#I never realized how much I fucked around with his eye color. oops
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drew this for a template over on twitter. this is what 3 months does to a man
#I hit him with the transgender beam.#you know how it is#splatoon#spyke#spyke splatoon#my art#hes everythang but he's soo hard to draw#man looking at his canon design/proportions kinda like.... I want to go back to that.........#I never realized how much I fucked around with his eye color. oops
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Cool Whip
Rating M | WC 1330 | Ao3 link
Tags: getting together, first kiss, innuendo, bisexual steve and eddie, eddie speed-runs a sexuality crisis, inappropriate use of whipped cream, fast burn (these two have never gone slow in their lives), fade to black
Written for the STWG July 28 prompt "Oh. Oh."
Steve stared at Eddie in complete silence.
Eddie fidgeted under his gaze. “So. Perhaps. In this instance, giving into the gremlin that lives inside my head was not the best choice I could have made,” he said sheepishly.
“Really Edward. You don’t say.” Steve was still holding the incriminating weapon, had been since he confiscated it. Every so often he twirled it around in his hands.
“What if you uhhh, did it back to me? We’ll be even?” he offered. “Come on, it’s fine, I won’t even fight you on it!”
“Can’t do that because we’re at my house, not yours, and this was my last pair of clean pants and underwear. So, unless you want to walk around like Winnie the fucking Pooh for the rest of the night, maybe we don’t spray whipped cream down your jeans too.”
Steve ran an agitated hand through his hair. “I’m going to go take a shower and wash this shit off of my junk now, ‘kay? Just put the ice cream back in the freezer, we can do a movie night together another time, I guess.” Disappointment was written all over his face. Oops, Eddie didn't realize how much he must have been looking forward to watching Raiders of the Lost Ark.
As Steve turned around to go, Eddie knew he should let him. Unfortunately, Nosnum Eidde, the impulsive gremlin living in his brain, was still firmly in control.
“Wait, let’s not waste it. Let me clean you up!” He blurted out.
What?
“What?” Steve was staring again, this time with eyes wide in confusion.
“Let me…clean up the mess I made. On your body.”
“Eddie I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
It did sound like a joke didn’t it. But if it was a joke, why was the thought sending sparks of lighting along his spine.
“I don’t. Don’t think I’m joking right now,” Eddie said slowly. “Give me a minute here.”
It wasn’t like his brain had a perfect track record when it let Nosnum have the wheel. Like those times it had told him that he could climb the tallest tree in the trailer park without getting stuck at the top, or point out how hypocritical O’Donnell was acting during class without getting detention.
But it had also gotten things right on occasion. And with Steve standing so close, it was busy pointing out things Eddie hadn't thought about before: like for example, when Steve chewed on his lips in agitation, they became invitingly plump. And, despite the growing damp spot on the front, those jeans were still hugging Steve's ass perfectly.
Perhaps most importantly, he wasn't rushing forward to punch Eddie's lights out for insinuating, well. He just stood there with a faint blush coloring his cheeks. In his house, a place currently unoccupied by anyone else, not even Robin. While wearing a shirt that was just on the wrong side of too tight with his hair coiffed for a night out and oh my G-d—
“Steve…was tonight supposed to be a date?” Eddie was shocked the question fell out of his mouth so steadily.
The blush on Steve's face grew darker. “I mean, sort of? Was getting mixed signals from you but—yeah.” He shrugged. “We haven’t been able to hang out one on one since I figured things out. Thought I’d see how tonight went before making a move.”
“Oh. You. You had a plan to seduce me.” Eddie wheezed a little. "You like me like that?"
“I uh, kind of put two and two together about a month ago. Had a really long talk with Robin, and turns out apparently normal men don't want to, you know, make out with their guy friends. Or imagine Harrison Ford holding a whip when he’s all sweaty and—wait, what about you, Mr. 'Propositioning My Friends To Use My Mouth?’ How long have you known?"
“About five minutes consciously.” Eddie said in a strangled voice. “Maybe ten if we consider what I did to your pants subliminal foreplay.”
Steve snorted. The gremlin in Eddie’s brain was convinced this made him even more attractive. Huh, maybe this had been going on for longer than he had realized, if a snort could set him off.
“Not really sure what submarines have to do with Cool Whip, but yeah we can probably count that. Welcome to the ‘part gay’ club man! You’re taking this really well, no offense.” Steve pat him on the back, the brief contact sending more sparks through his veins.
“Yeah, in 1985 I’d probably be doing something destructive right about now.” Eddie agreed. “But the me of 1987 can’t really muster up the energy for another panic attack after finding out about inter-dimensional portals or. You know. Everything else that happened.” Wow, real smooth Eddie, way to kill the mood of whatever fever dream was happening right now.
“Besides,” he tried for a joke. “1987 Eddie has a high school diploma. My brain’s so full of facts there’s no more room for anything else unless we shove it into my mouth and—“ His eyes widened as he caught up with what he was saying. He ducked to hide behind his hair. “Uh, what I mean was, um. Yeah I’ve got nothing to say for that.”
Steve gave another adorable snort and walked closer. “We may have to work our way up to that one, but maybe I could give your mouth something else to put its lips around instead?”
“Dude that doesn’t even—what, do you want me to vacuum seal your mouth with mine? How would we, wait, please tell me that isn’t the secret move you pulled that had all the cheerleaders in school losing their minds over?” Eddie squeaked out.
Steve blushed again even as he laughed. “First of all I only ever actually dated like, three people in high school, I wasn’t as big a slut as rumors made me out to be. And okay that might have sounded better in my head, but in my defense I kind of can’t think of anything but kissing you right now.”
Eddie rapidly nodded his head. “Yes, that’s. We should do that. Please.” After a slight roadblock in which both of them on autopilot tried to take the lead and grab the other’s face, they finally managed to actually press their lips against each other.
And oh. Oh.
Look, this was far from Eddie’s first kiss. But this was the first time someone still wanted to kiss after seeing him eat eggs with maple syrup on them. Or who knew he secretly slept with his childhood stuffed animal. Because Steve wasn’t angling to get cheaper weed, or trying to get back at his parents by having Eddie knock on the door in his ripped jeans for a date.
Steve knew Eddie’s whole sordid history, and kissed him anyway, holy shit.
The kiss itself was short and relatively chaste. But after they stopped, Steve didn’t immediately lean out of Eddie’s space. Instead he gave the tip of Eddie’s nose a quick peck before resting their foreheads together. A giggle bubbled up out of Eddie’s chest.
Steve rapped his knuckles on Eddie’s head. “Everything okay up there?”
“You like me. Steeeeve Harringtonnn likes me!” Steve smiled softly at him as he cupped Eddie’s cheek in his palm.
“Yeah, I do, you big dork. And I’d love to continue this, but because someone sprayed whipped cream onto my junk, I need to go shower it off before it gets even crunchier because wow, this is uncomfortable.”
Now it was Eddie’s turn to blush. “Sorry about that again. But if you want maybe uh, maybe I could join you and actually help clean it off?”
Steve smirked. “I think we can work something out, yeah. Come on.”
Running up the stairs while Steve tightly held his hand, Eddie decided that perhaps this time, his brain might have had the right idea after all.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Later that evening:
Eddie: "Wait, I was flirting with you the entire Spring Break from hell wasn't I."
Steve: "That was point #1 on Robin's 'Eddie is into you' list."
Eddie: "In hindsight this does explain why she kept saying I could be myself around her last week. I used the opportunity to give her a 2 hour long intro to metal music lesson."
Steve: "Yeah, she said I still owe her for that."
@augustjustice @stellarspecter Come get your fast burn Steddie!
#stranger things#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#tinawrites#stwgdailyprompt#they're both bisexual your honor#this was originally a lot sillier and took a more sappy sweet turn at the end there#please don't put maple syrup on your eggs folks
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October Fic Rec
The Wolf by rororowyourboat - (Rating: G, Words: 3,901, sterek)
Stiles and Derek haven't seen each other in years, but after talking on the phone nonstop for months now, Derek is finally moving back to Beacon Hills. The day he's supposed to arrive, he stops responding to Stiles' texts, and then a blue-eyed wolf shows up on his porch steps. Obviously something has happened to Derek, and Stiles needs to help him out... right?
His Accidental Touch by Hidden_Orchard - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 12,859, sterek)
It happened accidentally, the first time. All the many and varied times afterwards, Stiles would hold his hands up and admit full responsibility for. But that first time – pure chance.
Derek needs a cuddle. Stiles - generous man that he is - would never deny Derek something he needs.
you're pulling on my soul by maevedarcy - (Rating: T, Words: 3,981, sterek)
Derek reached behind him and gave him a bottle of Mountain Dew. Stiles froze, at loss of words for the first time in a long time. Did Derek bring him Mountain Dew? How did he know he’d be here in the first place? And how did he know to get him the blue raspberry flavor?
“You always drink that when you’re at the loft,” he explained, as if it was obvious.
[Or, 3 times Stiles missed the signs and one time he didn't]
Kiss It Better by Hedwig221b - (Rating: T, Words: 1,640, sterek)
Eli was healthy, bubbly and happy most of the time, a perfect overly energetic and curious child, but sometimes he just gave Stiles this studying, almost suspicious long stare and pursed his little button nose, as if thinking very hard about something.
Today was one of those days.
A Little Push in the Right Direction by crossroadswrite - (Rating: G, Words: 3,708, sterek)
“Can I see your wolf face?”
Derek flushes all over, ducks his head and kicks the carpet awkwardly. “I, uh, can’t really shift into my beta shift.”
Stiles squints at him and for a split second the color of his eyes turns liquid, like there’s whiskey sloshing around in the irises. It’s subtle enough that it could pass for a trick of the light but Derek knows better; growing up peeking at an array of supernatural creatures from behind his mom’s legs taught him enough to take a step back.
“Maybe you need a push.”
Fix my car and fix my tubes by TalesoftheEnchantedForest - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,297, sterek)
Derek fixes Stiles's car and Stiles is just really turned on by his skilled husband.
Thunder by TriskHellion - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 12,066, sterek)
The one in rural Montana where two strangers — a depressed, lonely Alpha Derek and a haunted post-Nogitsune Werefox/Thunder Kitsune Stiles — leave everything behind and end up finding each other.
-----
Both of them seemed to realize they’d been staring at the same time, Derek saying “Uh, howdy” and the stock boy straightening up and asking if he needed help finding anything.
“Looking for a screw,” he said, after tearing his eyes away and scanning the aisle again. He was already groaning internally when the words were halfway out of his mouth and the new guy — Sean his name tag proclaimed at another glance — snorted before asking what kind while trying to keep a straight face.
My Sanctuary (is in your arms) by Karla_Kattz - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 23,670, sterek)
Stiles jumps out of his car and makes his way to the rear. Without giving it too much thought, he rips the trunk open. The wolf lifts its head and lets out a low whine. The wolf?! What the fuck! There’s a wolf in his car. Lying on Derek’s maroon jumper, that he was looking for two months ago - turns out, it has been in Stiles’ Jeep all the time, oops. Stiles throws the lid shut again and leans against it, heavily. He’s got no clue how the animal got in there, but it must have happened when Stiles put his bag in the car and then went back inside his dad’s house to get that damn energy drink. And now he picked up a canine hitchhiker. Fucking amazing. Honestly, why is this Stiles’ life? Why keeps stuff like that happening to him?
——— Stiles co-owns a wolf sanctuary, loves his job and his amazing boyfriend Derek even more. His life couldn‘t be more perfect. Except, you know, if it wasn‘t for his boyfriend‘s secret, his feral sister and the bunch of crazy hunters who are after them. Apart from that… yep. Awesome.
inevitable by EvanesDust - (Rating: G, Words: 2,294, sterek)
in·ev·i·ta·ble /inˈevidəb(ə)l/ adjective certain to happen; unavoidable.
…the one where Eli asked about how Derek and Stiles met and eventually fell in love.
Dress You Up by sffan - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5,057, sterek)
Stiles is spending a lot of time with the queens at The Jungle. He goes out with them on Halloween and bumps into Derek. Sex happens.
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"That's Not Mistletoe"
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MDNI
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Peter Maximoff x GN!Reader
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Warnings: Very Vague Angst, Pure Fluff, Cheesy As Fuck
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Christmas time rolls around only once a year and honestly- that seems like once too many these days.
Missions, missions and more missions... God, life is a real kick in the ass, huh?
Then there's the holidays where things continue to be chaos and you just- miss your family. Miss what it used to be like as a kid before everything went to shit. Oh well.
"Damn, who pissed in your cheerios?"
You look up to spot the one and only Peter Maximoff, standing there with a bowl full of cereal munching on it with his hand- Seriously, has this guy never heard of a spoon?
Is he your best friend? Yes. Does that mean you also think he's a hype-speed disaster? Definitely.
"Just a little sick of listening to Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree for the umpteenth time."
"Oooo, someone's a bit grinchy."
"Yeah, well- it ain't exactly 'The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year' for me."
"Maaaybe, I can change that."
Oh, you know that look in those big beautiful brown eyes. Deceptively adorable but most definitely going to get into trouble.
Peter is both the smartest and dumbest person you know. He can be super intelligent and quick witted but also often doesn't think things through fully.
However, you can't resist that charming grin and flicker of mischief. Deciding to up whatever this is into a game- a challenge. Peter loves challenges.
"Alrighty then. Go ahead and play my Silver Santy Claus. Make my spirit bright and merry."
••
You just lay pathetically on your back in the snow with the flakes falling on your face, not bothering to move at all.
"That is not how you make a snow angel."
"My bones hurt, Peter. You're lucky. Your speedy ass is warm by nature."
His eyes meet yours and there's something in the moment, his cheeks and nose ever so slightly red, snowflakes glistening in his silver hair. It looks like he belongs in a winter wonderland- genuinely got a bit of a cute Jack Frost look goin' on right now.
'Fwip'
Before you could stare too long in a silver blur he's abruptly flopped down into the snow by your side, star-fishing against the ground to make a snow angel, his foot nudging your leg in the process.
"Ah, god... Personal space, Peter."
"Oops."
••
Highlight of the day so far? Peter unintentionally ice skating.
He rushes by you carrying the cold wind with him, which is very much not appreciated given you were already feeling like a total popsicle...
He made a major error though- the sidewalk was a bit icy in a spot and you watch him go flying across the ground, feet straight out from under the poor guy.
You watch as he ends up face down in a random pile of snow, luckily he doesn't seem to be too injured or anything... So, like any good friend you start laughing like hell.
"Holy shit, dude. You okay?"
"Yep... Just wounded my ego."
He simply brushes it right off and flashes a bright grin up at you, snow clinging all over his face, some flakes trapped in his eyelashes...
Oh shit- cute...
Little did you know- his whole chest swelled with warmth at your laughter. It was like the cold and busting his ass was entirely irrelevant when he saw your beaming smile. This is all he wanted...
••
Decorating your room with Quickie? What could go wrong!
You stare at the stupid amount of silver tinsel just- everywhere. Like. He put it everywhere.
Because of course he went ham with the silver theme.
"We need more colors, Peter."
His elbow nudges your side as he comes to a halt by you, shuffling his feet and stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"Are ya kidding? I think silver suits you almost as much as it does me."
Your eyes glance down to realize you also got wrapped in silver tinsel as well, an unamused expression gracing your face as you look back up at him.
It is funny but you aren't gonna give him that.
"More color, Peter."
"Alright, alright... I'll go get the other boxes."
••
Before you know it- you have gotten really into Christmas. It feels like you're a kid again, arranging the ornaments just so on the mini tree in the corner of your room. Everything else that happened to make you bitter towards the holiday fades towards the background.
Christmas is fun when you have someone to celebrate with.
"Look who's gettin' into the holiday spirit... Seems I really am Silver Santy Claus."
Your eyes roll dramatically as you turn to face a clearly overly-proud-of-himself Peter. You'd think he just saved a bus full of civilians with the twinkle in his eyes.
"Yeah, okay, Santa."
"Wanna sit on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas-"
He was gonna crack a joke and tease you but had no idea where he was taking that and it also... Sounded a bit - well - yeah. An awkward pause follows and you can't stop yourself from laughing.
"Jesus, Peter. Stuff really just falls outta your mouth, huh?"
"The offer still stands."
Oh. Well now you're blushing. Not good.
He grins triumphantly rather than being embarrassed, instead just teasing the hell out of you anyway.
••
The colored light twinkle so vibrantly around your room, it truly feels like a fantasy land.
Your gaze lands on Peter who looks to be just as enamored by the Christmas lights, the colors reflecting across his hair and basking him in the vibrant glow, little flickers of blue, green, red and pink dotting in his big doe eyes.
He looks back at you after a moment and it seems he sees the exact same thing happening to you, colors dancing across your face in a mesmerizing fashion.
He points up at the ceiling to draw your attention there.
"Well, would ya look at that... It's tradition to kiss under it, right?"
"Peter... That's not mistletoe. That's a piece of a tree branch from the yard."
Not another word is uttered before your lips meet his anyway under the Christmas lights, Peter was never one to waste time after all. Fingers clutching onto his fluffy silver locks with his hands rested against your back to tug you impossibly close.
You taste the remnants of various sweets on his lips, warmth blooming through your veins as you two part after a moment.
"Does this count as your Christmas gift this year?"
"Shut up, Peter."
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{This is so stupid but I wanted to write something for Christmas LOL}
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{More Content}
#peter maximoff x you#peter maximoff x reader#peter maximoff x gn!reader#peter maximoff x y/n#peter maximoff#vee's x-men works
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All Roads Lead to Home
Summary: After attempting to settle herself in her new life in Vacuo, Emerald receives an unexpected yet welcomed visitor.
Pairing: Emerald x Mercury
Warning: angst
Word count: 2,808
A/N: kinda went a little wild with this one and it's over 2k...oops
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“I swear to fuck.” Emerald groans as the house key slips from her grasp and claters to the pavement. She swears again, bending to retrieve it. After a relentless day of helping Velvet and Nora transport food and other necessities around to the people of Vacuo, her patience had been spread thin. Trying, and failing, to unlock the door to her miniscule apartment is the last thing she needs.
Gripping the key again, she presses it to the lock, letting out a breath when it unlatches and she can shove the door open easily. The inside of her apartment is dark as she stumbles through, weighed down by the bags lacing up her arms, and she huffs as she sets them atop her dining room table. Wrapping her fingers around the handle of the fridge she takes a peek inside. She knows she should eat, that she can’t remember if she had lunch that day, but exhaustion pulls at her, and after surveying the minimal contents, she closes the door empty handed.
Slowly she begins to unpack her groceries, flicking on the kitchen light and moving slowly, wishing she hadn't brought so much home. It’s not like she needed it. She is alone after all, only one mouth to feed.
After the bags are unpacked she trudges up the stairs, her body heavy and thoughts heavier. The water of the shower is hot against her skin, digging into her tired muscles and soothing the ache across her shoulder blades.
When she dresses, Emerald slips maroon-colored socks onto her feet, reaching into her nightstand for her current book of choice. Her eyes roll when she realizes she must have left it downstairs, and she swears under her breath.
Looking in the kitchen, she swears again, brows furrowed as she makes her way into the living room, flicking on the side lamp, and stops dead in her tracks.
“I never took you for a romance-reader.” Mercury comments, her book open on his legs, ankles propped against her coffee table. A mug of whiskey is in his left hand and he tilts his head, silver hair falling against his forehead.
Emerald says nothing, too many questions threatening to fall from her mouth but none of them sounding quite right.
Where have you been? Are you okay? Did you miss me like I missed you?
Mercury raises a brow at her silence and flips the book shut, his legs dropping from the table and pressing into the floor as he leans his elbows on his knees. “I know I'm good looking but I didn't think I could render you speechless, Em.”
Emerald lets out a shaky breath, clenching her fists. “You asshole,” she spits, and Mercury grins. “What’re you doing here? How did you-”
“Find you?” he cuts off, that irritating grin still perched on his face. “As if I could ever lose you.”
“You did lose me!” she snaps, her bruised ego burning because how dare he. “You left!”
He frowns then, and lifts the mug to his lips before taking a sip. “I think you’re misremembering how things happened. I didn’t choose team Ruby and her band of saviors.”
Emerald grinds her jaw, crosses her arms defiantly over her chest. “I wasn't the one who decided to blindly follow orders.”
“No but you’d blindly follow Cinder, right?”
Emeralds fists loosen and she stares at the boy, now a man, who she had known so well, and had missed so much. Mercury glares back, his anger nearly palpable. She can’t necessarily blame him. She knows he had done what he thought was best, as did she. He is a survivalist, no matter what had transpired between them. He had gone, and she had stayed behind with the girl who didn’t care whether she lived or died, and then she had left too, had joined Ruby and the rest in the fight against Salem.
Emerald had looked for him. She had spent countless hours in the first days of Vacuo trying to pin his location, calling his scroll time and time again. He’d never answered.
“So what're you doing here then?” Emerald says quietly. For a moment, his face shifts, brows knitted and eyes shiny. The moment is gone a second later, and he takes another drink. She realizes as he stands that he’s tipsy, his mechanical legs keeping him from outwardly displaying it but his eyes had always been his tell, at least to her.
“We’re partners.” he says with a shrug, as if its that simple. Emerald rolls her eyes before putting her hands on her hips.
“Right,” she huffs. “We haven’t been partners for years.”
“So?”
“So,” she grimaces, narrowing her eyes “Why now? I’ve been here for-”
“Seven months, yeah I know.” Mercury says cooley, and Emerald feels her face drop.
“You’ve…been watching me?” she asks and feels the strain in her throat. “You’ve known where I've been for seven months, and you’ve said nothing?”
Mercury squints at her. “What was I supposed to do? Just come to your door knocking and say, ‘hey its the guy that left you with Cinder, remember me?’”
“Yes!” Emerald cries, and her blood thrums in her ears. Mercury presses his lips together in a hard line before throwing the rest of the whiskey back and setting the mug on her table.
“And how would you have reacted?” he asks, licking his lower lip. Emerald watches the action before tearing her eyes away from his mouth.
“I-i would’ve…” she tries, racking her brain for an answer. “I would have opened the door, punched you, and then asked you to stay.”
Mercury blinks, mouth twisting before letting out a bark of laughter. “YEah right.”
“I would have!” Emerald spits back, his demeanor angering her and she takes a step forward. “I looked for you, asshole! I tried to find you, I…” pausing, emerald looks down at her hands and finds them shaking. She’s suddenly so tired, the exhaustion melting into her bones and she slides onto the loveseat, puts her head in her hands.
“I looked and looked but I couldn't find you.” she whispers into her hands, not trusting herself to look at him. “After we lost Ruby and the rest, I knew I had to try. I couldn't…let you fall off and disappear like they did. I couldn't find you.”
Anger spikes in her chest and she snaps her head up at him, wet eyes staring. “But I also knew if you didn't want to be found, you wouldn't be.”
Mercury's expression softens, his eyes hazy and emerald drops her head once more. She sees his feet come into view, the leather worn in laces untied, and feels his hands on her shoulders.
“I’m sorry.” he says softly, and emerald sniffs, head bowed. Mercury crouches, his knees popping as he moves his face into her line of vision. She looks at him, sniffs again, her heart hammering at his proximity. It had been so long since she’d seen him, much less touched him, and she swears under her breath before she loops her arms around his neck and drags him to her, hugging him tightly.
Chin on his shoulder, Emerald squeezes her eyes shut, feels his hands creep around her waist and she absently remembers all she’s wearing is a long shirt, underwear and socks.
“You grew your hair out.” he says softly, one hand cupping the back of her head, fingers digging into the locks. Emerald gives a watery laugh.
“Cinder liked it short,” she whispers, pressing her mouth lightly against the fabric of his clothing. He smells of copper and her heart aches at the familiar scent. “Thought it was time for a change.”
“I agree.” Mercury hums, pulling back so he can look at her. He cups the left side of her face, thumb rubbing under her eyes and she sighs, shutting her lids. “I’m sorry.”
He presses his mouth to her cheek, his lips light as he murmurs. “I’m sorry.”
Moving his face, he kisses her closed eyes one at a time, her nose, mummering apologies against her skin as he goes.
“When did you become such a softy.” Emerald whispers as his lips ghost over the apple of her cheeks. Mercury chuckles, kisses the corner of her mouth.
“Just for you,” he replies, and chastly kisses her on the mouth before pulling back. “Always for you.”
Emerald swallows, tipping forward the smallest bit and Mercury closes the space, their lips meeting in the middle. She nearly sags against him, her fingers on holding to the seam of his shirt as her eyes close. He tastes of whiskey, his tongue warm as it prods her mouth and she hums, elated at the feel of him.
They kiss until their gasping, cheeks flush and chests heaving, and when he pulls her to the floor, her thighs bracketing his hips, she doesnt stop him. Her shirt rides up her legs as his hands glide over her skin, fingers digging into her flesh. She hopes he leaves bruises that she can admire in the morning.
Dipping her hips, she rubs her thinly covered core against him and he lets out the smallest of gasps, the sound sending shocks to her spine. Emerald puts her hands on his shoulders and repeats the action again and again until panties stick to her skin and Mercury loops an arm around her waist before flipping their position, her tail bone pressing into the plush of the carpet.
His face moves to the curve of her neck, licking and biting at the skin there and he presses against her, his want evident in the constricting fabric of his pants and Emerald yelps. Her shirt rides up, revealing the expanse of her stomach and Mercurys hand ghost over her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He sits up, her legs bracketing him as he tugs at his shirt, pulls it over his head. Emerald watches him silently, takes in his creamy skin, noting the new and old scars that litter his torso.
“You’re starring.” He says after a moment, his grin laced with a twinge of uncertainty. Emerald smiles, shrugs. “It’s not like you haven't seen it before.”
“It’s been a while since i’ve seen you.” she replies, her voice softer than she intended. Mercury pauses before he nods and pulls at the zipper of his jeans
“Speaking of…it’s um…” he swallows, rubs his neck. “Been a while for me too.” he stands up, tugging off his jeans, his eyes looking away from her.
Emerald shivers, remembering the last time he’d had her, and she smiles up at him. “There’s been no one else since you.”
Mercury’s eyes grow wide as he tosses his jeans aside and kneels back to where she lays before crawling over her frame, their noses brushing. “Really?”
His hands are cool as he grips her shirt, tugging it upwards. Lifting her arms, Emerald lets him pull it clean over her head, and her skin chills in the evening air. With nothing but the warm glow of the lamp, she finds his face and can’t help the grins that blooms.
“Mhm,” she says simply. She found it a bit embarrassing, her lack of experience. Mercury knew she had been a version when they’d had sex the first time, and had been so generous during her first time, that it felt wrong to try and find that with anyone else.
He dips his face to her breasts, kissing one while teasing the other with his hand. She arches slightly, breathing out hard. Moving his face up, he kisses her before tugging at her lower lip.
“Me too.” he says against her chin and she almost questions him, her mouth opening to ask but words fail her as his hand strokes her through her panties. He moves it to the side, a singular finger tracing up her slit at a dangerously slow pace and she wines.
He groans, drops his forehead to her collarbone. “Gods, I missed that.”
Emerald spreads her legs an inch further as he settles himself, rubs his length up and down her a few times. She lets out a frustrated sound and Mercury raises his head, lifting a brow with a boyish grin.
“You’ve always been patient with me,” he murmurs, positioning his length. “Where’s that patience now?”
Emerald narrows her eyes before moving her hand to his neck, tugging at the hair at the base. “Shut up before I forget how much I missed you.”
Mercury grins and then he’s pressing in and Emerald forgets to exhale.
His forearms quiver as he presses to the hilt, stilling his movements before his eyes raked over her face.
“Still with me?” he asks softly, kisses her jaw.
Emerald nods, feeling full in a way she hadn’t in so long. “Always.”
Mercury pulls back painfully slow, the burn a delicious ache as he gives a nearly experimental thrust. Emerald inhales sharply, grips his neck with one hand, and groans as he gives another shallow thrust, as if aiming through. His body shakes with restraint, his right hand coming to her left nipple to pluck at it before moving down and pressing to her stomach. Adjusting his angle, his next thrust hits something within her that liquifies her insides.
“Oh gods,” EMerald whimpers. He continues to press, his hand low enough that it grazes her clit and Emeral begins squirming, unsure whether to push his hand further or get away from the stimulation. “Oh gods oh gods.”
“This isn’t how I thought our reunion would go,” Mercury says gently, the softness of his voice catching her off guard. “But I can't say I'm disappointed.”
Another thrust, another swipe of his thumb and press of his hand and she feels her eyes roll back, gasping for air as a wave crashes over her. Stomach tightening, Emerald scrambles for anything to hold onto and drags his face to hers, kissing him hard.
As the fuzziness in her head dissipates, he’s fucking her hard and fast, kissing her mouth and jaw, the metal of his legs cool against her heated thighs. He’s muttering against her skin, saying things she hadn’t heard in so long and her orgasm made everything wetter, their bodies sounding utterly obscene.
“Need to,” Mercury pants. “I need to…”
Emerald nods quickly. “Yes. Give it to me. Please?”
His hand moves to her breast again, massaging and she whimpers. “Where?”
“Inside me.”
Mercury’s hips stutter, and he squeezes his eyes shut for a quick moment before they open again, molting silver staring into heated red.
“You sure?” he questions and Emerald nods, pulls his mouth towards hers to bite his lip again, pushing her hips to meet his thrusts and clenching around him until his fingers tighten into fists.
“Fuck, fuck,” Mercury mutters, his thrusts becoming more erratic. “Fucking perfect, Em.”
She can sense he’s close and right before he topples, Emerald props herself up and tugs at one of his arms, making him nearly collapse right on top of her, making his movements halt. She takes his chin in one hand, and with the smallest bit of tenderness, tugs his face towards hers.
“Never leave me again,” She says, and he swallows. “Say it. Never. Because I won't survive it. Not again.”
The corners of Mercury's mouth dip but his eyes are bright and he nods, his head bobbing in her grip. “Never.” He echoes. “I swear, Em. It's you and me. The way it’s supposed to be.”
He sounds young again, like the boy she had once known and Emerald inhales through her nose before releasing his chin. “Okay. Now fuck me.”
Mercury groans into her mouth, clutching her against him, pumping until he’s spent. She lies back and pulls him with her, teeth in his neck and traces patterns on his back as his shaky breath begins to return to normal.
Leaning up, he looks down at her, the worry evident on his face. “I…that was…”
“Don’t,” she murmurs, tugs him down beside her. Their skin is slicked with sweat but she doesn’t care and tangles herself into him. Mercury spreads his fingers along her shoulder blades, nails scratching lightly.
Emerald bumps her nose with his in quiet satisfaction and he swallows hard, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Can I stay?” He asks in a small voice. Emerald smiles, understanding his worry. She knows it’ll be a hard transition. He won’t be readily accepted, and he’ll have to prove his worth, like she did. Nora and Velvet and the rest would give him a hard time, deem him untrustworthy.
She could show them. She knew him better than anyone, and could show them the Mercury she knows, not the one they met before.
Pressing a kiss to his mouth, Emerald leans her forward against his. “Like you have to even ask.”
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You know what's a not very smart thing for your brain to do? Get a plot bunny that insists on being written just before a new episode is going to come out and invalidate it. This will all need to be rewritten after "Oops" drops but I liked how it came out anyway and thought I'd save it here. Blitzo mentions having a therapist in S1E1. He was probably joking, but what if he wasn't?
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If it wasn't for Rasputin's Raspberry, he never would've gone inside in the first place.
Sure, it caught his attention almost every day as he trudged home after his shift: "COUNSELING AND THERAPY" in plain block letters, black on white, a sign that was so boring-ass and cheap that it stood out against the colorful crap that lined the streets around the Hellevator. The owner had scored a space in this prime real estate territory in a practical and traditional way: put a makeshift door at the entrance to an alley and stretch some canvas between the buildings for a roof.
Every time he saw the sign Blitzo wondered what kind of sad sack would pay for those things in Hell. Therapy was that human thing about lying on a sofa while someone with a clipboard asked questions about your mother. And counseling sounded like sex work without the sex, someone getting paid to just sit there and do nothing while you talked about your problems. Not exactly good value.
But today he wasn't trudging home so much as squelching, leaving a trail behind him, and frankly there wasn't much to look forward to when he got there. His steps slowed.
Yeah, who needed someone to listen patiently while they vented? Someone totally uninvolved who...might not even recognize any names and could care less if they did, who was getting paid to keep a straight face while he got it all off his chest for once...
He really was a sad sack, wasn't he?
Inside it was just an alley littered with garbage. The dangling canvas “walls” at front and back flapped in the breeze, letting in dust and the dim red light of Pride. The only things to see, in fact, were the hole in the ground and the sign next to it with a crude arrow pointing down.
Blitzo looked over the edge. Seven feet? Eight? The electrical cable at his feet ran down to the bottom and curved off into a tunnel, which explained why it wasn’t dark in there.
His survival instincts said Hello? Trap? Go down there and you could die, dumbass.
The darker voice he’d been hearing lately said How much do you care?
By the time he was six yards down the sloping tunnel, he’d realized it wasn’t a trap. Someone had put far too much work into this thing, even braced the walls and ceiling with struts of scrap metal. A green curtain hung across the end of the tunnel ahead of him for that extra-homey troglodyte touch.
Blitzo pushed aside the curtain and stepped into a surprisingly normal-looking room with white walls. A tall spindly sinner unfolded from the chair behind the desk and stood up.
“Are you lost?” They cocked their head like a bug considering a possible meal. Literally.
He’d never seen a demon so much like a preying mantis: huge bulging faceted eyes, curving claws like saw blades, even antennae sticking up out of their gray-green head. He couldn’t begin to make a guess at gender, not that it was any of his business.
“What the fuck did you do when you were alive to end up like that?”, he blurted in genuine admiration.
“Oh, you are lost.” Surprisingly, there was no buzz in the calm voice. “This is the counseling office, where people come to answer personal questions, not ask them.”
“Riight, the mother thing. Well, I’m not telling you jack shit to feed whatever maternal fetish you humans have going on, I don’t care if you’re fantasizing about fucking one or having one or being one or whatever, there’s plenty of fun things to do with tits but do them on your own time.”
They laughed, and now he could hear the droning buzz behind it. “You’re very energetic. No. No one here has to talk about anything they don’t want to.”
“So what, you sit in that chair and people yell at you about the shitty day they had?”
“If that’s how you want to spend your hour.” They held out a claw. “Twenty in advance, by the way.”
What the hell, he was already here and it was less than he’d spend at a bar in the same amount of time. Blitzo pulled out his wallet and gingerly stuck a couple of bills onto the big spine that curved up from their palm like a permanent middle finger. The sinner plucked them off deftly and sat back down.
“The floor is yours.”
His father was wrong. He did not freeze up in front of audiences, that was not a thing that happened, forgetting a line or two and improvising was not the same thing. But standing there looking at a hundred tired, defeated looking Blitzos reflected in those disco ball eyes, he wasn’t sure where to start.
After a few moments of silence the sinner asked, “What is that red stuff you tracked into my office, anyway?” They didn’t sound angry, just curious.
Blitzo looked down at the red glop all over his lower legs and feet. “That...is the signature slurpee flavor of the most popular ride at Loo Loo Land this season, Dunk the Monk.”
“What kind of ride is that? A waterslide?”
“No, see, there was this human a long time ago who was really hard to kill, or something? Everyone gets issued a gun, and you ride around in little carts on a track past these displays of all the different ways to kill him, and if enough people shoot the target on each one -”
“I get the picture. “
“It’s pretty clever, I have to admit. And the music track slaps. The slurpee flavor tastes like ass though.”
“And you’re covered in it because…?”
“Because the dispenser was broken again, and when you take it apart to fix it half the time the contents spray all over. Preferably on the customers, it makes them look like massacre victims and most of them love it, but today the whole machine just came apart in my hands like the useless piece of crap made out of Satan’s pubic hair shavings that it is.”
“So you work at Loo Loo Land. Fixing things?”
“Doing whatever shit job needs doing. Anything and everything, if it’s grubby or gross, give it to Blitzo and laugh. If I’m lucky I get to put on the world’s lamest clown costume and hand out balloons next to the fucking robot star. I haven’t been allowed on a stage since -”
“Since?”
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Okay.”
So that dropped the conversational ball with a thud. But it was picked up and handed back to him: “So if this was a bad day, how does a typical day go for you? Start to finish.”
“Oh, I, uh...” No one had ever asked him a question like that, not and stuck around for the answer. Huh. “Well, I get up, obviously, my tiny shitty apartment is all the way out at the ass-edge of Imp City but at least I have a place of my own now, if I had to stay in the company dorms one more night someone was gonna die, anyway I have to get up at 4am to be on site by 6 and get yelled at with everyone else because yesterday’s sales…”
Twenty minutes later he was pacing back and forth, waving his arms around like one of the puppets on fire in the daily Punch-and-Judy show. “- and we were having a great time, those kids LOVED my balloon animals, until one humorless bitchmom complained that they were “too anatomically correct”. Does she have any idea how hard it is to perfect a balloon horse with a dick? No. Did she get me banned from the only fun thing I still got to do in this festering shithole? Yes.”
He paused, panting. “Okay, yeah, it did feel good to get all that out there. I feel like I just puked up everything I shouldn’t have ordered from Wackdonalds in the last year.” Ten pounds lighter, slightly dizzy, and ready to fall asleep on the nearest safe flat surface. Too bad that was far away in his apartment.
“I have questions,” said the sinner.
Blitzo dragged over the rickety chair that was the only other piece of furniture in the room and sat on it, carefully. “Oh yeah? I wouldn’t brag about it, that shit can be contagious.”
They leaned back, rasping one forearm against the other slowly with a sound like sandpaper. “Is there anything at all you enjoy about your work now?”
“Uh, were you paying attention at all?” For a moment he was tempted to demand his money back. “...I guess there was nothing about listening comprehension in the deal, huh. The answer is no.”
Scraaape. “Then why do you stay?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re clearly not a prisoner, or you wouldn’t be here,” they pointed out. “Why do you get up every morning and go back?”
Well that was a stupid question, he had to because - “I’m a circus imp. See this mark on my forehead? That’s the troupe I was born into. I learned how to walk on my hands as soon as I could walk on my feet, the three of us were the Toddler Terrors act for a while until Barbie decided she wanted to do highwire and me and Fizz went for clowning -”
He hadn’t meant to talk about Barbie or Fizz. Fuck. Blitzo shut his mouth.
A thoughtful clicking noise was the only sound from the other side of the desk. The silence stretched out, and out, until he started talking again just to fill it.
“Anyway… you don’t just stop being a circus performer.” Barbie had. “You stick with your family and your dream, and...” Fizz hadn’t. His piece of shit father certainly hadn’t. “What the fuck do you know about it? If you had all the answers you wouldn’t be spending your afterlife in a hole underground hoping an angel doesn’t spray you with DDT.”
“I don’t -”
“”Exterminators”, ha! Get it? Because you’re a bug?”
Their stupid upside-down triangle of a face didn’t even change. Great. Annoying people was his best skill as an adult and he was failing at that too.
“Your time is almost up, so let’s finish with a thought experiment. Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because you want to get full value for your twenty. Close them.”
Blitzo did, with an irritated huff, because he couldn’t actually think of a reason not to. This still beat any of the other options he’d had for the evening.
“Imagine that it’s tomorrow and you’re getting up for work and turn on the radio, and hear that Loo Loo Land was destroyed. A freak accident, a turf war, whatever. You’re out of a job. You don’t know how you’ll pay next month’s rent. You’ll never see any of those people again. What do you feel, as you hear that news?”
He could lie, but what would be the point?
“...Relieved,” he admitted. “And worried, and also pissed off because I wanted to be the one to blow the fucking place up, but mostly relieved.”
“Now imagine it’s tomorrow and you get up for work and go in, and the next day and the next for the rest of your life. How does that prospect make you feel?”
No words were adequate. Blitzo made a noise that no dom had ever managed to beat out of him, not even that one guy with an electric cattle prod.
“It sounds as though you know what you need to do, then.”
How was he supposed to argue with the evidence that just came out of his own mouth? It was true. The place was killing him. He’d been telling himself to suck it up and get through one more day and week and month as though the next one would somehow magically be better. And he always knew it wouldn’t, but the alternative was terrifying.
And now it was right in front of him, inescapable.
“But...what can I do instead?” Thank fuck he was talking to a random sinner in a hole. The robot would laugh until it hiccuped sparks. And if Barb or Fizz heard him sounding this small and unsure – it didn’t bear thinking about. He would head straight to Envy and walk into the ocean first. “I don’t know how to do anything else.”
It took a few seconds for him to realize that the chittering sound was laughter.
“I’ve just sat here and listened to you tell me about your skills, yet you don’t realize you have them? Not many people can crawl into a duct and kill an infestation of hellipedes with nothing but a stick covered in chewing gum. Even fewer would be able to rescue the show after they fell out of the duct onto the performer.”
“The audience threw things at me. I don’t even know why so many of them had rocks.”
“But they had fun, didn’t they? You said they laughed at you.”
“Yeah, uh, you’re not helping boost my confidence here.”
“The point I’m trying to make is that you have nerve, strength, reflexes, the ability to think on your feet, and a certain kind of obnoxious charisma. You’re creative – the method you used to kill the cotton candy vendor and the park mascot at the same time, while giving yourself a solid alibi by being caught sucking off the ferris wheel operator? Agatha Christie could never.”
Blitzo felt his face growing warm. Positive feedback wasn’t something he got a lot of these days. “Welll, I didn’t exactly know all those kids would be able to see us from above. But it worked out. I guess it was pretty clever.”
The sinner grinned at him, showing – teeth? Mandibles? Whatever – in predatory approval. “Since I got here I’ve heard a lot about how imps are natural-born servants and followers. You’ve proven to me that’s bullshit in less than fifty minutes. Get out there and you’ll find no shortage of ways to use your talents.”
“Yeah. Yeah! You’re right, there’s got to be something.” Ideas were popping up in his brain suddenly. He’d never thought much about what the marks did with their boring little lives once they went home. A lot of things, that’s what. Things he could do better.
They extended a long, saw-toothed arm and pointed at the door. “Time’s up. Come back someday and tell me how it went.”
Too full of thoughts to bother answering, he went. As he reached the door, the sinner said, “And one more thing.”
“Yeah?” Blitzo answered, not turning around.
“Don’t feel guilty about abandoning the life you were born into or your dream or any of that shit. You already have. That place isn’t a circus, is it? You owe them nothing.”
“I don’t, do I?” He grinned, as a whole new set of thoughts floated up like champagne bubbles. “Later, bug-man.”
He wasn’t going to put in two weeks notice, that was for sure. But he could take a few days to make plans and leave some presents behind for his soon-to-be-ex coworkers. As he climbed back out of the hole and stepped out onto the street, Blitzo started to whistle cheerfully.
That had been a fucking good peptalk. It was worth more than a twenty, if he was being honest. Luckily he had just the right tool to leave a tip. That cheapass sign was looking a lot less boring by the time he put the marker back in his pocket and started the long walk across the city to his apartment.
Where would he be a year from now? Dead? Rich? In jail? Not at Loo Loo Land. The world was his oyster and Blitzo was going to pry that sucker open and do fish sauce shots. Just you watch, Fizz, he swore. Just you watch.
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Rockstar Dabi (Touya) x fem!Reader
⇢ word count: roughly 6.9K
⇢ series plot: after receiving a VIP ticket to a concert of the most popular rock band, you go and it proves to be a life-changing event.
⇢ current plot: With you being back at home again, Dabi is spiraling out of control. And then one day, you receive a mysterious phone call.
⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, kissing, fellatio (m receiving), fingering, kind of dubcon, a*** sex, creampie, orgasm, substance abuse, angst, hurt, major character... oops,.did ì say this??
Personal note: it's been half a year since i started this series and it has finally come to an end (maybe). I don't know how to feel. Sad, happy… all of it actually. I am so glad you all joined me on this Rollercoaster ride of emotions and hurt. Hope you enjoyed it.
Thank you @/hunajan for being my beta again!
It was late at night when Tenko came back and shuffled his way down on the plush carpet of the hallway. He was just unlocking the door when he heard a rhythmic thumping and muffled moaning coming from Keigo's suite.
It happened often enough that Keigo had groupies over. So without thinking much about it, Tenko stepped into his suite and locked the door behind him.
The next morning came way too early, with the band having to move on to the next city. After packing his bags and ringing for the luggage boy, Tenko opened the door and stepped outside into the hallway. He was surprised to see Dabi and Hawks entering the hallway together from Keigo's room.
It took a few moments before realization was hitting him. Hard.
"Dabi, what's going on?" Tenko looked around, not seeing you.
"Well, what did it look like," Keigo laid his arm around Dabi's shoulder, a pleased grin spreading on his face. "We spent the night together."
"Dabi, what the fuck did you do?" Tenko looked at him, his crimson eyes glowing behind unruly bangs.
But the lead singer scoffed in response, "C'mon Tenko, don't play innocent."
“What are you talking about?” He replied with a frown.
"That you were trying to steal my girl!" He spit back.
"Stealing...?" Tenko’s eyes were large in shock, "Dabi, what the fuck is going on?"
"Don't pretend, Keigo showed me the pictures!" His finger dabbed in Tenkos direction, his face starting to contort with anger, "You fucking kissed!"
"We kis—what?" Stunned for a moment, he then turned to Keigo, rage in his voice, "Keigo, you idiot, what have you done?"
Keigo shrugged, "Just showed him the truth."
"What truth?" The drummer narrowed his eyes.
"That she's just another girl trying to get some dick.” He grinned, but his smile never reached his eyes.
Tenko’s eyes flicked back to Dabi's bright azures, "She didn't kiss me, for fucks sake! It was me who gave her a peck on the cheek!"
Dabi crossed his arms on his chest, cocking his head. "Oh really. What about taking the cab together?"
“I hopped off before she reached the mall." He growled. " I can't believe this shit. Dabi, I asked her for advice regarding this girl I'm dating!"
"You're… dating someone?" He looked baffled, "I thought you and her–"
"Yeah, what did you think? That we were cheating on you?" His crimson eyes glared at Dabi from underneath his pale bangs. "How lowly do you think of me?"
His words stroke like a jolt of lightning, leaving Dabi swaying on his feet, a crippling cold gripping his heart. He stayed voiceless, letting the silence take over.
"But Keigo said…" he finally muttered.
"Keig– what the fuck!" Tenko rasped through gritted teeth, "What have you done?"
"Whatever, this is annoying. He's better off without her anyways, see ya later," and he pecked Dabi on his cheek, squeezing his butt before walking off.
"And you think you're better for Dabi than her?" Tenko yelled after him, "Keigo, I swear to God, you're gonna fucking pay for this!"
Then he spun around to face Dabi, who stood in front of him, pale, all color drained from his face. His chest heaved up and down, his mind having a hard time processing what just happened.
"Dabi," Tenko rasped, growing impatient. "What mindset were you in when you did this?"
"I–I think I had a few drinks." He stammered, still trying to wrap his sober mind around the news.
"Just a few drinks, huh?" Tenko cocked his head, pale locks falling off to the side.
"M-Maybe a few more. And I took some…" Dabi's eyes flicked to the floor and back to his band mates.
"Goddammit Dabi, you need to stop taking this shit." Tenko was slowly losing his composure. "It's gonna ruin your life. It's gonna ruin you!"
Dabi lowered his head, his stomach in knots.
"Man, you need to lose your insecurities. She only wants you!" Tenko inhaled deeply before continuing, "She told me so herself."
And Dabi knew his band mate was right. He felt the truth like a hard punch in the gut, shocking and painful enough to make his stomach acid rise to his tongue.
"I'm so fucking stupid." He started to clench his fists.
"Where is she anyways?" Tenko looked towards Dabi's suite.
"She left last night." The black haired male admitted quietly.
"Fuck." Tenko dug in his pants to retrieve his cellphone. "Ok, lemme call her."
Dialing your number he held it up to his ears. After a few moments, he hung up and stared at Dabi, expressionless. "It says the number is unavailable."
"Shit–" Dabi breathed shakily and pulled out his own phone, repeating the steps.
He cursed under his breath, his heart descending to his stomach when he heard the robotic message saying that the number was no longer in service as well.
"She blocked us." Tenko groaned, raking his hand through his coarse hair, "Fuck man, you really messed up big this time."
Dabi's pupils were blown wide as he moved his eyes over the screen of his phone. Silence engulfed both men again as they looked at each other.
"Cmon, there's no use in standing here. We need to leave, the plane's waiting." Tenko squeezed Dabis's shoulder in reassurance. "We'll find a way, ok?"
And with one last look into Dabi's face, Tenko turned to strut off, stuffing his phone back in his back pocket, leaving Dabi behind, head hanging low.
He knew he fucked up this time. For good. He turned frantic, panic arising within him. A panic that was numbing, like a cold heat spreading through his body and gripping his heart tightly. His hands started shaking, it felt like he was gonna explode, that he was gonna go crazy, a dull pain and tightness spreading through his chest.
He gasped for air as he pressed the flat of his hand over his heart, cold sweat starting to spread on his forehead. His legs started to tingle and he dropped to his knees.
With sweat dripping down his temples, one hand still pressed to his chest, he started rummaging around in his bag. He continued wheezing until he finally found what he was looking for.
With trembling hands, the pressure on his chest still increasing he retrieved the pouch with a saccharine looking powder in it, ripped it open to dust the powder on the back of his hands.
Dropping the sachet on the plush carpet, half its content spilled on the long soft fibers, he lowered his head to snort up the powder – first in one nostril, then in the other.
It instantly hit the back of his throat, where it dripped down, while his nose and back of the mouth turned numb.
Relaxation spread through his mind and body and he leaned his back against the wall, head falling back as his eyes closed shut. A warm euphoria consumed him, all fears, all worries fading until there was nothing there anymore.
A weary smile crept across his face, that soon turned into a wide grin as he started chuckling, his entire body soon shaking with mad laughter before he brushed his nose off with the back of his hands, got up on uneasy legs and grabbed his bag.
Sachet of powder laying on the plush carpet long forgotten, he turned towards the elevator, preparing to meet up with the others.
When you finally stepped in front of the front door to your apartment, it felt like a major relief.
Setting the small suitcase on the floor, you lifted a hand to gently knock against it, too exhausted and tired to search for your keys.
Your roommate found you standing on the other side of the door, eyes red and puffy as you looked up at her.
“Oh baby, what happened? Are you okay?” She took your luggage and helped you inside, assisting you with getting your coat off.
“I am…” Your voice tipped.
Your eyes grew hot again, while you wondered if you even had any tears left to cry. But then your lower lip started to tremble and you sank your teeth into it – but the dam broke nonetheless and tears started streaming freely down your cheeks. Your roommate reached out to squeeze your hand and pull you in for a warm embrace.
She didn't say anything but the gesture was enough. She patiently waited until you found the strength to speak.
“We—split. This time for sure…” You sobbed as she squeezed you tighter against her.
She nodded, trying to comfort you with a reassuring smile.
"Cmon, Don’t cry. It's not worth it." She guided you towards the couch, stuffing a pillow under your arm after you sat down and turned to drape a warm blanket over you.
The couch slightly dipped in when she took a seat next to you, wrapping her arms around you for an embrace, palms stroking reassuringly over your back. She didn't say anything, simply held you, her chin resting on your head as she let you cry.
She stayed like this until the turmoil inside your stomach had subsided before getting up to prepare a hot tea for you both.
For the duration of the next few days and weeks, you stayed inside your apartment. Your roommate was your pillar of hope, your strength. She took care of everything, the cooking, cleaning as well as comforting you whenever she could. At night, she would sleep by your side, stroking your face when you had woken up again, crying over him.
By the time the crying bouts were over, you were left hollow inside - only loneliness, shame, fear, and hurt left. It felt like you had a gushing wound in your heart, like you were suffocating. And it hauled you down deeper into a frozen lake of emotions with every day passing by.
Regardless of how often he or Tenko tried to call or write you a message, there was no reply. Everything was answered by silence, and Dabi knew he deserved it. Still, he missed you so much, missed your voice, your laughter, the way your warm body felt when you leaned against him. He knew he had found the one person who could save him. Who he truly had fallen in love with.
Realizing that it was too late for all this, a deep feeling of hatred overcame him – one towards himself. The pain and rage inside him grew so deep and dark, it was like a black hole that consumed his soul, leaving him empty and without the energy to live.
Distraction came in form of a variety of pills and crystalline powder which were easily handed to him whenever requested. They helped him forget the agony he was feeling, helped him forget who he was. Taking them made him feel less worthless, even if it was just for a short period of time. Not being able to cope with the resurfacing heartache he was feeling when they wore off, he started requesting them more frequently.
And they were handed to him more than willingly. Because a rockstar in a constant state of haze and fake euphoria was better than one in distress.
The burn still lingered in his nose from the cocaine, the pungently bitter taste of it dripping down the back of his throat before he chased it down with a bit more whiskey. Alone in his dressing room, he didn't even hear the chanting of the crowd outside, not caring about them anymore.
Even the cigarette he had lit did nothing to calm his nerves and he considered taking another gulp from the bottle to numb all the emotions he didn't want to deal with.
Sucking in his cheeks, he took another drag, letting the smoke billow out of his parted lips.
Fuck this shit. Flicking the cigarette carelessly to the floor, his trembling hand reached out for the prescription pills sitting in front of him on the vanity. He noticed how boney his fingers had become. He didn't recall them ever being this thin, but at the same time he didn't remember having eaten I relentless days.
He chuckled to himself, and tried screwing open the orange prescription pill bottle. His fingers slipped and he grabbed the lid tighter, ripping it off in one hectic movement. The bottle toppled over, its content spilling on the counter. Plucking up several of the pills, Dabi laid them into his open sweaty palm, rolling them around a few times.
Wrapping his free hand around the neck of the whiskey bottle, he popped the pills into his mouth and lifted the bottle to take a few deep gulps, washing them down with the amber liquid.
Slamming the bottle back on the vanity, he stumbled back, stopped swaying before grabbing his guitar and kicking the door to the hallway open.
The tour was overall plagued by repeated instances of rough performances on Dabi's behalf, with him swerving around the stage or staggering his way through the concert and stumbling through the vocals.
Standing on the stage, Dabi's eyes peered cold and emotionless into the black void of the sky. The sounds of his own voice, the ones of his bandmates and the instruments barely reached his ears.
He wasn't even sure which song they were playing, and Keigo continued to steal concerned glances at him.
At one point, the bassist turned toward him and asked: “You need a break, man?"
But Dabi only clung onto the microphone stand and mumbled into it, not even looking at his bandmate, "No man, I need a fuck."
The crowd didn't even notice Dabi swaying, they were too immersed in screaming, too frenzied over his comments, not noticing the severity of the situation.
After the concert, Tenko and Keigo rushed Dabi back to the hotel, avoiding the waiting paparazzi, hungry to see yet again another rockstar spiraling towards their demise.
After they arrived and parted, Keigo draped his arm around Dabi's neck and guided him out of the elevator.
"Cmon, let's celebrate," he cooed, placing a chaste kiss on his temple.
"I want to sleep—" Dabi grunted in response, arms hanging low at his sides as he let himself be led to his suite on shaky legs.
Arriving at the room's bar, Keigo pulled out a bottle of whiskey and poured the amber liquid into two glasses.
"Here, have some, it'll make you feel better." He nudged Dabi before bringing one glass to his own lips.
Dabi took the drink and lifted it into his mouth, taking a big sip. His gaze had become hazy, staring off into the distance as he finished its contents.
Setting the glass back on the counter, the blonde leaned in closer and grazed Dabi’s ear with his lips whispering, "Did you mean what you said onstage, Dabi?'' before sucking his lobe into his mouth.
Dabi closed his eyes, a shaky exhale leaving his lips, while Keigo continued his eager ministrations.
"Keigo, what are you doing," he growled, his focus unsteady.
"Just giving you what you requested," Keigo's hand weaved into his bandmate's soft raven hair, pulling him closer as his lips started trailing down his pulse, placing soft little kisses on his skin.
When he paused, he muttered "I want you," before cupping Dabi's cheek and turning his face, lips hovering over his.
Then the bassist's mouth was on his, firm lips pressing against Dabi's as his tongue slipped in, tasting him, the burn of the alcohol on his tongue.
Visions of you flashed before Dabi's eyes and his stomach churned while he tried so hard to forget you. He just couldn't. Not your smile, your scent, your everything. There was only one way to end this nightmare.
Plagued by the pain in his chest, he gave in to Keigo's advances, lazily working his mouth against his bandmate's before he was pulled off the stool. He started stumbling towards the bedroom in Keigos embrace, his bandmates hips pressed against his body, making him feel the hard erection he was having because of him.
On the bed, Keigo was quick to remove Dabis shirt, latching his lips onto his nipple and starting to suck on it while the other started moving back and forth over the growing bulge in Dabi's pants.
"Keigo–" Dabi had his eyes closed, panting heavily while Hawks sat back on his heels, taking his own shirt off.
"Shush, lemme make you feel good, " Keigo cooed, moving to scoot his own pants off.
He stared at Dabi lying below him, dick straining against the fabric of his pants.
Placing his palms on Dabi's stomach, he started to brush up and down, savoring the touch, Dabi's warm skin underneath his palm.
"I always fucking miss ya," Keigo breathed, leaning down to start peppering gentle kisses on the skin on Dabi's stomach. "Every minute…"
The dark haired man stayed quiet, his forearm draped over his eyes. But the bulge and his strained breathing told Keigo what he needed to know – that Dabi wanted him too.
"I'm gonna make you feel so good, I'm gonna make you forget it all." He paused and added quietly, "And forget her."
It sent a pang through Dabi's chest, but it was quickly gone, the drugs and alcohol taking over, clouding his mind.
He felt Keigo's fingers swiftly undoing the belt and buttons of his pants, calloused fingers sliding underneath their hem and pulling them down.
Keigo was enthralled by what he saw in front of him. Even though they'd been together many times before, he'd always held his breath when he saw Dabi's cock. Girthy, slightly curved and adorned by metal piercings, it was simply mouthwatering pretty.
Sliding the pants off Dabi's legs, he went back up, gulping once before dipping down to kiss Dabi's length.
"Oh fuck," Dabi sharply inhaled between gritted teeth, eyes still closed.
Keigo took Dabi's length into his mouth, bobbing his head up and down a few times before releasing it with a wet pop, continuing by spitting on his fingers.
With his hand resting on Dabi's thigh, running soothing circles in it, two of his fingers spread his spit around Dabis' pink hole.
With a hiss, Dabi felt Keigo's finger slide inside him, past the tight ring and he arched his hips, trying to ease away from the stretch.
While Keigo kept muttering "Doing so fine, I know you can take it," he kept sliding his finger in and out, first one, then two, scissoring them to try to stretch the tight muscle. Keigo spit on Dabi's hole before plunging inside again, adding a third finger.
"I can take care of you," Keigo slurred, totally enthralled, "I will make you happy again. You will be happy with me again…"
Dabi threw his head back, a hoarse whimper leaving his lips as he felt so utterly stretched out. By now, he was a panting mess below Keigo, his thick cock throbbing and twitching on his abdomen with every slide of Keigo's fingers.
His bandmate pulled out and spread Dabi's legs apart, kneeling in between them.
"Are you ready, babe," Keigo purred, pushing his boxers down to free his aching cock.
But Dabi couldn't answer, his arm falling off to the side, his empty gaze fixating the ceiling, his breath coming out in short puffs.
"Ok," Keigo took his cock in his hand, letting a glob of spit fall on it to lubricate himself.
Lining it up with Dabi's entrance, the tip pressed against his hole. And bracing himself to either side of the other man, he slowly started slipping past the tight ring.
"Oh shit,” Keigo muttered, his head falling forward, eyes screwing shut when he felt Dabi's tightness around him.
Dabi's brows knitted together as he choked on his gasp, his hands fisting the bedsheets till his knuckles turned white.
Keigo pushed inside a bit more, then pulled back out. It was torture for Dabi, who moaned and groaned as sweat beads formed on his forehead. Deeper and deeper with each push it slipped until Keigo was buried balls-deep inside of him.
"Fuck, how I missed this." He panted, "How I missed you."
Looking up, he was worried seeing Dabi with his head turned, lips pressed into a thin line and eyes screwed shut.
"Dabi," he whispered, "I promise, I'm gonna make you forget," and with that, he started moving.
It was heavenly for the bassist. Not a pussy on earth could compare with the tightness and the heat of a man and Keigo groaned as he continued moving. With every thrust forward, Dabi's head bobbed against the headboard, his eyes staying closed.
Keigo increased the pace, the urge to make Dabi feel good so overwhelming — he wanted it to be like it was in the past, having his bandmate lay underneath him with lust blown eyes, the pleasure so intense for both of them, that they couldn't hold out for long.
He wanted to make him his. Smacking his hips forward, he grabbed Dabi's pierced dick and finally got a response when the man underneath him gasped for air, his eyes flying open.
"Hi there, pretty," Keigo cooed and started pumping Dabi's cock, letting a glob of saliva run off his tongue to drip on its tip, smearing it around for lubrication.
"Fucking feels so good – shit," Keigo grunted, leaning down to place a sloppy kiss on his neck, then latching onto his nipple.
He continued rocking back and forth, the sound of his balls slapping against Dabi's ass as well as of his dick sliding in and out of him echoing through the room.
Sweat beaded off his forehead as he felt himself hurl towards his high, feeling Dabi's cock starting to twitch in his palm, seeing his balls tensening up.
"Fuck, I'm close," he groaned, addicted to this all – to Dabi.
He leaned back, pistoning inside of Dabi now, mouth opened into a silent groan as his balls suddenly tightened. A deep growl left his lips, his hips stuttered and he came, filling Dabi's insides with hot ropes of cum while he continued pumping Dabi's cock.
Dabi bit his lips so hard it drew blood as he also reached his high, thick ropes of hot cum spurting onto his abs, shooting up all the way to his throat.
Keigo panted heavily as he leaned down, starting to drag his tongue over Dabi's chest, lapping up the salty cum while he kept pumping his cock, squeezing the last drop of his essence from its tip.
He continued licking all the white cream off Dabi's body, slowly softening inside until he slipped out with a soft pop.
Collapsing next to him, his flaccid cock rested on his thigh, glistening with cum in the dim hotelroom light.
"Fuck, I love this." He turned his head towards Dabi, reaching out to grab his hand, "I love you."
But Dabi didn't respond. He laid there, empty gaze staring at the ceiling.
After a few minutes he started to stir, scrambling off the bed and stumbling towards the bathroom.
"Hey, need me to–" But Keigo's question was cut short as Dabi disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.
Keigo sat up on the bed, eyes wide. He didn't know what to feel, what to think when he heard the sounds of his bandmate gagging into the toilet.
He continued sitting there, color draining slowly from his face while the continuing noises of Dabi vomiting were muffled by the closed door. When it went quiet, Keigo climbed out of bed and stood up to approach the bathroom door.
It was locked and Keigo sighed, hesitating a few seconds before turning and getting dressed.
One last time he knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He heard a movement and the toilet being flushed. Keigo's eyes closed for a second, contemplating before turning towards the door towards the hallway.
Just as he opened the door to step outside, he paused, raking a shaky hand through his blond hair before muttering, "What have I done…"
Dabi stood in the bathroom, the sound of the door falling shut behind Keigo reverberating through the room.
He looked into the mirror, azure eyes staring back at him. They were empty, there was no life in them. And that's when the words sounded through his head.
You're worthless, a nothing.
The glass shattered as his fist hit the mirror. He panted heavily, his fist repeatedly slamming into the mirror before he sank to the floor.
Worthless, nothing.
Dabi wailed out, as he scrambled to his feet, naked, stumbling into the bedroom.
His chest tightened again, the room spinning around him as he fell to his knees. Closing his eyes to block out the turning room, he pulled open the drawer of the nightstand, rummaging around in it until he found what he was looking for.
With trembling fingers, he popped open the small orange cylinder and lifted it up, several pills dropping into his mouth and he strained to swallow them dry.
Then he leaned his naked figure back against the bed frame, waiting for the drugs to kick in.
It had been weeks now, the pain had dulled out, and you had found your way into regular work life as well.
Your roomie was the best support you could hope for — always there to turn off the radio or TV once the LoV music was played or news about the band was distributed. She protected you from anything that would remind you of Dabi and the time with him.
Yet, she couldn't shelter you from the multitude of billboards splattered all across town announcing the upcoming special end-of-tour concert taking place in your town. They went up one day, thousands of led lights flickering to show the brilliant blue logo of the LoV.
And with that came back the memories. You caught yourself more than once with your eyes growing hot, telling yourself over and over again that you shouldn't cry, that this wasn't worth it.
[With your roommate being at work on this Saturday, you were left at home alone, with the knowledge of it being just another day of busying yourself and trying to keep your thoughts revolving around one topic. Him.
You sat on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, too afraid to go outside, too afraid for the memories to resurface again. Burying your face in your arms, you thought about how to survive yet another day of loneliness when suddenly your phone rang.
It chiming seemingly endless before it stopped and frowning, you checked your screen. An unknown number. Ignoring it, you placed the phone back on the table– when it started ringing again. It was that same number and with a deep sigh, you slid your thumb over the green icon, lifting the phone to your ear.
“Who is this?” you greeted.
"Please don't hang up, it's me, Keigo." A low, melodic voice spoke.
Your heart started running a thousand miles per hour and you needed a moment to steady yourself.
"Hey Keigo." You simply answered.
"Please - please just listen. I know this comes as a surprise, but…" You could hear him taking a deep breath, composing himself. “I— I need your help. Dabi needs your help.
Silence engulfed you, the ticking of the kitchen clock echoing like thunder through the room, pounding against your skull. You had to take a moment to process his words.
"Are you still there?" Keigo asked with a breathy voice.
"Yeah, I—I’m here.” you sighed, your nails digging into the fabric of your jeans.
"Please, I'm begging you…" His voice broke, and he had to clear his throat. "Dabi… he's not doing good."
"What do you mean?" You tried to keep your heart from skipping a beat at his words.
"It's bad. I'm—I'm scared." You heard his tone turn panicked.
A cold pressure constricted around your head as you rubbed a hand over your face. "Ok, tell me everything. But Keigo–"
"Yes?" His answer came timid but immediate.
"I want you to be honest. No more lying. No more pretending." There was no room left in your heart for more betrayal, "Understood?"
"Yes, anything you want." He whispered.
You closed your eyes, another storm starting to rage inside your heart. "Ok, now, what happened?"
Keigo didn't leave out any details — how he miscalculated everything, never expecting it to go down this bad.
You heard him break down when he uttered under his breath, "Dabi was literally the only person who knew me, and how I felt."
He continued explaining how he felt all alone when his friend replaced him with you, "It was selfish of me, I admit. I am sorry that I thought it was the only way for him to get back to me."
He paused and you let him.
"I've had a bad past, just like Dabi. We were each other's only pillar of support. I needed him so badly–" you heard him choke on his own words, heard how he teared up.
You heard him swallow and closed your eyes for a second, trying to process all he was telling you.
"But I didn't want him to be like this!" There was pure agony in his voice. "I realized that Dabi needs you."
And then he added quietly, "Not me."
The sounds of fabric rustling in the background could be heard as he moved, followed by silence. Several moments passed in which you could only hear the quiet breathing of him on the other side of the line.
"Keigo, it's a good thing that you realized you did wrong and learned from it." You paused before continuing. "I get that you felt lonely. Still, what you did wasn't ok."
"I know." Keigo said. "I am so, so sorry. I did wrong and I realize that."
You bit the inside of your cheek as you heard him silently starting to sob. You stayed mute, waiting for him to say something and he did.
"I'm scared. Dabi withdrew himself completely and his condition has gotten worse." He swallowed down another silent sob, "I—I have a bad feeling about tonight. Can you please come to the concert and speak to him?"
You were not surprised as tears started stinging your eyes with all that you just heard. It was a lot and you needed some air to breathe.
"Keigo, I need to think about it, ok?" You said with a shaky voice.
"Yeah, I understand." He exhaled, "But I'm begging you – you're the only one who can help him."
After he agreed to send a courier with the ticket and pass, you said goodbye and hung up. Your hands rose to hide your face in your hands. Because even though it was silent, the knots inside your stomach twisted harder, the heat in your eyes almost unbearable.
All the memories — moments and images – everything came crashing down on you. The pain in your chest turned numbing and you bit your trembling lips, your breathing turning ragged.
You kept telling yourself that it couldn't be that bad, that you hadn't heard any bad news about the LoV in a while. But then again, you hadn't really followed them either.
A feeling of unease rose inside you and you started pacing back and forth in the living room. A message notification sounded and you hastily picked up your phone, seeing that Keigo had sent you a message.
Courier dropped off the envelope. It's in your mailbox.
Followed by a picture and the following text:
You can still hate me but please help him.
At first you didn't recognize the person depicted in the blurry photo. But then your hand darted up to clasp over your mouth. It was Dabi. Except it wasn't him, rather a mere shadow of himself, skinny, with eyes and cheeks sunken in, skin pasty and pale.
It was night when you finally arrived at the venue, the concert already halfway over. Showing your ticket and pass to the staff, you were led backstage. It felt weird, like in the old times. Except this time it was different, somehow.
Your heart was beating out of your ribcage, palms sweaty as you entered the fenced off security area in front of the stage. The last song was just finished and the stage went dark. You stopped halfway down the stairs, too taken aback by what you saw in front of you.
The lights went back on and it was only Dabi being illuminated by a circle of light. There was hardly anything left of the once handsome, rugged lead singer of one of the most notorious rock bands alife. He looked more like a shell of his former self - thin, dark shadows lining his eyes, his movements shaky. His unhealthy paleness drastically stood out, even more so in the harsh stage light.
Stepping up the microphone, he waited for the cheers to shimmer down into silence.
Once they grew quiet, a hand naturally grabbed the mic before he started to rasp into the speaker, his voice lifeless and dark, eyes heavily lidded.
"This song…" but his voice broke and he trailed off.
Taking a shaky inhale, he started again, "This song's for someone special. Someone I loved – and lost too soon."
He closed his eyes, the stage lights making his contours pop out in stark contrast. Laying both hands on his standing microphone, he took a few deep breaths, before he started to sing.
(Listen to the song here)
"Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, oh no, no
Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, oh no
Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, oh no, no, no, no…"
His voice was low and gravelly, so full of hurt and pain it sent blazing chills cascading down your body. His eyes were closed, eyebrows knitted as he sang.
"I look and stare so deep in your eyes
I touch on you more and more every time
When you leave, I'm begging you not to go
Call your name two, three, times in a row.
It's such a funny thing for me to try and explain
How I'm feeling, and my pride is the one to blame
'Cause I know I don't understand
How your love can do what no one else can."
You stood there, frozen on your feet while repeating the lyrics in your head, eyes glued to every movement of his lips.
"You got me looking so crazy right now
Your love's got me looking so crazy
You got me looking so crazy right now
Your touch has got me looking so crazy right now."
You realized probably as the only person in the entire venue that this was a serenade that came from his heart, turned into a confession.
"You got me hoping you'll page me right now
Your kiss, you got me hoping you'll save me right now
Looking so crazy in love, you got me looking
Got me looking so crazy in love…"
His veins showed at his neck when he sang, sweat pearling down his face and neck. It was so subtle, that you almost didn't catch it but for a second, a painful expression jolted across his face, a hand darting up to clutch his chest. But then it was over, his hand drifting back to the microphone stand.
When he opened his eyes, they never look bluer than this, brilliantly glowing in the bright stage light. Yet, the usual spark that made them beautiful was gone. And as his eyes roamed over the crowd—
They fell on you. And his face went slack, all expression gone without a trace, suddenly drained of all energy. It was like the world stopped, all noises around you vanishing. It was just his brilliant azures meeting yours, and you felt a connection to him that was stronger than anything you've ever felt. Something invisible, a bond that still existed, far too deeply rooted to ever be severed.
And as his gaze never left yours, he continued singing.
"Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, oh no—"
He skipped over a tone, paused before he started again.
"Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, oh no, no
Uh-oh, uh-oh…"
And then he started losing his voice. You felt panic rise inside you when you saw him becoming breathless and starting to sway. It was as if his eyes were pleading for you to help, to stop the suffering.
Keigo had noticed Dabi's predicament and asked into the microphone, “Hey, you okay there man?”
But Dabi didn't answer, his eyes never leaving yours as a dark foreboding gripped your heart tightly. Everyone around you seemed to be oblivious to the fact that something terribly wrong was happening onstage.
He used his microphone stand to support himself, his beautiful azure eyes glued to you and you watched in horror as they slowly dulled over.
Oh my God you thought, your heart racing, beating a thousand miles per hour, oh my God, this isn't happening.
Dabi started swaying on his feet, taking a step sideways, catching himself before his eyes rolled back in his head… and he dropped to the floor.
The entire stadium fell into an eerie silence.
"Touya!" Your chilling scream cut through the quiet as you started running down the remaining flight of stairs.
Everything around you erupted in an instant. Keigo dropped his bass and ran over to Dabi, as Tenko jumped over his drum set to kneel down at his side.
Above all the noises and frantic screaming of the crowd you heard your own voice breaking, screaming Touya's name over and over again.
Panicking fans were jumping the fence and the security had their hands full trying to push back the crowd. Elbowing your way towards the front, your gaze didn't avert the lifeless body on the stage that now paramedics with First Responder bags on their backs were running towards.
You were almost at the front, just a few more feet, screaming Touya's name over and over again as Keigo's head flicked up and he saw you stuck in the crowd.
Jumping to his feet, he ran down the stairs of the stage to where you were caught in the frantic shoving and pulling of the people.
Your heart was beating so fast, it felt like you were running out of oxygen. But then a pair of strong hands gripped yours and pulled you up the stairs and onto the stage. Raising your eyes, you stared right into Keigo's golden ones, wide with fear and glossy with tears.
Stumbling to your feet you started running, slipped and fell, got up again. Hot tears cascaded freely down your cheeks as you finally dropped to your knees next to Dabi.
He looked so peaceful like this despite his pale complexion and sunken eyes.
Paramedics were now charging the defibrillator and you watched in horror as they placed it on his chest. His lifeless body arched up with the first high-energy electric shock surging through him. He slumped back and the men checked his pulse before placing a respiratory mask over his mouth and nose, pumping air into his lungs. Another medic started charging the defibrillator again, its high pitch cutting through the deafening noises around you.
Repeating the procedure while checking his pulse and breathing, other paramedics came running towards where Dabi laid, pushing an ambulance stretcher on a wheeled frame towards them, their free hands holding more medical equipment.
They stopped next to the lifeless singer, adjusting the height of the stretcher to the lowest setting as the other paramedics continued trying to revive him.
The world around you disappeared, the only thing you saw was Touya's limp body, the butterfly needles being stuck in his arm, the breathing mask on his face. As they lifted him onto the stretcher and pulled the straps tight around his body, you knew that it was over. That there was nothing you could do anymore.
And you went numb, a feeling of emptiness overcoming you.
You didn't feel Keigo pulling you up into an embrace as they pushed Touya off the stage. You didn't feel Tenko joining you, following them down the emergency exit to where the ambulance was waiting.
It was like all life had left you, all thoughts and emotions. Even your heart had become lifeless. You didn't feel Keigo setting you down in the Mercedes van, not the door closing, not the car starting to follow the ambulance through the gate down the street.
And you didn't feel the world tilting and turning dark as you lost the battle with exhaustion and fatigue, going limp in Keigo's embrace and slipping into unconsciousness.
#dabi smut#rockstar dabi#rockstar dabi smut#dabi#mha smut#bnha smut#dabi todoroki#bnha dabi#mha dabi#dabi my hero academia#touya todoroki#todoroki touya#bnha#mha#my hero academia smut#my hero academia#dabi x you#dabi x reader
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Between You and I
D is for DILF
Growing up, Sarah Miller was your best friend. You spent all your free time together until she moved across the country with her dad. Ten years later, Mr. Miller returns to find you still in your hometown.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: This is smut, but I consider it porn with plot. There is also an age gap, but reader is in her twenties, Joel is in his forties. I had this planned for a story, but decided to make it a one shot instead lol. But it’s super long. Holy fuck. I’m sorry!
18+ Minors DNI
Wednesday evening, you find yourself standing in line at Dreamy Beans Café with your friend, Harmony. You’re spaced out, cash in your hand, waiting to pay for your drink, but your eyes are focused on the television screen above. It’s a women’s soccer game, a sport you’re only a tad bit familiar with, but watching the match brings up recollections from your childhood, and it’s easy for your brain to get caught up in those.
Funny how soccer reminds you of your younger years even though you never played the sport. But you can reflect on the days you and Harmony sat on the bleachers watching your other friend, Sarah, kill it on the field. Those were the days. You had each other. And for the longest time, those two girls were all you needed.
You grew up with them. Your house sat right between theirs at the end of the street. And the three of you were all the same age and therefore inseparable. Even your parents got along well with each other. Of course, Sarah had a unique situation with her father being nineteen when they first moved to the neighborhood. But your parents and Harmony’s parents were there to help him out when he needed it. Mr. Miller was always a good guy...
“Hey, hey!” A sharp jab in your side jolts you back to life. A strange noise leaves your lips, and you shiver, turning around to yell at your friend before realizing you’re the asshole holding up the line.
“Oops,” you say innocently and hand over your cash, grabbing your drink - fruity tea because you hate coffee - in the process. Behind you, Harmony does the same before dragging you by the elbow towards the exit. She thanks a woman who holds the door open for the two of you, and you step out into the warm, breezy air.
“You back on Earth?” She asks with a laugh as she links her arm with yours. You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks, and you look over at her, scrunching your face up at her mischievous smile. So you’ve been a little flighty lately. Not your fault your brain wants to take a trip down memory lane.
“I was just thinking,” you mumble, sipping from your drink, invigorated by the fresh, vibrant flavors. A happy sigh leaves your lips. This is just what you needed today, a little splash of color in your murky world.
“Thinking about who?” Harmony asks, knowing that it’s obviously a person on your mind. The matchmaker inside of her will be disappointed to learn it’s not about your love life.
“Sarah,” you admit, taking another drink. “I don’t know,” you shrug. “I always expect to look up one day at those games and see her name and face, you know?”
Harmony nods. She understands. She misses Sarah just as much as you do. “Me, too.”
“She was so good,” you comment, thinking back on your high school years.
“She was,” Harmony agrees with a small smile. Her beige-painted nails dance around the rim of her cup in thought. “She was the athlete, you were the entertainer, and I was the brains,” she laughs.
“The brains,” you chuckle. But she's not wrong. Harmony is exceptionally bright. But she’s more than just a brainiac. Harmony is the whole package as far as you’re concerned. “And the beauty and the body…” You trail off before adding, “and the humor.”
“Hey, now,” Harmony glowers at the tone in your voice. She gives you a disapproving look.
“Oh, come on,” you scoff. “You were always the babe,” you point out. “Still are.”
“You are, too!” She insists, and the look in her deep brown eyes tells you she truly believes that. “You might’ve been a little awkward in high school," she confesses. "But you’ve blossomed, girl. I might even be into you.” Her voice holds a coyness you’ve grown accustomed to, and you can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face.
“Scandalous,” you huff, hand to your chest. “What would Elijah say?”
“He’d probably love another wife just to keep me entertained,” she declares with a smirk. You giggle and roll your eyes at the idea. Elijah is Harmony’s soon-to-be husband. They’re literally high school sweethearts, and you hate them, but love them with all your heart. You can only hope to find a passion like theirs one day.
“God, I miss her,” you mutter about Sarah. You never really got closure with her. In the middle of high school, she announced she and her dad were moving across the country. She said it was so she could pursue soccer at a better school, but it was so sudden, so abrupt.
“I do too,” Harmony adds. “And... I miss her dad.” You snort, and as much as you want to scold your friend, you can't. You miss him, too.
Joel Miller was the absolute hottest topic in the whole town for being a hot, single dad who loved his kid more than anything. After he hit the age of 20, every woman wanted him. But his world revolved solely around Sarah.
You were teens when you began to notice Joel’s attractiveness. You and Harmony would joke around, sometimes tease Sarah that her dad was, in fact, a DILF. She always hated you for it, but she knew you never meant any harm. You were dumb, immature teenagers with a silly crush that meant nothing. But you had eyes. And you always noticed the man.
“You off to work?” Harmony asks as you come to a stop at a busy intersection. This is where you part most days, Harmony for the hospital and you, well… When Harmony leaves, you have to take the bus downtown to a job you loathe.
“Ugh, yes,” you lament and pull a pained face. Work - like your love life - is an area that needs a major overhaul. But at least it’s money, a stable income. But, oh, what you could have been.
“It’ll get better,” your friend assures you, knowing that you’re unsatisfied with your life. Harmony is an optimist, though. But even more important than that, she truly believes that good things are coming to you. It’s nice to pretend, even if you don’t believe.
“Same time tomorrow?” You ask.
“Same time tomorrow,” she grins, giving you a hug before she crosses the street.
As you spin on your heels to head towards your bus stop, you bump into someone, dropping your cup in the process. The liquid splashes up, showering both you and the stranger in cold droplets. Instantly, you begin to panic. “Oh, fuck, I’m so fucking sorry,” you mumble out, scrambling to pick up your cup to avoid any more messes.
The person you ran into chuckles and brushes themselves off. You can’t handle meeting their eyes, focusing on your shoes, and cleaning off the tea that paints your only good pair of heels. You don’t know what to say other than sorry, but luckily for you, the stranger speaks. And it disturbs you.
“I never thought I’d ever hear you say words like that,” the man declares, and that voice! You recognize that deep voice. Your eyes widen, and the hair on your neck stands on end. Yes, you would know that voice anywhere. You glance up from the puddle at your feet and blink a few times.
“M-Mr. Miller?” You stammer.
“Hey, kiddo,” he smiles, and it’s so bright and charming, your pathetic little heart skips a beat. "You know we are older now. You can call me Joel."
It’s a weird feeling that pulsates through you. You aren’t sure if it’s shock, happiness, or his small resemblance to Sarah, but you jump into his arms, enveloping him in a tight hug. Joel, not expecting it, stumbles back a bit. He slowly hugs you back and feels a sense of serenity sprout through him.
“It’s so good to see you,” you say, almost tearful. “Is Sarah here? How is she?” You question, awkwardly pulling yourself away from the handsome man and looking around him for that cheerful girl.
“She’s fine,” he says with a grin. “She’s at college, working on her game, kicking ass,” he claims proudly. You try to hide your disappointment that your best friend isn’t around, but you’re happy for her. From what Joel says, she’s thriving. She deserves that.
“Wow,” you express. “That’s incredible. Can you…I mean, next time you talk to her, can you tell her that I miss her? That Harmony and I miss her?”
“Of course,” Joel nods, and you can’t help but let your eyes linger on him for a few seconds. He’s still a total DILF. He’s a bit older now, but so are you, and now you don’t feel guilty about your attraction to him. In fact, seeing him again has sent you into a spiral. Your teenage self would be so flustered right now.
While your mind is, once again, off in its own little world, you don’t realize that Joel’s studying you. He notices you gaping at him and coughs. That snaps you back into focus, making you apologize immediately. “I’m so sorry,” you say shyly. “It’s just been so long. You look exactly the same and yet so different.”
“I could say the same about you,” he says, rendering you bashful.
“So, uh, how are you? What brings you to town?” You feel like you have a million questions, but you don’t want to overwhelm the guy with all of them. So you settle on the basics and start walking down the sidewalk, hoping he follows you. He does.
“I’m back,” he says casually. “I moved into a place a couple of weeks ago.”
“Oh?” You question him, surprised by the news. That’s not the answer you were expecting, not at all. But you have to admit, it makes you a little pleased. Maybe you can properly catch up with him, not just a quick chat on your way to work.
“Yeah, you know, Sarah’s living it up, and I missed it here,” he tells you. “Talked to Tommy about going into business together. I’m real sorry. If I had known you were still in the city, I would have looked you up to say hello. I just assumed you would be on Broadway.”
You flinch a little at the mention of your former hopes and dreams. The shiny life you planned for is nothing but a fuzzy wish now. “No,” you sulk. “The only dancing and singing I do now is at a club.” Your mind bounces back to what Harmony said, good things are coming. You hope, anyway.
Joel’s intrigued by your answer, but before he can question you, your phone rings. "Speaking of,” you apologize to the man in front of you. “It’s my job. I have to take this."
He laughs and stops walking, letting you go ahead. “No worries, kiddo.”
“It was really good seeing you again, Joel,” you say softly. “I’m glad you’re back!”
You answer your phone as you walk away from him, leaving him behind to observe you. He listens to you speak and smiles to himself. You’re still that chaotic girl he remembers. And for some reason, that makes his stomach tingle.
When you arrive at the club, you head for the changing rooms upstairs so you can dress yourself up in your nefarious ensemble. Around you, other girls chit-chat about their performances tonight, asking you for your opinion, but you can’t pay attention because you can’t stop thinking about Joel. How strange you ran into him when you and Harmony were just gabbing about him. He looked good, so good you made a mental note to tell your friend. Of course, when she got your text, you could practically hear her squealing from the other end. She insisted on a picture of him. But really, when will you have the chance to meet again?
You sigh and put on the finishing touches of your makeup for the night. Your eyeliner is winged and thick; your lashes are long, flared out dramatically. And your lips are a soft, bright pink. And to pull the whole look together, rhinestones are strategically placed along your lash line and cheekbones. Yep. This is your life. This is what you do.
Behind your privacy curtain, you change into your costume, slipping into a tight corset top, tutu skirt, and heels. You’d be mortified if you didn’t look so alluring. Not your ideal profession, but the money is decent, and you get to show off your assets. All of your assets.
Your fingers mess with the pins in your hair, tugging them loose and letting the soft curls flow over your shoulders. The reflection in the mirror is of a girl you barely recognize, someone who’s lost her way in the world. There are many things you would change if you could, but dwelling on the past and what could have been only hurts you more. And, well, at least you have your talent.
You work at the only Burlesque Club in the city, and you're quite popular among the audience. But the start of each shift requires you to be a mixologist while a different group of girls gets the place warmed up for the night. They’re the ones who welcome patrons as they file in and get settled. Beautiful, talented, but newer and not as seasoned as you and some other performers. The opening acts, if you will.
Yes, lucky you. You are a headliner.
“Hey, sweetheart,” you hear from your left and fight the urge to curse out the motherfucker. If there’s anything you hate, it’s being called “sweetheart” by some drunk loser. But you put on your best smile and saunter over to where the man sits. He’s older, probably in his mid-fifties, and his eyes rake in every inch of your body even though you’re probably younger than his daughter. Oh, who are you to judge? You’re the one daydreaming about your best friend’s father. “I’ll take an Old Fashioned,” he says, holding out a crisp $100 bill.
“As you wish,” you smile, flicking your hair as you take the money from him. You can definitely pretend to be interested in him for a generous tip. You and your partner, Daphne, do it all the time. So you flirt a little as you mix his drink and know he appreciates it.
“Keep the change, gorgeous,” he winks, and even though his advances make you want to take a loofah and bleach to your skin, you keep up your smile and whisper thanks, brushing your fingers against him when you serve him his drink.
He slides you a napkin across the bar top with his name and number in messy scribbles before he nods at you and takes his glass. You watch with a scowl as the man heads to the main floor. The opening girls are on their last act, and no one wants to miss it. You wrinkle your nose and scrunch up the napkin in your fingers, tossing it into the trash. You’d rather have the tips, to be honest.
A quick scan of the room lets you know the club is pretty packed tonight. Good for business, good for tips, not so good for your anxiety. You look to the entrance, waiting to see if anyone else will show up before the doors close for the night. And they do, but the group of gentlemen who come strolling in happens to be the last people you want to see.
“Oh my god,” you whisper as Joel, Tommy, and their friend pay the entrance fee. You try to hide behind the bar, but it’s too late. Joel looks over and sees you just as you duck. “Fuck,” you grunt.
“Girl, what the hell?” Daphne questions as she nearly trips over you.
“Shh!” You hush her. “Don’t look at me. Pretend I’m not here.”
She gives you a bewildered look. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Daphne!” You scold up at her, which confuses her even more. “Just shut up!”
“Oh,” she hums, a smirk pulling at her lips. “Does this have to do with the very attractive gentleman heading our way?”
“Oh my god,” you groan and bury your face in your hands. No, this cannot be happening. Not now. Not tonight. Not like this!
“Now, that is some outfit,” you hear Joel say as he leans over the bar top, peering down at you. Your eyes flick up, smiling timidly as you meet his teasing gaze. You clear your throat as you stand, attempting to cover yourself up. Not that it matters. Joel’s already seen you in your snug fitted jewel-toned corset and skirt. You can’t even imagine what’s going through his mind right now, and honestly, you don’t want to. Suddenly, you feel aware of your attire. Sure, you look hot as fuck in your outfit with its satin and lace and frills, but this is Joel.
“How did you find me?” You ask him, flustered by his appearance at your club.
He points behind him and your eyes follow. “Tommy,” he says.
“Of course,” you sigh. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Why?” Joel asks, and if you’re not mistaken, his voice holds a hint of…protectiveness? “Tommy come here often?”
“Not that much, but every once in a while. He really likes to tease me,” you say, shaking your head. Those aren’t the right words. “Not tease, he’s just trying to get me back on track with the whole Broadway thing.”
At this, Joel’s stiff posture relaxes, and he takes a seat at the bar. “So why don’t you?” He questions. “Go back to Broadway?”
“This is my life, Joel,” you say quickly, not wanting to talk about this subject. “I tried and failed to be a star and frankly, this is less embarrassing than trying and failing again.”
He looks disappointed, and you hate being on the receiving end of that look. “You’re so talented, though,” he compliments, and you have to admit, your heart flutters at the words. “You can’t just give up.”
Across the room, the curtains close, and the lights dim. About a half-hour and it'll be your turn to shine on stage. You wish Joel would just fucking leave. But he seems determined to finish your conversation, or at least catch one of your performances. You don’t know which is worse.
“I gotta go,” you say, abruptly abandoning your spot behind the bar. Daphne follows, shooting the man a wink as she passes by. You and her need to freshen up before you hit the stage, and the last thing you need to think about is Joel. So you take a few calming breaths and head up to the dressing rooms, mentally hyping yourself up for the show.
Much to your surprise, Joel sticks around for a while. Every so often you can see him from your place on stage. You do your best to block him out to stay focused on your routine and try to not freak out over the fact that your friend's dad is watching you dance and sing from an oversized martini glass. It’s fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.
Your shift ends sometime around midnight. Exhausted, you exit the stage and make your way to your dressing room. It's time to switch out of your performance outfit for comfy clothes. Overall, it’s been a successful night. You watched Joel and Tommy leave about midway through your show with Daphne and after that, you were able to relax and get more into character. Now you’re ready to go home, wash your face, and make some hot tea to soothe your throat.
Daphne offers you a ride like she usually does. But you decline her offer like you usually do. You prefer being alone after a show, so you take the bus. It gives you time to think, review your performance, and see how you can improve your vocals. It’s not Broadway, that’s for sure. But you’re thankful you still get to use your voice. Performing is all you ever wanted.
The last bus runs through this area at 1AM, so you take your time leaving, saying goodbye to the rest of your colleagues, and counting out the tips you made tonight. The cool night air hits you as you leave through the back exit, and you pocket your cash, satisfied with your earnings tonight. The bus stop isn’t far if you take your path through the second parking lot, so you weave through the last couple of cars, stopping in your tracks when you spot a truck. It’s not so much the truck that startles you, but the person leaning against it.
“Joel?” You ask hesitantly.
“Hey, kiddo,” he smiles, walking towards you.
“You’re still here?” You question.
“Kind of,” he answers with a shrug. “Tommy was getting a little antsy after like the third song, so I took him home. I came back. Thought you might want a ride?”
“I was going to take the bus,” you say, chewing on your lower lip. You peek ahead to the bus stop. Do you want to give up your pattern? You do enjoy the silence… Fuck it. Joel Miller is offering you a ride. Only an idiot would say no. “But that would be nice, thank you.”
He’s a perfect gentleman, opening the passenger door for you. He smiles as you thank him and takes your hand to help you step up into the truck. “Do you have to go straight home?” He asks you. “Maybe I can interest you in a cup of coffee?”
“I fucking hate coffee,” you groan, earning a laugh from him. “I could use a drink, though,” you speak softly.
“A drink sounds great,” he replies, shutting your door. Your leg bounces a little as you wait for Joel to get in. Is this a good idea? Probably not. You should leave, just go wait for the bus. Nothing good will come of having booze with the older man this time at night. But he opens his door and slides in, tilting closer to you as he buckles his seatbelt, and you can smell his cologne. What’s one drink, right?
“Are you alright with going to my place?” He asks, inviting you back to his home. The look in his eyes is so sincere, gentle, and you feel like you’re going to burst into flirty giggles as your teenage self would.
“That would be great,” you say, calming the quiver in your voice. Joel peels out of the parking lot and heads for his apartment. The whole drive, you run different scenarios through your mind. You know nothing will happen between the two of you, but you can’t help but wonder…
Holy shit, you are in Joel’s apartment. You’re sitting on his couch while he’s in the kitchen pouring two glasses of wine. Bad idea, this is a very bad idea. What would Harmony say? Fuck, what would Sarah say? It’s just a drink, you tell yourself. Just a drink!
“Here you are, darlin’,” Joel voices as he comes back into view. He hands you a glass and takes the spot on the cushions next to you. He’s so close, and he smells so nice. You take a sip of your wine to give your mouth something to do instead of blurting out any embarrassing thoughts you have.
“This is a nice place,” you say, avoiding his gaze, teasing the stem of your wine glass in your fingers. He has a small apartment with two bedrooms from what you can tell. It’s not anything fancy, but it’s clean and decorated with Joel’s various woodworking projects. He has some photos on the walls of him and Sarah, or of Tommy, or all three of them. You catch a glimpse of Sarah’s school photo and feel your stomach turn. She would be so disappointed in you. “Can’t believe it’s been so long,” you nod to Sarah’s photo, ignoring the guilt.
Joel follows your gaze and sighs. “I know. I feel bad dragging her away from you guys like that, but… There were things going on behind the scenes and Sarah and I needed to escape somewhere else.”
“Oh,” you frown. You had no idea things were that bad for them. You don’t push the subject. It’s not your business. “Well, I’m glad you’re both okay. Everyone really missed her,” you say. “We even missed you.” You joke, nudging his shoulder with your hand. Your heart thumps, spreading the noise to your ears. Are you really saying this? Oh, you are. “This is gonna sound gauche, but so many of us had a crush on you.”
You cringe for saying that, immediately wishing you could swallow the words back up. But to your surprise, Joel doesn’t look uncomfortable. He just laughs. “I know,” he declares.
“Really?” And here you thought you hid it so well.
“You guys were so obvious,” he chuckles, bringing his glass to his lips. “Plus, Sarah told me.” He takes a long drink while you process. Your face twitching in horror at what Sarah could have said.
“That little snitch,” you joke as a whole new wave of feelings steams within you. “Well, now I’m a little ashamed,” you admit.
“Don't be,” he comforts, placing a hand on your knee. Your insides buzz at the contact. “I knew the effects of young fatherhood. And I always watched out for you kids, made sure you were safe. I tried to hide the distress well,” he sighs. “God, I hope none of you thought of me as a creep.”
“No!” You assure him quickly, too quickly. Is the wine already getting to you? Your whole body feels hot. “No one ever felt that way.”
“Good, good,” he states, looking a bit uneasy. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought up this topic.
“What’s wrong?” You ask him, feeling regretful.
He shifts where he sits and hesitates before opening his mouth. “Gotta admit, right now I feel like a creep.”
“What? Why?” Your stomach drops. You did it now.
“Because I have you here in my apartment,” he pauses, setting his glass down on the coffee table. He falls back into the couch, dragging his fingers down his face. “And I’m sitting here, looking at you, wondering what you taste like.”
“Really?” You ask with a shaky breath. For some reason, your nerves have melted, and a newfound confidence washes over you. Joel’s little secret really stroked your ego. It might be time to rethink your hesitations.
Joel nods and his lips curl into a frown. “I’m a terrible person,” he says.
No, you can’t accept that. Using your new sense of courage, you scoot over to him, boldly pushing him into the couch with ease. It has to be your hormones taking over as you lick your lips and crawl onto his lap. But he doesn’t stop you.
“You’re not,” you lean into him, whispering in his ear. You test the waters by brushing your lips over his beard, kissing his cheek.
“We shouldn’t do this,” he says, but that’s all the fight he puts up. He actually relaxes under your touch. You smirk a little as his hands find home on your hips.
“Maybe,” you shrug and shift against his chest to kiss his other cheek. “Or maybe it doesn’t matter. We’re both adults right?” In a daring move, you grind your hips down on him. He doesn’t make a sound, but his eyes darken, and his fingers grip you tighter. Perfect.
“But…” he starts, groaning low in his throat as you roll your hips into him again. You watch his throat as he swallows down his noises. He bites his lip and uses his tight hold on you to steer your hips against his again, slow and steady. He’s falling apart and doesn’t have much fight in him. He never had any to begin with.
You gasp as the bulge in his jeans presses against the wetness forming in your panties. A small touch from him and you’re already unraveling. But you can’t help it. This is the man you’ve been lusting over since you were a teenager. Should this be happening? Probably not. But it feels so good.
Your mouth hovers over his, and you can feel him strain underneath you. He angles his head so his lips brush against yours, but it’s like he’s holding back, afraid to give in. You look into his shimmering hazel eyes, challenging him to do it, to take it to the next level.
He’s breathing heavily and ready to snap. You can see in his eyes that he wants this. Is he really that hung up on your age? Or is it the fact that you’re still Sarah’s friend? You decide to push it further and see what else you can get away with. You smile and grind on him again, sliding your arms over his shoulders. This time, you let out a moan. Loud, breathy, high-pitched, and perfect.
“Fuck me, Mr. Miller,” you purr, sighing in pleasure as you wiggle your hips. Your head falls back and you murmur a quiet, “please.”
That’s all he needs to hear, apparently because once that phrase leaves your lips, Joel’s fingers are tangled in your hair, pulling you into him roughly. His lips mold with yours, kissing you hard and with hunger. You moan into his mouth, skimming your hands down the front of his chest until you reach his jeans. He’s so hard underneath you. You can’t help but roll your hips into him again, drawing a startled grunt from his throat.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, breaking the kiss. His voice is deep and raspy and it turns you on even more. You attach your lips to his neck, sinking your teeth into his skin and sucking. Your wet tongue flicks over the bite and he shivers, dropping his hands to your ass and rutting against you. A whimper leaves your throat from the contact and you sit up, licking your lips.
Joel takes in the sight of you, your eyelids heavy and hair brushed to one side, leaving your throat exposed. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you down, nipping at your throat and making you squirm. The little hairs of his beard rub against your delicate skin, and your desire for him grows. God, you want to devour every part of him.
Your fingers toy with his jeans and you glance up, meeting his stare. A teasing grin pulls at your lips as you guide your fingers to his belt. He watches with dark eyes and parted lips, huffing at your subtle touch.
His large hands roam your thighs, eager to rid you of your sweatpants. But you’re so focused on him right now that he lets you take the lead. And you’re so beautiful on top of him. He knew the moment he bumped into you on the street that he’d never be able to get you out of his head. He tried to fight it, of course. Do the right thing… But then he came to your club, saw you in that slutty little outfit, and all common sense went out the window. You grew up, and you are stunning.
“Mr. Miller,” you sigh when you finally get his belt undone. You’re biting your lip, batting those long lashes at him, and filthy thoughts pour into his brain.
“So polite,” he mumbles, bringing a hand up to your face. He softly strokes your cheek with his knuckles, stopping once he gets to your mouth. He uses his thumb to tug at your bottom lip, and your tongue pokes out, tasting him. “Baby girl, you’re so beautiful,” he compliments.
“Thank you, Mr. Miller,” you smirk, moving to the button and swiftly popping it open. He watches you undo his zipper and breathes in deep, awaiting your next moves. “Are you gonna fuck me?” You ask with a pout that shouldn’t be as cute as it is. “I really want you to fuck me.” You plunge your hand past the waistband of his briefs, hearing his breath hitch.
In response, he groans, throwing his head back onto the couch. Your delicate hand wraps around his painfully hard dick, jerking him slowly. He's so big and warm in your hand, you bite back a smile, still in shock that this is happening. But you are not complaining.
You squeeze Joel’s cock harder, applying more pressure, relishing in those delightful sounds he lets out. His tip is already leaking, flushed red, and ready to burst. You feel a little proud that you have this effect on him. You wonder who else has made him feel this way before.
His precum drips onto your fingers, and you use it to lather up his length, pumping him in your fist nice and quick. You can feel him pulse in your hand and you want so badly to take him into your mouth, to feel him, taste him. You want to suck him off until he cums down your throat, but you can tell that he’s eager to get this show on the road.
“Up,” he orders you and you listen, raising your hips so he can slide a hand into your pants. You whimper at the feeling of his rough fingers dipping into your panties. The amount of times you’ve imagined this is almost shameful. But now that he’s actually touching you like this, you feel like you’re about to faint.
“J-Joel,” you shiver and let out a cry when you feel him slip a finger into you. Out of instinct, you grind down on his hand, greedily taking what he has to offer. He chuckles, gliding his fingers over your slit. “More,” you breathe, gripping his shirt with your free hand.
“Stroke my cock baby,” he tells you since your movements have faltered. Hearing those words come from him turns you to mush. So you do as he says, picking up the pace of your hand once more. You feel him slide another finger past your folds, fucking into you fast and without mercy. “So wet for me,” he murmurs in your ear. “That’s fucking hot.”
You don’t want this moment to end. His fingers make you feel full and satisfied and he knows just how to work them. Your toes curl, and you can feel yourself about to cum already, but you don’t want to. Not yet. You need to feel him inside of you. Or you’ll lose your damn mind.
“Please fuck me,” you beg, feeling his body shake under your touch. Your lips find his again, capturing him in a bruising kiss as you rock against his hand. You gasp, and Joel takes the opportunity to flick his tongue into your mouth against your own, tasting you, memorizing your flavor. You taste so fucking sweet.
“Stand up, darlin’,” he breathes when you break the kiss. He brings his glistening fingers to his lips, sucking them clean, finally tasting you. That's an image you'll remember for the rest of your life. “I want you to ride me,” he says.
You groan, those words sending warmth to your core. Your lower tummy burns with desire, and you follow his orders, standing up on shaky legs. He helps you undress, pulling your shirt off while you shake off your pants and underwear. You work on your bra, watching Joel remove his shirt and pull his jeans down enough to let his cock spring free.
You feel like you should feel shy standing before him completely naked, but this is nothing after him seeing you earlier. Rather than feeling shy, you feel empowered and sexy. So when Joel grabs you by the hips, you let him, staring him down as you comfortably move on his lap.
He holds his dick as you guide yourself onto him, sighing breathily as you sink onto him and he stretches you out. Your eyes roll back, shifting your position to take all of him. He fills you perfectly, and you take a second to appreciate just how good he feels without even moving. “Oh, Joel,” you mumble.
“God damn,” he groans, bucking his hips up into you. The sensation shocks you back to life, and you grip his shoulders, hard and firm, leaving little crescent marks from your nails. You almost collapse as you bounce on top of him, his dick hitting that spot inside of you instantly. “That’s it, baby. Take it,” he moans out, your name on the tip of his tongue.
One of his hands slides up your back, and he glances down between you, watching you move your hips and take his cock deep inside your pussy. His other hand reaches up, grabbing your tits. You watch as his tongue swipes across his lips, and it spurs you on, picking up your speed.
“You’re s-so good,” you moan, tossing your head back, feeling every inch of his thick cock slide into you. “Fuck, Joel, fuck me.” You can’t believe this is happening. You can’t believe he’s so willing and eager to fuck you. You can’t believe it feels this amazing. Lies, yes you can. Joel’s a fucking god, fucking you so good you see stars behind your eyelids.
Your hands fall back, bracing yourself on his knees. You roll your hips slowly into his and he reciprocates, brushing that sweet little bundle of nerves inside of you, burying himself deep in your tight cunt. Your actions are sluggish, but hot as fuck, and he feels so fucking fine thrusting into you. The look of need in his eyes makes you melt. He’s enjoying this just as much as you are.
Joel appreciates the view of your tits bouncing as you ride his cock. It’s a scene he never imagined, but it’s one he wants to see again and again, and yeah, again. “You look good, baby girl,” he comments, grabbing your hips and slamming your tired body down onto him. “Look so good taking my cock. Feel good, too. This pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, yes,” you nod, agreeing with him. But you would say yes to whatever he asked you right now. You are fucking Joel Miller. Your brain is practically toast. “I’m close, Joel,” you warn him, clawing at his chest. His sweaty body is hot under your touch and the fact that you made him this way pushes you closer to cumming.
His hips snap up into you, making your body jerk and crumble against him. He grabs the back of your hair and tugs your head up, pressing sloppy kisses to your neck, cheek, and then your lips. Your tongues meet in a messy tangle, moaning into each other’s mouths, and that heat pooling in your stomach grows.
“Fuck, just like that,” he grunts as you clench around him. He falls back against the couch, wrapping an arm around your waist and holding you in place as he fucks up into you. “You wanna cum?” He purrs. “Wanna cum for me? Show me how good I make you feel.”
“P-please,” you whimper. “Make me feel so g-good,” you stutter out.
“Mr. Miller fucks you good, doesn’t he?” Joel taunts, brushing his thumb over your clit.
“Oh, god,” you groan. He’s so fucking sexy. Who gave him the right?
“Cum for me, princess,” he whispers in your ear and that’s enough. Joel barely has to touch you and you're cumming, hard, crying out his name in pathetic gasps as he fucks you through your climax. Your entire body is sensitive from your orgasm ripping through you, and every feeling is amplified.
You're shaking as Joel picks up his speed, pounding into you hard and fast. His breath is hot in your ear, and you can tell he’s close by the way his hips stutter. “You’re gonna make me cum, sweetheart. Can I cum inside you? Can I fill you up? I wanna see you leaking with my cum.”
“Oh, fuck, Joel, yes,” you breathe and weakly push yourself up. Your hands lazily stroke his chest, moving your hips in exhausted circles, but he’s close. He gives your ass one sharp slap before he cums, shooting his seed deep inside of you. His warm cum fills you, covering your walls, making you writhe in ecstasy.
Your heavy breathing mixes with his, filling the room with sounds of passion. You’re absolutely spent as you climb off of him, falling onto the couch beside him. You look down at yourself, smiling a little as his cum dribbles down your thighs. You feel good and as you take a glance at Joel, you can tell he feels the same.
“So,” you say quietly, tracing your finger over the bare skin of your stomach.
“So,” he adds, looking over at you. A lopsided grin finds his lips and he leans closer. “Never thought that would happen.”
“Same,” is all you manage to squeak out. Warmth blossoms on your face and you mentally curse at yourself. Now you’re gonna blush? Get over it.
“I’m thinking you should probably spend the night,” he says to your delight and surprise. “We have more catching up to do.”
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Use My Best Colors For Your Portrait || jjk
➥Pairing: best friend!jungkook/reader, boyfriend!jungkook/reader, artist!jungkook
➥Summary: After surprising Jungkook with his own studio room for his paintings, he couldn’t be any more over the moon. All’s well and good until he’s struggling to find inspiration...which you happily provide him with. He’s ecstatic to find his muse in you, and painting your portrait brings him so much joy. Things take a turn however, when he suddenly realizes what else he wants to paint.
➥Genre: established relationship, tiny bit of angst if you squint, fluff, smut
➥Rating: 18+
➥Words: ~7.9k (small drabbles don’t exist for me apparently, oops)
➥Content warnings: most of this at the beginning is just cute fluff domestic times (finally not much angst!), blonde jungkook, jk ties his hair up at some point (my weakness), jk puts paints on the reader, making out, slight hair pulling, cursing, shower sex times, jungkook has a big dick, oral (m. receiving), very slight mouth fucking, dirty talk, fingering (very brief), unprotected sex (safe sex is great sex), biting, cumming inside, cute times in the shower, jungkook is actually the sweetest, reader and jk are so in love with each other it hurts, also jk saying ‘only for you’ is a thing i started and can’t stop now oops
A/N: hello! This is part of my Only for You (OFY) Drabble series, but it can be read as a stand-alone! Their relationship will make a lot more sense though if you’ve read OFY beforehand. This fic takes place roughly around six months after the events of OFY (so in between that and the dream drabble I also posted).
Once again, thank you to @dntaewithluv for her endless support and always giving me feedback, I forever appreciate you and your friendship is more than I could ever ask for 💜
I’ve written a few other drabbles and will list them below, along with a general timeline:
When I Dream of You - ~1 year after OFY
Stay With Me - a few months after the dream drabble
Also, I hope that if you read this, you enjoy it~
➥OFY Spotify Playlist (songs I listened to for inspo)
➥Series Masterlist
➥All Works Masterlist
taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn
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You would do absolutely anything in the world for Jeon Jungkook.
Seeing him happy had to be at the top of your list of favorite things in the world, as it had been for many years as his best friend, and now in the several months since the two of you started dating. Some things just never changed, you guessed.
Which is why you took it upon yourself to change one of the spare rooms in the house you two were renting into a space where he could thrive as the artist he was. Initially, the two of you thought it would be nice to use that space as a work area for you, since your job required you to sometimes do work from home. And for a little while, that’s exactly what you did.
But ever since you found out Jungkook liked to paint – scratch that, he loved to paint, and had been doing so for longer than you thought – the gears started turning in your head.
The current space he was using to create his art was definitely less than ideal. The house had a decent sized garage area, so there was enough room for him to store his supplies and be able to paint without it being too much of an issue. The downside, though, was it was cramped and even though Jungkook said he didn’t mind it, you still couldn’t help the frown from masking your features whenever you saw him huddled up so close to his easel.
For the last few weeks, and with lots of help from internet searches, you’d been slowly converting your space into something like a studio. You didn’t have to worry about Jungkook finding out, either, since he very rarely went into that room seeing as he had no reason to. He respected your privacy the same as you respected his, so this made everything infinitely easier for you in the long run.
The day had finally arrived where you would show the new space to Jungkook. Everything was set up as perfect as you could manage it – at least you hoped so – and you were dying of excitement to show him as soon as possible.
You were also, however, incredibly nervous at the same time. What if he didn’t like it? Even worse, what if he hated it?
Of course, you knew deep down that there was no way Jungkook could hate anything you ever did, unless it was something horrible, but you worried about everything because that’s just how you were. So, when the two of you were sitting at the dinner table one night, you tried hard to swallow the lump in your throat as you listened to Jungkook talk about his newest work.
“I really think you’re gonna like how this one turns out, angel.” Jungkook was offering you a sweet smile as he went to grab another bite of food from his plate. You managed to smile back, despite the hammering of your heart against your chest. He was basically handing you the perfect opening for you to segue the conversation!
“I know I’ll love it, Koo.” You watched as his small smile turned into a full grin, his nose scrunching up in that adorable way that had you falling in love with him all over again every time you saw it.
“Speaking of your paintings,” you started off, clearing your throat while he swallowed down his food. He looked at you with his undivided attention and it made your heart skip a beat.
Ok let’s be real, every damn thing this man did made your heart skip a beat.
“Yeah? What about them?” He twirled more of the noodles around his fork while he waited on your answer.
You gulped. “Wouldn’t you like it if you had more space?”
Jungkook chuckled and placed his fork down, shaking his head as he placed on hand on top of yours that was still resting by your plate. You’d barely touched your food and he noticed.
“Baby,” he started, “as much as I would love to have a bigger space, what I have now is just fine. I know you think it’s stifling my creativity in there, but I’m still creating things and am comfortable.” He squeezed you hand gently before returning to his food.
“I get that you think the garage is fine but what if I told you that- that you could have a bigger workspace.” You finally picked up your fork and were poking around at your own food now, avoiding his gaze. You could feel his stare boring into you regardless, though.
“I mean – yeah, hypothetically I could have more space, but it’s not in the cards for us right now and that’s ok, too. Maybe one day.”
The way he always was optimistic about your future together made you feel warm all over. Jungkook liked to look on the bright side of every situation, and it’s been enough to help you keep your own wits about yourself numerous times now.
But this time you wanted to show him that the future could be closer than he realized.
“Koo, can you come with me real quick? I have something I want to show you.”
You didn’t miss the confused look that flashed across his face for a second before his calm demeanor took over again.
“Of course.” He hopped up from the table, that smile you adored now plastered on his face. “Lead the way.”
“Ok but I also need you to close your eyes.” You reached out to take his hand and were rewarded with an eyebrow raise.
He hummed thoughtfully but did as you asked, closing his eyes and grasping your hand tighter so you could lead him wherever you planned to.
You walked through the house pulling him behind you, feeling your heartbeat quicken with every step to where its pace was almost concerning. Whether or not it was mostly from excitement or nervousness, you weren’t sure.
You finally reached your destination and let go of his hand so you could open the door.
“Keep your eyes closed, ok,” you asked. Jungkook simply nodded and you saw a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He had no idea what you were about to show him, but knowing you and how much he loved pretty much anything you did, he was sure it’d probably make him happy.
And he couldn’t have been more correct in his assumption.
At the quiet sound of you telling him he could open his eyes he did so, slowly at first, blinking to adjust to the light the now flooded over the both of you. It took him several seconds to register exactly what he was seeing, and when he did he couldn’t speak. All he could do was stare around the room, mouth agape.
Decorating the walls were the paintings he had given you, beautiful works of various sizes and themes. Alongside the far wall was a tall shelf that housed all his supplies (how had you managed to get them past him without him noticing?), and even some new things like paints he’d been eyeing for a while and other tools he hadn’t had a chance to get himself yet.
But in the middle of the room stood his easel and chair, set up in the similar fashion as it had been in the garage. His apron was draped across the back of the chair, and there was even tarp laid out underneath the workspace. You research had paid off because everything was set up in such a way that it created the perfect atmosphere for Jungkook’s creativity to shine through in ways it hadn’t been able to before.
You weren’t aware of this yet, however, because you were still watching Jungkook’s reaction. He still hadn’t said anything, and as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, you started to wonder if this was the right call-
Strong arms were pulling you up from the ground and spinning you around before you could process it, making you squeal with delight as Jungkook twirled you before bringing you back down to pepper kisses all over you face.
“Angel, I can’t believe this, you did all this for me?” He was still holding onto your hips tightly, beaming as he looked down at you. Your nod and giggle was all the confirmation he needed before he pulled you into another kiss, this one slightly more heated than the ones before.
“Do you like it,” you questioned when the both of you pulled away to breathe. Jungkook laughed before taking your face in his hands and brushing his nose along yours.
“Do I like it? Baby, I love it. It’s perfect! Thank you so much.” Another kiss. “I love it and I love you, I love you so fucking much.”
His happiness made your heart soar and you definitely knew that you’d do something like this an infinite amount of times if it meant he’d keep that smile on his face.
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A few weeks passed by and Jungkook had been using his new studio nearly everyday at this point. His creations had been increasing in numbers and he was starting to receive commissions from others thanks to his small online shop he’d set up with your help. He still worked at the bar as his primary job, but he was also grateful to have a hobby on the side that could potentially yield something lucrative.
Of course, Jungkook’s increase in his time spent on his art still didn’t take away from his time with you. If anything, it gave the both of you another way to spend time together, since now there was enough space for you to sit in and observe him paint when you couldn’t before. You often sat quietly and either did some of your own work or engaged in your own hobbies while he painted, and it was always peaceful.
There came a day, though, that you never thought you’d experience: Jungkook had run out of inspiration. He’d hit his first real artist’s block and it was taking a bigger toll on him than he would’ve liked.
You rubbed his shoulders as he sat in front of his easel one night, groaning in frustration about his current work. “It’s not turning out at all like I want it to. I’ve been struggling with finding new inspiration and it clearly shows in whatever this is.” He vaguely gestured to the canvas, prompting you to place a kiss on his cheek as you ran your hand through his pretty blonde hair. You knew that always helped to calm him down and this case was no exception.
Jungkook sighed heavily, turning to place a kiss on your palm that was still lingering around his face. “Sorry, I don’t mean to get worked up. It just sucks, you know? I’d been on this really good streak of creating things and now I just…can’t. It’s weird and I don’t like it.” He pouted slightly and the sight made you giggle.
“I know, baby, but you’ll figure something out. You always do.” You placed a kiss on top of his head before you walked around to sit on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and one of his hands cradled your waist to steady you.
He was humming thoughtfully as he looked you up and down, your hands now playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“What are you thinking about?”
He smiled slyly. “You.”
You rolled you eyes before returning the smile. “Ok, what about me? I’m curious.”
His hand was rubbing up and down your side. “Nothing in particular, just usually looking at you can help me with inspiration.”
His confession made you gasp. “Really?”
He nodded and smiled wider. “Really. You inspire me a lot.” He placed a chaste kiss on your lips before sighing again. “This time though it’s not really working like I’d hoped.”
You watched his eyes close and his brows furrow before an idea popped into your head. “Hey,” you reached down to tilt his chin up so he’d look at you, “It might be a long shot, but: have you ever considered painting portraits?”
He pursed his lips as he thought about it. The simple act made you want to kiss him but now wasn’t the time.
“Honestly…no. I’ve never thought about it before because I usually prefer to paint scenery.”
You searched his eyes as you asked your next question. “Well, if you want to try, maybe you could paint me? Even if it doesn’t go anywhere, maybe it can help spark a new idea or something?”
You watched as his eyes slowly lit up at your suggestion, his face morphing into a smile that you mirrored.
“That’s a great idea! It’s something new and it also includes you, so I already love it.” You chuckled in his lap as he hugged you closer, placing a small kiss on your neck. “Thank you.”
You ran your hands through his hair again before leaning back. “Anything for you. Do you want to start now?”
He thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, we can do that. Is there, uh – was there something specific you wanted to wear for it?”
You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. “Are you suggesting you want to paint a nude portrait?”
Even though Jungkook knew your body better than you did at this point, your words still managed to make him blush as he groaned. “No, I wasn’t thinking that- not that I’d mind of course just you know, whatever makes you comfortable-”
You laughed at his flustered nature before hopping off his lap. “You’re so cute. I’ll go find something to change into, it shouldn’t take long.”
“R-right,” he stuttered, still clearly somewhat affected by what you had said. You shook your head with amusement as you went to your bedroom to find something to wear. You settled for a purple dress that you knew Jungkook loved, and considering a lot of his paintings involved shades of purple and blue, you figured it would be perfect.
You knew you made the right choice when you stepped back into the room and saw Jungkook’s face when his eyes fell on you. He looked like he’d never seen someone so beautiful (he looked at you like that a lot and it always did something to you) and your lips curled upwards into a smile before you could realize it.
You stopped in the doorway and twirled, giving him a full view of the dress. “Is this ok?”
You already knew the answer, but it was always nice to hear him say it.
He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it’s perfect. You can, uh, you can take a seat whenever you’re ready.”
While you were changing, Jungkook had pulled one of the loveseats from the living room into the space so you’d have somewhere to sit or lay while he painted you. The loveseat was a dark blue color and it contrasted beautifully against the color of your dress. You decided to lay on it in a comfortable pose, and you couldn’t help the small giggle you let out at Jungkook’s reaction to your choice.
You had laid an arm behind your head, turning your face so you were looking at him while the rest of your body was sprawled out on the loveseat. One of your legs dangled over the side, making the skirt of your dress hike up somewhat. You were very comfortable, and Jungkook was very happy with your pose.
“Make it pretty, ok,” you joked with him. He smirked at your comment.
“You know I will. I’ll use my best colors, just for you.”
“Wow, I feel special,” you quipped back. You were rewarded with the sound of his beautiful laughter as it echoed off the walls.
“You’re the most special,” he admitted honestly. You gave him a brilliant smile and he felt his heart stutter.
With the way you were looking at him, Jungkook thought that if he didn’t start painting, he may never start. So, he forced himself to tear his eyes away from you so he could find the paints he needed to get started. He tied up his hair, a few of the blonde strands escaped and framed his face but he didn’t seem to mind it too much as he got to work.
Thankfully, since you’d chosen a good position, the process was easier than you thought it would be. You just had to lie there and watch him work, which you happily did. You enjoyed watching his face scrunch up in concentration before relaxing again as he brushed stroke after stroke onto the canvas.
You were so beyond proud of him that it made your heart swell inside your chest.
Jungkook had been painting for a little over half an hour before he announced it was time to take a break. He could paint for hours on end without stopping, but that was when he didn’t have a live subject he was working with. He walked over to you with a bottle of water so you could sip from it without having to disturb your position too much.
You sat up slightly so you could drink, and while you did so, one of your dress straps started falling down your arm. Jungkook immediately went to move it back into place, but as he did, he couldn’t help but stare at the dark contrast of the purple satin against your skin. He thought it was so pretty, and his mind started wandering to how the paint itself might look-
He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. He may have been covered in paint himself, but that didn’t mean he needed to go putting paint on you.
When you were re-situated on the loveseat once more, Jungkook strolled back over to this easel. Unfortunately, since that thought of you covered in paint first took up residence inside his head, he now found it hard to focus on anything else. While he stared at you to try and resume your portrait, he just kept picturing you with painted streaks covering your skin instead.
You must have noticed he was distracted because soon you were calling over to him. “Kook? Is something wrong?”
He gulped and shook his head. “No, nothing’s wrong! You’re doing great, baby.”
“Do you need me some other way?”
Such a simple statement and yet it was stirring something inside of him. Asking him if he needed you a certain way ignited that desire to once again paint you and he found himself unable to hold back from asking anymore.
“Yeah, I uh, I wanted to try something.” You were confused when he got up and started walking toward you, only carrying his paint supplies. At first you thought maybe he just wanted to get closer, but he didn’t bring the easel with him.
“What are you wanting to try,” your voice was laced with curiosity. He gave you a shy smile.
“I was just thinking about how pretty it would be,” he looked down at the floor then back up at your face before he continued, “if I used you as a canvas instead.”
You felt your breath hitch in your throat at the request. Jungkook was asking to paint you, not paint you on a portrait, but to paint you. The suggestion intrigued you a lot more than you thought it would, which is ultimately what led to you nodding your agreement. “I think I’d like to try that, too.”
Jungkook’s face broke into such a dazzling smile that excited you to no end. You watched as he pulled his chair close to you, as well as some tarp to place around the area. When he was situated where he wanted to be, he dipped his brush into some of the purple paint on his palette and gently lifted your arm. The feeling of the paint as it brushed along your arm was foreign but not unwelcome. There was something about it that was almost calming.
You were now also recalling all the times you’d told Jungkook how pretty he looked even covered in paint. The pretty colors contrasting with his beautiful, golden skin tone never failed to take your breath away no matter how many times you saw it. You wondered briefly if this is what he was experiencing now as he took his time painting your skin.
He was focusing on your with such intensity and taking great care to only get the paint where he wanted it, so as to not stain certain parts of you or your dress. The sight of his caution made that familiar warmth bloom in your chest again.
He took his time painting beautiful designs along your arm before moving down to paint on your thighs and legs. He was alternating between purple and blue hues now, and the swirling patterns reminded you a lot of his tattoos that you adored. You had spent many nights lying next to him in bed, tracing the lines of his tattoos until you were too sleepy to keep it up. Seeing the patterns against your own skin briefly made you think about if you would ever want to get a tattoo. Before you put too much thought into it, your attention was pulled back to Jungkook who was sitting up now and admiring his work.
The time had passed by much quicker than you anticipated, and it was starting to get dark outside as the light was no longer filtering in through the windows of the room.
He seemed satisfied as he nodded and smiled. “Wait here, I’ll be right back. Stay just like this,” he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before leaving the room. When he returned, he had his coveted polaroid camera in his hands. Jungkook was also big into photography, and every one of his hobbies suited him perfectly in some way.
“Is it ok if I take a photo of you, baby?”
You grinned and nodded, being careful not to move too much from your current position. He snapped the photo and the polaroid was printing immediately after. When he pulled it from the camera, he laid it down on the table next to his easel so it could develop properly.
Jungkook wiped his hands off on his apron before taking it off and drawing his attention back to you. He could stare at you like this all day, but he knew it would probably be best to get you both cleaned up and paint-free.
He offered a hand for you so he could help pull you off the loveseat. When you were up fully, he wrapped his arms around you, careful to not get any of his exposed, paint-covered skin on your dress.
“You look so beautiful like this,” he murmured softly, brushing some of your hair out of your face as his eyes scanned up and down your body to admire his creation. “And as much as I love seeing it, we should probably get this paint off soon. When it dries too much, it can be a bitch to scrub off, and I don’t want that for you.”
You chuckled at that and simply nodded your head. You’d been lying there for nearly 2 hours at this point, so you were pretty tired and ready to just relax for the night.
The two of you hopped into the shower shortly after, helping each other rid your bodies of the remnants of paint covering you both. You always loved taking showers with Jungkook, because whether or not it was a short, regular shower, or one shared after a night of intimacy, these moments were some that you cherished the most and wouldn’t change for the world.
You got lost in the feeling of Jungkook scrubbing shampoo into your hair, letting out soft noises as your eyes slipped closed.
Your noises always threatened to drive Jungkook crazy, and this time was no exception. He couldn’t deny the stirring of his cock as he listened to the little moans slipping from your mouth at such a simple action.
Of course, since he was so close to you, there was no way you didn’t feel him. His cock was hardening against your thigh, and the fact that you were turning him on by not doing much turned you on.
You could feel the wetness start to slip past your folds, but you decided to not make any moves yet, wondering how far you could take this before either of you snapped. You knew that teasing him was one of the quickest ways to get Jungkook riled up.
“Feels so good, Koo,” you shamelessly moaned out as he kept massaging the shampoo into your hair. You heard him let out a small grunt at your deliberate words, feeling him twitch against your thigh as he got harder.
You leaned your head back to give him a better view of your neck, since you knew he loved to mark you up there. His hands were starting to tangle in your hair, but he took care to not pull too hard as he brought his attention back to the task(s) at hand.
He was currently focusing on two things: 1) getting the rest of the shampoo out of your hair, and 2) not fucking you up against the shower wall. Doing the first thing was currently keeping him from acting on the second, but you certainly weren’t helping with that.
Your head lolled around on your neck, your eyes still closed as your sounds got louder. He knew you were messing with him now, so as retaliation he pulled on your hair a little tighter, making you gasp.
“You’re doing this on purpose, angel,” you could hear the dark tone of his voice over the waterfall in the shower clearly, and it just made you more aroused. You chanced opening your eyes to look at him, and the sight you were met with made you moan louder, this time without trying.
Jungkook was staring at you, mouth slightly parted as he let out pants of his own, his blonde, soaked tresses falling in his face and covering his eyes. His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he tugged on your hair again, making you reach out to place your hands on his chest.
“You’re teasing me to get me worked up, hm?” All you could do was nod, his husky voice and the feeling of his hand wrapped in your hair making you wetter by the second. There was no use in playing coy any longer. You wanted him, and he wanted you.
The question now was: who would make the first move?
You realized that you wanted to be the one to make the first move, so you did.
“So, what if I am,” you asked sweetly, wrapping your hand around his length and pumping him slowly. His eyes closed and he leaned his forehead against your shoulder, fingers now digging into your waist.
“You know what happens when you do that,” Jungkook warned. You absolutely knew what happened, and you definitely wanted it to happen.
“Hmm, I don’t know, maybe you should enlighten me.” You teased him as you gently nibbled on his earlobe, increasing your pace as you continued to stroke him. You heard him let out a soft moan against your shoulder as he placed a kiss there.
With no more hesitation, you turned him slightly and sank down to your knees in front of him, delighted by how his cock jerked in your hold when you steadied it with your hand.
Jungkook stared at you wide-eyed as you started moving your hand around his shaft before placing a gentle kiss on his tip, the prettiest groan falling from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N, are you sure you want to do this?”
You peeked up at him as you fluttered your eyelashes, knowing that seeing you like this always aroused him beyond belief. You continued moving your hand in slow, languid strokes, and he was almost fully hard now.
He let his head hit the wall behind him, soft curses and praises for you tumbling from his mouth.
Seeing him like this had to be near the top of the list of your favorite sights to ever witness. And right then is when you figured it’d be the perfect time to surprise him. Without a warning you opened your mouth and took all of him in that you could reach.
Jungkook’s reaction was immediate.
“Hey wait what are y- oh my God, fuck.” His loud moan echoed off the walls of the room, causing a fresh wave of arousal to pool between your thighs. You sucked harder as you hollowed out your cheeks, ignoring the way your throat constricted around him.
“Y/N, shit, you feel so good, your mouth- fuck, angel, I don’t want to hurt you,” Jungkook was panting hard above you, eyes shut and brows furrowed, jaw slack as he unabashedly continued to moan at your actions. He was reaching behind him to try and hold something, but the smooth wall had nothing to offer him. His fingers were slipping against the tile, so he gave up and instead settled for clenching and unclenching his fists.
You pulled off him with a pop, a string of saliva left in your wake. You smiled up at him as you kept stroking him, not wanting his pleasure to disappear in the slightest.
“You won’t hurt me, Koo,” you reassured him, earning another groan from the man falling apart under your touch. He twitched in your hold, and you stuck your tongue out again to run it along the underside of his length.
Jungkook chanced looking down at you, only to look up at the ceiling a moment later while he muttered a strained “holy shit.”
“C’mon baby, don’t you want to look at me,” you taunted him as your tongue played with the head of his cock, swirling around him. The low groans coming from above you let you know that he enjoyed that a lot.
“Fuck, angel, I-” Jungkook’s sentence died as a moan ripped itself from his throat when you surged back down to take all of him in again. This time you continued moving, feeling the tears in the corners of your eyes but not stopping.
It wasn’t like you’d never sucked him off like this before, seeing as it was one of your favorite activities, after all. But it was a rare occasion where Jungkook would let you take all of him in one go for fear of hurting you. So, you took these chances whenever they presented themselves, and the reward was always, always worth it.
Tears along with the water droplets from the shower were coating your face but you didn’t care. All of your focus was on Jungkook and how he was trying so hard to restrain himself above you. You watched his fists clench and unclench and you could feel himself struggle to keep his hips from moving forward so he didn’t fuck your mouth.
Yeah, you weren’t having that. You wanted him to let go, wanted him to know that it was ok, that you wanted this. You reached out to grab one of his hands and placed it in your hair, relishing in the way his fingers immediately tangled themselves into the wet strands. You pulled your mouth off of him again, but not before letting your tongue drag slowly across every inch of him.
You looked up at him again as you pumped him leisurely, waiting until he brought his gaze down to stare at you, only for him to quickly close his eyes again.
“God, I can’t look at you, like I want to, fuck do I want to, but you look so fucking good like this, I’m not gonna last-”
You always found his stammering to be cute and you didn’t want to torture him too much longer. Deciding that you’d teased him enough, you took all of him into your mouth again, intertwining your fingers with his unoccupied hand and giving it a squeeze. The intimacy of this particular action was always enough to get both of you going, and it had Jungkook’s hips stuttering as you sucked hard.
“Fuck, baby, always take me so good like this. Always so good for me, I love you, fuck,” he was groaning as his head hit the wall behind him again, his hold in your hair tightening the same moment you felt him buck his hips like you’d been wanting all this time.
Unfortunately, for you, whenever Jungkook would fuck your mouth, no matter how much you wanted to sit there and take it without issue, his size always proved to be too big for you to handle and it had you coughing around his length in no time. Which, of course, always made Jungkook stop what he was doing before either of you had the chance to enjoy it much.
“Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry, are you ok?” Jungkook pulled you up while you kept coughing, brushing the wet strands of hair out of your face and looking at you with worry. You nodded and tried to reassure him, wanting to get back on your knees for him, but he held you in place.
“You don’t want me to continue,” you asked, your voice a little more hoarse than usual thanks to what your throat had just endured.
Jungkook shook his head. “No, angel, it’s not that. If you do keep going, I’ll cum in no time.” He brushed some of the water away from under your eyes, not knowing if it was tears or from the shower. He bent down to place a rough kiss on your lips, such a contrast from how his hands caressed your face.
“I want to be inside of you when that happens,” he murmured against you, gently biting down on your bottom lip and pulling a whine from you, in turn causing more wetness to gush between your legs. “If you’ll let me, of course.”
You almost laughed. “Koo, you know I’ll let you do anything at this point.”
He chuckled. “That’s a dangerous admission, baby. You sure about that?”
You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Of course I’m sure. I’d let you do anything you want because I trust you. Because I love you,” it was your turn to kiss him this time, and it was filled with so much passion it nearly made him dizzy. Jungkook could never get tired of the feeling of your lips against his, of hearing you say that you loved him, of feeling your skin pressed against each other during times like these.
Jungkook was hooked on you and he never wanted to go back to a time where he wasn’t.
You pulled him out of his thoughts as you tugged on some of his hair, earning a delicious sounding grunt from him. You whispered your next snarky comment right by his ear.
“You gonna fuck me now, baby?”
Your bluntness had his cock quickly stirring back to life after it had softened some during your coughing incident. He growled low and dark as he started placing love bites on your collarbone.
“Sure you don’t want me to return the favor first, angel?” He was marking up your skin while he asked this, so you almost didn’t realize what he was asking specifically but then it dawned on you.
“As much I love seeing you with your head between my legs,” you responded, tugging on his hair again, “I’d rather have you fuck me up against this wall.”
He moaned against your collarbone, the action vibrating your skin. He pulled off of you and brought your lips to his in a filthy kiss. “Your wish is my command.”
Jungkook lifted you up then by placing his hands under your ass and you got the message, wrapping your legs around him as he held you up. He turned so your back was against the wall, the only things now holding you up being his strong arms and the smooth tile behind you.
He first plunged two fingers inside you without a warning, making you let out a silent scream. He smirked at the way you clenched around his fingers, scissoring them before pulling them out again. You whined at the loss and he shushed you with a gentle kiss on your nose.
“Had to make sure you’re ready, baby.” He had one arm wrapped around your waist, trapped in between your back and the shower wall. With his now free hand, he lined himself up with your entrance, moaning when the tip of his cock was sucked in by your velvety walls.
“Fuck, you already feel so good and I’m barely in yet,” he clenched his jaw as he sank further into you inch by inch. When he finally bottomed out and was filling you up in the best way possible, you clenched around him to tease him further, making him curse.
“Watch it, angel,” he growled. “You’re gonna make it very hard for me to not blow it if you keep doing that, and I want you there with me when I do.”
“Then I guess you’d better start moving,” you teased, wrapping your arms more tightly around his neck. You knew what was coming next; Jungkook would put you exactly in your place, just like you wanted. And for that you needed to hold on tight for dear life because that man could rock you like nothing ever had before.
Jungkook grabbed your hips firmly in his hold as he fucked up into you, making sure you were held against the wall and weren’t in danger of falling down as he did so. Despite this, each thrust had you sliding more up the wall until he would bring you back down again. When he found a pace that was he was sure he could resume without either of you getting hurt, he finally let go.
To say you saw stars would be an understatement. Jungkook was fucking you with so much vigor that you weren’t just seeing stars, you were sure you were seeing entire galaxies. Your sounds kept dying out on your tongue because the feeling was so overwhelming and it had your trembling around him in no time.
“Can’t make any sounds when I’m fucking you this good, angel?” Jungkook was taunting you now and quite frankly, he was right, he was fucking you so good that you were finding it hard to say anything. And the mixture of his dirty words with the sweet pet name you adored had you clenching even tighter around him, causing him to groan loudly and grip your waist tighter.
You eventually found your voice again when Jungkook hit a certain spot inside of you, pulling an embarrassingly loud whine from your throat. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, tears almost brimming in your eyes once again at how good he felt.
“Fuck, Jungkook, feels so good, oh my God-” your praises made him twitch inside you as he moved his hands now from your waist to hold you up by cupping your ass, squeezing tightly in time with his thrusts. He was bouncing you up and down on his cock now with his strength alone, and the thought of it made your orgasm start to approach at an alarmingly fast rate.
“I love feeling you so close like this, I love you, so fucking much, shit-” Jungkook cut himself off as threw his head back to get his hair out of his face, careful not to let his balance falter or his grip slip on you. He had to do it though because his hair was keeping him from seeing your face now that you were leaning your head back against the wall, and he couldn’t have that.
“I love you, Jungkook, I’m close, fuck,” you were breathing hard as you couldn’t control your moans any longer, eyes squeezed shut and tears falling from just how much pleasure you were receiving and also how much you loved this man. Jungkook was the man you’d loved for so many years before you were finally able to call him yours. He always took care of you in every aspect of life, and you reciprocated it as best you could. And it was because of this kind of love you two had for each other that made these intimate times all the more meaningful. You were sitting here, back up against a shower wall in the arms of the man you loved while he rearranged your guts, and it was such an emotional experience alongside being a pleasurable one that the tears actually made sense.
Jungkook bit down on your shoulder and pulled you out of your reverie, making you cry out as he muffled his own sounds against your skin. You could tell by his thrusts that he was getting close now, his grunts happening more frequently and louder, echoing off the tiled shower walls. The water had already started to get cold but neither of you cared. Nothing outside of the two of you existed in this moment, and that was exactly how you liked it.
“Touch yourself for me, baby, I’m close, want you to be there with me,” Jungkook breathed out, his grip on your ass harsher now and you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow. You loved it when he marked you up, and even though he always felt slightly bad about it, you knew Jungkook loved seeing the marks, too.
You obeyed his command and reached down to rub your clit, nearly shrieking at the new wave of pleasure that washed over you. The sensations on your clit, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you, the way he was holding you, and all the things he was saying to you was enough to finally push you over the edge.
“Jungkook, I’m cumming, fuck-” you barely had time to utter out your warning before you were cumming hard around his length, your body spasming as he held you through it.
He sped up then, chasing his own high now, the feeling of your walls clenching around him making his eyes roll back. “Fuck, I can feel you, always so perfect for me, I’m close-”
His eyes were closed now so he didn’t see you reach for him. You pulled him closer so you could kiss him, hoping to help him along this way, swallowing down every beautiful sound he was making. “C’mon Koo, cum for me, wanna feel you fill me up.”
“Fuuuuck,” he moaned out, loud and long as that was the last thing he needed to get him there. His hips stuttered a few more times before you felt him twitch and fill you up, just like you wanted. Because gravity was working against you due to your current position, you could feel some of it dripping out of you despite Jungkook still being inside of you. The feeling made you scrunch up your nose, and the action made Jungkook laugh and mumble out ‘cute’ as he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose.
He pulled out of you carefully before moving you away from the wall so he could set you down on your feet. Your legs were a little wobbly, so he let you brace yourself against him as he helped you clean up.
The water was nearing a very uncomfortable cold temperature, but the both of you would rather endure that than leave the shower without cleaning off completely. After the workout you both had, there was nothing more you wanted than to curl up with each other in the bed.
After helping each other get clean again, and stealing quite a few kisses while doing so, Jungkook helped you out of the shower since you still didn’t trust your legs and dried you off before taking care of himself. Your heart swelled at the sight of him as it always did when he would take care of you like this.
You just hoped that you were taking care of him in all the ways he needed as well. You were certainly trying your best and would continue to do so for the rest of your life.
Once you were both snuggled into bed, him with an arm under you and you with your face nuzzling against his chest, you broke the silence first.
“If that’s what happens when I let you put paint on me, we should do that more often.”
Jungkook, who was tracing invisible patterns on your back in between your shoulder blades, laughed so hard you shook along with him. When he finally calmed down, he was able to answer you. “I totally agree. Although, I don’t think that happened because I painted you. It happened because you-” he booped you on the nose “-teased me, knowing full well what happens when you do.”
You shrugged as best you could with his arms around you. “You love it, though.”
Jungkook chuckled. “Indeed I do.” He placed a kiss on the top of your head and resumed his earlier soothing tracing of patterns on your skin. You rested your cheek against his chest and could hear his heartbeat, slow and steady. The combined actions of his hands and the steady thrum of his heartbeat was enough to have slumber calling your name in a matter of minutes.
Jungkook had something more to say, however.
“Hey,” he called gently, making you look up at him with groggy eyes. He smiled at the sight. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For helping me. For being my muse. I’ve got more ideas now about what else to create, and I don’t think I could’ve gotten there without your help.”
You smiled at him before you placed your head down again and shut your eyes once more, breathing deeply. “You would’ve eventually. That’s just how you are. Maybe I sped up the process, but you would’ve done fine.”
“Perhaps,” he sighed and looked at the ceiling. His glance travelled down to look at your nearly sleeping form, laying on him calm and unbothered. Moments like these topped his list of favorite things, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.
“Goodnight, angel,” he murmured softly, not sure if you were asleep or not yet. You muttered something unintelligible back, but he knew you were telling him goodnight all the same, and it brought a smile to his face.
Jungkook wanted to tackle life with you, the good, the bad, all of it; he wanted to do it with you by his side. He wanted to make sure every day of your life from here on out was filled with happiness and love and everything you deserved in the world, just as you wanted to do the same for him. He knew you’d do anything for him, and he’d do anything for you.
Only for you.
#bts#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook au#jungkook x reader#jungkook scenarios#ofy drabble
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3 nights || jw x reader
summary: a one-night hookup turns into three (based off of the song 3 nights by dominic fike )
warnings: swearing, smut (18+), unprotected sex (uh yeah don’t do that)
word count: 2.2k
a/n: this is an old tom holland piece of mine that i thought would fit wonwoo (my tom holland blog is @wazzupmrstark if you wanna check it out)
masterlist
A hellish smirk tugged at Wonwoo’s lips as he gazed down at his phone in the midst of a pitch meeting. He glanced at the image he’d been sent for a second more before sliding his phone back in his pocket and lifting his head to indicate he was paying attention. But he was distracted. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for Jeon Wonwoo to receive nude pictures from unsaved numbers, but he was pretty sure he knew who this one was from. At least he hoped. You had cropped your face out of it, but from the expanse of your collarbone to the curve of your hip he could recognize the freckles under your breasts and the small scar just below your belly button.
He waited until he was dismissed from the meeting to respond. Didn’t want to seem too eager.
What did I do to deserve this out of the blue, darling?
You didn’t respond right away. He shouldn’t have been surprised, he hadn’t responded right away, so why would you? You had better things to be doing than sit around waiting for him to text back, but a selfish part of him wished that you were.
You were a bit different from Wonwoo’s other lays, but he didn’t mean that in the nauseating ‘you’re not like other girls’ way that men liked to use to get into a girl’s pants. He didn’t really need to use cheesy, comparative shit like that if he was being honest. All he had to do was send a wyd text at 2am to get a girl to come over. Unless that girl was you.
Of course, you were beautiful, and incredible in bed, but something about you always left him wanting more. Maybe it was the fact that your presence was fleeting, you never stayed very long afterwards. Maybe your elusiveness tugged at a deeper curiosity in the back of his mind that he was unaware of. He was already familiar with every inch of your body, but truthfully he knew very little else about you. and maybe that’s what intrigued him.
Or maybe it was the simplicity. Routine hookups, no strings attached- regardless of how many times you came… over.
Whatever it was that kept you on his mind, Wonwoo didn’t dwell. He pushed all questions and logic away when he was with you. And when he wasn’t… he tried not to think about it. But it was difficult not to when you sent him pictures like that out of nowhere, no context, not even a response.
Ding!
Never mind.
Oops wrong person ;)
Wonwoo let out a low chuckle and shook his head. Of course, there was a small part of him that wondered if you had actually meant to send that to someone else, but he shook it off. If he knew you at all, which granted he really didn’t, he knew this game.
He didn’t hesitate to respond this time.
Shame… was gonna ask if you were busy tonight.
Only a few seconds passed before his phone buzzed again.
What did you have in mind??
You.
It was corny, sure, but effective.
I think I can make something work.
He grinned at the screen and sighed, licking his lips.
9pm. Our place.
-
You hadn’t even taken off your coat by the time he had you up against the door with his mouth on your neck, pressing breathy kisses to your skin. You gasped as he sucked a hickey just under your jaw, closing your eyes and moaning his name.
A seedy motel in the middle of the city wasn’t the… most ideal spot for late night booty calls. The sunset-colored wallpaper was peeling and the showers only worked sometimes, but in the grand scheme of things, location wasn’t important. It was still the best sex of your life, and they had cheap vending machine snacks.
The bed creaked and choked out a cloud of dust when Wonwoo pushed you onto it, but you just laughed and pulled at the waistband of his jeans for him to join you.
He smiled into a kiss that turned desperate. His hands were on your zipper, your bra clasp, your panties, anything to get you undressed faster. You held in a whimper when he sat up to undo his belt, something about the way he did that always drove you crazy. He smirked knowingly as he did and took his time.
You whined impatiently and nudged at him with a knee to hurry up. Thankfully, Wonwoo wasn’t one to leave you hanging and was back on you instantly. He pressed a thigh in between your legs and licked a stripe up the valley of your breasts, choosing the left, his favorite, to nip at.
“Fuck, Wonwoo,” you groaned, grinding up against him.
He paused and lifted himself so that he was hovering above you. “How was your day?”
You rolled your eyes and threw your head back in frustration. “Can we not?”
“I can’t ask you how your day was?”
“That’s not what I’m here for, and you know it.”
“Then what are you here for?” he asked, wanting you to say it out loud. You kissed him instead and took the distraction as an opportunity to pull him by the collar and flip him so that you were on his lap.
You tugged at his jeans and boxers playfully. “This.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Good one.”
“I know.”
He lifted his head to kiss you and you gave in with a quick peck on the lips. As often as you were with Wonwoo, you never took the time to notice how pretty he was. You knew he was hot. You could write an entire dissertation on how fucking fit he was, but as you gazed down at him underneath you you realized just how lovely this boy really was, especially like this. His dark hair was soft and wavy without all the product in it, and god his lips were so pink, and the way he looked at you…
You kissed him again, fiercely this time, and slid a hand down his pants just to feel him. He groaned, already needy.
“Wait-” he pulled back and sat up on his elbows.
“What?” You were worried you’d done something wrong, stared at him like you were in love with him for a second too long and he’d caught on.
“Do you want me to go down on you?”
You sighed in relief and laughed. “No need, I’m already soaked.”
“I can tell,” he quipped back and quirked an eyebrow.
You were a little embarrassed he could feel your arousal through his jeans and cursed. “Fuck you!”
“I believe you were just about to.”
“You’re lucky I’m horny, Wonwoo,” you growled.
“Tell me about it.” He smirked and laid back with an arm over his head.
Sometimes you wondered if the sex was really worth it, even if he was the best you’d ever had…
Of all the ways Wonwoo could fuck you, this had to be one of his favorites. There was just something about you on top of him that he couldn’t handle. The way your delicate gold necklace dangled in his face as you rode him, the way his hands fit so perfectly on your ass, the way your hair hung around your shoulders. He never lasted long.
To be fair, neither did you. And the way Wonwoo was saying your name wasn’t helping. Every time you lowered yourself back on him and his cock hit that spot inside you that burning intensity in your stomach grew a little stronger.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t out of breath and your thighs weren’t starting to get sore, but Wonwoo was begging you not to stop and you’d be damned if you let him down.
“Y/n, I’m close,” he warned and brought his fingers to your clit to make sure you were right there with him.
You just nodded, too far gone to say much else as you chased the high that was just out of reach. Wonwoo thrust up into you a final time and finished with a moan of your name tumbling from his lips.
Even as he was coming down he continued to massage your clit.
“Cum for me, love.” His voice was spent and gravelly and his eyes were pleading and fuck, who were you to deny him? You gripped his shoulders hard as your whole body tensed and you tipped over the edge.
And for a moment the world stopped spinning and time stopped moving as electricity surged through your body and you forgot your own name.
Wonwoo was still whispering words of quiet praise when you collapsed on his chest seconds later, trembling.
“That’s it, darling. That’s good.”
You let him rub your back like that until you caught your breath enough to sit up and roll off of him. You immediately started collecting your clothes from around the room and putting them back on as Wonwoo did the same.
“Two cherry cokes?” he asked and you nodded.
“And powdered donuts?”
“Give me some credit, how could I forget?”
It was something of a tradition to share a snack and a soda after you hooked up. It had started on a night when both of you were too drunk to drive anywhere afterwards so you passed the time sitting in bed eating stale powdered donuts and drinking soda to sober up. Logically, you could have slept it off and went home the next morning, but it was a rule you had to never sleep over at a one-night-stand’s place. Even neutral territory like this was off limits.
Wonwoo could’ve gone to bed without you and left you to fend for yourself but instead he made the trek out to the vending machines in his boxers to get you both some food. Turns out cherry coke was the only soda they had, and there was no telling how old it was, but it was better than nothing.
That night was so long ago, but you still remembered how he stayed up with you until four in the morning watching shitty reality shows on the fuzzy tv, talking about exes and weird dreams and hobbies you both wanted to learn. You wondered if he ever ended up teaching himself pottery.
Wonwoo was back with the goods before you could blink and handed you your respective share of the stash. You held your can up and clinked it against his before taking a sip. You’d grown to like the syrupy sweet taste of it by now, and even found yourself craving it when you weren’t with Wonwoo.
“Same time tomorrow?” Wonwoo asked as you buttoned your pants.
“You’ll still be in town?”
Usually he didn’t stay for long unless he was working on his music so you didn’t let yourself get hopeful just in case he was kidding.
“And the next day,” he confirmed. It was an invitation.
“You’re not one for planning ahead,” you pointed out, gathering the rest of your belongings in your arms.
“There’s a first time for everything.”
-
Wonwoo didn’t sleep well that night. He never did when he wasn’t in his own bed, but this was different. He couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened just hours ago in that run-down motel by the highway and what might happen tomorrow.
His members had been confused when he moved his flight back home two days and he hadn’t given them any other explanation than ‘catching up with friends’ for them to go off of. He had those days off anyway. Seoul would be fine without him until then.
But uncertainty lingered in his mind. What if you didn’t call? What if you were busy? He knew your world didn’t revolve around him, but he was starting to wish it did. It was stupid, and there were dozens of other people he could call for a quick fuck in this town if you stood him up, but suddenly none of them sounded interesting.
He circled back to that picture you’d sent him earlier and found himself wishing he could see your face.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” he muttered out loud to no one in particular and forced himself to turn his phone off to try and sleep again.
-
The second night was much like the first. Quick sex, donuts, cherry coke. You didn’t even finish your half of the donuts before you were out the door. You expected the third night to be the same, along with that awkward ‘we might never see each other again’ interaction that happens at the end of every fling, but what you got was far from it.
“You should stay.”
You already had one shoe on when he dropped that out of nowhere and-
“What?” was all you could say.
“It’s late, you should stay over. We could get breakfast in the morning or something.”
“Wonwoo, I-”
“You don’t sleep over after one-night-stands, I know.”
“Then why are you asking me?”
“Well, it’s been three nights…” he trailed off.
“But it’s the same arrangement,” you argued.
“What if it wasn’t?”
You put down your other shoe and stood up. “What are you saying?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“I have those rules for a reason. I didn’t just make them up for fun. Without them… feelings get hurt. Hearts get broken. Things get complicated.”
“I know.” Wonwoo sighed softly and took a tentative step towards you. “But-”
“But what?”
“But it doesn’t have to be like that,” he finished. “It won’t be like that.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t,” he said honestly. “But there’s a first time for everything.”
lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!
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#3 nights#jeon wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x you#wonwoo x y/n#wonwoo smut#jeon wonwoo smut#seventeen smut
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cozen.
a/n: just realized that the colors of my banners are different on laptop and phone and that pissed me off.
word count: 3.9k
genre: smut, nsfw
warnings: noncon/dubcon, exhibitionism, public sex, thigh riding, squirting, sexual assault, stalking, power abuse
pairing: aizawa x f!reader
summary: where aizawa deliberately takes on the roll as your guardian inside the train, but of course he has other plans.
the worst place to be during the rush hour would be inside a train.
aizawa never bothered to commute because he often walked to work and back home but for you, he was willing to make an exception.
you caught his attention during one of his evening patrols, walking alone in the big city with a short skirt that accentuated your curves and long legs. aizawa discovered the fact that you used the train to get to work daily and with the fact that you were always alone, he knew that you were always put in a vulnerable situation. so, he thought; why not keep an eye on you? maybe his job as a hero could give him a little advantage too.
like a child, he finds himself eager to get on the train. of course, he doesn’t really know which coach you would be standing in but his commute turns out to be so much worth it whenever he does end up standing in the same one as you.
in the morning, you would be there before he gets in and he’s the first one to step off the train in the evening. he assumes that you live somewhere closer to the end of the train’s final stop but he doesn’t know exactly where. so far, he has learned which station you use to wait for the train for your ride home from work.
and today seems to be one of those days where he is lucky enough to see you in the same coach, squeezed between a throng of people. aizawa always noticed the fed up and uncomfortable look on your face as you held on to the bar but it was because of no other than a pervert deliberately rubbing his front on your backside.
he’s sort of mad that you just let it happen, quietly accepting the assault being thrown at you. he can see how your face is contorted into anger and vexation as you try to nudge the man with your elbow and what he assumes as the man muttering half-assed apologies before he starts to blatantly repeat the same shit again.
you look around pleadingly for someone to intervene and your hands are balled into tight fists, ready to swing any moment but you hesitate because you’re afraid of being the one who will end up getting into trouble and especially since you don’t have any concrete evidence that you’re being harassed either.
for a moment, his gaze locks briefly with yours before you turn away, probably to seek for someone else to come to your aid. he knows that almost no heroes ride the train, since they either patrol on the streets or keep watch from up above but he is currently the outlier, and what kind of hero would he be if he just continues to turn a blind eye on this? maybe it’s time for him to steal the opportunity to play hero and finally get an excuse to talk to you after a long time of observing you from the sidelines.
aizawa slowly pushes the people aside to make his way over to your side and takes you by surprise by putting his hand on your shoulder.
“baby, why didn’t you pick up the phone?” he sighs and says a little too loudly so the creep behind you can hear. you look at him perplexingly but he just gives you a silent look that tells you to play along.
“u-uh.. i’m sorry. my phone is on silent.” you try to reply with the same tone. “but i’m glad you found me! thought i’ve lost you.”
the way you inch closer to him doesn’t go unnoticed, especially how your boob is literally pressing on his side. aizawa quickly glances to the man who still seems to be unbothered by the fake acting (not that he can tell) so he spins you around to face him instead.
good lord. maybe he shouldn’t have done that.
now aizawa can clearly see that your tits are squished against his chest through the unbuttoned top of your little white blouse. your gaze strays somewhere else, probably in embarrassment or maybe you don’t mind at all– he can’t tell nor can he think straight right now but he’s here for one purpose and he’s going to honor it.
“how’s work today?” he inquires, turning your head to him with his fingers so it would seem like you both are engaging in a natural conversation between lovers. he is able to see your tired eyes up close but they seem to carry the same soft look he’s so smitten with.
“hard.” he tenses up a little at the possibility of you noticing the erection in his pants but thank god they’re baggy or else the tent would be obvious. “i missed you.”
aizawa’s heart is bursting in his chest but he places on his mask of unfazed expression perfectly. he still has a role to play after all.
he leans down to whisper in your ear yet his eyes bore intimidatingly into the man’s, “i’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. but i promised to take good care of you tonight, remember?”
perhaps that was a bit of an overstate, but hey, it works. now that the man has caught on, he immediately walks off the train as soon as it stops– not even bothering whether it's where he’s supposed to go or not as he tries to run away from the possibility of getting into trouble with another guy.
“you okay?” he steps back and takes a good look at you only to realize how you’re avoiding his gaze to hide your evidently flushed face. how cute. “you don’t look so good.”
“i-i’m fine.” you mutter. “thank you for saving me.”
“no problem. it’s a part of my job. i just happened to be here.” he points out in a blatant lie.
you look at him in surprise as if finally connecting the dots, “wait, are you a hero?”
“uh, i guess– yes, i am.”
it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a hero being vague about his profession– or maybe you just made him feel uncomfortable to admit that he’s one when you, a quirkless citizen should be acknowledging the heroes that are risking their lives to protect the country so they should at least deserve some recognition, him included.
“i’m sorry. i didn’t recognize you and i don’t really keep up with the heroes.” you laugh nervously, afraid of offending the male. though you can’t really tell what he thinks nor can you tell if he even cares from the look on his face but he only observes you silently before his lips turn to a lopsided smile.
he doesn’t take it to heart, of course, but he finds it endearing that you’re trying to make him feel better. aizawa is not one that likes to be in the limelight anyway, so he doesn’t blame you.
the number of people in the train gradually dissipates as the train stops station by station, leaving him and you together with some other few who have taken their seats to doze off. aizawa’s platform has long passed by but he decides to stay with you with intent to know where you actually live.
aizawa doesn’t speak much the whole ride, only answering your questions and listening to you as you talk about your life. he learns that you’re a fresh graduate who just started working in an office and saving up to buy a car so you don’t have to trouble yourself with train rides anymore. he doesn’t know why you entrust him with the fact that you live alone in your apartment, but he’s relieved that you do. maybe it’s easy to trust a hero. man or not.
but his filthy gaze lingers around your body once in a while– blood rushes to his cock when he sees the plush thighs that are exposed from your short skirt as you sit, the two buttons on your blouse that looks like they’re about to pop off from your breasts and the way your puffy lips jut out slightly when you stare out the window to watch the sun slowly disappears below the horizon to make way for the dark sky. the ride would’ve been peaceful if not for the uncomfortable throb inside his pants right now.
and soon enough, you stand up from your seat and grab your bag in preparation to step off from the agonizing ride.
“this is my stop. thank you again, eraser head. it’s nice meeting you!” you beam sweetly before you walk off the train and wave him goodbye as the doors slowly closes between the two of you.
aizawa can’t wait to see you again tomorrow– but now he needs a change of pace. since he doesn’t want to take risk of you finding out that he intentionally missed his platform, he chooses to only ride the train in the evening now.
with his height, aizawa is able to see you looking around as soon as you step into the train with exhaustion written all over your face. however, it’s instantly washed away with an exuberant look when you notice him staring at you from the other side. his heart swells with joy as he watches you push yourself through the crowd with your bag covering your chest protectively.
“found you, eraser!” you chirp as you stand in front of the male.
“oh? so you were looking for me?” he replies coyly, sinking lower into his scarf to keep his burning cheeks out of sight.
you nod eagerly and sigh, “i looked for you this morning too, but i guess you were on a different coach or something.”
“why? you wanted to use me so i’d protect you from perverts?”
“oops. busted.” you laugh.
if that’s the one thing that binds you and him, he doesn’t really mind. aizawa is pleased to know that you’re willing to be around him as much as he does. it then comes to a point where you both promise to be in the same coach in the evening.
it has been over a week since aizawa restrained his lecherous intentions. all of those days he has seen you don that short skirt that seems to hug your ass so well. every weekday evening he gets to glance down over your cleavage when you press yourself closely against him and when you’re not facing him? he can feel that ass just lightly brushing, teasing him when the train shakes and he knows he won’t be able to take it any longer.
what is he waiting for anyway? when this is all what he coveted in the first place? fuck playing the reliable hero.
aizawa doesn’t want to regard himself and the creeps inside the train as equals. he’s different. he’s a hero and because of that, he got you always wanting to stay close to him without him compelling. you’re so sweet to him, so trusting and you never give him the dirty look whenever he places his hand too low on your back.
more people are joining in from different stations so as usual, aizawa quickly pulls you into a corner nearby one of the doors which he knows won’t be opening for people to get in and get out. he only keeps guard by standing behind you as you take in the view of the same buildings and skyline.
“you have no idea how much i’m dying to own a car.” you sigh as you stare outside the glass window unheedingly and completely oblivious to your surroundings.
“yes. you’ve said that a million times.” he carefully inches closer (as much as he can anyway) and bravely takes a whiff of your shampoo that never fails to fill and rouse his senses.
“i’m sorry,” you titter. “you must’ve gotten bored of hearing it.”
“no, i like it.” he whispers audibly in your ear, just enough for both of you to hear.
“i’m gla–” you’re suddenly startled when you feel something hard prodding against your ass. you start to feel uneasy and try to shift away but a pair of hands brazenly grab your breasts, almost making you yelp in surprise.
“shh,” his hot breath fans over the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “don’t wanna make a scene.”
your heart instantly drops once you realize the person you trust most, a hero at that, is doing the very same thing he protected you from. you can see the vague reflection ahead– the way his hands are massaging your tits as he litters chaste kisses on the crook of your neck.
you attempt to pry his hands off of you, but he only grabs harder and pushes you closer to the front until your forehead presses against the cold glass.
“aizawa– stop.”
aizawa can hear panic lacing in your voice as you whimper but he simply brushes off your plea, too busy soothing his carnal needs by grinding his hard cock against your ass.
“no. you feel so good.” he nibbles your neck, sucking and biting the supple flesh to leave a bruising mark.
“p-people are gonna see.”
“that’d be really hot.” he hoists up your short skirt to prop his knees between your thighs before one of his hands guides your hip and compels you to grind your pussy against his own thigh.
your eyes lingers around the crowd in the train, in between looking for help and hoping that no one sees what he’s doing to you but everyone’s either immersed in their phones or napping and even when someone does notice you, they just turn away uncomfortably.
“looks like i’m the only hero in this train, kitten.” he says ironically as the hand from your hips snakes in front to rub circles on your clit. “feels good, does it?” he coos as you try to muffle your whines from escaping.
you’re clawing on his wrist in an attempt to make him stop, but the harder you try to, the harder he presses your mound and clit.
aizawa slips two fingers inside your panties, barely biting back a groan once he uncovers you wet beneath his fingers.
“what a surprise.” he chuckles, smearing his fingers with your slick before bringing it up to your mouth. “open up, kitten.”
you purse your lips in retaliation but he easily rubs his thumb on your hardened nipple, causing you to gasp and he quickly shoves his fingers inside your mouth. your tongue wraps around his fingers, sucking and tasting your own flavor as he observes you through the reflection.
“you like how it tastes?” he pulls out his fingers from your mouth with a lewd pop sound before tugging your panties to the side and sliding a digit swiftly inside your cunt. a surprised yelp manages to roll off your tongue from the intrusion but you quickly look down to hide your humiliation and away from the peculiar gazes of others inside the coach.
aizawa hushes you as he thrusts his fingers slowly, savoring the tightness of your walls while also attempting to keep down the squelching noises from your dripping cunt.
“it’s okay. most of them are going to step off soon, then you can be as loud as you want.” he murmurs, holding you close to his body while his other hand continuously rubs your nipple with his thumb to stimulate you even further until your world is reduced to his satisfying ministrations.
as time passes by, more and more people have left the train while a few sleepers still remain. aizawa already has two fingers pumping inside your sopping cunt and your slick is already trickling down your thighs as you try hard to hold in your whines.
“please– i can’t–” your legs have grown weaker and you can only find support by leaning back against his broad chest. your toes are curling inside your heels and your breath has come out shorter and deeper as he keeps on edging you until he thinks it’s safe to fuck you without the presence of other people seeing his unheroic actions.
“you wanna cum, pretty girl?” he finally picks up the pace, causing your body to squirm as you moan breathlessly.
“y-yes– please–”
“you’re really sucking me in.” he groans, dragging and curling his fingers against the spongy walls that makes your thighs tremble as you edge closer to an orgasm. “cum for me.”
your hands are clenching hard on his forearm and you feel the muscles in your stomach tightening with so much intensity. with his finger pressing down on your throbbing bud, you eventually come undone and you bite on his arm to stifle your screams.
“that’s it, princess. just what you need after a long day at work, huh?” he kisses your temple soothingly as you regain composure and struggle to fix your skirt, but he stops you from doing so.
“aizawa..?”
“i had a hard day at work too, you know.” he tugs your panties down to your ankles and picks it up. “i deserve something from you too, right? and i’m not talking about this.” you see him showing your panties through the glass before he shoves it inside his pocket.
aizawa wraps his scarf around your body and drags you to the middle of the coach. the fabric works as a bind around your wrists and ties onto the bar handle on top of your head to keep you restrained and exposed in front of a man that is sleeping in his seat.
“let’s hope he doesn’t wake up soon, hm?” he chuckles and takes his place behind you.
“you’re out of your–!”
you can barely contain your shriek when aizawa suddenly rips off the middle of your blouse that sends the buttons flying across from you and he quickly slips his hands underneath your bra to fondle your breasts.
“careful not to wake him up, princess.” he tweaks your pebbled nipples between his fingers to provoke the slightest sound from you but you press your lips firmly to conceal your mewls. “or else he’s gonna see me fucking your tight cunt.”
aizawa spits on his hand and smears his saliva with your slick, making you shudder from sensitivity before his fingers prod into your hole to give you a few pumps in preparation for his cock.
“i’ve been waiting for this for far too long.” he unzips his pants hastily to free his cock from its confinements and you gulp nervously when you see it in the reflection ahead– already throbbing and fully erected. aizawa lifts one of your legs up and rubs his shaft against your wet, puffy folds before lining his cock with your entrance.
you look down at the man anxiously, praying silently for him to not wake up (or maybe just never at all) to see you with your legs spread in front of his face for god knows how long it’ll be. you bite your lower lip hard when you feel aizawa’s cock sinking inside your cunt, stretching it as he pushes through your walls.
“shit. so fucking tight.” he growls in your ear as he sheathes his cock into you, pushing through your convulsing walls and until he has filled you to the brim. he starts to pound into you slowly and you bite back a moan when you feel the delicious drags of his veiny cock inside you.
his tongue traces the shell of your ear, licking all around the erogenous zone that has you shuddering and clenching down on him even more.
“mmph– you’re milking my cock so well, kitten.” he grunts, flicking your nipple with his free hand before toying with your clit.
“ah– he-he’s gonna wake up.” you pant, tugging your wrists for release as if the way it binds so securely doesn’t tell you enough that it would be impossible.
“then he’s gonna get one hell of a show.” he says nonchalantly before picking up his pace.
the squelching noises begin to fill the quiet air as aizawa continues to fuck you relentlessly. your slick is dripping down to his balls and your thighs, pooling underneath you and you can feel that you’re close to reaching another orgasm.
as your state has become more delirious, the man in front of you suddenly grunts in his sleep and a cold rush of fear instantly creeps down your spine. yet, aizawa doesn’t seem bothered when he remains to be balls deep inside you.
“i think you’re getting off on this, princess.” he says between breaths, rutting into you harder when he feels how hard you’re clamping around his cock.
“b-but– i’m gonna cum–” you whine, body squirming as you ground yourself to not cum.
your pussy is spread wide open in front of the man when aizawa easily lifts up your other leg. your heels have fallen under you and now you’re just practically hanging in mid air with his scarf and hands supporting your body. he angles deeper inside your cunny and your head throws back onto his shoulder when you feel the tip brushing against your cervix.
“then, cum.” it’s baffling how he manages to make it sound simple, not having a care in the world as if his reputation isn’t in the line right now. “look at me.”
you shyly turn your head to meet his heavy lidded eyes before he crashes his lips onto yours. you drown into his fervor kiss while the pressure continues to build in your lower stomach turns more intense and unbearable. at this point, you think it’s best to just swallow your humiliation.
“let it go.” he whispers against your lips and locks his gaze with your wavering eyes.
“f-fuck– cumming–!” you instantly draw in for a deep kiss to make him swallow your moans as you finally let yourself come undone. it feels oddly relieving in a sense that has your mind turned to mush, together with the feeling of an insurmountable high. the moment your eyes flutter open again, you realize that there are questionable droplets of water staining the glass window in front of you.
“you’re a little exhibitionist, aren’t you?” he mocks, yet proud and even more aroused that he managed to make you squirt in a public transport. “he might need to clean up.”
your eyes trail down to the man in front of you to see some amount of your own arousal trickling down on his poor face. you're so dazed with pleasure that you don’t even bother to care anymore and you just let aizawa fucks you through your high before his cock begins to twitch inside your pussy.
“be a good girl and take all my cum.” his pace soon falters and he holds you still before releasing a thick load inside your cunt. after he has emptied out, aizawa leans in the crook of your neck to catch his breath before removing his cock and putting you down gently.
“that was fucking good.” he sighs gratifyingly as he pulls his pants back up. aizawa unties your restraints and your legs wobble once they touch the ground, but he quickly catches you in his arms to keep you from falling to the floor. as if on cue, the train finally comes to a halt.
“oh, we’re here.” he picks up your shoes and bag before pulling you closer to him to stand in front of the automatic door. “do you need me to carry you or something?”
you look at him confusingly, then to the small map above your head; you’re at least two stops away from your station and three from his. “but this isn’t our stop.”
“well, this one has always been mine.”
duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.
#aizawa shouta#shouta aizawa#aizawa x reader#aizawa x you#aizawa smut#bnha smut#mha smut#aizawa fanfic#bnha fanfic#bnha aizawa#r; writes#tw; noncon#tw; dubcon#tw; stalking#tw; assault
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three's a crowd | nomin
synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.
warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop
disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.
note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!
the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.
it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.
"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"
stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.
if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.
"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.
"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."
screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.
now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!
the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.
you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.
"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."
this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.
jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.
no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.
he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.
"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"
"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"
"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.
"convince me?"
you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.
it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.
and you weren't stupid.
you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.
"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"
the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.
if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.
you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.
that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.
while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.
it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.
you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.
you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.
but you've overestimated lee jeno.
"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."
"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"
you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.
how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.
"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."
you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?
you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.
you've never ran out as fast as you did.
and jeno swears it'll be the last.
you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.
although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.
and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.
but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.
jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.
you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.
although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.
it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.
one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.
so this was how he got them to bully you?
"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"
"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"
all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.
no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.
because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?
we lost :(
you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.
in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.
not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.
tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.
jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.
and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.
jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.
he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.
you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.
as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.
after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.
the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.
you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.
they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.
you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.
"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."
it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.
you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.
you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—
"what are you doing here?"
the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.
"i said, what are you doing here?"
their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.
particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.
particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.
this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.
"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."
coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.
you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.
"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.
fuck this.
"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"
originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.
everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.
you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—
"why are you in such a rush, pet?"
crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.
with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.
jaemin was right.
it was addicting to stare into them.
especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.
jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.
he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.
"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"
no. this can't be happening.
"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."
you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.
with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.
if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.
"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."
the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.
this is really happening.
you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.
"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"
you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.
"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"
his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.
with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.
you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.
"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.
you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.
until it slips and—
you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.
oh no.
"jeno—"
the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.
the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.
until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.
"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"
his patience is nonexistent.
jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.
"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"
the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.
your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.
"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.
"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."
with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.
you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.
the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.
"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."
his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.
jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.
the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.
"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"
someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.
you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.
you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.
in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.
it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.
the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.
when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.
in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.
you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.
“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.
jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.
while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.
he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.
you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."
you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.
"no—!"
your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.
"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"
you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.
it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.
the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.
you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.
it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.
jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.
you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.
"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.
"jeno, do you see this? fuck."
you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.
you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.
if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.
"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.
"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.
he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"
"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"
you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.
you felt… filthy.
his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.
you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.
"i'm the favorite!"
"i'm the favorite!"
as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.
all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.
you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.
thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.
but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.
"who do you like best?"
you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.
jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?
but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.
because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.
#nct imagines#yandere nct#yandere kpop#nct smut#nct scenarios#yandere jaemin#yandere jeno#jaemin imagines#jeno imagines#jaemin scenarios#jeno scenarios#jaemin smut#jeno smut
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Obey Me! The Present
a/n: not suitable for work
Well, this took a week of my life, but it's ok! It's obviously something I needed to get off my chest (ahem). I hope you enjoy. 🟣🔵⚫
pairing: F!MC x Belphegor, category: (very) not suitable for work, warnings: some angst, virgin sex, penetration, oral sex, teasing, man-eating petunias. description: Belphie give F!MC the present she's always wanted. wordcount: 2.1k
"Is there anything else I can do for you for your birthday? Being your present and all. "
In your room, Belphie stands in front of you with his usual coy smile. Tall and gorgeous, he cocks his head to one side causing hair to fall into his violet eyes. He confidently holds your gaze. As the gaze lingers, his smile deepens, playfully suggestive.
Today is your birthday and you've spent it on a date with Belphie. Feeling guilty after forgetting to buy you anything, he had cleverly volunteered to be your present, granting you any wishes you wanted.
Excited by his creativity (and the prospect of time with him alone), you had taken full advantage, first visiting the planetarium and then the botanical gardens. You'd laughed together, played around, took naps under a tree with his head in your lap. At the botanical gardens, he'd even rescued you from man-eating petunias after you took a wrong turn, and had shamelessly teased you about it since. Everything was effortless and fun when you were together.
And now, looking at his smiling face, you reflected on how far the two of you'd come. This wasn't Belphie from long ago in the attic; the angry and vengeful demon that once tried to kill you, heart twisted with hate from the loss of his beloved sister. No, he had changed. As time had gone on, he had warmed to the whole world, even to his older brother Lucifer, whom he had once admitted hating to the point of murder. He was now letting people to get close to him again. And especially you. He had opened the door to his heart and was inviting you in.
Because of the complicated history you shared, a special bond grew between you. His aloofness drew your open and loving nature like a moth to a flame, and you clicked like magnets due to your differences. Over any of the other brothers, he made you feel comfortable. Facing him now, you realized you've fallen hard for the infamous sloth demon. It was for those reasons, a response to his question immediately floated to your lips.
"Kiss me", you say, giving him a smile of your own.
"Sure", he agrees, a blush on his cheeks. Your lips meet. It's soft and sweet. Somehow, even though you aren't sure where he found the time between naps to become this way, Belphie is an incredible kisser.
His lips push down on yours with a little more force, then abruptly pull back, leaving you breathless. "Is that all?" he asks. "In that case, I'll give myself to you every day" his eyes crinkle in a smile, ever teasing.
You wet your lips, heart pattering in your chest. You did want more from him...a lot more. Now or never. you think. You catch his hand and hold it. "Ah...Belphie...actually, what I want instead, is to give m-myself....to you." you stammer a little in getting it out. His eyes widen as he realizes what you're insinuating. Silence.
"MC...you sure? With me?" Belphie stares back at you, no longer joking. He pauses. "Why me? Why not Lucifer...or...or...The Great Mammon?" he says, with a sarcastic flourish.
When he sees your face drop, he immediately apologizes and runs a hand through his thick hair, ruffling it. His voice softens. "I'm sorry...I've been angry for so long, you know? Sometimes it just comes out when I don't mean it to."
He takes your hand again and pulls you to the bed where you sit down together. Color rises in his cheeks. "Really though...I've lied to you, I've manipulated you. Not that long ago...I even tried to kill you. Why am I the one you want for this?" He searches your face for an answer.
"You're my master, I can't refuse you, and I'd be crazy to anyway, but...why me?" Standing up, he paces a few feet in a circle, then sits down again. You've rarely seen him this worked up; it's obvious he still hasn't totally forgiven himself for hurting you.
"I love you Belphie", the words fall out of your mouth. Your eyes widen. You search your feelings and know it isn't a lie. His eyes are wide too. "Do...do you mean that?" he questions, leaning back.
You nod, "I need you, Belphie. I feel safe with you; I know you'd never hurt me now. And...I know you need me too". You continue, your voice low. "I want you. More than anyone else".
The words visibly shake him. He drops his head, staring into his lap, then slowly brings his head back up and gazes at you. You're taken aback by the open desire you see there. It's as if a mask has fallen off and you're seeing the real him for the first time.
When he speaks, it's slowly, deliberately.
"I want to know you that way, MC...More intimately than anyone ever has." His eyes start to glow a fierce purple. "You're mine, and I want to be your first. I want to give you something to remember me by when you go back to the human world." You swallow hard, your heart starting to race and nod.
He leans forward, takes your face between his hands, and kisses you. And again. Deeply, tongue reaching hungrily into your mouth. You whimper against his lips, full of want.
You give yourself over completely to his touch. His hands are on your face, guiding the movement of your heads. It feels so good, all the strength leaves you, and you fully let him hold you up. Between kisses, he makes small sounds of passion.
"You drive me crazy" he murmurs, looking into your eyes. A thrill runs up your spine. He's here, fully here - with you. No distance. Not a trace of sleepiness. In this moment of closeness, Belphie has completely overcome his sin.
You gasp as his fingers effortlessly snap off the button to your jeans with an audible pop. "Oops", he says, not sounding sorry in the slightest.
He leans you back onto the covers. Continuing to kiss you, he slides his hand into your jeans and caresses your lower stomach, playing with the hollow of your hip bone. Ticklish, you sharply draw in a breath, causing him to smile at you. "Don't be nervous" he says reassuringly. "I'll take care of you".
He sides your pants down, and then completely takes them off. You shiver, all at once feeling vulnerable.
"Mmmm..." He murmurs, looking over your body. "You're so beautiful. I've dreamed about getting to touch you like this". He reverently slides his hands up and down your thighs, your hips, your waist. Goosebumps raise up at his touch.
Holding your gaze, he leans down and pulls your shirt over your head then sits upright and does the same for himself. His hair is even more disheveled afterward and the thought of it being that way because you're in bed together turns you on.
Even though you've napped together endlessly, you've never seen this much of his body, and you sigh with pleasure drinking in the width of his shoulders, his flat stomach. He watches you just as avidly and the small smile returns as he sees the effect he has on you.
Leaning in, Belphie captures your lips once more in a steamy kiss. Running his hands up your shoulders, he cups your cheeks, then traces down your back and unhooks your bra. You respond by thrusting your own hands into his hair and pulling him to you.
He kisses his way down your chest and your stomach, where his lips leave little trails of fire on your skin. You try but can't remember ever feeling more aroused. He playfully nips your belly button as it goes by, and smiles when you jump and protest, eyes glinting.
Belphie stops between your legs, breathing out slowly, and kisses up one of your thighs. At the top he hugs it to his face, cheek pressing into the flesh. Pausing, he looks at you sideways and says, "I've wanted to do this since we met".
Taking his time, he hooks your panties with one finger and pulls them down. Admiring the view, he runs a finger down your core, lightly teasing your clit. You sigh, then jump when he gives a jerk. "You're so fucking wet down here" he utters in awed tones.
Seeing you so excited for him seems to unhinge him a little. Looking at your soaked slit with total attention, he raises his finger to his lips and lightly sucks off your excitement. His eyes flutter close and a low groan of desire escapes him. Leaning in, he buries his face in your folds. His soft tongue pushes roughly against your swollen clit and it's your turn to gasp.
He continues to work on you for a few minutes. The pleasure overwhelms you, but still, you want him deeper. Parts of yourself you aren't familiar with are showing up and demanding to be satisfied. You try to stretch your legs further and wider apart so his tongue can reach every needy part of you. More than happy to help, he greedily tongues your tight hole. "B-Belphie!" Your voice rises as you near your climax. He reaches one hand up and laces your fingers through his. "Go ahead, MC...I've got you, you're safe. I want to taste you when you cum." Soothed, you let yourself go fully, shuddering, waves of euphoria threatening to drown you. "Mmmm..." Belphie says contentedly. You can feel his lips as he captures every last drop on his tongue.
You collapse into the pillows as the pleasure ebbs away, but he doesn't give you time to rest. You feel manicured fingers slide into your slippery hole. At first, it's a gentle in-and-out getting you used to the sensation. You squirm, your flesh still sensitive from his earlier attentions. After a few moments, he picks up the pace and starts pushing into you faster and deeper, turning and curling the digits. Mewling with every thrust, you blush bright red, still a little self-conscious From his place cradled between your legs, he watches your face possessively. "I love your sounds", he says.
Pleasure begins to fill your abdomen once again as you near climax, and you involuntarily start to grind against his hand, desperate to increase the tempo. Loving your impatience, he dips his head down and bites you on the inside of your thigh, near your core. Surprised by the unexpected sensation, you're pushed over the edge, launching into oblivion for the second time. This time he can't help himself and covers your mouth in a passionate kiss, jealously swallowing your cries of pleasure.
Thoroughly ravaged, you look up at him through half-lidded eyes. Belphie looks back at you, spellbound by the state you're in. "B...Belphie", you manage to get out. "What, MC?" he softly answers. "I need you inside me", you pleadingly say to his violet eyes. He shudders and pulls back from you.
"Okay", he says, unfastening his pants button. He pulls them down and his length springs out, large, strong, and perfect. Dazzled, your mouth drops open slightly. He smiles confidently at you and crawls back up your body. Once there, he turns your hips so you're lying on your back with your hips to one side, lined up to your exposed slit on his knees. He runs his hands over your ass, squeezing it, testing its softness, before bringing his hands back to grip your hip with both hands. "Tell me if I hurt you", he says with unexpected tenderness and starts to push inside you.
Due to the position of your hips and your overall tightness, his first thrust is shallow, but the friction makes you both groan. Pulling out slowly, drawing out the pleasure, he pushes inside again, going slightly deeper. Your eyes roll back in your head. He feels blissful, way past anything you had imagined.
Using your hip to pull your ass against his lap, he starts to move more quickly. With abandon, you throw your arms against the covers above your head, your face falling to one side and breasts jiggling as the snap of his thrusts push you up and down. Also lost in pleasure, his eyes are closed and low groans rumble from his throat.
It doesn't take long for you to climax again, and then again. Your walls clenching tightly around him, each climax earns you a growl, but Belphie shows no signs of giving you mercy. Finally, even though you wish it could last forever, he thrusts deeply within you and you feel his warmth spread into your abdomen.
Completely spent, you lay together in the candlelight, your head on his chest, legs intertwined. Your core aches sweetly. He holds you close. Happier than you've felt in your entire life, you both start to drop off. As you do, you raise your head to look at him, and you see he's already asleep. Full of affection, your chin on his chest, you breathe, "Thank you for granting my wish". Seconds later, fading into darkness you hear him whisper, "I love you, too".
#obey me swd#obey me reader insert#obey me smut#obey me!#obey me#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie#belphie x mc#swd belphie#belphie#swd: obey me#obey me writing#obey me imagines
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Scrambled Eggs
Pairing: yan!Ranboo x reader, Yan!Tommy x reader, Yan! tubbo x reader, Yan!Purpled x reader
Request: I raise you: Hnfnnnnnnnnnn more Yandere minors but this time you're with the eggpire already (not on purpose but you get the idea)
Word count: 3k
Warning: yandere, the egg, obsession, cult (egg), kidnapping, cursing
A/n: this is all platonic. Nothing romantic. also oop this went a lot longer than i thought it would- I got really into it. Also uploaded this and didn't proof read it. I know there's at least one mistake in there- sorry in advance.
Ranboo
When this poor lad finds out you’re currently in the Egg’s clutches, he was shocked. Oh my gosh, didn’t you love him? Did you actually love him? If you really loved him, you wouldn’t have let the Egg gain control of you. That’s how “the power of love” works. Right?
He’ll go to you, begging and doing his absolute best to reason with you. In all honesty, trying to reason with you was as productive as asking Santa Clause for that new ferrari model-
But that didn’t stop him. He was too far to properly think things through. Now why don’t you come home with him? It’s not safe for you. This “Egg” doesn’t actually care for you. He cares for you though- You end up chasing him off, saying that you were happier with the Egg than anytime you were with him. Oh how the Egg has brainwashed you. It’s so bad for you, can’t you see? He’ll go through the cycle of attempting to save you a few times before it becomes too much for him.
Eventually he just goes to Phil, ranting about how you were controlled by the Egg now and he was scared for your safety. Oh god Phil what can he do to save you? Phil please help him, give him some guidance- anything! And after Phil? Well, he’d pray to any deity that’d listen. Only asking them to save you from your current plight. You weren’t safe and he loved you so much, he can’t lose you too.
Phil tires of this cycle very quickly. It’s pathetic how much Ranboo is upset by your situation. But he’s your friend and he cares for you so much; you’re a constant in his life. How can he not love you? So he’ll just give in during one of Ranboo’s pleading stages, saying that he’ll help Ranboo rescue you- which makes Ranboo very pleased. If it was this easy to end this toxic cycle, he would’ve done it ages ago.
They plan your rescue for weeks, almost a few months. Everything had to be absolutely perfect; any flaw that could allow the Egg to repossess you needed to be resolved. As time passed, Ranboo grew more anxious. He kept visiting you during the planning process, just to keep an eye on you. Make sure you were safe.
When the plan was finally put into motion, his anxiety grew more. What if there was something that they miss? Something they didn’t account for? Phil had to remind Ranboo, multiple times, that you needed him. And he was here to save you. Ranboo couldn’t afford the time to hesitate, he had to take action. Plus if something went wrong, they always had Techno to fall back on. This got Ranboo back in the mindset, ready to save you again.
Something that was unavoidable was physical conflict. A fight started between the eggpire and the rescuers. It was rather rough and unfortunate that you got involved. You were fighting against them, rather fiercely as well. Leaving you mostly unharmed was nearly impossible when you were so determined to have their heads. But they managed. And they succeeded; they defeated/subdued the eggpire, you came out with only a few scratches and they got you away from the egg. All in a day’s work.
Once they got you “home” (specifically Phil’s house since it was far from the Egg and provided the most on-site protection), they started the recovery process. They had to restrain you to the bed, tying you up so no harm could come to you or them. Another unfortunate thing, but a necessity.
You were feral, thrashing around and snarling. Demanding that they release you. You had to get back to the Egg, the Egg needed you and you needed it. Though time passes with no change and you eventually tire, finally being subdued from exhaustion. Ranboo volunteers to keep an eye on you once you’re deemed “stable” (as in “not trying to actively leave”).
Phil is Reluctant to leave you in Ranboo’s care, but he was tired. The day had been long and rather draining. But Ranboo seemed so eager to help you, stay with you. So he, although reluctant to do so, leaves you in the care of Ranboo. They agreed to work in shifts before he left.
As he leaves, he gives you two a final look. Ranboo moves his chair closer to you, learning in and starts to talk to you. Honestly, Phil could care less about what conversation you two were having. He was only there to rescue you. There weren’t any ties between you two besides Ranboo, a common connection. All that mattered was you getting cured, out of the Egg’s clutches.
Tommy
This boy? When he’s told the Egg has you in its possession, he vehemently denies it. There’s absolutely no way it could’ve gotten you. I mean do they realize who they’re talking about? They’re talking about you- one of the strongest people on the smp!
Though a small part of him doubts that. Whispers that yes, you’re strong. But not strong enough to protect you from a danger like the Egg.
There’s absolutely no possibility that you were taken by the Egg. I mean come on, as mentioned above, you’re hella strong. You fought in so many wars and never fell for any of Dream’s lies. The last one is mostly why he believes the Egg doesn’t have you. If you can defy Dream’s manipulation, then the Egg should be no different. Right?
And so many people didn’t like him, so this had to be a joke. It was laughable, unbelievable. They thought they could get him so easily? Oh how wrong they were. Here, he can easily prove them wrong. Prove that it’s a prank. Mostly needs to prove it to himself though.
So when he walks around the smp, he keeps an eye out for you. He does it everywhere and eventually wanders to areas less frequented by him. That’s the level of “delusional” he’s at; you’re just hiding somewhere, far from him. This is a mean prank you’re pulling and very effective if the wanted product was a panicked Tommy.
Finally throws in the towel when he can’t find you anywhere after a week. He asked everyone on the smp for your location and got one of two answers; they either haven’t seen you or they saw you in the Badlands, near the Egg’s domain.
Now he wasn’t scared to go into the Badlands to look for you. Oh absolutely not! He was, in fact, absolutely terrified of the Egg. His reasoning for not going there boiled down to “the Egg doesn’t like him and wants him dead” and “there’s no way the egg got them”.
Enough time passes and he finally starts to accept the idea that the Egg may actually have you. When the thought pops up to look for you in the Badlands, he doesn’t question or fight it like before. Now accepting it with open arms, he heads to the Badlands. His worst fear will be laid to rest. You won’t be there.
Oh how wrong he was. When he gets closer to the Egg’s lair, he finally catches sight of you. It’d been weeks since he last saw you, and was ecstatic when he found you. A closer, more in depth look decimated any joy he had.
You were definitely a part of the eggpire with the signature red iris that obscured your natural eye color from the light. And it was also obvious that it was working you to death. Your body looked so much weaker than it ever had, besides grave injuries. Absolutely drained of all, fucking demented, lifeless were just a few things to describe your current state. It was so hard to look at. He knew he had to save you because the Egg was slowly killing you.
He executed the best plan he could conjure up in that little pea-brain of his; he’d “kidnap” you. A very simple plan, in all actuality. When the other eggpire members were away from you, he’d lure you away with just his presence. The Egg absolutely despised him, he was well aware of that. That’s why you were most likely chasing him, but he liked to believe you were coming with him willingly. Breaking from the Egg’s control.
Okay so he hadn’t planned on where he’d take you- BUT he did know you had to be taken far, far away. Far from the smp and especially the Egg. He’ll stop when he believes you’re too far from the Egg’s influence. A place you can finally rest and break free from the Egg. After that? Well it was obvious; he’d do everything in his fucking power to ensure that the Egg could never get ahold of, control or bother you again.
Tying you to the bedpost should be sufficient for now, right? Oh don’t worry about the long chain on it. It’s long enough for you to get into the bathroom and get business done. He’s a really considerate guy, huh? It’s only there to prevent you from running back to the Egg, he swears.
And look! You’re slowly becoming yourself again. It’s happening slowly, but Tommy can see the progress that’s already being made. And that makes him overjoyed.
Tubbo
The news of your disappearance couldn’t have come at a worse time. He had been told about one of the nukes being stolen and then the news that you were kidnapped right under his nose? Absolutely worse. All he felt was absolute rage and despair. First the nuke and now you? How could this get worse!
Finding out how you were taken can, apparently. Jack recounted how he last saw you with Bad. But it wasn’t like “oh they’re just chillin like homies”. No, it was about how Bad was carrying you to… somewhere. It was unclear where they went. Rather unfortunate how Jack had to deliver the news of two horrendous incidents at the same time.
Tubbo wanted to scold Jack for not stopping Bad, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t Jack’s fault. Well it was but wasn’t all at the same time. Telling Jack how he fucked up severely wouldn’t help the situation, and neither would yelling or any other destructive form of anger. Keeping his cool was his best option to solve the current crises.
He gets to work on solving both issues asap. Jack volunteers to find the missing nuke which left Tubbo to find you. Jack taking up the nuke issue was a blessing; he’d rather have Jack find the nuke than risk your safety.
Now since he’s left to look for you, he needs a plan to locate you. His best option? Getting help from the other residents, of course! They were more than happy to assist Tubbo. All of them get told the same story; the recount that Jack told Tubbo of the last appearance you made.
It isn’t long into the search before results were made. Puffy came back with your location. Your situation was less than favorable. Adding you being in the Badlands and so close to where the Egg laid, it was all clear. It appeared that you were under the Egg’s thumb. After all, if a friend calls out to you, a normal person wouldn’t just ignore them. And Puffy said she wasn’t too far away from you when she yelled for you. So something was obviously wrong.
Tubbo decides to give the Badlands a little visit. To give his own input on the situation, if you’d call it that. In all honesty, it was just to see you and see if the tales were true. Sadly, they were.
The next best thing would be to plan an escape for you. So the first attempt is him just trying to get you to leave on your own accord. And that plan was unsuccessful, which was less than surprising. Then he tries to physically drag you back. A hilarious sight, but another plan that was doomed to fail from the beginning. As a last resort, for that visit, he pulls out the puppy dog eyes and alligator tears. You were unfazed by his tactics. There go his immediate plans of freeing you.
Eventually you tire of his behavior and chase him away. You spare him some last words before you part ways though. “I don’t need to leave the Egg. I’m perfectly fine, so just leave me alone”.
That really made him upset, but he wasn’t going to give up on you just like that. No, you were his best friend. Best friends don’t give up on each other so easily. They stick with each other and get the other out of a nasty situation. And this was one nasty situation you got pulled into.
When he gets back, he relays all of the discoveries to the others. It was undeniable, unanimous; you had to be rescued. As they all talked it over, a smile grew on Tubbo’s face. Tubbo’s change in mood was dismissed easily; he was just excited to get his friend back. They weren’t half wrong with that.
Tubbo was more happy that it’d be easier to contain you. He could easily get you where he wanted you and keep you there under the pretense of “keeping you there for your safety”. And all he’d have to do is volunteer to care for you…
Purpled
Surprisingly, he meets you through the Egg. Well, properly meet you. Originally, he joined for the money. Some of the eggpire members were rather wealthy and paid handsomely for his services.
So to elaborate on how he “knew” you. He first found you when you first appeared on the smp. Being toured around by Dream. So logically he goes up to greet the new member. You want to make good impressions on people as soon as you can.
You two only exchange names before Dream starts to shoo Purpled off. Dream gives the excuse that you were his friend. Not Purpled’s. His. He didn’t know you well and this was his server, so he’d obviously give the best tour of it. Plus you two were also catching up on things you two had done.
Dream’s behavior peeved you. He was being rather rude to this stranger and rather irresponsible. If he was trying to seem good, he was doing a poor job of conveying that.
You argued with Dream to allow this other person to come along with y’all. The argument doesn’t last long before Dream finally shoots it down and pulls you away for the rest of the tour.
Purpled was awed, felt so loved. You argued back at Dream of all people, and just for him. To defend him and let you come along with him. God you must be an angel in disguise, a true treasure. People as gracious as you are hard to come by nowadays.
After that, he does his best to become your friend. He does all the research on you that he can and watches your behaviors. Noting what you like and what you do throughout the day. Just the normal stuff, ya’know.
Without you knowing it, you had become such a precious thing to him. You’d become his best friend. Yes you two didn’t talk often at all, but you two were still friends. After all, he knew everything about you. Your favorite color, your favorite place to hang out, which genre of books you like, what muffin you get at Niki’s bakery, how you like your tea and coffee. Just the normal stuff a best friend would need to know.
Also collected things of yours. Things you came in contact with. If you left them, that meant you didn’t want them. And if you didn’t want them anymore, then they were free for the taking. This was all obvious stuff.
Another surprising thing; he became too busy with the egg to even notice your disappearance. With how much he was around you, he would’ve noticed you go missing within seconds. Yet he wasn’t around to keep you safe, now was he? No he wasn’t. He was away collecting some of the dumbest things for the egg.
He was rather annoyed when he was told of the soon-to-be new member of the eggpire. Great, another egg freak he’d have to deal with. Right now, he could really use a pick-me-up. Visiting you wouldn’t hurt- apparently it can because he was almost immediately put to work after being told the news.
After prepping for the initiation process, he was more than peeved. It’d been weeks since he last saw you. It was some of the worst weeks of his life. All he needed right now was you- oh boy.
Well he wishes were granted because there you were, being inducted into the egg cult. Man he should’ve been a bit more careful on what he wished for, but whatever. You were here now. Once it’s all over, he goes to properly greet you as an eggpire member and tours you around. So since you like the egg and he likes the egg, you wanna keep talking?
Will do everything in his power to keep you under the Egg’s control. If anybody comes in hopes of rescuing you, they’d have to deal with Purpled first. They’d usually never get past him, defeated by his hand and sent away.
It was in “your” best interest to stay with the egg. Really it was his, but you believed it too.
Those egg-cult freaks kept preaching about how the Egg would give people anything they asked or craved. Now that you were here, Purpled supposed it was true. After all, you were what he wanted after all. He is best friend by his side forever. What else could he ask for?
#tw: yandere#tw: cult#tw: obsession#c: ranboo#c: tommy#c: tubbo#c: purpled#dodo writing#ranboo x reader#yandere ranboo x reader#dsmp!ranboo#dsmp!ranboo x reader#tommy x reader#dsmp!tommy#dsmp!tommy x reader#yandere tommy x reader#dsmp x reader#yandere#mcyt x reader#yandere tubbo x reader#tubbo x reader#dsmp!tubbo#dsmp!tubbo x reader#purpled x reader#dsmp!purpled#yandere purpled x reader#dsmp! purpled x reader#tw: kidnapping#tw: cursing#dsmp shipping
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Hello! How are you, and I have a request if you wish to do it. So I was thinking of a College AU with Shinsou working there as a part-time employee, then one day fem! reader comes in and at first he is like “Pfft whatever” but then he brings dropping his tsunade behavior and beings growing soft for her while he got to know her and he has seen her rescue a kitten in which he asked to help co-parent their child. He is doing it to get to know her more because he fell for her, but she is a bit oblivious when it comes to ✨feelings✨. I thought this would make a cute HC/ Drabble, however you wish to do it, of how their relationship began to bloom at the local coffee shop.
AAAAHHHH!!!! YES!
Happy Birthday to Shinsou Hitoshi!💜
The most adorable, handsome, and overall best purple headed boy on the show (Fuck off Mineta).
To Take Care of a Stray: Shinsou Headcanons
Barista! Shinsou x F! Reader
FLUFF
As any college student would tell you, cheap caffeinated drinks were a must.
Coffee specifically was a must.
Shinsou was honestly debating if he needed his 3rd cup of coffee that morning or if he could just wing it and go on with an empty tank.
He procrastinated when it came to his assigned project, plus his project partner ditched him, so he was practically all alone figuring his shit out.
And thats how he found himself working at his local coffee shop.
He hated every single customer that would come in at any hour of the day that he work on.
They all demanded his attention and honestly, some days he wished he could just scream in their faces that "No, i don't give a fuck about your pet bird speaking back to you. I'm only here to make you your coffee and take your money."
The cheap coffee was worth it though, so he keeps the complaining to a minimum.
Retail is honestly a "no reward" type of job. The amount of entitlement that some people have baffles him at times.
Around his second year in college he ends up working the late shift to make some extra cash. It also meant less people coming in and demanding an overly complicated drink. Score!
The sound of the rain pouring down helped calm his nerves and allowed him to relax for moment before the door of the shop swung open.
"Oops, sorry. Didn't mean to do that." The first time you walked into the shop you accidentally pulled the door with too much force that it ended up slamming into the wall.
Shinsou immediately didn't like you.
Who the fuck was this woman?
You went up the counter and told him your order taking out your money and handing it to him.
Clean and simple. Nothing special.
Then you came back again a few days later. That really fucked with him.
Most customers came in and never bothered to talk to him. He wanted their money while they wanted the shitty coffee they sold. Easy, right?
Nope, not with you apparently. You came in and asked about his day, how his studies were going, and if anything interesting happened in the shop.
He would respond with brief answers and immediately ignored you afterwards.
You were just so annoying.
..Ok, maybe not.
You were funny, the way you fumbled and played it off as you being intentional.
The way your mouth would widen into a smile anytime he spoke back to you.
You weren't overly energetic, nor overly happy. You were just nice, nice to him.
He wasn't use to that.
You fascinated him just because you existed and he wanted to learn more about you.
He got his chance on the 5th time you came in.
You usually came in at a specific time, always when there was barely any customers, but today you didnt' show up at all.
He wont admit it but he got concerned and would keep looking at the clock on the wall and back to the door of the coffee shop.
When you finally came in, you had scratches on your hand and on your cheek.
"What the fuck happened to you?" He leaned onto his hand that was placed on the counter top. His body relaxed and only showed boredom.
In reality he was terrified, you had scratches on your hands and red streaks too. Why?
"Oh, i was just- i fell into a bush." You gave him a smile that made his heart flutter and legs go weak.
He was so happy he was leaning on the counter because he hadn't he would have fallen onto the floor.
Your smile just had that affect on him.
"How stupid can you be? Look were your going next time."
"Aww, thanks sir!"
Good mood was gone. He told you not to treat him like your friend, thats not what you both are.
...But he really hated that you took that very literally and didn't bother to at least call him by his last name.
"Hmm." He gave you your usual and answered the questions you had for him that day.
You started to come in 4 times a week and every time you did he would notice new scratches on you.
The scratches weren't that bad, he thought maybe you were one those "adventures" types, but the red marks were concerning him.
When he would ask you about them you always had a different excuse for them.
"My backpacks straps are bit rough."
"I placed my arm wrong on the table"
It was this or that but never a concrete answer.
It was happening every time you came in so something had to be wrong.
He gathered up the little cuarage he had and decided to ask you what you were doing.
"Why do have so many scratches on you?" You werent expecting him to be so blunt but you happily told him to meet you after his shift at the nearby alleyway.
He was suspicious of you but he was also curious, he desperately needed answers because the concern for your wellbeing was getting to be too much for him.
He followed your instructions and walked towards the alleyway you directed him to.
When he turned the corner he saw the most beautiful scene in the world.
You were surrounded by cats...and you were giving them food.
He could die happily then and there.
"W- this is why you show us with scratches all over you!?" You nodded but got up and walked over to a cardboard box that was tucked under a bigger box.
You told him to follow and when he crouched down to see what was in it he saw two huge eyes staring back at him.
"You've been- this little thing is the reason for your scratches?"
"Yep!"
He laughed at you and helped you feed all of the cats.
When the two of you finished up, you picked up the box that the small kitten was tucked in and gave it a pat on the head.
"What are you going to do with the kitten?" Shinsou asked you.
"Well, i wish i could take it with me but i don't think i'd be able to take care of it since i work early in the morning and have classes late at night."
Shinsou's mind started planning.
He really liked you and wanted to be around you more often.
Shit, if he was brutally honest he had a crush on you.
"Well, i have classes early morning while i work at night. So...why don't we co-pa-... i mean co-care for the little guy?" He knows his ears were red, he knows his face was starting to turn red as well.
But he wasn't about to admit that he really wanted you to say "yes".
"Uh, ok. Sure!"
Shinsou was over the moon with this and it was all going so perfectly as well.
The kitten would spend the mornings with you and in the afternoons the two of you would meet up to take care of it together.
You both decided to name the kitten Mieko.
""Beautiful blessing child", thats a cute name! Why do you want to call him that?"
"Because...i want to- y-you idiot. Stop asking so many questions!" You just laughed at him and gave him a pat on the shoulder.
Shinsou melts.
Shinsou would bring the kitten with him to work since his boss had a soft spot for animals.
Imagine how exited he was when you first invited him into your own apartment.
"You have your own place? Color me impressed."
"Thanks Shin." Shinsou blushed a little at the nickname. It had been over a month that you both agreed to take care of the kitten together.
The more time he spent with you the more he fell.
"I hope you like the umm...book." This was another thing that started after the two of you began to co-parent the kitten. He would bring you gifts and act like it meant nothing.
Reality is that he was courting you.
He expected you to make a comment on his gifts but you glossed over them like nothing.
It was getting on his nerves.
"Aah, hey. Do you want to take Mieko out for a walk...again."
"Was that a question or a demand?" You laughed at him
You made it look easy with how much you make him blush.
The more time you both spent with each other, the more Shinsou realized he was truly in love with you and wanted you to be by his side.
But he was facing a problem. You.
You wouldn't pick up on the hints he was dropping on you. His interest on you.
So one day he decides to just tell up upfront if you would like to go on a date with him.
"Hey Shin, do you want to go on a date with me?"
Shinsou. exe has stopped operations
"W-wha-"
"I'm joking buddy! But seriously do you want to go out to eat? I think Mieko would-"
"W-WHaT!? F-fuck no!" That upset you because you thought he might like free lunch.
"You could've just said no." He was losing you, again.
Fuuuuuuuck!!!!!
"N-no wait! What i wanted to say was umm, would you like to go out with me? Like a date! N-not like friends."
You both just stared at each other for a moment, the silence only making the situation worse.
"...Sure."
Mieko, your child, just blinked at the two of you.
"These two ridiculous humans are my parents, great." At least this lead to Shinsou moving in with you and Mieko having a permanent home now.
Double the pats for the two new people in your home, double the purring sounds, double the angry and grouchy cats begging for your attention.
Who wold trade this? You got to cuddle with the two most adorable people in this world.
"I'm not fucking adorable Y/n!"
"Shush Toshi or you're not getting cuddles and kisses."
"....fine."
#shinsou x y/n#shinsou hitoshi#shinsou x reader#shinsou x female reader#bnha shinso x reader#mha shinso x reader#shinso x you#shinsou hcs#mha shinsou#bnha shinsou#mha shinsou hitoshi#bnha shinsou hitoshi#shinsou hitoshi x reader#mha#bnha#mha headcanons#asks
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Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 8)
(chapter 1) (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4) (chapter 5) (chapter 6) (chapter 7)
series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind. you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.
word count: 3.4k
warnings: smut... a minor injury... a motorcycle... a teeny tiny bit of angst?? honestly it's just pretty normal aside from the smut
You actually fell asleep without anything too untoward happening, just kissing and cuddling and whispers that didn't make much sense to each other but still made your heart flutter each time.
Waking up, though, was another story entirely.
"Arăți frumos în timp ce dormi," he mumbled into the crook of your neck, pulling your hips back so you could feel his hard cock against your ass. You hummed and snuggled up closer to him, bathing in his warmth as much as possible.
“I swear I’ve never slept so well in my life,” you mumbled as you reached back to run your hands through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I need you in my bed all the time so I can finally get some rest.”
He smiled against your skin, sucking on that spot just behind your ear that made your eyes roll back in your head. “Il vrei?” he asked huskily, and you didn’t even care what he was asking; when he said it like that, the answer was always ‘yes.’ You nodded happily, biting your lip, as he started to push your panties down and helped you arch your back so he could guide his cock to your entrance.
You still gasped and clutched at the sheets beneath you, you couldn’t help it even if it wasn’t your first time discovering how thick he was. It was just barely painful for one fleeting moment before it faded into that delightful fullness, his strokes long and slow as he sighed against your ear. “Seba,” you whimpered under your breath.
“Sunt mai bun decât el, nu-i așa? Nu te-a futut niciodată atât de bine,” he growled a little, holding you tighter. “Sper că știe. Sper că știe că am făcut dragoste cu tine și că sunt îndrăgostit de tine.”
You couldn’t be sure if it was his words in your ear or his arms so tight around your chest that made it a little hard to breathe, but something was so different about the way he was speaking now than you’d ever heard him before. It was difficult to describe— not quite angry, but so passionate it could almost seem that way. You could feel it in the way he moved inside you, too; he was clearly holding back, like there was a storm beneath his calm surface.
You wanted all of it. Turning back, you kissed him and pulled his hair a little, hoping it would get the point across. It seemed to, considering how he gasped and sped up, fucking you harder and deeper as you moaned a little louder than you meant to.
“Când a fost aici, am vrut să te sărut,” he continued in a low voice, speaking right against your parted lips. “Am vrut ca soțul tău să vadă. Am vrut să te arunc în patul ăsta și să te fac să țipi, pentru ca toată lumea să te audă. Am vrut să știe că sunt eu.”
“Yours,” you said before you could stop yourself, and thankfully you didn’t have to worry too much about the implications of it because he couldn’t understand what you meant. He grabbed your face anyways, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he stared into your eyes.
“A mea,” he purred, fucking you faster until you started to whine and arch your back harder.
“F-fuck, I’m gonna—” you stammered, but he nodded before you could finish, encouraging you with whispered words and a hand slipping down between your legs to rub your swollen clit. You cried out, instinctively reaching out to grab his arm, but he held fast and kept up the pace, sending you tumbling over the edge before you had really prepared yourself for it. Unintentionally, you held your breath for a few moments as it washed over you, the tension releasing finally with a long sigh.
The very moment you began the denouement from your peak, he pulled out and rolled you onto your back, slipping right back in as he slotted his body between your legs. You whimpered and gripped his shoulders, and he got right back to his pace— but this time your body couldn’t take as much of the force and so it began to rock the bed, his headboard slamming into the wall. At first neither of you cared until he glanced up and hissed, “rahat.”
“What?” you asked, sitting up and craning your head around to see he’d clearly damaged the wallpaper there. “Oops,” you giggled, “guess we should take a break and fix that—”
He pushed you back down onto the bed as you yelped, capturing you in a hungry kiss; one arm slipped under your shoulders, holding you tight, while the other reached up so his hand could grip the headboard and hold it still as he started to pound into you again. You moaned weakly and relaxed in his embrace, feeling the bed still rock slightly under you but much more interested in the feeling of his cock slamming right into the most sensitive and overstimulated spots inside your channel.
“Oh god,” you sighed as you couldn’t stop your head from falling back into the pillow, closing your eyes to dodge the way he stared down at you with an intensity that bordered on fury. He moved in to bite at your neck instead, and if you were any more in touch with reality you would’ve complained that you didn’t bring many clothes that would cover his bite marks, but you were much too lost in the sensation he was bringing you for that.
“Atât de bine, atât de bine,” he chanted with a growl, “voi veni… atât de aproape…”
“Yes,” you whimpered, “please, Seba— yes, right there, oh fuck!”
You came again, technically, but it was nothing like the first time— more shallow but less brief, like the pleasure was spread thinner and wider, until you worried your vision would go completely black. He grunted loudly as he filled you, still thrusting roughly with each pump of his release into you, but finally he slowed and sighed, his breaths coming hard and fast as he let go of the headboard and held you tightly.
He seemed exhausted, honestly, and you laughed breathlessly as he collapsed on top of you. “You can’t be so worn out this early in the morning,” you scolded as you kissed his shoulder.
“Nu voi mai părăsi niciodată acest pat,” he groaned.
“At least let me up so I can shower!” you protested, trying to push his limp weight off of you and failing pitifully as you laughed.
“Nu, nici tu nu vei părăsi niciodată acest pat,” he cooed, covering your face in kisses as you laughed harder. Only when you defensively pinched his arm did he pull back and pull out, letting you slip out from under him.
“I’ll be back soon,” you promised as kissed him on the cheek, dashing to the bathroom and getting one last glance at him shaking out his sore hand before you shut the door.
Chapter 38 done… only five more to go, if your outline was to be trusted (which it most certainly should not). Still, you were finally reaching the real height of the tension, the climax of the story likely to hit as soon as the next chapter.
But it wasn’t what you were expecting. It wasn’t what you thought you would write when you sat down here months ago and began with page 1. In fact, it was better.
You sighed a little, looking away from the typewriter for the first time in maybe an hour or more, glancing out the window where the sun was starting to set and painting the whole countryside in an orange glow; but it wasn’t the only thing making the leaves change colors— fall was undeniably on the way, enough so that poor Sebastian was raking leaves already. And, because evil is a real and powerful force in this world, he had started wearing a shirt while working outside.
Not that it wasn’t still buckets of fun to watch him go: you found yourself leaning against the window frame to drink in the sight of him, smiling widely to yourself as he sighed and wiped his brow.
All of a sudden, he turned and caught you ogling, making him grin and you laugh with embarrassment. He waved at you, and you waved back, resigning to getting back to work for just a few more pages…
The creaking of the stairs made you realize someone was coming, but with Sebastian just outside it could only be Mrs. Alberti. With a sinking feeling in your gut, you ran to the closet to rifle through your sweaters, hoping to find something with a high neck. Nothing looked long enough, making you groan in frustration.
She knocked on the door and you jumped slightly. “One moment!” you called out to her, digging up a random scarf and throwing it around your neck to hastily cover the bruises Sebastian had left on you. “Yes, come in,” you finally sighed with relief as you threw yourself back into the chair.
“Good evening,” Mrs. Alberti smiled sweetly as she peeked through the crack in the door, “I just wanted to offer to cook dinner here tonight. I’m making a big recipe so I figured I might as well, unless you had your own plans.”
“No, that would be lovely,” you nodded, “thank you.”
“Just come downstairs in about, oh, fifteen minutes and it’ll be ready,” she explained.
“You don’t want any help in the kitchen?”
She scoffed a little. “From you?”
You chuckled at her brutal honesty. “Okay, point taken.”
“Sorry, dear, it’s just that I wouldn’t want your… Western sensibilities to muck up the recipe,” she defended.
“I can’t blame you,” you smirked. “I’ll be down in a quarter hour.”
She nodded and shut the door again, leaving you to unwrap the itchy scarf from your neck and let out a slow breath.
Of course, with an imminent deadline you couldn’t actually get any good work done, so you just read back over some older chapters and made a couple simple edits. All too soon, you checked the clock and realized you should go ahead and make your way to the kitchen.
You took a deep breath as you stepped into the entryway where the smell of Mrs. Alberti’s cooking emanated through the rest of the house. It brought back memories of when you were here with Michael and she cooked for the both of you. Those memories were wonderful once, then soured, but now you were coming to appreciate them again. Although, it was easier to enjoy them when you imagined the black eye your soon-to-be-ex was likely sporting now.
You took a seat at the table and let her serve you, even though it made you feel a little guilty; you knew she would never let you serve yourself when she was cooking.
“How’s your novel coming along, dear?” she asked as she took her own seat and you began eating.
“Well,” you began with a little sigh, “stories have a mind of their own, Mrs. Alberti. All this time I thought I was writing a thriller— something scary, gritty, maybe even tragic. But I’m coming up on the end of it and I’m realizing that all this time, I’ve been writing a romance.”
She smiled, glancing behind you to the doorway. “Yes, things have a funny way of turning out differently than we expect.”
Wondering what she was looking at, you turned to find Sebastian leaning against the wood frame, wiping his hands on a towel. “Bună seara,” he greeted.
“Sit down, Sebastian, have some dinner,” she offered to him as she stood up to pour him a new portion of soup.
He nodded and sat at the table, “multumesc,” he mumbled when she put a bowl in front of him.
You fell into a comfortable silence after that, everyone eating their meals quietly. It was nice to have a moment of normalcy— your new normal— after such an eventful day previous.
“So,” Mrs. Alberti broke the silence unexpectedly, “you two had sex?”
You instantly spat out your sip of soup, making Sebastian give you a concerned look; you waved dismissively as if to say you were fine, though you coughed a couple times. “I… uhm— how did you—?”
“He was whistling while he gardened today,” she explained, “and you look the happiest I’ve ever seen you.”
“To be fair, I think the first thing is because he punched my husband yesterday morning,” you added with a little laugh.
“And the second thing?”
“...at least partially because he punched my husband yesterday morning,” you admitted.
“Fair enough,” she chuckled, “but don’t think I don’t see the way your shoulders aren’t so tense and you’re smiling all the time. I know a woman in love when I see one.”
“L-love?” you questioned instantly, choking on the word.
“Oh, honey,” she sighed, almost a look of pity on her face, “did you not know? It’s all over your face.”
You took a slow breath and pondered your meal before taking another bite. “No… I knew,” you admitted, “I guess you just put it really bluntly.”
She smiled. “It’s how we do things in Hungary. You should be honest with him.”
“With what words?”
“Sounds like you don’t need them,” she smirked. “I’ll leave you two be, then. You’ll have to tell me how it goes.”
She bid Sebastian goodnight with a little wave, and he nodded back happily; with the back door shut as she headed to her own house, you two were alone again. He took a sip of his soup and you finally noticed the marks on his spoon-holding hand.
“Your hand…” you realized, pointing to it, remembering with burning cheeks how he got that injury.
“Ah,” he smiled, looking down at the purple knuckles and smiling as he rubbed them gently. “Un sacrificiu demn.”
After dinner, you picked up with some reading (so much more relaxing than writing, believe it or not) and Sebastian joined you for the same on the couch.
Just laying together like this— quiet, relaxed, and totally at peace— was igniting feelings inside you that you had gone without for so long that you’d forgotten they existed completely. Resting your head on his chest, between the unbuttoned halves of his shirt, you could hear his heartbeat and it was soothing yet invigorating somehow.
He held his book up over your head while you used one hand to hold yours open and read through the space between his chest and his arm. It wasn’t the most ergonomic position necessarily, and your arm was definitely getting tired, but it was worth it to be close to him in these little ways.
"Book?" he asked innocently after a long stint of silent reading, setting his own aside to look down at you.
You closed your book and looked back up at him, resting your chin on his chest. "The book I'm reading? It's good," you nodded (as much as you could without stabbing him in the sternum with your chin, that is).
"Nu, book ta," he clarified, poking your forehead, before making a motion like he was typing.
"My book!" you realized. "Yes, the book I'm writing, it's nearly done…"
Your heart started to sink inside your chest.
"And when it's done, I'll go back to London. Like I planned from the beginning. And it'll be published and I'll start from scratch at a new life… alone.”
You cleared your throat and looked away. “Ești în regulă?” he asked quietly, sounding concerned.
You shook yourself out of it, smiling back up at him. “Let’s go into the city tomorrow,” you decided. “I need some things, if I’m going to be staying longer…”
He seemed to appreciate that you were telling him something, but couldn’t determine what. “Nyíregyháza,” you explained, “let’s drive into the city.” You pantomimed a steering wheel to explain yourself better.
“Ah,” he nodded, “nu într-o mașină. Îmi luăm bicicleta.” He returned with the motion of steering a bike— and when he curled his fingers to rev the proverbial engine, you realized he meant a motorbike. “Motocicletă,” he smiled.
“You drive a motorcycle?” you realized with a little gasp.
“Da,” he grinned, a little more mischievous than before.
“Oh, you really are gonna be the death of me,” you laughed. “Let’s go see this bike of yours.”
He helped you up off the couch and escorted you to the shed across from the house, the last light of sunset just barely enough to illuminate the way. You knew he worked in here sometimes, but you never realized he was doing mechanic work— indeed there it was: a motorcycle, right by Mrs. Alberti’s car, clearly quite old but restored to decent condition. “Iată-o, fetița mea,” he announced as he raised his arms to present it to you.
“Wow, you’ve been working hard,” you realized as you looked around at all the parts and tools strewn about.
“Avea nevoie de un alternator nou și ceva de lucru în interiorul motorului, dar acum funcționează la fel de bine ca nou... dacă nu chiar mai bine,” he enumerated as he knelt down in front of it, grabbing a towel to rub a spot of dirt from the headlight. “Vrei să conduci acum?”
You tilted your head.
“Acum,” he repeated, standing up and pulling you closer, tilting his head back toward the bike. “Sa mergem acum.”
“You want to go for a drive now? It’s pretty late, I was about to go to bed,” you protested meekly.
“Haide,” he smiled, stepping back and pulling you with him. “Plimbare pe spate.”
He handed you a helmet that had been resting on one of the handlebars, and you dutifully put it on as he got on the bike and fiddled around with it for a moment, kicking out the kickstand and finding his balance before getting it to start with a roar that echoed around the shed. He beamed proudly, looking up at you. “Eh?” he prompted with a nod.
“Yeah, it sounds great,” you encouraged with a thumbs up.
“Ce mai face casca?” he asked, leaning forward to knock his fist on your helmet lightly, making you laugh.
“Yeah, it’s good,” you nodded.
“Atunci alătură-te mie,” he instructed as he patted the seat behind him. You took a quick breath and got on, wrapping your arms around him. “Mai strâns,” he mumbled, pulling your arms in to hold him tighter. You smiled and rested your head on his back, yelping slightly when the bike lurched forward and he steered you out of the shed and into the grass outside. He was very slow at first until he steered to the gravel road, at which point he instantly picked up speed until the wind whipped at your face. His unbuttoned shirt was flying in every direction, leaving him totally unprotected from the night air, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding fast as he took you down the road, hugging the turns letting the headlight illuminate only as much as he needed to see.
When you looked up, you could see the stars more clearly than ever. You sighed and hugged him tighter, amazed at how they didn’t move at all while the world on the ground flew by. It made sense, obviously, with them being millions of miles away, but it was jarring how different the speed of the world could look from different perspectives. And as exhilarating as it was to see the countryside roll by in a blur, you preferred the steady night sky; you didn’t want to think about this moment flying by, about the fleeting nature of all of this. You wanted to believe this would always be here, just like the stars. You wanted to focus on the things that would never leave you, the moments that would become lifelong memories, and not on the reality of how beautiful things are not usually permanent things.
“I love you,” you whispered against his ear, quiet enough for your words to be blown away into the night. A small tear left a hot trail on your chilled skin, blown back over your temple instantly by Sebastian’s acceleration.
In silence, you drove into the unknown with him, letting yourself forget about the rest of the world for just a little while longer. You deserved that.
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