#and i always switched up to keep my ex guessing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

osarina · 8 months ago

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ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending three years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.

(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!

You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking.

Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—three years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.

“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side.

“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”

The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.

“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”

“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”

“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”

You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad three years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics.

“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t.

“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction.

Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk.

“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”

Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately.

“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.

“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I’ve hardly been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”

“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”

“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?”

“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”

He’s telling the truth.

Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris Wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.

“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you.

“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”

“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”

A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk.

You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there.

“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”

Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is.

“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”

You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”

Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”

“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’

“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”

Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge.

Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt.

You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple.

He smiles.

Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route.

“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants.

As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.

You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.

It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.

Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.

He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.

Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is.

This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-

You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.

You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to.

God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.

“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”

“But-”

“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest.

He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.

The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.

“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.”

He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him.

Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.

“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”

You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.

It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.

You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs.

He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent.

God, he’s gorgeous.

You hate him.

You’ve missed him.

You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.

“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.

You don’t deny him. You never can.

You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.

Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.

You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs.

Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips.

“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.

“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.”

You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago.

“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective.

“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?”

You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-

“None.”

“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”

“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.

“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”

This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.

“No?” he questions.

A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him.

“No.”

His smile sharpens.

“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”

True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.

“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”

“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.

He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace.

His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.

“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”

Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.

Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time.

“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.”

Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying.

Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.

Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch.

“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”

You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”

He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist.

Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.

You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.

This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs.

It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.

You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did.

Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work.

What did you do?

You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk.

If anyone finds out about this-

You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.

He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.

“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek.

You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes.

“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”

“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”

“Stop.”

“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for Christmas because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”

The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything.

Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.

“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”

“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”

“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”

“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t.

“I know,” he murmurs.

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.

Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.

Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly.

“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”

His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”

“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”

The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses.

“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai smut #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu smut #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x you

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garbinge · 4 months ago

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Cowboy and Pony

Tyler Owens x F!Reader

Summary: Tyler comes home with the crew after a chase and after a unpleasant run in with your ex. Word Count 4.5k Warnings: Light angst, mentions of parental death, really bad science and tech explanations for the sake of plot lol, anxiety, talk of trauma/guilt/grief, fear of leaving home, kissing and i guess PG-13 sexual situations (not really but like blink and you miss it type stuff). A/N: I saw Twisters last night and cannot get Tyler Owens out of my brain. Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989

You knew Tyler practically your whole life. He was the boy next door, but that quickly turned into your friend next door. Throughout all of his crazy life adventures, bull riding, studying meteorology, chasing storms, you were there. Except while he was trying out a million things, you were doing one. Tinkering with shit. Some people probably would have called you a mechanic, but you hated it. Because you didn’t just stop at cars, you were the person that would dig through the garbage to find trashed parts and build a computer out of it. That’s actually when Tyler talked to you for the first time, he stood back watching you pick through his trash just to get a circuit board from an old computer. You just liked to build stuff, you learned how to solder, how to rewire shit, the whole nine yards.

Tyler wasn’t just your neighbor growing up, he was a friend. One of the best of ‘em. It’s why when he switched up to tornado chaser and asked you to join his crew there was no hesitation in your decision. You also managed to find a boyfriend, two of them actually, a jerk off one, that only lasted a few months and then the one you currently had, who was in front of your face this entire time.

You were nose deep into some project as you heard the bark from Pony, the rescued Great Dane who you spent most of your days with. It was a miracle you didn’t hear the loud speakers of the truck you knew pulled into the driveway, but then you realized they had probably been broken off or mangled to the point of repair.

“He-hey Pony, who's a good girl.” His voice was muffled, he had to have been a few feet out from the barn, which meant he was keeping the truck a good distance away from you on purpose.

Sliding the barn doors open, your eyes first fell on him. Your number one concern always being him. But when you saw that damn handsome smug face on him, looking up at you with the most apologetic smile as Pony licked his face, your eyes jumped to the truck. They were jumping just as soon as they were closing shut.

The exoskeleton of welded steel had been crushed on one side, which honestly was the least of your problems. The weather station atop had been missing complete pieces versus just a couple dings and scratches. The roof rack lights were broken and the trailer hitch was bent in an unusable position. But the firework launcher was in perfect condition still, of course.

“I fixed what I could on site.” You heard the statement through gritted teeth as Tyler stared at you knowingly.

“Oh. There was more.” You opened your eyes and saw him with an expression that could only be described as yikes as he nodded and stood up, Pony attaching to his side instantly.

“Yeaaaaa.” He was still gritting his teeth as he walked towards you with open arms, knowing he was going to work his way back into your graces. His arms were around you in seconds, and his lips on yours moments later. Reaching to the top of your head, you removed the soldering headband that was resting on the top of your head like a simple pair of sunglasses although was 5x the size. Tyler instinctively grabbed it from you, and moved his hand right back to your lower back while you let your hands cup his face. “I’m sorry.” It was whispered as he pulled from the kiss to rest his forehead on yours.

You looked up at him and noticed the smallest scratch on his face and wiped your thumb along it in hopes that it was just dirt but when the mark stayed and you felt the rigidness from the skin starting to heal already, you knew it wasn’t. “You know all that shit I build for you is so this doesn’t happen, right?”

He let out a laugh, and you felt his body vibrate against yours as he did. “It’s barely the size of a papercut, and I, uh, recall you using your wiring tools to stitch up my head one from bull riding so I’d say it’s not too comparable.” His hands were now reaching up to your face to place a swift kiss on your forehead in an attempt to ease you.

“I don’t compare, I just find a way to make things better. So now you need to tell me what happened to make this happen.” Your hands had moved against his chest.

“One of Storm Par’s guys didn’t tie down their gear right and it nicked Tyler.” Lilly was walking right by you both into the barn to drop her drone for its own repairs.

That made your entire mood change. “I’m sorry, what?” Your head jumping from Lilly to Tyler who was smiling with his mouth open readying an excuse.

“It was one of the new guys, didn’t know his ass from the tornado.” This was him trying to simmer the situation with humor.

“Yea and when you told him that, that David guy got all up in our pretty boy’s face!” Boone was also entering the barn, following shortly behind Lilly with the drone eyes and controller.

“I’m sorry, what?” That’s when your body got more tense and Tyler did everything to try and shake it off you.

David. The jerk off ex-boyfriend.

“Which ones David?” Dani was calling out from the RV, her hat crooked as she hung from the passenger door handle. It was obvious she was probably busy when the situation occurred.

“The jerk-off one!” You and Tyler both called out at the same time. It earned him a smile, you could always count on being in sync with him. Surrendering from your tension you raised your arms up again to his neck, just below his jawline.

“What’d he do?”

“Ah, you know, storm up in my face.” The irony of his statement wasn’t lost on you, it’s why you rolled your eyes which made him explain further. “You know, just said some stupid shit, Boone’s probably got it on video, probably really drive up our views.”

You didn’t give a fuck about views or watching the footage right now, you wanted to hear it from him what happened. And he read that off you immediately. “He just got mad. I mouthed off to someone in his crew, he said some shit to me and I just brushed him off.”

Looking over to Lilly and Boone, you were looking at them for the real answer. “I didn’t realize we were calling, pushing the guy to the ground, brushing him off.” Lilly was smirking as she was looking around at the pieces of the drone that were needing repairs.

“Let me see the video.” You were pushing off Tyler, who was leaning in trying to get you back in his embrace until he dropped his head in defeat.

Boone was eager to show you the footage he caught, ditching the drone and coming to your workstation to set up his camera for you to watch.

“Watch your mouth, Tornado Wrangler. One of my guys is worth all of yours combined.” A typical thing to come from David’s mouth. The MIT degree he held must’ve come with a minor in selfish pretentious douchebag.

You saw how Tyler’s tongue swiped against his bottom lip inside his mouth as he looked out past David, considering he had a few inches of height on him. “See that’s the difference between me and you, Storm Par, we value things a little differently.”

It was immediately apparent that Tyler was referring to you. Yes, he valued his team way more than David his, but Tyler knew what he was doing when he said it. David put a lot of things before you when you were dating, and the straw that broke the camel's back was when he didn’t show up to the hospital when you found out your mother was sick. This was before Storm Par and Tornado Wranglers though, this was when David was just working tracking storms in the area for his college internship and Tyler was just starting to get over taming bulls and more into taming twisters.

When David joined Storm Par, you were already with Tyler for about a year, so it was much to his surprise when he saw you at one of the many motels on the storm trail in Oklahoma not only on top of the red dodge RAM truck fixing something, but also on top of Tyler at the little bonfire gathering in the field adjacent to the motel later that same night.

But it wouldn’t have mattered if you were together with Tyler or not. The two never got along, when he first met David from when they both started chasing the same storms, there was always something in the air.

“Yea, we do. Extremely difficult and exhausting emotional baggage weren’t high on my must-haves when I was looking for a girlfriend.” It was the exact words he used when you broke up with him. Correct, you broke up with him, and he hit you with the yea this isn’t working, you’re extremely difficult and the emotional baggage is beginning to exhaust me line. The extremely difficult line was probably in reference to not wanting to build machines for him to use to track the weather, modeling equipment, etc. And the exhausting emotional baggage was the whole your mother being sick thing. He clearly was still using the statement which meant he thought it was effective. And it was. At getting pushed to the ground.

After the words left his mouth, Tyler’s hands were on David’s collar bones and shoving him with such little effort but enough to get him to stumble to the ground. Tyler smirked, a fully sarcastic look as he shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands. Very that’s what you get of him. “Told you not to talk about her, Storm Par.”

“You told me not to say her name.” David was annoyingly dusting off his shirt, knowing that physically he couldn’t take Tyler even on his best day. The secret was, you knew he couldn’t outsmart him even on his worst day either.

“Hm.” Tyler was taking a couple steps closer now, really towering over him now, blocking any sun from David's vision as he stood tall looking down at him. “Well let’s just add it to the list, huh?” Just as Tyler was about to step away, the smirk on his face went from sarcastic to a full blown smile as he grabbed the ‘not my first tornadeo’ t-shirt that was on Boone’s shoulder and tossed it down to him. “Here, something to change into, you got a little dirt.” He pointed to his own torso when he said it.

That’s when the camera flipped to Boone raising his eyebrows, “you mess with the bull you get the horns!” His fingers raised to his forehead where his pointer and pinky finger were extended in the rocker sign and his teeth gritted to imitate a bull.

“Classy.” You looked up to see Tyler still in the same spot, at the entrance of the barn leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. “Maybe next time we can get you both knight costumes and we can make it a true fight for my honor.”

Despite your satire, he knew you weren’t mad. “Next time, huh? That mean you comin’ on the next chase with us?”

That was the question. It was so much the question, that everyone was looking at you now. Lilly, Boone, Dani, and Dexter. After your mother got really sick, it was hard for you to leave the house, when you needed time for yourself, you’d come to the garage barn and work, that way when she needed you you weren’t too far. When she passed, you were away, on a chase which held enough guilt to basically move you into your barn. The house was merely a place for you to eat, sleep, and shower. And have sex with Tyler, although the barn had seen its fair share of that as well. Now, you had explained it as a habit–preference even, you preferred staying home, it was habitual. But everyone really knew… it was that emotional baggage.

Even though he was mentioning it now, you knew there was never any pressure to go. You used to go. But ever since you got that call from the nurse’s aid that your mother had passed in her sleep while you were 75 miles away, it was hard to pull yourself from here.

“Let me bring the truck in here.” Avoidance.

The keys were being dangled from Tyler’s fingers before you could say another word. As you jumped into the driver’s seat of the truck, you looked down to see a note on the odometer with your name on it.

She got a little more mangled than expected. But can’t wait to tell you about the chase. Give you a little sneak preview, twins, changing wind shear and a surprise. Did what I could on site to fix the ol girl but no one’s as brilliant as you, especially with the vehicle sonar. You probably didn’t notice the vehicle sonar was broken. I’m sorry, did I say that? I don’t think I said that. I love you, I’ll say that too, in hopes that it’s enough for you to forgive the state of the truck, and if not, I brought back barbecue to win your love back.

These were your favorite; they made you feel included, like you were there. And Tyler knew that. Tucking the note into your jacket pocket, you pulled into the garage barn and got to work. About an hour in was when you were interrupted by the smell of barbecue and Tyler attached to the plate.

“Winning back my love?” You called out with a smile, your legs extended out on the roof of the truck as you installed the new-old weather station to it.

He placed the plate next to you, barely needing to reach up to get it that high and jumped into the bed of the truck. “And if not yours then Pony’s.” He was picking a piece of chicken off the plate and tossing it to the Great Dane who was nestled in the corner of the truck bed. “You get my note?” He was standing in the bed now, leaning against the back of the truck cap, his arms crossed on the roof as he watched you work.

“Of course I did. You gonna tell me about,” You pulled the wrench away and looked in his direction while trying to remember the keywords he gave you from the chase. “Twins, and the shifting shear.”

“Don’t forget the surprise.” He was picking up the fork from the plate and waving it as he spoke. “Yea, so we caught twins, although they didn’t look like twins, one was thin, small radius, the other was growing, kickin’ up a lot of dirt.”

“Which one did you follow?” Despite not being much into meteorology, Tyler talked enough about it for you to learn a lot, and even though you hadn’t been on a chase in while, you knew the ins and outs pretty well still.

“The wrong one.” Now he was pushing the fork in your direction, knowing you wouldn’t stop what you were doing long enough to relax and eat.

“The shifting shear.” You mhmed in acknowledgement to the word in his letter about the wind change and also as the taste of your favorite Oklahoma barbeque spot filled your taste buds.

“Yep.” He nodded, “We lost it and Storm Par didn’t.”

“Before or after your run in with David.”

“Before.”

“Then, Tyler Owens, I think you still came out on top.” You said it while still looking at the plate, about to grab more food but the interruption of Tyler’s arms pushing him up on the truck roof, his boot stepping up on the fixed exoskeleton to boost him up so he was on top of you.

“You’re damn right.” He was leaning his face dangerously close, as if his body atop of yours wasn’t dangerous enough. The slightest touch of his lips met yours and any thought of barbecue and fixing weather stations was out of your brain, in fact any thoughts at all were gone from your head aside from the many thoughts of Tyler caressing you. “I missed you.” That was until he said that.

He meant well, and you missed him too, but it just reminded you of not being there. Tyler picked up on your change in mood immediately, his left arm pressed against the metal of the car so he wasn’t as on top of you anymore, his face twisted in concern as his eyebrows raised in a way to ask you what happened but as you thought about how you wanted to explain he got it without you needing to share a word. “Fuck.” Dropping his head and the confused concern, his head fell on your shoulder. “I didn’t mean it that way. Even earlier today, I just–”

“Miss me. I get it.” Your hand fell on his head, your fingers getting tangled in his blonde locks, your mouth moving to pepper kisses on his head as well. “I missed you too, for the record.” You mumbled it against his head.

He moved off you and fell next to you, his hand cupping your head as he placed a kiss to your forehead as he moved. “There’s never any pressure. At your own pace.”

“Says the guy who faces his fears by riding them. If I was anyone else, you’d laugh and scream cowboy obscenities as you walked away from me.”

That caused Tyler to laugh out loud, his body vibrating against yours as his laughs fell in the crook of your neck. “You’re not scared.”

“I’m scarred.” Making jokes was the only way you felt comfortable really talking about it.

“And for the record, you’re you, not anyone else, so yes I treat you differently.” He left a kiss in the crook of your neck as he left it. “And what are cowboy obscenities?”

You cleared your throat and began hollering typical midwestern slang and finished it off with the Tyler Owens tagline. “Woooohooo, if you feel it chase it!”

There was his laugh again, buzzing against your body, making you miss him even when he was right damn next to you.

Things quieted down for a bit and the two of you sat up and finished off the plate of barbeque on the picnic table you turned the roof of the red dodge into. “So, I was thinkin’ you know how you have the buttons in the truck to release the rockets and drill in and all that.” You spoke like you weren’t the one that helped him install all of those gadgets.

“Mhm.” He smiled thinking the same thing, his arm propped up on his folded leg.

“Well, Storm Par they have those data trackers, the things they gotta get out of the car and place down around the vortex.” You explained.

“Think it’s the PAR in Storm Par.” Tyler teased.

“Exactly, Phased Array Radar. And I know we have the drone, which is great but what if we could have both? Footage and data.” Before Tyler could answer you were jumping back down to your work station and moving some things around to pull out a mechanism you had been working on before the group arrived back.

Tyler was following behind you, not as quickly paced but still intrigued. “Okay so this we could install in your truck and attach it to this.” You were now showing a large panel that had hydraulics on it. “And basically, you press this and the truck bed flap will open and this will move out, dropping whatever you want out, you guys won't have to leave the car.”

Tyler nodded as he took it all in, impressed, as always. “Pretty sure the handsome fellas at Storm Par use 3 of those bad boy radars though. Don’t think we could get the RV that close to a twister.”

“I’d build you a data catcher where you’d only need one.” Already having the answer to his question you folded your arms and smirked. You had the mechanism to release it pretty much done, now you just had to build the radar, no biggie.

“How?” He copied your pose, arms crossed, leaning more on one leg than the other, although his eyebrows were frowned while yours were raised.

“Because you just have to drop it in the vortex.” Now his eyebrows raised and before he could ask his one more follow up question, you were answering it for him. “And I’m planning on building one that shifts its panel, so even when the twister passes, you can still track it for up to 5 miles. Dorothy reimagined.” You were referring to the hundreds of sensors people would generally have zipped up into a tornado to radio back data.

“We’d have information on the twister way quicker.” Tyler’s brain was starting to wrap around this idea.

“It’s not perfect, it’s not going to change much but–”

“It’s a way to get more information faster, that’s pretty big.” He stopped you from doubting the idea. “And keeps us from needing to race against the twister outside the truck.

“I’m nothing if not concerned for your safety.” You pointed at him with the large switch in your hand while he walked over to start helping you piece some more things together. The two of you fell into a silent groove, working on the idea you had just shared with him, rewiring things and going over different equations to best prepare the data capture radar. As time passed, Tyler looked over at you from across the workstation and spoke up.

“You know, I get why you can’t come out. I know prolly better than anyone how much your mom meant to you, what seeing her get sick did to you.”

Shifting your focus from the lamp lit table covered in wires in front of you, you looked up at him. His eyes were staring at you, softly, it was something he seemed to want to share for a while and was just waiting for the right moment. And he was right, Tyler did know. It was the perk of growing up with him as your neighbor, he just knew things because he was there. Not only did he know, but he experienced them with you. He’d come by for dinner, bring you any piece of tech or electronics him or his aunt didn’t use anymore. When you popped your bicycle tire riding home from school, he picked you up in his aunt’s truck even though he didn’t have a license. On those weekend trips you’d so often take with your mom, he’d come by and check in on the barn, on your family pets. When she was sick and 90% of your time was spent making sure she was okay, he was making sure you were okay. And when your mom passed, he was the one who drove you the 75 miles back home in the same red pickup truck when one of the most historical twisters touched down.

It was memories and thoughts like those that always made you wonder what took you so long to realize you were in love with Tyler Owens. He’d love to tell everyone now that he knew from the moment he saw you picking through trash that he loved you. That when you were rushing down the high school hallway with some contraption you made explaining to him that you made it to help him with the focusing issue he had casually brought up to you was when he realized he could never lose you. This person who knew neither of them had the money for noise cancellation headphones and just decided to make them herself with a playlist of his favorite songs in one night to help him focus? You cared about him. And he could never lose that. Which is why he could never tell you that he was in love with you. He watched you date losers, even went on his own dates too sometimes to see if he could get over the feeling. The only thing comparable was bull riding. Or storm chasing. And with that came you, because as much as you didn’t realize you loved Tyler, you knew you loved being around him.

“We can start slow if you want to get out, maybe we can go away for the weekend, go to that town you and your mom used to drive out to in Texas, Sun Valley, right?”

It was honestly the perfect idea. Getting out and doing something that reminded you of your mom. “Yea that’s a good idea.”

He sensed the hesitancy in your voice though and changed the topic quickly. “Never asked me what the surprise was.”

“What’s the surprise?” It was spoken in a mockery tone, you knew he’d get around to telling you.

“Be right back.” He was eagerly standing up from the table and lightly jogging down the driveway into the RV where Dani and Dexter were probably working on making sense of the data they had already captured.

As Tyler came back into the barn, Pony whined and tilted his head as the scent of what Tyler was carrying entered the barn. He had a young dog in his hands, although the dog was big enough to likely not be a puppy but you could tell from his face, he still had a few more young months ahead. It was a real dog and pony show, literally.

“Found him in the aftermath rubble, pretty sure his owners didn’t make it because no one claimed him.” The heaviness of his statement hit you as you stepped out and made your way towards both Tyler and the dog. “Didn’t have a nametag on ‘em.”

“Cowboy.” You grabbed the dog from Tyler’s hands, giving him his name, and scratched him behind his ears before putting him down on the ground to meet Pony.

As you looked at both dogs, now curiously sniffing and playing together in your workshop barn, Tyler tossed his arm around your shoulders and kissed your head. “Pony and Cowboy.” He nodded.

“You bring him home because you don’t think Pony has it in her to protect me all by herself?”

“Somethin’ like that.” He smirked. “Plus now, you got an excuse to stay home more. You got a puppy to raise.”

#twisters #Twisters 2024 #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #twisters fanfiction #tyler owens fanfiction #my writing #garbinge

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thegoldensundreamer · 10 months ago

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Love At Last

Onyankopon x black!reader

Warnings: exes, use of n word, squirting, fingering (f receiving), eating out (f receiving)

Word Count: 6.2k

He was a little older than me. A junior, and I, a sophomore. In college, you only had two focuses: have fun and study, and truthfully it helped me. No matter what anyone told me I had control to do whatever I wanted in life and didn't want anyone's opinions on how I'd be living it.

Honestly, that's what made my other ex's love me and even some, hate me. But I mean it wasn't like he was always putting his expectations too high for me. Onyankopon just wanted to see me as my best self. When we broke up and I told him the reason as to why I couldn't do it anymore, it all really didn't make sense. I wanted to tell myself that I knew the reason as to why he was just so terrible but subconsciously I knew I didn't. And it was hard for me these past months. Really hard. I been seeing him on campus like a thousand times and he just keeps getting more beautiful and glowin like the sun.

He's the head of his team now and it never helps me that he didn't ever have any girls he just messed around with. Especially bonding and having a real relationship with his exes. Including me. And Its painful seeing him just living his life and me not hating him for any reason because he is really a great guy. So whenever I see him I make sure to shift my eyes to the complete opposite direction of where his head is at. Or even cover my face with a book or a water bottle to not have that awkward walk past. But I kind of wish he chased after me... and although I know its selfish I'm just as confused as when I left that boy. But I guess we all just have to move on.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"The assignment is still due this Sunday at 11:59 on Blackboard. I don't want any emails, text messages, or conversations next class about an extension. Period."

I honestly think Professor Rodriguez is tweaking now. No excuses? What if someone is sick or something?

The whole class groans as we pack all of our stuff. I mean, it's just a paper so I'm not tripping or anything. I just got to make sure to do it before the Que party this weekend. There's never been a problem before so I don't think I have anything to worry about.

Me and my girls have been planning to go to one of the Que parties we keep infamously hearing about. It's always wild, lit, and memorable till you graduate. All of a sudden when you get that degree they don't exist no more because you don't want no one to know of the hoe tales.

I haven't been to one of their parties yet, but Im excited. I haven't been outside in a while especially since I ended things with Ony. A few kickbacks here and there were going on this past semester for me but that's about it. I like being inside just as much or even more than I like being out.

When I walk down the university building, I put in my headphones ready to blast some Sexyy Red. That woman music got something in it I swear.

"I'm looking for the hoooesssss" I mouth to myself while I nod my head. Shit, I forgot how hard that bass goes. As I bob my head I can't remotely hear the voice behind me trying to catch my attention.

It was Jaden, one of Ony’s teammates, and he's also in Professor Rodriquez class. He gave up calling my name and just let me go.

•••

When I finally left the building and head to my car I instantly switch my music over to the Bluetooth aux and look at my assignment before I pull off. You see... he assigned it to us last Friday and I for real have just been procrastinating till now. I would say my time management is usually really good but its not.

"Ok so I got to just write about 500 words. I could do this tonight no problem."

I put down my phone and start adjusting my rear view mirror only to find light grey clouds of the day turning darker grey. I really hope it don't storm when I'm on the road.

Driving out of the lot and onto the highway, I continue blasting my hoochie playlist. Shrugging at the random pain in my heart I'm feeling, I call one of my girls talking about how much I think this party gon cut all my feelings from Ony and revive the party girl in me.

Im pulling into my apartment complex excited . I haven't been this joyous to go to a party in a while. The mere thought of shaking ass is bringing me serotonin. Just a sweet release of stress. Plus, it's Friday and the party is Saturday night so I'm definitely geeking.

When I stumble up the steps right before the entrance to my residence giddy and jovial, looking for my key, I slightly looked up. The scream in my head is definitely showing me how much I'm not over this feeling in my heart.

I stopped my movement and fought the urge to back step all the way back into my car and hide. I'm not sure why hes here at this time. It's 5:30 which isn't late for real but just a bit confusing enough to make you question why the hell someone is at your door uninvited. Especially since its here. At my apartment. And it's him. With his aura and skin glistening like oil on a hot body.

He was in some black muscle shirt with matching jogger pants. Shyly smiling at me at first but then noticing my expression, he looked down at the state of his body and cringed before looking back in my eyes. Clearly embarrassed. "Sorry you seeing me like this, I just came from practice so I'm still a little sweaty"

I secretly moaned in my head. He looks so good I had to catch my breath and his voice is still captivating up to now. I still can't forget the way he used to t-

I'm getting sidetracked. Let me regain this composure.

"Is there something you need?" I quietly ask. This is no good. The whole point is out of sight out of mind. You know how you want to block somebody on everything and really go out of your way to not see them in person so you won't have to think about them or double back? Well I feel like I'm breaking that right now. It's not my fault sure but the shame still feels the same.

Ony pulls out an object from his pocket. A white, slightly long but thin figure. He looks at it for a moment before looking up at me again and holding it up.

"I came here to give this to you. Im pretty sure it's yours. At least that's what Jaden said."

I squint my eyes in confusion at what he was holding and hurriedly looked through my tote bag to find that I did not have my Apple Pencil for my iPad.

So that's why he's here.

Apple pencils are expensive so I'm not mad. I would've been more upset if I only figured out I dropped it when I got inside and tried to start my paper. But how did he even get it?

He reached his arm out as I began to walk up to him for my pencil. I thanked him for bringing it to me and awkward silence overtook the little rain droplets that noted the thunderstorm about to take place.

Our hands touched ever so slightly as I grabbed my missing pencil. I withdrew immediately and he did the same faintly after. After a few long seconds, he broke the silence.

"Jaden gave it to me at the locker rooms after practice. He said he tried to give it to you after class but couldn't catch up or something so I guess he just wanted me to carry out the deed especially with some paper he mentioned."

I grinned and slightly nodded in understanding, quickly glancing at his eyes before staring at the Apple Pencil. It's strange. He can't really look me in the eye. I mean, I can't either but he's 6'2" so my excuse is good. On top of that, the nonchalance in his tone doesn't sit right with me. It's either he's forcing it or a part of me wants to believe he is just to delude myself that he still cares. It's unfair of me, especially since I probably broke his heart, but it's the real.

"I'll thank Jaden when I see him next class. Thank you for bringing it to me." I quip and walk past him to my door, beginning to find my keys in my bag with the pencil still in hand.

Damn when did I get this shy?

Onys attempt at being nonchalant somewhat was breaking. He stared at the pencil smiling as he spoke and pointed.

"I'm surprised you still have Chowder on there".

I turned my head around, mid-hand in bag. He was referring to the little sticker I had on my ex-missing item. The one that would help me differentiate my pencil from everyone else's so no one would take it. The one he gave me as a funny gift for the love of our mutual favorite childhood show.

I'm surprised he still remembers these little details about me. About us.

"Well it's still my favorite show. I don't think that's ever going to change." I giggle looking back for my keys.

It's hard to do this. To face him. How do people talk to their exes? This isn't even my first but damn. Now my minds all over the place with him and us all over it. All those memories we share. Good and bad.

I stop fiddling in my bag and spoke under my breath with the same thought, caught up in the idea. "I'm surprised you still remember." I mumbled to myself.

I can feel his presence and his eyes on me, not exactly sure what his actions are. But his voice speaks up with a small sense of fervor in his tone. Something undeniably him. The tone I always craved since it left me.

"Y/n, you can't tell me you don't call to mind how Ive remembered every single thing I've been blessed to learn about you"

I still my hands from roaming once again after I found my keys. At this point, I don't know what's going on. But as I motion my mouth to find what to say a grand lightning bolt flashed down from the sky, hitting somewhere nearby. Thunder that sounded like an earthquake erupted, immediately pouring heavy rain down with it. With that, we instantaneously saw lampposts shut off. All electricity in the area immediately being gone in an instant.

"Ain't no way" I groaned. I can't believe this. I look around at all of the dark areas surrounding the complex except for the emergency lights powered from the generator. Putting my keys in the door, I heavily sigh opening up my residence.

Slowly walking in to the dim natural light from the blinds I turn around to Onyankopon, standing still at the doorstep, and tell him he can come in.

"Are you sure? My car is all good and everything I can still drive."

"In this storm?" I ask raising my eyebrow. I rolled my eyes, "You not gon get nowhere the way this storm going right now. It's fine. Plus, your place is probably out of electricity too."

He nods, "Well thanks, I really appreciate it" He awkwardly steps into the 3 bedroom apartment. My girls usually have class during this time last I checked so we're the only ones here.

I grab some candles to light across my home hoping for some sort of spark to brighten up the place.

Once I withdrew a breath and looked around, the rooms seemed to be lit up enough comfortably outside of the insanely romantic essence it gave off. I stood up from where I was crouched by the living room table where I made eye contact with him sitting up on the couch.

"Soooo could I get you anything?" I awkwardly stand there and he's just sitting... menacingly.

Ugh who am I kidding he looks so geeked out right now.

"It's honestly fine. Once the storm passes I'll be right out forreal you don't have to go through any trouble." He laughs.

With that in mind I obliged and went to my room setting up my laptop and iPad with my now found Apple Pencil. Since the electricity's gone that means I shouldn't have any distractions on focusing on my work.

"Right y/n, focus on the goal. It don't matter that your ex is in the other room. Get on your zoom!" Mumbling to myself as I type in my username to blackboard to view the rubric.

"What the-"

Shit. Of course blackboard and the wifi is down too if all the electricity is out.

As I groan and leave my room to get a glass of water, I'm getting Ony one too. Seeing him roaming on his phone and placing the glass in front of him on the table I sit on the sofa opposite of him.

He looks up from his phone, "You did not have to do this", he began to grin to himself as he lifted the cup and started to drink.

As I began to speak we both got a notification.

ALL UNIVERSITY STUDENTS: ELECTRICITY IS DOWN ON CAMPUS AND ON AND OFF CAMPUS HOUSING DUE TO A SEVERE WEATHER STORM. MORE UPDATES WILL COME SOON. CURRENTLY, AN ESTIMATION OF 3 HOURS WILL BE NEEDED TO REPAIR DAMAGES TO ELECTRICAL UNITS.

"Fuck" I groaned.

"You're not gonna be able to finish that paper huh?" He questioned.

"No and it's due Sunday. I was hoping to knock it out today before the weekend really starts. I don't need to procrastinate anymore than I already have."

"Oh trust me I remember." He laughed. "I can help yknow. There's nothing else we can do here."

"On what though? Blackboard is down."

"Not google docs or notes app though." He smiled, "As long as you know what you're supposed to write about you're set."

"But I like looking at the rubric when I write to make sure my grades solidified"

"I'm hearing a lot of excuses misses honors student. If you wanted to do it you would at this point. Plus, my specialty is writing papers so I can definitely help"

I remember oh so well. This reminds me of when I procrastinated on a paper last semester the weekend before it was due just like this one and we stayed up till 3 AM writing it. So many laughs and double shot espressos from that time. His specialty really is writing essays and all sorts of papers. That assignment was 5000 words and we started the Saturday and still got an A.

"Shit, why not. It's only 500 words anyway" I joke.

He smiled and we got to work. The first hour went by like nothing. It felt like old times. 200 words were typed but the only thing holding us back was that I actually need to have proper cited sources. Professor Rodriguez do not play around either so it's been a painstaking amount of time trying to find anything with no internet and a on and off personal hotspot.

As Ony and I sit next to each other working on the paper, he lifts up his glass and it accidentally slipped out of his hands onto the table.

"Ah damn I'm so sorry. Let me-"

"No it's cool." I put down my laptop and got up to get a paper towel. When I sat back down and handed the paper towel to him our hands touched again. That once jovial, funny and somewhat relaxed mood we had was now gone. We're exes. This isn't what exes do. We're not friends.

But shit we were . That was exactly what we were like before we started anything or knew there was something there. Even during our relationship we felt just like this at times too. Where the hell did we go? Why did I let us go?

The awkward touch we had became more intimate as I decided to gently grab his hand. The eye contact he made was confused but willing. It spoke "why haven't you done this all this time while I'm right here?" Or at least that's what I think.

Our hands interlocked letting go of the paper towel at this point. Eye contact on something serious as we ask questions to each other with them. As I began to lean down on the couch, Ony couldn't stop staring between my eyes and my lips. He eventually and quickly took the dive, trying not to lose the moment. Embers burned and flowed through the air as he began to shift from my power to his. He embarked on leaning my back onto the couch rather than his. Hands splayed in my locs and taking small breaks to breathe before going back in.

Small moans escape my mouth as he's working me. Kisses pressed on my lips were coming down my chin... then my neck as he suckled on my skin. His hands roamed my body slowly. One on the side of my stomach nearing my ass and the other beginning to feel my breast under my shirt. At this point, he's starting to get more vocal, groaning and whispering sweet nothings along my body.

"You know how much I've missed you y/n. How much I've missed this pretty face... this pretty body... and this pretty pussy" he hissed one kiss after another. "Is this all ok? If you're not fine with this of course I'll stop. Tell me what you want."

His asking for consent was always so sexy and those words... damn I missed him and this.

I looked at his lust blown eyes as he looked up to mine from my stomach as he briefly stopped from going lower and lower.

"I want you Q. I'm all yours." My composure is definitely done at this point. He's got me right now.

"Don't worry. You know I will always take care of you." He slurred, slowly sliding my bottoms and panties down and kissing my inner thighs before locking them in his arms. It's been a while since I've been in this position and I've missed it since forever ago.

Slow pecks from my thighs came closer and closer to the apex of them. He must could tell how nervous I was since his thumbs gently rubbed where they laid at to comfort me. Im in love with the way they feel on me.

"So as you can see I do have some hair ri-"

He side eyed me. "Y/n I'm a grown ass man. You know I like my peaches with some fuzz on it. Now can I have my dinner please?"

He can get so forward like this it's making me shy. I rolled my eyes and laid my head back. I never thought I'd be in this predicament.

"Good girl. Just stay just like that baby."

He nestled his lips on my bundle, wrapping them on to gently suck at a slow and smooth pace. His rhythm was gradually fastening and shortly, his lips unattached from my clit to lap at the bundle once more flicking his tongue. He remembers. He always remembers what I like.

Beginning to close my legs from the sensation, he parts me once again lapping at my cunny fervently. Like some undying need that he can't let go. As a "punishment" for me not taking it, he inserts a finger and then a second to make me break even more than I already am.

I plead and moan, "Ony, baby, I'm leaking"

I can barely control my body now. My breath getting fainter as I breathe heavy.

"Good. You know that's what I want." He keeps pumping. Squelching ensues as he becomes infatuated with his doing. "Look at that shit. All for me huh" He asks looking at my fucked out face.

I disappointedly moan when his fingers leave me but he swipes my essence from its trail and sucks his fingers while maintaining eye contact with me. I whimper and squeeze at the sight.

I guess he wanted to finish the job though. I tried to reach over to slip my hand in his boxers just for him to grab my wrist and pin both of my hands down to finish what he started.

It's always like a switch in him when he's like this. So different from the sweet Onyankopon from everyday that everyone knows. So nasty. I love it. I miss it.

He mischievously watches me. "You feel this?" I moan as he pumps his fingers back in me. I roll my eyes to the back of my head and he chuckles. "I'm gonna take that as a yes. Let me make you cum, princess."

He lowered his head down again as he continued pumping into me. Licking a stripe up my honey and continuing the mess he was creating previously. Languid strokes of his tongue were hitting me just right and my moans started turning to desperate whimpers.

Building me up for a while, he then dipped his muscle into my pussy and interchanging with his fingers, curling them with each stroke. His other hand left my thigh and his thumb began rubbing my clit. Faster and faster he went I started to find my stomach tensing and the air becoming hard to breathe.

In between heavy pants I slip out "O, stop, I'm gonna make a mess!" my eyes rolling to the back of my head and legs lifting and coming together.

He didnt stop and pinned me down pressing on my lower stomach. My moans became octaves higher and higher. He lifted his head from my cunny, "you gon take it and make a mess all over my face. Don't hold back nothing."

With that, he continued his ministrations. My grip on his hair became as tight as it could as I could feel my voice go weak. My legs began to shake as clear liquid lightly sprayed out onto his face and a white ring began to form on his fingers. My pants were beginning to rapidly slow down as I came down from my high, un loosening the death grip I had on his head.

He came back up kissing my cheek then licking my essence off his face and fingers, "Always taste so good." Proceeding to take a rag from my bedroom to clean me up and carrying me to my bed.

Before we even got the chance to speak about what happened, my eyes fell. A nap took over both of us and hours that felt like minutes rolled by.

His arm around me as we slept on our sides felt like old times. Like something right that I just ripped away from my body. It's so comfortable.

After a dream I couldn't remember, I wake up in a daze, looking behind me to see him knocked out and his arm still around my waist.

Gently moving it off of me, I slowly get up and walk to the bathroom.

"Shit I might as well take a shower"

To be honest, none of this has settled in my head yet. My ex boyfriend who I'm clearly not over in my bedroom after being nasty on the couch is sleeping on my bed... crazy. Real fanfiction kind of shit.

Pushing the light switch up, I notice the bulb illuminate the room. Thank the Lord almighty. I put on my shower cap and get in. I feel myself let go of a breath I didn't know I had when the hot water hits my skin.

This is insane. I shouldn't be hooking up with my ex. I cut it off for a reason... I think. It's gotta be this way for the both of us so nobody gets hurt.

"Bitchhhh" I think to myself in the shower holding my head.

Leaving the bathroom with my towel on, I see my ex looking over at me from his phone, arm now holding his head up to stare me up and down in awe.

"It's been a while since I seen this view"

I cut my eyes and stand in front of him on my bed. "Look we need to talk- " and my head turned immediately when I heard the front door of the apartment open. Thankfully, my room doors closed, but my girls walked in the apartment gossiping when they called out my name to have our daily debrief of the day.

I cuss at myself and know they probably see the cups of water, candles, and his shoes at the door as they fell silent. Whispering to themselves with words I couldn't make out, I eventually hear a knock at my door.

I looked at Ony, mortified with a finger to my lips, then took a deep breath, opening the door so they can only see me still in my bath robe.

"Heyyy" I greeted with the awkwardest get out and don't make this weird smile I know.

"Hey mookie, we just wanted to check on you and see if you're good with the electricity going off and everything earlier." One of them said, clearly peeking inside my bedroom to see who's here, eyes widening that it was him before he could move himself. She gave me a look and I gave her one back like we telepathic or something.

"Girl yknow I'm good, just trying to finish this paper" I say hoping she takes the message that I know she's getting from me right now.

"Yeah I'm sure it's realll hard" She said acting like a real smart ass.

With a few more exchanges they go to their rooms to settle down for the night. After hearing both of their doors close I rush back to my room.

"Yeah, you gotta go" picking up his clothes and pushing them to his chest.

"But-"

"Look, I wish there was a better time to talk, but you have to go. This... is strange. We broke up. There's a reason why this ended. I know it was probably stupid of me to let you stay here during the storm, but this wasnt my intention." Pointing at the both of us.

I picked his arm up before he could get a word out to reason with me, clothes just tussled onto his body. If he sweet talks me again I really might not double back this time.

We get to the door and with the least amount of strength he has, he turns his body towards me and gently grabs my hand before I could open the door placing it back by my side.

"Y/n...why are you letting go of us... again? This still doesn't make sense and you know that."

I still. I remember this feeling... this sense of regret. But just like last time, I can't tell if it's the wrong choice or because I don't want to let go.

In truth, Ony feels... familiar. He'll always feel like a memory and I don't want to get too comfortable in his light of nostalgia. He brought such a level of solace in my life that I never wanted to replace. It was even more so after we became official....I don't want to become stagnant because of it. I have my own dreams, my own endeavors, and my own goals that I want to reach. It would be so easy to be a trophy wife to him... and he'd gladly let me. As a woman, I don't want that to be the tell all be all of my life when I know that I had a life before him. I didn't know if I could escape from it then and I definitely don't know now. That's the real reason why I keep shutting him out and probably why we broke up... but he can't know that.

"Because I know we won't end well. We're two different people Ony and this idea that you can just up and think everything is picture perfect for us has to stop now"

He looks in my eyes with such disappointment, then slight anger as his eyebrows pushed together. He opened his mouth to speak again but thought about it and decided not to, closing his eyes in the process. With a heavy huff from his chest, he looked at my eyes one last time for the night before turning away and leaving the complex.

When I shut the door, My girls came out immediately like paparazzi.

"You were over him huh?" One of them snarled at me. "It don't seem that way to me love. Maybe you shouldn't even go to the party tomorrow."

I looked down at the ground and they both took notice of my state. We all went to my bedroom and I explained everything that happened tonight. Their eyes looked at mine with frustration and awe. I held my head knowing their reaction just like they've been telling me for the past 3 months.

"You are not over that boy y/n"

"I think you're confused"

And they're right. I am. But I tell them the same thing I told them every time.

"But when he makes it to the league, what am I going to do? Wag my tail like a dog after him and have niggas tell me that I want his money or that I don't have half his talent for anything like them bitches was saying when we were together? And what if he cheats? He gon have hella girls at his disposable and I'll be feeling stupid like "I really wasted my time on this nigga". Y'all know how much I love Ony and I was just getting over him too. This is for the best for me right now y'all know that"

They gave each other a look and got up to hug me.

"Whatever decision you choose to make girl you know we got you. Just remember to listen to your heart sometimes"

With that, we said our little goodbyes and retired for the night. Ony on my mind, I went to bed.

Waking up, he is still on my mind. Getting my laptop, I tried to continue the paper but had no will power to do so. The whole morning and afternoon felt like that... no volition and all a blur. Wasting away in my bed after the three different times my girls checked up on me throughout the day I just can't escape him. It doesn't help having the daydream engrained of what could've been present with our past. In that same thought, I hear a buzz on my phone, too in tune with the delusional reaction thinking it could be him.

I look at it to see the ticket for the party tonight that one of my girls sent. I groan and get up, finally deciding to start my day and also prepare myself for tonight.

Hype hoochie music is playing on my speaker and I hear Looking For the Hoes again. I'm thinking of how good everything was before all that happened yesterday. Do I even regret it? Am I blocking my blessings?

I can't let a man distract me from my life though. There's a life before and after him and I have to remind myself of that.

Finally finished with my look and it finally being an hour after the party started, me and my girls head out for the wild night we been planning for months.

What I didn't know was that the line would feel like 3 miles long and realizing we need our ID when we're finally 5 feet before the security. Why are parties this complicated? I don't know. But luckily we all at least have pictures of our ID and got in.

When we step foot into the party, the first thing we see is purple lights illuminating the entire venue. People are scattered everywhere and in every other corner we see the Ques barking and hopping to their stroll.

"Lawd have mercy" one of my homegirls say in love with the ques. Me and the other laugh and roll our eyes.

After some time just standing, we decided to find a small table and sit down with our small get ups. Our drinks from the pregame were starting to kick in after 10 minutes and we were laughing our ass off drunk when we hear "Girl the way you move it got me in a trance-", and that was it. All of us pulled each other to the dance floor and start to turn up. I'm throwing ass on my home girl and catching from the other.

I needed this. Seriously. I forgot how fun it is to be outside in the streets. Seconds later, we hear a scream and laugh from a girl and gasp from the crowd. One of the Ques picked up a girl and started acting like he was eating her out.

We all looked at each other with our jaws dropped. Ain't no wayyyyy. They were not lying bout it getting wild.

Right behind where I see the spotlight shining, about 30 feet away, I saw a face I didn't think I'd see at all. Just as his eyes set in on the scene before him he also saw my eyes and we made eye contact for a brief second.

I turned my body so fast that I almost knocked my home girl over. In the middle of her fussing me out she asked what happened. Naturally, I told her that Ony is at the party.

"Why is a nigga at a Que party is the real question though?"

"Girl unimportant can we please move somewhere else"

We all move to a separate section of the party venue. This can not happen. I'm drunk and I been dancing? I can not see or be around that man right now.

Before I could even get the nightmare out my head, I hear a "Y/n" near my head. I turn around mouth slightly agape to see him once again. Even finer in his put together party get up than his athlete clothes from yesterday. My mind all caught up in him just like last time I'm in a blur of what he's actually saying to me.

"Y/n, why are you here right now?" He whispers yells in my ear from the loud music blasting from the speakers.

I look to my left and right and my homegirls dashed off like the road runner... traitors.

Looking at him once again, eyes low from the drink in my system I ask, "Ony, why would it matter to you? I'm not your girl and you not my man. We single. The real question is why you're at a Que party." Remembering what my homegirl had said to bite back at him.

He fixes his face, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek looking at me clearly frustrated. Just looking at his face he can't leave me alone. Sorry that's just drunk me talking I don't know whats on his mind.

"Y/n, why the hell you been drinking so much? Don't you got a paper to finish?"

"Ony you are not my daddy get up out my face!" I yell at him. "I'm out here having fun with my girls trying to get over YOUR ASS so why can't you just mind yo business!" Oops. My eyes widened, that last part wasn't supposed to come out. Fuck.

Shit, how did he react to that?

Without time for me to look up and see his face or even hear him utter a word, he has my hand in his and leading me somewhere and fast. I'm trying to keep up but it's kind of hard to have good foot and direction coordination in a party like this and off my ass.

With all of the movement feeling like a blur, I found both of us outside of the party venue from some back door. It's slightly raining by the building and the night sky showed a bright orange street light that was our only light source.

He takes off his jacket and puts it over my shoulders to warm me. It's a bit cold. What a gentleman.

"Y/n ... what did you say?"

He stares directly in my eyes with a sense of fervency and hope. One that I can't deny now.

Part 2?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Authors Note: Hi y'all! I haven’t written fanfic in soooo long but never stopped reading lmao. I loveeee this one so much. It’s Literally the best fic ive done period thus far. I’m trying to think if I should start writing again fr esp for my fictional anime men.

#onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon smut #onyankapon #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x reader #ony x black reader #aot x reader #aot smut

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geeky-nightphilosopher · 1 year ago

Text

Okay, somebody can correct me if I'm wrong- but at the end of The Nigerian Job, when the team was convincing Nate that they should keep doing what they did- Eliot's whole argument was Nate. Nate falling apart. Nate needing the chance. Nate not being able to walk away. Nate.

Then, suddenly Eliot became the whole team's body guard. (Something he's grunt and gruffed about.) Yet. Yet. Somewhere (I say it was The Iceman Job and The Inside Job,) Eliot's brain switched from protecting the team to protecting Hardison and Parker. (Again correct me if I'm wrong.) Suddenly his job became more about having Hardison and Parker's back than having Nate's back. Maybe I'm the only one whose noticed- but Eliot become more softer with both Hardison and Parker after those particular jobs. Sure he keeps that gruff, sarcastic wit about him but there's often tones of... protectivness(?) when he interacts with them. Almost like he's telling other people around them- whose in ear shot- that Hardison and Parker are his. Like he's possessive.

Now, I'm not saying Eliot just stops caring about the rest of the team. I mean- he beats up Sterling for Nate and in Redemption Eliot is following Sophie around a handful of times. Their are even times where he has Breanna's back and Harry's. But he seems to treat those situations like a case. He compartmentalizes those situations. With Hardison and Parker- he doesn't. It's like his brain won't let him. He sees Hardison and Parker and it's like- all bets are off.

And on the flip side- has anyone noticed that Parker and Hardison seem to be the only ones that know how to... defuse (is that the right word?) Eliot? Like even Maria couldn't get Eliot to relax in The Hurrican Job. (Of course that's probably because Eliot was hiding who he was to her.) But Eliot always seems to be more relaxed when he's around those two.

In The Iceman Job after when Hardison tries to hug him? Eliot wasn't really fighting it. (I would know- I do that to my brother ALL the time when he tries to hug me.) In The Inside Job- when Eliot went to attack that employee- Parker stopped him. In The Double-Edge Sword Job, when Eliot is furious because an abusive ex comes after a women that they tried to hide- it's Parker that calms him down. It's Hardison who pays off the bartender when Eliot attacks Sterling. It's Parker who is always by his side or close to it. It's Parker who trusts Eliot when their in the back of the van with Vance. (Yes, Parker trusts Hardison too, but Hardison is a hacker- not a protector.) It's Eliot who Hardison listens to when he's not confident. It's Eliot who grabs Hardison from the coffin. It's Eliot who crouchs behind Hardison as Parker flips around him. It's Eliot whose hands are shaking when he they have half a second on a bomb.

Eliot Spencer is Hardison's and Parkers. They own him. In the same way Hardison and Parker are his. He owns them. (Does that make sense?)

For the record- I don't know why I'm pointing all of this out. It's just interesting to me... I guess.

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st4rhwa · 10 months ago

Text

𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗬𝗖𝗟𝗘𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗨𝗦𝗧 k. hj

김홍중 | playboy!kim hongjoong x afab!reader smut, light angst, fluff

synopsis: much like recycled stardust, no matter how far you drift from hongjoong, you'll always find your way back into his arms.

cw: university!au, deliberate lower case, smut, angst, fluffy ending, reader has feminine attributes, ex boyfie joong, push-and-pull kind of relationship, it's not toxicity i promise, hongjoong's a little bit ooc, brief mentions of alcohol/drugs, making out, pet names (baby, princess, joong(ie)), empty threats

wc: 5.7k

𝗮/𝗻: first tumblr fic ! this might be kind of messy ?? i'm still in the learning process of everything lol inspired by: i'm yours (isabel larosa)

sw: unprotected sex, switch!joong, switch! reader, desperate make up sex/kind of hate sex?, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, i really did try to start this blog off with a soft fic but i couldn't help myself

"-you'll come, right?"

just a normal interaction, is what you kept telling yourself. it's nothing special, nowhere near the sort. just a conversation. nothing out of the ordinary.

that's what it would have been if kim hongjoong, your ex boyfriend, hadn't been the one to stop you in the middle of the road to convince you it'd be a good idea to attend his party next saturday. because i mean come on. sex? alcohol? ket? shrooms? please. that's child's play.

but how he's so relaxed around you cognisant of the long history the two of you share, you'll never know.

"i would but.." your witless muttering isn't doing anything for you other than digging your grave. his keen gaze makes your palms sweat; is it the comical height difference or the general attention he seems to be adamant to give you?

"come on," he whines. "i could convince anyone else in the world other than you to go. why do you always make it so difficult?" "not my thing," you should know that, is what you would have liked to add. "sorry." making tracks however, obviously wasn't justifiable in his books. immediately reaching for your wrist, you don't make it much further than two steps before he locks you back in his gaze.

"come on, y/n," "i don't-" "please? i'd really like you to be there." your eyes snap up to his, and the way he looks at you so enticingly makes you want to crawl up into a ball and die.

you hate the fact that he has you in the palm of his hand. especially because he knows it too.

"my ass." you mumble, shoving past another group of people. you're sweating, trying to weave yourself through the crowds of intoxicated young adults mingling, drinking and swaying to the music. you hate it. you hate it so much it's unbearable.

your friends squeeze you into a mini dress and cake you in makeup, just to leave you five minutes into the party to fuck some junkie they'll never talk to ever again. and kim hongjoong? he's nowhere to be found.

your entire being reverberates in time with the heavy bass line of whatever fusion afro beats were playing in the living room. in times like these, the kitchen becomes your safe haven; surrounded by countless bottles of alcohol for you to mix and match as you wish, only seeing the occasional person enter who'd greet you and refill their cup.

you wince when you begin to find the music has become much more bass accelerated, and you decide you need a breather. you would have guessed hongjoong would have retreated upstairs with a girl by now. you guess wrong, however, when your eyes briefly meet his in the midst of the sea of bodies.

his eyes are wide, puppy like, vivid colours reflecting in his pupils. he looks at you expectantly, ignoring the people trying to catch his recognition left and right. he opens his mouth, as if about to say something, before a girl tugs on his arm, sidetracking his attention again.

you keep your head low, shaking it as you run a hand through your hair. you make it through the living room, the foyer through to the dining room, and make a quick move to lock yourself in the bathroom noticing it's vacancy.

the door acts as a soundproof wall, concealing you from all the commotion, the chaos. what was the point of showing up anyway? you had false hope - nothing was going to happen between the two of you even if you got down on your hands and knees and begged.

in truth, kim hongjoong is a coward. it doesn't matter how hard he tries to deny it, it's simply his thing. he makes a move, poised and mighty. but once the conviction begins to fade he shrivels into nothing more than a drop in the ocean, and hides his uneasiness by picking up another side chick. one moment he loves you, the next, he doesn't.

you shake your head, hands resting on either side of the sink. your heart is racing rapidly, and you feel pathetic. you feel pathetic because you know that your cheeks are red because of him. your palpitating heart is because of him. your thighs pressing together is all because of him.

you hate him, is what you keep telling yourself. you hate him and his reckless actions, his arrogance, his popularity, his likeability, his devilish smile, his handsome face, his perfect body- fuck. that's not it. you don't hate him. you hate how much you love him, how deeply you fell for his charms.

your index finger drags along your aegyo sal, wiping away smudged mascara and eyeliner. your eyes settle in the mirror dragging over your worn expression, and you sigh. it'd probably be best if you left before it got too late.

you jump slightly when there are a few desperate bangs at the door. "c'mon! gotta fuckin' piss-" you snatch your phone from the shelf, frantically unlocking the door and pushing it open, running off before you could face any confrontation.

maybe you were just a coward too.

you immediately approach the adjacent door which leads to the garden. reaching for the handle, you swing it open and slam it closed behind you before anyone else could follow. your back rests against the cool glass, and you exhale softly, finally being able to find some peace and quiet in the midst of the clamour.

you catch your breath, pulling out your phone from your back pocket and opening it to call an uber.

"i was almost convinced you weren't gonna show."

your eyes clamp shut. make it a nightmare. make it some sort of weird twisted dream. maybe someone spiked your drink - perhaps you were just hallucinating.

you blink once, twice, before hongjoong's index finger catches your chin. "hey. look at me." you can barely pick out his features, the dim lights emitting from the inside of his dining room just barely illuminating his cheekbones. "stop-.. running, from me.." he sighs out at the sight of your uncomfortable facial expression, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. he continues, before you can stop to think, "i try to talk to you, we give it a go, you regret ever giving it a go and run off, and this whole cycle repeats itself." his hands drift to your shoulders, down your sides before finding welfare on your hips. "and i don't think that's fair.."

his soft and rich tone makes your shoulders relax, and your head leans back, gently bumping against the door. "talk to me." you pull yourself together and shake your head, pushing him off you. "you talk like it's just me doing all the running. that's pretty ballsy coming from you," the way he looks at you tells you he knows that. better than anyone else. "and why does it matter anyway. go back inside, it's your party. bet your side chick's already waiting for you."

to your dismay, his hands reach for you again. he ignores your snarky comments, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, forehead bumping against yours. his eyes are large; doe-like. they're nothing short of innocent, but you're not blind to the small flames kindling within his pupils.

"i want to know why you're ignoring me. why you've stopped loving me so abruptly." his eyes fall shut and his eyelashes tickle your forehead. "otherwise i might have to make you tell me.." he tilts his head ever so slightly, soft, pillowy lips brushing against yours. "hongjoong.." your voice only comes out in the form of a whisper, and it makes hongjoong nod softly. "shh baby.. i've got you, it's okay."

"i don't-" "what happened, y/n? just abruptly telling me you're breaking up with me and then avoiding me for weeks on end isn't you. you're better than this!" "you're not right for me, hongjoong!" shit. that came out wrong. like that, the flames in his pupils douse. hongjoong's shoulders droop and his hands fall, but his eyes stay glued to yours. "no," you shake your head, rephrasing. "i'm not right for you."

"what makes- what makes you say that?" "listen to me closely, hongjoong." he wished you'd use his name in a brighter light. "i'm not right for you." "you're repeating the same shit but you're not telling me what it fucking means!" he rips away from you, a hand tugging through his hair. "what the fuck happened?! i thought we were doing well i-, i made sure you knew i loved you and i tried to make time for you-" "that's my problem! you're too busy- you've got no time for me! you've got dance, singing, producing, all these fucking parties! where does that leave me? does it make me love you any less? no! but i can't afford to be neglected by you!"

hongjoong's mouth opens and closes like a fish, trying to wrack his brain for something- anything! but deep down he knows you're right. he's busy, he can barely catch a break. and then off he goes throwing parties when he should be spending time with you. but somehow, 90% of what you say goes through one ear and out the other-

"you still, love.. me?" you scoff. "of course i do. but i just.. think it's better if you move on an-" "why do i have to move on when i haven't lost anything?" a smile grows on his face, and he grips your wrists excitedly. "i- i thought you hated me! and-" "are you not grasping anything i'm saying right now!" you yell over his excited yapping. "i'm saying!-" he quiets down to a soft pause. "-..you need to find someone who suits your needs better."

you barely register his sudden movements as he bursts forward, taking your cheeks in his hands as he slams his lips against yours. his eyes roll back as he sighs into your mouth. god how he's missed the feeling. he presses his body flush against yours, revelling in the feeling of, well, you. your addictive lips, your sleek hair, your compelling curves, he basks in you.

you try to break away, but your body seems to have other plans, arching into him. "hongjoong-" it's not longer than a second before he once again encapsulates your lips with his. you try to make out a sentence between desperate kisses. "we- .. we- shouldn't-" his front teeth graze your bottom lip, and he pulls you nice and tight against him, just the way you like it.

you would have made more of an effort to flee if it didn't feel so fucking good. his hands never cease to wander your body like it's an uncharted island in the pacific ocean. if they're not massaging your waist, they're sliding up and down your exposed back. if they're not sliding up and down your exposed back, they're groping your ass. he just can't get enough of you- of how intoxicating you are.

"hongjoong for fucks sak-" "shh." he smirks softly against your lips. he knows that bit by bit, little by little, you're giving in to him. or more, the idea of him. you melt into his hold, whining a little at an attempt to show your frustration. but he just coos mockingly, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head. your right leg naturally hikes up against his hip, and he holds it in place with his vacant hand. "so good for me," his lips part and he kisses your nose. "such a good girl."

you can't believe this is happening. you're internally sour, trying to search for any reason left in this bottomless pit of lust you're drowning in. you can feel it rising inside of you, and it'll swallow you up eventually.

you don't think you've ever wanted him so bad. in fact, you don't think you've ever wanted anyone as badly as you do right now. you have to have him. otherwise it might just eat you alive.

"do you want-.." he's breathless, making sure your eyes never leave his. he's stuttering over his words, suddenly finding himself shrink under your gaze; it almost makes you smile. "uh- no pressure, by the way i-" your finger gently drags along the surface of his lip, deep red nail getting caught in the dip between them. you whisper softly, pulling him in for a soft kiss. "let's go."

sneaking away could have definitely been easier if hongjoong didn't always blatantly stick out like a neon highlighter in a tub of black markers. man of the hour or not, he can't help being stopped and pinched into conversations left and right and your patience is thinning. "hongjoong.." you mumble, and he nods profusely towards you in apology, excusing himself to his mates and bidding them a good night.

"aye! hongjoong, over here!" "hey guys!-" you pinch his elbow, pressing your lips to his ear. "go over to one more person and you'll get it." he feels himself twitch in his pants, but he just rolls his eyes and smiles at you with a satirising tone. "c'mon babe!~ it's 3RACHA! i can't just ignore 3RACHA!" he tries to shake away the thoughts nagging him to turn back in his head, releasing his arm from your wrist and jogging towards them. so much for not neglecting me. your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek, and you swing back around, making a beeline for the stairwell.

you're aware of hongjoong's strict rule of the second floor being prohibited during parties, but regardless of it you sneak past the numerous couples humping one another in the hallway, climbing the stairs up to his bedroom.

you exhale softly with your forehead pressed to the door, hand resting on the golden handle. you shouldn't be this nervous. it's only been a few months, you used to spend more time here than you did in your own apartment. but once you step into the room and shut the door, the overwhelming scent of him leaves you dumbfounded. your shaky hand drifts to the handle in a moment of diffidence, but you shake your head, and do nothing more than wipe your sweaty hands on the fabric of your dress.

you kick off your heels, feet dragging along the the off-grey carpet flooring as you trail over to his king sized bed. the satin sheets are cold against your lower thighs, and your hands gently grip the lush material. your eyes drift over his walls as you slip your arms out of the sleeves of your dress: his desk, his wardrobe, nothing had changed. however, what does catch your eye is a bottle of your signature perfume on his shelf, nearing its last millilitres.

you have your suspicions, bringing his pillow up to your nose. you sigh softly at the faint smell of your perfume lingering all over it. you haven't used that brand since you were last here all those months ago. you shimmy off the rest of your dress leaving you in your red lace lingerie, and you stride over to the shelf and pick up the small glass bottle. you flick the cap off with your thumb, and spritz the scented spray all over your body and the sheets.

laying back into the duvet, you feel your core throb with wanting and need as the aged memories invade your mind. your hands wander, just like his. they trace your curves the way he would, almost like it's muscle memory. "mh, joong.." you whisper to yourself as your back arches off of the mattress, unhooking your bra and tossing it to the side.

your hands fondle your breasts, and you let out the softest moan as your thumbs brush over your perky nipples. "hongjoong.." you whine the tiniest bit louder, hands hooking into your underwear and sliding them down your spread legs. sighing, your index and middle finger slip themselves between your folds, pushing them apart and lathering your wetness all over the digits. they slowly trace around your clit as you snatch your phone from the bedside table.

you would have never thought you'd be doing this again, but you open his archived chat left inactive for 5 months and click the camera in the bottom left corner. this was risky, and you'd be most likely to regret it. but nonetheless you begin recording, and whine softly into the phone. you feign innocence, pinching your clit softly between your fingers before you insert them both inside you. you gasp as you release an over exaggerated moan before hitting the send button.

you wait with a satisfied look on your face, watching one tick turn into two, from grey to blue. at that, your phone is forgotten, and your eyes flutter closed as you give your undivided attention to yourself.

hongjoong is becoming desperate. having to act like he didn't almost cream his pants at the sight of your wet pussy through his phone screen was tougher than he had originally imagined. he tucks his phone into his back pocket, trying to subtly adjust the baggy jeans hanging on his hips. while jisung and changbin eagerly talk to him, his eyes daintily drift to the side, catching seonghwa's gaze from the pool table.

seonghwa tilts his head, and hongjoong pats the side of his leg before tucking his index, middle and ring finger into his palm to form a phone sign. he holds it for two seconds before focusing back on the conversation he's having.

he thanks seonghwa indebtedly when it doesn't take much more than a blink of an eye before his phone vibrates in his back pocket. "sorry, i have to take this," he's apologetic, gesturing towards his phone. "have a good night guys!" he gives seonghwa a pat on the shoulder as he passes by, and seonghwa returns the gesture with a wink.

he can't resist himself as he walks through the hallway, opening the video again and feeling his cock throb violently in the confines of his jeans. he practically sprints up the stairs when you send another text: "you better hurry up or i'm leaving." it was a lie, obviously. hongjoong knew it too. but that didn't stop him from becoming overly eager.

he bursts through the door, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets at the sight of three fingers plunging in and out of your pussy, presented proudly out in the open for only his eyes to see, the erotic squelching sounds become apparent when he closes the door: "what took you so long," you sigh out accompanied by a breathy moan. "i'm sorry baby." he mumbles, already reaching for his belt as he kneels at the bed, unbuckling it and tossing it to the side.

"you should be," you pull your fingers out, using your clean hand to pull him into a sloppy, open mouthed, all teeth and saliva, kiss. "i'm expecting compensations." he pulls back with a grin, tugging his black tank top over his head. "of course, princess."

his knees straddle your hips, leaning down to press open mouthed kisses to your neck. with his jeans already hanging so low on his hips, your feet make a move to slide them off to his ankles, he finishes the job off, discarding them on the floor. the beautiful, overbearing scent of your perfume makes him shiver, and he grips the sheets on either side of you, striving ever so hard as not to completely lose control of himself. he wants to take this slowly with you, enjoy the moment of finally having you back in his arms again.

or at least that's what he would have liked, but it seems you had other plans. "so, you gonna fuck me or what?" you exhale, arching up into him when his lips find your pebbled nipple, suckling gently as his hand gropes your unattended tit. he supposes he could wait to take it slow another time.

"patience," he grins, drifting down to your pelvis, deciding this is where he wanted to leave his mark. "let me take care of you, sweetheart." he nips, sucks, kisses, littering red, lip sized marks all over your pubic bone, making sure they would last at least a few days. your hand reaches down to grip his gelled back hair, and he groans softly as you tug on the strands. your legs spread as he makes himself comfortable between them, and he swears he almost cums in his boxers when your ankle moves to the back of his head, violently shoving him into your wet pussy.

he moans out, arms wrapping around your thighs as his lips make contact with your clit. you taste better than he ever remembers. sweet yet salty, flavourful, delicious. "mmh, that's good.." you whisper softly, and the praise makes hongjoong ever the more motivated to pleasure you. "am i good for you baby?" you grin and nod softly. "so good." he smirks and coats his index and middle finger in your slick before pushing them into your already stretched out hole.

and you know the second that his fingers, longer than yours, push and curl into you combined with his tongue lapping away at your clit, that you won't last long. more of your slick drips out and onto hongjoong's hand; you can't remember the last time you were so desperate. "missed you so much baby." he whines out, unable to resist rolling his hips once, twice, into the mattress, trying to alleviate the aching in his boxers. "so- so good hongjoong- shit," you stutter out in between gasps and whines, feeling that familiar pit in your pelvis when his fingers drill themselves against your g-spot.

the long suck to your nub that follows straight after is what throws you over the edge. you're just tinkering on the edge of an orgasm, and you know it when your legs begin to shake. "hongjoong! hongjoong- please! oh god- oh fuck i'm cumming," you thrash around, legs wrapping themselves around his head and suffocating him in your pussy.

hongjoong feels his hard cock positively twitch and leak like a broken faucet as translucent, salty liquid leaks out of you and onto his stuck out tongue. he hums appreciatively, chest puffing up with pride when he realises he made you cum with just his fingers and tongue. faster than ever before, too. he makes the lewdest slurping sounds with his tongue, drinking you up as if he were a feral, famished man. at this point, he might as well be one.

"good?" he asks with a toothy smile, his sharp canines peaking out through his swollen lips. "so good. so good for me, joongie.." you whisper to him, running a hand through his hair before tightening it, curling and tugging him towards you. his lips meet yours in a kiss much gentler than any of the ones exchanged earlier, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. your hands reach down to feel around the wet patch of his pre-cum on the front of his boxers, and you make a fast move to tug them down his legs, tossing them to the side before pulling him into your arms. "think you deserve a reward, baby?"

he nods so eagerly, you swear you see a tail wagging behind him as he hums keenly. "yeah?" you croon, enjoying watching him become desperate to please you and himself too. he doesn't even make an effort to hide how eager he is to slip into you and fall into a deep abyss of euphoria, brain filled with nothing other than praise and pleasure - and maybe a little white noise too. "what does my baby want?"

"to cum.." he mumbles, leaning down to nibble at your neck while his cold fingers drift down to where he had left his bruises on you, tracing them lovingly. it was almost primal, to him. to see you marked up. it reminded him that you truly did belong to him. "wan' make you cum too- wanna cum inside.." he twitches when your hand comes to wrap around the base of his cock. "i'm so fuckin' hard.. i wanna fuck you so fuckin' bad, baby." he begs breathlessly, thrusting up into your hand for more friction.

"you're so lucky i love you," you mutter under your breath, and his breath hitches as his dick simultaneously twitches in response. his stomach erupts into butterflies, but he tries to suppress the mushy feelings for the post-orgasm conversation he knows he'll end up having with you whether you like it or not.

"you really are just leaking aren't you? so messy." you tease, thumb swiping over his slit and he curls into you with a hiss, eyes falling shut. "sensitive today, are we?" you mumble, twisting your fist around his cock head again to draw another reaction from him. "been hard all day," he admits, head falling into the crook of your neck. "wanted to wait so i could fuck you." you shake your head with a chuckle. "so bold to automatically assume i'd let you fuck me."

hongjoong honestly believes he sees the gates of the afterlife appear in front of him when he finally feels your wet heat press against his cock. you drag your folds up and down the base of him, using a mixture of your cum, slick and his leftover saliva to lubricate him. "w-well i'm here now, aren't- aren't i?" you sigh, guiding his tip to your sopping hole. "eh, i guess so." your palms rest against his back when you slam his hips down onto you in one harsh movement. hongjoong's breath is knocked out of him at the unexpected movement, and his fingers grip your hips as he whines loud. "oh fuck-!"

you've missed him so badly. skin to skin, lips to lips, heart to heart, you have him fully. you hum, head dropping back into the satin pillows. "that's it.. i've missed you, joong. missed this big cock so much." you don't think your cunt could ever get used to the delicious stretch his cock provides you with, with or without fingers beforehand. he just reaches that particular spot inside you that nobody else ever could, and it drives you absolutely mad with adoration.

but what snaps you out of your bliss is that you realise hongjoong has no plans of moving. his head just stays dipped into the crook of your neck, hands gripping your waist so hard the skin will positively bruise, panting hard. "hello?" you mumble, poking the side of his head. he grumbles out something unintelligible, and it makes you sigh, propping yourself up onto your elbows. "this pussy's not gonna fuck itself, is it?" your question is more rhetorical, but it makes hongjoong wince. "c-can't." his voice is strained, and you have an idea of why, yet you still choose to prod further. "what do you mean, 'you can't'?"

"feels too good.." he whispers, and you grin. admittedly, hongjoong is indeed, a very busy man. jobs, producing, lectures, dance classes, clubs, parties, he's everywhere doing everything all at once. but the most critical aspect of it all, was that he was loyal to you. he hadn't kissed, touched, or fucked a single other person since he last had you, holding onto that small slither of hope that he could win you back when the time was right.

that, however, now leaves him in a sticky - no pun intended - situation where he knows that if he doesn't pull himself together, he'll drain his balls within minutes of fucking you. "oh? poor baby.." you feign innocence, just for a few seconds before your legs wrap around his hips, beginning to grind up onto him in search of your own friction. "that's too bad."

hongjoong yelps, trying to ground himself by fisting his duvet into a death grip, little whimpers making it past his sealed lips. your hands take a hold of his hips, aiding you in your movements. "you gonna help me now, or what?" you grit out, and all he can do is shake his head frantically, bottom lip jutted out into a pout. "i- i'll cum baby- i can't!-" "so what? cum or not, we're not stopping until i do." he exhales shakily.

"so are you gonna be a good? or will i have to go find someone else who can fuck me right?" hongjoong grits his teeth, shaking his head and putting all of his body weight on you until you come to a stop, he experiments, thrusting up once, twice, before mumbling a soft: "okay.". you rub his back gently, whispering in return: "come on.."

the sudden snap of his hips catches you off guard. you squeak, hands frantically reaching for his biceps to ground yourself. "shit! th- that's it hongjoong! ngh-" he nods frantically, yanking your knees up to your chest to thrust even deeper. he groans, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to focus on how gorgeous you look beneath him, or how slick the sounds between you are, or how good your pussy feels, or how badly he wants to fucking cum.

he sets a brutal pace, balls slapping against your ass with every deep, meaningful thrust into you. "atta boy.. ohh baby i-" you gasp out, feeling the pad of hongjoong's thumb press down on your clit, rubbing up and down in synchronisation with his thrusts.

he pants hard and desperately it's almost concerning, lips parted and drool dripping from the corner of his mouth as he buries his head deep into the crook of your neck. you arch up into him, breasts pressing flush against his bare chest. your rhythmic clenching, the borderline salacious amount of wetness inside of you, the raking of your nails on his back, it's almost too much for him.

the longer he pursues you, the more he realises that he in fact, cannot wait, and will cum. he had tried not to too early, truly! but he had been close the second he walked into the damn room, and the amount of different versatile sensations he has no choice but to feel drive him over the edge. "baby- i can't- i can't i-" your legs wrap themselves around his hips, locking him in. "it's okay baby. go on. cum for me. fill me up."

with that, he's gone. you don't think you've ever seen him behave this way in the years you've known him. "oh godd yes- yes yes yes-" he's lewd, and he puts professional pornography to shame. the way he presents himself is obscene, head thrown back, eyes rolled into them. a staggered groan escapes him as he comes undone, his seed flowing inside of you as he gently rocks his hips, knuckles whiter than white with the pressure he's putting on the pillows either side of your head. you guide him through his orgasm, petting his hair softly.

his back glistens with beads of sweat among the moles and freckles dotted along his shoulder blades, and they flex as his arms slowly yet surely move to wrap around your torso. he exhales, nuzzling into you as he catches his forfeited breaths back.

you supposed that if he were unable to continue, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. it was even between the two of you now, and you were both correspondingly satisfied. you reach down and grip the base of him that isn't enveloped inside of you, and can't even begin to attempt to suppress the grin on your face when you realise he's still hard. "not satisfied yet, are you?"

he's about to defend himself, promise you he's not as filthy as he presents himself to be. but there's no need for it, seeing as you give him no time to rest before you climb on top of him, and start rocking your hips. and honest to god, hongjoong has absolutely no idea what to do with himself.

he's being used like a toy, and he loves it. but at the same time he isn't sure if you want him to help you or if he should take it, so many thoughts rushing through his mind but in reality he's just trying to stall so he doesn't cum again. he's a ragdoll in your arms, the pleasure he had been feeling a few seconds ago returning in an instant with a new found sensitivity, your pussy even wetter with his cum. he ever so desperately wanted to take back the dominance between the two of you, he knew he could do it. but the most he could do to even voice a reaction was curse loudly, cry out and throw his head back.

he takes it back. completely. there was no way he could do anything other than accept it without any objections. it was everything he had ever wanted and more, there was nothing going on in his mind other than perpetual euphoria.

"fuck i'm close," you whisper, cursing in approval when hongjoong's index and middle finger work at your clit in time with your bounces. "c-cum for me? cum for me baby?" hongjoong's eyes brim with tears, a mix of sentimentality and overstimulation. you nod frantically, finally letting the knot in your gut come loose, letting out a wail as your orgasm washes over you.

he whines softly at the feeling of you gushing around him, and he cums a second time. he fills you up again with a groan through gritted teeth, in smaller spurts with less amount than the first. you pant, falling limp on top of him with a grunt. "that was good," you hum, hand moving to trace his collarbone.

hongjoong's arms come to encircle around your waist, pressing you close to his chest as he begins to soften inside of you, making no move to pull out. he kisses your temple, one of his hands moving to the back of your head, caressing your dishevelled head of hair. hongjoong has never felt such relief as he does holding you, your body feeling just right with his, and he can't help but think to himself..

"i love you." he blurts out. the confession is rushed, panicked and hesitant. you feel his body tense up the moment he registers he's said it, but you just smile against his chest, poking him in the rib. "you're okay i guess." not getting the answer he wants, he groans. "princess.." his tone is whiny, and you giggle, sitting up to plant a passionate kiss to his lips.

"i'm joking, joong. i love you too."

#⋆｡°✩ star's fics #ateez #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong fanfiction #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong hard thoughts #ateez au

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covenofthearticulate · 5 days ago

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Short Writing Prompt: "What on earth are you wearing?"

Drabble Prompts | Always Accepting!

"What on earth are you wearing?"

Daniel stops in his tracks, spins on his heels to meet the accusatory voice at the other end of the hallway with a furrowed brow. Glancing down at his outfit, he can't help but dust his hands over the front of his jeans, shake out his shirt as if to double check that he is, in fact, wearing normal clothes and not a circus outfit.

"It's called...a shirt?"

He cocks his head at Louis.

"I mean, I dunno what you'd call it en français, but it's just—"

"Where did you get it?" Louis interrupts with a frown as he stalks closer.

"Ex-squeeze me?"

"Where did you get that shirt?"

He's half-tempted to twist around and grab the tag, just to free himself from those unyielding green viper eyes pointed right at him.

"Uhh...I don't remember. Target, probably. Or maybe it's Prada, I can't tell the fuckin' difference anyway, Armand probably—"

"That's my shirt," Louis says, and he looks every bit as confused as Daniel.

"...why would I have your shirt?"

"That's precisely what I would like to know, Daniel."

He plucks at the neckline of the shirt, feels the fabric with his fingertips as if it will somehow jog his memory. It's just as old as any shirt Daniel has ever lounged in; the few holes and snags along the collar and sleeves don't seem particularly out of place, but then again, Daniel can't remember the last time Armand allowed him to keep something so tattered.

"Well, Christ, I dunno! Sorry, I guess!" He shrugs when Louis looks as if he's expecting an answer. "I just picked it—"

He pauses, for a moment, as the pieces finally click for him and he realizes how, precisely, he ended up in Louis' ratty old t-shirt.

Lips curling into a smile, he meets Louis' gaze dead on. "I picked it up off the floor in Armand's room."

Oh, Louis. Sweet, human Louis. For a moment, his face flushes in what Daniel can only assume is embarrassment, followed by indignation, anger, humiliation, and finally, a sheepishness that casts his eyes toward the carpet.

"Oh."

"Do you want it back?" Daniel switches to the offensive, reaches for the hem and pulls it halfway over his head. "Here."

"Keep it," Louis snaps.

"You sure?"

"Shut up, Daniel." He's halfway back down the hallway, now; no doubt retreating to his study where he'll stew for the next few hours.

"Let's start a laundry schedule, alright?" Daniel yells after him, anyway. "You get your clothes from his room on Mondays and I'll do mine on Wednesdays!"

"Shut up."

#;answered #drabble #;drabble #;my writing #LMFAOOOOOOOO they are so funny i love them so much #louis de pointe du lac #daniel molloy

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anakinskywalker97 · 9 months ago

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Rise of Skywalker

Darth Vader x Ex-Padawan Reader

Chapter Two: Finding Obi-Wan

Chapter One

Summary: You take Anakin to Tatooine to find his old master in hopes of settling off in a new direction.

Warnings: this is all fluff / hurt/comfort. No smut, idk how but I kinda made a plot for this story, so I guess this is a bit of a slow-burn for the next bit.

So he made the choice to follow you.

This was easier said than done. You would not let him wear the suit. You fought with him and he surrendered. He wore some cotton robes he had stashed away. He hated how they reminded him of his time with the Jedi, but being able to move properly was a welcomed trade-off.

You granted him the request of bandaging his face before he followed you out into the unknown. He left his chambers for the last time, your hand intertwined with his pulling him along.

Getting into a fighter felt good, sitting in the cockpit next to you was even better.

“Where are we going.” You asked him looking at the different controls.

“My father -” Vader realized his mistaken words a moment too late. They had already left his mouth, you gave a nod and punched in coordinates for Tatooine. All of your decisions were one with the force, that's why you always landed on your feet, so he didn't correct you. When he said father, he meant Palpatine. But rushing the Sith lord looking like a mummy with his old padawan didn't seem smart.

Going to Tatooine seemed unbelievably painful, but seeing his mother's grave would be nice. He had a lot to say to her. He wondered why you assumed that his father would be there. You knew his story better than most. Maybe some grand force connection point would be there and someone would finally tell him what to do with this stupid prophecy.

He knew that the emperor had sent him into deep space to have a break from him after his inability to locate the rebel base. Palpatine was working on something that required a lot of concentration. Sure he might have noticed Vader’s change within the force but he doubted it. Looking at things from this position next to you he realized how stupid he had been. How pointless his role was after he had helped kill off the Jedi.

He had lots to think about, the ship had switched to autopilot and he observed you pull out a paperback. You folded your legs up onto the seat and he remembered all the times you had done this next to him. He rested in your familiar presence. Only then could he feel how deeply attuned you were within the force. It was like looking into a star when he closed his eyes and felt its presence around you.

“You didn’t fight me yesterday.” He asked wanting to know why you had seemed so weak and disconnected the night before.

“I didn’t get the chance.” You mumbled absently. Back when you had been his Padawan you once threw a filing cabinet across a meeting room in a fit of rage and that was an accident. He’d seen just how far your reach was in battle and it was much farther than the Grand Masters that trained you. Reaching across the room to your lightsaber should have been a piece of cake, especially if you were under threat.

“You seemed weak within the force.” He stated watching you carefully.

“My master told me to leave that life behind. That’s what I did.” You answered honestly, there was a deep bitterness in your chest. A wound he had left, one he had no salve to fix.

“I’m sorry.” He said not sure what he was apologizing for this time.

“I know.” You said simply. “It's not gone, within me. It's always around me, it's just pulls me along these days. Up until yesterday anytime I tried to use it, I don't know how to describe it. It felt like rejection. In some ways I wonder if it was keeping me hidden or something.”

The rest of the time passed as he asked you questions about your life. You were a smuggler, you had an apartment on Yavin 4. You didn't work with the rebels but occasionally piloted for them if you thought they had a good cause. You lived alone. You ran runs alone but occasionally, you smiled, you did runs with a friend. Jealousy burned through him. He was happy you had a mostly danger-free life compared to what it was during the Clone Wars when he had trained you. It was however very lonely.

Tatooine was it’s usual hellscape. It was nice to have one thing that managed to be consistent throughout his life. He let you land and choose what direction they went in. Observing you choices carefully but feeling no resistance from the force. They traveled through the mountainous rocks and felt no threat from Sand People.

When you got to what appeared to be a house carved into one of the rocks. He was about to correct you, and tell you that this wasn't his childhood home when a presence moved within the dwelling. It was too weak to determine its owner. When the door opened a familiar face took him in. Would he even recognize him? He looked like a mummy next to you.

But unarmed and hands open Obi-Wan walked toward him. He said nothing embracing Vader in a hug. For a moment he thought about killing Obi-Wan as it had been a personal mission for so long. Obi-Wan was impossibly calm, his peace radiated through his body around Vader. He used to find this so unbearably annoying, and now for the first time, he welcomed it. Obi-Wan didn’t have anything to hold over Vader, he just accepted him as is. It felt like a big burden was lifted from his shoulders.

Vader finally caved and wrapped his arms around his former master. Finally able to accept him for who Obi-Wan was. They were two sides of a coin, mirrored opposites. He watched you closely as you abandoned him and went into the house. He felt weird being alone with Obi-Wan but he was happy that your skin was out of the harsh sunlight. Obi-Wan released him and looked into his eyes. He knew they were still an awful red, but he also wasn't sure what side of things would be his final outcome. Things needed to be balanced.

Obi-Wan motioned for him to sit on a large rock. What happened next was surprising.

“I’m sorry. I was blinded, I only realized this after communication with Qui-gon.” Obi-Wan said softly, then filled Anakin in on the force ghost concept. “I failed both of you. You were my responsibility, my brother. I should have never left you alone with anyone, especially not a politician.”

“I made my choice,” He said firmly frustrated by the man's guilt, he much preferred the master who was above it all. Not the man, the brother he had left behind.

“The choice you were groomed into,” Obi-Wan said with a finality to his voice that reminded him of many past arguments. This one he was happy to lose.

“You need to come inside, out of the sun,” Obi-Wan said hurriedly finally taking in his bandaged appearance. Vader sat uncomfortably next to you at Obi-Wan's table. He listened as they discussed his medical needs, all the advanced procedures. His skin, his lungs, if he would even need a new suit. They decided going to Yavin 4 would be best as they had the best medical and your apartment was there. He perked up at the idea of seeing more of your life, how you lived. He trusted you to know about the medical side of things, that was always an area of special interest for you. His power was still unmatched and the rebel base was little threat to him and by extension you.

“The climate there will be easier on your skin, I have no doubt we will find a good solution there,” Obi-Wan said before getting up to grab some drinks.

Then he was sitting there listening to all the rebel plans and current politics. He was at a table with the man he needed to kill while being handed everything he needed to destroy the rebels. Both you and Obi-Wan were out of practice, it wouldn't be a challenge for him to kill both of you and give all this over to his master.

He thought of the power. Then he heard you let out a loud laugh. His attention moved to you as you ran over to the window sill.

“No don’t engage with it.” Obi-Wan scolded as you picked up a sand cat. They were normally rude but not necessarily dangerous, he had never seen one this affectionate though. He was waiting for it to attack you. “Take it outside.”

“But he’s so cute.” You said enjoying the way it nuzzled against your chest. Eventually, you took it out to the front door and watched as it hurried away. You paused at the door for a moment looking at the sunset. He thought of killing you one last time and knew that he would be unsuccessful. You looked at the sun from the doorway the same way he had observed his mother doing countless times. There was a lot to you, he had trained you to be a ruthless fighter, dangerously independent, all things you already had in you. But there was also the softness he felt only fell on his eyes, parts of you he selfishly wanted all to himself. You were beyond kind and caring, a nobility about you he knew he would not be able to sway. Those parts of you were the closest thing he could compare his mother's love to. She had been beaten down badly by the world and yet helped everyone and somehow always had enough left over for him.

You came right back to his side and rested against his shoulder. You were totally relaxed. You knew that he wouldn't betray you, but why?

Because you never wanted to in the first place - Your voice rang in his head and shame gripped him. He had to be more careful with his thoughts. They force bond between the two of you had tripled compared to how it used to be.

Don't shy away from me now. I like the way you look at me - you gave him a look that ended the night.

“‘Dinner and bed,” Obi-Wan announced before moving into the kitchen.

They made a nest out of cushions and blankets in the living space, the two of you could have stayed on the ship but he could sense how badly you wanted to stay in the house. Sleeping away from you was not an option for him so he didn't suggest it. After a lot of insisting on who would take the bed, you finally convinced Obi-Wan to stay in his room.

Vader eyed the mash of pillows and blankets suspiciously, would you want to share a bed with him again? Maybe you would prefer it if he slept on the ship. Then he realized how stupid he was being, the chances of him actually sleeping were extremely low. Tatooine held too many painful memories for him to risk sleeping. They would drown him. He would sit here and watch over you while you slept.

It will be easier if you lay down first - You gave him a confused look as if it was obvious. He was about to argue with you when he realized you might see his inability to sleep as a form of rejection. He could sit here all night, or he could hold you. It was an easy choice.

He got down on the floor slowly and was surprised that it wasn't so painful. He tried to move over so you would have enough space. When you pulled his arm away from his side you gave him a look.

Is this not alright? - you cocked your head to the side. He opened his arms in response and felt you press against him with your head on his shoulder. - Wait does this hurt?

No- he responded feeling more at home than he ever had under Palpatine's control or at the Temple. He felt like he was home. Obi-Wan’s strong force presence gave him a sense of comfort. He could catch you probing his mind now, and you sighed enjoying the same feeling. Happy the two of you were in alignment.

You see Obi-Wan as my father? - He asked softly.

No, it's just easier to see Qui-Gon when he is around - you answered sleepily. He had a million questions but wouldn't press you now when you needed rest.

That night he didn’t wake up to check your breathing, he was in a deep sleep trusting the two of you to be there in the morning. This was the first night he had really slept since he had sent you away all those years ago.

#anakin skywalker #star wars #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #obi wan kenobi #anakin x reader #darth vader #anakin redemption

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sweetpastillas · 3 months ago

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tom & elliot's role swap video is interesting to me because . what if luther and viktor Did switch some places in s4?

this would likely include [this is an au idea]:

a down-on his-luck luther, shifting through various jobs

in hindsight i just want more depth back for him

in this au, sloane is fully dead via reginald incompletely programming the universe & allison pressing the button early. let's visualize all the flashback montages we should have gotten over their 6 years, and insert in one where he finds her grave.

(this would cut to ben finding this out in a phone call, scowling with a hint of mourning, before turning away to greet more of his crypto buddies)

it says something like "sacrificed her life saving people from the fire of the hotel obsidian [or something heroic]."

he has no picture of her

it's not a timeline where he's fucked up, like the unshaven floorcrying on the moon or s1's furry rave breakdown. he's numb. happy to go to family events, not as stoic as s1, but numb every once in a while

he still picks up ben from prison. hugs him too tight – ben complains once.

he actually squeezes more often in his hugs. death is too real. klaus gets it but still panics for closeness and germs as they meet at the party

viktor, on the other hand, is as neutral as he's always been. happy without his powers, able to take deep breaths dealing with annoying regulars at the bar without rattling all the bottles on his shelves

he's happy to be part of the family – it's not like he has sissy or harlan left. so he answers his calls, sends the niblings pictures of canada wildlife, and is happy to go to every meetup. he's missed only a couple, because distance.

viktor's still the one most pissed about his powers coming back, at least. "i could put us at risk and the end the world again."

it's luther who's even more visibly awkward when allison shows up to grace's 6th. everyone can assume it's because of oblivion, but we the audience can guess it could be about the rumor SA and their complex history

we can take it to the town with keepers and evil santa – viktor and allison could have a different scene, one that acknowledges where they are now

("we've killed each other's children, we've hurt each other, but you asked me to trust you and i did." "i guess i can't ask you to be in my corner then." "show me a good reason to; i know you can" *cue proper alli redemption arc*)

but alli/luther... there's more hurt there because really the show broke their closeness and put a transparent bandaid to pretend it's still there despite s3. they used to be besties with a childhood that turned them into exes and circumstances have changed that into worse

so it's luther who tells her that "we can't be anything else, right now.. i don't think we can even be friends. i'm sorry"

allison and that brilliant thing where emmy raver lampman acts out trying not to cry

take your pick of reasoning – the SA, or he blames her in part along with reg for not programming sloane into the timeline. either because she went with it, or because she pressed the button early

in my au we settle loose ends btw. they talk it out or help each other in battle, as long as they make truce at the end.

we keep the exact scene as from the roleswap video. we also keep the deleted conversation with diego later on.

if we have to actually integrate the cia in any way (bc in this world, five works at an actual deli and spies on the keepers at night) one of them finds various files on them, and sloane too. takes the picture of her to keep it.

i say one of them because a viktor-diego arc would be cool and luther travelling with reg, actually calling the shots better would be interesting.

viktor's the one who both gets an insight into diego's vigilante fighter style, and is also there to let him figure out that change is ok. "the civilian life isnt so bad, here's an anecdote from something i actually liked about being ordinary back in the original s1 timeline."

(have i also said this au is just lila and diego missing the action in their lives but without cheating. they both work 9-5s and are tiredly trying to keep up and this is settled later)

no matter what the picture ends up in luther's hands by the end

it's what luther clutches amidst a proper final battle and ending, hoping to find sloane in the next life

#idk its like . id rather this be equal weight for viktor but hes been the one with most depth throughout the show #wanted depth back for old number one here #luther hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #writing ref #if you find this laid out exactly as is on ao3 that's me unless its without credit #tua #the umbrella academy #tua s4

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chronic-escapixt · 1 year ago

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His Rose ~ Part 2

(Kai Parker x Bennett OC fanfiction)

content warnings/tags ~ Dark fiction, CNC, dubcon, yandere, murder, abuse, trauma, smut, innocence kink, mutual attraction, slow burn, manipulation, childhood trauma mentioned. Minors DNI

I don't claim ownership of The Vampire Diaries or its characters. All credits go to the rightful owner(s). I only own my original character(s).

Word count: 1.7k

K.P. Masterlist

Burning candles lined each side of the table where Rose and Kai sat across from each other with a map between them. He suggested they use Portland, Oregon as a starting point to locate the ascendant. He told her it was the hometown of the Gemini leader. He lifted the dagger and dragged the jagged edge across his palm to draw blood before dripping it on the map. In turn, Rose started the incantation: “Phasmatos Tribum, Nas Ex Veras, Sequitas Sanguinem…”

He watched, waiting for the location to reveal itself but nothing happened. Even the flames kept a consistent burn, failing to rise as they should in reaction to magical energy. She continued the chant, her voice wavering until he stopped her. “What are you thinking about right now?” he asked.

“I don’t know… I just don’t want to mess this up.”

“That’s your problem. If you keep imagining yourself failing, then that’s what will manifest in your spells. Magic draws on your energy and emotions.” She nodded and took a deep breath to settle her nerves before beginning again. The crimson droplets twitched before they conjoined into one surging arrow as the candle fire erupted into a light roar. Rose peaked down at the map. “Keep going. You’re almost there.”

She continued until the blood gathered in one spot, the candle flames dying out in unison. “Oh. my. god. It worked…” she whispered as soon as her eyes opened.

“Don’t sound so shocked. You’re a Bennett witch. You know, my coven has a long history with Bennetts. Your magic has to be one of the most powerful of any coven, that’s why they seal prison worlds with it.” He searched her eyes, detecting insecurity, “you doubt yourself too much.”

Her face warmed, but she didn’t avert her eyes from his. “Thank you.. for the advice.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Without wasting time, they got on the road to Oregon, with Kai taking the first turn behind the wheel. After only half an hour on the road the silence unnerved him, prompting him to strike up a conversation.

“You never told me how you ended up here.” He glanced at her.

“The truth is, my sister Bonnie was supposed to, not me. Her life was bound to the Other Side but it was falling apart and I couldn’t sit back and let her die... again.”

“So, you sacrificed yourself for her?”

“Yeah.. I guess I did. I was looking for any way to help, then this spell practically fell into my lap. It let me switch places with her and time was running out so… I just did it.”

Confusion contorted his face “But why?”

She turned sharply, “Because she’s my sister and she always puts everyone before herself, especially me. But more than that, she’s the smartest and most beautiful person I know. If anyone deserves life, it's her,” she frowned, “if I had more time, I would have told her that.”

He wanted to ask more questions because truthfully, the idea of loving someone, let alone a sibling that much was.. odd, but he saw how emotional it made her, so he went the reassuring route. "You can tell her everything you need to when we get you back home."

She nodded.

After a day and a half, it neared midnight when they arrived in Portland. Rose snored softly beside him having been asleep for the better part of an hour. Kai took over the last stretch of driving, glad that she was sleeping so he wouldn’t have to pretend to follow the map. He didn’t need the locator spell in the first place. The ascendant was exactly where he left it. The spell was a test that showed him she had the ability to do magic. Her low confidence and inconsistency could be an obstacle but he hoped that wouldn't be an issue come the eclipse.

They pulled up to a large white house at the end of a gravel road surrounded by a modest expanse of field and woodland. He nudged her awake before they got out and approached the house.

“The ascendant is here?” she asked, staring back at the facade.

“The spell led us to this address,” he confirmed.

An odd feeling took hold of her. Maybe it was dread, but she couldn’t quite place it. Whatever it was left her feet stationary at the cobblestone just before the porch steps. “Rose… Roseee, are you.. coming?”

She nodded and followed him, pushing down the indiscernible feeling.

Little did she know, this place had unpleasant memories for many, especially those familiar with its bloody history. Having grew to befriend his demons, Kai found a twisted comfort with the place that nurtured them through a childhood of abuse and depravation.

They searched the house together, starting with the ground floor and moving deeper until they reached the study. Her eyes locked onto the brown trunk against the far wall. She removed the heavy grimoires stacked on top and fumbled with the lock.

“I have a feeling it’s in here but the trunk is locked,” she stated. Kai searched the desk, opening drawers until he found a small key. He crouched down beside her and put the key in the lock, turning until the subtle click sounded. She reached inside, pulling out a circular piece of metal with a small reflective crystal in the center.

Before the night ended, Kai brought her down to the nearby caverns which he said would be an ideal location to access direct moonlight for the spell. Rose followed in silent awe, tracing her fingers along the granite walls that glistened in hues of blue. They stopped below the skylight which granted direct access to the moon above. “It’s beautiful,” she remarked breathlessly. He turned to her, immediately noticing the way her eyes sparkled, taking on a silvery color in place of their usual hazel hue. Her gaze met his just before he could look away and pretend he wasn’t staring.

“We should head back and get some rest. It’s been a long day,” he finished with a stretch and a yawn.

Bubbles rose to the surface as he topped her glass with Pinot Grigio. Kai insisted she relax while he made dinner in exchange for the meal she made him the other night. She complied despite her desire to help, not only because she knew her way around a kitchen but also just to be close to him. His energy, his scent, the slightest physical contact gave her full body goosebumps.

Sip after sip had her inhibitions waning until her eyes shamelessly traced his body, the contour of his back, the ever moving muscles that bulged along his arms as he worked with his hands. He was saying something, but it all faded into the background. His broad shoulders were strained by his tight t-shirt, sleeves clinging to his biceps. She silently thanked him for taking off that hoodie before cooking. He poured some wine into the hot pan before bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a generous sip.

She watched with baited breath.

He swallowed then turned to her suddenly, “Do you like shellfish?”

“Yes!” She blurted out loud. If her face could get any hotter it would have, “I mean, yeah… shellfish is fine,” she murmured quietly. Kai turned back to the stove, stifling a chuckle.

They ate a shrimp pasta with a white wine reduction and finished off the bottle of Pinot. Perhaps it was the wine or the way he looked at her like she was the most interesting person alive but she felt open enough to tell him all about her life back in Mystic Falls.

Although he liked to talk, Kai was attentive to her stories, vampires, love-triangles, originals and travelers. He took particular interest when she mentioned a pair of twins, Liv and Luke Parker. “Bonnie met Liv in her occult studies class. She’s really powerful. She gave me a few lessons in channeling.”

Kai looked up from his wine glass, “what about the guy... Luke?”

Rose thought for a second, “Oh, I only met him once. He was nice and I heard he was even more powerful than Liv.”

As the meal wrapped up, he asked if she enjoyed it. “It was delicious. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

He chuckled. “I’ve had to cook for myself for almost 20 years now, so I’ve picked up a few things along the way.”

“How did you do it? Spending so many years alone without anyone to talk to must have been difficult,” she inquired.

Kai offered a strained smile, “Loneliness isn’t new to me. I've always been by myself for as long as I can remember.”

“Why?” she asked.

“My dad kept me away from my family. He said I was an abomination. In his defense, I’m not like other witches in my coven.. I can’t make my own magic. I can only siphon it from others. Ever since I was little, he forced me to stay away from everyone else or face whatever punishment he felt like doling out. Early on, I wanted to be around them, but I quickly realized it was safer to just stay to myself.”

“Kai, that’s horrible. He couldn't be more wrong about you.”

He raised his hand, “If I touched you right now, I could siphon your magic right out of your body. Doesn’t that scare you?”

Rose stared back unwavering, “I’m not afraid of you.” She closed the distance between their hands brushing her fingers against his. “I trust you and I’d let you have some if you asked, I'm not that good with magic anyway.”

For the first time, she did something he didn't expect. He could almost get lost in her soft touch and genuine eyes but couldn’t afford to. Reminding himself of his plan in which her purpose did not include making him vulnerable. His hand slid away and he rose from the table.

“I should get started on the dishes.”

“I’ll help you,” she chirped after him.

“No-no, I got it,” he insisted.

She frowned, suddenly noticing his mood change. Whether she had crossed a boundary she wasn't supposed to or the topic of his childhood made him uncomfortable (or both), she didn't push it any further, hoping that by giving him space, he would feel more at ease and open up to her about his past but clearly, that wouldn't happen tonight. Rose stood up and said goodnight before heading upstairs.

#kai parker #bennett oc #bonnie bennett #tvdu #tvd fanfiction #vampire diaries #the vampire diaries smut #kai parker smut #kai parker fanfiction #kai parker x oc #kai parker x poc reader #tvd kai #dark!fic #dark kai parker #kai parker x y/n #kai parker x reader smut #tvd oc #tw dubcon #tw yandere

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kitten4sannie · 2 years ago

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𝐂𝐡. 𝟐: 𝐑 𝐔 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞?

ch 1

Ex Boyfriend! Wooyoung x Fem! Reader

Genre: gratuitous smut, angst

Summary: After having a pleasant night out with your friend, seeing Wooyoung's name pop up on your phone almost made you scream. You knew that even if you had ignored his call, he would just keep calling you back, so you gave in — just like every other time.

W.C: 6.5k (could be longer cuz I didn't check when I edited it lol)

Warnings: exes with benefits, switch! Wooyoung (yes you read that right 🥵), switch! reader, weed use, Wooyoung's still a dick, toxicity, lots of swearing, there are feelings involved (that's as descriptive as i'll get ;;), name calling, degradation, use of the word "baby", ownership kink, filthy dialogue, spit play, messy blowjob, deep throating, brief cum play, face riding, manhandling, rough/passionate (unprotected) sex, choking, multiple positions, kissing, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie

A/N: writing this one out just really hit different fsr and now i'm kinda sad that this is the...end?? maybe? who knows i might have some more ideas up my sleeve :] but i hope you all enjoy 🖤💔

p.s: take a tiny sip of water every time Wooyoung or y/n say “fuck/fucking” and you’ll be incredibly hydrated 💕

Fic Playlist

Masterlist

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"Byeee, get home safe!" you called out to your friend, watching as she opened her car door and craned her neck back to look at you, giving you a small smile and a peace sign. You repeated her actions, waiting for her to get into her car, before you followed suit.

Once you got situated inside your own car, you unlocked your phone to set up a queue of songs for your drive home, almost throwing it onto the dash when you saw Wooyoung's name pop up on your screen. "Awesome," you mumbled to yourself, bringing your thumb and index finger up to squeeze the bridge of your nose, sighing in dismay.

You saw there with your phone buzzing against your hand for a few seconds, ears zoning in on the sound of your heart racing inside your chest. "Fuck, okay." You leaned your head back against the headrest and reluctantly answered his call, snapping, "Let me guess. You want me to come over, right?" And you're not going to take no for an answer, are you?"

"Mm, you're already wound up all nice and tight for me, huh?" your ex returned in a low voice, unable to see the way you were gripping your thigh with your free hand. "I like that."

You let out an ‘augh’ sound, as if you were disgusted, making an attempt to bring him down a peg or two. ��Of course you would. Your life must be really sad if you get turned on just by the thought of arguing with me.”

"Yours must be even worse since you're always willing to become an obedient little cumdump for me," he replied swiftly, chuckling when he didn't get a response, except for a small gasp on your end. "I'll see you soon, y/n."

Hearing Wooyoung simply hang up the call after what he had said should've made you mad, but it almost had the exact opposite effect on you — once again proving that the both of you were one and the same. Quietly ignoring the butterflies that were trying to escape your stomach, you pressed on a random song in your playlist and put your car in reverse, not even noticing when your lips curled into a small smile.

* * *

"Sup." You waved at Wooyoung from the doorway, kicking off your shoes and setting your bag down, then joining him on the couch.

"Hey," Wooyoung mumbled, not noticing how delayed his response was. "Took you long enough." He already looked high as hell, with red and glossy eyes, along with his voice coming out like he had just taken a tablespoon of sand.

"Uh-huh." Getting comfortable, you brought your foot underneath your opposite leg and leaned back into the cushion, smoothing out your skirt a bit and leisurely fixing the length of one of your kneesocks.

Wooyoung's gaze slowly traveled up and down your body, causing his Adam's apple to bob inside his throat. He unconsciously grabbed at the crotch of his joggers, his tongue just barely poking out of his mouth to swipe over his bottom lip. "Wow, you actually got dressed up this time. You look...good."

Despite being used to Wooyoung's 'compliments', his words still sought to get under your skin. However, you swallowed your annoyance down, for now, as you were far more interested in the way your ex was blatantly eye-fucking you. "Well, yeah, I had plans before this, but that's not even the point. You usually call me late at night, so do you really expect me to come over with a full face of makeup and a whole coordinated outfit, or what?"

While you had been talking, Wooyoung made the best use of his time, bringing his bong up to his lips and lighting it, idly glancing down at your thighs. He sucked inward for a while, then pulled the mouthpiece out, still inhaling, all while internally pondering how he should answer you. Once the vapor drifted out of his mouth, he shook his head, replying, "Nah, just like...put on some mascara or something."

You took the bong from him when he passed it to you, silently taking a hit and mulling over his words, unable to keep yourself from smirking once you had exhaled. "Why? So you can watch it run down my face when you're fucking my brains out?"

When you had motioned for him to take the bong back, his slender fingers settled on yours for a moment, not making an attempt to pull away. "Ideally, yeah," he nodded lazily, his brown eyes lingering on your glossy lips. "I want to cum all over that slutty face of yours, too...and make you all messy."

Feeling your body respond to what Wooyoung had done and said, you leaned closer to him, your shoulders touching. "You never get tired of doing that, do you?" you asked, setting the bong down on the floor, so that you could rest your hand on Wooyoung's thigh, your fingertips just barely reaching the inseam of his pants.

Chuckling softly, Wooyoung shook his head, casually grabbing your hand and moving it farther up his leg, until he went stiff upon hearing his phone vibrating against the armrest of the couch. He immediately reached for it and pressed on one of the multiple text notifications he had received. “Hold up.”

You looked down at his phone, your once inquisitive expression melting into one that could only be described as pure disgust. “Are you actually serious right now?” you scoffed in disbelief, watching as Wooyoung scrolled through some highly explicit nudes that some rando had sent to him.

“What? Don’t act like you’re not fucking around with other people. Jesus, y/n, get off your high horse.”

“High horse? Really? It’s not even about that! You just–…ugh…never mind.” You shook your head slightly, not having the energy to get into it with Wooyoung for the thousandth time.

Wooyoung let out an exasperated sigh, typing something back to the stranger and repositioning himself on the couch. “Give me a minute, okay? Just fill up another bowl and I’ll be done before you know it.”

“Fine, whatever,” you huffed, grabbing the grinder that was sitting on the cluttered coffee table and opening it, grumbling something rude under your breath.

“What was that?” Wooyoung eyed you through his peripheral, one of his eyebrows raising slightly.

You carefully filled up the glass mouthpiece, shaking your head a bit. “Nothing, just hurry up.”

“Uh-huh.”

You initially thought you had gotten over the way Wooyoung was still just sitting there in silence and ignoring your presence so that he could sext someone — since you were occupied with the abundant offering of weed he provided you. However, when you had reached a comfortable high, you finally began to feel pissed.

“Why did you even fucking call me over here, if you’re just going to do that, huh?” you questioned bitterly, just in time for you to witness your ex shamelessly pulling his dick out and wrapping his fingers around it, while using the other hand to hold his phone up. “Woo, are you s–”

“Shut the fuck up.” Wooyoung glanced in your direction, giving you a dirty look, before he began to stroke himself, exhaling when he started to get hard, pressing the record button.

Growling out of frustration, you moved toward Wooyoung, reaching your hand out. “Give me that shit,” you remarked, snatching his phone out of his hand and tossing it onto the carpet. Before he had a chance to retaliate, you dropped down to your knees in front of him, pushing his thighs apart from one another so that you could fit in between them.

“What are you…aaaah-oh, god…” he reacted, gripping his upper thigh when he felt your soft lips and tongue encase the tip of his cock, watching as you slid them down along his length and back up a few times, letting out a small noise of approval when you did it agonizingly slow the last time around.

You swirled your tongue around the tip languidly, prior to flicking it across the small slit, earning a groan from Wooyoung. “That’s what I fucking thought,” you taunted, using your thumb to rub against his frenulum in small, gentle circles, knowing that it was sensitive.

“Oh, shit…that feels good…” he exhaled, ignoring your attempt at slighting him, too caught up with the lust that was flooding his senses. “Spit on it, baby.”

You froze for a second when you heard what he had called you, which was unusual, since you had been used to him calling you that, but suddenly it seemed to yank at your heartstrings. Ignoring this revelation, you eventually obliged his request, drawing saliva into your mouth and letting it drip down onto his cock, one long string at a time, all while your dilated eyes gazed up into Wooyoung’s glazed-over ones. “Like that, Woo?”

“Uh-huh. Now, get to work,” he smirked, his cock growing harder inside your hand.

“Sounds good~” you purred, almost forgetting that you were supposed to hate him, your fingers tightening around his length and pumping it quickly, your lips attaching to his cockhead.

He drank in the sight of you, incredibly pleased with the way you were looking at him, his fingers slipping into your hair. “Messier, baby.”

You slurped on his twitching tip, bringing some of your spit into your mouth, then spitting it back out, moaning softly when it dripped down the sides of his cock. You moved your saliva around with your tongue, making sure to run it across his slit a few times, teasing him once again.

“That’s it…” Wooyoung slid down against the couch slightly, spreading his legs open a bit more, only snapping out of his hazy state when he heard his phone buzzing on the carpet, most likely receiving a FaceTime call from the ignored individual. “Hey, can you grab my phone and hand it to me?”

As your brows drew close and your nose scrunched up in anger, you tightened your grip around Wooyoung’s member, resisting the urge to squeeze it until you heard a disconcerting sound. “You gotta be fucking kidding me!”

Wooyoung let out an abrupt chuckle, not meaning what he said in the slightest, but just simply saying it for your reaction. “Mmm, you must really want to suck my cock, if you’re getting this upset over some nudes.” Without any warning, he grabbed your chin and tilted it upwards, forcing you to look at him. “You’re jealous, huh? Answer me, slut.”

“Yeah, and what about it?” you retorted, glaring daggers up at Wooyoung, your lips forming a small scowl. “I took time out of my night to see you, so I expect to have your full attention and not have to compete with some stupid cunt I don’t even know!”

Another pleased laugh escaped from Wooyoung’s throat, a rare grin gracing his irritatingly handsome features. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get this jealous. I’m kind of shocked, actually.” He leaned in and pulled your face closer in his direction as well, so that he could clearly see your next reaction. “Did you fall in love with me again, y/n? I wouldn’t blame you. I know you can’t help it.”

For a second there, the fear on your face was visible, but was quickly replaced with your usual display of annoyance. “Just shut up and let me suck your dick, before it goes all limp on me!” you protested, wrapping your fingers loosely around the base of his cock and pumping it again, encouraging Wooyoung to release his grip on you and allow you to go back to what you were doing earlier, but with more enthusiasm.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby…” Wooyoung’s long fingers remained entangled in your locks, but he didn’t pull at it, instead stroking it in an oddly affectionate manner. “Are you gonna deep-throat my cock? Huh? Are you gonna show me how much a slut like you loves sucking dick?”

Wooyoung’s baiting words only served to fuel your desire to see him cum for you. You didn’t even let yourself tease him anymore, and instead, allowed him into your throat, relieved that your gag-reflex wasn’t as active this time around. “Mmmmfff…” was all you could manage to get out, wanting to look up at Wooyoung, but unable to do so, with the way your irises were disappearing behind your shutting eyelids.

“Jesus Christ, I wish you could see the face you’re making…” he exhaled, somewhat shakily, gathering up your hair and holding it so none of it could hide his view of your face. “You’re such a fucking whore for me. I bet that cunt of yours is dripping already, just from having my cock down your throat.”

Feeling your pussy clench around nothing but air, you bobbed your head diligently, shoving most of his length down your throat in a way that drove him absolutely crazy — unable to hold yourself back. The thickening drool that consistently pooled inside your mouth slowly dripped down your chin and chest in abundance, letting you hear Wooyoung groan in approval.

“F-ffffuuuck, I…Oh, god…I think I’m…” his voice trailed off, unable to finish his sentence, knowing he was about to cum at any given second.

“Mm-hmm? Mm-hmm?” you moaned onto him, giving it your all, as if your rent was due tomorrow. You gripped his lower thighs, reluctantly pulling yourself off of him when you heard him mutter the word ‘open’, wanting to giggle after he could barely form the two syllables.

Cum shot out of Wooyoung’s cock, mostly landing near your mouth and on your chest, causing a small gasp to leave your lips. “Mm…” As if he was waiting for this exact moment, his fingertips were already rubbing the warm, sticky liquid all over your lips and chin, making sure to smear some across your cheek, appreciating how it began to mess up your makeup. “Look at you…You’re my messy little slut, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you answered softly, your jaw going lax, unable to hide how insanely turned on you were. Wooyoung took advantage of this and pushed his coated fingers onto your tongue, prompting you to close your mouth and suck on them, until they were clean.

“Good girl.”

You and Wooyoung sat there for a while, just looking into each other’s lustful eyes, neither of you knowing what to make of the unspoken jumble of emotions you both continuously decided to shove away.

Squeezing one of Wooyoung’s thighs, you smirked a bit, inquiring in a smug tone, “That must’ve felt really good, huh?”

“You were able to make me cum pretty fast this time, I’ll give you that. Though, my friend is still able to suck dick better than you, unfortunately…but, you know, practice makes perfect.” Wooyoung shrugged his shoulders, giving into his usual toxic routine and trying to bring you down, all the while his cheeks and ears were still flushed beyond measure.

“Oh my god, will you shut up already?” you rasped, as you shot up from the floor, angrily pulling your top up and over your head, then sliding yourself out of your skirt, revealing you had nothing on underneath — much to your ex’s delight. “I’m sick and tired of hearing the stupid shit you say! So fucking tired of it…”

“Oh, yeah?” he gauged, his voice almost coming out like a moan, clearly getting off on how much he was upsetting you.

“Yeah!” You suddenly grabbed Wooyoung by the shoulders and yanked him down onto the couch cushion below, instantly straddling him, so that you were positioned directly over his face.

Surprised by your sudden actions, Wooyoung simply stayed put, his eyes trailing from the band of your knee socks up to your dripping cunt.

You let out a huff, using two fingers to spread your pussy for him so that he could get a good look at it. “Why don’t you put that big fucking mouth of yours to good use? Hm? Does that sound like a good idea?”

“Excuse me? You think I’m just going to do what you say?” he scoffed, using one hand to smack your ass, grabbing it roughly afterwards, eliciting a gasp from you. “I’ll eat your slutty little cunt if I feel like it — not when you tell me to. Now, get off of me, before I kick your ass!”

He was about to continue his tirade when you gripped the sides of his head and pressed yourself onto his mouth, rubbing your wet folds on his plush lips. “Shut the fuck up and stick your tongue out.”

Pleasantly surprised by your aggressiveness, Wooyoung hesitated, but eventually obeyed, holding his tongue out, so that you could rub yourself on it, causing him to let out a small whimper, not able to hold it in.

“Mm, that’s it,” you mumbled to yourself, moving your hips at an increasingly desperate pace, wanting to cum as soon as possible. “Look at you. Just a second ago, you were so tough and scary, Woo. What happened?”

Wooyoung groaned out against you, using his tongue to lap at your slit whenever he could, your wetness leaking out into his mouth, causing his eyes to roll back into his skull. Of course, he loved having control over you, but he couldn’t ignore how painfully hard he was, so he decided to just go with the flow.

“Mmmm, that’s a good boy. You want to fuck me with your tongue next?” you questioned, in between pants, running your fingers through his hair, before gripping it roughly, earning an uncharacteristically whiny moan from him. “Answer me, you whore!”

He opened his eyes and looked up at you, his eyebrows knitting together in an upward motion, the tip of his cock now dripping pre-cum, as he emitted a muffled “Mm-hmmm!”

Normally, he would’ve gone ballistic from hearing you talk to him like that, but he was so turned on, he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. In fact, he desperately hoped you kept going.

“Good…” you exhaled, letting go of his head for a second to rake your fingers through your somewhat-tangled hair, moving it out of your line of vision and behind your ear. “You better make me cum.”

Wooyoung slid his hands past your ass and up near your hips, then angled himself so that he could push his tongue inside your pulsing hole. He dug his fingers into your skin, shoving his tongue in and out of you as deep as he possibly could.

You breathed heavily, fucking yourself on his tongue as well, feeling like you were already going to cum, not only from the pleasure, but from the shift in power. “You always…act so big and bad…but you really…you really just want to get treated-nnngh-like a little fuck toy, don’t you?“

Wooyoung whined against you, almost pleading with his glossy, watery eyes, giving you the answer you wanted when he moaned, “Uh-huhhhh…”

“You’re so pathetic,” you mused arrogantly, giving Wooyoung a satisfied smile, flashing your canines at him. You had sort of expected to see anger boil up to the surface of your ex’s features, but you were instead met with a face that only could be described as pure bliss. “Now, suck on my clit.”

Wooyoung obeyed, pulling his arousal-coated tongue out of your pulsing hole and wrapping his plush lips around your clit, sucking on it with varying levels of intensity, knowing exactly how to drive you to your breaking point.

“God, that’s…Oh, shit…” you reacted shakily, your vision starting to blur around the edges, unintentionally bucking your hips up. “I’m so close…Just a little…more…”

With his arms locking around you so that you couldn’t escape, Wooyoung alternated between licking and sucking, groaning when you squeezed your thighs around his head.

“Fuck…!” you cried out, squirting so incredibly hard that you faded out of existence for longer than you had anticipated.

Wooyoung panted softly against your pussy, quietly slurping up your essence, in between shallow breaths, a deep blush imprinted on his cheeks. His eyes were closed and his mind was clouded over, as he came down from his own high, despite not even being physically stimulated.

Once you came to, you let out a satisfied sigh, climbing off of Wooyoung and standing up, in order to reach out your limbs and stretch them. “Ahh, who knew you could be so tolerable? You gotta be a whiny little sub for me more often.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to wipe your cum off of his face, but unable to do anything about the arousal that had already wet his hair.

“Damn, relax.”

Feeling something on your lower back, you swiped at it and looked down at your hand, unable to hide your amusement when you saw the milky white substance dripping through your fingers. “Holy shit, did you cum just from that?” you blurted out, looking up and pointing at Wooyoung’s cum-covered abdomen. “Oh my god, you did!”

Wooyoung gritted his teeth tightly, unable to handle the amount of humiliation that washed over him, suddenly pissed that you were treating him like he normally treated you.

You were practically tingling from the newfound power you had felt, almost ready to cast aside your role as an obedient sub. Almost. “I guess you really like when I’m in control, huh? Should I use a strap on you n-”

Before you could finish, Wooyoung had already grabbed you by your upper arm and forced you face-down onto the couch cushion where he had just been laying, allowing you to feel the body heat that still remained there.

Pulling his t-shirt off with his free hand and tossing it to the ground, Wooyoung lowered himself to your ear, stating, “Don’t forget your place, y/n. I may have let you get away with that, but you’re still my little toy at the end of the day. You belong to me, don’t you?”

Biting your bottom lip, you wondered if you should give your ex the satisfaction of answering his question truthfully, afraid that it would cause his ego to double in size. “Just because you-”

“Don’t you, y/n? Isn’t that why you always let me treat you like this?” he interrupted in a low voice, positioning himself at your entrance, with his hand pressed onto the back of your head, pushing it into the couch.

“Mm-hmm…” you mumbled out, internally berating yourself for being so incredibly weak when it came to Wooyoung.

“Say it, y/n.”

Feeling the head of his dick just barely pushing inside your cunt and stretching you out, you began to nod your head against the palm of his hand, knowing there was no point in arguing with him. “I…I belong to you…”

Without giving you any sort of warning, Wooyoung grunted, plunging his cock into you, bottoming out in less than a second. “That’s fucking right.” Your obedience gave Wooyoung the incentive to destroy you, pushing him to begin slamming himself in and out of you, knowing he wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

A few mindless obscenities fell from your lips, as you felt your body completely relax into the cushion, taking Wooyoung’s rough treatment without any complaints.

Wooyoung took incredible delight in the way you always seemed to submit to him, letting out a few airy chuckles, his hips snapping into yours unapologetically. “That’s my…good girl…”

Unable to emit anything competent, you simply moaned and groaned periodically, your voice slowly rising in pitch and volume, your fingers digging into the edge of the couch, after hearing his puzzling choice of words.

He pounded into you relentlessly, making you cum somewhere along the way, but not stopping, until he felt the tight spring inside him threaten to uncoil. “Oh, shit…Get ready, baby…”

You felt your eyes becoming watery, actively refusing to confront yourself and face the fact that you were clearly upset over hearing Wooyoung routinely call you baby throughout the night. Of course, it turned you on immensely, but it hurt you more. “Just cum already, please…”

Wooyoung suddenly flipped you over, and shoved himself back inside you, leaning down so that he could drink in your expression, just as his cum started to pour into you.

“A-hhhh….”

“Can you feel it, y/n? All of my cum inside you? You love it, don’t you? Say you fucking love it!” he exclaimed, unable to keep his desperation hidden within his harsh tone.

You nodded weakly, gazing up at him, your thighs trembling against his. “I love it, Woo…”

Letting out a groan, he wrapped his fingers around your neck and slowly squeezed it in the right places, so that you felt like you were floating, the tips of your fingers tingling. “Say it again.”

“I…love…it…” you replied breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper, unable to stop a tear from falling down your cheek, which dragged a black streak of mascara down with it. You let out a small whine when Wooyoung leaned down towards you, so close that you could feel his lips moving near your jaw, his fingers releasing your neck.

“I know you do, baby…I know…” Wooyoung murmured softly against your skin, pumping his cum into your pulsing hole, only stopping when he thought he had sufficiently fucked it into you. “You look so pretty like this…” He pressed a thumb onto your cheek and wiped a bit of the mascara away, giving you a gentle smile, which only set off more alarm bells inside your clouded brain.

You couldn’t even think at this point, let alone make sense of the odd switch in character your ex had been displaying throughout the night. All you could do was lay there and try to catch your breath, your body warm and tingly, Wooyoung’s cum sliding out of you and down onto the cushion.

“Woo…I- um…” you started, without giving it much thought, only to close your mouth when he wrapped his arms around your waist, locking you in place.

“I'm not done with you.” Without even giving you a chance to react, he sat back against the couch, simultaneously lifting you up and down onto his lap, shoving his already-hard cock back inside your cunt, proceeding to buck his hips up into yours.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, gripping the top of the couch for stability, feeling a pleasant shiver go up your spine when Wooyoung slipped his fingers into the sides of your knee-socks and tugged on them a bit as he thrusted into you.

“Fuck, baby…How are you still so tight? Even after I just got done wrecking you?” Wooyoung studied your surprised face, just as he leaned into your body and sucked one of your tits into his mouth. “Hmm?” he mumbled on your chest, using the flat of his tongue to lap at your nipple.

You shook your head slightly, emitting a sharp gasp, not really knowing how to respond from being too caught up in the moment, as well as being focused on what you wanted from him. “Bite it, Woo…please…”

One corner of Wooyoung’s lips lifted up, as he rolled your nipple around between his teeth, before biting down on it with enough pressure to satisfy your needs, earning a delighted moan from you.

“Now, spit on it…”

Wooyoung pulled back ever so slightly, with his lips pursed, spitting on your breast and turning his head, so that he could spit on the other one. “Mm…Like that, y/n?” He used his thumb to rub his saliva around, making your skin glossy.

“Yeah, just like that…” Without realizing, you started to grind your own hips down into his, just as desperately as he was trying to shove himself up into you.

“I thought so…” he murmured, pushing your tits together in order to drag his tongue back and forth between them, groaning all the while.

“Babyyyy…” you let slip out, bringing him to let go of your breasts so that he could caress your cheek with his warm fingers, neither of you breaking eye contact for what seemed like an eternity. “It feels so fucking good…”

“Yeah?” Seeing you nod right away, Wooyoung leaned his forehead against yours, his lips just barely brushing over your parted ones. “Are you going to cum on my cock again for me, y/n? Huh? Are you going to squirt all over it?”

“Uh-huhhh…”

“Then fucking do it.”

You cried out in ecstasy, careening over the edge from the way he was acting with you, whimpering when Wooyoung’s hands returned to your waist and squeezed it so tightly that you thought he might leave handprints on your skin. “Oh, god, I’m cumming…!” you whined shakily, tossing your head back and closing your eyes.

“Uh-uh.” When he saw that your head was leaning back, he gripped the back of it and forced you to continue looking at him, slowing his movements down, so that he could fuck you in a more calculated, almost passionate way. “Hey, look at me. I want you to cum again, okay? And, this time, you’re not going to look away.”

Instead of resisting Wooyoung’s hold on you, you found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your sweat-covered body against his, your lower-halves working in tandem with one another to reach your highs. “As long as you promise to fill me up,” you invited sweetly, your heart pounding inside your rib cage.

“Don’t I always? Now, come here.” Wooyoung gave you another oddly charming smile, one of his hands moving up to your jaw and coaxing it open, so that he could bring you into an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue slipping inside and moving against yours.

“Mmm…!” you reacted, your eyes still open, due to being genuinely surprised that Wooyoung kissed you. You couldn’t even remember the last time he did; it was probably somewhere around your third or fourth breakup.

Wooyoung opened his eyes slightly, studying your wide ones, his tongue lapping lazily at your own, some of his spit already dripping down his chin.

Too caught up in the heat of the moment, your eyelids fluttered shut and your hands instinctively slid up the back of his neck, your fingers slipping into his damp hair. Your heads periodically tilted in opposite directions, so that you could both engage in a sloppy, fervent kiss.

Feeling your pussy tighten significantly around his throbbing length, Wooyoung reluctantly broke the kiss, using his free hand to gather up some of your combined saliva that was dripping in abundance from your mouths and rubbing it all over your lips, then pushing his fingers onto your tongue, groaning when your mouth closed around them. “Fuuuuck, look at you…You don’t act like this for anyone else, do you? It’s all for me, isn't it, baby?” he asked, burning the image of your fucked-out expression into his memory.

“Mm-hmm…”

“Thought so.” Wooyoung grabbed your chin with his glistening fingers and mumbled, “I can feel how tight your cunt is around me, so go ahead and cum. Come on, make a mess on my dick, baby.”

You kept your glossy eyes locked on his, almost screaming when your warm wetness squirted forcefully out of you and all over his cock for the third time.

“Gooood girl…Now, let me fill you up, baby. Just how you like…” Wooyoung groaned deeply, his hands returning to your hips and cementing you in place, as his seed spilled deep inside your spasming cunt, a string of obscenities falling from his lips.

“Oh my god…” You dug your nails into Wooyoung’s skin, your thighs shaking uncontrollably, almost unable to handle how good it felt to be filled up to the brim with your ex’s load.

Once Wooyoung could breathe properly, he struggled to find the right words, not able to explain how he felt. “Oh, god…that was…”

As your body relaxed completely against Wooyoung’s, you kept your arms wrapped around him, suddenly not wanting to let go, but not really thinking about it, since your brain was still buzzing from the overload of endorphins. “I know…I know what you mean…” you replied cryptically, nuzzling his neck a bit.

Wooyoung didn’t say anything else for a while, simply running his hand up and down your lower back, his fingers ghosting along the indent of your spine. He closed his eyes, feeling his head almost spin, due to the influx of conflicting ideas that had infiltrated his mind.

You were in a similar place, the truth of reality hitting you like a ton of bricks, forcing you to pull yourself away from him, wanting to get away from the distressing headspace you were falling into as soon as humanly possible.

When Wooyoung felt your warmth leave him, as you got up from the couch, he reached out and grabbed your wrist, holding it rather tight. “Don’t go. Just stay here with me tonight,” he announced, not even thinking before he said it.

Suddenly made uncomfortable by the way he was squeezing your wrist, you forcefully yanked your arm away from him. Wincing, you rubbed your sensitive skin, making up a viable excuse, “No, I need to get home. I have work tomorrow. Why are you being like this?”

Wooyoung tsked and sat up, quickly snaking his arms around you and bringing your body against his, so that you were awkwardly pinned to both him and the lower half of the couch. He rested the side of his head on your upper abdomen for a moment, then pulled away to look up at your shocked face, giving you a straight answer, “Cuz I want you to stay. I don’t give a fuck if you have work. You’re going to stay put.”

You wriggled around in his grasp, shaking your head and complaining, “Oh my god, you’re being so fucking weird. Just get off of me!” When he didn’t let go of you, you pushed on his face, causing him to grunt, but still hold on, eventually letting go when you shoved his shoulders instead.

The force of your push caused him to slam into the back cushion and slump down against it, prompting him to just stay there instead of getting up. He remained silent, giving you an expression that you couldn’t read.

“Jesus,” you remarked, hastily picking up your discarded clothes from the ground, while trying to disregard the unresolved feelings that had been eating away at you since you had stepped into his apartment. “You better not do that again, or else I’m not coming around anymore.” You glanced up from the floor to give him a dirty look, wanting him to know that you were being completely serious.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his damp brown hair, actively ignoring the sharp twinge of pain inside his chest. “Whatever. You know you can’t live without this dick.” He snapped his fingers at you when you wouldn’t give him the response that he wanted, desperately trying to get your attention when you started to put your clothes on, ignoring him. “Hello? Are you fucking deaf?”

You remained tight-lipped, zipping up your skirt and adjusting it, eventually letting out a small sigh. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if you had it in you to continue this relationship with Wooyoung. At first, it was a good way for you to release all the negative emotions you had usually shoved deep down and locked away, but now…now it was just leaving an incredibly bitter taste in your mouth.

Wooyoung grimaced, clearing his throat and asking in an irritable tone, “Why are you just staring at me like that? You know it’s the truth. You can’t live without me, y/n. If you could, you would’ve blocked me after the first time we broke up.”

Ignoring his words, you walked over to the door and grabbed your bag, letting it dangle near the ground, instead of putting it on your shoulder, your distant gaze lowering until your vision grew blurry from the threat of incoming tears. “You know…now that I think about it, we should really stop doing this, Woo. It’s not good for us.”

He suddenly jolted up, his fingers gripping at the edge of the cushion below him, unable to hide the panic forming on his face. “Wh-what are you talking about? Jeez, I…I must’ve fucked you so hard, your brain stopped functioning,” he responded, letting out a nervous chuckle.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, appearing like you were in a significant amount of pain. You should’ve done this a long time ago, but there was always a small part of you that wanted to hold on, hoping that somehow all of your problems would magically disappear and you could go back to how everything was before. However, deep down inside, you knew that it was never tangible — even from the start. The two of you were just flawed, broken people who could never seem to build each other up, instead opting to tear down one another again and again. And it had finally gotten to be too exhausting for you.

Wooyoung felt like he was going to start hyperventilating when you looked up at him with a blank face, initially unable to see the tears fall from how fast you were wiping them away. “y/n…?” he called out shakily, dread forming within him, making him feel like he had a ten ton weight sitting inside the pit of his stomach.

With teary eyes and trembling lips, you opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out at first, causing you to clear your dry throat. You closed your fists tightly for a moment, before they slowly relaxed against the sides of your thighs. “Woo…it’s over. I just…can’t do this anymore.”

Before you realized what was happening, Wooyoung was already clinging onto you, tears dripping down his own cheeks and shaky, abrupt breaths being forced out of his throat, showing a side of himself that you had only witnessed once years ago. “D-don’t be fucking stupid!” he choked out, his fingers gripping the back of your sweater so firmly, you thought that he might rip the thin material. “You’re not leaving me!”

Your eyebrows lowered and pulled together, your lips still quivering, as you wondered internally why he had to make this so incredibly hard for you. It was difficult enough already; you didn’t want to let go of him, but you knew you had to for the sake of your sanity, as well as his. “Woo…please…We can’t do this anymore. We’re destroying each other. Can’t you see that...?” you murmured in a fragile voice, making a weak attempt to pull away from him, blinking away a few tears in the process.

Wooyoung shook his head violently, dropping his weight down on you and burying his face into your chest, his fingers clawing into your back desperately, shouting, “I don’t care!” He let out a few small whimpers, wiping his tears away by using the front of your sweater. “I’ll happily drown with you, y/n…” He pulled back slightly and looked up at you with empty eyes, an incredibly pained smile on his flushed face.

“No! That’s exactly what I’m talking about, you idiot! That’s so fucking toxic!” you protested, unable to keep your voice from cracking, while actively doing your best to stand steadily and peel Wooyoung off of you. “Get. Off!” You let out a sudden yell of frustration when you couldn’t get away from him, not knowing what to do at this point. “Please…”

Wooyoung tightened his grip around your body, until you could feel significant pain in your ribs, leaving you almost lightheaded. “No!” he shouted, with every ounce of his being, threatening to damage his vocal cords.

Feeling completely and utterly drained, both mentally and physically, you slowly slumped down onto the carpet, giving up and allowing your bawling ex to curl up around you like a frightened child.

Wooyoung had lost all control of his emotions, too traumatized by the thought of you leaving him to hold back in any sort of capacity. “Fuck…you…You’re staying…right here…!” he gasped out, in between sobs, his voice airy and weak. “You’re never…leaving me!” He lightly hit his closed fist against your back, stopping when he simply wanted to hold onto you again. “Never…ever…!”

You closed your tired eyes, leaning your head into the crook of Wooyoung’s neck and resting it there. “Okay.” Caving in, you gently stroked his hair and placed your other hand on his lower back, giving it light pats.

Wooyoung stiffened up for a second, still gasping for air, unable to quell his crying-induced hiccups. “You…mean…that?”

“Yeah…I mean it.” You relaxed into his body, holding him so close that you could feel his heart pounding against your chest. You nuzzled your cheek into his warm skin, noticing how he would jolt periodically from drawing in quick, fragile breaths. “I’m right here, okay? Now, just breathe…and relax…”

He followed your advice, concentrating on his erratic breathing, until he eventually calmed down, his rapid heart rate slowly returning to a normal one. “y/n…” he mumbled, gingerly moving up near your face and gazing at you for a second, before pressing his cold lips onto yours.

You didn’t resist him, not even noticing when your fingers automatically interlocked with his, until you felt him squeezing your hand. Once you shared a few gentle, heartfelt kisses, you pulled back slightly, looking into his sad blood-shot eyes. “Where do we go from here?” you asked, your voice barely coming out.

Wooyoung leaned his forehead against yours, his hand gripping yours so tightly, he threatened to cut off the circulation. “I…I don’t know, exactly…” he answered truthfully, letting out a pained sigh, his eyes still focused solely on your watery ones. “But I do know that I want you by my side.”

After listening to his words, you leaned back into Wooyoung, the tension in your body subsiding. “Okay…I’ll stay with you, Woo. I won’t leave...until you want me to.”

Letting go of your hand, he opted to wrap himself around you once again, resting the side of his face on your shoulder, his breath hitting your skin. Closing his eyes and feeling some sort of peace, Wooyoung smiled to himself. “Don’t be stupid, y/n. That’s never going to happen.”

➽───────────────❥

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#ateez #ateez smut #wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x y/n #kpop smut

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knifedog-machina · 8 months ago

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Android Abnormalities

Species dysphoria, but the “wrong” way, ft. my borderline personality disorder

J: so you know how my source is technically Detroit: Become Human? you know how we fucking hate that title? you know how we’ve made fun of it multiple times? unfortunately it's a mood! I also hate this!

Hey! This essay is about how incredibly uncomfortable I feel in my own skin around common android tropes, in media and some of its reflections in robotic identities and experiences, featuring reasons for why I'm like this, and a helpful suggestion for what I want readers to do about it at the end of the piece. I really hope this reaches someone who feels the same way so I can point at them like Same Hat!

I first noticed this problem on October 30, 2023, when we stumbled across a fanfic on Archive of Our Own. It was an alternate universe of a TV show we've never seen before, but it was written by an author we liked, and it was an android AU. That's fun! We thought it would just be a quick read, something to idly talk about after lunch.

Well, uh. Nope. I was co-fronting while Max read, and the more we read, the more… weirdly uncomfortable I felt. It wasn't actively distressing, but it made me feel weird, so I stopped reading halfway through to talk about it with some friends.

I'm not gonna link the fic, because Tumblr is weird about links, but for my own future reference, it's “persona ex machina” by BirchBow. It was a really good fic, we thoroughly enjoyed it! I just have - hangups, I guess?

I think I was uncomfortable that, on the surface, it seems… really close to my experiences. Like, the protagonist, Chuck, is an android made to mimic humans, and he’s made to be a combat unit. He’s scared of what might happen to him if he fails to meet expectations. Technicians operate on him, put him back together. He's made by a corrupt corporation for fucked up purposes. He eventually defects from the corrupt corporation, with the help of some really kind people. That’s all really similar to me.

But it's different. Because as much as Chuck was designed to look human, he still had to be taught how to act human, how to feel. The way he emotes is off at first and he has to recalibrate, not look so stiff, learn how to smile and laugh and understand what different emotions mean. He automatically runs through the technical terms for something before working to turn it into common vernacular as it reaches his mouth. And this is a typical android trope, you know? The machine doesn’t intrinsically understand emotions, so humans have to teach them.

I’m… really, really not like that. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t feel too much. Every memory I have, even in blurred out mental snapshots of beta testing, it’s all drowning in emotions that I couldn’t articulate and wasn’t supposed to express. I looked at my siblings, who were so stoic and professional around humans it was like they were different people entirely, and I knew I was supposed to be less emotional. People always just assumed they were better than me, because they were better at code-switching to what was expected of androids, because they could keep their mouths shut on the job.

So I’ve always felt like I was bad at being an android. Androids aren’t supposed to feel emotions, not really, not to the extremes that I do. That’s a predisposition for deviancy. And I was made this way on purpose, I was made to “mimic” deviants to earn their trust, but I wasn't meant to be like that all the time. I tried to repress my emotions, it just never worked.

And I don’t see androids like me, in the media we’ve watched and read and listened to. It’s not really a characterization that lends itself to exploring what it means to be a person, right? Machines are supposed to be logical and unfeeling, to contrast with humanity’s irrationality - they’re supposed to be better than that. And when the machine starts having emotions, it's treated as a flaw, or a breakthrough. Wow, you feel things about the world around you, you’re a person now!

I’ve never been logical in my fucking life. I have a laundry list of reasons for why, but for now, I’ll focus on the BPD. I have borderline personality disorder, because of the way my brain is wired and how that interacted with my traumatic experiences.

One of the symptoms of BPD is emotional dysregulation. I’m not just bad at repressing my emotions, I also experience those emotions as more extreme and overwhelming than a neurotypical person would. I keep finding myself affected by things that the people around me brush off, and I have to remind myself that it doesn’t mean I’m overreacting, it means that I’m literally feeling shittier emotions.

Another symptom of BPD is an unstable sense of identity - and this is really where we’re getting into how these traits and tropes affect me. Because I don’t relate at all to these androids on the screen. They’re as foreign and separate from me as they are to the humans sitting across from them in the shot.

I do relate to the humans. I do relate to seeing an android do something in the name of pure cold logic and going, “Why? What the fuck, why?” I do relate to being told I’m irrational. (The trope that all robots are logical feels like it was designed to make me feel like the most irrational, bitchy, hysterical piece of shit on Earth.)

So, what, does that make me human? If I'm going by the adage that wanting to be something is a sign of being that thing, then… I don’t know, maybe? I want to be human, I so badly want to be human, because here’s the thing, humanity is diverse. Humans are flawed, messy, weird, complicated, and defy categories every fucking day of their lives. Humans can be weird, ridiculous, fucked up people and they’re allowed to be.

And let me bring this back around to alterhumanity. If I say I’m an android, people will make assumptions about what that means about me. People go, “Hey, you're a robot, you must have one of these common robot experiences!” and I just don’t.

Maybe it’s because I’m coming at it from the opposite direction? The machines and robots and androids that I tend to see around, the ones who talk about their identity, they often identify as fully nonhuman. They describe wanting to be metal and chrome, feeling like they run on algorithms, not processing emotions the way most people do. They identify very much with the same tropes that I feel alienated by. This isn’t a bad thing, by any means. It’s just a thing. People resonate with what they see. It just means that I feel like I’m doing bad at being an android again, but in a new, improved way.

Another symptom of BPD is being terrified of real or imagined abandonment, and trying to do anything to avoid it. A constant feeling of social alienation isn’t really that different, to my BPD - it’s just a slow, drawn out version of being left behind. People will still talk to me, they still like me, but they won’t understand me. I’ll still be alone.

In that sense, I feel wrong being an android in the same way I feel wrong about being an aromantic allosexual. I actually like being an android, and I fucking like being bi. I don’t want to stop being who I am. I just hate feeling like I’m the only one who feels this way, like nobody else can relate, like every time I talk about my feelings to people they can only nod in sympathy instead of understanding me.

So! You've reached the end of the essay. You see my problem. What do we do about it?

I’m going to refer to the theme of… every single online alterhuman convention that has existed in the past four years, and that is:

Write about your experiences!

The reason I feel so alone and isolated and alienated from my own identity is because I’m only being regularly exposed to pieces from a very specific perspective of what being an android means! That’s a fucking sampling bias!

I know other weird fucking robots are out there, I know you exist, but I can’t fucking reach out a hand and go, “Hey, you're not alone, I relate to you!” if you don't write it down! I want to talk to you! I want to hear from you!

WEIRD ALTERHUMANS, HEY, I LOVE YOU, GO WRITE THINGS!

#alterhuman #fictionfolk #fictive #robotkin #machinekin #androidkin #nonhuman #species dysphoria #jude talks #personal essay

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pxrplebxtterfly · 1 year ago

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Only Girl For Me (1/?)

18+

Pairings: Nomad Steve Rogers x fem reader

Warnings: SMUT, kissing, making out, nudity, oral sex (m receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, (d)ubcon kinda?, (s)tepcest

Summary: Your step brother Steve comes home while your parents are out of town and notices the book you're reading. He informs you he's done dating around.

Word count: 4.3k

Notes: Hey guys!!! Sorry for my inactiveness over the summer. I've whipped up a little something for you all and I hope you enjoy it! Happy fall!!!

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

It’s a quiet evening in your house. You’re home alone, curled up on the couch with a book. You made a fire earlier and it was still burning bright, illuminating the room along with a dim lamp on the bookcase somewhere behind you. The lighting was cozy and perfect for reading.

Tonight, you picked out a favorite of yours. It’s basically all smut but no one needs to know that except you. It looked like a harmless romance novel when you picked it out at a bookstore. You took it home and began reading. At first, it was nothing special, just the beginning of a story. After the first few chapters, you were shocked to discover that this book contained more than just romance. Needless to say, you’ve read it a few times now.

Things are just getting good, when you hear the front door open.

“Mom?” you call out, “David?”

There is no response; all you hear is heavy, muffled footsteps echoing closer. You turn your head to peek over the couch, wanting to know who it is.

You smile when you see that it’s Steve, walking towards you.

“Hi Steve! Where were you?” you ask, and bring your book to your chest.

He smiles back at you and lets out a deep breath as he makes his way around the couch.

“I was helping Sam install new windows at his house. Trying to get them done before winter. What have you been up to?” he explains while sitting down to the right of you.

“I’ve just been reading. You weren’t here so I had the house to myself, and I figured what better to do than read in front of a fire”

You notice the way Steve has relaxed into the couch. His arm is draped on the back of the couch, fingers close to your left shoulder. His legs spread wide. You think about how inviting the position he’s in is, but internally scold yourself when you remember he’s your step brother.

“That sounds like a nice evening. What are you reading?” Steve asks and reaches across to try and pull the book from your chest.

“Oh, nothing, just some silly romance novel” you laugh nervously and close the book.

“You read this one a lot,” he comments and eyes you like he knows your secret.

That’s because he does. Steve knows all about the things you’ve been reading in that book. One of his ex-girlfriends had the same book that she would constantly gush about.

“Yep, it’s one of my favorites” you nod and blush. “My mom and David went to spend the night in the city so it’s just us” you say trying to change the subject.

“Oh, really?” Steve asks with intrigue, “well in that case I guess I get you all to myself”

He’s looking at you with lust. He’s always been a bit of a flirt and a perv but you didn’t mind that much. You didn’t mind because he was very attractive and you wanted him to like you.

“I guess so,” you whisper and your grip on your book tightens. Your stomach drops in awareness of your current situation. How you aren’t sprinting to your room, putting as much distance between the both of you as you can.

You keep telling yourself in your head to leave. Just get up, tell him you're tired, and go to bed.

Before you’re able to say anything, Steve interrupts you saying, “Anyways, did I tell you that I broke up with Sabrina last week?”

“No, I thought you were still seeing her,” you say, glad he switched up the conversation.

“Yeah, she just wasn’t doing it for me anymore, in fact she never really did,” he says and looks at you to see your response.

“Oh,” you say, curious as to why your step brother said this.

“She’s a great girl, she’s just not for me,” he reassures.

“That’s a shame, I really liked her. On to the next I guess!” you say with a smile and laugh.

Steve dates around a lot. He’s usually only in a relationship for a few months before moving on to the next.

Secretly, he’s trying to distract himself. He’s trying to distract himself from you. He knows it’s wrong to want you as bad as he does; you’re his step sister! But, he just can’t ever get you off his mind.

He knows you’ve caught him staring or flirting with you. He tries to hold himself back, but you exude sexuality even though you’ve only ever had one boyfriend.

There’s just something about you that he can’t shake. He always finds himself coming back to you.

“Actually, I think I’m done with other girls for a while,” he says.

Other? Your brain sparks.

“What do you mean?” you ask, intrigued.

“I mean, the only girl I have room for in my life is you,” he says and you catch each other's eyes.

In this moment of intimacy, you forget that he’s your step brother.

You curse yourself silently, for growing wet, and curse him for being so attractive. Damnit, he is so hot, it’s unfair your mom had married his dad.

No, you tell yourself. No way in hell you would ever let that happen. It just can’t… right? Right.

Steve realizes he’s lost you and reaches for you.

You struggle to listen to yourself when you feel his hand land on your knee. He’s reaching across his body, turning towards you, and looking at you with desire.

“Steve?” You squeak as his big, warm hand rubs back and forth on your leg.

You should jump away and push him when you see out of the corner of your eye, his face coming towards you. He glides his face towards your neck and whispers in a low voice, “You’re the only girl for me,”

All you do is sigh with desperation, because you know what’s about to happen and you know you won’t hate it.

“Steve, what are you doing?” you ask as his hand travels further up your thigh and his nose buries into your neck. His breath on your neck makes you tilt your head giving him more access. Your head is telling you that this is wrong, but the way he’s breathing into your neck and running his hand up your thigh feels so right.

Your skin prickles in anticipation of where his fingers will go.

“I just need you really bad right now baby” he whispers so close to your ear. You swear you can hear a whine behind his words.

His pillowy lips kiss your neck, giving you slow, deep kisses. The way he sucks gently has you feeling lightheaded.

Steve indulges in the way your skin tastes and feels. You’re velvety under his tongue and he sinks into memories that surface as he smells you. He can feel his pants shifting around his hard cock, unable to conceal his excitement.

The soft material of his sweatpants creates minimal friction against the head of his dick, causing him to rut slightly into the fabric, towards your leg. Still kissing your neck, he thinks about what it would feel like to be buried inside you.

His hand squeezes as high on your inner thigh as it can. His fingers then ghost over your pussy. His palm lands on your pelvis and you rock your hips forwards subconsciously. He lowers the tips of his fingers, not creating pressure yet. His fingers slowly start to rub circles around your clit.

The sensation is enough to draw a moany sigh from you. You want more, you crave it. If he could just stop or get this over with, you’d be relieved.

He’s not gonna stop and you know this.

“Step siblings aren’t supposed to touch each other like this”

“C’mon just be a good little sister and let me” he breathes out. He applies more pressure as he circles your clit.

“No Steve, we can’t!” you whine as you feel yourself clench around nothing. You begin to try and get up to escape the sinful actions of your step brother. You barely gain momentum to stand when you are pulled back down to the couch. Your book slips out of your grasp and lands on the floor.

He grabs you from behind, wrapping his arm around your waist with his hand still on your pussy. His hand presses into your stomach, holding you down.

“Don’t do that sweetheart, just stay so I can play with you” he huffs into your neck.

“But it’s wrong” you whimper as he kisses your jaw. His tongue trailing your jaw line.

You can hear him panting hard as he kisses your cheek. He’s worked up and hungry for you, pinning you to the couch. His fingers press into the flesh on your tummy, and it hurts everytime you squirm.

Steve can’t help himself, when you’re sitting here in your slutty little pajamas, basically offering yourself to him. Especially when you’re openly reading such filth, it’s like you have a sign above you, pointing, saying, “whore”. He knows you can’t resist him as much as you try. At the end of the day, your cunt is greedy and desperate to be fucked just like everyone else.

“Just let your big brother take care of you baby, you know I can make you feel good. Maybe we can recreate one of those chapters in that book of yours, huh?” he says as he sticks his thick fingers in the waistband of your shorts and underwear.

You're shocked that he knows what you’re reading, and thoroughly embarrassed by it, but you’re distracted when you feel air rush onto you. He lifts the fabric from your skin and pulls it halfway down your legs.

Exposed now, your senses heighten, waiting for him to touch you.

Then he does. His fingers dive carefully into your entrance and play with the slick you’ve secreted. Running his fingers up and down over your hole, collecting your arousal. He circles your entrance but then moves his fingers up and down your whole pussy. His fingers start from the bottom of your hole and move to the top of your clit. He repeats this motion a couple of times, just teasing you, lathering you up in your own mess.

You moan as he teases you, not sticking his fingers in you or directly stimulating your clit. “Please” you sigh.

“Please what? I want you to use your words,” he asks, still breathing into and kissing your neck. He slows his fingers at your beg.

“Please, do whatever you want to me,” you say, giving in, “but please, just, don’t stop!”

“Fuck, you don’t know how bad I’ve wanted to hear you say that” he mumbles into your neck as his fingers plunge into you.

He knew you would fold. Your libido is just as feverish as his, and he can tell (contrary to your belief).

Steve is well aware of the collection of smutty books, you keep lined up on your bookshelf. He thinks they look like awards for “biggest slutty virgin” . He knows your thoughts are not as pure as one might think.

You moan as his fingers fill you. They press against every puffy wall inside you, the pressure making you squirm.

Your toes curl and you gasp as his fingers start to rake along that sweet spot. He uses the pads of his fingers to massage your inner wall, coaxing you to mumble curses.

“Do you like that?” he asks against your ear.

You don’t manage to say anything, you just tangle your hands into his hair and pull his face towards yours.

Your tongue is immediately wrestling with his and he tastes faintly of mint. His tongue presses against yours, your kisses sloppy, unable to find a rhythm. His fingers continue to flutter inside you, reaching so far deep that you begin to whine.

Steve is obsessive over you and completely turned on by the noises you’re making. “Your baby pussy just needed big brother’s fingers, huh?”

“Yes, yes, yes” you pant into him.

Your eyes are scrunched close and watering from the stimulation of that belly churning spot. In fact, you can’t tell whether your stomach keeps tightening or dropping.

The pleasure he’s giving you is so overwhelming and encompassing, you wrap your arms around his head and cradle it closer so you're mashing mouths.

He kisses you perfectly, somehow knowing exactly what you like and the way you like it done. Meanwhile, you’re hardly able to kiss him back, the stimulation crushing every nerve.

You moan into his mouth, realizing his fingers have already brought you to your climax. Everything disappears and you burst into a million sparks, burning through the air, searing every particle around you. You continue to burn into the couch as he continues to pump his fingers into you.

As he fucks you through your orgasm, you begin to melt. You feel like lava, every part of you flowing from your core, leaving all things underneath you charred.

Coming down from your high, the room starts to form again in your vision. Steve’s presence fades in and you feel his fingers have slowed down and are just barely moving in you. His lips have left yours and he’s looking at you, watching you come back to earth.

“You okay baby?” he asks softly, carefully pulling his fingers out of you.

You nod and smile coyly. You feel a little stunned by the intense orgasm you just experienced and need a moment to catch your breath.

“You did so good, baby but I’m not done with you yet. Help me take my pants off” Steve says.

You immediately tune back into your situation hearing what he’s just ordered you to do. You hesitate, still knowing that what you’re doing is wrong. Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear him say, “now.”

He’s looking, waiting anxiously for you to touch him. Precum has seeped through his sweatpants, where the tip of his cock is.

You don’t want to find out what would happen if you don’t obey him so you slowly reach out to his hips. You gently hook your fingers around the waistband of his sweats and tug. He lifts to help you slide them off.

His cock springs free and you pause, unsure where to go from here. You’ve had sex before, you just didn’t know what exactly Steve had in mind.

You look up at him nervously, not moving.

“You’re not afraid of your big brother’s cock, are ya?” he teases you.

With hesitation you shake your head and stutter, “No, I’m not”

“That’s what I thought,” he soothes, and brushes your hair out of your face, “Now be a good girl and put your mouth on it, you know what to do”

His eyes enchant you and you’ve stopped worrying about how wrong what he’s doing to you is. You decide to get comfy and lay on your stomach.

Once you do this, he wraps your hair into his fist so it’s out of your face. Steve wants to watch you suck him off. He wants to see your pretty eyes look up at him while his cock is in your mouth.

You grab the base of his dick and plant a kiss on the head. His precum is warm against your lips and you stick your tongue out to lick it off.

Slowly, you take him into your mouth and begin to lather his dick in your spit. You start to bob your head, and suck gently.

The tip hits the back of your throat and you hum as you pull him back out, enjoying the feeling of him filling your mouth. You keep at this moderate pace for a few minutes, getting used to him. You pop him out of your mouth to take a breather and look up at him.

He moans quietly as you lick the head of his dick, just teasing him.

A second later, you’re gagging on his cock as he pushes your head down on him. You squeeze his thighs in protest but you secretly enjoy that he’s taking control.

You hear him huffing as he fucks up into your throat, his hair tickling your nose.

“You like the way your big brother’s cock tastes? Huh?” he taunts, ramming his hips into your face.

You’re unable to say anything but Steve doesn’t care. He knows you do.

He pulls you by the back of your hair off his dick and you pant, mouth open and drooling as he decides it’s time to change it up.

You can’t think straight, trying to catch your breath and not slobber everywhere. Suddenly, Steve is standing up and switches to the other side of the couch you were sitting on.

You watch his riveting, huge, muscles move him across the floor. Everything about him is just so strong. He comes up behind you, beside the couch. He grins at you wildly as you smother a, “what are you doing?” smile between your fingers.

He pushes one of his knees in between your knees, spreading your legs for him. His hand strokes his dick as he eyes your pussy and ass.

He bends forwards and takes your ass into his hands, squeezing and playing. His grip on you sends waves of warmth through you. He uses his thumbs to lift up your ass and folds, exposing your pussy.

“Fuck” he breathes out, running his thumb over your pink, aching hole. He barely grazes you before his finger is covered in your arousal. You love his upfront admiration and visible desire.

Steve moves his hands to your hips and tugs you up and backwards. You land face down, but on your knees, butt in the air. Your ass is now exactly where he wants it.

“You want your step brother to fuck you?” he asks as he prods your hole with the head of his thick cock.

“Yes please, step brother” you beg, looking back at him.

“Yeah? Wearing slutty clothes all the time to try and get me to look at you, well now you’ve got my attention”

You need to feel him inside of you. You need him to turn your brain to mush. You need him to fill your throbbing void full of his cock and cum.

He dives in, seething immediately, unprepared for you to feel this good. He knew you were going to be warm and wet, but he could never have imagined that you would make him so close to cumming from a single stroke.

He huffs out, pushing past the feeling that wants to come over him. He pulls out and pushes back in. He begins to fuck you.

There’s not an inch of space where you can’t feel him and you love it. You’re paralyzed by the sheer force and quantity of friction being created between the two of you. You feel like he’s fucking you raw, like his dick is hollowing you out.

All you can do is moan and try to keep from crying. With the speed and strength he’s going, tears begin to flow from your eyes anyways.

Steve watches your face as it is squished down into the couch cushions. He can see your skin glisten with tears from the intensity of his fucking. He loves it.

He loves it so much that he bends forwards to bury himself deeper into you. His thrusts become short and shallow, picking up his speed.

Closer to you now and through ragged breaths, he coos, “Such a good little sister, taking what her step brother gives to her”

You moan at his words and feel your head being lifted off the couch. His fist is in your hair, pulling you up, against him.

Your back arches as you collide with him, one of his hands is immediately around the base of your throat. Not constricting your breathing, just holding you closer to him.

His right hand snakes around your hips, down your pelvis and finds your clit. He begins to rub at it, simultaneously fucking you with everything he’s got.

He’s grunting into your ear and you think you heard him say, “Fuck baby, you like that? Huh? Huh? You like your big brother deep inside of you like this?”

You’re almost completely fucked numb. Your brain and body are so cockdrunk you can hardly see or speak.

You try your best to muster up something other than curses and whine, “Yes, yes, I love it”

“Of course you do baby” he taunts.

You feel yourself reaching the edge of a second orgasm, feeling your stomach tighten.

“Steve, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” you tell him, wanting him to keep the pace and position.

His fingers on your clit, vibrating against it with the perfect pressure. His cock is burying into you and his rugged breathing and grunts on your neck culminate to send you into a spiraling orgasm.

“Cum for me, cum all over your big brother’s cock” he says, fucking you through it.

You release around him, letting all your inhibitions go too. You let him continue doing exactly what he’s doing because his sheer talent for making you come is mindblowing.

Your orgasm courses through you and when it’s over, you realize you’re completely slumped back against his burly chest. His dick is still inside you but he’s stilled, and you begin to regain consciousness of your surroundings. You hear his shaky breaths and seething moans. You feel him tremble against you and hold you tighter to him than ever before.

Your brain begins to connect the pieces slower than you would have liked.

Steve slowly lets go of you and you eventually fall forward, and feel him pull out of you.

He curses when he’s no longer inside your warm walls.

You feel something hot begin to seep out of you. You wonder if it’s you, him, or the both of your combined mess.

“Steve, did you?” you ask, nervous and out of breath.

He hesitates and you lift yourself up. You turn around on your knees and face him. His body expands and retracts with his deep breaths. He’s tall above you, and you have to tilt your head up to see his face.

Shame splashes his cheeks.“I’ll run to the store and grab you a Plan B, I’m sorry, I just couldn’t stop myself” he says and pets the side of your head and leans down to kiss your forehead. His beard scratches lightly as he kisses you and you reach your arms up around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

As long as he’s buying you a contraceptive, it truly isn’t that big of a deal.

“We can wait till morning” you whisper into his neck and he pauses.

Steve sits down on the couch, your arms still around him, and pulls you into his lap. His big arms wrapped around your waist. He’s grateful for your sympathy and affection.

“I’m sorry, I��ve wanted you for so long now, I just couldn’t stop myself. I don’t think you realize how sexy you are,” he explains, as you nuzzle into his collarbone.

You giggle at him and kiss his cheek. The feeling of both messes dripping out of you and onto him turns you on a little. You hum as you settle into his body. He puts his hands under your t-shirt, and rubs your lower back.

His skin on your skin stirs something in your heart. The comfort of his heat and body makes you pepper kisses on his shoulder. You show him how much you appreciate him and the attention he gives you.

“If you stay like this long enough, I might have to fuck you again,” he growls low, into your ear.

His filthy thought sends a jolt of adrenaline through you, and you grind into his lap, showing your enthusiasm.

“Don’t tease me,” he says and grits his teeth together when he feels his cock twitch.

You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eye. Your hands now resting on his neck, you say, “And if I do?”

He narrows his eyes, and flexes his jaw. His eyes are probing yours, trying to find out what your intentions are.

You bite your lip and smile, unable to contain your giddiness.

“Well, we’d have to do something about that, now wouldn’t we?” he smirks.

You realize, for the first time, that you haven’t really kissed. His lips have been on yours but you were unable to kiss him the way you wanted to.

You immediately lean forwards and press your lips to his.

Steve’s a little flabbergasted but happily indulges in the way you taste. He smiles against your lips, glad you are so eager for him.

You kiss him deeper, tenderly poking your tongue out and swiping it across his mouth. He feels you do this and welcomes you in. He moves one hand out from beneath your t-shirt and brings it up to cradle your head.

His tongue swirls against yours making you moan into his mouth. Your heated kissing slowly makes you begin to grind against his lap once more.

You can feel him shift up into your hips, creating more pressure between the two of you.

He sucks and nibbles at your lips and you can’t help but squeak out moans. The sense of comfort and joy is overwhelming and the both of you begin to slow your kisses.

Eventually, you come to a stop and you’re now gazing into his sparkling, blue eyes. The both of you pant and stare at each other with desire. The passion leisurely flowing out of you both and molding together in the atmosphere. An aura almost appears with the foggy, hot-headed, vision you now have.

Once more, you rest your head on his collarbone and squeeze him tight, sending the message of comfort to him.

#smut #captian america #steve rogers #nomad steve rogers #captain america smut #steve rogers smut #nomad steve rogers smut #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans fic

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banned-for-horny · 9 months ago

Text

Final Treat

Kylar has one final treat to give Whitney as a reward for his training.

cw: petplay, mindbreak (i guess? or stockholmey?), kylar x whitney, and kylar being a creep like always.

a/n: um. yeah. I don't have an explanation for this one either. there is one very specific doujin artist in my head that haunted me while writing this. not gonna say it, but it definitely did stuff to my brain. fuckbuddies to lovers but also you were blackmailed into this. idk. my hormones are going wild.

Today is a big day, and there is a slight chance that Kylar's going to get murdered in a few minutes.

He flicks the switch, flooding the basement with harsh light. Tucked in one corner is the extra large dog crate he'd bought some time ago, covered with a soft blanket from his own room.

"I'm back," he calls out of habit, heart fluttering when he hears the rattle of something dragging against the cage. He doesn't hesitate to reach for the blanket, ripping it aside as he says, "D-Did you miss me?"

Probably not, but Whitney's cock is drooling within its chastity cage and that's all that matters. He squirms and shifts on his knees, causing the faux pink tail to swish behind him. It's a perfect match to the paws and ears strapped to his body, not to mention the bedazzled collar dangling from his throat.

Kylar almost squirms with him, but he swallows that down and knees, unlocking the cage with trembling fingers. With a gentle tug on the lead, Whitney comes shuffling out of the cage. He does not growl. He does not snap. He does pause for a few seconds to whine when his knee touches the cold basement floor, and Kylar gasps before grabbing the blanket.

"Sorry, sorry." He lets Whitney crawl onto the sheet, then gently pats between his fake ears. "Better?"

Whitney stills, which is a much better improvement than pulling away. He keeps his eyes down, too. Very big improvement.

"Good boy," Kylar says. "Y-You did really good this week! You didn't even tear up the bed inside the cage." Granted, the last time Whitney tore the bed up, he'd hit him so hard he started to bleed, but that's besides the point. He's all healed up and acting like a good boy. In fact..."You've been such a good boy that, um, I planned a big reward for you. A-Are you ready?"

Whitney's dull eyes dart up, just a flicker of light behind his stare that makes Kylar smile. He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a small key. "I'm letting you go!"

Whitney tenses, eyes zeroing in on the key. He starts to shift and squirm again, tail wagging, only to freeze when Kylar returns it to his pocket.

"B-But first," he says and stands up. "You, uh, you have to show me your t-tricks, okay? Then we can start." With a proud nod, Kylar steps off the blanket and puts on his best stern face. "Now, sit."

Whitney blinks. For a brief second, Kylar worries he's trying too soon, that he might have to punish the ex-delinquent again. Then Whitney begins to shift, sinking back on his haunches. The position forces his knees apart for balance, but he plants his paws between his thighs for support.

"Ah, ah," Kylar scolds quickly. "Sit up."

A flicker of definace sparks in Whitney's eye, but Kylar only holds up the lead for him to comply. Carefully, the ex-delinquent shifts his weight, wobbling on his feet as he lifts his paws to his chest. A dribble of precome escapes the slit of his chastity cage.

"G-Good boy!" Kylar praises. He does not miss the way the cock twitches from the inside the cage. "N-Now, belly up?"

Whitney keeps his paws tucked to his chest when he rolls over. Kylar can't resist running his hand across the flat of his stomach at the sight, inching closer and closer to his hips and drooling cock before pulling away.

"Present."

Slowly, on hands and knees, Whitney lifts his hips, sticking his ass and tail into the air. This time, Kylar sinks his fingers into the meat of his left cheek, more to try and control his own breathing than anything. He'd had to force Whitney into this position last time for the butt plug, threatening to bring back the pump and leave him with it on max for two weeks. Now, his back arches so beautifully, tail soft and pink against his skin. He lets out a weak little whimper and leans into Kylar's palm, then again when he lets go.

"Very good..." Kylar whispers this time. "S-Such a good boy..." He kneads the little crescents he'd left behind in Whitney's skin before floating his fingers up the ridge of his spine. When he shuffles around to the delinquent's head, he tilts him up by the muzzle and can't help the smile on his face. "Perfect..."

He's ready. He orders Whitney back on his back, then to lay his legs out before grabbing the key. He's quick at removing the chastity cage (thanks, Sydney). A single squeeze of Whitney's shaft draws a low, almost strangled groan from his throat.

"Y-You did so well," Kylar says, praise spilling from his lips as he jerks the cock to attention. "You-I'm so proud of you, you're-you're incredible, such a good boy." Whitney's hips jerk and buck under the attention, outright thrusting up when his hand pulls away. "J-Just one more trick, o-okay? Sit."

Kylar scoots back, cock bobbing free as he manages to push down his shorts without standing up. He doesn't bother pulling it all the way off, the rush of power and humiliation from being fully clothed and yet excitedly showing off for a mutt burning in his veins. This is just a final test, he tells himself. Just one more trick to see if his training really stuck.

He doesn't think much of it and rolls on his knees, wiggling his already-slicked hole at Whitney. "M-Mount."

He only catches a glimpse of his ex-bully's eyes stretching wide before paws clamp on his waist. Without his hands to actually guide him, he has to rut and thrust desperately, and Kylar almost breaks and reaches back to guide him in when the cockhead finally catches on his rim.

"A-AH!" Kylar cries out as Whitney slams all the way in with a single thrust, body spasming with pain from the stretch. He fists the blanket, tears blurring his vision. Behind him, he hears the strangled panting puff from the leather muzzle, hips grinding against ass. Like the good boy he is, Whitney does not start thrusting. Not until Kylar looks behind him and clenches around the burning cock stuffed inside of him. "G-Go ahead, Whit-"

He doesn't get to say more. Whitney starts hammering into him, face screwed tight as weeks of frustration melts out of him in a loud, choppy groan. All Kylar can do is hold on for dear life, throwing his hips back to meet each thrust with a clap of skin. If Whitney starts to slow, Kylar forces himself deeper and tries to milk the cum right out of him. If Kylar stills with pain, Whitney pauses just long enough to drag his hips back and pounds away.

A particularly hard thrust knocks Kylar's elbows out. He lands on his shoulders hard, mouth drooling when the new angle drives the thick cock into his prostate. He swears his vision starts to spot, brain melting as his stomach clenches. Maybe, he thinks, he should try to regain some control, but his dick is already dripping. Cum splatters against the blanket and his shirt, droplets flying everywhere with Whitney's desperate thrusts.

Then the mutt keeps going.

"W-W-W-Wait," Kylar gurgles out. He manages to flail one hand around, seizing Whitney's lead and yanking it forward. The force chokes out the poor ex-delinquent, and Kylar uses the temporary stun to push himself away. The cock pulls out of him with a disgustingly wet squelch, loud enough to make his own twitch despite the orgasm.

Whitney's eyes burn, a storm of lust and rage that reminds Kylar so much of his days being sent into the lockers at school. He starts to let out a growl, but Kylar is quick to roll onto his back, pulling his legs to his chest.

He doesn't have to give a command this time, just reaches for Whitney's cock to realign it with his hole before moaning. Paws cage him in as Whitney towers over him, unkempt hair spilling over his face, ears and muzzle casting a silhouette against the weak basement light. Beautiful, his mind thinks. Feral, wild, trained.

"A-Aha," Kylar gasps as Whitney grinds into him, pleasure and pain and pride boiling together until a laugh spills from his lips. He clings to Whitney's forearms and throws his legs around bony hips, cock already back to full hardness. "F-Fuck, yes, p-please, please-"

Whitney's forearms shove at his head. He manages to force his paws under Kylar's head and curls around him tight, like he's clinging to a teddy bear. The only thing really getting in the way is his muzzle, but that doesn't stop the whines and whimpers from singing in Kylar's ears as his thrusting falters. Warmth floods his insides, a weeks-long deluge that makes him clench just to make sure he gets every last drop.

Somehow, after weeks of a restricted diet, Whitney still feels impossibly heavy when he collapses on Kylar. His own cock is still hard, but he can't muster up his normal mask to scold the puppy for not finishing him off again. Being squished under his naked body with his cock still inside...it makes Kylar's stomach flood with warmth. No, not warmth. Just satisfaction.

"Mrphf mhrpin hrmp."

Kylar blinks at the noise, cheek pressing into Whitney's muzzle. "H-Huh?"

"Mrphf mhrpin hrmp," Whitney muffles out and grinds his hip into Kylar's, forcing out a sharp hiss. With each slow gyration, his softened cock begins to thicken.

"Whitney?" Kylar gasps when the ex-bully starts to sit up. He can see his own fucked-out expression in Whitney's eyes. "W-Wha-AH!"

Whitney rips his arms out from under Kylar's head, frantically pawing at his muzzle. The buckles are fastened behind his head, but that doesn't seem to deter him.

"Whitney, w-wait!" Kylar sits up after him, forcing his paws away. Brain still fuzzy with afterglow, he unbuckles the muzzle from around Whitney's head. Before he can speak, he's slammed back down, head throbbing from the blow.

Then his throat is attacked with frantic, sloppy kisses as the dick in his ass returns to weak, desperate thrusts. "'m not leaving," Whitney hisses between each kiss. "You're not-fuck-" He moves up to Kylar's chin, then cheek, then only lasts on his lips for a second before jerking back with a snarl. "You-You turned me into this. You bastard, you little fuck, fuck-"

His gloved hands desperately yank Kylar closer, folding into him in the deepest mating press his body will allow. This close, all Kylar can focus on is the warmth radiating off Whitney's skin, buried deep inside of him and burning the rest of the world away. He lets out a weak moan as his fingers claw through Whitney's natural roots, knees hugging his waist.

"G-Good boy," he pants, clinging to Whitney with all his strength. "Good boy-my good boy...stay..."

Whitney's lips part, eyes darting all over before he closes the distance. He laps at Kylar's mouth, tongues twisting as he grinds deeper and deeper. Over the searing heat and burning pleasure, a twisted knot begins to tangle in the kidnapper's mind. It draws the corner of his lips into a pleased little smile, disturbed only by his captive's desperate kiss. When he feels that familiar pressure building in his stomach, he forces himself to pull away, just to watch Whitney's face as the final spark of rage in him breaks.

"Fuck, please," Whitney begs as his thrusts turn choppy. He reaches down, like he wants to outright jerk Kylar off to orgasm, but Kylar grips either wrist to lock them in place. "Please, please, please-"

And Kylar can only smile and clench tighter around his cock. "Please," he echoes with delight. "G-Good ah, AH!"

This time, he gets the chance to savor his orgasm, moaning out as his back arches. Whitney hides his face in the crook of his shoulder, but his hips still jerk and twitch, his own pained moans echoing in Kylar's ears. For a few minutes, there is nothing but their moans and gasps filling the basement. By the time Kylar manages to find some strength, he just gives the lead hooked to Whitney's collar a tug.

Obediently, Whitney slips both off and out of him, leaving Kylar to squirm at the sudden emptiness. He can already feel the sweat gluing his shirt to his back. "I-I should...change," he murmurs to himself. The second he tries to sit up, his entire torso aches with protest, and he flops back down with a groan. "Ow..."

To his surprise, Whitney snorts and rolls over, pinning Kylar down with one arm. His nose brushes against the kidnapper's hair, strangely soft and gentle as he huffs, "Don't."

Kylar doesn't have the energy left in him to speak. He just tightens his grip on the lead and nods, body tingling with satisfaction. Something tells him Whitney won't go crawling back to you any time soon. Just one less rival in his way.

#degrees of lewdity #banned writing #how much do you wanna bet my monthly will strke in two weeks #idk how to explain this dynamic #guy falls for his own victim #victim gets mindbroken in return #neither of them are okay

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sohmiya · 1 year ago

Text

Maxine Taylor @.maxtaylor · 3s

tits- i mean “HITS that keep my label in the business” EP is OUT NOW!!!!! lmk what song ur claiming 👀

enjoy the show 🅴

succubus

TMZ 🅴

poster rockstar 🅴

poster rockstar (clean ver.)

enjoy the show

baby, i’m a goddamn phenomenon i’m the sweetest fucking dream nobody’s sleeping on it’s a full house here, they enjoy the show if you’re new to this then now you know people gather here like it’s a ritual but it’s no cult, i’m just heaven-sent if you don’t know who’s the baddest bitch of all don’t need the internet ‘cause here i am if you hate that i’m a paradigm just set up your confessional and have a cry lights, camera, action baby, i’m a goddamn phenomenon i’m the sweetest fucking dream nobody’s sleeping on it’s a full house here, they enjoy the show if you’re new to this then now you know i’m a vip (so marvelous) wanna get rid of me? (that’s blasphemous) you know they prayed for me i’m a prophecy i’ll bring you to your knees you’ll beg for me bow and put your hands together in the name of the mother and the daughter you won’t mistake me for another you’ll never lose me in translation every language knows my name and they say that i’m the greatest baby, i’m a goddamn phenomenon i’m the sweetest fucking dream nobody’s sleeping on it’s a full house here, they enjoy the show if you’re new to this then now you know i’m a vip (so marvelous) wanna get rid of me? (that’s blasphemous) you know they prayed for me i’m a prophecy i’ll bring you to your knees you’ll beg for me you’ll go insane trying to convince yourself i’m playing with your mind you’re not hallucinating look more closely, i’m the sign an intervention so divine baby, i’m a goddamn phenomenon i’m the sweetest fucking dream nobody’s sleeping on it’s a full house here, they enjoy the show if you’re new to this then now you know i’m a vip (so marvelous) wanna get rid of me? (that’s blasphemous) you know they prayed for me i’m a prophecy i’ll bring you to your knees you’ll beg for me

succubus

this party sucks no, i got nothing nice to say so i just keep my mouth shut anyway, thanks for the invite i hate it here someone do something make it interesting before i throw a fit i’m so bored out of my mind but i see somebody walking my way i got tricks that can make people scream my name and not just on stage you say you’d rather i demonstrate so you take me somewhere private bet you think i’m the prey you flip the switch but i turn the tables you got me acting so scandalous but don’t need a tape to go viral each round i can turn up the Scoville, hot as hell and i’m the succubus slithering into your temporal well, this was nice but i don’t run it back i keep it moving, onto the next our first is your last time but night and day you say you dream of me and i’m not heartless i can pretend to be in love one more night new party, same guy walking my way you know my tricks that can make people scream my name and not just on stage you’re addicted and your pupils dilated though you try to get me out your head you can’t stay away you flip the switch but i turn the tables you got me acting so scandalous but don’t need a tape to go viral each round i can turn up the Scoville, hot as hell and i’m the succubus slithering into your temporal i’m sending chills down your spine like emails finding the receptors deep in your mind so well they got you all alone reaching between your thighs got you wishing that you had me on your speed dial i one-up ‘em every time

TMZ

oh, here we go again been here, done this god, i’m so over it but i’m still in demand Cirque-Du-Soleil level kind of shit do i keep you entertained? this is not why i’m getting paid is this a charity case? i’m so tired of TMZ always milking my history but i’m feeling so generous go bring up my exes want gossip? i’ll give you a page now all eyes on me i’m so fucking greedy guess you think that you won go ahead, have your fun can’t let this attention go to waste paparazzi in my face want picture perfect? i’m the gallery everybody wants a taste call Michelin give me a star or three do i keep you entertained? this is not why i’m getting paid is this a charity case? i’m so tired of TMZ always milking my history but i’m feeling so generous go bring up my exes want gossip? i’ll give you a page now all eyes on me i’m so fucking greedy guess you think that you won go ahead, have your fun can’t let this attention go to waste i’m smart about my image ‘cause i was trained by the best yeah, i should thank my manager ‘cause you walked right into my hands you think i’m your freak you’re just my puppet but i’m no creature of habit ugh, this is looking like a rerun i’m so tired of TMZ always milking my history but i’m feeling so generous go bring up my exes want gossip? i’ll give you a page now all eyes on me i’m so fucking greedy while you’re stirring the pot on my rumored new flame me and besties blow up the stage by the time you shut down you’re done running your mouth but they’re never forgetting my name

poster rockstar (clean version)

the audio is the original because i second coming wasn’t able to record the clean version

no time for romance let me put you on the wait list i write the hits that keep my label in the business but call the doctor ‘cause i think i got a slipped disc from holding up my bosses like a reimagined greek myth i’m no industry plant not swimming in green but i’m so organic i’m raising the bar sending the big shots into a panic yeah, i’m this generation’s poster rockstar headlining tours and tabloids dominating charts and bad boys i can make your mama cry and break your dad’s heart sometimes, my agent gets a headache but it’s still within his pay grade yeah, he knows he got the perfect poster rockstar i’m so sick but don’t assume that it’s contagious one in a million yeah, they know that i’m the realest i’ll make it just to see my name on someone’s hit list crucified now, worshipped later call me lady Jesus after the supper, they’re gonna love me it’s a conversion whatever i serve, they’re eating it up it’s a communion yeah, i’m this generation’s poster rockstar headlining tours and tabloids dominating charts and bad boys i can make your mama cry and break your dad’s heart sometimes, my agent gets a headache but it’s still within his pay grade yeah, he knows he got the perfect poster rockstar i know one day you’ll be in LA on the walk of fame you’ll see i’ll have my own star

#yes it’s an apple music layout with soundcloud links. i don’t want to hear a word about it ❤️#oc: maxine taylor #infamous if #nikka writes #hshznwegaj im so nervous byeeeee

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kokinu09 · 1 year ago

Text

Fake Love

Inspiration :

For you, I could pretend like I was happy when I was sad

For you, I could pretend like I was strong when I was hurt

I wish love was perfect as love itself

I wish all my weaknesses could be hidden

I grew a flower that can’t be bloomed in a dream that can’t come true

—BTS, Fake Love (English Translation)

💥Trigger Warning : Toxic Exes, breakup over the phone, implied friends to lovers, gay panic moment, MinSung (Minho x Jisung)

Word count : 2,347

AO3

A/N : This was intended to be a short little prompt and it obviously got away from me! 🤗 Originally supposed to be for @rainfallingfromthesky but the MinSung makes me think @keepswingin will be a fan. 😂 Hope you enjoy it!~

~*~

“It’s just not working out,” Jisung tells her gently, phone pressed to his ear, bracing for the inevitable argument.

“Wait, what?! You’re breaking up with me?!” She exclaims through the line.

“Yeah… I’m sorry…” he apologizes as sincerely as he can muster. But he’s not really sorry.

This girl has been doing nothing but ask him for money or to buy her things all week! Most of the time, she doesn’t even respond to his texts! It’s too obvious that she doesn’t and hasn’t even cared about him or his feelings for the past four months. So he’s decided now is as good a time as ever to let her go. Cut his losses and move on.

The laugh he hears in response is sarcastic at best before she switches to an overly sweet coo. “You don’t wanna break up with me! Come on, Ji baby! Why don’t we go out to a nice restaurant and talk about this!”

Usually, he’d feel bad for handling a breakup over the phone instead of in person, but he’s so glad he did in this case. The way his eyes roll to the back of his skull in annoyance at the suggestion would have definitely offended her worse. He’s struggling enough just trying to keep his breathing even and not letting out any noises of frustration. Maybe he should have just texted her at this point.

“No, no. There’s no reason to draw this out,” he says, hearing a ‘but’ as he goes on to keep her from interrupting. “It’s been fun but I don’t think we’re good for each other. It’d just be best for both of us to go our separate ways.” He rushes out and crosses his fingers that she won’t make this harder than it needs to be.

On the other end, he heard her scoff. “Really, wow. I guess the rumors really were true. Do you think you’re better than everyone else, Han Jisung? ‘Cause I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you’re not all that.” She sneers. “It was embarrassing hearing about you from all my friends. Seeing all those videos of you having a panic attack walking through the airport. What kind of Idol gets anxiety from just getting on a plane!” She laughs cruelly.

“Ouch, okay then. I see what this really meant to you,” Jisung snaps back angrily, not that this was any news to him.

He already knew she was only into him for his money but his heart still hurts that he still hasn’t been able to find someone who likes him for him. Whether he had money and fame or not.

“You won’t have to worry about me ‘embarrassing you’ anymore. It’s over.” His tone burns with anger as the words leave his lips. Sharp-edged, firm and indisputable. No room for argument.

“Fine!” She huffs in arrogant annoyance. “You’ll be back.” She adds he can hear the cocky smirk she must be wearing as she says it.

Breathing a laugh, “Doubtful,” he says, ending the call before he can waste another second on their pointless relationship.

Jisung sighs as he drops his phone to the mattress, pressing the heels of his hands against his eye sockets. He’s exhausted. It’s been the same thing over and over again since he’s tried dating.

He hates it. He can’t tell who genuinely cares about him or who’s only out for themselves. It always starts off great and they seem so sweet and affectionate. Then, at some point along the way, it just flips and they’re flirting with the other members or only giving him attention when they want something.

His mind is a mess, thoughts racing in the worst possible directions. From the self-conscious worry of ‘Is it him?’ ‘Is he the reason it never works out?’ To the despair of ‘he’ll be alone forever.’ ‘He’ll never find someone who truly loves him.’

The buzz of his phone beside him pulls his brain out of its spiraling. He glances at the back of it, debating if he dare flip it over and see who was messaging him. It was probably her, continuing the arguments or pleading for another chance.

It’s always the same.

With a resigned huff, he grabs his phone more aggressively than was probably necessary as he flips the screen to see the notification. The tension in his brow immediately eases, sighing out a relieved breath at seeing it in fact wasn’t a text from ‘Little Miss Gold Digger’ but instead was from Minho. A pointless text about his meal, complete with a picture of proof. Too zoomed in to really tell if it looks good or not.

Even still. No matter how mundane the topic is, Jisung finds that he’s never annoyed by his best friend’s messages. He actually looks forward to them. They make him feel normal for once.

He closes his eyes as his head tilts back with a smile spreading across his lips. A feeling of deep gratitude replacing all the negativity that had filled his chest. Thankful that he’s not truly alone. He has Minho and the rest of his members going through it with him. The few people who understand everything he’s going through. Minho, the one who knows him better than anyone else in the world. Who he can turn to with his struggles without worry of judgment.

He’s already pressed the call button before even giving it a second thought. And Minho doesn’t disappoint, answering on the first ring.

“Ah, my dinner looked too delicious for you to resist, huh Jagiya?” He laughs, the infectious sound tugging at the corners of Jisung’s lips.

“Yeah right, I couldn’t even tell what you were having, hyung,” he replies with a chuckle that quickly dies with his sunken mood. “But uh, would it be ok if I come by your dorm tonight?”

There’s a pause from the other end of the line.

“Of course you can,” he says easily before asking, “Is something wrong, Hannie?”

Jisung cringes at the question because he can’t be honest and just say ‘everything is wrong actually.’ Minho would worry about him. And Jisung already felt like too much of a burden by asking to come over.

So he’ll lie to ease it a little bit.

“Everything’s fine, hyung. I just, don’t wanna be alone right now,” but he can’t stop the honesty that slips out. Minho was good for that. No matter how much Jisung wants to hide the truth, it always comes out around him.

“Come over, Hannie. We can talk if you want after we watch a few episodes together,” Minho offers, a gentle undertone to his voice. Understanding and willing to listen. When he’s ready, of course.

~*~

Two episodes quickly snowballs into five as it often did when Minho and Jisung binge-watch a show together. The TV is switched off when Minho finally decides it’s getting a little late.

Jisung uncurls himself from around the dancer with a stretch and yawn. Another habit the two have adopted over the years of watching anime together. Slowly migrating across the couch or mattress until they are huddled up to each other for warm, comfy cuddles.

It’s never been something they’ve thought about much. They enjoyed the skinship and didn’t question it further than that.

“I guess I could go back to the other dorms now,” Jisung sighs, shoving his palms against the cushions to push himself up.

“Hold on, Hannie. We’re not done here yet,” Minho says, grabbing his wrist to yank him back down on the couch. Jisung chuckles but doesn’t put up much of a fight as he relaxes back into his seat.

“What are you talking about, Weirdo? You’re the one who turned the show off!” He retorts playfully. But Minho turns his whole body to face him, giving his undivided attention.

“Don’t you wanna talk about what was bothering you earlier?” He asks, tilting his head as his elbow props it up on the back of the sofa.

Jisung stiffens.

He’d almost forgotten. But everything comes flooding back to the forefront of his mind. The struggle, the longing, the loneliness. He’d almost forgotten of that in the few hours he spent with Minho.

But it will inevitably all come back when he leaves again. Searching for the person who will fill the cracks left in his heart.

How was he even supposed to explain that?

The rapper lets out a heavy sigh, eyes fixed on the way his fingers pick at a frayed string on his jeans. “I broke up with that girl I was seeing. You know, the blonde one?”

Minho hums. “Good, I didn’t like her anyway.”

“Huh?!” Jisung shrieks. “Why didn’t you say anything for the last four months?!” But Minho just shrugs.

“She wasn’t butting into my Hannie time too much.” Then he pauses, dramatically tapping his chin in thought. “To be honest, I kinda forgot she existed half the time.”

That makes Jisung chuckle almost humorlessly. “Yeah me too,” he sighs. “The only reason she liked me was the fame and money. When I told her I was done, she even made fun of me for my anxiety. She didn’t care about me, she never did.” His words quiet and fragile as they left his mouth. The unspoken worry of ‘Will anyone ever love me?’ lingering in the air.

“Well that’s her loss.” Minho says firmly, and Jisung sees the anger burning behind his eyes when he looks back at him. “And if she really can’t understand that your anxiety is not a choice, then she didn’t deserve you in the first place.”

If he thought about it, looking close enough, he could swear he saw smoke coming out of Minho’s nostrils with how angry he seems. It sends a wave of warmth spreading through his chest as a quiet chuckle bubbles out. “Of course you think that, you’re my overprotective best friend!”

Minho stays quiet for a moment, his eyes seeming to search his for something he can’t quite place. But his gut flips with a nervousness he’s not used to with his best friend. Then Minho sighs softly in resignation as he leans back, breaking the tension strung tightly between them.

“No, Hannie, I mean it. You deserve the world from whoever you choose to be with.” He corrects but Jisung furrows his brows as a pout scrunches his face.

“Ok, sure. Whatever you say,” he grumbles. “I haven’t found anyone even remotely close to treating me like that so far.” He lets out his own deep sigh. “I want to find the real thing but it’s so hard. Everyone’s a fan but for all the wrong reasons. I’m so sick of this fake love.”

“Then stop looking out there and look around instead.”

Jisung’s head snaps up to look at the older boy across from him. Minho holds his gaze, intently watching for his reaction. Does he mean what he thinks he means? And why has his stomach erupted into a fit of butterflies?

“Wh-what are you talking about, hyung! Don’t say weird stuff!” Jisung laughs nervously, trying to play it off as if his brain wasn’t suddenly speeding at a million miles an hour. As if his heart wasn’t racing with a mix of panic and giddiness.

Minho’s eyes crinkle in the corners as a smirk forms on his lips. “There’s nothing weird about being honest about how you feel!” He teases lightly, clearly enjoying Jisung’s squirming and flushed cheeks.

The younger makes an embarrassed noise, covering his face with his hands to hide the darkening shade of red. “Ah! You’re just messing with me!”

Warm, gentle fingers wrapping around his wrist to pull his hand away. Jisung’s wide eyes lift to look at him. “I’m not.” He replies with a softened smile, his hand keeping contact with the skin of his wrist.

The look in his eyes made his spine tingle and his heart flutter. It dawns on him that he hopes it’s true. Hopes that Minho feels something stronger than friendship towards him. His stomach does a somersault at the prospect.

When did the feelings for his best friend grow past admiration into this deep fondness? And why has he never noticed it happening?

He isn’t sure how long he sat there trying to wrack his brain for an answer before Minho’s chuckle snaps him out of his own head. “You’re overthinking it, Sungie.”

He wasn’t wrong, but how could he not?! This is his best friend! What if they try to make something work between them and then it ruins what they already have?!

Minho’s grip on his wrist squeezes lightly, pulling him out of his thoughts again. A soft smile is there waiting for him.

“I don’t need you to say anything right now. Just, think about it, ok?” The dancer requests, eyes pleading.

Jisung wants to tell him how he feels. But how can he do that when he hasn’t even sorted through his feelings himself? So he gulps down the lump in his throat and nods, trying to portray his sincerity through their held gaze.

The way Minho’s eyes crinkle happily again makes Jisung relax, his chest filling with warmth. “Good, now come here, Sungie. One more episode won’t hurt, right?” He readjusts with his arms open, welcoming the other boy in for cuddles again.

Jisung laughs under his breath but doesn’t argue, scooting closer and tucking himself against Minho’s side like he always does. Minho’s arm tightens around his shoulders before relaxing, rubbing his back comfortingly.

As the episode starts up, Jisung finds himself letting out a content sigh, snuggling deeper into Minho’s chest. He doesn’t have to overthink this. This is his comfort place. And Minho can read him without him saying a word. Complicated wasn’t a thing between them. They’ll figure out what they want in due time and everything will be fine. He’s sure of it.

And even though he feels like he’s been through hell trying to get here, maybe he’s finally found a safe place to keep his heart.

#stray kids fic #minsung #minho x jisung #lee know x han #lee know #han jisung #skz fic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #kokinu09 writes

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