound, into you, and a wanton, nearly voluptuous noise escapes your mouth. 

“Kiss me, daddy!” you cry, head thrusting back into the mattress, pleasure saturating so deep in your brain you can’t think anymore. “Kiss me, please! Kiss me, kiss me, kissmekissmekiss—”

His mouth is over yours, hot pants and wrecked breathing is passed between open parted lips. Your tongue pushes against his teeth, unable to find his tongue as your hips swirl and thrust up into his thrust cock. Every thrust sends daddy’s cock deeper into your pulling, demanding cunt, stretching you out, sending you further out in an unimaginable way. Your walls spasm uncontrollably, clenching and tightening without a single input. 

But soon, daddy’s shifting up onto his knees, and you can only wildly cry out for him when his arms shift from keeping you close to pressing behind your knees and shoving your knees into the mattress by your shoulders. The most primal, deranged moan rips from your mouth as the stretch sends his cock to a place in your cunt you never could imagine existing. You shake like a child against him, fingers scraping at his back, tearing his skin as your heels dig into his back. The head of his cock buries and brushes against your cervix, making you cry and see colors you’ve never seen before in your life. Your praises for your daddy are endless, and his powerful pounding sends the headboard of your bed crashing against the wall harder and harder.

“How are you feeling, bunny?” Daddy grunts, his face contorted with pleasure and the need to look at you. “Do you feel my cock in you? Can you feel daddy’s cock hitting your cervix?”

“D-Daddy, I-I — ohhh my god!” you sob, your hips pathetically rutting up and down against his cock, stupidly furthering how deep his cock can go, your cervix melting with pleasure, making you oh so dizzy. You can only blabber. “Daddy’s cock is so big, it’s so good! It’s making my stomach feel so funny! I’m so scared!”

“Don’t be scared,” your daddy pleads against your neck, though his speed and strength doesn’t lessen. “Your stomach feeling funny is a good thing; it’s supposed to happen! I promise you, this is how it's supposed to happen. Okay?”

“Okay, daddy, okay, okay, okay,” your voice lessened to a senseless babble. Your sentences blurring together, and your cheek pressed into the mattress, and drool pooled from your lips. 

His pace is completely irreplicable now; every maddening powerful thrust of his hips sends the headboard into the wall. The wet slapping echoing throughout the room when he pierces into you almost drowned out both of your senseless cries. 

It almost scared you, the sensation foreign, but his gentle reminder that this was normal, that you would be okay, kept you from spiraling. Slick erupts in your cunt, an overwhelming heat that throbs right in your core, coating your thighs and your stomach, and with every slam of his hips, it grows only more. 

Intensifying. 

Exhilarating. 

The temperature of your body sizzles off you in immense heat. His lips press against yours, a maddening escape of lust and need exchanging between your parted lips. Your saliva is everywhere, covering both of your faces — connecting them even when you part. But that didn’t stop him; it only fueled him to kiss you entirely, wordlessly praising you, engulfing you with his mouth, daring you with his tongue.

You were barely keeping up with his snapping hips, your mouth begging for more when he suckled on your tongue.

“It’s feeling so funny!” you suddenly cry as your daddy’s fingers pinch and rub against something between your legs that sends electric waves throughout every nerve in your body. “I feel like Imma pee, daddy! I can’t stop it! I can’t stop!”

“It’s okay, let it happen,” your daddy grunts into your ear, and with that, the calming steady of his voice, you let the heat, the tightness in your stomach you feel like is piss, slam through you. 

A tingling, white noise power sensation slams through your entire body. You arch into your daddy, your scream dying on your tongue as your body thumps with a full-body heartbeat. It sends your toes curling, your fingernails scarring his back, and a pathetic, pleasure-derived sob released into your daddy’s sweaty neck. 

His thrusting keeps up for a bit, letting your clenching and relaxing cunt finish him until his thrusts border sloppy, and with a final thrust that has your fingers trembling, he stops, collapsing onto you.

You don’t know what happens next, only that for one moment too long, it’s silent with only heaving breathing and incredibly warm body heat. Your eyes close, and you’re out before you even know it.

.

.

.

You open your eyes to a dark room.

Shouto is next to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he holds a wet, warm cloth to your body, gently cleaning you up.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, your voice scratchy and nearly blown. “Did I drop and pass out after cumming?”

Shouto jumped at your voice, looking up at your face with a tired but satisfied grin, “You did.”

You laugh softly, not quite humorlessly, not entirely because you were amused. You sit up, groaning at how your lower body screams in pain; well, it seemed that your drop really did hide any pain.

“That was fun,” you grin, eyes closing as Shouto presses the cloth to your neck, cleaning the sweat and saliva there. “Glad I decided to speak up on that — ow!”

You pouted as Shouto retreated his pinching fingers from your ribcage.

“You didn’t speak up; you acted out and then spoke up,” Shouto chuckled, sighing as he leaned backward, allowing for you to stretch your tired limbs.

“I still managed to say my truth,” you grin, taking the wet cloth from his hands and focusing on his body. Shouto sat there, still and silent, as you gingerly cleaned… everything off him.

“Well, if we’re saying our truths, can I ask something?” Shouto murmurs, so unlike his typical confident demur. You pause for a moment before nodding, continuing to clean the broken skin on his body. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? I-I know this is cheesy and all, but I feel like I want you outside of our arrangement, outside of the dynamic.”

You can’t help but laugh, making Shouto look panicked, even if for a bit.

“I thought I was the only one.”

.

.

.

“Sero, psst, Sero!” Mina whispers loudly, hitting her friend in the back of the head with an eraser.

“Shit, what?” Sero hisses, a slight annoyance in his face from being hit.

“Look!”

Sero follows Mina’s pointed finger over where you and Shouto sat, in the middle of your own world despite it being smack in the middle of the lecture. He scanned your bodies more intensely and froze at the sight of purple and red bruises on both your necks.

“Is that—?!”

“YES!!!”

“HOLY SHIT! WE CALLED IT!”

“Sero!” boomed the voice of Aizawa, their scariest professor ever. “Is there something you would like to share with the class?”

Sero freezes, an awkward smile blooming on his face as he shrugs, “I’m just noticing some hickies today, that’s all!”

There could have been no casualties in this admittance; after all, Aizawa didn’t give two shits about hickies on university students. But the loud, panicked ���shit!” coming from you was undoubtedly damning. 

Shouto snickered, his fingers tugging at the collar of your shirt as his fingers brushed against the collection of bruises, “I think they look nice.”

[luxekook]

when fire meets frost | kth

as part of the christmas with bangtan: secret santa collab

❅ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

❅ genre: second chance romance, exes to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

❅ summary: just like a bad holiday song, you gave taehyung your heart last christmas. only in this scenario, he broke it eight months later. now you’re both back at that same damn holiday party where you first met one year ago and you’re just praying for you and your heart to leave in one piece.

❅ word count: 5.8k

❅ warnings: 18+, cursing, suggestive comments, drinking, DIY mistletoe, light violence, random ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ references, drunk tae (TM), break-up flashbacks, weird humor, hella tension, hella groveling, making out, smut [oral (m to f)], the fluffiest of fluff (borderline cheese...actually...full-on cheese)

❅ banner by: the almighty and powerful maggie @kimtaehyunq​ - who also is the collab host!

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 8:00PM

Taehyung is staring at you. Again. Though you're facing slightly away from him, you know that if you give even the slightest glance over, your suspicions will all but be confirmed. The heated gaze you feel skimming over your body continues as you take a much needed sip of your mulled wine and pray that you get out of his line of vision soon with your dignity still intact.

Seokjin, your best friend and current partner in conversation, notices your predicament and scoffs, “You really should just put that boy out of his misery, (y/n). Scrooge himself would be down to have a foursome with the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future if he was around all this pent-up sexual tension.”

Your red-painted lips curl in a surely unattractive manner that resembles something between a grimace and a grin. You’ve heard variations of this argument about a dozen times from just as many sources, but Seokjin’s might just be the most absurd.

“I don’t know how or why your brain went right to a ghost-fucking analogy, but I’ve long since given up trying to understand your thought processes.”

Seokjin’s chest puffs up at your words like they incite something he should feel proud of. You sigh and shake your head at him, feeling a mix of exasperation and endearment - a constant haze of comfort you feel around your best friend.

“I’m just saying,” Seokjin continues, completely undeterred by your attempts to divert the conversation onto him, “He’s hot. You’re hot. He’s still into you. You’re still into him. I don’t see the problem.”

“I never said–!” You cut yourself off. He’s baiting you. “You son of a nutcracker. You know full well what the problem is. I’ve told you more times than Yoongi has yelled at someone for getting too close to his precious sound system.

At your words, you both look over to your left where Yoongi is currently chewing out a sheepish Namjoon with a death-grip on his expensive ass speakers.

“And I’ve told you that your reasons are shaky at best, (y/n),” Seokjin sighs, placing his chin in his palm and leaning over to you. He continues with a conspiring whisper, “Just because you’re scared you’ll get hurt again doesn’t mean you should never put yourself back out there.”

“Oh yeah,” You scowl, “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve never been dumped by the boy you love because he ‘wants to explore other options’. And then have to keep being around said-boy because you’re in the same friend group. And then fast forward a few months to when that same boy shows up drunk at your doorstep asking for you to take him back because you’re ‘the only one for him’. Spoiler alert: that’s fucking bullshit. And then–”

Seokjin slaps a palm over your mouth, effectively cutting you off mid-rant. “Babe, you have to stop rehashing this. Taehyung clearly is still in love with you. He looks at you like he wants to fucking eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Besides, Tae hasn’t even hooked up with anyone since he asked for another chance.”

“That we know of,” You mumble darkly behind Seokjin’s palm - your words only a barely audible jumble of syllables.

“Are you accosting my date, Jin?” The voice of your co-worker and close friend Felix meets your ears as you shove Seokjin’s hand off of you. When you invited Felix to come to Jimin’s annual holiday party, you briefed him on the situation - like any good friend would. You needed him there as an extra buffer. While you love Seokjin, he definitely can get swept up into petty drama - namely baseless arguments with Jungkook.

As your closest work friend, Felix knows all about you and Taehyung, and therefore he agreed to be your “date” in exchange for your help in getting him a date with Alicia, the new accountant in your office. You’ve spent countless hours sitting next to each other as desk neighbors and coworkers. Felix is quiet, cute and respectful - not to mention his voice is to die for.

Felix’s hand settles on the middle of your back in completely friendly territory, but you can’t help but feel the eyes on you have ramped up in intensity. You wonder if Felix can feel his hand burning from the heat and almost think he does when Felix drops his hand a second later.

It’s one thing to make you uncomfortable. You’ve learned to stomach that. But it’s another thing to make your friends uncomfortable. And for that you turn and level a glare at that beautiful asshole, sitting at a nearby table with Jimin and still looking at you with those goddamn eyes.

Taehyung shamelessly stares back at you as Jimin prattles on about something in his ear before noticing Tae’s mind is elsewhere. Following his gaze to you, Jimin groans and shoves Taehyung’s shoulder before strutting away towards the kitchen. You watch as Jimin saunters by and roll your eyes when he winks at you when your eyes meet. That one has always been trouble.

When you turn back around, Taehyung is still staring at you. No, this time he’s staring at your body - namely, your ass. You ignore the burst of heat that runs through you and make a face somewhere between a scowl and a glare. He looks up at you without the least bit of remorse.

Your eyes narrow. Your ass isn’t even out! Your green ugly Christmas sweater adorned with real ornaments basically falls to your knees. But then again, Taehyung has always had a vivid imagination - and an even better memory. His mind is like a goddamn vault.

You tug your attention away from your ex and back to the current conversation. But your thoughts wander. You still feel that pull towards Taehyung - that same damn pull that’s been there since you first met him. And that scares the shit out of you.

Flashback: The First Meeting, Last Christmas

You’re perched on the arm of Namjoon’s black pleather sofa (“It doesn’t stain! Can you believe that?” “Namjoon, it’s ripped in seven places.”). Surveying the flurry of friends scattered throughout the cozy apartment, you only see a few people that you don’t know. But something feels different tonight, and you just can’t figure out why.

Did Namjoon rearrange his plants? Did Jimin part his hair differently? Did Hoseok change his outfit - again?  

“A-yo, (y/n)!” Seokjin yells over to you from clear across the room. You’re always baffled at how clueless that boy is to social cues. “Come meet Taehyung!” Your friend continues to yell, practically pinwheeling his arms to beckon you over to his side of the room. You can vaguely make out an unknown figure standing with their back to you, facing Seokjin in conversation.

You sigh. Might as well get this over with before Seokjin decides to start pretending to lasso you over to his side of the room. Or worse - get his actual lasso that he has for some unknown reason. A natural performer that boy is. Getting to your feet, you cross the room. Your heartbeat thuds in your chest and you rub a hand over your heart absentmindedly.

What is wrong with you? Meeting new people always brings nerves, but you never usually feel this out of sorts. You step into Seokjin’s outstretched arm and into the embrace of your best friend. And then you look up at the newcomer.

Hooded dark eyes. Curly black hair. Perfect pink lips. Jawline chiseled by the gods.

Your breath catches in your throat. Words buzz in the air around you but you can't distinguish one from the next. You’re pretty sure Seokjin is making some sort of joke because his sides start to shake and the beautiful stranger looks exasperatedly amused. Yet, his eyes never stray from yours.

His lips part like his breath is caught in his throat.

“Taehyung-ie, don’t be rude! Say hi!” Seokjin shoves Taehyung, jolting you both out of your little staring contest.

“Hi,” Taehyung repeats. Your stomach flips at the depth of his voice. “I’m Taehyung. Kim Taehyung. You can call me Tae. Or V. Or just Taehyung.”

Your smile widens at his ramblings and the rising color of his cheeks. “Hi, Tae,” You can't help but grin up at the adorable, beautiful boy. He really looks angelic under the kitchen lights. His halo of curls frames his face in such a way that makes you want to curl your finger around one and tug.

Vaguely, you can tell that Seokjin is shooting rapid looks between you and Taehyung, looking like some sort of bobblehead in 100mph winds. Suddenly, a Grinch-like grin takes over his face. “Why don’t you crazy kids get some more wine? I need to talk to Yoongi...” Seokjin slips away.

In hindsight, you should have immediately been tipped off that Seokjin was up to no good. Seokjin seeking out Yoongi? Nothing good ever comes from that.

And you were right. Not twenty minutes later, you and Taehyung are both stuttering messes underneath a hastily tapped up branch of mistletoe - at least that’s what Seokjin’s calling it. You think it looks like a clump of grass with a grape thrown in there.

Just as you start to tell Taehyung that he doesn’t have to feel pressured by your lame friends, he cups your face in his hands and lowers his lips to yours.

Fucking magic.

There aren’t fireworks or sparks. There’s a whole blazing inferno between the two of you.

Your hands slide up his back, tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck. Taehyung lets out a small gasp as your fingers tug on his locks, and you slowly slide your tongue across his lower lip.

“Uh, okay… Hello? Hey, guys!”

Finally, Yoongi slams together two pans from the kitchen, jolting you both away from each other in fright.

“Break that shit up,” Yoongi shoots a glare at a grinning Seokjin. “I did not sign up for that level of PDA, Jin.”

“I can’t predict love, Yoongi-ah. I can only bring lovers together,” Jin sighs, clasping his hands over his heart dramatically. Yoongi pinches Seokjin in the side, immediately instigating a fight.

Taehyung reclaims your attention, shyly intertwining his pinky with yours. In the midst of all the chaos around you, he just looks at you like you are the only thing that matters.

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 9:02PM

“I don’t know how you survive when he looks at you like that. I’m practically melting just being in proximity of the two of you.”

Your friend Ciana’s comment pulls your attention away from your demon of an ex as he strides by, leveling you with a calculated smolder.

It’s a look that says he’s going to fuck you up in the best way - the way that used to leave you weak in the knees and covered in hickies. Taehyung’s fuck me eyes are your kryptonite. He knows it. You know it. The whole party knows it. Hence, it makes sense how he’s shamelessly using them any fucking chance he can just to mess with you.

It’s practically a fulltime job pretending it doesn't affect you. And it's a job you are failing at miserably.

You sigh and take a big sip of your drink. “Oh, I'm not surviving,” You confess, “This is just a hologram image of me. I’m practically clear across the country by now.”

Ciana laughs, “Girl, I don't blame you, but I have to say… He looks like he would follow you anywhere.”

You scoff. There was a time where you would wholeheartedly agree. Since your first meeting, Tae made you feel like you were the center of his universe.

After talking all night at Seokjin’s party, you exchanged numbers and within a few days Tae asked you out.

Your first date was to an art gallery. The two of you spent hours there, studying art and exchanging soft murmured interpretations. You would often catch Taehyung staring at you instead of at the paintings decorating the walls, and it made you feel all warm and fuzzy.

The dates continued until Taehyung managed to gather up the courage to ask you to be exclusive - his words, not yours. You hadn’t believed that he could ever have doubted your answer. But in hindsight, you probably should have doubted him.

Things were great for a while. No - they were better than great. They were the best eight months of your fucking life. Until they weren’t.

“Why did y’all break up again?” Ciana asks, pulling your attention to her once more.

You let a bitter laugh escape. “You’ll have to ask him that.”

Flashback: The Break-Up, August

“I want to see other people.”

The words strike you like a serrated blade. The plate you’re washing falls into the sink with a clatter. Your heart stills in your chest.

“What?” For a second you believe that you must have misheard him. Only he crushes that hope into dust within seconds.

“I said I want to see other people.” Taehyung repeats, a bit louder.

“You mean like taking a break?” You refuse to turn around and face him. You refuse to believe that your relationship is crumbling down. Your mind tries to grasp at straws. “Or trying ethical non-monogamy?”

“No, (y/n),” Taehyung sighs, “I mean that I want to break up.”

“But why? I don’t understand.” The tears begin to sting your eyes as you blink rapidly, trying to make sense of the blindside that Taehyung just threw at you. “What did I do? How can I fix this?”

“You can’t, okay?” The exasperation in his voice is palpable. “I’m bored here. I feel tied down. We’re both so young... How can we know we’re right for each other when there’s so many other people out there?”

“Where the hell is this coming from?” You seethe, finally whirling to face him. Taehyung flinches when he sees your tearstained face but you persevere and continue, “I bore you? That’s sure not what it seemed like two days ago when you were fucking me against the wall of that club bathroom.”

“Things change,” Taehyung scowls, “I need to explore other options, (y/n), and I think you should, too.”

Your heart is breaking, a fissure splitting it right down the middle. “You want to explore other options,” You repeat, in a deadpan voice. “Do you already have someone in mind?”

The split second pause Taehyung takes is all you need to know the answer to that.

“Get out.”

“(Y/n), it wasn’t the only reason!” Taehyung scrambles to explain. “We haven’t even done anything yet!”

“Oh, you’re a ‘we’ already? Fuck you, Kim Taehyung.”

“No! That’s not what I meant!”

“Well, I hope you’re happy with them. I hope they don’t bore you or tie you down. I hope you’re right for each other. I hope youre fucking happy with yourself and your decision.”

“Can’t we still be friends?”

You don’t deem that question worthy enough of an answer and slam your front door in the face of the person who ten minutes ago had been the love of your life.

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 10:21PM

The amount of love in the room is making your stomach turn. You watch as your coupled up friends exchange presents and kisses. You’re so happy for each and every one of them, don’t get you wrong. You just can’t help but feel increasingly alone with each passing minute.

Felix notices the dip in your mood and nudges you, “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah,” You snuggle deeper into his side. Thank god for Felix. “Thanks for coming with me to this shindig. It would have been hard to be alone this year.”

“No worries, babe. Besides, how else am I gonna get Alicia to go out with me?”

You laugh at Felix’s words. The boy was oblivious to the fact that Alicia had already approached you to ask if he was single. Sometimes you enjoy your diabolical mind. “Oh, she’ll definitely go out with you,” You reply, pinching his cheek, “Who could resist this face?”

“You did. Three years ago,” Felix whines, shoving your hand away from him playfully.

“Sadly you’re not my type, pretty boy,” You sigh. It truly was sad. Felix is the nicest human you know - besides Seokjin. The fact that you're not interested just reinforces the idea that you have terrible taste in men.

“You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know who you could possibly be referring to,” You sniff, turning away.

“Oh, I don’t know… Maybe the guy that hasn’t stopped circling you like a fucking shark in water since we got here?”

“He has not,” You retort, rolling your eyes.

“A-ha! So you do know exactly who I’m referring to, you little liar!”

“Goddamnit,” You laugh. “I need another drink to put up with you. You want a refill?” You gesture towards his cup.

“Nah, I’m good,” Felix shakes his head. You nod and head over to the kitchen, thankfully seeing no sign of ‘Shark Boy’.

But you spoke too soon, because just as you’re reaching up for a new mug you feel him.

“Is that little boy out there your boyfriend? I didn’t think you were dating anyone,” A rough voice growls from entirely too close to your ear.

You turn your head and shoot your best side-eye at the asshole who’s heated stare is aimed straight down at you. You internally curse at the unfortunate fact that Kim Taehyung somehow still can manage to look gorgeous in a bright red sweater with a whole-ass Santa beard stitched to its collar. You have never hated him more given that you look like a hot mess of a Christmas tree that no one wants to climb.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business, Kim,” You retort, turning around again and grabbing a glass from the cabinet. You can feel his warmth surrounding you as he grabs the mug for you instead, his body pushed up against yours.

“Move,” You order, your voice shaking slightly. But instead of listening, Tae grabs your hips and turns you around, caging you in between his arms.

“See, you’re wrong, (y/n),” His eyes dart from your own to your lips, “Everything that concerns you is my business. It has since the moment I met you, and it hasn’t stopped since.”

The incredulous snort escapes you before you can attempt to rein it in, “Taehyung, you broke up with me! I’m pretty sure that means you consider me old news and - above all - none of your fucking business.”

“And I told you I made a mistake!” Taehyung leans closer, his jaw ticking.

“You were drunk!” You stab a finger into his admittedly toned chest that you can feel even through that abominable Santa beard, “And it took you two fucking months to say that, only to never bring it up again. So excuse me if I find your argument lacking.”

“Fuck,” Taehyung curses softly, running a hand through his mess of curls, “I miss that smart mouth.”

“Yeah?” Your response flies out too fast for your brain to check your words, “Well I miss being enough for you.”

Taehyung looks stricken. “Baby…” He reaches for you but you duck past him and beeline straight for Jimin’s bathroom. Locking yourself inside, you slide to the floor and contemplate your chances of sneaking out the tiny bathroom window just like you did that night some months ago.

Flashback: A Streetcar Named WTF, October

A harsh banging sound jolts you awake. “What the fuck,” You mumble, fumbling around blindly trying to find your phone amidst the blankets and pillows surrounding you.

Finally, your hand locates the small metal device and you switch your screen on. Your eyes immediately shut at the brightness and you muster up the will to peek at the time.

3:12AM.

Who the hell dares to pound on your door at this hour? What is this - A Streetcar Named Desire? Well, slap your ass and call you Blanche because this asshole is about to feel your wrath.

Stomping over to your door, you swing it open and say, “There’s no Stella here, Stanley. Fuck off.”

While you don’t find a drunk Marlon Brando on your doorstep, you do find a drunk Taehyung.

“Who the fuck’s Stanley?” Tae glares, trying to cross his arms but failing somehow.

“Good lord, Taehyung,” You groan, grabbing his arm and dragging him inside your apartment, “You smell like a whole goddamn brewery. How did you even end up here?”

“Walked,” He says proudly while smiling down at your hand on his arm like an idiot. “Who’s Stamplee? I mean, Stangfree.”

You pinch your nose with your free hand. This boy… Ignoring his idiocy completely, you question, “You walked?” You push him down onto your couch and head into your kitchen to grab him some water.

“Yup! All by myself! Are you proud of me? Sandflea could never!”

You jump. Somehow Tae still managed to sneak up behind you while drunk out of his mind.

“Kim Taehyung, sit your drunk ass down.” You jab a finger in the direction of the couch he just vacated.

“But you’re so far away when I sit all the way over there, baby,” He pouts, giving you puppy dog eyes. “And I’m not drunk!”

You don’t dignify his words with a response. Handing the glass of water to the problem currently sprawled out on your couch, you sigh. What are you going to do with him? He can’t stay here… But he’s in no shape to walk back to wherever the fuck he came from.

“Tell me, Kim, why did you think that walking to my apartment of all places was a good idea? I could have moved!” Disdain drips from every syllable, “Is anything going on in that brain of yours? If so, it’s clearly not making any sense.”

“I beg to differ,” Taehyung has the audacity to grin up at you as he continues, “My brain makes perfect sense, baby. You plus me equals three.” His eyebrows wiggle up and down as he swings his hands out, showering you with the glass of water you just handed him.

“Maybe I’ll call you a math tutor along with your Uber,” You mumble as you fight the urge to laugh at the mess of a boy staring up at you from your couch. Grabbing a kitchen towel, you dab the water off of you as best you can. Glancing back down at Tae, you notice his attention has fallen to your chest, where the water he practically threw at you has plastered your tanktop to your skin.

“Hey, eyes up here,” You slap his arm with the damp towel, but he doesn’t even flinch.

“One more minute,” He says, absentmindedly rubbing his arm.

His attention gives you butterflies for a split second before you lock that shit down. You aren’t a fool; you’re fully aware that Taehyung’s the farthest thing from available, but he’s still hot as hell with his muscular stature, his wicked brown eyes, and his full pink lips. And that deep voice… it has shamefully been the fuel of your fantasies for the past few weeks. But that is neither here nor there.

So while his undivided attention always did make you feel fucking incredible, now he’s just a drunk boy who’s acting like he’s never seen nipples before.

“I’m calling you an Uber, okay?” You finally say, grabbing your phone and pulling up the app.

“Can’t I stay here?” Taehyung pouts, “Or will Surley get mad?”

“His name is Stanley,” You automatically reply and then curse as Taehyung lurches to his feet.

“I knew it! Where is he? Where is my replacement? I challenge him to a duel!”

“A duel?” You can’t help but laugh, “On what grounds?”

“For your hand, of course!” Taehyung rapidly glances around your apartment before his eyes land on the broom tucked in the corner of your kitchen. “There’s my sword!”

Before he can take a step towards his ‘sword’, you grab his arm and push him back down onto your couch.

“Wow, you’re strong!” Tae stares up at you adoringly, “And so-o cute. Wanna date?”

“You’re drunk, Tae. Don’t say things like that.” God, he’s going to give you a complex. You had just started getting over him and now he does this? Why is life deadset on fucking you over?

“But I do wanna date you!” Taehyung insists, “Don’t you miss me? Miss us? I still love you. I never stopped.”

“Tae, please stop.”

“I made a mistake, baby, and I wanna fix it. Can you give me a chance? Please?” His brown eyes blink up at you slowly. His lids practically fight to stay open as his words slur together.

The boy is falling asleep. Sighing, you close the Uber app. Looks like you’re housing your ex for the evening.

“I wanna marry you,” He mumbles, “Bought the ring last week. If you can just love me again I’ll be the luckiest…” His words get more and more inaudible. Mumbles about Stanley and revenge and kisses and altars filter through as you place a blanket over his form.

“Goodnight, Tae.” You can’t resist brushing your fingers through his hair. Your heart stutters as he practically leans into your touch like a cat, smiling contentedly.

“We’ll see if you remember this in the morning,” You mutter, setting another glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen on the coffee table for him when he wakes up.

After making sure Taehyung’s on his side with a bucket for potential incidents, you head back to bed.

When you wake up, he’s nowhere to be found.

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 10:23PM

“(y/n)... baby, please let me in.”

The underlying meaning of those six words is not lost on you. Could you let him in again? Taehyung once held your heart and then he basically smashed it on concrete and backed over it with his car - twice.

“Go away.” Your words sound weak even to your own ears.

“No, I need to talk to you… Please.” His voice breaks on the last word and you cave. Standing you unlock the door and back up. You could have a logical and reasonable discussion with Tae and get some closure, leaving all feelings out of it. Maybe...

“Two minutes,” You declare, “Nothing more.”

“But–”

You cut him off, “1:55…” You tap your foot and smile as Taehyung shoots you a look.

“Fine,” He rubs the back of his neck, peeking up at you under his lashes. “I got scared, okay?”

Your disbelief must show all over your face because he continues.

“Yeah, I was scared - fucking terrified of how much I feel for you. How in love with you I am. How can it be that easy to find your soulmate? It didn’t make any sense to me. And then Pia began to show an interest in me and I convinced myself it was a good idea to distance myself from you. To see other people. To try to make sense of my feelings.”

You hold up a hand. “So, you’re saying that you broke up with me because you were ‘too in love with me?’ What the fuck kind of selfish bullshit is that, Taehyung? You broke my fucking heart for someone you didn’t even like because you were scared I was your soulmate? Don’t you see how that just makes me feel like shit?”

Taehyung sinks to his knees. “(Y/n), baby, please. I am so sorry. I fucked up in the worst, most selfish way possible. It kills me that I broke your heart.”

“Ugh, get up, you drama king.” You pull him to his feet, continuing, “Why did you leave after that night? You said all those things when you were drunk and then just left.”

“Yeah, I kind of don’t remember what I said or how I even ended up at your place.” A blush takes over his face, “It’s so embarrassing you had to see me like that and I kind of just wanted to forget it happened. And I really hoped that you forgot it did, too. I didn’t expect you to just keep acting like you forgot my existence altogether.”

“What does that mean? I see you all the time, Tae! We’re in the same friend group for god’s sakes. We’re around each other all the time… Maybe even too much.” You mumble the last few words, but he catches them.

“Too much? You avoid me at all costs! You don’t smile at me anymore. You don’t even look at me most times! It kills me that all I get from you now is ice, when I know you have so much fire.”

His words confuse you. So he does want you back? Your friends weren’t exaggerating? A small burst of hope swells inside you, but the memory of the break-up outweighs it. “You don’t even know me though, Taehyung. Not anymore.”

“No. You’re wrong,” Taehyung leans closer to you, and you take a step back. Your back bumps up against the sink, your plastic ornaments adorning your sweater clinking awkwardly.

Tae brushes a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes begging you to listen, “I do know you. I know that you still take your coffee black with caramel. I know that you started doing yoga but are too proud to admit you hate it. I know that you came to my art show last month but left before I could talk to you alone. I know that you–”

“Stop,” Your voice trembles, “Please, I can’t. Taehyung, you hurt me so fucking much. Don’t you get that? I just started feeling whole again. So if I let you back in and you hurt me, I might shatter completely.”

His hands cup your face gently, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “I won’t ever hurt you again, baby. Please give me one more chance. That’s all I need. I want to keep you forever, (y/n)... I bought you a ring, did I tell you that when I was drunk? I think I did. I still have it. It’s yours - just like my heart.”

“God, you’re still so fucking cheesy,” You can’t hold back your smile even though more tears are falling down your cheeks.

And then his lips are on yours.

Taehyung kisses you like you're the most precious thing in the universe. Like you might break in the palm of his hand if he’s not careful enough. And maybe you will. But for right now, you melt into him.

He tastes like home.

Taehyung’s touch is tentative at first. His hands slide into your hair, tugging you even closer. You feel like you might burst, feeling so many emotions. Love. Fear. Confusion. Hope. You hook your leg around him, wanting him pressed against you everywhere.

Taehyung groans and one of his hands drops down to grab your thigh, wrapping it more securely around his waist. “Jump, baby,” He mumbles into your lips, and you listen automatically.

He perches you on the edge of the sink, kisses you deeply, and then sinks back down to his knees.

“Tae–” You protest, as he runs his hands slowly up your calves.

“I haven’t tasted you in so long, baby,” His dark eyes burn into yours, “Please don’t let me go another minute without you on my tongue.”

Fuck. Well, you can’t argue with that. When Tae sees you open your legs a bit more, he grins up at you and places a quick kiss on the inside of your knee.

His touch becomes more frantic as he moves up, his mouth placing hot kisses higher and higher.

When he sees the lacy red panties you have on, he snaps, lunging forward and hitching your thigh over his shoulder. Pushing your underwear to the side, his hot mouth is on you, closing over your clit without warning. You gasp as he sucks your bud into his mouth, lapping at it with his tongue.

Your hand winds its way into his curls, pushing him harder against you. He moans into your pussy. “So fucking wet for me, baby. God, I love you.”

Taehyung places a soft kiss on your inner thigh before his tongue returns to lick at your pussy, up and down. His tongue sinks into you, making your hips buck against his face. His hand shoots up to steady you as his tongue continues to flick in and out of you.

The sight of the boy you never stopped loving tongue deep in your pussy almost pushes you over the edge already. “Ta-ae,” You moan, hand tugging at his hair, “Harder, baby, please.”

Your words have their desired effect as he replaces his tongue with two of his fingers and places his mouth back on your clit. You moan as his fingers curl inside you, brushing your walls.

The first few strokes of his fingers are slow. Too slow for your liking, “Taehyung, fuck me with your fingers.”

A rumble moves up his chest as he obeys, pushing another finger deep inside of you. “Fuck, baby,” He curses and begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your pussy, “You feel even better than I remember, so goddamn wet.”

His mouth finally returns to your clit, his tongue flicking over it every so often. You’re hurtling towards your orgasm as his long fingers continue to pound into you and his mouth continues to lick at your pussy.

You feel the heat building up and you come with a gasp. Taehyung continues to fuck you with his fingers and his mouth, carrying you through your orgasm until you slump back against the mirror above the sink.

Taehyung grins up at you, licking up everything you gave him. Finally, you gently push him off you. Still licking his fingers clean, Taehyung’s eyes sparkle up at you, “Well? Wanna get married?”

“Oh my god,” You burst out laughing, hopping off the sink onto shaky legs. “Why don’t you start by wooing me? We’ll go from there.”

“Challenge accepted.”

You blink.

Taehyung smiles. His wild dark curls are sticking up in random places - courtesy of your hands. His eyes are full of their usual sinful promises, but this time they also hold excitement and a tiny spark of hope. “Prepare to be wooed, wifey.”

“Fuck off,” You laugh, quickly fixing your hair in the mirror before smoothing down your sweater dress.

Nodding at your semi-acceptable reflection, you swing the door open to reveal just about every person from the party collectively gathered just outside.

“I knew it!” Seokjin shrieks. “Where’s my mistletoe?”

“My poor bathroom!” Jimin cries, “Defiled! Desecrated!”

“Why am I friends with you all?” Yoongi asks no one in particular.

“Well,” Tae whispers in your ear, “At least we won’t have to tell them, right?”

You smile despite the embarrassing situation and nod. This Christmas might just be your best yet.

a/n: sorry that this is late and severely unedited LOL plz be kind, this is my first fic back and YA GIRL IS RUSTY

© luxekook do not repost, edit or translate as protected under this license

[sableseb]

Illusion

Jack Benjamin x escort!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: allusions to homophobia, sex work, smut, rough & quick, spanking, exhibitionism, dirty talk, degradation

The events that have unfolded in the past couple of days lay scattered in Jack’s mind. He paces the expanse of his lavish quarters thinking of how his life went to shit this fast. His mother and father know. They know how he craves the touch of a man. His father told him to hide it, hide the feelings he has and never let them resurface. His mother slapped him for saying he loved another man. He pushed his secret lover away for the sake of his reputation. Now, the whole court is questioning him, hanging his sexuality over his head in case they ever need to bring him down.

His parents explicitly stated that to be King, he must put away his sinful, lust fueled desires for the same sex. This kingdom his father built is based on the Christian faith and what sort of God fearing kingdom would want a King that kisses men? What a joke. It always leaves a bad taste in his mouth and a sick feeling of not being accepted in his stomach.

As Jack looks out of his bedroom window to the twinkling night life below, he makes a decision. To him, being King is above his true feelings. He’ll follow his parents wishes like the good little soldier he always is. He’ll keep up his playboy, panty dropper act for the sake of the crown resting atop of his head one day.

They want a ladies man? They’ll get one, they’ll see he’s worthy of the crown. He may prefer sleeping with men, but that doesn’t mean he has a disdain for the feeling of a cock drunk broad wrapped around him. And luckily for him, his suave attitude and pretty boy face works like a charm each time he needs a quick fuck.

He knows of a night club that’s crawling with bachelors, married men, and even women looking for a good time, with their night ending by taking one of the ladies who work there home and finding pleasure in between the sheets.

Jack pulls out his cell and taps the first number in his contacts. He bites his nails on the hand currently occupying the phone in anticipation for what he has planned tonight. It’s sure to get everyone off his dick.

It rings for a beat before a, “Hello?” cracks through the speaker. 

“Louis? It’s Jack. I’m going out tonight. Make sure all the paparazzi knows. Tell them I’ll be at Pyre.” he says hastily while going around his room searching for his coat.

The line is silent for a moment. Louis knows not to question Jack’s requests when he gets that oddly, erratic tone in his voice. Without a second thought Louis says, “I don’t know what you’re up to, but be careful.”

Jack ends the call and makes his way out of the castle down to the city goers below. There’s a slight chill in the air that goes unnoticed by the people in barely there clothing looking for their next party spot. He brushes through the crowds to his desired destination. Bright, neon colors light up the whole block and to his right, he sees it. Sultry, red cursive lettering spelling out, “Pyre.”

He’s met with flashing cameras and yelling at the front entrance of the club. Good to know Louis is still a worthy asset. He flashes that pearly, white smile that borders boyish charm and slyness. The King and Queen’s son is always a hot topic in the press. And he’s sure that after tonight, he’ll be a hot topic nationwide.

As he steps through the club’s threshold, he’s met with darkness and thumping music. The only source of light coming from the strobes that bounce across the sweat soaked bodies grinding against one another. 

He starts to assess the women and sees you. Clad in a silver dress that falls just below that round ass and heels that accentuate those long legs leaning against the bar stool. You’re perfect. Perfect enough for him to already sport a hard on. 

He makes his way to you with a certain air of confidence that only he seems to possess. He comes up beside you and leans into your ear to, rather loudly, say over the bass, “The name’s Jack. And I’d really love to have some company tonight.”

You turn to face the man that made his presence known and take him in. Oh, so the prince is the one who needs a good fucking. You’d be lying if you said that this moment in time didn’t give you an ego trip. You’ve always thought about what it would be like to press your lips to his perfect pout and stare into those baby blues as he takes you apart ever since he graced the cover of VOGUE.

You smirk into your drink. “I know a prince when I see one, Mr. Benjamin.” 

He figured as much you’d recognize him. All the kingdom knows of him and his risque reputation. 

“Then, I’m guessing you won’t deny a prince of his request? I pay handsomely.” he states matter of factually.

He honestly didn’t have to pay you to do anything he desires. You’d have dropped on your knees in the middle of this club if that’s what he wanted. And little did you know, that’s close to what he needed your assistance for in the first place.

With a hefty transaction and a few drinks, you’re walking arm in arm with Jack to the hotel he rented a room in. You feel like a celebrity. A devilishly handsome man on your right, paparazzi on your left, and thousands in cash sitting nice and pretty in your purse. You just hope he’s a decent lay. You haven’t had one of those in awhile. Most of the men you’ve worked with didn’t even make you cum, always left you high and dry. But, the cash they guaranteed was worth the disappointment.

He walks up to the lobby desk and asks for his key card. As the lobbyist searches for the correct one labeled “Benjamin” your gaze drifts. This place is nice to say the least. It’s sleek and mature. A complete contrast to the man next you with his bright eyes and plush face.

After acquiring the card that’ll seal your fate for a one night stand, you both make your way to the elevator. You decide to make the first move once the doors close. Your sexual attraction getting the best of you. As the numbers ticked up, you turn to face the Adonis. You fist his jacket between your hands to pull him in close and whisper low in his ear, “Ya know, Jack,” you let your lips graze his ear with each word you speak, “I really hope you live up to that title you carry.”

Your hand rubs down, starting at his chest and snaking its way down his toned stomach to cup his dick through his pants. Jack’s breath hitches as you languidly palm him. Little shocks of pleasure spike across his spine. He’s a bit taken back from this forwardness you possess. No one ever showed a dominant side with him. He’s the one always in control. And he’s keeping it that way.

He runs his large hands along your curves causing you to lean into him even more before he takes your hand off him and retches your arm back. You’re spun around with such force that your mouth hangs open in shock. He roughly pulls you against him, trapping your aching arm between your back and his firm body. 

“Listen real close, baby.” he spits, words laced with venom. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m the one in charge. So, be a good little whore and keep it in your panties until we get to the room.”

The elevator dings and he lets you go, only to grab your hand and practically drag you to the suite. You take note of the wetness that’s pooled in the flimsy fabric between your legs from the little altercation. This little playboy has a rough side, and you can’t wait to see just how rough he can get.

His slender, ringed fingers put the key card to the scanner until the light turns green and you're swept away into the most luxurious room you’ve ever stepped foot in. Dull lights make the blue hues and black tones even that much more alluring. A giant mirror hangs above a bed fit for a prince and the large windows show the city in all its glory. 

Jack stalks over towards the window sitting in the middle of the large room. He sees men with cameras still mingling about below trying to get some shots of him and his latest conquest. He’ll give these sleazy excuses of people the shots they desire and more.

You shed your coat and purse before making your way towards the hulking figure near the window. You can tell something plagues his mind. It’s not hard to sense when he looks like a lost puppy in the moon’s hue. 

He glances at you as he moves to stand behind you. He pulls you in close by your waist and brushes your hair away from your neck. His fingers are so feather like you almost couldn’t register them. His lips though, you can feel them just fine as they pepper kisses and bites along your neck.

“City’s beautiful isn’t it?” he asks in between his sucking and biting. Creating little patch works of art across the expanse of your skin.

You’re in a trance and all you can do is hum in agreement. The feeling of his hands groping the soft flesh of your hips and his lips dragging along the base of your neck has you silently enjoying the attention. The only sounds coming from you are whimpers and breathy moans.

It’s a symphony to Jack’s ears. He finds your sounds more beautiful than anything Haydn conducted. He may just want sex, but he knows how to appreciate the beauty he finds in the people he beds. He might be an asshole, but he’s an asshole with a taste for the human form.

He places your hands against the window and kicks your legs apart. “What’re you doing?” you ask in slight concern. 

As he’s making quick work of discarding his clothes he simply states, “I’m going to fuck you while the city watches.”

What? You couldn’t have heard him right. There’s people down there that could easily see, there’s a million dollar mattress made for a rough fucking. A window is not what you wanted. But, what you want doesn’t matter in your profession and it certainly doesn’t matter to the prince as he pushes his naked body against your clothed one, trapping you against the cold glass.

He hikes your dress up past your hips and stares at the pretty lace thong sitting between your full ass. He grabs at the flesh, pawing and kneading before landing a harsh slap. You jerk against the glass and you feel the sting go straight to your core. 

The cool metal of his rings soothe over the places he strikes, easing the burn. His cock is leaking at the site of you spread out for him and the whole world to see.

“You see all the cameras below us, baby?” he asks while rutting his aching member against you. You can feel his precum sticking to your skin. He reaches around your body and pulls your breasts from the confines of the sparkling material of your dress. He starts treating your chest like he did your ass just moments ago. His rings catch your nipple with each grope of your chest making you mewl and arch back against him.

“Make sure to smile pretty, cause you’re going to show them how good I fuck this cunt.”

He rips your panties down your legs and stands between them. You’re soaked for him. And the thought of people watching as he uses you makes you even more wet. You feel him rub his dick through your sticky folds. He bumps your clit a few times and your legs shake with each pass of his bulbous tip against your bundle of nerves. 

He slowly pushes in. Your walls welcome him as he bottoms out with ease and you're both letting out pleasured groans. “Oh, fuck.” you gasp. The feeling of his thick cock resting inside you makes your eyes roll in the back of your head. He’s almost hurting you with his size. And so, you try to scoot up a bit to relieve the ache he’s creating.

He grabs your throat, jerking you back up to him. You let out a pained cry. You’re trying to adjust, truly, but he isn’t helping you. 

“Nuh uh.” he growls. “You’re going to take what I give you, slut.”

The bit of gentleness he showed you was just the calm before the storm. He forces your face against the window and starts to thrust in and out. His pace is hard and rough. His grip on your scalp helps with leverage. He knows you’re enjoying the stroke of his dick with the screams you let out and the way your pussy is pulsing around him. 

“God, how is a whore this tight?”  he leans in towards your face, taking in the sickly sweet fragrance you adorn and pants against your neck, “You like being watched don’t you, my dirty girl? I know you do because this,” he lands a smack against your pulsing cunt, “is milking me.”

You let the degrading words help you towards your climax. He’s hitting that spot inside you just right. His balls are hitting your clit with each sharp snap of his hips and it’s all too much. You can barely hold yourself up, the only anchor you have is his firm hold across your stomach. 

You both notice the flash of the cameras going off, but it doesn't faze you, you both love it. It makes both of your senses heightened. The thought of these pictures plastered on every magazine and news station has Jack gripping your hair even harder and driving into with such force you fear the glass may crack.

“Jack,” you cry. “Oh, fuck right there. Harder.”

He slaps a hand over your mouth to silence your pleas. “Shut up, bitch.” 

He forces your head back and the new angle your body creates has tears welling up in your eyes. The pleasure he’s giving you is borderline painful. But, his tight grip across your mouth and the delicious force of his dick has you wanting more.

 Jack can tell you’re getting close because it’s getting harder to pull out of your tightness. He takes his hand that's in your hair and braces it against your hip, making you fuck yourself against him. 

“You wanna cum, baby? Go ahead. Show em’ how this cunt swallows me up.”

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. You scream behind the palm of his hand. You can’t seem to catch your breath, your lungs ache from the air he’s keeping you from. You’re practically lifeless as he fucks up into you, chasing his own release. 

“Shit...” he gasps. The vice-like grip you have on him has him snapping his hips against you faster. Jack feels his lower stomach tighten and his balls constrict before he pulls out and finishes on your lower back, just below the bunched up fabric. He takes a moment to admire the mess he created on you. He’s sure his plan of fucking a woman so openly will diminish any doubts about him and who he beds. 

He pulls on his underwear and makes his way to the bar occupying the corner of the room to make himself a drink. You take a moment to catch your breath and drag your body from the condensed window pain. Your hair is wild, makeup smeared, and you have cum stuck to your thighs and back. You feel more used than usual. But, this prick just gave you the best orgasm of your life and you’d do it all over again.

You straighten yourself up as much as you can before turning around and being met with a steely, blue gaze. “Congrats, sweetheart.” he smirks, taking a drink from whatever concoction he created, smacking his lips. “You’re a star.”

[erensslut01]

Eiffel Tower 

Pairing: Eren x Female! Reader X Armin

Genres: Smut

Warning: sexual content

Summary: the title says it all

____

You sat beside your boyfriend and his bestfriend. The three of you had agreed to watch a movie today. Mikasa was supposed to come too, but she was busy helping her uncle with his tea shop.

They picked a sexual movie, by they you meant Eren. He didn’t want to watch a sappy romance movie, a kids horror movie, or any drama.

You glanced at Armin from the corner of your eye seeing his cheeks dust a pink color. As guilty as it made you feel, you’ve always wanted to taste him, dominate him. He was so easy to tease it was almost a shame that weren’t able to. The way he look so flustered by watching the Mc kiss in the movie made your heart flutter.

Armin has grown into a full adult after highschool. The three of you now becoming adults. Meaning you three needed more sexual pleasures.

But you couldn’t fuck Armin. You were dating Eren, armin was his best friend!

You slightly tugged down your shorts which were slowly going up and into your ass. It was annoying, but Eren insisted that you wear it.

The lights were off, the only source being the TV and the moon illuminating through the open window. The couch you sat on was small, so the three of you were basically squashed together. You can feel both of their hot breathes against your skin, sending goosebumps. It was making you crazy, your mind becoming hazy with each breath that tickled your skin.

Eren, of course, caught on. He wasn’t here for the stupid movie, he knew exactly what he wanted. But he wanted it to play out. Eren makes sure he always gets what he wants. Always.

Your cheeks reddened at the scene. Your mind disconnected from your body, causing you to miss half of it. The two main characters were in their room already getting it on. The moans, the dominate words, the handsom MC.

Your subconsciously squeezed your thighs together. Eren’s arm slightly twitched at your focused attention towards the male actor. Your eyes trialing from his ‘hot’ body to his dick.

Armin glanced at Eren who’s attention was on you. Armin couldn’t pay attention to the movie. Not when he’s sitting next to you. Of course, he couldn’t make a move on his best friends girlfriend! That breaks the bro-code!

But he wanted you first. He wanted you ever since you transferred to their school, but as always he fell behind Eren. Eren made the first move and got you in the end. His confidence was something Armin envied.

Why didn’t I have any? Just a pinch of confidence would suffice. 

He wanted to hold you, kiss you, and even taste you. His Adam Apple moved in his throat while gulping nervously. Your legs were pulled towards your chest as you hugged them. Your head resting on your knees, ignoring the fact that your shorts were exposing half of your ass.

Armin wanted to be selfish for once. He wanted to lick your body, bite, and mark. He may not seem it, but he can be dominate when he wants to, he can be rough. Just as rough as Eren. Maybe even more.

Eren smirked at his best friend. Already understanding what he wanted to do to you, even without him having to speak. Armin hadn’t caught on to Eren. The blonde thought he hid his feelings for you well, but he could never get past Eren when his feelings considered you.

A left groan left your lips causing both boys to look at you. Your chest heaved fast as your eyes focused on the screen. The part was getting intense and so was your throbbing core.

You wanted to experience the pure ecstasy that the female character was feeling, even if it was fake. You wanted to feel it.

Whether it was Armin or Eren. Or both!

Suddenly you felt Erens hand wrapped around your neck, “ what’s wrong?” if you weren’t looking at him you would’ve believed that he was concerned. But his devilish smirk threw all concern out the window.

“ Nothing” your voice was low, barely a whisper. You were afraid that if you spoke loudly your throbbing would get worse. Your breath was slightly quivering, Armin noticed.

He didn’t say anything. But his eyes spoke a million words.

I want to touch you. Kiss you. Fuck you. Slap you. I want to do so much to you. I want to hit that one spot that Eren isn’t able to hit. I want to fuck both of your holes while you cry out in both pain and pleasure.

His mind created scenarios of how he wanted to destroy you. Guilt immediately over washed him, but he pushed it aside.

If Eren couldn’t satisfy you and left you needy, similar to right now. Then Armin would make a move.

Suddenly a gasp left your lips, “ E-Eren stop!” you whisper yelled to the brown haired male. His fingers trialing from your exposed legs and hovered over your sensitive pussy. His green eyes staring directly into Armin, “ don’t you want to touch her? Look at how needy she is” Erens sudden request sent him jolting, “ touch her? You can’t be serious. Shes your girlfriend”

It was an odd request. Who would want another man to fuck their girlfriend? Certainly not Armin. He wouldn’t even want another man breathing around you.

Your cheeks reddened, “ Eren stop it! You’re making him uncomfortable” although you said to stop you didn’t want him too. The both of you had established a safe word that was to be used if either of you had went to far.

Armin knew that of course, Eren has told him everything. From the way your face twists, the way your pussy drips with not only yours, but his cum as well. From the way you sing his name, throat becoming dry and hoarse. Eren never left out a single detail.

He wanted his friend to get turned on, he wanted a reaction out of Armin... he wanted Armin to fuck you.

And that’s exactly why Eren suggested a sudden movie night. Both you and the blonde had pieced it it together. You didn’t know how Armin felt, but you were feeling venereal. The thought of not only one, but two! Dicks inside of you has you buoyant.

It was as if the universe heard your thoughts. Your thoughts of being fucked senseless. Your thoughts of wanting to fuck the beautiful blonde.

Armin on the other hand was nervous. He wanted to accept the request. He wanted to run his hands through your body. He wanted to prove to you that he can make your body feel 20x better than Eren has.

And that’s what he was about to do. Erens smirk only widened once he caught on to Armins determined blue eyes.

You expected the blonde to reject the offer and leave, but to your surprise he grabbed your neck and pulled you towards him. Crashing his soft, kissable lips onto yours. Your heart began to beat violently against your ribcage. You expected Eren to jump forward and punch him, but to your surprise he stayed in his spot.

Your boyfriend was protective, really protective. Whether it was a female or a male that looked at you, he made sure that they knew you were his. He’d prove it by fucking you in the changing room, leaving hickeys on your body in the cafeteria, even grabbing your ass while walking in a crowd. Eren didn’t care as long as everyone knew you were his.

Thus, this is why he’s letting Armin fuck you. He wasn’t going to lie, he wanted to see his best friend ram his dick inside of you. He wanted to hear you call out another name that wasn’t Eren. To see you from a different prospective. The thought has crossed his mind multiple times, but he didn’t want to push you too far. That was until you asked him a week ago what his opinion was on a threesome. From there he was sure you wanted it.

He had asked as well, if you were fine with the idea. And your answer made it all clear,

“ I want too. I want to have a threesome.”

The mischief behind your eyes has caused his dick to throb. He wanted to enjoy a new you.

You moaned into Armins mouth as he gently tightened his grip around your neck, the pressure causing your throbbing cunt to worsen.

You had assumed some of his kinks, but choking wasn’t one you thought he’d enjoy.

You slowly opened your eyes, the kiss finally stopping so the both of you can breath. A trail of saliva connected from both of your tongues followed after him as he pulled away. Your heart leaped once you caught a smirk on his face.

The room was silent, the only sound being your breathing and the TV which you noticed Eren has lowered the volume,

“ Go easy on her, Armin.”

As if on cue, the blonde has picked you up with ease and placed you on his lap.

Eren shifted in his seat, giving him the full view of both of you. Your thighs straddled his muscular ones. Your eyes wide with both, shock and lust.

Armin savored the moment now becoming a memory of the past.

“ can I...touch you?” he was hesitant, his breathing now increasing with speed and volume.

You nodded your hands slowly moving around his chest. You felt everything. All his muscles and biceps.

It was a good thing that Eren has dragged him to boxing classes.

Armins cold fingers moved up your thighs, causing a gasp to emit from your throat.

His sapphire eyes never leaving your face. Sucking every reaction that you gave.

Eren watched with a smirk. His dick begged him to join the two of you, but it wasn’t time. Not yet.

His hands proceeded to move up, finally at your ass. His hands went under your shorts. His thumb rubbing gentle circles while giving it a tight squeeze. He was quick to dive into your neck. Placing butterfly kisses all over your exposed collarbone.

You whimpered against his ear, your hips slowly riding his clothed cock. He groaned into your movement and began to suck against your skin.

Unlike Eren, he was quick enough to find your spot. The one spot that caused your body to flinch and for you to clench your eyes tightly.

Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly while squeezed your thighs against his. He could feel your whole body squeezing against him, your boobs coming close to his chest as he felt them bounce against his black shirt.

Your back arched while your felt his hands continuing to squeeze and rub your ass. His hips bucking against your drenched cunt while sucking against your skin.

Is this really his first time?

Eren watched the both of you with hawk eyes, he didn’t even blink. He didn’t want to miss any reaction coming out of you. Who knew watching his girlfriend getting fucked by his best friend was so...hot.

A loud moan left your lips, feeling a familiar knot in your stomach, “ Don't let her cum, Armin.” Eren warned. Leaning his head into his palm.

Armin nodded placing both hands onto your hips and slamming you back onto his cock. This caused him to groan.

Your felt your knot disappearing causing disappointment to cross your features, “ I was so close!”

Eren growled, “ You'll do as you’re told.” You immediately shut your mouth.

Armin has discovered a new you. A submissive Y/n. How captivating.

“ Relax, Eren” Armin said while running his tongue against your neck, “ I’ll be taking control from here”

Although Eren wanted to be the one to command the both of you, he wanted to see what his best friend would do without his commands, “ fine.”

Armin smirked, “ great”

With a gasp you felt your body being lifted. Armin had his hands wrapped around your thighs while hoisting you upward. You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist. You then noticed how strong he really was. His lips connected with yours once again, you immediately melted into the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck. Moans leaving your lips, encouraging him to continue. His tongue glazed across your bottom lip, wanting access which you gladly granted. Your felt yourself entering a new surrounding, you didn’t bother looking. You knew where you were.

You gasped once again as your body was thrown onto the bed both you and Eren shared. You laid helplessly underneath Armin. Your body sprawled out beneath him with your hair messy. Flusted face and lustful eyes. He wanted to fuck you all over, leaving you filled with his bruises and his cum.

Eren soon followed after and entered the room. Taking a seat at the desk chair. His attention already on the two of you.

“ Tell me...” he leaned forward, using his arms as support to hold his weight over your body. Making sure not to crush you.

Your breath hitched, you felt like a prey being watched by a predator. You were about to be devoured.

Armins sky-blue eyes never broke contact with you, “ ...what you want?”

You remained silent for a while. Your mind yelling at you to tell him how to please you, step by step. But you wanted to know what he would do to you. So you said,

“You...”

His eyes flashed in excitement. His knee rubbing against your drenched pussy, “ come on, Armin. Don’t you see how needy she is? Quit teasing her”

Armin narrowed his eyes at the male, “ I thought I told you that I’m taking command. Talk again and I’ll make sure you’re the one who’s getting fucked next”

This caused both you and your boyfriend to feel butterflies. Eren smirked, but didn’t utter a word.

You were breathless, amazed, and afraid of how he was going to treat you. His gaze was hungry, thirsty, and needy.

This wasn't the same Armin you knew.

His thumb started at the bottom of your lip, slightly tugging it before inserting his pointed finger in your mouth. Soon entering his middle finger as well. He watched with lustful eyes at how you obediently sucked his fingers. Your warm tongue swirling around his wet fingers as your hot breath sent shivers down his spin, “ You’re such a good girl...” he rested his body above your knees, making sure not to apply his whole weight on you.

His thighs bestride your legs as his free hand began to trail around your body. You felt his fingers trailed around your neck and all over the bruises, “ what a work of art you are...”

Your stomach fluttered at the compliment, “ I want to destroy you” it fluttered again, “ I want to watch your face twist in both pain and pleasure while I fuck you senseless.”

You moaned against his fingers as you felt him circle around your hardened nipples, “ No bra? What a dauntless slut you are”

With one swift motion he threw the shirt over your body and shoved his fingers back into your mouth. You gagged before proceeding to suck again.

Eren sat in his seat while rubbing his clothed budge. This was...invigorating. For all three of you.

His hands laid upon your exposed breasts, his mouth immediately on your right nipple, sucking and licking the button.

Your legs shifted underneath him. Your back arch once more when you felt him beginning to bite.

He shifted his whole left leg against your legs, holding them down.

You felt cursed whispered leave your lips while you watched the sight. His blue eyes remained open and on you, his blonde hair resting above his eyebrows while watching you squirm underneath him, begging him to fuck you.

He dreamt of this, you begging for him, needing him. Armin wasn’t confident for anything, but for once in his life...he was confident enough to believe that he will make you feel much better than Eren ever has.

“ Armin please...I-I can’t anymore. I need you, please!” your begging began to increase, but he ignored you.

With a smirk and a short huff, he buried his face in between your tits, a savage look in his eyes as both hands rested on your boobs. He played with them while squeezing both breasts against his face, “ tell me what you want, baby. How much do you want me to fuck you?” his blue eyes flickered to Eren with so much confidence that caused Eren to smirk. His cock uncomfortably pushing against his now tight sweats.

“ do you want me to destroy you?” he continued, his torso leaning against your open legs while resting his head on your breast, his tongue trailing up your boobs and sucking on your nipple. His smirk still on his face while half of his face while hidden in your breast.

A confident look in his eyes. This was an Armin you’ve never seen before. Oh, how much it turned you on.

You continued to beg, you were needy, you wanted him, you wanted him so bad. You didn’t care if your boyfriend was watching, you didn’t even beg for Eren like this.

“ Armin! Please!”

Armin nodded, “ then let me get you started.

His fingers trailed towards the hem of your shorts before pulling them down, “ no underwear either? Were you expecting this to happen?” he teased before aligning his face with your drenching cunt, “ you’re so wet...” his thumb rested on your clit, slowly pressing against it.

You moaned, “ Armin!” he loved it. He loved the begging. It was his name and not Erens.

His grabbed your thighs tightly and threw them over his shoulder. His eyes flickering over to your desperate figure. His tongue slowly left his mouth before pressing against your entrance, ever so slowly trailing up to your clit.

His tongue circled against it which sent jolts throughout your body. His warm wet muscle continued to pleasure you, your hands immediately flying towards his hair, pushing him into you even more. His ears were filled with the sound of your lewd wetness and moans.

If only he was to make the first move, he would’ve had this all to himself. You gasped feeling a familiar knot, “ Armin~ Armin~ Armin! Ah~ I’m so close! I’m so close- AH! Right there!”

Your moans loudened, encouraging him to continue. He took note of where to lick, sending you over the edge. To help you come, he entered both fingers inside of you. Thrusting slowly before picking up his pace. You began to cry in pleasure. Your chest shaking while your boobs bounced with each breath. Eren has taken his dick out of his sweats and began to thrust his cock in his hand, slowly building up speed.

Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes. You continued to cry out to him. Encouraging him to go faster, deeper. His fingers were longer than Erens, and a big skinner, but faster.

Maybe it’s because he games.

You clenched a fistful of his hair while arching your back like crazy. A loud pleasurable moan left your lips as you coated his face with your juices.

He made sure to slurp and lick every single liquid that exited your body. Your legs shook as you stared at his figure with hazy eyes.

He licked his lips with a smirk before getting up. Moving towards Eren before taking his shirt off. His back muscles flexing as he threw his shirt to the side. Eren maintained eye contact while continuing to thrust his cock. Armin smirked before grabbing a fistful of Erens hair, pulling his head back.

Armin stuck his tongue out which revealed a bit of your juices before going down to his mouth, forcing his tongue into Erens mouth which he gladly accepted. Your felt your throbbing cunt begin to drench once again at the sight.

Armin was making out with your boyfriend, and it was so fucking hot. Eren flinched against Armins lips as he felt his climax reaching. Eren pushed away with a moan as he climxed onto his stomach and biceps. Armin only smirked, continuing to pull his hair.

“ open your mouth” Eren did as told. Only for Armin to spit in his mouth. Your stomach fluttered, “ your girlfriend tastes so fucking good. “

His blue piercing eyes flickered towards you, “ Get over here. “ with shaky jelly legs you struggled to move forward. Moving towards Armins reach, he grabbed your hair and pushed you against your now naked boyfriend.

You sat on your knees. Your hands against Erens thighs as Armin stood behind you, “ clean him up”

It was exciting. Armin had both you and your boyfriend under his command, it was exhilarating.

With your ass raised in the air you began to lick your boyfriend clean. Eren affectionately caressed your hair as he watched you lick his seeds off of his stomach, your tongue trailing all over his body.

Once you were finished Armin forced you into your legs and pushed you against Eren. Who instantly wrapped his arms against your waist. Your eyes widened once you understood the position. 

They were both about to enter inside of you.

The chair was high enough to have Armin enter inside of your pussy as Eren positioned to enter your ass.

With one shift motion they both entered inside of you causing you to scream. Your threw your head back onto Eren’s shoulder while your chest heaved, “ G-give me...fuck... a minute”

The boys nodded, understanding. Eren has fucked your asshole before but it’s been a while since then. Armin was a little longer than your boyfriend, but a bit skinner.

While adjusting the boys began to deliver soft kisses around your body. Eren left soft kisses against your exposed shoulder while Armin kissed your neck. The intense affection sending you on cloud 9.

With a nod, the two began to move. The size difference sending you crazy. Your boyfriend was thicker than Armin, spreading your asshole out even more.

Moan after moan, you could barely breath. You struggled between picking the two boys names, only making out gibberish. Your mind was hazy and in a daze, you couldn’t think.

You glanced down at your pussy to see Armin thrusting in you deeply, pushing against that one spot Eren wasn’t able to touch.

You jolted and screamed once more causing Eren and Armin to growl against your tight clenching, “ F-fuck! Ease up” Armin yelled before slapping your tit. The pain increased your speed of climaxing, “ how does it feel Armin? To feel her wet warm pussy around your cock?” Eren asked causing Armin to huff, “ fucking awesome. What a greedy best friend you are. Keeping your sexy girlfriend all to yourself.”

Your loud moan caused the two to stop conversing and watch the way you began to shake, “ she’s close” Eren groaned. Both increasing their speed. Eren tightened his grip around you waist to help you seated against his lap while you clenched the arm seat. Your mouth hung open, causing Armin to lean forward and kiss you, his tongue exploring your wet cavern while pushing deeper inside of you. You were sure he dug a hole inside of you.

His hand then traveled to your stomach, slightly pressing against it, “ I can feel myself...rearranging your guts”

With clenched eyes you came, Armin keeping his lips on yours as Eren kept his on your neck.

Although you came, the two continued. Fucking your sensitive ass and pussy, “ we’re not done yet!” Eren said before picking up his pace. Armin growled and picked up your legs, placing them around his waist while digging deeper inside of you.

“you’re such a slut. How does it feel to get fucked by your boyfriend and his best friend? You’ll fuck anybody, won’t you? Taking two cocks at the same time.”

You moaned, “ y-yes! I’m a slut. I’m both of your sluts. Fuck me! Fuck me!”

You felt your climax coming once again, but this time the two boys were about to cum as well.

“ Arg!” you moaned loudly coming again, Armin and Eren came inside of you while biting down against your shoulder, you swore it was probably bleeding from how hard they bit.

“ shit...I came inside of her...” your hearing slowly faded as your eyelids began to droop, “ it’s fine. She’s taking her pills.”

You flinched feeling your body being lifted, “ you did well...” your e/c eyes watching both Eren and Armin lay beside you on the bed with gentle smiles. You wanted to speak but your throat was dry and hurting, “ get some sleep...you’re probably tired”

You felt Armin wrap his arms around you as Eren did the same.

The feeling is pure ecstasy leaving your body and you snuggled into Armins chest, pulling Erens around around you tightly.

You truly felt like the main character from the movie you three were watching.

[shatouto]

more raised-sith anakin whump and jedi obi-wan comfort, co-written with @obiwanobi ! (also available on ao3) pls check out the rest of the series if you haven’t (it won’t make a lot of sense otherwise)

content note: non-graphic depiction of violence; mention of past sidious-style abuse; just please proceed with care

a little more

Anakin shivers alone in the nightly winds.

He counted exactly five sunsets and sunrises since the meditation incident. Obi-Wan never brought it up again, and acted like nothing happened. He still smiled and joked with such kind eyes; still asked Anakin about his progress on the newest cleaning droid in their quarters and offered to read to him before bed. Even Ahsoka never brought it up, even though Anakin was sure the Jedi would tell his apprentice about his major offense.

He couldn’t eat. He could hardly sleep. His stomach churned every time Obi-Wan said a gentle thing to him, in that usual melodic lilt of his. His breath halted every time Obi-Wan passed him by and pat his shoulder or brushed his hand. His Master had made him wait before, but never for this long without reminding him of his misdeed. But waiting time was meant to make the punishment more excruciating, so perhaps this is the point all along - that he suffers before he gets what he deserves. Or maybe the smiles are only a beautiful facade before the Jedi discards him for good. Because, let’s be frank: what worth does he have here?

The sky is a lightless inky ocean with not even a speck of starlight to speak of. Anakin turns his gaze one more time towards the lights of the Jedi dormitories. This is what he has to do, to be able to stay, he reasons. This is the only way.

He makes his way down.

The Lower Levels of Coruscant are singularly illuminated by artificial light, if they are illuminated at all. Here where celestial lights never reach, every grease-streaked face is tinted in the neon magenta and cyan of gaudy store signs, or the sickly green of long battery life storm lanterns. The alleys are perpetually murky, a certain stickiness that holds the sole of your shoes whenever you peel your feet from the ground. A cacophony of howling fight dogs echoes from afar, and the light above him flickers. Anakin doesn’t even need to glance around.

Here, there is no shortage of fists itching to throw a punch.

It takes little more than a shove and a cuss, to get himself thrown to the ground. Anakin springs back up onto his feet with ease; by then, several people, of various species and stature, have gathered around him. Some of them reeks of booze, others of blood. From there on, it’s easy.

His knuckles collide with a jaw. Bone cracks under his metallic fist. Force-blinds are no match for him; he has taken down dozens on his own when he was but a whelp under Master Sidious’s tutelage, thirteen years of age or so. That’s not to say they don’t land a good blow here and there, but a few bruises on the face are hardly more than a tickle compared to the burn scars that litter his body. When a sudden blast rings in the relative silence and misses him by a hair, Anakin grins. He whips around and uses the Force to simultaneously yank the blaster from the shooter’s hand and fling the marksman across the street. He opens fire.

Some of them fall, some of them run. Some of them remain, and then run when they see him toss the blaster away in favor of meeting them hand to hand. The more they come at him, shoot at him, the more his blood infuses with thrill. He feels renewed in misery, in the knowledge that this show of abandon will surely earn him the punishment he deserves, where all else failed. His metal fingers are capable of cutting skin, breaking bones, if he so wants, and he does. There’s blood on his hands, warm, soaking the sleeves of his too-soft robes. There has always been blood on his hand; a little more doesn’t make any difference.

When he’s done, Anakin thinks, he’ll be back in the Jedi’s quarters and kneel at the door to his bedroom. He’ll wait there, ready, so that when the sun rises, the Jedi will come and see what he has done. This is not something the Jedi can ignore in favor of delaying his punishment. He smiles and shivers at the same time at just the thought of it.

“Anakin, what are you doing?”

Obi-Wan’s startled voice runs him through like a spear. Anakin stops dead in his movements, wide-eyed. Obi-Wan? Here?

His pause promptly earns him a blaster shot to the shoulder. He snaps his head back towards the bastard who shot him, hand thrusted out in a Force-push. The shooter flies through the air and slams against a store sign. Another blaster fires.

Obi-Wan deflects it away from Anakin.

Anakin doesn’t know what’s happening anymore.

He staggers back and back away. This isn’t right. The Jedi should be asleep. He’s not meant to be in this nest of rats and vipers; not meant to know anything of this, to see Anakin in this state—just, just observe the aftermath and dispense his justice. Only the aftermath. Only when Anakin is ready.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Anakin says, his center lowered, his stance battle-ready. The scums around him scurry like cockroaches under the light of a lightsaber, even as Obi-Wan thumbs it off and clips it to his belt. “You should be in bed, not here.”

“The same could be said to you,” Obi-Wan says. Neon lights flicker on his face, his furrowed brows and tight lips, and there’s no light that’s ever been so dull, duller than the spark of dismay in his eyes that Anakin doesn’t want to acknowledge. “I would much prefer you to come back...”

“I have to be here.”

Obi-Wan is unflinching. He crosses his arms not only in a refusal to engage, but also in clear disapproval. “May I ask why?”

It’s the disapproval that makes Anakin’s heart drop.

“No,” he grits, breaths stuttering. He closes and opens his hand and warm sticky blood seeps into the cracks of his palm. If there is some semblance of a reflexive surface here, Anakin would look right into it, so desperate he is to see what color his eyes are. How does he look like to Obi-Wan right now? Does he deserve a punishment yet? Does he deserve anything?

Because if not, if he doesn’t, if he has no worth and Obi-Wan grows tired of him, he’ll be on his own again, facing the fact that he has lost everything and everyone and has nowhere to go and nothing to be. Hells, Anakin knows he shouldn’t be like this. He should be stronger than this. He shouldn’t be so weak as to fear losing any one man, let alone one Jedi, one stupid Jedi; he shouldn’t care; why does he care so much; he hates it, he hates it.

“Why are you here?” Anakin backs away, towards the source of sound - there’s a gambling den nearby, where he could conceivably squirrel himself away. “What are you trying to do?”

Obi-Wan only raises his hands, palm forward. “To get you home. Anakin, you have...”

“Bantha shit,” Anakin spits. They’ve gathered yet again a sizable amount of curious onlookers. “What do you want, Jedi?”

“Anakin, please, calm down—”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Anakin roars, even though that is exactly what he has been seeking. Direct orders, uncomplicated. But not like this. Not with this benevolence. “If you’re not going to answer me then don’t fucking tell me what to do!” He steps back and back, and the only thing the Jedi does is match every backward step of his with one step forward of the exact same length. “Fuck you and your nice little lies; never say one straightforward thing, ever, because you’re too good for it, what a good Jedi. Just say you want to drag me back by the scruff and punish the nine hells out of me.” He gives a teeth-gritted grin. “Say it! I know you want to say it!”

Obi-Wan doesn’t even deign to look taken aback. He says nothing, does nothing, just stands there in that damned little display of harmlessness, so patient, so calm, like he’d be ready to ask for a cup of tea and sip it slowly while watching Anakin any moment now. So that’s how it is, huh?

The bystanders scatter in shrieks when one of them is suddenly lifted in the air, scrabbling at their neck with strangled noises. Anakin’s eyes are not even on them; he glares at the Jedi as his fingers curl. “Say it.”

Obi-Wan finally moves. He stands between the hapless stranger and Anakin. His eyes harden, the shadows on his face sharpen, and his voice turns steel-cold. “No.” He takes Anakin wrist in a vise-tight grip. “Let them go. Stop this, now.”

Finally.

Anakin lets go. Not just of the person, but of everything. He drops to his knees with his wrist still in Obi-Wan’s hand, and when it’s released, his arm swings down limply, colliding with his thigh in a dull slap. His head hangs as his eyes squeeze shut. He tucks his tongue back and tries not to wonder what it’ll be this time - lightning or lightsaber burn, electro-whip lashes or an invisible hand around his neck, water running over his face or the cold hard curved confines of the Sphere...

But nothing comes.

“Anakin.”

Obi-Wan’s voice has always been very soft for someone so capable at fighting; even so, this is probably the gentlest tone he’s used yet.

“Anakin,” he says again, and the name feels safe in his mouth.

Anakin won’t be fooled. His Master liked to lull him into a sense of safety during his lessons, coaxing him to let down his guard just to strike harder after and make sport of his tattered body. He should know better. He should…

“Anakin, please, look at me.”

Obi-Wan’s voice is worth a little more pain.

He opens his eyes to find Obi-Wan’s. The Jedi is crouched before him, close enough to touch if he wanted to. But he doesn’t. Anakin can’t decipher the look on his face or even the hand hanging in the air between them that doesn’t have a lightsaber in it ready to strike him or lightning to burn him.

“That’s it,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Anakin doesn’t dare to breathe too hard.

Obi-Wan’s brows knit together. “I could not understand why you would leave in the midst of a night to do this. Where have I wronged you?” He sighs again into silence. “You scared me, Anakin.”

A punishable offense. So here’s Obi-Wan Kenobi, listing his sins before punishing him, ordering him to keep his eyes open in wait of the punishment to come. Anakin stares at him, eyes stinging, waiting. But instead of the burning of a blade on his back or a slow Force-choke around his neck, calloused fingers find his wrist. They move lightly above his skin, cautious, taking their time as if to unravel the tension under his flesh, wrapping around his hand. Anakin braces himself for the twist, for the sudden deceit and pain. Instead, Obi-Wan's thumb starts rubbing slow circles on the back of his hand.

“May I take care of you, then?” Obi-Wan asks, and something in his voice breaks a bit. “You’re hurt, dear one.”

These last words are like a saber to his heart. Anakin never thought Obi-Wan could be this cruel.

“Don’t,” he chokes out his last defiance, as his fists start trembling, “don’t call me that.” He bows his head deeply and shuts his eyes and goes as still and silent as possible. His insides are curling in on themselves, yet he doesn’t dare move. He’s nearly holding his breath, as the air moves around him. Fabric rustles, and he can feel arms drawing around him, and This is it he thinks, this is it, the pain will come and he will finally be released—

Obi-Wan pulls him to his chest.

This is not right. This is not real. This can’t be true. Nobody could be this gentle; nobody could forgive just like that, not with the insults and insolence and innumerable unpunished offenses old and new. Anakin does not get touched like this. He should not. His shoulders are squared stiff and his muscles constrict so hard that he starts shaking. He can barely breathe, because every breath knives into his tightened throat. His nose stings and his eyes burn and he gasps for air, only to take in a sharp sob.

“Please don’t… Please don’t do this to me.” Anakin gulps, clutching his own torso, fearful of the sudden warmth and tenderness. “Just—just punish me, I deserve it, please punish m—” He nearly bites his tongue trying to suppress the next sob. Tears always angered his Master. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I beg of you, please stop making me wait, Master, I’m sorry, please, just…”

Obi-Wan pulls back only to take Anakin’s face in his hands. Thumbs wipe over his cheekbones. “I’m not your Master,” he hushes, brushing hair back from Anakin’s forehead. “I’m not going to punish you, Anakin.”

And then Obi-Wan does the unthinkable: he lowers his outermost mental shields. He lets Anakin in, on his own. His concern scatters across the expanse of his psyche like gemstones, like blinking stars. His words are as true as the moon. I would like to bring you home. I would like to keep you safe. Obi-Wan’s hand cradles the base of his skull. Lips press into his hair. I would like to see you smile.

Anakin’s mouth falls open in a wail. He smushes his face against the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck and soaks his robes with tears. He cries his throat raw and parched, cries until his jaws tremble, his teeth clatter, his head goes light. He lets go of his own flanks and bunches his fists into Obi-Wan’s robes instead. Obi-Wan’s arms are wrapped firmly around him like a promise.

Anakin hiccups one last time, and sags.

—

Ahsoka paces near the Temple’s gate. The Temple Guards glance at her every once in a while, and she’s a little bit annoyed, maybe, but that’s nothing compared to the worry brewing in her chest right now. Dawn is peeking at the horizon, and her Master is nowhere to be found.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” she mutters to herself, flooding her and Obi-Wan’s bond with the rightful amount of indignation. You should’ve taken me with you, Master!

She’s surprised to feel Obi-Wan’s response immediately. A brief sense of reassurance, and a nearness - he’s approaching. His presence is too mired in concerns for her to make out the exact message, but she gets the sentiment. Her worries go through and mirror his own. They’re probably worrying about the same thing, then.

Ahsoka knows Obi-Wan is back before he’s even within sight. Yet the sight of him still suffuses her with equal parts relief and amazement. In the light of dawn, her Master marches into the Jedi Temple, a gentle silhouette against the rosy sky. Limp in his arms, head pillowed on his shoulder, is Anakin No-Name, formerly known as Darth Vader, currently unconscious.

“Let them both in.” Ahsoka tells the Temple Guards, showing them her datapad. “Words from Master Yoda.”

Obi-Wan looks at her gently, mouthing a soft thank. Her steps fall beside his, and for a while there are only the sounds of their footsteps echoing in the great hall.

“Master.” Her eyes flick to Anakin, noting his red, puffy eyes in stark contrast with his ashen face and… are those dried tears? There is blood on the ex-Sith’s robes and on her Master’s and she sort of really wants to know which is whose. “Is he alright?”

“More or less,” Obi-Wan answers. Ahsoka frowns at him, yet he seems too deep in thoughts to notice that. She sets a hand on his arm.

“Master, the Council has…”

“I know, young one.” Obi-Wan pauses when Anakin chuffs, shuffling his arm to rearrange the ex-Sith in a more comfortable position, and continues on his way. “I would prefer you to go back to sleep. This is my responsibility to bear.”

[rockthingsbymeg]

Rockin’ around the Christmas tree

Guns N’ Roses Christmas special - fic no. 6

Pairing: Slash | Saul Hudson x fem!reader

Summary: based of the prompt - “Person A is decorating the tree and refuses to let anyone else help because the tree needs to be perfect.”

Info: Fluff; 2120 words; typical Christmas stuff;

A/N: Last Christmas fic of the day angels. Have a good 2021!

It wasn't unusual for Slash to wake up and find Y/N already awake, either still laying by his side or going around the house doing whatever she needed to do. He was a heavy sleeper, so that had never bothered him, and that day it hadn't either.

Being awake before Slash, however, didn't exactly make Y/N an early bird. Anyone up before midday was up before Slash.

This time, however, it was different. Around half-past eight in the morning, Slash woke up, groggy and grumpy, with Y/N already out of bed. The bedroom door was fully closed, which meant Y/N wasn't coming back to bed and didn't want to wake him up. When they were asleep, the door was always left ajar or fully open, so none of them would accidentally go against it while trying to go to the bathroom or grab a glass of water in the middle of the night.

When he had rolled on the bed to look at the clock, he had groaned so deeply and loudly it had actually hurt his dry throat, but that was the least of his concerns at the moment. After he woke up, he couldn’t fall back asleep unless Y/N was by his side, which he guessed wouldn’t happen that day.

He didn’t understand why on earth she was up so early, but instead of thinking about it, he just rolled on his side, stretched like their little black kitten did while waking up, and then rolled out of bed, bare feet meeting the hard, cold wood floor and sending shivers up his body. Either way, he didn’t throw on a pair of socks or slippers and picked up a fluffy robe that Y/N had gotten him, wrapping it around himself and making his way out of his room.

Every blind in the house had been open, and the bright sunlight shinning against the snow resting on the windowsills burned his eyes, causing a groan to leave his lips and his hand to immediately shoot up to cover his eyes.

He kept walking, slowly becoming more aware of Frank Sinatra's voice mumbling lowly on the lower floor. It was so pleasant, deep, and rich in his early morning grogginess, that it was working as a lullaby, making his eyelids grow heavier and heavier. Slash fought them open with much cost as his bare feet began leading him down the stairs, a small, black cursed kitten greeting him happily as it walked in circles, its paws still too small to get him up the steps.

A smile stretched across Slash's face as he made it to the bottom and picked up the youngest member of his and Y/N's furry family. His calloused hands patted the tiny head and scratched behind his ears, smile widening at the soft, small purring sounds reverberating against his chest, where Slash had made the kitten lean against.

Soon enough, however, instead of having one kitten to pet and cuddle, Slash had that one and four more cats meowing at him, demanding their own share of attention.

Slash sat down on the last step of the staircase and let his cats climb closer to him to give him their good morning, curling themselves against the plush material of the robe or lightly craving their nails into the skin of his hands, trying to get him to pet them.

He had sat there for a bit, doing his best to give them all an equal share of attention, until all the heads turn towards their living room, two of the cats leaving to follow the sound and start meowing again to the other source of cuddles and pets.

Y/N kneeled down to run her hands over the fur on their back and then underneath their little chins, smiling widely at them and giving them each a kiss on the nose before taking a seat by Slash’s side on the staircase and leaning her head on his shoulder. Her head tilted up, looking into his eyes, as his tilted down, smiling widely up at her before pressing their lips together gently, one, two, three small pecks before a long, slow kiss.

“I didn't wake you up, did I?” Y/N asked as they pulled apart, lacing their hands together and stroking his knuckles with her thumb.

“Nah, you're fine. Jus’ woke up all of a sudden and y’know I can't sleep without you there...” A soft blush darkened the color of his cheeks underneath his bed-head and the sight made Y/N's heart flutter in her chest, even if it was probably the thousandth time she had seen it.

“I know, baby.” She laid another kiss on his lips and then one on his nose, pulling back only far enough to be able to speak. “Why don't I fix you some food and you eat while I finish what I was doing, and then we'll crawl back under the covers?”

The idea sounded very much appealing to Slash, who eagerly nodded before moving his mouth to press a sweet, gentle kiss underneath her ear. “What, exactly, are you doin' this fucking early, on a Saturday?”

A small laugh rumbled from the back of her throat as she pressed a final kiss to his lips and got up, gently putting two of her cats down on the floor and making her way to the kitchen, passing by their living room to turn the music just slightly louder. “It's December 1st baby. You know what that means...”

Combining her answer, with Frank Sinatra's soothing voice and the sight of balled up Christmas lights on the corner, that he, somehow, hadn't noticed until now, gave him the answer he needed.

“I forgot what day it was...” He chuckled, putting all the cats on the floor before following her, sneaking a glance into the living room to see their dark green tree stand high and proud in the corner of the room, right by a shelf filled with little dinosaur replicas. Yeah, everything totally matched. “Do you want help with anything sweetheart?” He asked as he entered the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her waist as she faced the stove, the smell of eggs filling his nostrils and making his empty stomach groan loud and angry.

She chuckled at the noise and turned to him briefly to plant a kiss on his cheek, before shaking her head and turning to the stove once more. “You know I like to do it on my own. It needs to be perfect, the way I envisioned it...” She explained, just like every year when Slash asked if she needed help.

He smiled against her neck, nuzzling her skin before giving her a small kiss, pushing back to glance towards the slide-open doors that led to their backyard. “Just like you know I'll always ask this. It’s tradition.” He chuckled, both at his statement and at the sight of their two older dogs and their three pups playing around in the snow. “They're gonna be freezing when they come inside...”

“I told them that, they still barked that they wanted to go outside.” Slash could envision Y/N rolling her eyes while speaking in that fake disapproving tone, shaking her head slightly while still cooking his breakfast, waving a small spatula around as she spoke. “They're dumbasses, much like you.”

“Wha- I'm not a dumbass!” He argued in an equally fake offended tone, letting his arms fall from their previous place around her waist and slapping her ass with one hand, before hopping on the counter so he could see her face.

“Why, yes you are, my love.” Y/N’s eyes shone as she smiled at him, playful words spoken in a teasingly posh manner. “You're my favorite dumbass.”

Slash couldn’t help his own wide grin as he looked at her, leaning in to steal a long kiss, humming briefly against her lips at the taste of eggs on her tongue. “Don't tell Duff that you said that. Y’know he claimed the spot of favorite dumbass a long time ago.” Laughs rolled easily between their still slightly joined lips.

“I won't, don't worry.” She nodded as she pulled back, turning her attention once more to the stove and finishing his food, putting his eggs and bacon on a plate before handing it to him, along with a glass of orange juice. “Now, you eat that, so your stomach stops complaining, and I'll go finish the tree.” She laid a quick peck on his lips before turning away, robe swooshing behind her as she made her way into their living room.

Slash gathered everything on a tray and, rather than eating all alone in the kitchen, he placed all his food inside it and went to join Y/N, sitting on the couch and watching her move around.

Her hands moved gently as she wrapped the Christmas lights around the tree, leaving them turned on so the room shone with a soft golden light, along with the early morning light. It didn't take her long to finish that part, and soon enough she had picked up a box filled with dinosaur garlands. It had been something she had bought last year, doing her best to mix his love for anything remotely reptile with her love for traditional yet not “normal" decoration. Garlands were traditional, but dinosaur garlands... not so much, which was the perfect balance for her.

As soon as the garlands were laid down, came all the other ornaments. A box filled with red balls, each one decorated by an old drawing of Santa Claus, then a box filled with golden little starts, followed by one with white and green bells, and lastly, one of Slash's favorites, a box filled with small, plastic snakes, lizards, dragons, and whatnot, all with a string to their back so they could be hanging in the tree.

While Y/N busied herself around the tree, laying every single ornament with accurate precision to replicate the mental image she had conjured, a small smile on her face growing as the decoration came closer to being finished, humming along with Frank Sinatra under her breath, Slash had finished his breakfast, done the dishes, let their dogs in, started a fire so all of them would stay warm and gotten his guitar, softly strumming with the songs playing, until, like always, he began playing a melody of his own, overpowered by his own feelings and emotions.

He hadn't noticed how Y/N had turned off the background music and sat down on their coffee table. She was facing him, elbows on her knees and face in her hands, a smile so wide it had to hurt her. Her eyes glinted, both with the flames from the fireplace and with the unconditional, unyielding, undying, overwhelming love she felt for him.

It had been the same look since the first time they met.

Duff had brought her along to one of their shows, excited to introduce one of his closes friends to his bandmates. She was this slightly shy yet so lively, amazing girl, and Slash was, as much as he hated to admit it, swept off his feet after not much more than five minutes of conversation.

He was shy himself, never one to be able to hold eye contact for long, but whenever he did, it was the one occasion when he'd stare for longer than he could remember. The first time he looked into her eyes, they were so filled with a burning passion, a bit hazed from a few beers, admittedly, but so captivating. It was like a whole world, a whole galaxy was held inside them.

And what had taken him a while to realize, was how much deeper and lively that galaxy got when she was looking at him.

Once his eyes had lifted from the guitar and seen that exact same look in her eyes, he couldn’t stop his mouth from working faster than his brain. “You still look at me like the first day we met...”

A soft laugh left Y/N's lips. Not a mocking or condescending one at the softness of his words, an honest, love-filled one. She got up from the table and made the short distance to the couch, reaching over to gently take the guitar from his lap and taking its place. “Of course I do.” Her wide smile remained, both her hands coming up to cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. “I still love you the exact same way. I always will.”

A smile grew on his face too, as he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, pouring as much passion into the gesture as he did when playing guitar. “I’ll always love you too, baby.”

——

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, reblogs, comments and any kind of way you show me you liked this are endlessly appreciated💛

Requests are closed.

Taglist: @curly-hudson; @agroupiewhore; @littlemisscare-all; @metalheartofgold

[mono-dot-jpeg]

dynamite - b. katsuki

summary; life is sweet as honey, or maybe they’re as sweet as caramel!

genre; fluff, comedy, soft bakugou, best friend! mina, fluff moments w/ bakugou, tsundere! bakugou is what i live for, 3rd year! bakugou

pairing; bakugou katsuki x reader

word count; 2.8k (if you count the lyrics)

a/n: tbh the song doesn’t really fit the theme but the song is cute and i wanted to use it in a fanfic at some point. this is my longest written one shot i think [._.]

ALSO IT’S MY BIRTHDAY! LET’S FUCKIN GO, GAMERS

the song is “dynamite” by BTS, if you haven’t listened to it, please do, it slaps. i didn’t do the entire song bc im too lazy and that’s too long to write ksdjfksdjf i have a limit :monkaW:

‘Cause I, I, I’m in the stars tonight

So watch me bring the fire and set the night alight

You were one of the energetic people in class. You had got along with everyone except the explosive blonde that was Bakugou. You hung out with Mina the most which was how you got initiated into the Bakusquad. With your Quirk, Boombox, it seemed almost perfect that you were in the Bakusquad. You converted sound into explosions though there were drawbacks (that you didn’t wanna get into) of course. 

Your classmates wondered if you had known Bakugou before you joined UA. On the first day, you challenged the male after you found out about his Quirk. Of course he had accepted the challenge and during Quirk Assessment, he had won. Ever since you had become another rival for him, but at least it was more of a healthy rivalry compared to him vs Midoriya (but I mean that rivalry got better overtime).

Thought there were several times where it seemed to be more than a friendly rivalry.

Shoes on, get up in the morn’

Cup of milk, let’s rock and roll

King Kong, kick the drum

Rolling on like a Rolling Stone

It was another normal day for you, except you were going to train with your Quirk. Music was blasting in your headphones as you mutter the lyrics, small explosions popping on your hands.

Before you could leave, Bakugou stopped you. “Oi, dumbass.” You looked up at him, sending him a smile. “You going to train?” You nodded at the male.

“Mhm! You wanna come with? I wanna practice working with my quirk! Let me practice with you!” You said eagerly.

“Ugh, you’re like an annoying puppy, you dumbass. I shouldn’t be inviting you to your own practice.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course, I’m coming with you.” He bonked your head before you rubbed the spot he had hit.

“Hey! You’re like an angry Pomeranian! You’re not any different from me! Come on! Let’s go! I’ll beat you this time!” You said, starting to pull him by the arm as he quickly protested to the physical contact but made no move to tug his arm away.

“Like you’ll beat me. I’m still gonna win.” He scoffed. “And who you callin’ Pomeranian?! You fuckin’ dumbass!” You smiled at him in reply as you btoh made your way to the training areas in UA.

“Can I play some music?” He grumbles as you take it as a sign of agreement. You smile brightly, playing your favorite music. You were experimenting if you had to be the one to make the sound of if you could use sound from other sources. You had always assumed that you had you make the sound yourself.

And so the training started. Within seconds, the sound of explosions and yells ringed in the room. Neither of you went easy on each other. It almost felt like a match in the UA Sports Festival. You and Bakugou never went against each other during it due to the fact you lost when you went against Tokoyami. You couldn’t use anything to fight against Dark Shadow well enough.

As the fight between you and Bakugou continued, you had used your quirk with the loud beat of the music. So, I can use my quirk with music! You had thought. Soon the fight ended with Bakugou winning, much to your disappointment. “I almost got you there!” You said as Bakugou sees the determined glint in your eyes, ready to go against him once again. 

He chuckled, moving his hand on the top of your head and started to ruffle your hair which earned your surprise. It wasn’t until he playfully shoved you, yelling at you, “Come on! You weren’t even close, dumbass!” You swore you saw pink on his face, maybe it was from the heat in the room (from the fight) but you weren’t sure…

Sing song when I'm walking home

Jump up to the top, LeBron

It was a day off in the dorms. You had been in your room all day pretty much. This was usually normal behavior as you played video games in your free time when you weren't studying or gaming. But more often than not, you forgot that you had to care of yourself during off days. Kirishima had went out with the rest of the Bakusquad, leaving you and Bakugou in the dorms with whoever else was there.

You were ending a comp game with some friends who you often six-stacked with. “Yeah, I’ll see you guys later.” They left the group, leaving you to play a few quick play games. You were still in queue until loud knocks echoed in your room, effectively shocking you. “Who is it?” You asked, after getting over your shock.

“Open up idiot!” Bakugou said. You feel like if he bashed any harder on your door, it might just break. You stop the queue and open the door, revealing the blonde male. “How long have you been in your room? You look like shit.”

“Well...how honest do I have to be to answer your question?” The answer you gave him was enough as he soon put you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “W-what are you doing?!” 

Ding-dong, call me on my phone

Ice tea and a game of ping pong

“You haven’t eaten have you?”

“W-well, do small snacks count?”

“No, you fucking idiot.” He took you to the kitchen, putting you down onto a seat as you huffed at him, “Actually fucking eat a meal!”

“Aw, you care about me!”

“W-what? SHUT UP DUMBASS! IF YOU WANNA BEAT ME, DO IT WHEN YOU’RE AT YOUR BEST!” You nodded, laughing a bit at his reaction. He had made some curry with rice, handing a plate over to you while he grumbled about you not eating all day and staying in your room.

“I’ll still beat you! No matter what!” You smiled before you ate. You had realized that this was one of the few times that Bakugou did this on the weekends. “But still, thanks for worrying about me!”

“Shut up! I wasn’t worrying!” His face was red. You wondered if it was from the anger or something else.

This is getting heavy, can you hear the bass boom? I'm ready (Woo-hoo)

Life is sweet as honey, yeah, this beat cha-ching like money, huh

You were at the mall with the Bakusquad (Bakugou included of course). You and Mina were gossiping and talking most of the time. You had suggested to go to the arcade but Mina insisted on dressing you up in some cute clothes before you did. But maybe Mina just wanted to buy clothes for herself as well. You didn’t mind catering to your best friend for a while. 

The boys of the squad didn’t go off too far from you and Mina as they decided to go into a video game store for a bit while you and Mina indulged yourself in the cute clothes.

“You’ll look great in it, y/n! Trust me!” Mina encouraged. You smiled nervously at the female before moving into the changing rooms to change. Unknown to you, a certain blonde had been glancing over at you from the video game store window.

“It’s pretty cute!” You stepped out and Bakugou almost choked on air. The waistband of the skirt hugged your waist comfortably as the black graphic tee was loosely tucked in. Now if you were someone else, Bakugou probably would’ve called you some dumb shit like a basic e-girl or something like that. But you pulled it off. 

“You need to buy it!” Now, Bakugou couldn’t hear you from how far the stores were. Mina took this chance. “I think Bakugou likes it.” Mina glanced over to the video game store, tilting her head to gesture you to look at Bakugou. You glanced over for a second, locking eyes with the male as you feel your face heat up.

Disco overload, I'm into that, I'm good to go

I'm diamond, you know I glow up

Hey, so let's go

You did buy the outfit. And you made your way to the boys. You couldn’t muster up too much courage, suddenly hyper aware about the blonde’s actions. You all eventually arrived at the arcade, your hyper awareness wiped away as you saw the DDR machines.

“Hey Mina! Let’s go! You think you could beat me this time?” You joked as you accidentally bumped shoulders with Bakugou, trying to call out to Mina. Mina was too busy with Kiri and Sero, making you pout. “Damn, meanie. Hey Bakugou?” You dragged out his name, earning a huff from him.

 “I don’t dance.”

“Well, it’s not really dancing! Are you scared that I’m gonna beat you?” You can feel his competitiveness flare up at the question.

“No way in hell am I scared!” He grabbed your wrist, dragging you to one of the DDR machines. “I’ll beat you, dumbass!” You laughed as you let him drag you. 

“Okay!” You stood on the colorful arrows as you picked a song. “I’ll win against you, Bakugou! This is my main game!” You said, fully confident in your skills. He ‘tched’ before the song started. As the song went on, Bakugou seemed to care less about winning and more about the bright smile on your face.

'Cause I, I, I'm in the stars tonight

So watch me bring the fire and set the night alight (Hey)

Shining through the city with a little funk and soul

So I'ma light it up like dynamite, woah-oh-oh

You weren’t one to have bad days but today just really seemed like a bad day. Hero training was more draining than usual, one of your friends from general studies seemed to be avoiding you for some reason, and you got in trouble with Aizawa today. Nothing could be worse. It was a stressful day and you weren’t happy at all.

The whole Bakusquad seemed to notice this. “Hey Bakugou, you should go talk to y/n!” Kiri suggested as the squad watched you do house work as per the punishment Aizawa had granted you with.

Bring a friend, join the crowd

Whoever wanna come along

“Why me?!”

“Well, you and y/n seem really close. Plus I’m scared that they might just snap at me. They’ve been having a bad day lately. Maybe you could help them out.”

“Aren’t you guys their friends?!”

“Just go do it, bro!” Kiri encouraged, pushing the blonde towards you. 

Bakugou went up to you. “Hey, dumbass, let’s, uh, talk after you’re done with cleaning. Meet me at my room, idiot.” He spat out at you. He seemed oddly nervous. He hated that feeling. How you made him feel like that like it was nothing. You looked at Bakugou, confused for a moment before nodding.

You arrived at the door to his room, knocking softly on it. “What did you wanna talk about, Bakugou?” Before you could react, you were pulled into his room and right into his arms. Your face was forced to rest on his shoulder as you can feel his warmth radiating on you.

Word up, talk the talk

Just move like we Off The Wall

“Y-you looked fuckin’ stressed today. You don’t need to tell me what’s wrong. You can let it out.” There was just something about his words that started to make you cry. You could feel your stress leave you as Bakugou stays silent, comforting you without words. After you finished crying, he starts to speak again, “I’m not good with words, you know this, but I’m, uh, here for you. But don’t get any ideas, dumbass!”

You looked up at him, seeing pink dusted on his face. You start to giggle. “Why are you laughing, idiot!?” He asked as you start to laugh more, your Quirk accidentally activating as it make little sparks in the air. 

“You’re-you’re just really cute!” You said honestly with that bright smile of yours. Bakugou can feel blood rush up to his cheeks.

“I’M NOT CUTE!” The blonde growled, making you laugh more. Eventually, he got over his anger. “Don’t call me cute!” But he was glad that you were happier now after you finished crying. He didn’t know if it was the sparks from your Quirk or the light from his room but you seemed to shine brighter than the sun when you smiled.

Day or night the sky's alight

So we dance to the break of dawn

You fumbled with your outfit as Mina continued to do your makeup. It was a special night. Prom night. You, of course, were going with the Bakusquad. You sort of wished Bakugou asked you out but he would never really do something like that. 

“Are you sure I look good?” You asked Mina.

“You look great! I’m sure Bakugou will like it!” She teased, sending a red flush to your cheeks. You stood up, dusting yourself off. “Ahh! You look so amazing! All the boys and girls will want ya!” You laughed at Mina’s words, tucking some of your hair back. 

You and Mina soon gathered with the others in the living room. Once you entered the room, Bakugou was pretty sure he lost his breath at the sight of you. You were so damn beautiful.

Ladies and gentlemen, I got the medicine

So you should keep ya eyes on the ball, huh

This is getting heavy

Can you hear the bass boom? I'm ready (woo hoo)

“Hey guys! You ready?” You asked, walking over to the squad with Mina having an arm wrapped around your own. You looked at Bakugou and how shocked he was, you simply smiled as you looked up at the male. He can feel blood rush to his face, soon turning away to cover his face.

You all chatted for a while until you arrived at UA. They had (conveniently) set up a ballroom like room for all the 3rd year students. It was pretty loud and crowded. It felt a fairy tale if you were being honest. It was such a magical feeling though. You loved it.

Though you didn’t join Mina and the others on the floor to dance, you were perfectly content with seeing everyone enjoy themselves as you stood on the sidelines.

“So, why are you with the damn idiots dancing?” Bakugou’s voice pierces right through your thoughts.

“I like to see them enjoy themselves. Plus I can’t dance unless I’m playing DDR.” You joked with a small smile as you sipped on your drink.

“You think they care if you’re good at dancing, look at Pikachu and his dumbass.” Bakugou slightly gestured to said male who was terribly dancing, making you laugh a bit. 

“Well, why aren’t you dancing?”

Because I wanted to just look at you.. is what he wanted to say but didn’t. “You think I dance?”

“Maybe your mom taught you a thing or two.” You teased slightly. “I would pay to see you dance.” 

Life is sweet as honey

Yeah, this beat cha-ching like money

“Then dance with me.” You looked at him, your e/c eyes glinted with surprise. “Pay to see me dance by dancing with me.” It felt everything slowed down for a moment and slowly faded. It felt like it was just you and Bakugou. Your heart is beating loudly with the music as Bakugou offers you his hand. “Come on idiot, I’m not gonna wait forever.” You can see the smirk on his face but it’s so teasing and his crimson eyes are glinted with confidence and playfulness.

Disco overload, I'm into that, I'm good to go

I'm diamond, you know I glow up

You take his hand. He leads you onto the dance floor, the rest of squad cheering you guys on. It takes you a bit but you start to get into it as much as Bakugou does. Everyone in your class and the other 3rd year classes are joining you but it only feels like it’s just you and Bakugou. 

Both of you seem to be in sync with each other and it’s like the song playing was only made for you two. 

Let's go

'Cause I-I-I'm in the stars tonight

So watch me bring the fire and set the night alight (hey)

The song soon starts to end and your hands are intertwined with his as you’re only looking at each other. You can smell burnt caramel as he tugs you closer to his chest. It’s like everything stopped when you both stand there while the song is getting closer to the end. Before you both knew it, your lips are connecting with his.

Shining through the city with a little funk and soul

So I'ma light it up like dynamite!

[myfeetkeepdancing]

KoH!Tom x Male Reader Blurb

A/N: In the past few weeks I’ve been playing this game called Hades, and completely and utterly fell in love with Zagreus 😍 I mean... Look at him... I couldn’t help myself and envisioned Tom in such attire. And so this short blurb was born. 

Forgive me! I can’t stop thinking about it! I’ll go back to regular content soon 😉

Words: 2404

- - - - -

Moist and warmth roll after you the moment you first set foot from underneath the shower. The colder air immediately nipping at your exposed skin. But nothing beats a refreshing warm shower to start the day. With a quick rinse of your towel, you slap around your waist and turn into your room. You open your wardrobe in search of underwear. It had to be there somewhere.

Rummaging through as you sense an odd tingle, a jolt shooting up along your spine. Something close to a shiver. But it wasn't the cold fresh air getting a grip on your naked body.

"Hmmm… That's a good look on you (Y/N)." A voice, somewhat deep and teasing, sounds behind you. Followed by a sinister chuckle. "I like it..."

"Holy-!" You jump scare, turning around on the balls of your heel, covering your mouth with one hand. Keeping you from blurting out any more. You blinked once, twice, and thrice. But your eyes didn't deceive you. "What the…?!" Your other hand caught the towel just in time. Taking a step backward, bumping into your wardrobe butt first. Almost letting the towel fall to the floor again.

A mischievous smile and eyes sparkling as you had never seen before stared directly into yours. It captivated you. The way he seated himself on the edge of your bed, with such calm and ease. Lounging like he owns the place. It's unnerving. "Yes…" He says, tilting his head to the side. "Yes… You should walk around like that more often." His smile broadened with contempt as he eyed your naked form, top to bottom.

"Wh-..." Your lips move, but no sounds come from your throat. It takes your mind a few seconds to comprehend what was happening and get yourself together. "How'd you get into my house?!" You ask, somewhat aggravated while shaking your head and trying to blink away the image before you. But to no avail. He was as real as they get. "Is this some kind of joke? Who the hell are you?"

"You don't recognize me?" He says, raising an eyebrow.

"No, of course I don't! If I would, I'd reacted differently!"

"That's fair." He nodded. "You know…" He grunted lightly. "I don't have much… time-..." Speaking with a slight interval in his sentence... "-...in this mortal realm of yours."

"Mortal… realm?" You reply, annoyed, eyeing the shirt from the corner of your eye. It lay crumpled together on the closet, within arm's length. "Speak up. You're freaking me the fuck out."

"(Y/N). I'm here with good intentions. Only took me some time, years actually-..." Raking his fingers absentmindedly through his hair. "-to find you." His smile was contagious. Something about it, the way he wanted your attention, it cooled your sudden anger. "You hid well (Y/N)."

"I didn't… I'm here. Always have been. Just... tell me what's going on. And… what are you wearing?" Eyeing the very much revealing attire he wore.

"I only need a little bit of your time." He pursed his lips into a small smile. "You can start by calling me Tom." The way he spoke his name had a certain ring to it. Like a tug at the back of your mind. A tingling running up your spine. A ring of familiarity. The way he looks at you, as if he's searching for a reaction. Your guts feel rearranged, entangled in something you haven't felt before. Your eyes are drawn to him. And the more you give your eyes the time to look. The more you want to. Something pulls you to him.

The man sitting in front of you was truly something. You had never seen anything quite like it before. He is broad, muscular, a physique you've only seen in the movies. The muscles were big and tempting to look at, the way they tensed and relaxed under his movement. The man himself wore not much more than you did. From his shoulder ran some sort of a robe—an unusual style of clothing. What you can see are two layers of cloth— both of stark contrast to one another yet satisfying to the eye: a deep dark crimson red and the other black, as dark as night. The black one covered most of his body. Its edges were ornated with a gray line and odd symbols. The second red layer sat atop the black one. Both running slanted from the shoulder downwards to the belt, covering half his chest and stomach. It ended up tucked underneath the belt, and the remaining of the cloth covered his waist and that which sat beneath. He wore no pants, nor shoes. He is just like you… scarcely dressed.

This clothing reminded you of the Greeks and their Gods. The robes hang loosely from his figure, thus showing a lot of his physique. This much skin, bare and about, was confronting at first. And you can't help but stare. It all fitted so well together. The lines, curves, and shapes all coalesce together perfectly. He's like one of those statues you see in a museum. He's stunning. Perfection. In every possible way. Sculpted like, through, and by the Gods themselves. His chest is big, with one pec in the open. Down that smooth and galant line of his robe showed the smooth ridges and valleys of muscles. It displayed much, and the man seemed to hold his physique with pride and confidence. As he slowly leaned to the other side, giving you more to look at what was hiding underneath. It's breathtaking to gaze upon.

You only notice as you try to peel your eyes off of him. The room itself seemed darker, intensifying the colors he somehow emitted. You don't understand any of it at all. But it draws your eye. And it keeps your attention. It's so random, and yet… satisfying to watch. Your eyes slide upwards to the source of light, past the exposed collarbones and strong neck leading to his head.

It illuminated the small space surrounding him. A hue of orange, yellow and red cast upon the wall, dancing like flames. There was no draft in the room. Yet small laurels, ember bright and glowing, detached from the wreath that wrapped around his hair. Once detached, it twirled up into the air and slowly burned out like a cinder from a fire—curling and twisting into itself before disappearing into thin air.

"Did something caught your eye?" He taunts with a seducing twist in his voice. "Is it my clothing?" Running his hand along the lining, down from his hip to his shoulder. The way he did was almost like a tease. As his hand ended up at his shoulder, he pulled the cloth back into position. It looked regal again. Almost official. Yet it felt like foreplay. You wanted to see more. It's as if he knew. "Or what's underneath?" He continued with a grin spreading across his face.

"I… don't know." You stammered, licking your lips nervously. Feeling your cheeks color with blushes. "I haven't… seen something… or someone… like this… before." Your heart raced inside your cavity. Blood pressure rising. "I'm pretty sure…"

"Take a good look." He leaned forward, allowing the cloth to slowly slide from his shoulder again. Giving you more to absentminded gaze at again. "You had something similar." Reaching underneath the layered fabric to scratch his chest, breaking your line of sight. In response, shooting your eyes back into his. "But I've always preferred this…" Eyeing your bare naked body again.

With two fingers, he dismissively gestures towards the shirt you were reaching for. But completely forgot once your eyes and mind were occupied elsewhere. "No need for that."

You jerk your head towards the shirt as it spontaneously bursts into raging flames. Consuming it at a rapid pace. You release a yelp, afraid the fire might catch something else. But within a blink or two, the shirt had burned up without affecting the rest. The ashes dwindling away from existence with a gust of sudden air out of nowhere. "Wh-...?"

"You look mighty fine as is." He said. "I suggest you don't open any drawers for... more clothing." He groans again, holding his midriff, trying to get himself together. "Now…" He continued with his dark seducing voice. "Did something come back to you? When you… looked."

"Holy shit… !" You curse loudly. "Y-Your… You're some kind of… God?"

"Something like that." He smirked. "But far from holy." Rising to his feet with his arms hanging beside him. He seemed to be on the short side, but now you finally got to see the whole picture. The real proportions and volume of his muscle now really began to show. His abs and chest. Veins running on his lower arms. "Think (Y/N)." He pressed on. Pulling you from your daydreaming again. "Can you remember anything?" He actually looked menacing. As he stood up, the belt around his waist came into view. Panic suddenly hits you as you notice various white stones with carved smiling skulls depicted on his belt.

"No-No-No!" You hold out one hand, trying to keep him at bay. While the other barely held the towel in place and your back pressed against the wardrobe. "I… I don't remember! Please!? I don't! Please?! J-Just… just leave me be!"

"(Y/N)..." The way your name rolled from his mouth. With such calm and coolness. The way he carried himself, step by step. Careful and slowly. "Nothings going to happen to you. On the contrary..." He said, stepping even closer to you. "I'm going to help you." His voice had a peaceful and reasonable tone. You automatically lower your arm as he comes in reach. Something withholds you from touching him.

"I… don't… W-With what...? With what... are you going to help?" You feel your hairs rise, the air stock in your throat. He was so close. 

"You..." He hesitated for a moment. Clearly rethinking what he was about to say. "I need... you back…" His breathing got hampered. "And it's… Please… (Y/N)...Nnggh…" he groaned as he averted his eyes. His entire body shook for a moment before returning his gaze. "Listen…" Taking one final step forward. Making the whole conversation up close and personal. "My time here is… s-short… and I want you to show something." His eyes draw you in. You hang to each and every word that falls from his lips. So close, he's even more impressive to look at. 

"I… I... don't understand..." You stammer, watching him with big eyes. "I've always been here… And… never knew you?" With every fleeting moment of silence, and your eyes captivated by his, you begin to feel caught between the wardrobe and him. If you could move, you maybe would. But somehow, you didn't. Only the tingling sensation on your thighs snapped you out of glaring at him. You look down, past your fingers holding the towel, and panic hits you again. The orange and red glow of sundering flame reflected in your eyes. Slowly consuming the towel. "What are you doing?!" Your eyes dart up and down from the towel to him. "Tom! Talk to me!"

"I'll... help you… remember." Before you manage to react, two fingers lift you by your chin. It's him. Even closer. Standing merely inches away from you. You meet his eyes up close, and for the first time are truly realizing the beautiful features of his face. It's gorgeous. The angles, the lines. The proportions, they match perfectly. Drowning in his eyes. They're deep and meaningful. And there's something in his eyes you have never seen before with anyone before. 

Words fall short from your mouth as he moves closer. Ghosting dangerously close to your lips 

"You'll soon... r-re...member what… once... w-was." He whispers, almost like a spell, it captures you. Tantalizing you. His breath fanning across your skin. "Fr...agments. Glimpses-s... of the… past." A reassuring smile was more than enough. 

"C-Can't… you tell me?" 

"It doesn't work that way…" He grunted. "You'll understand soon enough."

"I… I… Tom?"

"Close... your eyes..." He interjected. Slightly tilting his head to the side.

"And if I don't…"

The touch of his lips upon yours sets things in motion you had never experienced before. Your eyes closed as he said you should, and you follow in the motion. The soft, warm cushions of his lips dancing against yours. It's slow at first. With both his hands cupping your cheek. He has full control. He knows what he's doing.

The conversation must have taken only several minutes. But your body has cooled down quickly. And you only notice that once his lips are sealed with yours. Like the morning sun touching upon your skin. A fireplace coming to life again. A spark igniting what once was. This glowing sensation boiling from deep within you. A warmth is flowing through you. A jolt of life dashing through you. You feel alive. Better. Stronger. 

It's unheard of.

"I… I… w-will… return…" He grunted against your lips. "And I… I'll… keep… d-d-doing… this…-" Until his lips part, resting his forehead against yours. The brush of his fingers, stroking along your cheek. "-Until… y-you… remember…” 

Your eyes shoot wide open. A gasp of air sucked into your lungs brings you back once more. Your vision scans left and right throughout the room. The light hitting your eyes again. But the visage of the man was gone. One hand holding onto your member, no towel in sight. You pull back the other hand in surprise, hanging there mid-air before you, as if reaching out for something or someone. You swallow the lump in your throat as the images flashed through your mind again. But it's vague, distant, and ...new?

A laurel, bright in color and familiar to the ones you saw earlier, dwindled through the air in front of you. With two fingers, you grab it, afraid it might burn up like the one you saw. Between your fingers, it felt warm to the touch. The texture was gold-like. Smooth and shiny. Yet, it didn't disintegrate. A confirmation that what just happened was real. It filled you with more questions than answers. But above all, you felt alive. As so did your body. In your other hand, your member had stiffened at the thought of the man. Tom. A shuddering breath left yout shaking body. A strong, aching itch started to arise.

He better return.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Shelbys at Somme Chapter 15

Thomas X Reader

Word Count: 1950

Summary: Evidence. A little stab in the heart. Two idiots missing the point.

by @adventuresintooblivion

Thomas huffed into the cold night air. The family meeting that Aunt Pol had called ran late. As time ticked on his mind had begun to wander, it wasn’t until Arthur had smacked him with a newspaper that he’d realized he was shaking the table by bouncing his leg.

“So anxious to get out of here are ya?” Aunt Pol raised her eyebrow.

Arthur playfully elbowed him, “He’s just excited to get to that nice warm bed at the Garrison with what’s her face.”

Aunt Pol let her gaze bore through the younger Shelby brother, “Would that be Grace or Y/N?”

“While it’s not any of your business, I’m not sleeping with either of them,” Thomas growled as he shoved Arthur aside. “Why do you have that sour look on your face, Pol?”

She folded her arms, the matter at hand forgotten, “That Grace girl, I don’t trust her.”

John peeked up from a ledger, “You don’t like any girl that comes and tries to take your boys away.”

“That’s not true,” Aunt Pol sniffed. 

Thomas rolled his eyes, “So if I asked Y/N to marry me tomorrow you’d be fine with it?”

“As a matter of fact, I won’t be opposed to it.”

Silence fell over the room. It hung heavy in the air as future possibilities began to unfold in the minds of various Shelbys. But Thomas didn’t let himself dream, he wouldn’t. 

“Speaking of Y/N, I hope she doesn’t mind if we steal you for a night.” Arthur stood to slap Thomas on the shoulder.

He raised his eyebrow, “What on earth for?” 

“Well, John over there has been planning a heist for a long while, and he’s too nervous to bring it up himself.”

“Hey!”

“And we figured you should give it a quick looking over.”

Thomas glanced over at John curiously, “Alright, I’m all ears.”

〜

Grace and Y/N lay against the cold stone for hours. The clock ticked by in that warped way brought along by discomfort. Hours passed in moments, but, more often than not, it slowed to a crawl. Each shift brought a new source of cold waiting eagerly to seep into their bones. Each breath conjured small puffs of steam before their lips.

It wasn’t until morning that boots crunched through the gravel drive outside. Henry shivered against the cold of the morning. While snow refused to fall, ice still formed in the mud outside the Garrison. Fog hung low in the air as it rolled off the Cut, and, quite frankly, Henry found himself wishing for summer.

Distracted, he hurriedly shoved his key into the lock. It gave too easily. At first he didn’t register anything amiss, but soon his tired mind caught up. Something was wrong. The door swung open revealing a gaping hole of darkness that seemed to yawn open in the stark morning light. 

He took a deep breath fidgeting with the lock. “Grace? Are you in here?” His voice cracked.

The creak of the grimy wood floor was the only answer. He glanced around quickly, starting when his boot squished in a small muddy footprint. He licked his lips.

“This isn’t funny Grace! You know I like a clean floor.”

All he heard was the soft hiss of the radiator. Finally, he looked around. The scent of stale beer and sweat assaulted his nose, quickly leading him to the source. Several buckets of excess stout still waited to be taken out. A thin film coated the bar, pretty typical for the end of a night. But now?

“This place is too bloody dark,” he said to himself in a singsong voice. He wasn’t sure if it made him feel better, but it helped fill the heavy darkness. He wracked his brain for where he’d put matches. The backroom. 

Henry rushed forward, tripping over a chair in his eagerness for light. He felt out wildly for the rough wood. His hand collided with the dense slab with a loud THUD. Shaking the handle, it refused to budge.

“Shit. Again?” He fumbled for his keys

“Henry?”

“Y/N? Is Grace in there with you? She was supposed to lock up and the place is a bloody disaster.”

“Yeah…”

Henry grumbled to himself, “Of course. You girls been in there all night?”

He cycled through several keys, cursing all the while. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the door creaked open. Immediately, Henry was assaulted by cold air.

There he found Grace and Y/N huddled together between kegs. Grace’s blonde hair hung limply, her clothes wrinkled, but what stood out the most were her blue lips and pale skin.

Henry stumbled forward, “Christ, is she ok?”

Y/N shrugged in an attempt to hide a shiver. “Dunno, but we need to get out of here.” She stood on wobbly knees. Henry waved her away when she tried to help and soon both women were upstairs beneath blankets.

“Well, I guess I”ll just have to do without my barmaid today. You two stay up here and warm up. Keep an eye on her, alright?”

Y/N nodded as she absently put a kettle on the stove. 

“Do you want me to call Mr. Shelby?” he asked, setting Grace’s bag by the bed, having found it behind the bar.

“No, I’m gonna hop into bed with her, heat her up. Besides, there’s not much he could do. But you might want to get the window downstairs fixed.”

“Window?”

Y/N settled onto the bed, “The one in the backroom. It’d popped off its hinges. We tried to close it, but it wouldn’t budge.”

Henry shook his head. “Damn, alright. If you need anything I’ll be downstairs. And make sure Grace is up and about soon. I… Don’t feel like hiring another girl in this mess.” 

“Aww, you like her,” Y/N grinned.

“She works hard and is easy on the eyes,” he waved her off. “You can’t beat that on this side of town.”

“Mhmm. Go, get. If Tommy asks, try not to freak him out.”

The informality earned her a raised eyebrow but only silence answered. After last night she definitely wasn’t going to complain. She readjusted Grace’s blanket, the top of her bag coming into view. 

There was a pull, a gravity towards that bag, that little primal part of her brain that needed to uncover secrets. It wasn’t proper. But since when have I been proper? Y/N glanced towards Grace before reaching for the leather handles. 

Inside, she found several things that were pretty typical; however, a metal glint caught her attention. She’d already committed to the act of snooping, so she reached in to see. Her heart grew cold as her hand closed around a familiar sensation. She pulled out a small gun. 

Y/N’s hand began to shake. She had proposed the idea of Grace working with Inspector Campbell months ago. Gently, she set the gun down before continuing to rifle through the small bag. While the Garrison was in a rough part of town, it didn’t warrant a gun, did it?

It wasn’t long before her hand closed around a small metal object. She already knew what it was before she laid eyes on it, but that didn’t stop her. A badge. Fuck.

Grace shifted beneath the covers. Y/N quickly shoved the badge and gun where she found them. Her heart tried to beat out of her chest as she swung the purse to the foot of the bed, barely preventing it from colliding with the foot post.

Moments after her hand released the straps, the sound of feet pounding up the steps echoed through the hallway. Every instinct inside her told her to recoil, to hide what she’d done. She forced herself to turn toward Grace and not fidget as Thomas stormed into the room. Grace jumped, sleepily rolling towards the door.

“Hey Tommy,” Y/N said as calmly as she could. There’s a gun less than a foot from me.

“Are you two alright?” he asked. “Henry told me what happened.”

She rolled her eyes, “I told him not to freak you out.”

He stared at her like she’d grown a second head, “Is there a nice way to tell someone two people almost froze to death?”

“Eh, you’re just frazzled cause it’s us.” The color drained from his face as he stared down at them. Y/N grimaced. “I’ll try not to hit the nail so much on the head next time.”

Grace slowly sat up, seemingly unaware of what the others were saying. “We got out?”

“Yeah, Henry found us this morning. How’re you feeling?” Y/N reached out to brush her fingers over Grace’s skin. It was still cooler than she’d have liked, but miles better compared to only a few minutes ago.

She instinctively leaned into Y/N’s warm touch, “I can’t believe we survived the night.” 

Y/N froze, trying to figure out a way to tell Grace to shut the hell up. She didn’t get the chance to before Thomas closed the distance between them. He leaned forward to investigate Grace’s condition, falling back into that leadership role he found himself in way too often.

In his haste, his elbow pushed into Y/N’s hip, forcing her to scramble onto her feet before she was shoved off the bed. She cast a glare at him before her eyes landed on Grace’s purse.

She’s working for Campbell. The words almost pried themselves from her lips as she watched Thomas fuss over Grace. Then he brushed his thumb over Grace’s lower lip.

“Are you alright, Love?” His voice was soft, tender and sweet. The same voice he’d use under the cover of night when he and Y/N were alone. Except now, it wasn't for her.

She’d known this was happening, and, yet, it didn’t stop the dagger from ripping through her heart. It didn’t save her stomach from dropping through the floor. She whirled around, looking for something, anything, to distract her from what was happening. The teapot had started to scream.

She busied herself with making tea, even though stupidly, most of it consisted of waiting. Y/N found her fingers tapping on the counter, reciting her mother’s words about never stirring steeping tea. Someone cleared their throat, causing her to jump.

“Did you hear me?” Thomas asked.

“No, Shelby I didn’t hear you.” 

Thomas frowned. “I’m ‘Shelby’ now?”

Y/N shook her head, finally facing him, “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I was asking if you were alright.”

She glanced at Grace who was looking about the room, “As good as I can be, I guess.”

“Y/N, if this bothers you, all you have to do is say something.” He gestured towards the bed. 

“Oh, so I need to ask for your attention now?” Y/N couldn’t keep the venom from her voice. 

“You never indicated that-.”

“I never said I didn’t want to. I only said that I wouldn’t be… You know what? Now is not the time for this conversation.” Y/N rubbed her eyes. “We have to talk anyway.”

She paused. Y/N had told Aunt Pol about Grace but she had intentionally kept the information from Thomas. If she told him now it was as good as lying to him. He wouldn’t care that she didn’t have proof before, or that it could’ve gotten an innocent woman killed. His only concern would be her divided loyalties between him and her conscience.  

“How about the races? Later this week?” She glanced up at him, hoping his love of horses would win over his curiosity. 

He seemed to consider before finally nodding, “Wednesday?”

“Wednesday.”

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #29 - The One Where Everyone Gets Super Shiny

Our issue opens up with Swerve laying down the Story So Far in the Exposition Dimension.

Fantastic, you funky little man.

If Swerve looks like he’s been tossed through the car wash a few dozen times, it’s because this is where our new colorist comes in! Everyone, please say hello to Joana Lafuente- known for her love of gradients and attention to light sources, this actually isn’t the first time we’ve run into her. Lafuente worked on colors for several issues of The Transformers (2009), Last Stand of the Wreckers #3, and a few issues of MTMTE Season 1. However, she was matching the styles of her co-colorists on a majority of these, so we haven’t seen her style properly until now.

Getting into the story proper, Cyclonus is busying himself with staring out the window at a PNG of space, as he is wont to do, when he hears the tell-tale sound of tires squealing down the hall towards his room. Oh, goodness, whoever could that be?

Nearly forgot about him, didn’t you? Yeah, it’s a little difficult to follow up on things like a character’s recovery from a horrific disease when you’ve got comic event contract obligations to deal with.

After getting tackled by Tailgate, who reminds us all about the time he stuck his dirty little fingers into a dude’s brain meat, Cyclonus takes the little nerd on a walk through the ship.

You’re not going to convince me to reread “Dark Cybertron”. I don’t care how much of a marshmallow you are, it’s not happening.

They’re passed by Megatron and a bunch of crew members carrying that coffin we saw at the end of last issue down the corridor, Tailgate has a moment, and we get a taste of Cyclonus’ distaste for the Autobots as a whole. Tailgate is mildly offended by this, as he gropes his chest in distain, showing off his shiny new Autobot badge- a gift for not dying a terrible, gruesome death.

Good job, Tailgate. Proud of you.

They’re also passed by an absolutely blitzed Jackpot and Mainframe, the former singing Tailgate’s Tyrest-stopping praises as the latter carts him over to the Medibay to deal with the almost alcohol poisoning he’s got going on. Cyclonus remarks that Tailgate was missed, though Tailgate can’t help but wonder if that’s really true.

Y’all like slowburn romance, right? Because these two dumbasses have been roommates for two years, and we’ve just gotten to the point where physical contact can happen without one of them needing to be dying.

Anyway, it’s been a good day for Tailgate so far. Let’s hope it stays that way for the little dude.

...And that’s a series wrap on Tailgate! Let’s give him a hand, folks!

Hopping back in time to Megatron’s trial, things get underway, as Optimus Prime takes a nap in the judge’s bench as Gripper- whose name you don’t need to remember, as he’s not actually important- tells everyone about how brutal the Decepticon Justice Division is, even to Autobots. Which isn’t really supposed to be their deal, given their, y’know, name, but I suppose nobody’s perfect.

Up in the stands, in an… opera box, I guess? Rodimus is watching the proceedings, when Atomizer walks in. Which I guess you can just do in a Cybertronian court case. Sure.

Atomizer, in case you forgot, is the dude who has a bow and arrow, and used to be an interior designer.

Say, didn’t Whirl has a bow and arrow in the last issue when he attacked Megatron? Mighty curious, that.

Rodimus and Atomizer briefly reflect on the DJD, recalling the horror that was Vos- not that Vos, the other one. Rodimus would really just rather this all be over with so the Lost Light can get back to finding the Knights of Cybertron, and it’s at this point that Atomizer breaks out a thing he really ought not have- the count for the vote on whether or not Rodimus should stay on as captain. Rodimus doesn’t want to look at it, because it was supposed to be anonymous for a reason, and tells Atomizer to destroy the list entirely.

Hm, that’s not a terribly determined face there, Rodimus.

Back in the present, specifically in Swerve’s, Groove is threatening to break Streetwise’s arm, as we get the downlow on just what exactly our Legislator buddy’s deal is. Turn’s out, Swerve got one of the things reprogrammed, so that he follows not the Autobot Code, but something else entirely.

Hey, Swerve?

I don’t expect you to know this, because I don’t think you were present when they revealed this information to the readers, but… your new bouncer is made of people. He’s a dude made of other dudes, namely the Circle of Light. There’s a chance that you reprogrammed a sentient being, my good bitch.

Anyway, Swerve’s in a fucking mood because his shoulder hurts, someone’s stealing his shit, and Megatron has joined the narrative. Over at a nearby table, Skids, Nautica, and Riptide take a gander at the tabloids. Trailcutter, who is positively smashed, to the point where he’s just leaking booze out of his face like it’s his job, isn’t terribly interested in that, however.

What an astute observation, Riptide. And people say you’re stupid!

Trailcutter wants to drink some more, because it’s very likely he’s got a problem, but the mention of “Megatron’s super fuel” makes him feel like it’s time to stop hounding Swerve and start performing crimes.

Back during the trial, we get to Starscream’s testimony. He’s wearing his crown. He’s acting like a self-righteous asshole, as he defends Megatron.

Well, “defend” in the technical, legal sense, I suppose.

But really it’s more about him insulting Megatron’s intelligence, strength, and courage, in front of a LOT of people, while also trying to make himself look better in the war crime department. Megatron doesn’t appreciate this very much, if his murder-face is anything to go by.

Megatron lets Ultra Magnus (his defender, if you’ll recall) know that he wants a private word, and court goes into a brief recess.

Back in the present, Nightbeat’s busy looking at a pin-up of Rung’s alt-mode, when someone knocks on his door. That someone is Chromedome, who’s trying to solve the mystery of The Missing Declaration of Love. Not that he says that specifically out loud.

You two were married, why- okay. No point in yelling at this digital copy of a comic book.

Anyway.

So, the whole screaming thing only happened the one time, and everything was back to normal on subsequent plays of Rewind’s message. Nightbeat seems to be leaning towards the depressive isolating getting to Chromedome, which Chromedome responds to by telling him to get the fuck out. Alas, someone’s blocking the door!

YO WHAT THE FUCK-

Back with Trailcutter’s subplot, our drunken friend is in the middle of breaking into the Medibay. Our trio of cool-colored pals watch him from back at the bar, by way of a laptop that looks like it was built the same year I was born.

As Trailcutter attempts to commit a crime, Megatron, Ultra Magnus, and Ratchet pass by, trying to figure out how to handle the whole coffin situation. Trailcutter’s about to punch the locks off a door, and Nautica decides that this is where she’s going to draw the line today, leaving the gaggle of fools to their shenanigans. Then Tailgate glomps Skids, throwing the computer to the ground and breaking it, as Trailcutter finds the door to the Medibay magically open.

If you don’t know what glomping is, there’s a 60% chance that you’re not old enough to vote in the US.

Trailcutter sneaks into the Medibay, we get a reminder that Ambulon is super dead, and Trailcutter commits theft from a food bank. What a guy.

This is the point where security shows up, armed with a great deal of guns, one of which is Megatron himself. Trailcutter, instead of feeling super powerful, actually feels positively awful after consuming Megatron’s rations of “super fuel”. Because he, as an Autobot, doesn’t want to be within 50 yards of Megatron, Trailcutter breaks out the forcefields the moment the guy approaches him. And oh, what a doozy this one is.

Trailcutter’s gotten himself a fancy new trick- this forcefield he’s broken out lasts for a solid half-hour, and he can’t turn it off. I’m sure that won’t bite him in the ass at any point in the near future, no-siree!

Back in the past, Rattrap is commending Starscream on playing the field and getting the public slightly more on his side, but Starscream’s too busy patting himself on the back to really pay attention. He knew damn well that Megatron wouldn’t like what he had to say on the stand, and now things are finally looking up for ol’ Screamer.

Over with Optimus Prime, Slamdance is showing off how the general public is really into this whole “folks being held accountable for their actions” thing.

In the present, Chromedome and Nightbeat seem to have remembered they have alt-modes and are driving down the hall back to Nightbeat’s room- wonder what the speed limit for the Lost Light is?- and discuss just what the hell happened. The current theory is that the Rewind they saw was a Data Ghost- a collection of information so dense, it had a not-quite-physical presence that wasn’t 100% removed when he died.

Which is a little fucked up, but let’s see where this goes.

Nightbeat undoes the 40,000 locks on his door while Chromedome bleeds guilt all over the shag carpet over the fact that he hasn’t been looking for Dominus Ambus like he said he would.

C’mon James, gimme that Chromedominus endgame.

Nightbeat finally opens the door to find a small problem.

Hm. That’s… not normal.

Over in the Medibay, Trailcutter’s bubble has burst, allowing Megatron to slap him in the back of the head. This head-slapping induces his FIM chip permanently, making it so that he can never get drunk again.

Weird party trick, Megatron. Kinda shitty, really.

Megatron then gives Trailcutter the job of director of security, because he needs direction in his life. Trailcutter just sort of takes what he’s given, because I suppose you can’t really argue with a guy who can literally slap you sober, and also threatens to destroy you if you fuck up even once. Nice, Megs. Nice.

MEGATRON THAT’S BEEN SITTING LIKE THAT FOR OVER HALF AN HOUR YOU FUCKING WET NOODLE

So, since there’s mystery juice all over the floor and no one’s died, Megatron assumes that the coffin ought to be fine to crack open.

Please note that Megatron is not a medical professional, and his views are now peer reviewed by medical professionals. Megatron is in no way endorsed by the WHO.

Anyway, Rodimus is in there.

Pretty fucked up.

Back in the past, recess is over, and Ultra Magnus comes bearing bad news- Megatron wants to change his plea to “innocent.” This gets about the reaction one would expect from just about anyone.

Well, except Rodimus, who’s too busy reading that list that he wanted destroyed. He’s very sad about it.

I know, what a bummer!

[thetirashan]

Soup of the Day

Written for 2021 Vyn Spring Event.

Two guys sit in a bar and bitch about how Narathzul can't govern a city worth a damn. One is a future Shadow God and the other has seen some shit in his lifetime. Huberto just keeps stirring his soup in the meantime.

Set between Barateon's death and the Shadow God's arrival in Ostian.

Vendil had a love-hate relationship with transitional periods. They were always full of uncertainty, chaos, and destruction. Sure, he ushered in his own transfer of power from one egomaniac to another but that didn’t mean he liked it. Order and structure were his bread and butter.

Yet on the other hand, three o’clock was always the best time to visit the tavern. It wasn’t the most inviting scene to walk into it but there was something to be said about the cool crisp privacy of a near empty bar. There was just him, a few washed out old men, and Huberto. The latter knew that he was the one to help overthrow Barateon, Vendil could see it in his eyes, but the man stuck to his routine. Vendil ordered a glass of beer and a bowl of unsalted peanuts, Huberto nodded before delivering the order, and Vendil paid upfront. Neither one gossiped about the other. It was balanced and even-handed -- an exchange at its simplest.

The sound of boots shouldn’t have broken him out of his stupor. Occasionally travellers would wander in to scarf a hot meal before passing out in a room after all. They barely paid attention to the innkeeper much less him. With that said, his head still snapped up at the jingling.

It was a steady lulling noise. A single heavy boot step then that faint jingle. Almost comforting in a way as he blinked at the figure strolling through the door. The darkness by the threshold gave him the visage of a spectre but the candlelight revealed a man cloaked in soft browns and greens with a wide brimmed hat crowning his mop of red curls.

Huberto glanced up from handing a customer a plate of smoked sprat with an astonished look. It was quickly gone with a blink and a small cough into his elbow.

“Good afternoon, sir. Can I get you anything?” he asked, keeping his eyes directly on the patron before him. Vendil didn’t know the innkeeper well but he could spot a nervous man a mile away.

“I’d like a cup of wine and a bowl of whatever you’ve got over the hearth.” the man, now revealed to be Aeterna, replied. With his hat under his arm, the man’s identity was immediately determined, forcing Vendil to take a long sip of his beer. So much for a relaxing day.

“Potato soup?”

“That’ll do. Just one bowl please.”

As he waited, the man leaned against the counter and scratched at his beard, looking everywhere except where Vendil was lounging. However, the moment the small tray filled with hot soup and wine was given, his head snapped towards his direction with a sunny toothy grin. His teeth were remarkably straight despite the coffee stains.

“Well, well… if it ain’t the lava hopping asshole.”

Huberto’s eyes widened for a brief moment before clearing his throat and focusing on cleaning the dishes in a tub near the hearth. Vendil just sighed, swallowing his bite of peanuts.

“Vendil.” he replied curtly.

“I know. I’m poking fun at you. Still gives me a giggle from time to time.” he drawled out, taking the seat across from the other man. He could only sigh as Arthan let out a rusty old gate chuckle.

“Why are you here?”

“Aw, why you gotta be like that? You know with Anku all a-buzz that there’s no work so I decided to crawl outta my hole. Heard that someone let ol’ Narry boy out of his cell and let him go wild. Now he’s in Erothin with his fingers up his ass while you run the show. Am I caught up?”

He opened his mouth to reply, only to shut with a clack. Arthan’s grin grew obnoxiously as he leaned back and sipped on his cup of wine. Vendil could only groan and rest his forehead against his hand as he slouched over his beer.

“Perhaps it’s… something like that.” he mumbled out, taking a long sip of his beer. Glancing down into its bottom, he briefly wondered if a second was in order. Wasn’t part of his ‘destress’ routine but neither was a mouthy Aeterna that kept grinning at him.

“Mm, I’m guessin’ by all those posters slapped on every corner that he’s taken a bunch of credit too.” he tsked, not bothering with the spoon to enjoy sipping on his soup. Vendil only grunted at that. “I wish I could say ‘I told you so’ but even I didn’t expect him not to… I dunno -- not give a shit about his partner in crime.”

His sigh could barely be heard over the crackling of the hearth and Huberto’s soup pot stirring. Arthan cocked his head to the side ever so slightly as his grin softened to a smile. “It wasn’t always like this.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

“What do you mean…?

“You’re running a city for him. Now I’m making an assumption but I figure that it’s a high stress job. You’re no longer the hero that saved him but an underling that files tax reports. None of those posters even mention you. Not exactly fair and not a good sign.”

The pinch of peanuts that Vendil held quietly dropped back into the bowl as he glared. Arthan, of course, didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. “Good sign of what? The city is doing relatively well considering the coup.” A wave of disgust washed over him at how weak his words felt. Suddenly he yearned for the taste of whiskey, not cheap beer.

“He’s half assing city governance to the extent that his closest friend is hiding at a bar to avoid snapping from the pressure. Imagine what’ll happen once he gets Nehrim under his belt.”

Immediately Vendil held a single finger up, earning a cocked eyebrow. “How do you even know any of this? Or are you just pulling all this out of nothing?”

“Shit, Vendil, just open your ears and walk around the market. I’ve only been in the city for three hours and a five minute smoke break by the bank told me more than I wanted to know. Vendil Auralus approved of some new guards, Vendil did such ‘n such tax reform, talk to Vendil if you got concerns. Blah, blah, blah. Not too hard to put two and two together.”

An awkward silence soon filled the room, leaving only the sound of the crackling logs in the hearth. Huberto, despite his nature, peeked over his shoulder towards them, still hunched over the dish tub. A quick wiggle of the eyebrows from Arthan made the man snap his head forward so quickly that Vendil was sure he had whiplash.

“I, uh…”

“It’s so damn obvious that it might as well slap me on the ass on the way out. I’m only telling you this because you seem to be the only one who doesn’t know. Don’t feel bad about it. No one really knows their own reputation.” Arthan’s chair creaked softly as he leaned back further like a lazy cat in the sun. Vendil simply glanced at his reflection in his glass. His face was colored piss yellow from the beer but even that unflattering shade didn’t hide the circles under his eyes or the droop of his ears. Golden eyes were unashamedly looking at him once he finally tore his gaze away.

“You’re not chickenshit so what’s the problem?”

Another sigh -- probably the millionth of that afternoon. “He murdered his girlfriend and father. Narathzul’s not exactly the most reasonable person.”

“So?”

“So…”

“Listen, I’m not exactly the most knowledgeable with history but Narathzul has a mile long track record of failing miserably. Treomar? Just look at the place. His little conquest of Inodan? He ended up getting tossed into a cell and was rotting for a thousand years. His little recent streak of luck has been less about luck and more about you.”

“He murdered his girlfriend and father.”

“I know, I know but you got leverage. You’re justified in saying something. And if he tries to pull something funny? Well, you’ve got a shield and a mean right hook, don’t you? What other options do you got left? At this point, it’s not if he’s gonna fuck you over but when. Do it on your own terms at least.” He loudly sipped on the dregs of his wine. As he did, he spotted from the corner of his eye Vendil’s face contorting into a mess of expressions -- rage, confusion, disgust, and a few unrecognizable ones. Eventually he settled on something akin to a dried out old grape -- scrunched up and quite bitter.

“All he does is pour over the Predestination and sit on his throne. I can barely get his signature much less get him to govern the city. It’s like he sees Erothin as nothing more than a stepping stone instead of a living breathing city. The people here have hopes and dreams and I can’t just ignore them.” he groaned, feeling the tightness in his chest unclench just a little.

“I get what you’re saying but the Predestination?” Arthan asked softly, leaning over the table just slightly.

“It’s a prophecy about the Shadow God or Tel'lmaltath… or whatever. Basically it’s about a god of shadow dethroning the Light-Born and restoring balance. Like all prophecies, it’s vague enough to mask the incompetence of others.” Tension yet again plucked at his chest. This is clearly private information that Narathzul entrusted to him. Focusing on Arthan’s face, he noted the tenderness the man surprisingly invoked. Concern wove itself into the man’s crow’s feet as he reclined back once more. He expected guilt to overwhelm him at the admission but it never came.

Arthan’s lips thinned as he fell silent for a moment. His eyes flickered back and forth between his lap and Vendil’s eyes. “Now that is worrying…”

“What? That he intends on killing the gods?”

“No, no. Those seven aren’t gods. Never were, never will be. Their downfall is inevitable. But what concerns me is the source of this prophecy and amount of shit Narathzul’s going to be in. For a man who spites the gods, he sure does love blindly following higher powers.”

Vendil’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched the other all but pour the rest of his now lukewarm soup down his throat. “In a hurry somewhere?” Vendil asked quietly, his voice surprisingly weak.

“I’ve still got some errands to do while there’s time left. Can’t you feel it? There’s a spring thunderstorm coming soon.” His ears twitched as he rooted around in his bag, grumbling as the various mish-mash of his pack clinked together. “Um… oh! There we go. Got a gift for you.”

“You left the king so frazzled that he forgot to properly gift you a token of the Starling’s affections.” he explained as Vendil examined the scroll. The paper felt like butter in his palms, so smooth and alien, with an even odder looking strap of leather tying it together. “A teleportation spell in case you need to head back to Anku, specially made by the old bird.”

Vendil only nodded, knowing better than to question the reasoning of Starlings. “Well, I appreciate it. I’ll have to thank him later.”

A shrug was his response as Arthan quickly plopped his hat back on his head. “The man might be gone by the time any of us get back to Anku. They’re getting ready for the ‘Grand Voyage’ and all that. Thankfully, the old bird is staying behind.”

“The king?”

“Nah, the old bird.” he clarified, not bothering to explain further as he slung his pack over his shoulder after rising to feet. Huffing, he glanced over at the innkeeper who kept himself busy with the soup. “Well, I might see you around later. Might even visit the palace for work.”

“Interested in joining Narathzul’s army?”

“Fuck no, just need the work. Narry can kiss my hairy ass.” he mumbled, rifling through his pockets to slap some coins down for the meal. “Enjoy yourself, you hear?”

“I hear.” he replied yet he didn’t receive an answer nor did he expect one. Glancing down into his beer, he huffed and began to chug. Midway through, his ears twitched at the quiet jingling that grew fainter with each step away. Almost on cue, rain began to fall upon the windows.

“Huberto… I think I’ll take a glass of whiskey if you don’t mind.”

[toosicktoocare]

prompt:  Oh my gosh i am so so so so happy that youre finally writing for the Batfam!!!! Ive been following you for awhile now and I'm glad that youve fell into the rabbit hole that is thos crazy family😂 For a prompt, how about Jason and Dick taking care of each other at home when theyre both in varying degrees of sick? Your last fic was amazing and I love your group writing. Have a great day

I’m glad you like my group writing because I STRUGGLE to write more than one person honestly, lol

Jason’s dragging his feet around the small convenience store, too tired to move, his muscles melting to hot, thick goo. He’s been fighting a cold for the better half of two days now, having picked one up from a sick kid taking residence in one of his shelters, and normally, he’d isolate himself in one of his safe houses for a few days to sleep off the cold, but with his shelters expanding outside of Gotham to Bludhaven, he’s too busy interviewing for team leaders and security to temporarily remove himself from the world.

Instead, he’s reduced to a sniffling, shivery mess of a man who’s wandering a convenience store in Bludhaven at 1 AM. His head is hot and feeling like it’s stuffed to the brim with cotton. His concentration is waning under the thick, pounding pressure in his head, slowing his thoughts down to basic, one-word sentences as he scans the shelf for medicine, hoping for a concoction that will kick this cold square in the ass.

“Jason?”

Jason was willingly taking his time, prolonging the inevitable bike ride back to Gotham; however, the sudden, incredibly unwanted, presence of one pesky bird tightens his muscles and clears his head enough to move faster.

“Dick,” Jason says, keeping his eyes glued to the shelf. “What a pleasant surprise,” he adds flatly, groaning when he spots Dick, with his badge on full display, walking toward him through his peripherals.

“What are you doing in Bludhaven?”

Jason sighs deep in his throat, the breathing coming off as a muted growl. He grabs a bottle of fever reducers and snags a few other bottles of varying medicines before he turns toward Dick. “Business.”

Dick cocks his head to the side, a small frown playing at his lips. “What business?”

“I’m sorry,” Jason bites out, “is this an interrogation, Officer Grayson?” His eyes find Dick’s badge, sharp, narrow, and incredibly annoyed.

Dick deflates before him, pocketing his badge with a few coughs. “No, sorry. Habit. Will you be here long?”

“I was just leaving,” Jason grumbles, though the second he turns on his heel, his body decides to remind him of the fucking fever he’s been running, and he stumbles, vision tunneling for a breath of a moment but just enough to have Dick wrapping quick hands around his arms to steady him.

“Woah, Jay, you okay?” Dick’s pulling Jason back to him, guiding him around until they are facing, and Jason can’t fight off the annoyingly strong grip, his body too weak under the weight of this persistent cold.

“Peachy,” he gripes out, jaw clenched tightly, and he holds Dick’s narrow, worried gaze with his own tight one, only moving to slap Dick’s hand away before Dick can press a palm to his forehead.

“Jason.”

“Dick Brain,” Jason sighs, shoulders slumping. “You can save the puppy dog look for one of the other bats. I’m fine.”

“You’re sick,” Dick presses, following Jason to the cash register.

“Yep,” Jason mutters, dropping the medicine bottles onto the counter. “It happens.” Dick muffles a few coughs behind him, and he peers over his shoulder, arching one brow.

“Bug going around the office,” Dick explains, clearing his throat. “Are you driving back to Gotham?” He follows Jason out of the store, and Jason sighs long and loud, free hand dropping to his bike seat.

“That’s the plan.”

“Why don’t you come back to mine? Just for the night. You look terrible.” Dick means every word, the instinctive pull of older brother is bleeding into his voice. Jason’s pale before him, but even with the dull, flickering street light serving as the only source of light before them, he can still see two splashes or unnatural red coloring Jason’s cheeks.

“And watch you stumble around trying to play nursemaid? Not exactly on my list of things to do.” Jason thumbs at his bike helmet, wishing he could will this conversation to end faster.

“Jay, I don’t think riding back to Gotham in your condition is a good idea.”

Rolling his eyes, Jason slips his helmet over his head and swings his leg over his bike, tucking the pill bottles into his jacket pockets. “Good thing bad ideas are kinda my forte.” He twists his key into the ignition, revving his bike loudly. “Later Golden Boy. Go get some rest. The sickly pale look doesn’t suit you.” He shoots forward, probably a little too fast, but the quicker he can forget about this small encounter, the better.

***

Jason makes it ten minutes outside of Bludhaven before he turns around, underestimating the ill affects his fever has on his vision. After almost flipping into a ditch three separate times when his vision frayed gray, he slows his bike into a U-Turn and starts toward the damn address etched in his brain, something he’s tried to forget but actively cannot.

It takes another fifteen minutes until he’s pulling up to Dick’s apartment and another ten to climb on jello legs up the two flights of stairs to Dick’s door. Forgetting it’s nearing 2 AM, he curls his hand into a fist and bangs against the door.

He hears coughing on the other end, growing louder, and then the door’s pulled open, and a gun’s pointed at his face.

Dick blinks slowly, eyes still riddled with sleep but hand frighteningly steady around the gun.

“Jason?”

“How come when I even look at a gun, I get lectured, but you have a guest stare down a barrel?”

Dick’s hand falls, clicking the safety of the gun on its way down. “Shit, sorry.” Frowning, he drags his gaze across Jason’s face. “You must really feel like crap if you’re actually taking my offer.”

Jason groans and shoves past Dick, legs wobbly but determined to get to the couch before he crumbles to the floor. “I figured your couch would be just a little better than a fucking ditch.” He sags against the couch, head rolling back and eyes fluttering closed, only opening when a palm brushes across his forehead.

“Shit, Jay, you’re really burning up.”

Jason feels the couch dip beside him, and he groans low in his throat, coughing weakly. “Just a cold.”

“You really believe that?” Dick sighs, nudging Jason with his elbow until Jason’s curling onto his side, fully reclined on the couch. He reaches for a blanket draped across the back of the couch and tucks it around Jason, worry spiking when Jason doesn’t try and stop him.

“No,” Jason says flatly, “but I do believe that you should shut the fuck up.”

“Well you’re still an ass, so I guess that means you aren’t dying.”

“Again,” Jason grumbles, succumbing, already, to the thick layer of fatigue coating him.

Wincing, Dick slips to his feet, arms wrapping around himself. “Sorry, I...”

“‘S fine,” Jason slurs, one eye slitting open. “Go sleep or some shit. You look like hell.” He nods off, face relaxing, and Dick lingers for a long minute, just watching, an older brother thing, he guesses. 

He only breaks his gaze when a dull cramp twists in his stomach, and he shuffles to his room, closing his door and flopping onto his bed.

***

Jason’s dreams are fitful, filled with hot, suffocating memories of the Joker, the Lazarus Pit, green hair turning toward green sparks of rage that dwell within him. He’s not sure what wakes him, but he’s thankful for it, his heart rapid fire in his chest, his clothes sticky and damp with sweat. He finds a now warm cloth on his forehead, and he pulls it off, frowning, mind thick and hazy.

He hears a loud gag and winces, pulling a slow gaze to the hallway and spotting the bathroom door closed. He’s even slower to his feet, his head feeling simultaneously too heavy and too light as he stumbles across the room and to the hall, stopping at the bathroom door. It’s gone quiet on the other side, too quiet. He knocks, swallowing back a spike of tension.

“Yo, Golden Boy. You still alive?”

He can hear ragged breathing, but then he hears a thump, and his heart threatens to climb up his throat. “Dick?” he tries, knocking again. Every inch of him feels wrong when he still doesn’t get an answer, and he takes a few steps back and slams his foot high into the door, wood cracking under the force as the door flies open.

Dick’s pulling himself up to his feet, bracing himself against the edge of the sink. He pulls a too pale face over his shoulder, frowning. “The door was unlocked.”

“You didn’t answer,” Jason growls, stepping into the room, grimacing at the toilet.

“Do you normally not try doorknobs first?”

“What kind of a brother would I be if I didn’t dramatically bust in to save you?”

Dick’s face falls to pure, vulnerable surprise, and Jason groans, rubbing at his temples as he shoves Dick to the edge of the tub to fill a glass of water for him.

“Fuck, I said the sacred word, and now you’re short circuiting.” His tone is flat as he offers the glass of water to Dick, who absently takes it, still slack jaw and wide eyed.

“You never say brother.”

“Easy slip up. Just means I’ve been hanging around you too long already.” He kicks Dick’s foot lightly. “Drink.”

Dick sips the water, the adrenaline subsiding until he’s only shivering slightly.

“Have you been throwing up? Before this?”

Dick shakes his head. “New development.” He eyes Jason’s damp face, cheeks still too red for his liking. “How’s the fever? I thought I was going to have to drag you to the hospital a couple of hours ago.”

Jason can still feel heat under his finger tips. He’s still exhausted, but his mind is a fraction clearer, so he takes that as a good sign he’s on the mend, if only slightly. “Still pretty high, but it’s going down.” 

“Good,” Dick breathes, relief smoothing across his worn features. “I was worried.”

“Ugh, stop before I throw up next.” Jason drags out each word, hunching over to smooth a palm across Dick’s forehead, finding it warm to the touch but not alarmingly so. “Finish the water then go back to bed.” He turns to leave, wincing at the damaged door.

“I’ll fix this,” he mutters, and Dick laughs lightly, falling into a few coughs.

“I’ll hold you to that.”