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cheynovak · 4 months ago

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Tell me what it takes

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character

Summary: REQUEST: Dean realizes after a near-death experience that he has nothing if Y/N isn’t in his life. He searches for her and finds her living in Lawrence, Kansas. When he shows up at her door, she’s shocked but lets him in. Dean struggles with small talk before finally confessing realized he needed her.

Warnings: 18+ romance, nothing too explicit, mostly making love, hurt, couple issues, friends to lovers,

English is not my first language

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

The sound of gravel crunching under the Impala’s tires was a familiar comfort as Y/N stared out the window, her mind miles away from the endless Kansas road. She had been living with Dean and Sam for years now.

It had become her life—hunting, saving people, the usual. She had loved Dean for years, they started out as neighbours, friends, but over time, something had shifted between her and Dean, something she wasn’t sure either of them knew how to define.

She and Dean were inseparable, tied together by years of shared grief, laughter, and battles fought side by side. She had helped him take care of baby Sam when their father disappeared on one of his many hunts.

Dean and Y/N had leaned on each other back then, and as the years passed, that connection deepened in a way that was never spoken about, but always felt just right.

Now, though, feeling it wasn’t enough anymore. She needed more, needed to know, hear it he felt the same for her.

They were staying in a rundown motel outside of town for the night, waiting on a lead Sam had tracked down for their next hunt. As soon as they checked in, Sam disappeared to do more research, leaving Y/N and Dean alone in the room they would share.

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her heart heavy as she watched Dean peel off his jacket and toss it over the chair by the window. His movements were as casual as ever, but her mind was racing.

It wasn’t the first time they’d shared a bed, tangled together in moments of passion when the night was too long, and the world seemed too heavy.

They’d kissed, hooked up, and fallen asleep wrapped around each other more times than she could count, Dean had been her first and if it was up to her, also her last. It felt right with him but it always felt… temporary. As if none of it mattered when the morning came.

She couldn’t take it anymore. She knew he cared for her, more than just a one night thing, she noticed he'd stopped sleeping with other girls, he was protective of her and when a man looked at her in a way he didn't like, he held her.

Those are boyfriends trades, right? Than why didn't he ever admitted it to her, or did he made it official?

"Dean," she said quietly, her voice barely louder than a whisper. He glanced over at her, brow furrowing when he saw the expression on her face. “What’s up sweetheart?”

She bit her lip, trying to find the words that had been building up for so long. "We need to talk." Dean stiffened, his jaw tightening slightly. "About what?"

"About us." Her eyes met his, searching for some kind of reassurance, but she found nothing there but his usual guarded expression. "Dean… I need more."

His brow furrowed deeper. "More? What do you mean?"

"I mean… I can’t keep doing this. The kissing, the hooking up, the sharing a bed… It’s not enough anymore. I need to know where we stand. I need to know that this isn’t just some… convenient arrangement for you."

Dean shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. "Y/N, you know I care about you."

"That’s not what I’m asking," she said, her voice wavering. "I need to hear it, Dean. I need to know you... love me, like I love you."

The room fell into an oppressive silence, the only sound the faint hum of the highway outside.

Dean looked away, his face hardening in that familiar way whenever emotions came into play. His defense mechanism.

"Y/N, I…" he started, then shook his head. "I don’t do this type of things. You know that. I’m not good with—"

"With emotions? With feelings?" she cut in, her frustration rising. "I’ve been with you for years, Dean! I know you better than anyone, I never asked for anything, and I’m telling you, begging you, I need to hear you say it. I need to know that this isn’t just… nothing to you."

Dean’s eyes flicked back to hers, and for a moment, she saw something there. Fear. Pain. But then, just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by his usual bravado. He scoffed, shaking his head. "You’re overthinking this, Y/N. You know how I feel. Why do we need to say it?"

"Because I deserve to know!" Her voice cracked, and she stood up from the bed, her chest heaving with pent-up emotion. "I deserve to be more than just the girl you hook up with when you feel like it. I deserve to be loved, Dean. Really loved."

Dean’s eyes flashed, and he stepped toward her, his own frustration boiling over. "I’m doing the best I can, Y/N! This is who I am. You knew that from the beginning. You think I don’t care? I wouldn’t hold you all damn night! I wouldn't kiss you good morning! I wouldn't you know... hold your hand and stuff"

"But you won’t say it," she said softly, her voice breaking. "You won’t say you love me. You only kiss me when no one is around, you only hold me or my hand when you think someone is interested in me. Why is it so hard to tell me, just me Dean, you don't need to shout it of the roof!"

He clenched his fists, his expression hardening once again. "What do you want from me? I can’t just… say it because you want to hear it."

Y/N’s heart shattered at his words, the final nail in the coffin. She had hoped—prayed—that he would give her something, anything. But instead, he was pushing her away.

She took a shaky breath, her eyes filling with unshed tears. "I can’t do this anymore, Dean."

His face paled, his bravado slipping for a moment. "Y/N, don’t act like that, don't —"

"No," she said, her voice firm now, despite the tears threatening to fall. "I can’t keep waiting for you to love me the way I deserve, the way I have loved you since you moved in next door."

"I ran away from home to help you and your dad take care of Sammy. I did anything for you..." a trembling sigh left her "I’m done."

Without another word, she grabbed her bag from the floor and headed for the door. Dean stood frozen in place, his eyes wide with shock, but he didn’t stop her. He didn’t call her back.

As she walked out of the room, the weight of everything hit her at once.

Years of friendship, of love—unspoken and unacknowledged—crashed down around her. She didn’t want to leave him, but she couldn’t keep sacrificing her heart for someone who wasn’t willing to give her theirs in return.

The door clicked shut behind her, and as she stepped into the cool night air, Y/N let the tears fall. She didn’t know where she was going, but anywhere was better than staying in a place where love was always just out of reach.

Inside the motel room, Dean stood alone, staring at the door. His chest ached, his heart pounding in his ears. He wanted to go after her, to pull her back and tell her everything she needed to hear. But the words stuck in his throat, buried beneath years of walls he had built to keep himself from getting hurt.

And so, for the first time in a long time, Dean was alone. Completely, utterly alone, the only thing he truly loved and cared for in this world, beside his brother, just turned her back and walked away.

A year later

The rain fell in steady sheets, drumming against the roof of the Impala as Dean pulled up outside a modest, two-story house on the outskirts of Lawrence, Kansas. It had been almost a year since Y/N walked out of his life, and for most of that time, he’d tried to convince himself he was fine. That he didn’t need her.

But he’d been wrong.

The last hunt had been a brutal reminder of his mortality. He had come inches from death, pinned under the crushing weight of a creature whose claws had torn into him, leaving deep gashes that still ached. In those moments when the world started to blur and his strength began to fade, there had only been one thought in his mind.

Y/N.

He had always pushed people away, afraid of losing them. But in doing so, he had lost the one person who truly mattered. The one person who had seen him, broken and scarred, and stayed anyway.

Dean’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he stared at the house. He didn’t know what he would say, but he knew one thing: he couldn’t leave without trying. He couldn’t lose her again.

With a deep breath, he stepped out of the car, the rain soaking through his jacket as he approached the front door. His heart pounded in his chest as he raised his hand and knocked. Each second that passed felt like an eternity until finally, the door creaked open.

Y/N stood there, her eyes widening in shock. She hadn’t changed much—her hair was a little longer, and there was a hint of weariness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. But she was still Y/N, the woman who had always been a part of his life, whether he’d admitted it or not.

“Dean,” she said, her voice soft but guarded.

He gave her a small, nervous smile, shifting awkwardly. “Hey.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of the past year hanging heavy between them. Finally, Y/N stepped aside, opening the door wider. “You should come in. It’s pouring out there.”

Dean nodded, stepping inside. The house was warm, cozy. A far cry from the cheap motels and the constant chaos of the life they’d once shared. He could see small touches of her everywhere—books stacked on the coffee table, a blanket draped over the arm of the couch. It was a home, something Dean had never been able to give her.

Y/N crossed her arms, leaning against the wall as she watched him. “What are you doing here, Dean?”

He opened his mouth, but the words got stuck. He hadn’t exactly planned this out. He scratched the back of his neck, forcing a half-hearted smile. “I was in the neighborhood?”

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Try again.”

Dean sighed, running a hand down his face. “Okay, fine. I suck at this, you know that. I—” He stopped, his gaze dropping to the floor as he searched for the right words. He wasn’t sure there were any.

Y/N didn’t say anything, just waited. And for the first time in a long time, Dean felt like he needed to be honest. No walls. No bravado.

“I almost died,” he said quietly, lifting his eyes to meet hers.

Her expression softened for a moment, concern flashing across her face. “Dean…”

“No, listen,” he interrupted, his voice firmer now. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About us. About… everything. And for a long time, I didn’t get it. I thought I could just keep doing what I was doing—going through the motions, keeping everyone at arm’s length. But when I was lying there, bleeding out, the only thing I could think about was you. And how I had nothing if you weren’t there.”

Y/N’s lips parted slightly, but she stayed quiet, letting him continue.

“I messed up,” Dean admitted, his voice thick with guilt. “I was so damn scared to say what you needed to hear because… I’ve lost everyone, Y/N. My dad, my mom, even Sam, for a while. I didn’t want to lose you too, so I thought if I didn’t say it—if I didn’t make it real—then maybe you’d stick around. But I was wrong. And I know I don’t deserve it, but… I’m asking for another chance. A real one.”

Y/N’s arms dropped to her sides as she took a slow, steady breath. The silence that followed was almost unbearable, and Dean’s heart pounded in his chest. She was right to make him wait, to make him feel the weight of his actions. He hadn’t just broken her heart—he’d broken their bond. And that wasn’t something that could be fixed with a few words.

But he needed to try.

"You hurt me, Dean," she said, her voice soft but strong. "For years, I was there for you. I gave you everything, and you couldn’t give me the one thing I needed. Do you know how hard it was to leave? To walk away, knowing you’d never say what I wanted to hear?"

Dean swallowed hard, his throat tight. "I know. And I’m sorry. God, I’m so damn sorry. I should’ve told you… I should’ve told you how much...

I love you."

The words hung in the air, thick with the emotion he had been too afraid to show for so long. For a moment, Y/N just stared at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She had waited so long to hear those words, but hearing them now, after everything, wasn’t the easy fix either of them had hoped for.

"Do you mean it?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Or are you just saying it because you’re scared to be alone?"

Dean stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "I mean it. I’ve always meant it. I just… I didn’t know how to say it. But I’m saying it now because it’s true. I love you, Y/N. And I want to be with you. Really be with you. No more half measures. No more running away."

Y/N’s eyes searched his, looking for any sign of hesitation or doubt. She didn’t find any. Slowly, she exhaled, wiping at the tear that had slipped down her cheek.

"I can’t promise it’ll be easy, Dean," she said quietly. "You hurt me. It’s going to take time for me to trust you again."

Dean nodded, his expression serious. "I know. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll wait as long as you need. Just… don’t tell me it’s too late."

Y/N looked at him for a long moment, and then, finally, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them. She didn’t say anything, but the way she leaned into him, resting her head against his chest, told him everything he needed to know.

Dean wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself breathe. He let himself feel.

And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel alone.

He was home.

The warmth of her body pressed against his was like coming home after years of being lost. Y/N lifted her head from his chest, her eyes searching his face. There was something new between them now—vulnerability, raw and unguarded. For the first time, there were no walls between them, no unspoken words hanging in the air.

Dean’s breath hitched as she looked up at him, her lips parting slightly, and without thinking, he leaned in. Their lips met, soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters after everything that had passed between them. But it didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, years of longing and unresolved tension flooding between them like a dam that had finally broken.

His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss grew more urgent. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, needing him the way he had always needed her. The fire between them had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, but now it was consuming them both.

"Y/N," he breathed between kisses, his voice low and husky. "God, I love you."

The words sent a shiver down her spine, but this time, she believed them. There was no hesitation, no fear in his voice. Just truth.

Clothes were shed in a frenzy, their hands tugging and pulling, desperate to feel skin against skin. They stumbled their way to the bedroom, never breaking the kiss, their lips and hands exploring each other like it was the first time all over again.

Dean guided her down onto the bed with a tenderness that took her breath away, his body hovering over hers, his gaze never leaving her. "I should’ve said it sooner," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a wave of heat through her. "I should’ve told you how much you mean to me. How much I love you."

Her breath hitched as his lips moved down her neck, trailing kisses along her collarbone, her hands gripping his shoulders as her body arched into his. "Dean…"

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his hands cupping her face as he kissed her again, slow and deep. Every touch, every kiss, was filled with a quiet intensity that made her heart race. This wasn’t just another night—it was everything they had both been holding back for years.

Dean’s hands roamed her body, gentle but sure, like he was memorizing every inch of her. The way he touched her was different now—there was no rush, no urgency to fill the silence. He wanted to savor this moment, to show her with every caress, every kiss, how much she meant to him. His hands slid down her sides, gripping her hips as he whispered, "I love you," over and over, like a promise.

He entered her slowly, their bodies moving together in perfect sync, the connection between them electric, yet soft and intimate. Each thrust, each movement, was filled with meaning, with the words he hadn’t been able to say before but was now making sure she knew. His forehead pressed against hers, their breaths mingling as their bodies moved together in a slow, sensual rhythm.

"You're everything," he whispered in her ear, his voice ragged with emotion. "Everything I ever needed. I’m never letting you go again."

Y/N’s hands gripped his back, her nails digging into his skin as the pleasure built between them. She could feel every emotion he poured into her, not just with his words, but with the way he touched her, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered. And for the first time, she believed it—she believed him.

Their pace quickened, the room filled with the sounds of their shared passion, their breathing heavy, their bodies entwined as they climbed higher together. Dean’s lips never left her skin, whispering sweet, broken confessions of love and regret, of promises for the future.

When they finally reached the peak, it wasn’t just about the physical release—it was about everything they had been through, everything they had lost and found again. It was raw, and emotional, and when Y/N cried out his name, she knew that this time, things were different. They were whole.

Dean collapsed beside her, pulling her close, his arms wrapping around her as their breathing slowed. His lips brushed against her forehead, and in the quiet aftermath, he whispered again, "I love you."

This time, there were no doubts. No walls.

She looked up at him, her hand resting on his chest as she smiled softly, her heart full in a way it hadn’t been in years. "I love you too, Dean."

And in that moment, lying together in the quiet of the night, they both knew this was the beginning of something real—something they should’ve had all along.

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

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calisources · 9 months ago

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𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒, 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐏𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences were taken from difference media about age gap and age difference relationships, all acceptable relationships within consenting adults with age differences. Please do not use for teenagers or taboo relationships. These have some foul language or suggestive undertones so please beware. You can change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit.

I bet it doesn’t feel like this with that boy of yours, does it?

You’ll never know when I’m going to drag you into the darkness, pumping my cock into one of your tight holes. And you’ll take every inch like a good little girl.

What a tiny life we’d live if we fashioned ourselves to the comforts of others.

I think I'm a little old for that, love.

No, not old. But you're, you know, a man.

Tell me that you've never had anyone else. I want you to pretend.

You show me things I've forgotten.

Sometimes I think you must have seen it all before. That I can't show you anything new.

I like you as you are, he said. Even if you're going to wear me out.

I’m rough with your body sometimes, but I’ll always be gentle with your soul. She bruises far more easily.

This prince is a few years younger than you, and does not have much experience.

I must have forgotten how young you would be, Princess. Has there ever been a sovereign of such tender age?

Who is to say what love is or what it wants to be, the shape it takes, or how quickly it comes on? Love has always made a fool of time.

I don’t feel old. As a matter of fact, sitting here with you makes me feel older, not younger. Nothing is rubbing off.

Mr. Rochester was about forty, and this governess not twenty; and you see, when gentlemen of his age fall in love with girls, they are often like as if they were bewitched.

He's old enough to be your father.

Tonks deserves somebody young and whole.

But she wants you. And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so.

Age is no barrier. It's a limitation you put on your mind.

Age considers; youth ventures.

Age, like distance lends a double charm.

I'm a strong believer that a good relationship can work, whatever the situation.

Love knows no boundaries, not even the ones defined by age.

Don’t let society’s judgment define your love. Follow your heart, despite the age difference.

Most people would be upset they get an old man as their husband.

Do not worry about your age, Ser. The lady pays attention not to age but prowess.

I will not let time choose my lovers for me. I trust my own judgement.

You should look to more prosperous gardens, Your Grace.

I was sixteen years old when you were born.

No doubt you were much my superior in judgement at that period of our lives; but does not the lapse of one-and-twenty years bring our understandings a good deal nearer?

Come, my dear Emma, let us be friends, and say no more about it.

I have seldom seen a face or figure more pleasing to me than hers. But I am a partial old friend.

If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.

We spend more time discussing this matter than being together as a couple. And I believe you are doing it on purpose.

You think my attention is as fickle that I would look elsewhere.

Perhaps it would be you who looks elsewhere. A handsome older man must have youthful maidens at his disposal.

If we were closer in age, it would've been fine.

I have loved you since the moment I helped you with your zipper.

Would it make you feel better if I call you Daddy while you fuck me?

You’ll be a silver fox before 40 at this rate.

Well, it’s definitely your fault. You stress me out. You’re making my hair turn white.

It’s easy to cast opinions when your heart isn’t the one invested.

I hope you love me, because I love you like crazy, and I'm going to want you the rest of my life.

You already know the truth. And I will be by your side, but I am not good for you.

I am tired of others getting to choose who is good for me. You do that quite often, frequently.

You'll keep your name. You'll keep your will. You'll have your own servants to attend you— you will have everything you ask for.

Don't ask me to let you do. Do you understand? Do not ask me.

It might be best for us, for myself, if I found myself useful elsewhere.

I wish you could just slow down so I could catch up to you.

Stamina is not an issue. But rather what others will whisper.

When are you going to get over this? All I did was touch your leg.

Why would it matter if someone saw you saying hello to me?

But it’s nice to be around you. Like I haven’t lost a decade of my life.

I been in love with you since I was six, fool.

I will always belong to you, but I’m afraid there will be others after me. I’m not a young man/woman.

A kiss ... a muse. It is a question, an unlocked door. It is ... elation ... and anguish.

You have treated me better than any young man my age. Why should I go for either of them?

Young men are eager lovers. I prefer my lovers to take their time. I’m sure with men is the same.

You make me feel really safe. i’m not used to that.

You gave an old man purpose again. And that is more than I can ask of you.

I was a child then, with a crush and a dream. As I grew, dreams changed but you remain the one in my dreams.

I have thought about kissing you a lot. What would that make me?

I have more in common with you than men my age.

Do not pretend to think what I think.

More recently, there are rumors she prefers her lovers to be younger. Truth to be told, I don’t blame her.

I will teach you in time, but for now restrain me and have your way with me. I don’t want to think, I just want to feel.

We have never done anything to be ashamed of. You’ve never done anything to be ashamed of.

Personally, I think the difference keeps us interesting in another another.

You can teach me all you wish, and I can learn. I know I can.

There is always a wild side to an innocent face.

You are being too forward right now, my lady. Be careful.

There would be other loves. Even great loves. But she was right, only one remained perfect.

Maybe there are some people you marry and people you love.

Just so you know, you're a natural lover. Your body expresses beautifully what's in your heart.

I have never felt so alive... as when I am in your arms.

A 5 to 7 relationship is a relationship outside of marriage.

You're older than I am, you're wiser I'm sure and you've seen much more of the world.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #age gap meme #age difference meme

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fatkish · 3 months ago

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Hii!! If it's alright, Can I request a Muzan x Reader, Sfw, where the reader is chubby and quite insecure about her body so she pressures herself to improve herself in not only appearance and weight but in skills because she sees him as the perfect being that he is. But the pressure comes to point it's hurting herself?

Muzan x Chubby Fem Reader

You don’t really know when it started, this fixation on needing to be ‘perfect’. Perhaps it was ever since you met your current romantic partner, Muzan. Now you’re not blaming him for your current situation with yourself. It’s just hard to believe that someone as perfect and beautiful as him would ever truly love someone like you. That’s what you believe. You’re not what anyone would define as skinny, you definitely wouldn’t be able to win any beauty contest. And it’s not like you have some amazing phenomenal skill that draws attention away from your physical appearance or makes up for it.

Despite everything, you can’t help but compare yourself to Muzan. So much so, that you’ve started to eat less and less. You made smaller portions for your meals. And then you started to have less meals. You also began to workout. Jogging in place, doing pushups, anything that could possibly help you lose weight. But nothing worked. You tried your hand at various different crafts like sewing, tailoring, ceramics, etc. but each thing you tried was a flop and ended up in some kind of mess or failure. Not only were you essentially useless, you were fat. That’s what you told yourself day in and day out.

Muzan would often times be away for ‘business’, you both knew that you knew he was a demon. That’s why it never bothered you when he was away. You understood that more than likely he was away doing demon related things during his ‘business’ trips. You knew that he ate people and you were fine with it. He was astonished when you explained to him that you viewed demons as humanity’s natural predators. You explained how predator and prey relationships work in an environment and how you believe that demons are a necessary part of life, keeping the human population under control and keeping it from becoming overpopulated.

Maybe it was your peculiar way of thinking that made Muzan interested in you. But why he still is interested, you wouldn’t know. When Muzan is away, that’s when you would workout and rarely eat. He of course would send you messages via his third upper moon Akaza, telling you when he would be back or such. You had been working so hard and eating so little that it started to have adverse effects on you. You were often tired but you figured it was just that your body was getting used to the exercise. You had no idea how badly your body was being affected.

It wasn’t until Muzan came back one night and witnessed you fainting. He quickly caught your body and set your body down on your futon. Knowing medicine, the man quickly began to examine your passed out self. When you woke, you were met with those beautiful red eyes staring at you. Muzan was seated next to your futon, a book in his hand as he read, and a bowl of water next to him. You felt a damp rag on your forehead and realized you must have a fever. Muzan shut the book rather loudly and drew your attention to him.

“My dear, would you like to explain to me why you’re so fatigued and managed to catch a fever. I do believe I have explained to you how that body works and how to prevent getting sick.” Muzan spoke in a stern tone.

You clutched your blanket in your hands as you looked down at your lap. You nervously bit your lip as the love of your life, the most perfect being, stared at you awaiting your answer. Your face felt warm and your vision grew blurry as your eyes welled with tears. As the tears fell and landed in your lap, you closed your eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Muzan gently grabbed your chin and turned your head to look at him.

“Look at me” he said. You looked into his eyes as he gently wiped away your tears.

“Now, now, what’s with the waterworks my dear?” He spoke in that velvety voice of his.

You bit your lip as you thought about your fears and insecurities. You wanted to lie and say you were fine, but you knew that Muzan would easily see through any lie you told. So you told him the truth. You confessed to him about how little you’ve been eating and how hard you’ve been working your body. You told him about how you’ve grown insecure about your body and the thoughts that run through your head. As you confessed to him, he sat there and listened intently and gently rubbed your back. As you finished, he held a handkerchief out to you to wipe your eyes with.

After wiping your eyes, Muzan helped you lay back down and replaced the damp rag with a new one.

“My dear, you could have killed yourself, starving yourself and working yourself so hard paired with the little sleep made yourself the perfect target for illness. Your immune system was weakened considerably, making it easy for you to get sick. While I am flattered that you think me to be the perfect being, I cannot allow you to continue with this. Once you’re healthy, I will help you try to find a way to help you lose weight without hurting yourself. But no more of this foolishness, do you understand?” Muzan chided.

You nodded and closed your eyes as your tiredness took over.

“Get some rest love.” Muzan softly spoke as he continued to read.

#muzan x reader #demon slayer muzan #muzan kibutsuji #kimetsu no yaiba muzan

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

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Follow You Anywhere 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: still sick but still craving dick.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You drain the glass of water and cling to it. You’re at a loss of what to do next. You’re not just trapped by this man, you’re bound up in fear. It’s a real life horror movie.

You stand and blink long and hard, trying to steady yourself. You turn, your legs stiff and straight, your movement slow as if walking through sludge. You stop and sway as you find Sy watching you from the doorway.

No wonder you never noticed him before. He’s so quiet, you didn’t even know he was still in the room. Well, he is a soldier after all. That fact chills you more than anything. Even if you were more formidable, you still wouldn’t have a hope.

He wears only a pair of thin gym shorts, low on his hips and displaying his thick stomach. He’s not really fat, just burly. He’s got hair fron chest to waistline, his stomach boxy with muscle but not perfectly defined. His arms are hug and bulge without flexing.

You gulp and look down at the empty glass and walk forward.

“I can get that, sweetie,” he offers as you come close.

“No, it’s okay,” you murmur, “I gotta... finish up a few things anyhow.”

He doesn’t move. His large body blocks the exit and you poke your tongue out to wet your dry lips. His eyes narrow on your mouth and he releases a heavy exhale.

“Excuse me,” you voice quavers, “I’m just tryna... get past.”

“Sweetie, you sound tired, maybe you should lay down,” he reaches for you and you flinch. You see him hesitate before he closes the gap, rubbing your arm with his large hand. “Hm, I could rub your feet, we could talk. We got a lot of catching up to do.”

“I... M-maybe later, this project is a big one,” you lie. It’s really nothing. A sixty-dollar edit you could do in your sleep. “It’s a bit early, anyway, right?”

His hand lingers as he looks down at you. His thick fingertips flutter up your shoulder and along your neck. He turns his knuckles to graze your throat before he frames your chin.

“You’re much prettier in person, you know that?” He purrs, “especially when you smile.”

Your lip quivers as goosebumps raise on the back of your arms, “thanks, Sy. Um, sorry, can I get through?”

He rubs your jaw with his thumb and tilts his head. Finally he drops his hand and sighs, smacking the side of his leg as he backs up, angling to offer just enough room for your escape. As you step out, you can’t help but brush against him.

“Mmm,” he hums, “you smell like flowers.”

You grip the glass even tighter, “thanks.”

“Everything about you is just so...” he trails after you, right at your heels, “perfect.”

You don’t know what to say to that. It’s a sweet compliment but it really doesn’t feel like it. He follows you to the kitchen, once more planting himself in the doorway, his hand on the frame as he watches you. You cough and rinse the glass, leaving it beside the sink.

You face him again and wring your hands. As you near, he moves without being told. You skirt around him and sit at the table. You try not to shake as you open the laptop. You pause but resist the urge to look around. Where’s your phone?

You do your best to bottle up every thought. You don't want him to sense your panic. You need to stay calm until a chance comes up. You don’t know what or when, but it has to.

You click onto Adobe Suite and reload the same project as before. He just stands there, by the wall. You're too nervous to check if he’s looking at you.

You hear a peculiar tapping and Aika slithers past her owner. As she approaches, you swallow and brace yourself. She sits beside you and puts her head in your lap. You gape down, in relief and surprise, and daintily touch her head.

“She likes you a lot,” he beams and walks around the other side of the table. He drags a chair out and sits, “I told her all about you. She was over there too. Sniffin’ out IEDs.”

“Oh,” you glance at him over the laptop. “Wow.”

A pang stabs your chest. For a moment, you feel bad for him. You can’t begin to imagine what he saw in a war. You presume being far from home is never easy but that’s all so much more intense.

“Yeah, tough, but we made it through,” he proclaims, “easier to get on when you got something to come home to.”

You nod and look at the screen. This is all sorts of messed up. How stupid are you? Why couldn’t you just keep a journal? Why did you have to stream your stupid life to the stupid internet? You just assumed that no one would care. Like usual.

You drag your fingers around the touch pad, trying to focus on the actual work. That's the only real escape you have. You need to think about anything else.

“I thought... I thought you made your money from your videos,” he says as pushes his shoulders back, his figure broader than the chair.

“Mm, no. Um, you know, not many viewers. I edit for other people. Pictures, videos,” you answer. It’s easier to talk when you keep it clinical. “Weddings, stuff like that.”

“Ah,” he sniffs, “well, not about how many followers you got, just that they’re good people, huh?”

“Sure, uh, yeah,” you sputter.

“You okay, sweetie?” His tone sharpens.

“Sorry, I'm just... working,” your lip twitches. “You know, I just... wasn’t expecting... you. I usually work um, between videos, and I didn’t plan on doing anymore today.”

“Huh,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek, “but you usually do one. One early, one late.”

You shift and Aika nuzzles your thighs, huffing until your pet her again. You bite the inside of your lip as your face singes, “right, but I’m a little behind...”

He’s quiet. You feel him staring. He probably can see right through your lies.

“You’re a hard worker, sweetie, I woulda guessed so,” he stands and the chair scrapes loudly, making you wince, “let me get outta your way. I can wait a bit longer.”

You don’t look up as his shadows blurs along the edge of your vision. You wait until it fades away before you dare to peek. The TV comes back to life and you exhale. It’s not exactly freedom, just room to breathe.

🧸

You are anything but behind. You’re so desperate to dissociate, that you breeze through your current projects. In the background, Sy lurks, the couch creaking as he sits up, his footfalls against the floor as he paces, and the little clicks and clacks of his curiosity as he looks around your place.

As your eyes begin to glaze over from the glare, he appears on the other side of the table, “hungry, sweetie?”

You’re not. You shrug, not wanting to give the wrong answer.

“I could order something. I know you just shopped and all but I don’t mind.”

“You know, that’s nice but I’m still full from breakfast.”

“Ah, yeah, that was a big one,” he agrees, “you know, those field rations made me a bit of a glutton once I got back to civilization.”

“Oh. You’re welcome to cook for yourself or something,” you offer.

“You gonna stay on that all night,” he points at the computer, “that sh—the light can’t be good for your eyes.”

“No, um, I... just finished.”

You close the laptop reluctantly. You hear the edge creeping into his timbre. He’s getting impatient.

“Well, if you’re not hungry, how about I run you a bath? You’re tense, you should relax, sweetie,” his hands go to his hips and tugs up his shorts just a little.

“Sure...” you murmur.

He goes before you can say anything else. What else can you say? He’s crazy and it’s becoming more obvious by the minute. Maybe you are too for not screaming at him to leave you alone.

Aika exhales and falls onto her side, stretching her long legs as she relaxes. Right, he’s not the only one you have to worry about. You get up and clasp your hands together. You walk around the table, once, twice, three times.

You hear the faucet and shudder. You stop and look at Aika then the door. You could sneak out right then. Tell your neighbour there’s an intruder in your home. With all his things and his dog. And they would see him walking in with you on the cameras like everything was all good.

Right. It’s an option but not better than the current one. You’re more likely to piss him off than get rid of him.

“Got it running for ya,” he comes out and you push your hands down, fighting own your fear.

“Thanks,” you say as you cross the room, “that’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, sweetie, no problem,” he nears and you keep from shying away, “I’m just tryna take care of you.”

“I... really appreciate it,” you eke out.

“You just take your time,” he runs his hands up and down your arms. “Mm,” he bites his lip, “you’re just so pretty. I can’t believe you’re real.”

Your chest wracks and your head swells. You can’t believe he’s real either.

You force a smile and freeze as you sense him leaning in. He kisses the top of your head and purrs, “you just go get nice and fresh.”

He releases you and reluctantly lets you go. You sidle past him cautiously. You don’t look back as you head for the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and let the air free from your lungs. Holy crud.

You go to the tub and stare in at the rising water. You wait for it to fill up before you shake the daze. You undress and slide into the water. You lean back and grip the edges. The world is surreal.

You’re too restless to enjoy the warmth. Usually you would find a bath soothing. You often take them with a candle burning and your favourite soap bubbled over the surface. You don’t think you’ll ever know peace again.

You sit up and hug your knees. You sit like that for a while. You want to fall apart right there but you know you can’t. The thing that helped you so much has doomed you.

You pull the stopper and get out. The water’s just making you cold. You dry off and wrap the towel around you. You pick up your clothes and go to the door, pressing your ear to listen to the other side.

You turn the handle slowly and ease it inch by inch. He’s not there. You tiptoe out, vigilant as you cross the room. You turn into the bedroom and nearly let out a yelp. You didn’t really think he’d left but you could hope.

“These are real cute,” he lays down the button up silk pajama shirt with the matching shorts.

“Oh, uh, sure, um...”

“Should be nice and comfy,” he faces you with a grin.

“Well, uh, yeah, but...” you begin to argue. You don’t really sleep in those ones, you more lounge around. “Thanks.”

You keep your arms across your chest, the tower firmly clutched around you. You look down at the set as he remains close. You wait. Is he gonna go?

“Aren’t ya gonna put them on?”

“Sure, uh,” you grab them, your other hand fisted around the top of the towel, “I’ll just go do that.”

“You don’t gotta be shy with me,” he purrs, “but I guess you’re a nice girl, huh. You like to take it slow.”

You press your lips together, “mhm.”

You back away, wanting to run in the other direction. You turn at the door and leave him there. You can’t help but feel he’s already seen too much.

You flit back to the bathroom and lock yourself in. You are about to combust. You tremble as you pull on the shorts, then the shirt. You hang the towel and linger by the door.

He's really not going to leave. For whatever reason, you hoped he might call it a night and go. Why would he do that? He doesn’t do sane things.

“Sweetie,” the knock on the door makes you jump. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” you squeak.

The door handle wiggles. You flick the lock back and he pushes it open from the other side. He lets go of the handle and steps back, his eyes roving up and down your body.

“Ah, sugar, you look... look real... good,” his voice is smoky as he spreads his hand over his chest. “Sweet little thing, just wanna eat you—up!”

He surprises you as suddenly he has you off your feet. He has his arms around you as he lifts you and carries you away from the bathroom door. You yelp and hit his shoulder, wriggling and kicking. Oh no!

“Sy, please, no,” you cry out but he ignores you, “no, no, no...” you panic finally overflow and your eyes glisten. He takes you into the bedroom and your heart pounds feverishly, “please...” you wisp before he tosses you on the bed, “don’t hurt me!”

You bounce on the mattress and hold your hand up, bracing for his next move. When it doesn’t come, you part your fingers and look at him through them. He watches you with a line in his forehead.

“You think I’m gonna hurt you?” He rasps.

“I... you just caught me off guard,” you push yourself up on your elbows, “I didn’t--”

“I was just playing,” he frowns, “having some fun with my girl. Wanted some snuggles, is all.”

Despite it all, you actually feel bad. He sounds genuinely hurt. You sit up all the way and pout up at him, “Sy,” you utter softly, “I’m tired, I’m sorry.”

He inhales so his broad chest rises and blows it out as he rubs his shaves head. He drops his hand and sniffs, “yeah, me too. Been a long day.”

“So... so...” you quaver as you grasp at the last of your courage, “let’s just sleep it off.”

His jaw ticks and he tilts his head until you hear a pop, “yeah, you’re right, sweetie. Think I just got overexcited.”

You flutter your lashes as you hold back the wave of relief. It dissipates as soon as it rises. This isn’t over. You have a whole night ahead of you and brand new day.

#captain syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #sand castle #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #follow you anywhere

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harryforvogue · 11 months ago

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Harry sets the hair dryer down on the table beside Yasmine’s shoulder. Her eyes blink open to glance at him curiously through the mirror, hand already reaching for the dryer to take over. “Got tired?”

He shakes his head, staring back at her reflection with a pensive look.

It was his idea to dry her hair for her since her arms were sore from yesterday's therapy. Despite taking a hot bath immediately after to soothe her muscles, the ache had made it tough this morning. They’d showered together, Harry’s gentle fingers massaging the shampoo into her scalp, gliding the conditioner down her ends, and his palms carefully smearing over her eyes to remove any suds from her face. He’d held her jaw in his hands and bent down to kiss her softly, thumbs rubbing over her wet cheeks.

He’d usually be handsy in the shower, but this time he only held her and kissed her face, eyes never straying from hers. It unnerved her for him to be so silent, but it also excited her to have all his attention.

“What is it?” she asks him, because a silent Harry is something to be worried about.

Harry almost smiles at the immediate frown on her face. It’s a default expression for her, and oh how he loves it. “What do you think about marriage?”

Yasmine freezes. The frown disappears, but it’s now replaced by apprehension.

“Marriage,” she repeats.

“Mhmm.” He runs his thumb over the back of her neck. She shivers.

“It’s. Well, it’s marriage.”

“Astute, my love.”

“It’s legally binding.”

“That it is.”

“Webster Dictionary defines it as–”

“Yasmine,” Harry says quietly, but firmly. “First thought that comes into your head. Go. Marriage.”

She blinks and automatically replies, “You, of course.” And then she has the audacity to look concerned with her own answer. “Oh.”

He smiles fully then, whirling her around so she can see his face. She looks up at him quizzically, but lets him push her hair back over her shoulders. Instead of kissing her, he hugs her to his torso, pressing her face into his stomach. “Okay.”

“Okay?” she says, muffled against his shirt.

“Just wanted to see something.”

He squeezes her tightly, hard enough to make her wince, but not hard enough to make her cry out. He smooths his hands down her back then, and then releases her, reaching for the dryer again.

“Whoa,” Yasmine says, placing her hand on his to stop him. “Listen, I’m not a very big romantic person, but there’s no way I’m going to allow you to propose to me while you’re drying my hair!”

Harry ponders over this for a minute. “Would it help if I got on one knee?” And then he does so, bringing the dryer along with him.

“Harry!” She puts her hands on each shoulder, scooting closer to him. The wild look in her eyes is still there, but it’s now mixed with…delight?

He shakes his head. “Yasmine, you have no faith in me. Why would I propose to you like this?”

“I don’t know! Why are you asking me about marriage?”

He gives her a pointed look. “We’ve been dating for over a year, not to mention you made me wait throughout grad school for you to come around. I hope you know that I’m fully committed to you and would like a life with you. You are mine. This is it for me.”

Yasmine feels her face flush, swallowing hard. Her heart hammers in her chest and the entire world melts away. It’s just her and this ridiculous gem of a man. “I thought that was a given. And unspoken.”

“It was. But now I’m saying it out loud so you know. Because I know things get lost between us sometimes, but I need to be clear now.”

Oh.

“I started dating you knowing you were the last woman I’d be with. I will do many, many things to ensure that. I will let you win as many fights as you want, put up with your worst habits if the need be. And I need to know if we’re on the same page about this.”

Something inside her squeezes. He looks so serious, eyes unwavering, jaw set, that it makes her shiver again. He’s rarely ever this intense about anything. His hand strays from the dryer, taking one of her hands instead, pressing her open palm to his heart.

“Of course,” Yasmine blurts. She grabs his shirt, tugging him a little closer. “We’re on the same page about that. You can’t get rid of me now.”

Harry nods once. “Good.” He then kisses the top of her head and then stands, her hand falling away when he reaches his full height. He manually turns back around and parts her hair once more, ready to dry it again.

“Harry,” she says before she gets drowned out.

“Hm?”

“I don’t have high expectations about a proposal. I need to clarify that.”

He finally smiles, his eyes clearing. He kisses her head again, more firmly, and then sighs against her. “It’s been years and you still think so little about my wooing skills.”

“I’m just saying. It doesn't have to be big.”

“I know, baby.”

The pet name makes her inwardly soar. “But just not while drying my hair.”

“It would make me happy,” he admits softly. “To propose while taking care of you. Something I consider my only purpose.”

“I mean it.” She tries to sound strict, her breath catching at the confession. She fails completely.

“I know,” he says again, and then hugs her tightly. “I know.”

#harry styles #harry and yasmine #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 5 months ago

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You Should Come Thru (Hawks x Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

Fan Art by @almaadst ❤️❤️

Pairing: Keigo "Hawks" Takami x Black!Self-Insert!Reader

Synopsis: After a month of hard work, no play, and a bad date, Hawks invites you over to his apartment for some tea to relax and finally get some time with his bestie, but as the night grows long, you suddenly lose your filter and begin telling him things that he shouldn’t know. All because of his very special tea.

Tags: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Friends to Lovers; Hurt/Comfort; Marijuana Consumption; Stripping; Mutual Oral; Mutual Masturbation; Body Worship; Voyeurism; High Sex; Dubcon (only because of the weed but there is verbal consent given); Facesitting; Riding; Mild Choking; Mirror Sex; Dom!Hawks/sub!Reader; Mild Namecalling; Wing Stroking; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Aftercare

Writer's Note: Thank you again to @curiouscutie143 for trusting me with your fantasies & ideas enough to bring them to life! -Jazz

**********

When you knock on his door that late night, Keigo already knows you are standing behind it.

He smiles at seeing your face in the peephole and opens the door without a greeting. Seeing you there still in your work dress, shoes, and pantyhose from before, he leans against the door frame and smirks at you despite your tired expression. “Well, what a surprise,” he says, sarcasm evident. “I don’t suppose you’re selling something?”

You hold your tote bag and a box from the restaurant you went to tonight in your hands. “If you think it’s a free dessert that the waitress gave me ‘cause she felt so bad for me, then yes, I do,” you glumly reply. “Can I come in?”

Keigo’s smile grows as he runs a hand through his short-cropped, blonde hair. “Shit, you kiddin’ me?” he chuckles. “Nothing’s better than pity dessert. Come right in.”

He opens the door wider, allowing you to walk inside the gorgeous, empty penthouse. Judging by Keigo’s attire of sweats, a white tee, and some slides, he was busy cleaning up for your arrival. The counters are clean, the pillows are fluffed and organized on the couch, and the TV is playing the newest episode of “Dinner In Dungeon” on Netflix.

“Take off your shoes,” he says, shutting the door behind you. “You look like you need to.”

You immediately do so, sitting down on the expensive couch in front of the TV to kick off the flats that you’ve been wearing all day at work. Keigo comes over to take the box of dessert from your dinner date, giving you a soothing smile as he does.

“Thank you again for letting me come over, Kei,” you sigh, relieved to have your feet released from the traps of your shoes. “I’m sorry it’s so late.” He pulls a sour face at you. “Don’t apologize,” he says. “My crib, your crib. Besides, I invited you over here after work to chill, remember?”

He turns to walk into his pristine, thousand-dollar kitchen with its granite counters, silver steel appliances, wine cooler, and personal mini-bar that has long since been used less since he eased up on his drinking. After Keigo got his burn scars from his fight with Dabi that almost claimed his life, he turned into a whole different person…for the better.

He cropped his hair down to snip off the burned ends from the fire, bulked up a bit more so his muscles are more defined, and he stays out of the limelight more than he used to. Less clubs, fewer groupies, and less expensive shopping sprees. The burn scars on his cheek, neck, and back are testaments of the changes he’s gone through.

But he’s still the same man you’ve been friends with for years now. You first met him three years ago when he opened his account with your bank with you as his teller. Years later, you’re still his teller and your friendship is stronger than ever. You’d never do anything to change that…even though deep down, you secretly want to.

“Well, that was to relax because you think I’m killing myself with work; not to trauma dump about my string of bad dates.” You kick your feet up on the couch, wriggling your painted toes.

Keigo pauses in the kitchen and walks back over to the doorway, leaning his hip against it. His shirt rises up a bit to show off one of his burn scars and his toned lower stomach where you see a patch of blonde hair. You look away. “Oh,” he realizes. “Tonight wasn’t the one, huh?”

You look back up at him, feeling your stress and the tension inside of you since your Uber ride here from your date melt away at the sight of his soft, almost somber expression.

“Definitely not.”

He comes over to you, holding your dessert on a plate with two forks for you both. Your waitress took it upon herself to personally give you a free chocolate mousse cake topped with whipped cream and peaches. She probably saw how unhappy you were on your Bumble date and did it as a way to make sure you didn’t stab yourself with a fork.

“Well, you know what eases stress from work and makes you feel better after bad dates?” Keigo smirks down at you, his golden eyes tinkling. “Ugh, no weed, please,” you say in disgust. “And no alcohol. I had two glasses of wine at dinner.” Hawks shoots you a look. “Don’t worry, I took an Uber here.”

“No, tea,” he finally answers, laughing lightly. “Not alcohol and of course not weed! I know you don’t smoke, silly girl…unless you do now.” He smirks at you. “Is work kicking your ass that bad?”

You roll your eyes, taking a fork to get a piece of your dessert. “Like you wouldn’t believe,” you sigh. “Ever since I took that promotion, it’s like they’re running me ragged over there. The only good thing is that this pay leaves me with extra money after the bills and rent are paid.”

You’ve had your job as a bank teller for over six years now and you take it very seriously…however, when you clock out, you don’t take calls or texts from work. Your time out of work is your own which you usually spend sleeping. Ever since you received your promotion several months ago because of your great work ethic, you haven’t spent much time doing much except working and sleeping. Which means your time with Keigo has taken the back burner.

“Well, tell me all about it while I getcha a cup,” he says, taking a forkful of the cake before walking into the kitchen. “Take the load off and relax.” You hear him putz around in the kitchen, clinging this and clanking that, while you eat your dessert. It is rich and sweet with the peaches adding the right amount of juiciness and syrupy sweetness.

“Don’t get me wrong, the job has great benefits, but…sometimes, I feel like I’m gonna disappear. I barely have time to hang out with you now.” You frown, thinking off all of those video game nights and days on the town that have vanished because of your exhaustion. When you come home from work, you immediately hit the hay like you haven’t slept in decades.

And on the weekend, a time that is meant for freedom, you’re spending it in your apartment getting ready for work again! It’s exhausting!

“Oh, I know,” Keigo calls. “That’s why I invited you over. What kind of tea ya want?” You lay back against the pillows, putting your hands on your plump stomach. “What do you got?”

“Uhhh, Merlo, orange blossom, camomile, lemon mint, lavender—“

“Lemon mint, please,” you decide. “With honey and sugar.” Keigo’s fluttery laughter exits the kitchen as he fills a kettle of water and puts it on the stove. “V, we’ve been friends for years. I know how you take your tea after making it for you for so long. Keep talking.”

You smile, glad to have someone who knows you so well. You groan, your feet flopping against the couch tiresomely. “I'm just so tired all of the time now. I don’t even look forward to my days off because all I do is sleep!”

After a few minutes of the tea kettle whistling and more putting around in the kitchen, Keigo exits the kitchen with a tray of two tea cups, organized tea bags, and the cutest little pots of sugar and lemon slices you’ve ever seen. He sits down beside you on the couch and fixes you a cup. ”I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you,” you sigh apologetically. “Even with your hero work, you still make time for me.”

His golden eyes cut over to you, serious yet soft. “Hey,” he firmly says. “Stop. Life is hard. Adulting sucks. We’re still friends regardless of work and responsibilities. Now drink.”

He hands you a cup of your tea, the scent of lemon mingled with mint filling your nostrils. You hold the warm cup against your nose and breathe in the steam before taking a much-needed sip. You’re immediately filled with warmth. “Ah,” you sigh. “That’s nice.”

Keigo leans back against the couch with you, spreading his legs as he sips his tea and visibly relaxes into the couch. You keep your eyes straight ahead, not wanting to stare dead at his thighs or his groin though it’s right in earshot. “See? Works like magic…though weed works too.” He breathes in his lavender tea and takes a sip, his eyes fluttering shut. You like seeing him relaxed like this. He looks way more handsome to you in this state.

You don’t quite know when you started thinking this way about your friend. You just know that these thoughts have yet to go away. But you won’t dare acknowledge them or tell him anything. Keigo is your bestie and that is how he’ll stay. You two have been through way too much as friends and have too much of a great relationship for you to ruin it with emotions you can’t decipher or make sense of.

He turns to you now, pulling your feet into his lap. “So tell me about this date you had tonight. Didn’t you say it was with some guy you met on Bumble?”

You nod, sipping your tea. “Yeah, we’d been talking for about two weeks and decided to meet for dinner. Really, I just agreed because he was paying and I thought it’d be a good distraction from work, but…”

You pause, not really wanting to delve into tonight’s story about your horrible date. You started dating again five months ago, going through dating apps like Bumble, Tinder, and Hinge. You figured trying to find a nice, loving relationship wouldn’t hurt, but so far, your efforts have been futile. If you haven’t found hookups, you’ve found a slew of bad dates with mansplainers, closet incels, and the scummiest losers on these apps. The most recent one takes the cake.

Keigo raises an eyebrow at you. “But?” he encourages. “Damn, was he that bad?” He laughs a bit, though he tries to stifle it as much as he can.

You sigh, picturing your date tonight. He was a beautiful man on the outside—Colgate smile, curly hair, nice body—, but on the inside, you felt like you’d need all kinds of cleaning products to clean up his nasty personality. “Well, let’s just say I won't be calling him again.”

Keigo laughs at this and you shove him in the arm. “At dinner, all he talked about was himself, he kept sneakily checking out other girls even though I saw, and then he acted like I had to give him “some” just because he paid even though he said he would! I even suggested we split!”

The pro grows increasingly interested in hearing about this, especially hearing that your date was clearly a whore. “Well, what did he say?” he asks. You stare at the TV, not really watching the show. “He just kept trying to get me to go home with him, telling me he had good beer back at his place. When I said no, he looked fed up.”

You take a sip of your tea, becoming more open with every sip. “Like, I should’ve been the one who was fed up,” you scoff. “I had to force him to ask questions about me at dinner because he kept droning on about the fact that he’s a licensed plumber and how he usually meets girls below his caliber.”

You roll your eyes, something you’ve been doing all night. You’re shocked they haven’t rolled into the back of your head or fallen out yet. Keigo makes a noise between a disproving grunt and a lamented groan. “Oh, he was that type of guy.” He takes a forkful of the cake.

You do the same, your hands brushing against one another as you reach for your fork. You ignore the slight spark you feel when you touch him. “Yeah,” you sigh. “But the thing is I don’t even think he liked that I have a job where I have a higher salary than he does. He was so weird about it.”

You take another sip of the tea and pause, realizing that you’re not as angry or as disappointed as before. You feel so relaxed and at ease, your body melting into the sofa. It’s like you’re at a spa, listening to soothing music while you get your feet rubbed. “God, I’m so relaxed. That’s a first in I don’t know how long.”

Keigo smiles, happy to hear this. “Well, that’s a good thing. Now….” He lowers his cup down and places a hand on your ankle. “Tell me more.” And so you do. You tell him about your bad date, your fears about being alone, your mother constantly getting on you about being single and giving her some grandbabies soon, etc.

With every sip of your magical tea, you become more open and honest with your friend, running off with the mouth about your life. Keigo listens intently, running his hands over your aching feet and flicking the TV channel every so often. He never once speaks or interrupts. He only listens, which is exactly what you need.

Finally, once the tea is almost gone, you sit back against the couch and hug a pillow to your chest. “I don’t think he’s ever gonna call again,” you continue, referring to your Bumble date. “And I don’t care! I’m so tired of meeting the same jerks who only wanna brag about themselves to anyone who will listen and only look at women as sex toys.”

Keigo pushes the plate of empty cake aside, pouring you more tea in the process. “Not to sound like your dad or anything, but why do you even wanna try if the dating pool is so shitty?”

You take a moment to think about it, mostly because your mind is moving so slowly. It’s like everything is moving in slow motion. Maybe going on your date after work wasn’t a good idea. “I just figured it wouldn’t hurt to try to find somebody good.” Keigo raises an eyebrow at you. “Somebody good?” he asks. “What does a “good” partner look like to you, V?”

You are stunned by the question and suddenly at a loss of words. You’re not sure why. You’ve had these types of conversations with Keigo all the time! But suddenly, you feel nervous and like the walls around you are closing in.

“Like…I dunno….someone who listens and is interested in me. Someone who’s understanding, caring, kind…someone who doesn’t always think about themselves. Someone who I can count on for anything.”

Keigo doesn’t say anything. He just fixes you with an unreadable yet almost personal expression. “Don’t get it twisted though: I love my life as it is!” you quickly add. “I’ve got a great job, a crib, a car, friends, family...I don’t want you to think I’m desperate for a man to make me feel complete.”

The blonde sips on his tea, looking confused at your sudden interest in proving to him that you’re not desperate for a man. “I didn’t say that.”

But you continue on: “It would just be nice, y’know, to have a loving relationship. Sometimes I get lonely and I think that I’ll die alone with my cat.” You play with your fingers, looking at anything but him. You don’t want to see the pity in his eyes.

“I know that it’s just me being stupid and overthinking shit, but it’d be nice to have someone I click with, like we do,” you confess. “I’d like a partner like…you.”

That’s who you want in a partner. Someone who thinks of you like they think of themselves. Someone who is there for you to lend an ear, a shoulder to cry on, or a smile that gives you butterflies. Someone who you look forward to seeing and makes you happy when you think about them. Someone like your good friend, Keigo.

Shyly, you look at him and you can see the stun in his eyes at your confession. Realizing how this sounds, your body and face flame up. “No, no, not like that!” You protest, flustered. “I-I just mean I’d want a guy like you as a partner. Y’know, someone who makes me feel safe and secure. Beautiful, even.”

The silence that swells around you is intense and uncomfortable. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,” you awkwardly chuckle. “There must be truth serum in this tea or somethin’.” You lower your cup down on the coffee table, pushing it away as if it’s poison.

“Actually, no,” Keigo says. “It’s weed.”

You pause, letting the wheels turn in your head as you process what he just said. “....What?” you finally ask. “You’re joking.” You even giggle to yourself, but he doesn’t. You can tell from the look he’s giving you. “You’re serious,” you realize.

He sips on his tea, somehow proving it to you by doing so. “Deadass,” he replies.

“Hawks, what the fuck?!” You shout, sitting up from the couch. “Why would you do that?! You know I don’t smoke!” Keigo clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Oh, relaaaax,” he draws. “I didn’t put that much in it. Just enough to relax you. If I would’ve asked, you would’ve said no.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t say no!” you protest, jumping up from the couch. “Because I don’t do drugs!”

“Well, neither do I!” he retorts, standing up with you. “I’m not a pill popper or nothing, V. It’s just weed. All it does is soothe your nerves, gives you the munchies, and makes you sleep. Speakin’ of munchies, I’ve got some fried chicken takeout left in the fridge.”

“And it also makes your anxiety skyrocket,” you angrily argue. “That explains why I’m runnin’ off with the mouth and sayin’ shit that I shouldn’t be saying!”

You place a hand on your head, feeling it thump like a heartbeat. Speaking of heartbeat, you become hyper-aware of how much it has increased in the last few minutes and now, you can’t stop focusing on it. “God,” you exhale. You close your eyes, trying to slow your breathing and your racing mind.

Keigo immediately turns around and rushes to you, laying a hand on your back. “You okay?” he asks, worried. Once he realizes what’s happening, he immediately springs into action and takes your hand. Slowly, he leads you back over to the couch and sits you down.

“Stay there,” he says and as fast as lightning, he zooms back to the kitchen to get you some water and flaps back over on his big, red, fluffy wings like an angel. “Sip this,” he says, handing you the glass. “Just relax, honey. You’re okay. It’s just the weed talkin’.”

He gently touches your knee and rubs it as you drink the ice water, taking slow sips. You try to ignore how hot you feel with him touching you, but it’s impossible to ignore. It’s been a long time since a touch has made you feel like this. His voice too—so soft and silky. “I promise I didn’t put that much in there,” he says, sounding guilty. “But maybe I shouldn’t have put any in at all. I’m sorry, V. I just didn’t like seein’ you so tired.”

His hand gently grasps your knee and you shudder like he’s touching bare skin. “I had hoped this would relax you. You walk around like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders, y’know? The bad dates don’t make it better.”

He looks at you then. Really looks at you, like he sees all of you—the woman you are, the woman he sees, and the woman you want to be. All in those golden irises like sunken treasure. “You deserve to be happy,” he softly says. “And you deserve to have a partner who will make your happiness and well-being their top priority. I hope whoever it is knows how amazing of a person they’ve got.”

And in his eyes and his handsome face, you see it. He’s telling the truth. Suddenly, you feel warm and those butterflies start flapping away in the pit of your stomach. Looking at him, you think to yourself that all that you want in a partner…could it be that maybe, just maybe, who you want is…him?

Suddenly, your hand moves on its own and cups Keigo’s face. He flinches slightly, stunned by the sudden movement, but he doesn’t push you away. “V?” he whispers, furrowing his brows at you.

Wordlessly, you lean in slowly, assessing his face and giving him time to pull away. He doesn’t. It’s like you’re watching yourself from the outside, but you can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips to his. The kiss is tentative and short, but it absolutely sets your entire body ablaze. His lips are soft and taste faintly of lavender from the tea. His cologne engulfs your nostrils, making your hormones run wild.

It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life…and it just so happens that it’s with your best friend.

You pull away, both of you silently staring at one another, shocked by how great of a kiss that was and what the fuck just happened. Keigo doesn’t freak out or even remotely act like he didn’t enjoy it. He only whispers, “V”, his voice barely above a whisper. But it’s enough to send your mind careening back down to Earth. “I’m so sorry,” you say, your voice small. “I didn’t…I-I don’t know why I—“

But Keigo stops you by turning your face towards his again and kissing you once more. This one is longer and slower. He takes his sweet time getting to know your lips and introducing you to his, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your jaw. It feels good.

So good, in fact, that you find your hands moving to his shoulders, your fingers feeling up his toned arms and biceps. It feels good. He feels so good. You can’t believe how right it feels to be kissing and touching him. Slowly, he pulls away, his breathing ragged. “We should probably talk about this.”

But you pull him back in for more kisses, these ones eager and heated. “We can talk later,” you whisper. “Just keep kissing me.” He listens to you, a soft moan leaving his lips as your tongue caresses his bottom lip. He parts his lips, granting you access, and your tongues begin to swirl amongst each other as your hands wander. You feel the, on your waist, your back, your ass, squeezing and kneading.

At some point, Keigo walks you back to the couch and sits down first, pulling you on top of him. A soft, surprised moan escapes you as his hands grip your ass, keeping you locked in his lap. You straddle him and his groin, encasing him in the heat between your luscious, jiggly thighs. You keep kissing, your hands sliding down his chest, indulging in his muscles, and wanting so much to feel his bare skin.

He pulls away with a soft pop as your lips disconnect, his gaze hooded and dazed as he stares up at you. “You feel so good here,” he sighs. “You’re so soft.” He pushes himself against you as he begins to pepper your neck with soft kisses. You moan, tossing your head back, letting him litter your throat in slow, wet smooches. Unconsciously, your body responds by grinding against him, causing something very hard to grow between your thighs.

You gasp, looking down at his bulge. You got your best friend hard! He gives you a sheepish look with an endearingly awkward smile. “Sorry. You’ve got me excited.” A fire ignites inside of you, desperate to be freed. It might be the weed, but you feel just as excited and aroused as he is. “That’s the idea,” you giggle. You lean in to kiss him, nibbling on his bottom lip. “Bedroom. Please.”

Keigo’s eyes flash with worry, your plea awakening something in him. “Are you sure you want this?” he whispers. “We can stop here if you want to—“

“No,” you exhale, shaking your head. “I don’t wanna stop. I want this.” To prove your point, you take his hand and slide it between your thighs for him to feel your second heartbeat. Your pussy is throbbing and sobbing for him, quickly becoming more insistent on being touched. Keigo’s mouth parts, a shuddering breath leaving his lips.

You watch his wings shudder and ruffle as if you’ve touched them. He’s told you before that his feathers are sensitive. You make a mental note to experiment with them later as he cups his hands under your ass. “Hang onto me then,” he orders. “Don’t look down, okay, darlin’?”

The pet name makes you feel hot all over and you nod, holding onto him tight. You lock your arms and legs around him as he stands up with you in his arms and gently flutters his wings. Though you gasp as you’re suddenly levitating off of the ground, you close your eyes and hug him close as he flies up the stairs to his bedroom. He chuckles at your reaction having not taken you flying before. He’ll have to do that later.

Once you get to his bedroom, he gently puts you down on your feet and shuts the door. You look around the spacious room, noticing the sweet smell of roses and the cleanliness of it. The balcony on the left side of the room next to the bed is cracked, bringing in a soft summer breeze. “I can’t believe I’ve never seen your bedroom before.” You turn to him, noticing him sizing you up in a way that excites you. “You never had to.”

You turn back to the king-sized bed, big enough for at least four people with a soft-looking red comforter, pillows, and… “Is that…a mirror?!” you gasp, looking up at the ceiling. There, in the square-shaped mirror hovering above the bed, you see yourself staring back.

Keigo comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Yeah, I know; I’m a freak. Is this okay with you?” His concern for your comfort turns you on even more. You’ve never seen yourself have sex before, but the idea of looking up into the mirror and watching yourself take dick and tongue while seeing Keigo’s handsome face contort in pleasure makes your pussy spill all in your panties.

You turn around in his arms and nod, too aroused to speak. He lazily smirks at you, his eyes hooded from arousal and the weed. “Then help me out of these clothes, will ya?” He groans, pulling on his pants. “I can’t take much more of this waiting game, babe.”

You can’t either. You’re dying to see what he looks like without clothes. “You get naked first,” you suggest, a purr in your voice. He fulfills your wish and works his pants off while you peel off his shirt. At one point, Keigo almost falls trying to get his pants off, making you both giggle hysterically.

Keigo gets very giggly and goofy when he’s high, something you know from many calls where he’s been high as a kite and you’re trying to sleep. Apparently, you get giggly too, unable to stop laughing. The clothes continue to come off until he’s just in his undies, exposing all kinds of savory, tanned muscle that you can’t help but touch, stroke, kiss, and lick. Keigo moans and tangles a hand in your hair as you do as you please, whispering, “Fuck, baby” and arousing “Mmm-hmms” as you do.

When you pull away, you ogle at his burn scars for a moment, trailing your fingers over the rough patches of skin. You feel Keigo tense as you do and look up into his eyes, seeing insecurity. Quickly, you soften this by cupping his face in your hands. “I like you like this,” you whisper. “Gives you character.”

Keigo cracks a smile and laughs, the sight adorable to you as your thumbs stroke his cheeks. “Your turn, darlin’.” Slowly, he begins to peel off your dress, slowly kissing you as he does. It’s one of those painfully slow, sloppy kisses with tongue that leave you weak in the knees and craving more of him.

Once your dress and bra are off, Keigo sits you down on the bed and works on getting your pantyhose down. He watches you watch him pull the nylon stockings down your thighs, exposing your milky, brown skin and luscious thighs that he can’t help but stroke and grip as he leans over to kiss you.

His lips trail down to your breasts, making you moan as his soft lips touch your hardened nipples. When he latches his mouth around one of them and gently sucks, you gasp and grasp his hair, arching your chest into his mouth. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs. “How the fuck could any man fuck up a date with you?”

He turns his attention to your other nipple, giving it the same attention he just gave the one now tingling and coated in his spit. He toys with your tits, molding and squeezing them gently in your hands, loving how soft and heavy they are. Loud moans escape you as you tangle your fingers in his blonde locks, your pussy throbbing in your panties. “Keigo,” you mewl. “Baby, touch me.”

He pulls away from your nipple to speak: I am, darlin’,” he chuckles. “Where else do you want me?” His golden eyes twinkle up at you with lust and mirth. Your fingers slide down to your clothed pussy, silently telling him just where you want him. You guide his hand there, but he stops. Instead, he keeps your hand there, staring at you. “No…show me.”

You blink at him, confused. Gently, he pushes your legs open more to expose yourself to him. Then he sits up on his knees beside you and, his eyes still locked with yours, takes down his briefs to show you his very hard, very thick, very pretty cock. You gape at it, marveling at the vein trailing from the pink, bulbous head dripping in pre-cum to the base where his heavy balls hang. “Show me how you touch yourself and I’ll show you.”

It feels like fire has crackled beneath your skin and in your veins as you do what he says. Slowly, still overcome by the weed, you pull your panties aside to reveal your glistening, wet cunt to him. “Shit,” he sighs. “You have such a pretty pussy.”

You whimper pitifully at his nasty compliment, rubbing your clit in slow circles. You feel deliciously dirty and sexy under his gaze as he watches you, his hand stroking his dick in tandem with your slow pace. You pay attention to how his hand grips the thick base and strokes upward before going down, wanting to do the same.

The more you stroke your pussy while he strokes his cock, soft moans and hums of pleasure leaving his pillowy-soft lips, the more you want to go further. Sitting here with your legs open and your fingers teasing your wet pussy while he gently pumps his cock in your face is the most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced. You need more of him.

You tilt your head up and begin giving the head of his cock kitten licks and kisses, earning soft moans in response. Peering up at him under your lashes, you beg him with your eyes to give you what you want. “You want this?” he asks, pressing his cock against your cheek. You nod, parting your lips as he slides his cock over to gently rub it against your mouth.

You open your mouth wider, allowing him to slide his cock in your mouth. “Fuck,” he groans, his gorgeous eyes rolling in the back of his head as his cock settles against your tongue. He lets you take the reins, only slowly thrusting in time with the slow bops of your head and sucks. You take your time blowing him, wanting to get to know his cock. He is thick and stretches out your throat, causing you to have to breathe through your nostrils and feel an ache in your jaw.

But it feels so good. You love how he feels in your mouth. You love how he tastes. You love how warm he feels encased in your mouth and throat. You love the amount of spit that collects in your mouth and drips down your chin as you continue to blow him, using your free hand to play with his balls. “God,” he moans, his hand tangling in your hair. “You feel so good, V, what the fuck.”

He feels good too. Your pussy gets wetter, your juices slipping down to your asscrack, as you continue to rub yourself in time with your slow deep throating. You absolutely love sucking his cock. It doesn’t take long for that knot in your core to begin tightening and you rub a little faster. “Kei,” you exhale around his cock. “I-I’m ‘bout to…I’m gonna—“

“No.” Keigo’s golden eyes flash at you, firm. “Stop.” You do as he says, slowing down before coming to a pause. “Sit on my face,” he bluntly says. You blink at him, stunned. “What?” you dumbly ask.

“You heard me, baby: sit. On my. Face.” His hand slides down to cup yours over your pussy. “I want you to do what I’ve dreamed of you doin’ to me for years and that’s cumming in my mouth.” A cocky smirk pulls at his lips. “Don’t worry. I can handle you. If I die, I die happy.”

You roll your eyes while he laughs, but you still think it over.

You’ve never sat on a guy’s face before. It’s the first time you’ll be doing so. What if he’s uncomfortable? What if you can’t breathe and you accidentally smother him? What if you crush his neck with your full weight? Those pesky “what ifs” continue to haunt you, but at the sight of Keigo’s lustful eyes and warm smile, they begin to dissipate.

So you agree. “Pat my thigh twice if it’s too much,” you say, earning a scoff in return. He then crawls up to the top of the bed, giving you a view of his great ass, and flops onto his back, head against the pillows. His smile widens and he motions you to come hither, his cock standing at attention for you.

Suddenly feeling shy but not wanting to back out, you slowly crawl over to him and on top of him, your thighs straddling his chest. “Uh…so how do I do this?” you awkwardly ask. He laughs, his chest vibrating beneath you. “Well, first, you’ve gotta get close to my face, baby. Don’t worry; you won’t fall. Just sit on me.”

Drawn to his smile and encouragement like a moth to a flame, you sit up on your knees and scoot closer until you’re hovering over his handsome face. His eyes peer up at you, coaxing you to come down. Slowly, you do and almost immediately, your jaw drops, and your eyes go wide at the immense pleasure you feel when his tongue hits your clit.

“Oh, God!” you cry out, grabbing onto the headboard for dear life so you don’t spray all over your best friend’s face. In this position, he can reach everything, from his tongue caressing your clit and the folds of your cunt to his hands gripping and massaging your ass. He’s able to drink right from the source now, so he does so. He slurps and drinks like a thirsty man from your pussy, falling in love with how you taste.

And you fall in love with his mouth. You can’t help but grind yourself against his nose as he slurps at your pussy, his tongue moving magically between your folds. “Fuck, Hawks, yes!” you sob, tossing your head back. “Fuck, please, keep going! Oh, don’t stop!”

From between your soft, sweet, thick thighs, you can hear Keigo mumbling about how good you taste and whimpering as he continues to slurp your pussy. You’ve never heard him whimper before. It sounds so pathetic yet so sexy coming from him, the sounds vibrating against your pussy. “Fuck me,” he pleas from underneath you. “Fuck my face, baby.”

So you do. You can’t help it. His mouth just feels too good! Your hips move on their own, grinding and rolling, causing your pussy to glide along his tongue and your clit to bump against his nose. His face becomes your surfboard and you’re trying desperately to catch that wave of pleasure that will surely cause a wipeout for you. Your moans and cries grow louder, bouncing off the bedroom walls, possibly alerting the neighbors of how good you’re getting fucked.

Finally, that knot in your core reaches its limit and you feel yourself come undone in Keigo’s mouth. “I’m cumming!” you gasp, using one hand to grip Keigo’s hair. “Fuck, baby, I’m cumming!” Greedily, Keigo takes all that you give him, his tongue moving slowly yet deliciously along your wet slit as you cum in his mouth.

He moans eagerly, taking everything you give him that floods into his mouth like the most delicious waterfall. Your moans are like music to him, making his cock strain and ache. He needs to bust at this point! When you begin to feel overstimulated, he finally stops and you roll off of him.

You flop onto your back on the mattress, panting heavily and staring up at your body in the mirror. Your brown skin glistens in sweat and your hair is a tousled mess. Keigo gently strokes your side, his pants matching yours. “That was perfect,” he sighs. Tiredly, you nod. “You okay?” He worriedly asks.

You’ve never felt better. But now you want more. So you turn to him and kiss him, tasting yourself off of his lips. “I want more,” you whisper. You don’t need to elaborate any more than that for him. “Lemme just get some stuff,” he murmurs, kissing your lips before moving to his nightstand drawer.

There, he retrieves a bottle of edible lube and a water bottle for you. As you drink the water, you peek over his shoulder, spotting a pack of pre-rolled blunts that he no doubt smokes while he’s in here. Shockingly, you put a hand on his shoulder and nod down at the blunts. “Take one out,” you say. “I wanna try somethin’.”

Keigo looks shocked since you seemed so freaked out about weed initially, but he does as you say and places the blunt and a lighter on an ashtray on the nightstand. You coax him to lean back, relishing how eager he seems as he lets you do as you want to him. You then straddle him, his hard cock pressing against your mound, and press your lips to his ear.

“I wanna smoke while I ride you,” you whisper. “I want you to blow smoke in my mouth while you watch me take your cock.”

Keigo shudders at your dirty suggestion, swearing under his breath. “Ya mean shotgunning?” He chuckles, raising an eyebrow at you. You flush bashfully, shrugging. You’ve only ever seen the act in movies, but the idea of it turns you on, especially when you’re taking cock. “I like you freaky like this,” he pants, gently nibbling your bottom lip. “Go ahead then, baby. Take your time.”

So you do. You use the lube on him, stroking the cold substances up and down his shaft. He shivers at the chill until the lube warms up in your palm, your ministrations making him moan and whimper. “C’mon, mama,” he groans. “You’ll make me cum before I’m even inside you yet.”

You add some lube around your entrance despite being as wet as an ocean. But you decide that you want to feel all of him, so you want to be as slick as possible. Taking hold of his shoulder with one hand while he securely handles your hips, you take his cock into your hand and rub it against your slit. He locks eyes with you, enjoying seeing the pleasure in them. “Fuck me,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Take me, baby.”

Slowly, you press the head against your entrance and gently slide down his shaft. You take his head first, the sensations you both feel causing you to gasp in unison. Then, inch by inch, you take more of his thick cock inside of your soft, curvy body. You slowly rock your hips and bounce up and down in his lap, taking him deeper and deeper with every passing second. “Mmm, fuck, Keigo,” you whine, gripping his hips as you bounce on his dick. “You feel so fucking good!”

Keigo would tell you the same, but he’s too busy watching your pretty ass take his cock like a good girl. He loves the way your stomach jiggles; how soft your back rolls feel as he traces his fingers over them; how your tits bounce and your thighs ripple. You’re truly a specimen, especially when high.

Speaking of high, he remembers the blunt he put on the nightstand and reaches for it, never once taking his eyes off of you. He grabs the blunt and his lighter, still watching you ride him. “You’re doin’ so well for me, baby,” he groans. “You feel so fuckin’ amazing. Keep bouncin’ on me, okay?”

You nod, continuing to sink down onto his cock as you watch him light his blunt. He wraps his lips around one of the ends and puffs once, twice, three times as the other end burns red from the lighter. Keigo then tosses the lighter aside and inhales deeply. The smoke billows from his lips as he exhales, his golden eyes hooded and lazy.

“Mind if I smoke?” he jokingly asks, smiling lazily at you. You’ve never seen him look sexier. “C’mere,” he murmurs. He puts the blunt to his mouth again and inhales, holding the smoke between his cheeks.

You lean in and make a small O shape with your puckered lips. He leans in and exhales slowly, blowing the smoke in a steady stream into your mouth. The weed smoke combined with his dick inside of you is a different kind of high. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment before opening again, dazed and slightly red.

Keigo lets out a sexy chuckle as he watches your eyes glaze over. “Nice, right?” You slowly nod, smiling deliriously at him. As you slowly grind your clit against his stomach, you lean in again, wanting more. “You want another one, huh?” he asks. “Keep fucking me just like that then.”

You do as he says and brace yourself on his shoulders, letting him shotgun you again for an indirect kiss. It quickly turns into a direct, sloppy tongue kiss as he presses his mouth to yours. The scent of marijuana and his spicy cologne mingles in your nostrils, somehow making you wetter and more needy. “Put your hand on my throat,” you beg. “Please, Keigo!” A fire flashes behind Keigo’s eyes, excited by your sluttiness.

His big, red wings suddenly move around you as if to shield you from everything but him as his hand shoots out to gently grasp our throat. “Fuck, babe, you’re so hot like this. Who knew all it took to turn you into a little slut was some weed?”

He watches you between his golden slits of eyes, his lips pressed together in pleasure as he feels your slick pussy stroke him again and again, both of you softly moaning in the darkness of his bedroom. The bed creaks and bounces underneath you, your ass softly clapping against Keigo’s thighs. The lewd sounds of you fucking only makes you move a little faster and harder. “Fuck, Kei,” you whine. “I’m gonna…gonna cum soon.”

Through gritted teeth, Keigo nods, his face flushed. “Shit, I know,” he hisses. “Me too. Need to..need to fuck you harder.” Without warning, he shoots forward, wraps an arm around you, and begins to lift his lips up to fuck you back. You gasp and toss your head back, eyes closed from the ecstasy and his thick cock stroking your insides. Your clit rubs against his pelvis with every thrust, getting you closer to your end.

“No,” Keigo growls. “Open your eyes.” You do so and look down into his lust-blown eyes. “Look up,” he demands. “Look at yourself getting fucked, V. Look at you take that fucking dick.”

You slowly look up into the mirror, watching the woman above you. Her tits jiggle and bounce like ripe, hanging fruit; her soft, plump body ripples as the handsome man below her fucks up into her, bringing her closer to the brink of orgasm. Her face is contorted in pleasure, her brows furrowed and lips parted as moans and gasps leave her lips. She is beautiful. And she is you.

Seeing you look so hot getting fucked like that…God, it’s too much. You dig your nails into Keigo’s shoulders and press your face into his neck, wailing from the pleasure. “Oh, fuck!” you cry out. “Fuck yes, baby, I’m gonna…gonna…oh, fuck!” Your orgasm sneaks up on you like the killer in a slasher flick and tears you up from the inside. You come apart at the seams on Keigo’s cock, clenching and throbbing around him as you cum.

Keigo is right behind you, slamming his hips sloppily into yours as he tries to chase that high, even babbling as he does. “That’s it, baby, cum on my cock,” he moans. “Fuck, fuck, fuck yeah, I’m gonna cum too!”

To get him there quicker, you begin to gently stroke his wings, starting from the wing bone to the tips of his feathers, earning a soft white and a shudder in response to your ministrations.

After a few more thrusts and a ruffle of his wings as you slide your fingers against them, Keigo’s muscles clench and he holds onto you for dear life. Ah!” he gasps as he explodes deep inside of you. You weakly moan as you feel his warm cum flood your insides, making your pussy and thighs feel wet and sticky. “Take it all,” he exhales against your chest. “Take all of me, V. It’s yours.”

You whimper and shudder against him, overcome by your and his orgasms. The aftershocks begin to set in, causing you to hold onto him as the aftermath of the sex begins to fade. After it does, you feel exhausted. Silence swells between you both despite Keigo still being inside of you. With a soft moan, he carefully slides out of you and flops onto his back.

You roll off of him and lay beside him onto the cool comforter. For a while, you just lay side by side, never saying a word. Your heavy pants turn into one, mingling with the sound of cars outside. In the silence, reality sets in: you just had sex with your best friend.

Keigo clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Uh, that was…” He trails off, trying to find the right word, but not being able to.

“Yeah,” you agree. It was fucking amazing. But also fucking strange.

Slowly, the winged blonde turns toward you, one wing moving to cover you like a feathery, crimson blanket. “Do you wanna talk about what just happened?” he asks. “‘Cause I think we should.” You don’t say anything because what can you possibly say to this?

Keigo props his cheek up on his fist, looking down at you in worry. “Do you regret it?” The moonlight illuminates the fear in his eyes. He’s scared you’ll say yes.

“No,” you immediately reply and you see relief set in. “But I don’t know where we go from here. I mean, we pretty much just ruined our friendship doin’ this.” You let out an awkward chuckle though your stomach flips at the idea.

“No shit,” he chuckles. “But if I can be honest with you, I’d rather us have done that than not. I just hope you know that everything I said to you is true: you are an amazing woman, V, and you do deserve an amazing partner like…” He stops immediately from saying whatever he is going to say.

“Like who? You?” you joke. You look up at him and snort at your own joke…but he isn’t laughing. He looks conflicted like he’s trying hard to hide what he wants to say. Your heart leaps into your throat and your stomach does a gastric flip. “Hawks?” you quietly ask.

Finally, he speaks. “I’ve had these…feelings for you for some time now,” he confesses. “I don’t know when they started, but they just appeared one day. I had always adored you as my friend, but once I realized how much I wanted that to change, I started looking at you as the woman I wanted in my life and adored you even more.”

Under his soft yet intense gaze, you feel like you’re on fire. You lay there next to him, completely frozen, afraid of ruining this moment. “I don’t wanna spring this on you,” he continues, “and if you’re uncomfortable, you can always leave. But, V, all I want is for you to be happy and I’d be lying to your face if I said I didn’t want you to be happy with me.”

He looks nervous, playing with a silver ring on his ringed fingers. You take his hands into yours, finally feeling brave enough to state the obvious: “I feel the same,” you whisper.

Hope appears in his widened eyes, his lips twitching up into a smile. “So?” he coaxes. “Are you down for this?”

It now occurs to you that all of this time you’ve been searching for the one on dating apps and in the streets when all you had to do was look right beside you at the one person you would’ve never suspected. Or expected. And it could be possible that things won’t work out, but it’s also possible that Hawks could be the best thing that ever happened to you. And you want to find out. You don’t care what happens. You just wanna enjoy this with him. “Okay,” you giggle. “Yeah…let’s give this a shot.”

With a happy smile, Keigo leans in and presses a joyful kiss to your lips, cupping your face in his warm, calloused hands. You giggle, filled with giddiness. But then that happiness is stumped when your stomach rudely begins growling.

“That’s the weed talking,” he laughs, raising his brows humorously at you. “How about we end tonight with that takeout, some more cuddling, and a round two, hm?” He takes your hands and presses two kisses to your knuckles that travel down to your pussy, making it throb impatiently.

“That sounds perfect to me,” you purr before leaning up to kiss him again.

You never do make it to round two. The weed fights back after you chomp down on fried chicken and Hawks’ snack stash in his kitchen, causing you both to drift off to sleep snuggled against each other. But you don’t mind because being snuggled up underneath him in his bed, feeling the softness of his wings wrapped around you, is the most intimate thing you could ask for.

And the next morning, in the golden light of dawn pouring in through the balcony to air out the smell of weed, he makes up for it by fucking you senseless into the afternoon.

Yeah. You definitely made the right decision.

THE END.

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #black coded reader #my fic shit #bnha smut #hawks x black reader #hawks x black!reader #hawks x y/n

92 notes · View notes

ph4ngz · 2 years ago

Note

I’m so obsessed with your lust quirk fics they’re so good 😮‍💨 could you do one w todoroki?

It's purring. (This came straight out of my pussy I won't even sugarcoat it, literally one of the horniest experiences of my life)

Lust quirk w/ Shoto!

↑ Contains; ProHero!Shoto x fem!reader, aphrodisiac themes, begging, choking (hardly), no condom, no prep, reader is a terrible neighbour, shamelessly desperate Shoto :D

4.5k+

/-/-/-/

An oddly patterned series of knocks upon your apartment's front door disturbs you from your nightly routine and you sigh, irritated due to the timing, the fact that you were halfway through changing into your sleepwear, and finally due to the fact that you'd just made sure every light was out only to now turn them back on again.

"Oh, what the hell..."

There's no way you can answer the door right now! You look down at your bare legs. Hell no, even if you weren't clad in only panties and a shirt, you still didn't have any makeup on. Before you can shrug it off and continue changing, pretend you're not home and snuggle up in your fresh sheets, another string of knocks sound. Somehow, they seem a little more desperate than before?

"Ugh, hold on, jeez." you complain to yourself whilst flinging your pyjama bottoms to the floor agitatedly, then push your oversized T-shirt down to cover your exposed lower half and expertly navigate your way through the dark, too stubborn to flick any switches and help yourself. Hopefully this is just a package being delivered?

The moment you unlock and pull back the door, concern draws itself upon your features.

"Todoroki?"

The slumped figure before you, partially blocking the yellowish lighting from out in the hallway, straightens almost immediately at the sound of his name being called as if he hadn't knocked in the first place, eyes shaded by a hooded, lustful gaze directed your way. Something's wrong, obviously. Your friend and coworker is usually so calm and composed.

Your worried stare slowly travels downward and holy shit he’s unbuttoning his shirt. You can see his abs. His defined, beautiful abs. The ones that prove the strength he worked so hard to obtain during his hero training. Wait, he’s not injured is he…?

"A-Are you hurt?" You blurt out, training your eyes anywhere else but his body. Man, this feels illegal.

Is he HURT? Why would he come to you and not the hospital anyway!?

"Y/n-" the hero begins, pausing once he clocks your current attire. Todoroki's eyebrows bow all of a sudden and he practically collapses against the door frame, an arm coming up to shield his forehead as his cheeks puff out with a long, uncontrolled exhale.

Your mouth opens, but you doubt you'd be able to correctly respond to the second bout of hurried words currently falling from his own, so you keep it closed tightly.

"Oh, you look so fucking hot okay—" He breathes out, closing his bicolour eyes. The unexpected statement, although a dizzying compliment to yourself, seems as though it's a problem for him. You don’t miss the way his other hand starts to wave his shirt back and forth from his chest, using it as a makeshift fan.

Also, you'd been ready for bed not even five minutes ago, bare faced and tired as all hell, in what world would your appearance be considered as 'hot'!? Alright, this is seriously confusing. And you're stood here in your underwear! ... In front of... Hah, oh.

Blushing harder than a drunken man, you take it upon yourself to grab a flustered Todoroki's wrist and drag him into your dark apartment, shutting the front door so that the both of your forms are visible in the moonlight filtering through a large window only, it's pearly glow illuminating each and every one of your features.

Of course, he didn't let that happen without a "fuck, don't- don't grab me like that I-", but that doesn't mean anything serious, right?

Whipping your head around to face the poor guy, you raise your voice a little as you ask: "Okay, calm down. Stop stuttering for a sec, can you take your time and tell me what's wrong?"

Only a frustrated groan can be heard in return.

Then, out of nowhere, his mouth is forced onto your own and the mix between a pleased moan and a confused yelp that escapes you is something to be embarrassed about. Your face feels as if it's melting, the way his tall frame bends to reach you slightly and his newfound grip on your waist overheating you. You don't have time to decide whether or not you should kiss back as Todoroki soon separates himself and cuts your next hurried words off.

"Should we be doing thi—"

"I need you, I need you, it's so,"

His pleading stops to then continue into the crook of your neck, which you definitely did not give him access to. The tingling sensation his heavy hands leave behind as they're rubbing up and down over your hips sends you to heaven and back.

"So frustrating... I know we're friends and I really hate myself for ruining us, I swear, I'll never speak to you again Y/n, just please touch me. Anywhere you want." Todoroki's hushed, whiney voice alone is enough to make you moan, in fact it does. The hero's thick fingers slide beneath the handles of your panties, rolling them down on both sides with the movement for easy removal if you let him.

"You're moaning now oh fuck, nngh, I can't take this much longer. It hurts."

The words vibrate over your neck and he soon begins to leave openmouthed kisses on the heated skin, breathing heavier than ever. God, it feels so good to hear him beg for you, to experience everything you've ever wanted. But should you be feeling this right now? You've heard rumours of a certain "Lust Villain" around your agency enough times, and there's no denying their existence after what's just happened.

You begin to interrogate the derailed hero, removing him from you when you speak.

“Have you fought any villains today?”

Your fingers are suddenly in Todoroki’s two-tone hair, making it messier than it was before. He hums a low mmph and tries his best to give you an answer.

“I was- I have. They shot me with something,”

You can’t imagine how surprised you look as his eager hands find your asscheeks, ashamed of the slutty moans that flow straight from your chest.

“You said, hah, that you were in pain yeah?”

He squeezes, harshly. Gritting your teeth in order to control your voice, you force yourself to focus on his instead. It’s not until the texture of his jeans and the cold metal zip tickles your palm do you notice that he hasn’t spoken until now.

Holy shit, when did he take your hand?

“Right here, you can feel how hard I am, right?” Todoroki presses his forehead to yours, his body heat immediately making itself apparent on your skin.

He’s pushing your hand harder against his crotch, eyes closed whilst his other free hand is still cupping the soft flesh right underneath your ass. You can make out the distinct outline of his cock even through the thick denim covering, restricting it.

It’s instant relief when you dare to give an experimental rub with the heel of your palm, and the hero makes it very clear.

“Ah~” He whines deeply, feeling every drop of precum soak and stain his underwear.

The debauched sound causes your walls to clench straight away, and you give not even a second thought about helping him out. Wow, your resolve totally just threw itself out of the window.

Todoroki lets you drag him by the arm once again, this time with your bedroom in mind, although he doesn’t wait to cage your smaller form between himself and the kitchen counter. His hips are already nudging into your ass before you know it, and all you can do is lean forward over the solid marble and hide your flushed face. Then, he snakes his muscular arms around your waist, holding you closer with every thrust.

This is getting you so wet, pussy slicked up by your arousal and it hasn’t even been touched yet. His restrained dick is rock hard against you, twitching and jolting under his clothes.

The heat of your cheeks must be making your eyes water, because it’s getting increasingly difficult to see through the gaps of your fingers each time he occasionally grabs your hips to slam them back into his.

“Shiiiiit,”

Your glossy eyes widen a fraction at the aggressive growl emitting from behind you. He’s trying to hold back, you can tell.

Soft ah’s and oh’s disrupt the midnight silence, both of you unable to contain them. Until—

“Ohhhhh God… M' so sorry, I can’t wait any longer, you’re on the pill right?”

You respond with a cute, pathetic sniffle and a nod, still covering your face. The curve of your back arching even more once he stops moving, the lack of friction making you feel empty.

Without a single word, Todoroki swiftly tugs your panties down halfway and you cross your arms over the counter to nestle your head even lower. It’s awfully silent other than his laboured breathing and the jingle of his belt being unbuckled. The suspense is fucking killing you.

Faster and faster, he’s fucking his large hand to his current view: you, legs shaking and back arched, covered tits smushed into the cold marble. His brainwashed mind travels from ‘how far can her legs spread’ to ‘sliding along the counter must’ve been making her nipples so hard’. A slight glint of moonlight reflecting off of your leaking cunt catches his attention.

“Uhhhhh…” Drawing out his delicious moan caused by the sight, his upper body almost collapses atop of yours, but luckily he catches himself on the counter.

You jump when his middle finger unexpectedly parts your lower lips by dragging a quick line between them, halfheartedly checking in case you’re not lubricated enough as if you aren’t already drenched. Your clit pulses due to the fleeting stimulation, your little hole practically dripping and his quivering mouth opens with a silent moan.

“How- How are you this wet?” Todoroki’s in disbelief as he studies the thick coating of your slick around his finger, but seemingly insatiable desire quickly overpowers it.

The desperate hero sucks off every trace of your juices and doesn’t even bother to engage in further foreplay, he wouldn’t be able to cope much longer. He knows he probably should’ve gone about this in a way that’s more comfortable for you, but thinking straight is something completely foreign in this moment. Anyways, he knows you’re wetter than ever for his twitching cock. You’ll take him just fine. Right?

With serious haste, Todoroki forces his aching cock past your pussy lips and the sudden sensation paralyses you. Shock, pain and ultimate pleasure contort your facial features in ways that you’ve never seen, nor anybody else until now.

“Sh-Shoto—” you muffle loudly into the back of your forearm, inwardly panicking about your legs not being able to stay up for much longer. Todoroki’s hand frantically searches for your neck whilst he continues to push his throbbing dick inside of you. And when he finally can grab ahold of your throat, he lifts up your head to cover your mouth with his other hand.

From beside your head, he’s observing the debauched expressions that play out on your cute little face, tempting him to fuck you senseless like he currently has a choice. His palms are oddly completely different temperatures against your damp skin, definitely a side effect of his quirk. The hold around your neck is colder but isn’t uncomfortable at all, you find that the lack of air reaching your lungs is numbing the pain rippling from your core.

“So, tight, o-oh my god,” the hero groans between rapid breaths, pausing his sentence whenever your warm pussy squeezes around his pink tip too much. The further he manages to reach within your fucking guts with his long cock, the more frequent and harder his tiny thrusts are getting.

The tearing pain is starting to subside for now, your walls finally getting acquainted with his size. That is until his length enters areas totally unknown to even yourself. Your watery eyes clench shut immediately. Todoroki releases your throat as a would-be strained, guttural moan simultaneously rips from your chest, the lack of restriction from his grip causing the noise to increase in volume and heartiness.

“nnnnNGHAH!” The echoing sound is hardly muted by his palm, even when he tightens it against your plump lips halfway through. He may be completely under the influence of a lust quirk, but that doesn’t mean Todoroki’s forgotten what time of night it is. Nor about the group of people he can hear in the next apartment over.

Suddenly, he’s completely stilled behind your weak, shivering form. It takes a few seconds for you to notice that he’s stilled your body too. His previous grasp on your neck seems to have situated itself within your tangled hair, big clenched fist having yanked on a handful to steady your movements. Typical late night city ambiance and laboured, heavy inhales and exhales through your noses are the only things audible to you.

You feel the hard throbbing and twitching of his dick everywhere in your lower half during this bout of silence, the heavy pressure of it leaning into your clenching walls almost unbearable. The way he’s keeping his hips pressed to your bare asscheeks with so much strength. And how his chin is nearly resting on your shoulder, shaky fingers gripping the furthest edge of the counter just proving his intimidating size. You need him to move. Surely he must be dying to, no? He said it was painful… so why isn’t he movi-

Your feeble attempts to wiggle around within the cage of Todoroki’s muscular arms instantly make every inch of his body coil impossibly tight around your own.

“Stop, gah! moving... Listen.” his usually soft, calming voice is rough and breathy next to your heated ear. A demand.

Trying your hardest to focus, you open your tired eyes and almost zone out whilst your ears are searching for whatever he wants them to hear. There’s nothing?! You’re about to speak up, about to beg him furiously just to fucking moveeeee when you finally catch on.

Only faint, yet still noticeable if you aren’t miles away in La La Fuck Me Land. Excited teenage chatter… clinking glass bottles and… oh great. Your new neighbour. You’d previously ran into her a few times on your way home, a quick wave and a smile and whatnot. Both of you were on good terms, but the thought of being known as that type of neighbour is scaring you. What if her friends already heard your embarrassing sex noises— what if they’re all laughing at you right now, not just some random joke or celebratory cheers?

“Tch- Tchodoroki, thatsh my new neighbour.” His hold on your mouth is so strong now that your words are close to being a string of incomprehensible hums.

“Look, I wanna move so, fucking, badly. It’s literally killing me to be inside you like this, when—”

You furrow your brows in confusion when the hero pauses out of nowhere, but they soon bow pathetically once you realise his prominent abs are tensing up against your back. Your heart flutters as Todoroki hurries to rid of his pesky shirt and throws it to the tiled floor. He then practically tries to rip your own shirt off before it reaches your head, urging to grant it the same fate strewn across the floor.

The tiny movements of his cock are gonna drive you nuts, you think.

“When I can feel you dripping down my thighs and you’re making me feel so fucking hot, I, just… If I move, Y/n, you’ve gotta promise me you’ll be quiet. I can’t risk being seen exiting your home after so much noise, promise me.”

Anything.

“Promisch.”

That’s all the hero needs you to say before driving his pelvis to thump against your asscheeks, his leaking cock hardly leaving your cunt just to be rammed back inside. You manage to suck in a panicked gasp through Todoroki’s thick fingers. He’s barely started and he’s already reaching places nobody else ever has. Just how big is he?

You’re almost embarrassed by the saliva that escapes your lips and wets his palm, but if anything, he’s fucking loving it. It’s only an incentive to fuck you so much faster, harder than before, just to keep you drooling for his dick like a thirsty slut.

The pace of his thrusts increases as well as the ear ringing slapping they bring with them. You can hear everything, everything him. Only Todoroki. Every obscene squelch coming from between your legs, every ragged, shaky breath he breathes, every word that just comes tumbling out of his mouth without warning.

“Ah, you’re so slutty for me— Mmmm, god I love it so much.”

For a second there you might’ve forgotten who’s cock you’re being pounded by if you didn’t have his voice memorised. You’ve never once heard the man say such dirty words, but damn if it isn’t the best thing you’ve ever listened to.

He’s practically jackhammering into your sloppy pussy now, set on achieving only one goal: to cum. He’s been trying to keep his aching pain on a low for too long, he needs to reach his high or else he might go insane.

If Todoroki wasn’t under the influence, you’d definitely have something to say about the lack of stimulation he’s providing you. But even then, with the way he’s repeatedly bullying your cervix to no avail, you’d hardly be able to form the right words to say. It’s something about the way he’s desperately pulling on the counter with all his strength just to fuck into you, you can’t think straight enough to worry about it chipping beneath his grip.

“Lower, lower,” the hero orders and bites the shell of your ear, and you’re trying to string a coherent sentence in your foggy mind to ask him what he means before the hand tangled in your hair manoeuvres your head so that your fucked out face is smushed into the cold marble. Your back arches as far as it can, making Todoroki comb a clammy hand through his usually neat fringe whilst forcing your back down with his elbow.

Somehow, this position allows his length to brush up and down the perfect spot inside, and you don’t think you can hold another noise in with the euphoric, tingling sensation crawling all the way along your spine.

Well, that “promisch” didn’t take much to break, did it?

“Fu-u-uck!” The sudden change of volume in the room startles him and even yourself, you had no idea that you could be so vocal. You gain the courage to make worried, guilty eye contact with the hero. Let’s just say, you can’t regret your choice.

Looking at him with his back straightened, alarmed and wide eyed like a deer in headlights, fluffy two-tone locks astray and messy, a sheen of sweat glazing his forehead and threatening to drip… pastel irises almost swallowed by his dilated pupils. Pretty… so fucking pretty. The sight alone causes your already constricting walls to clench even harder around Todoroki’s jolting cock, and he wonders how the fuck you haven’t pushed all of him out yet. He can’t move with your pussy gripping him like this, but it doesn’t seem like he has to try when you say:

“Todoro-ki, I wanna cum too, p-please don’t,”

You take a deep breath of air like his dick had been taking it away from you all the is time and continue.

“Tease me… like this…”

The newer tears forming in your eyes, paired with the words you say don’t give the man any time to gather self restraint, as he’s already began to cum.

His seed paints your insides icy white, the temperature of it driving you crazy. The expression he’s wearing whilst his hot cum fills you up is something you’ll never forget. Eyebrows dipping, nose slightly scrunched, eyes clamped shut and gorgeous lips trying and failing to conceal the moan behind them.

“Nngh~haha—” a breathless, overwhelmed laugh follows the unholy sound, the intensity of his orgasm being anything but funny.

You can’t see it, but you can feel all of it. There is already so much of him coating your sensitive core. You swear it’s starting to trickle down your thigh more and more each time Todoroki's hips continue to make contact with your lower half. Warm cum being pushed in and out of your tight hole, some of it being splattered upon your kitchen tiles by the strength of his thrusts. Even with hardly any room given between you both he's still managing to fuck into you so hard, with so much power. Hunger and desire.

His legs are trembling, as are yours. You can't imagine how exhausted he must feel after enduring the symptoms of that quirk he fell victim to, draining the last of his energy to chase the insane discomfort away. You almost forgot about his situation purely because he's making you feel so damn good. You know he's using your body as an outlet, you would be a fool for thinking there's more to these circumstances than there actually is.

“Nngh, you...okay?” you ask sweetly, trying to whisper, and Todoroki dons an adoring, appreciative smirk at your attempt to look out for him even whilst being fucked stupid.

Oh, he's fine.

If he's being completely honest he doesn't know whether or not he should be thankful for today's events or if he should be pissed off fucking rotten.

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighs with his tiny smile morphing into a pleasured grimace, still slightly amused by your concern despite his current state.

Of course he's okay, you could say he's having the time of his life right now. The hero may be under the control of an aphrodisiac of some sort, and he may not be able to think straight, but he's got one thing down for sure: He wanted this— you, sober or otherwise.

You'd clearly been on his brain the moment he got attacked, and maybe the moment before that one, and the moment before that moment, even. But that doesn't mean it was that quirk urging him to fuck you, oh no. Todoroki had that part planned way before, all this is just a minor adjustment to his schedule.

“Shhhhhoto, you're so lou.......”

Are you talking to him? Anyways—

Yes, that orgasm was the most intense 15 seconds he's ever experienced, but he feels guilty for it. What if you think he's using you? Actually, that's true, but USING using you? This is what's pissing him off. He could've been jackhammering you, stone cold sober right now without a worry. You would know that he's serious about you.

But then again, he could've just gone back to his place and fucked his fist until the effects wore off. Yet he's here, fucking you to no avail. God, he wants to see how your perfect face looks when you cum so hard on his dick. Needs to rough you up and make you want him 24/7. He must. Now.

Todoroki, line of vision lowering in a lusty, irritated daze, is dragged under by a series of utterly euphoric waves as soon as his trance is shattered by the sight of your little cunt barely able to take the entirety of his fat cock even with him pressed so hard against your quivering body.

The view is making him so weak, so grateful for you. Letting his head hang for a few seconds, he forces his eyes shut in case he rushes to earn another orgasm again. He won't let himself cum unless it's with you. The pain is nothing more than a challenge to him, just a means to see how long he can last until he can't take anymore—

“Fuck! Ple-hease, please!” you're literally sobbing now, too tired to face the hero.

Shit! Why're you being so loud!?

...It seems that you're not the only one who's suddenly increased the volume, either.

“Grr! Mmph, oh my fucking god,” Todoroki has been getting louder this entire time, had you tried to tell him just then? His own growling and groaning through gritted teeth is causing his ears to ring after zoning out for so long.

Honestly, fuck the neighbours, either of you could give less of a shit at this point, you're too lost in the feeling.

On impulse, he snakes an unsteady hand around your hips to immediately rub soft, weak circles on your puffy clit. His fingers are burning hot to the touch which is only increasing the sensitivity of the bud. Not to mention the perfect amount of pressure he's rubbing you with just increases the pleasure tenfold.

The tears rolling down your face and gathering on the marble beneath eventually soak into your hair, but you can't control yourself with him pounding your poor pussy this fast and—

“HUH! Shit, shit, shit!”

You bite down the urge to scream in pleasure when Todoroki quickly leans over to busy his other hand with one of your tits, rolling and flicking your nipple, simultaneously keeping you steady by forcefully pulling your body flat against his broad, sticky chest.

Yeah that’s right, atta girl, he thinks to himself.

Now that he's stimulating two of the most vulnerable parts of you, you begin to lose it. You're pleading, begging the man to “keep going, keep going, don't stop!”, and you're convinced that if he does stop, takes away your detrimental release, you might even die.

“Cum with me,” the feral hero demands with that irresistible voice into the crook of your lolling neck, “cum with me, baby.”

Jesus, fuck! This is so intense! So close, so close, so close-

“Cumming—!”

All you can manage is a tiny, strained pathetic cry before crashing down in his hold, shivering body nearly paralysed with overstimulation as you squirt, helplessly tensing up with Todoroki's fingers still toying with you.

He’s rubbing you through your orgasm just as his own hits him like a brick.

“Hmph, hmph, huh, Y/n!”

The man can hardly fucking breathe as the high courses through his veins, and he has to squeeze you hard due to the sheer amount of pleasure from watching you squirt all over his fingers, and relief from that damn aching pain swiftly fading away.

“…I wanna take you out for dinner tomorrow.” (Sober.)

“No, no it’s okay Shoto. You.. you don’t have to make it up to me.”

“Make it up to you? It’s not like I was using you, I could’ve chosen anybody else. Notice how I’m not apologising for that specifically.”

“Do you really mean that?”

You’re even more shocked to the core to see a few tears sliding down Todoroki’s cheeks when you crane your head around in disbelief.

“Um! Are you okay, still?”

The serious grasp on your torso lightens, and you can feel a messy head of hair pressed into the side of your face. He grins and blesses you with an uncharacteristic wheezy chuckle, absolutely fucked out for the night.

Neither of you have to say a word after that as you help each other clean up, even though you’re both desperate to get the hell into bed and pass out.

A comfortable, happy silence.

/-/-/-/

“I’ll pick you up at five, that sound good?” Todoroki says as he’s on his way out of your apartment.

You shout excitedly from the bathroom, soaking in the bubble bath he so adorably prepared for you before you woke up, “Yup!”

Your agreement paints yet another relieved smile on the hero’s face whilst he end the conversation with an “alright”. He feels like a total loser grinning like this, he admits to himself, making sure your front door is shut properly before spinning on his heel.

Oh, but that smile doesn’t linger for too long.

He’s met with your next door neighbour, face to face. She’s holding her keys, in the position she was in before she spotted his recognisable face, about to unlock her door to put down her grocery bags.

Todoroki’s expressions falls instantly, morphing into a terrified grimace.

“I will literally pay you—”

“I won’t say a word, take my details if you don’t believe me.” She offers him a soft, trustworthy look.

‘Phew’ may as well have been written on the man’s forehead. But wait!

“Don’t… Don’t say anything to her, okay?” He gestures to your door, knowing full well that you’re at peace with the situation after forgetting about your audience, relaxed in your little bubble bath without a worry in the world.

“Understood.” She nods politely.

“Have a nice day.”

/-/-/-/

#bnha shoto todoroki #mha shoto #shoto x you #shoto todoroki #shoto smut #todoroki x reader #mha todoroki #todoroki shouto #bnha todoroki #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut

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blouisparadise · 5 months ago

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Upon request, today we have a rec list of fics with roadtrips! This is the perfect summer rec list, so we hope you check out these incredible fics and show them some love. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Enjoy The Ride | Not Rated | 11,103 words

“Stop sulking and get up. I have a proposition to make.” “Niall?” Louis questioned. “Do you think I should put glow in the dark stars on my ceiling?” He looked over and found Niall giving him an unimpressed look. “So, no?” Louis asked. “No stars?” “We’re going on a road trip,” Niall stated. Louis looked back at his starless ceiling and waved farewell to Niall. “Cool. Have fun!” “No, you idiot.” Niall let out a frustrated sigh. “You, me, Liam, and Harry.” Louis glanced over to Niall and back to the ceiling. “Who’s Harry?”

2) Kiss Me In Your Chevrolet | Explicit | 11,569 words

"Yes, Lou?" Harry asked, rubbing his tired eyes. A gust of wind came through the open windows, sending chills down Harry's arms as a light rain began falling outside. He closed his eyes again and let his head fall back to the couch arm rest. "Can we go there?" Louis asked, probably pointing somewhere. Harry opened his eyes and felt his heart jump in his chest, a magazine page a couple of inches away from his face. Startled, Harry closed his eyes and breathed heavily, trying to collect himself. Harry blinked a few times to focus his eyes on the page Louis still held in front of his nose. "You want to go to the Grand Canyon?" He furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to the left to look at Louis' face.

3) Love Is Like This; Not A Heartbeat, But A Moan | Explicit | 13,150 words

Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

"He hates this, more than anything in the world he hates this. His title, his rank, his DNA. Unchangeable. Fated. And then there’s Harry, born to be unobjectively superior to Louis and all other O’s. Unlike other A’s, Harry doesn’t wear his alpha-ness very well. He’s clumsy with it, like walking around in a pair of shoes a size too big. His life is defined by uncertainty and tentativeness, and those are definitely not qualities alphas should have. Sometimes, when Louis ponders it for too long, he thinks that maybe Harry resents being an A just as much as Louis resents being an O."

4) All I Want Is To Fall With You | Mature | 16,524 words

The pair looked at each other for a few moments before Harry moved forward and gathered Louis in an unexpected hug. It was nice, but why the fuck was an unknown alpha hugging him? Maybe an even better question would be why did Louis feel so secure in this stranger's arms? Harry quickly let go and Louis felt something pull at him. "Sorry," Harry said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Shit, um, that just seemed a natural response for some reason. I’m so sorry." Louis smiled up at the alpha. "It's okay. Thanks again, Harry." "You're welcome. I know it's horrible weather, and less than optimal circumstances, but this was a brilliant meet-cute." What the fuck was a meet-cute?

5) These Roads We Stumble Down | Explicit | 18,233 words

Harry picks up a hitchhiker in Oxford, and it's a long ride to Glasgow.

6) We’re Not Who We Used To Be | Explicit | 30,611 words

“Harry…” Louis’ voice catches in his throat, thick with tears threatening to fall out, so he coughs to clear it before trying again. “Harry is Liam’s best man?” “You didn’t know?” Harry is standing at the entrance of the garage, mouth slightly open and face pulled together. He sets his bag on the ground and puts his hands on his hips. When he does that, he looks just like the Harry that Louis remembers (and loves, he thinks with an aching heart). “I’m sure I mentioned it,” Liam says, but Louis can tell he’s lying by the way he chews on his lower lip and twists his fingers together. “You’re all a bunch of dick heads, I’m getting in the car.” Louis isn’t sure if he’s being unreasonable. He has no idea what the protocol is when your ex-boyfriend shows up after three years and nobody bothered to give you a heads up. He’s pretty sure he’s allowed to be upset about it, even if it’s only for a bit.

7) Take The Back Roads | Explicit | 31,333 words

Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

The one where Harry and Louis are roommates who are pining over each other and all they need is a road trip down the West Coast to bring them together.

8) Bluebird | Explicit | 39,046 words

The 2,789 miles between New York and Los Angeles is a long way to go alone.

9) From Dust To Lust | Explicit | 45,437 words

From the moment Louis set eyes on the gorgeous stranger across the airport terminal, he knew the guy was trouble, which was the last thing he wanted. He wouldn’t have thought spending two days cooped up in a car travelling from the Australian Outback to the East Coast would change his mind. It’s funny how things work out.

10) Made For Lovin' You | Explicit | 52,637 words

“I’m in,” is all Louis receives. He blinks a few times, making sure he’s reading this right. “For real?” he asks, just to be a hundred percent sure. “Yes,” pops up. “How do you wanna pursue?” The alpha adds, like he’s on a special mission or something. “I’m gonna call us a cab to go to mine. Once I know it’s here, I’ll leave and join you there,” Louis explains. “I’ll text you to go around five minutes before it arrives, so it doesn’t look suspicious, and our friends don’t notice us leaving together.” “Noted.” So Louis does, and ten minutes later, he’s sat in the backseat of a cab, next to Harry Styles, the person he hates the most but unfortunately still finds attractive. They’re on their way to fuck in Louis’ flat. Splendid.

11) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 59,877 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

12) Ghost Note Symphony | Explicit | 96,426 words

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago. It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to. That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

13) Nothing Worsens, Nothing Grows | Explicit | 102,528 words | Sequel

Another roadtrip AU featuring Harry as the misunderstood hipster, Louis as the bitter psych major, Liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and Niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp fic recs #blp #roadtrip au

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allwaswell16 · 17 days ago

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[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic fics by...

- crinkle-eyed-boo -

[1]

"There’s just...not a single significant moment in my life that he hasn’t been there for. And...he would say the exact same thing about me, you know? He knows me inside and out...no one knows me like he does. That’s why it hurt so much when he said he didn’t know me.”

“You know he didn’t say that to hurt you, right? He was telling you how he felt about your addiction. Not how he felt about you . Do you know what I saw that day, Louis? I saw someone fighting for you with everything he had.”

“I’m just...I’m scared that I’ve fucked things up too badly. I really hurt him, you know? I feel sick over it.”

“You have to forgive yourself, Louis,” James says gently. “You can’t carry that guilt around with you. You’ll never heal that way. You and Harry will have to work together to build that trust back up...but you have to be willing to take the first step. He’s already laid everything on the table for you. It’s your turn.”

[2]

“Did you make this snowman?” Harry calls after him.

“No,” the man clips definitively.

“Well then, who did?” Harry presses. “Someone had to have built it. ’Cause it wasn’t there a second ago. It just appeared from out of nowhere.”

The man stops.

“Out of nowhere?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Nowhere,” Harry nods.

The breath is knocked out of Harry’s chest as the man turns and approaches him. He’s shorter than Harry is, slim yet scrappy looking in his raggedy blue velvet frock coat with black fur trim. A black stove-top hat is perched on his head, shaggy brown hair curling out from under it. His face is sharp and angular, from his defined cheekbones to the perfect slope of his nose. He looks tired, as if he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, but his blue eyes are bright and curious.

He’s the most beautiful man Harry’s ever seen.

[3]

“But you can’t just come here,” Harry protests. “You can’t just waltz in here after all this time and expect to what? Just slide back into your old life like nothing happened? That you would be welcomed back with open arms? It doesn’t work that way, Louis.”

“Harry,” Niall cuts in. “He didn’t–”

“Listen up, you curly-haired cunt,” Louis says furiously. “If you think for one second that I took coming here lightly, then you clearly never knew me at all. Did you know that I’ve been back in New York for more than a month, Harry? A month! And what have I been doing in that time? Walking around this city on fucking eggshells, terrified that I could run into you at any moment. Fuck you for thinking any of this is easy. There’ve been giant chunks of this city I haven’t dared going near because of you. Who can live like that? Who?”

“But you–”

“‘But you’ nothing,” Louis snaps. “The answer is no one. No one can live like that. I can’t live like that. I deserve to have a life here too, you know! Fuck, I’m sorry if my being back in New York inconveniences you, Harry. Believe me, it hasn’t been great for me either! But I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, so you might as well get used to it. I’m not going to hide or give you free rein of Manhattan just to avoid maybe running into you, got it? Not anymore. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Harry, as much as you like to think it does. Grow the fuck up.”

[4]

“Will you be drinking tonight?”

Harry tries not to visibly cringe. The boy is at a bar, for fuck’s sake, of course he’s going to be drinking. The boy sits up straight, his blue eyes laser focused on Harry’s as a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Yes, Daddy, I will,” he nods decisively.

Harry’s cock twitches as he sucks in a sharp breath. He clears his throat, raking his fingers through his curls as he feels heat rushing to his cheeks.

“Erm, what?” Harry manages to croak, trying not to squirm too much under the boy’s heated gaze. “I mean...what?”

The boy finally breaks and just fucking giggles, his eyes crinkling shut; the sight does nothing to help the situation brewing in Harry’s jeans.

“I’ll have the ‘Yes, Daddy, I Will,’” the boy grins, holding up the menu and pointing to the line near the top of the menu. “It’s just a twist on an Old-Fashioned, right?”

Answers below...

[1] Own the Scars

“But I don’t belong here,” Louis insists. “Why do you say that?” James asks. “These people are all drug addicts and alcoholics,” Louis shrugs. Something sparks in James’ eyes. “And you’re not?”

Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

[2] There's Such a Lot of World to See

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Harry asks, thumbing at Louis’ hip. “Like what?” Louis asks breathlessly. “Like you’ve seen a ghost or summat,” Harry muses. “You did it all the time the other day and you did it just now.” Louis swallows hard, studying him intently. “You remind me of someone,” Louis says softly, tucking a curl behind Harry’s ear. “Someone I lost.”

Louis has seen a great many things throughout his travels in time and space, but only one he can’t explain: He keeps meeting the same boy, who says the same thing to him each time. The boy should be impossible.

Maybe he is.

A love story that defies the boundaries of space and time. Doctor Who AU.

[3] Mine Would Be You

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

[4] No Bunny But You

“So you saw the bunnies then?” Harry clarifies, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, those were a bit of a surprise,” Liam huffs. “I mean, they definitely weren’t part of what we commissioned from him, but they’re kind of cute, right?” Harry sputters a laugh. “What?” Liam asks, the furrow in his brow deepening. “They are cute little bunnies!” “Cute little bunnies that are fucking,” Harry snickers. “What?” Liam gasps. “Liam,” Harry says, trying to school his face into a serious expression. “Those bunnies are fucking.”

A slow Monday night behind the bar turns into something else entirely thanks to a new mural and a new customer.

@crinkle-eyed-boo

#happy birthday Kim!#crinkle-eyed-boo #ficrec #authorrec #1dficvillage #1dsquad #hlcreators #hljournal #1dficlibrary

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autisticlancemcclain · 2 years ago

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“You know I love you, right?”

Keith smiles. He doesn’t stop his hands from their constant brushes through his boyfriend’s hair, doesn’t shift or move. Lance stays where he is, too, full weight on Keith’s body, head pillowed on his chest, moving slightly with every breath.

“Yes,” Keith says. “I know.”

“Good.” Keith feels the rumble of Lance’s voice in his ribcage, the puffs of his breath on his bare skin. “‘Cause I tease you, a lot, so I wasn’t sure if you knew.”

“I do. I know.” He pauses as he runs his fingers over the shell of Lance’s ear, tracing the scar on his skull, before gently tapping his finger three times. For a while Lance simply breathes, sinking into Keith’s touch, then he shifts slightly, turning brown eyes up to meet Keith’s.

“How do you know, though? Like if you had to define it.”

Keith leans down slightly to press a kiss to his freckled nose, just to watch it wrinkle. It makes him grin. “I just do, Lance. You say my name like you love me.”

The answer doesn’t seem to placate Lance completely, but enough that he sighs, putting his head back down on Keith’s chest and reaching over blindly to pull their blankets up to his chin.

“Okay.”

Keith says nothing for a long while, humming to himself, enjoying the feeling of Lance’s soft skin under his hands, the weight of his body pressing him into the mattress. It’s a relief after a long day, a balm to his exhausted muscles and tired brain.

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason.”

Keith tugs a strand of Lance’s hair in admonishment, not enough to hurt, but he grumbles anyway.

“Try again.”

“Maybe I don’t love the man who hurts me so,” Lance pouts, sticking out his bottom lip and rubbing his scalp like it actually hurts.

Keith rolls his eyes. Lance grins, then sighs.

“Just — someone said something, at training. Kind of huffed and said something about how annoying it was that we still don’t like each other.”

Keith snorts. “Well, you did shoot me.”

“I was justified! You were being irritating!” Lance shifts, moving to his belly so he can look at Keith properly, glaring. “And I put my bayard on stun! It barely hurt!”

Love of his life or not, Keith loves getting this man so riled up.

“Yeah, the giant bruise I have says otherwise.”

There is no giant bruise.

But messing with Lance is funny.

“You are not fucking bruised!”

Before Lance can get too enraged and start stripping him down to make sure, Keith laughs, giving up the game and grabbing Lance’s wrists. He pulls him forward so he loses his balance, arms around Keith’s neck, barely managing to catch himself before their heads smack together, face inches from Keith’s.

“You worry too much,” Keith whispers, nosing his way down Lance’s cheeks, peppering kisses as he goes. “I don’t give a shit what anyone else says. The whole point of keeping them in the dark is so that I can have you —” he bites Lance’s earlobe gently, pulling it slightly, making the Cuban’s breath hitch — “all to myself.”

“Still,” Lance tries to insist, but Keith can physically feel his resolve falling away, feel him melting into Keith’s touch. “It bothers me that people think I can do anything but love you. You’re — I dunno. You’re everything to me. You make me feel like I can keep going.”

Keith can’t help his smile, and he knows Lance feels it, pressed into the junction of his neck. He kisses slightly there, and Lance turns his head to give him access, slides his hands into Keith’s hair as he works a mark into dark skin.

“That’s gay,” Keith mumbles, as fondly as he can.

It takes a second for Lance to clock Keith’s words, too focused on the besotted sound of them, but he huffs when he does, shoving Keith away and glaring at him.

Keith bursts out laughing.

“You’re the worst,” Lance says, but soon he’s smiling, too. Keith leans in and kisses that smile, because he can and because he wants to.

“I know.”

“Jerk. I’m divorcing you.”

Keith hums, tugging him back down under the covers, wrapping him back into the position he was in earlier. “You won’t even let me marry you.”

“We are twenty years old,” Lance grumbles, but every time he says it he sounds less and less like he cares. “We’re not getting married at twenty years old.”

“We’ll see.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Lance settles into the silence, breathing evening again, wandering hands going still.

“I love you too, by the way,” Keith murmurs, suddenly worried that Lance doesn’t know.

He feels Lance’s lips upturn, and smiles to match it.

He knows.

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rgbyshipper101 · 9 months ago

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Hello friends! Welcome to my Phic Phight Phic!

This one is for Chord @berry-berry-blu Enjoy friend!

This can be read as pitch pearl (heroic amusement) or pitch pals, whichever you prefer.

Super Is Not Having Fun

“Time’s up!”

Fun screamed as he was hauled off his bed and onto the floor. He groaned as he impacted the rug, dizzy from the unexpected fall.

“I let you have it all night and now it’s officially my turn.” Fun heard ruffling from above but was too tired to look up. “Come on, get up. You actually get to go to school on time, my other half.” Super paused his speech before huffing, “Don’t just lay there!”

“My face hurts.” Why does he do this? Waking up peacefully for once would be nice. “You got a thing seeing me like this?”

“Oh hush you, you and I both know you would have slept through your alarm.” Fun felt hands glide under his armpits and braced himself as he was lifted onto his butt. “No need to be dramatic.”

“That’s your job,” Fun said, annoyed, “and stop stealing my bedsheet when I’m sleeping on it.”

“Tch, no can do I’m afraid. You would not have woken up otherwise.” He hugged the sheet tighter to himself. “Besides, this is also mine and we must share it accordingly every twelve hours per our agreement.”

Fun grimaced at the reminder. The blanket was too hot to use in this heatwave so Fun had to rely on his ceiling fan, his standing fan, and his sheet. Well, their sheet, which Super didn’t even need.

He grumbled as he stood up before Super. “Why are you so adamant about this stupid sheet?” Fun grabbed it with two fingers. “You don’t sleep. You’re not cold since you radiate frost like a freezer. It gets caught when you’re out there fighting the ‘evil-doers.’ I don’t understand your problem, dude.”

Super snatched it back, tying the ends around his neck. “There’s no problem. My cape is part of my persona. It lets the public know how I’m their full-time superhero!” He slapped his hands to his hips, puffed up his chest, and grinned at Fun.

“They think you’re weird,” Fun snorted. “As do I. You don’t need to wear it. It doesn’t define your superheroness.”

“It is a requirement!” Super looked frantic, eyes wide and mouth askew. “It is a necessary component to my identity! The fact that I have to give it to you for half the time doesn’t show the citizens my true intentions.”

Fun rubbed his cheek and gave a big yawn. “Ugh, it’s too early for this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, you irritating individual? What kind of ludicrous statement is that?”

“Chill dude,” Fun glared, annoyed, “I told you you don’t need it. Now who’s the one being dramatic?”

“The horrendous heat must be clogging your brain since you could just, I don’t know, turn off your fan?”

“I need both and the sheet!” Fun jabbed his finger into Super’s chest. “You and I both know we can’t fall asleep without it, breeze or no breeze.”

“You humans and your sleep rituals. Can’t you use another sheet from the linen closet?”

“Why should I if this one is perfectly good?”

“Are you that lazy?” Super yelled, exasperated.

“I like mine. And what’s your excuse then?”

“I prefer the one that I’ve used all my life.”

“You gotta be kidding me. This is bogus, man. Why can’t you just let it be?”

“Why should I?”

“Cause you don’t need this, like, cotton material tied around your neck to showcase your status to the world.”

“Yes I do!”

“Why then?” Fun was in Super’s face at his point. “Why is it so important to you?”

“It just is!”

“Why, Super?” Fun grabbed his shoulders. “Why is it so important to wear it outside and worrying if it gets stained or ruined or, or whatever!” He grabbed the ends and untied it. “Gimme this-”

“No!” Super twirled around and Fun lost his balance, falling on the floor again.

“Ugh, what the hell? I don’t need to go through this twice in one day!”

“It’s mine now!” Super growled, shaking. “It’s my turn! I need it! I-” He shook his head and gritted his teeth.

“This is getting silly now, dude. Stop being ridiculous and gimme the stupid-”

“It’s not stupid!” Super flew up into the air. “That’s it! I don’t want to hear this anymore! I-I’m leaving!” He curled his cape tighter around himself. “Don’t bother me anymore, human!”

“Wait!” But it was too late. Super already turned intangible and left. Fun sighed. “Great.”

xxx

“Whoa!” Fun nearly missed getting knocked six ways to Sunday from Technus’ staff. He finally got the mad scientist’s ghost powers immobilized but he didn’t account for brute strength.

“Nice try, child, but I still got power over you. I, Technus, shall defeat you and Boy Wonder without any extra abilities!”

“Not on your afterlife!” Fun snatched him with the Jack-o-Nine Tails and threw him to the side, the staff twirling in the air before landing a few feet away. Fun sucked it up in the thermos.

“No! You are not winning again! This is impossible. You are still weak from before.”

“Tell me about it,” Fun grumbled. Skulker got him good earlier. It took him two hours to defeat him. Tucker and Sam are still in school and he didn’t want to drag them down with him. He was used to skipping.

He thought he wouldn’t have to keep doing this anymore or at least during the day. But he had no choice.

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed Super’s buttons. He’s been missing for days. Fun didn’t think any of it, thinking he just had to cool down. Video games, super slushies, and movie binges occupied his time besides stupid homework. He even grabbed the spare sheet on the second night. But three days?

Fun dodged another ectoblast, jumping in an alley to regroup. Too many ghosts caught wind of Super’s disappearance and are using it to their advantage. Fun’s not half-ghost anymore. He can’t keep up with it without super healing and sleep deprivation. His parents try to help but he has to make sure they don’t get captured or wasted. It’s starting to take a toll. And he was worried…

The air next to him started to condense and Fun quickly aimed the thermos towards it and powered it on. Technus screamed in surprise and disbelief as he was sucked in, his scream echoing until Fun placed the cap on.

Fun collapsed against the wall in exhaustion, breathing heavy. Finally. He thinks that was the last one. Hopefully.

His watch beeped and he winced, peeking over to it. 3:00pm. He skipped half a day today. Damn, he’s in big trouble. Oh well, not like his teachers weren’t used to it already. Fun clicked it off before standing up. Too late to go back now, and there is one ghost he still needs to catch.

Now where to look…

xxx

In hindsight, this should’ve been the first place to look. But Fun thought he’d be somewhere else like practicing in the Far Frozen or checking up on Dora. He didn’t expect him to be in his lair the whole time. But no other ghost had seen him.

Super’s lair had a purple door like everyone else except unlike everyone else he kept the inside simple since he hardly used it. It housed a generic room for rest with a queen-sized bed, TV, small kitchenette for ectoplasm and bathroom with first aid kits and medicine. The bathroom was mostly for Fun’s benefit since he usually stayed with Super during their visits.

Usually.

Fun parked the Specter Speeder next to the entrance and knocked Shave and a Haircut on the door. Silence. He fidgeted, getting uncomfortable when Super didn’t answer. He knows he’s there since he can see the lock in place.

Maybe he doesn’t know it’s not a threat? “Super dude,” Fun called, “it’s me. Open up.”

Nothing happened although Fun thought he heard some rustling. “Please?”

Fun waited outside for five minutes, getting more anxious as time went on before he heard a click. He scrambled out of his seat before grabbing the door handle, missing it a few times. He slowly opened it to a dim room lit by Super’s glow and the TV.

Super himself was laid down, facing away from him and surrounded by plushies. The room was immaculate as always with everything put away neatly and cleaned to a nth degree.

Fun swallowed as he jumped inside and locked the door. Did he not move from the bed, or did he just clean up really well? Usually Fun would give a quip to make Super laugh, but he didn’t think it would go over well. This wasn’t like him.

The ghost’s back was tense and hair messed up. His arms were around himself, as if trying to hide himself from the outside world. Super didn’t move even when Fun came in, choosing to remain motionless. It was starting to unnerve Fun, not used to the serious atmosphere.

Fun didn’t know whether to walk towards him or not, but Super decided that for him. He slowly sat up, still facing away. He rubbed his head and slid it down to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I kept it too long, I know,” Super said, picking up the white sheet covering him and folded it. “Here.” He held it out.

Fun watched him for a minute before walking forward. Reaching a hand out, he closed Super’s fist over the sheet instead of taking it. Super was startled enough to look over at him and Fun saw green-rimmed green eyes filled with sadness. Fun held his breath, he never saw him like this. This couldn’t just be about the sheet, could it?

“Dude-Super-I don’t care about who’s turn it is with the sheet. Have you been here the last few days? It’s not like you to just leave. Even if we argue you’re still beating ghosts to a pulp, exercising your alliteration.” He was glad he was able to stay in class enough to learn about figurative language. Now he can tell what Super’s witticisms are. “Did I do something?” Fun mumbled, quietly. The last thing he wanted was to actually hurt Super.

The ghost shook his head. “Just thinking. And watching Ghost News.” He grimaced. “Honestly these fellows are much more uncivilized than the scoundrels I fight everyday.”

“Well dude,” Fun said, sitting himself next to Super, “that’s why you’re in the Human World since it is more civilized. But since you haven’t, and I know you loathe staying here for long periods of time, what’s the occasion?”

“No occasion. Just replenishing the reserves.”

“Yeah sure, I can believe that. But only if it were for one day, and based on the last time I saw you, there might be another reason.” Fun’s eyes softened, holding Super’s guarded ones. “I was worried.”

Super broke, blinking rapidly and biting his lip. He slapped a hand to his face, the smack resonating between them. “I just,” he sighed, “needed time alone.

“I’m sorry for acting dramatic but…I guess I got a little too defensive. My cape,” he pulled it close to him, “It not only helps my purpose, but I use it as a base for who I once was before we split and as a connection between me and you.

“I know it’s silly and I can use anything else but I chose this. And it makes me feel like I can do my job and be a part of my family-” he winced, “well, past-family. I guess I just liked pretending a little too much. No need to worry your little raven head over it. I’ll just try harder to forget.”

“No,” Fun grabbed Super’s arms, turning him around gently to face him, “I’m the one that should be apologizing. I didn’t realize how much it meant to you. I should’ve expected something since we have a whole system established. And you have a family. It just shifted a few degrees. Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and me are still here for you, dude.” Fun pulled Super close and wrapped his arms around him, fingers threaded through white hair and one hand clenching his suit. “Why do you think I told you to have us go by ‘Super’ and ‘Fun’ and not ‘Danny’ and ‘Phantom?’ Cause we’re both named Danny!”

Super didn’t reply but Fun felt him encircle his waist, burying his face in Fun’s shoulder. Fun rubbed circles in his back and kissed his temple, berating himself mentally on not coming sooner. He hated when someone he loved was hurting. He never wanted Super to feel alone. One of the reasons they split was so they could have and confide in each other.

“You can keep your cape. I can pass out and sleep like the dead with a sweater as a covering.” Fun pulled back to grin at Super, “as long as I can keep my personal alarm clock.” He winked.

That pulled a watery chuckle from the superhero. “I better not hear any lip from you from now on.”

“No promises, Super-dude,” he grinned, happy to finally see life in those eyes again.

xxx

“BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!”

Fun screeched, flopping around on the bed before tumbling down, a few plushies falling on top of him. The extra pound on him blocked his view of the beaming ghost above him. He decided to spend the night with Super to hang out. Chatting and playing took up their time but Fun missed just having a night to relax and enjoy something fun. It had only been a week or so but he wasn’t used to fighting as much anymore so the break was nice.

This? Not so much.

“Rise and shine, human,” Super grinned, kicking his feet from his position on the bed. “Bright and early on this fantastic day.”

“Ugh, this is not what I meant by alarm clock,” Fun groaned, getting up. He stretched languidly before yawning wide. “Better fly me back home and to school quickly, dude. I don’t need another detention.”

Fun got dressed and brushed his teeth as Super watched TV, already up and at em like the morning ghost he was (didn’t matter if he rarely slept, he was still an early bird). Eggs and bacon were already made for him and he greedily scarfed it down with orange juice. He fluffed up his hair a bit and sighed. “Alright, done.”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s go, Soup! I don’t need Lancer to call Mom and Dad again. And I know you’re just dying to go back to work.”

“Fun, Fun, Fun,” Super tsked, wagging his finger at him. He side-eyed Fun as his mouth morphed into a sly smile. “Today is Saturday, you silly specimen.”

Silence.

Super screamed as Fun ran towards him at lightning speed and tackled him, joy in his voice for the first time in days.

#danny phantom #Phic Phight #2024 #heroic amusement #pitch pals #pitch pearl #fanfic #link

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