#but then you almost loose yourself in the way the light bounces off that reflective surface

[dragonling348]

I love opening a blank canvas and starting a conversation.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

The Clandestine Culinarian Pt. 2 | Azriel x Reader

Summary: After you’re introduced to his family and move into the House of Wind, you begin training with Azriel as a way to pass time and cope with your losses, but something unexpected happens, and a seed of jealousy begins blooming in another female’s heart.

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: Mentions of blades, family deaths, itsy bitsy angst, nothing too bad.

A/N: I feel like this isn’t my best work but it pulled me out of writer’s block so whatever, lmk if you want a part three, hope you enjoy it <3

Requests are open!

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When you woke in the morning, Azriel was gone, probably off to his room, or house now that you thought of it.

You weren’t sure why you expected him to still be there, or why a little bit of you felt disappointed that he wasn’t.

Stumbling out of bed, you found some clothes in the closet that looked like they’d been borrowed from you for the time being, a few dresses and some pairs of tunics and pants. You ended up putting on a simple romper that went down just above your kneecap, a light flowery purple. Your niece would’ve liked it, you thought.

Miraculously, there were fresh toiletries and supplies in the bathroom, and so you brushed your teeth so hard your gums bled, and pulled a brush through your unruly hair until it finally settled down a bit.

After what felt like an hour of trying to smooth down the loose ends, you gave an exasperated sigh and moved on to slip some shoes on your feet. When you were finally all dressed and ready, you looked in the bathroom mirror at your reflection.

You looked…fine. Not overly bad, but the lasting effects of your grief were still obvious in the slight redness of your eyes, or the hint of puffiness in your cheeks where tears had rolled down the night before.

“I’m going to be fine.”

You murmured to yourself while staring into the mirror. You were upset and sad and angry, but the world didn’t stop, and neither could you.

“Y’know, usually when I want to feel good about myself I just go flirt with the ladies, but to each their own-“

A low, brusque but amused voice drawled from the doorframe, making you jump and spin to face him, one hand over your now-racing heart.

“Mother above, you scared me!”

You said, sighing and shaking your head before looking up at the stranger.

Not exactly a stranger, you reminded yourself. The General. You could recognize him almost immediately, his large muscular body, the stubble on his face, and his golden hazel eyes, not to mention the dark black hair that was tied back in a man-bun right now.

He only chuckled at your fright, giving you nothing short of an idiotic grin. A hint of sympathy was behind those eyes, you thought.

“So you’re the lady friend Az brought, huh? Welcome to the family, then.”

He said, not elaborating any further as he slung his large arm around your shoulder and began guiding you out of your room, into what seemed like a dining room. A glimmer of something knowing also lurked in his eyes.

The High Lady, Feyre sat down in one of the chairs, Nyx bouncing on her knee and eagerly shoving a piece of bacon down his throat while Rhys watched and snorted in amusement. Another female, Elain, was in the kitchen, cooking up a large breakfast for the entire family and seeming happy while doing it. Nesta seemed to be helping if only to have a taste of the bacon while it was still steaming hot how she liked it.

“Go have a seat, I’ll have our Elain make you a plate.”

He said, releasing you from his grasp if only to push you towards the table. Before you could manage thanks, he’d already strode off into the kitchen, arms wrapped around Nesta’s waist as he pressed little kisses into her neck from behind.

You hesitantly sat down in one of the chairs, feeling a bit out of place in this family’s home. Feyre and Rhys both glanced up at you, sharing a glance between themselves before she gave a polite nod and warm smile, going back to feeding Nyx.

“Ah. I hope you slept well, at least. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”

Rhys said, still glancing over at Nyx and quietly snickering before turning his full attention to you. As you opened your mouth to speak, his expression turned a bit serious, making you pause a moment.

“I hate to tell you like this, but because of the…business, you and your family were running, nothing can be held against Kier or his men. I’m truly sorry I can’t-“

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

You cut him off, feeling bad for it but then going on, watching as his violet eyes almost widened. You knew that nothing could be done from the moment Kier’s men had stormed into the bakery. There was nothing Rhys could’ve done to save them, and nothing you could’ve done either, other than shutting down the business.

“You’re already letting me stay in your home, with your family, and providing for me, so please, don’t apologize for anything.”

You finished. He paused a moment, before giving a slight dip of his head as a nod, that he wouldn’t do it again despite what he might believe.

Elain and Nesta came out, plates in their hands while Cassian trailed behind with another few in his, and they passed them out to everyone, including you. It was a healthy variety of normal breakfast foods, scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, hash browns, etc.

They all sat down and began digging in while talking, and you weren’t about to not follow their example.

“I forget how much of a bitch cooking can be,”

Nesta said, before taking a bite of toast.

“Yeah, guess we are a bit spoiled back home, huh? Living in a sentient House and all.”

Cassian said with that big idiotic grin, nudging her with his elbow as he swallowed. That comment alone made you swirl with questions.

“Sentient House?”

You asked, raising a brow. That only made Rhys chuckle and shake his head.

“Yes, Cassian and Nesta live in the House of Wind. It’s a sentient home right off of Velaris, on the border almost.”

He replied, a smirk on his lips.

“Don’t forget Az, he’s quiet but he can be a menace when he wants to be.”

Cassian said with his mouth full. Nesta rolled her eyes and swatted him for talking with his mouth full, at which he dramatically acted like he’d suffered a fatal wound.

“You don’t know the half of it. Once he rearranged my entire personal bookshelf in reverse alphabetical order. It took me an entire day just to sort them back out.”

She said, huffing just at the memory alone. You couldn’t help the little bit of genuine laughter that escaped your lips from that.

“What did you do to piss him off that bad?”

You then asked, and Nesta smirked, clearly enjoying thinking about what she'd done to poor Azriel.

“I gave them some money and told them to go have fun. They ended up winning a jackpot that Azriel had to go claim the money for. You should’ve seen the owner’s face when he realized that the shadows had won, I don’t think the shadowsinger has set foot in that place since.”

She said, and Cassian began laughing at that alone, while Rhys and Feyre snickered, and Nyx began giggling and babbling over a hash brown. Cassian’s face went thoughtful for a moment before he glanced up at you.

“You know, you could start training with Az maybe. It’s sort of a custom for our newcomers to start training.”

He said, glancing at Feyre and then at Nesta, who both raised a brow at him. Elain then spoke up.

“He’s always on missions, though. Wouldn’t the inconsistency make it useless?”

She asked in that annoyingly innocent tone, almost like she was a child trying to please their mother with how dainty and sweet they were. You didn’t know why it annoyed you as much as it did, the fact that she knew his schedule, and was actively discouraging you from spending time with him.

“He’s not on too many, things have settled down since the war ended. I think it could help keep your mind off things, too.”

Rhys said with a little nod as if confirming this.

“It’d be more practical if you moved to the House, then. It gets a bit too quiet sometimes, so we wouldn’t mind.”

Nesta said with a shrug, studying you intently for a moment before going back to eating her breakfast, halfway on Cassian’s lap already.

“I’ll ask Az after breakfast, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Cassian said, before shoving another mouthful of fried egg in his mouth, at which Nesta cringed and gave him a look, playfully disgusted.

*********************************************************

“You want me to what?”

“Train her, just in the mornings like what I do with Nesta and her friends. It'll get her mind off of things.”

“Cassian, you know that I can't commit to that with my work-”

“I think you're just scared of females.”

Cassian retorted, in the most serious tone he could manage while Azriel gave him an incredulous look, annoyed.

“I am not scared of females.”

He said firmly, glaring at his brother.

“Oh yeah? When's the last time you've had a hookup?”

Azriel’s mind went frustratingly blank at that. He huffed, before replying.

“I don't see how that's relevant.”

Cassian let out a hoot of laughter, only making the crimson blush creeping up Azriel’s neck progress further.

“See? You are scared of females. Are your nightmares haunted by the sight of pussy?”

Cassian said, making his voice quiver on purpose with his last sentence, making a little ‘oooooh’ sound as if a ghost were haunting Azriel. Azriel only scoffed, shaking his head.

“Fine. I'll train her if you'll stop tormenting me.”

He said, a begrudging resignation in his usually firm and cold tone. Cassian gave a grin of triumph, clapping his brother on the back as he walked past him.

“Good. Treat her well, she's been through a lot.”

He said, before walking out and leaving Azriel alone in the cold office he owned in the House of Wind.

*********************************************************

He seemed to have snuck into your life much faster than you'd expected him to.

You’d moved into the House of Wind, which hadn’t been difficult given your lack of actual things to pack and move, and very slowly adjusted to living in a sentient House.

It still scared the shit out of you when the bath would randomly start running at the perfect temperature, with all the oils you loved, at the exact time when you were thinking about how much you’d like a bath. Or the times when perfect meals would show up, both healthy and also satisfying your specific cravings, and how the House almost adjusted to fit your needs every time, providing you with everything you needed, clothes, entertainment, food, water, and more.

The training was a different subject, though.

You still could barely do the stretches Azriel tried to work you through. His lithe, muscular body could pull it off flawlessly, which you supposed was a given for someone who had centuries of practice and experience. Most of the time, it only succeeded in you being sore and aching in the mornings, and that was how it went for what felt like years, though only a month had passed.

There was one thing you particularly enjoyed about your training, though.

“Like this, your arm should be hooked around, but not depending on it too much..”

His voice was quiet but strong, confident, and sure as he always was in his silent way as he guided you. His own muscular body, donning no shirt, performed the same exercise you were supposed to be doing, and mimicking poorly.

You couldn’t help but be distracted by the winding tattoo that seemed almost alive as the rising sun cast an orange glow of light against his body, creating a perfect contrast and mixture with his already-tanned skin and midnight hair. Not to mention the light purple color that was projected onto the ground through the thinnest parts of his wing’s membrane, the sun casting light against it as well.

Azriel had grown closer to you in the month you’d been around him, and you’d noticed him observing you intently as if to catch every little habit and quirk about you. You’d been watching, too, seeing the way his fingers might twitch if exposed to the cold, or how his wings fluttered ever so slightly when a cool breeze went by, and all of the things he tried too hard to conceal and lock away.

“…”

You snapped out of it, seeing him watching you with a blank stare, only a glimmer of suspicion and curiosity in his dark hazel eyes.

“Sorry, I got distracted.”

You said, shaking your head to get yourself back into the headspace of training, where you could forget your grief and sadness, and become something new, something freer and unbound.

*********************************************************

Azriel knew he was pushing it when only one and a half months into your training he slowly began introducing you to swordplay.

He didn’t give you a real sword, over his dead body would he provide a real weapon to a beginner, you had to earn your steel, but for now he gave you a worn wooden one. The same one Nesta had used when Cassian had started training her.

You’d seemed unsure about it, but accepted it without complaint, as you seemed to do with most he did these days. He had caught himself several times, the lingering glances, his hands ‘accidentally’ brushing against your waist, the sparkling heat in his veins when he saw you in those tight Illyrian leathers, trying to obey him and go into the positions he showed you.

He was wondering if you’d caught him, though he already knew the answer.

It was nearly impossible to resist the urge when his shadows screamed and cried silently out for you when they tried to shove you two together and force him to confront you with his suppressed feelings and desires. He’d never felt them so strongly attached to someone other than himself before, and it made him a bit uneasy.

However, it all came to a climax when today, for what felt like the hundredth time, he knocked your wooden sword to the ground and had you pinned beneath his gaze, but this time, his sword against your neck, hands holding you down, something different happened.

*********************************************************

It felt like a warmth blooming throughout your entire body, as if someone had lit the butterflies in your stomach on fire and they were now exploding and popping, sending waves of heat and shock throughout your being. Though you didn’t know what was fully happening, your instincts did.

Azriel stumbled back as if he’d been hit, staring wide-eyed at you, and as you opened your mouth to speak he immediately disappeared in a flurry of shadows and darkness, winnowing somewhere.

Training was over for today, you assumed, as you tossed your wooden sword to the ground in the training ring and walked inside, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened, and why he’d seemed so utterly shocked.

You knew he had his eyes on Elain, helping her harden and cook and spending time with her and seeming all too happy about it while training with you seemed like pulling teeth to him.

You tried to shake it off as you headed back into your room to decompress in a hot bath.

*********************************************************

Mate.

The word had hit him like a brick at that moment, and the next thing he knew he was hiccuping and sobbing, mumbling out words to Rhys in his office.

His brother held him close, not questioning what he said for now and just listening.

“She’s my mate, Rhys, and I don’t even think she knows it, but I don’t..how am I going to tell her? She doesn’t want me-“

He’d sobbed into Rhys’ shoulder, his brother quietly shushing him. It had been too long since Azriel had cried, centuries almost, and this had just broken the dam and let the flood tear through his body. The shadows seemed agitated as they swirled around the room, poking and prodding at the furniture and whatnot.

“It’s okay, Az. One step at a time, just breathe, okay? Take a deep breath, and let’s calm down.”

Rhys said in the most soothing, soft tone he could manage, one usually only reserved for Nyx and sometimes Feyre if she was lucky.

However, unbeknownst to either of them, a third person listened in. A female who’d had her eyes on the shadowsinger longer than that new girl thrown into the mix. Elain Archeron believed she was a far better match for Azriel’s stoicism and reserved nature, only she should get the privilege of seeing behind those stone walls he’d built up. A feeling of twisted jealousy and possession curdling in her sweet, loving heart, unlike anything she’d felt before.

That new girl suddenly being Azriel’s mate? That wouldn’t do.

Not at all.

Tags:

@lilah-asteria

@evangeline-xo

@hayrunnwr

@rcarbo1

Part 3

[yutas-girlfriend]

megumi x reader oneshot

you and megumi get into an argument about your safety.

warnings: nothing too nsfw, makeout, yelling

looking him dead in the eyes, without a hint of hesitation, you notice his eyes flare like a fire being fed with gasoline. his jaw clenches and he swiftly grabs your wrist urgently and begins stomping away. a look of confusion and excitement spreads accross your face as the rest of the group begins to chatter once more.

you’ve always known how to press megumis buttons. hes an easy target, practically anything can annoy him to the point of snapping, and you fed off it. you were an excellent fighter both physically and with words, and so was megumi. you fought day in and day out since your return to jujutsu tech, but this was different. this was not a normal friend fight. the only thing you didn’t enjoy arguing about was your safety. he was no saint, definitely a rule breaker, but not in a way that would jeopardize his ability to see you again. you on the other hand, were a rule breaker without many boundaries. you often found yourselves fighting about the situations you got yourself into, and the possible danger.

he dragged you into the nearest classroom and sat down on one of the few desks. it was dark, with only the sunset shining through the windows. you wanted to get this over with, it was getting late now. you begin rubbing your temples, as he exhales sharply.

“i just dont want you to get hurt. you have to understand where im coming from, don’t you?“ he says sharply, looking at your face once more.

“i never said i didn’t understand, but i’m fine. i always am. name one time i’ve been seriously hurt.” the words sting as they come out of your mouth. you already know whats coming next. he huffs, and a small sarcastic chuckle leaves him.

“name one? just one fucking time of the hundreds youve been seriously injured? are you kidding me?” he begins standing and walking towards you, stopping a few inches from your face. “i didnt see you for months because you went on that stupid mission that almost got you killed! ” he says loudly. “what about the time you decided to be a hero and go back for that woman? or the time you jumped in front of me? you are lucky to be alive.” he says pointing at you as he stares daggers into your eyes. you’re no pussy, so you stand staring back at him, not breaking eye contact for a second. he’s breathing heavily, his arms hanging loosely. your pissed, but even when the rage he fuels you with is flowing in your veins, you have to admit hes beautiful. he has a tall, slender but purely muscular frame. his jet black hair is messy but purposely, it sits softly framing his face. his bright eyes gleam in the sun light, as the bright beams bounce around the room, reflecting off the perfectly polished button on his jacket. but by far, one of his best features, were his lips. never dry, always perfectly plump and a soft pink colour, even though he bit them when he was angry, uncomfortable or nervous. you allow yourself a swift momentary glance at his lips. his breathing hitches for a moment. shit. he noticed. he looks at yours. shit. hes still breathing as if hes angry, the rage from before still sitting with you both. you continue breathing heavily and staring at each other, but the anger is slowly fading. it seems to be replaced by something else, something deeper. lust?

in the blink of an eye, he grips your face from above as he steps forwards and kisses you roughly. you grip the sides of his neck as you continue. he moves his hands slowly downward to your hips as you press yourself to his chest. you pull closer and suck his lip gently, clearly igniting something within him. you place your leg upwards towards his hip as he moves his hands to your thighs, lifting you up and onto the counter by the wall. he moves his hands to your hips and pulling you closer to him. you grab his hair in your hand, pulling his face as close as it could possibly be to your own. wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull his hips against your own. he kisses you harder, and you let out a small hum at the feeling.

suddenly, he pulls his mouth from yours, a string of saliva between you. he looks drunk, eyes droopy and hair messy. he kisses you one more, but softer, much more tender this time. he holds your face in his hands and you place your own over top. he pulls away once more and rests his forehead against your own. “please be careful,” he mumbles, placing his face in the crook of your neck. your hands find his again, and you turn your head slightly so he can hear. “i’ll try,” you say quietly back.

he lets out a sigh of relief.

[cowgirlcherrie]

⬭ 𓈒 hey there! all star. chapter one: all stars repent

╰   * rockstar! ellie x singer! reader x rockstar! abby

synopsis: At All Star Music University deviance isn’t tolerated. When the band room is up in flames with 3 music students to blame, community service at a band camp in the summer is in order.

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smoking, drinking, arson, fighting, violence, will get sexual in further chapters, platonic soulmates (for now) between r! and abby, partying, slightly dark but may get darker, kissing, touching, angst, fluff + comedy, smut, crushing, mutual pinning, swearing, rock band references, music college AU, just shitty choices, fem reader

a/n: so excited to start this fic series! Literally put my previous Ellie fic idea on pause because I had to get this one out before the idea like completely lost me, but inspired by rebelde & camp rock and this, and this beautiful art by @kissesskittens ♡ enjoy my loves! reblogs and comments are always appreciated I want to know what you think!

01. all stars repent

Right place wrong time will certainly do it to the most lavish and meticulous.

The silence was so prominent that you were too afraid to cough. Afraid to even breathe in the container of an office. Your head was making up all the possibilities of what people would be saying. Good girl gone bad! Or the aspiring pop singer is an arsonist. It all just made you debilitated. Fiddling with your bottom lip watching the ticking of the clock almost as if you were waiting for a bell to ring. The ticking, slow and steady, matched the pace of Ellie’s shaking leg syncing with Abby’s drumstick against the wood of her chair. You rarely prayed for such occasions, but now? You were on your knees hands looped together hoping for a miracle. 

“Do you three know how much trouble you are in?!” The Dean, Mrs. McCall-Ster spoke up from her desk, voice booming in the small yet vacant room, making Abby smirk at her anger. Abby’s pink and black peek-a-boo highlights in her blonde hair flashed with every head tilt she made from her ponytail.

“Dude what did you do!” you shouted, slightly pushing Abby and Ellie away from the melting drumset, the smell of char and burning wood filling your nostrils as the three of you backed away from the burning music equipment. The flames reflected a warm light on the three of you, coughing to get out of the way.

“I mean how does this even start?” The dean cried out, taking off her glasses to rub her eyes in frustration.

“Take your fucking lighter!” Ellie shouted, pointing at Abby’s lighter which was leaking fluid onto the remaining lit instruments. The flame roared.

“What?” 

“Fucking hell [Ellie please!] Abby take it!” Ellie screamed. 

All three of your voices were meshing together as you all were screaming at each other.

The hi-hat plate from the drums falls to the floor.

You shrouded into your seat even more, as Ellie’s leg bounced against yours – that was the only way to get you to breathe, through your nose this time and not through your mouth.

“Is something funny Ms. Anderson?” The dean asked Abby making Ellie and yourself turn heads to the blonde, seeing her lips zipped tightly looking down into her lap that she was manspreading in. Abby shook her head.

“Fucking hell” Ellie groaned out, throwing her hands up – tilting her head up at the pearly white ceiling.

“Language Ms. Williams!” 

“We are going to get expelled!” you cried out, bringing a hand up to your mouth as your eyes started to water at the sight of the room deteriorating in flames.

“Doll go grab the extinguisher in the hall– shit…there goes the amplifiers, Hurry!” Ellie shooed you pushing you into the hall.

“Just pull the fucking fire alarm!” Abby shouted.

“Sorry,” Ellie coughed scratching through the strands of her loose hair at the nape of her neck.

“What’s our punishment?” Abby dragged, rolling her eyes then putting her drumstick down to tap your armrest of the chair – making you snatch it from her large hands placing the slender wood into your lap in an organized fashion.

“Punishment? you should be lucky you three aren’t getting expelled for public destruction of school property!” The woman hissed, looking at a paper in front of her. Your head tilted, letting out a sigh of relief when she said you weren’t getting expelled, but that definitely meant there will still be consequences, hell academic probation, on-campus service work? The possibilities were endless

“At the end of the Spring Semester, there will be no summer for you three —”

“But!”

“But nothing Ms. Williams, You all will be working at the All-Star Camp as counselors for our kid’s enrichment program” 

Ellie growled as you shrugged and Abby kissed her teeth. This was indefinitely deserved and entirely ridiculous. You couldn’t survive three months in a room with Ellie and Abby hell they would probably bite each other’s head off while you were at it. Trying to stop your best friend and your crush from recreating a fight club brawl was way more stressful than you thought. 

“How l-long is this for?” You question, your voice is soft contrasting the raspy aggressiveness from Ellie and Abby all afternoon. All eyes are on you. This was the first thing you had said in all of this summons. Your hands were tugging at the bottom of your red and black plaid uniform skirt shifting under Ellie and Abby’s gaze.

“Excellent question, starting June first, you will be set to head back to campus meeting our bus that will transport you to our All-Star Camping site. June 20th you all are free to go, with the exception that in the fall you will clean the destroyed practice room.” Mrs. McCall-Ster explained, taking out a brochure from her pile of photos and putting it in front of you all. The three of you leaned forward, you fully committing to grabbing the pamphlet with Ellie and Abby on both sides of your shoulders. 

Abby snickers as she points out the NO SMOKING under the rules and regulations portion with her finger, making you send a jab into her stomach. 

No smoking or E-cigarettes of any sort…

No phones…cabin wired phones only 

No extra guest 

No leaving the campground premises 

Ellie cleared her throat, “So, uh…all these rules apply to counselors as well?” Ellie questioned scratching at her throat.

“In simple terms yes, it’s to ensure public safety”

“I’m still gonna do like 3 things off this list anyways” Abby whispered in your ear making you let out a low giggle at her response. Ellie only glanced at the two of you, faint confusion wore on her face like a jacket. Ellie licked her lips before going back to the pamphlet. 

Rules didn’t stop rockstars anywhere – Hell all of you wouldn’t be where you are without a little bit of rule-breaking.

“So are we clear? It’s either Band Camp counseling charity or expelled” The Dean shrugged. The choice really was yours. Reaching behind her she brought out a sign-up sheet, with a blue pen clipped to the clipping board. It was separated into 3 columns. One for your name, Student ID, and email. 

You bit the bullet. Vouched yourself first to make the decision. Digging in your backpack’s front pocket to bring out a pink pen scribbling your name on the paper – sealing it with a click. Slamming the inked catalase down to flesh the paper. 

“Free to go?” you question, vastly glancing at the clock above the elder’s head.

“As you wish”

With that you grabbed your bag from the floor, gently making your way out of the office. Not even bothering to look at Abby, Ellie, or even the dean, the conversation was enough to exhaust you. Ellie and Abby bore holes into your backside, before locking eyes with each other rushing to be the first at the pink pen you left behind. 

Honestly, you were glad. Glad that this wouldn’t wreck your student record, put you on academic probation, or make your parents run your ear off. They were already on your ass already about you being so far from home and not calling. Your phone was almost nonexistent from your end, and communication was cut entirely.

Making your way out of the administering building, where the Dean’s office was located you let out a loud audible sigh throwing your bag on the ground to sit on the creaky wooden bench, kicking the cobblestone and pebbles beneath you. Tugging frequently at your tights and almost wanting to pull your hair out of your scalp. You didn’t understand how Abby…or even Ellie did it. This rebellious nature left you with knots in your stomach, feeling sick at the thought of being taken for a hard-headed rule breaker. Coincidentally enough you found yourself waiting for Abby to leave the office, knowing that the two of you would walk back together to your dorms. 

Abby, not only your best friend, personal chauffeur, and roommate but happened to be the wisest out of the two of you. At times she can be self-serving and rude, thanks to her nepotism, you still cherished her support. 

She was there when Elora from your fall semester music theory class, broke off your situationship to start pursuing some other girl seriously, despite Elora telling you that she was ready for a relationship. As for more current events, when you started having a crush on Ellie…Which Abby didn’t really understand but thugged it out just for you. 

“Boo!” Abby shook your shoulders, creeping up behind you giving you a shock, as you jolted from the bench – turning around to slap Abby on her rock-solid arm. Abby laughed watching your pissed expression as the breeze blew by making her hair block her face. 

“So…I corrupt you yet? How did we do Robin?” Abby took her hand shaking the top of your head as you swatted her hand away. It was like having an annoying bug nagging in your ear. 

Abby’s appearance was disheveled, her hair pulled back in a ponytail exposing her 3 helix piercings in one ear, stick-n’ poked star constellation trailing down her left ear and her uniform worn terribly. The red jacket of her uniform top bunched up in her hands – tie loose around her neck as her button down was untucked in her pants. Dickes, form-fitting with her drumsticks sticking outside of her back pocket. Abby was cool in your eyes, everything you wished to be – you wanted to just not care about anything anymore, you wanted her confidence. 

“Bad corruption tactic Batman, think we almost killed half of campus” you mumbled robotically making Abby shriek a laugh. You grabbed your bag from the floor, slinging it over your shoulder – tucking the drumstick out of your hands and into Abby’s butt pocket letting out a huff of air.

“What’s with the long face? and I know it’s not because of Mrs. McCall-Ster” Abby questioned swinging her hand around your shoulder as the two of you walked back to your dorm building. That was just an invitation for you to ramble. 

“Did you see how good she looked, oh my god Abby, like her shirt was a little loose– clearly not ironed by the way and her hair…fuck the haircut looks so–”

“Please be quiet…god ew!” Abby stuck her tongue out like a child in disgust as you rolled her eyes. Afternoons often went like this. You see Ellie once in your hectic schedule, sending glances her way – looking back at her twice before running off to Abby to boast about how good she looked.

“I let you talk to me about Nora [keep your voice down gosh!] it’s only fai–” Abby sent the hand she had around your shoulder to cup your mouth, making you stick your tongue out licking her hand making Abby wipe her hand on your skirt. “You’re so nasty!”

You popped a middle finger, almost tussling with Abby when a gentle finger tapped your shoulder. The faint smell of cigarettes and musky vanilla wood filled your nostrils, making you whip your head around to see the auburn-haired rockstar in the flesh. Ellie, like Abby wore her uniform incorrectly, her tie loosely around her neck, this time her button-down was tucked in partially to her trousers. The freckled-faced girl recently cut her hair trading her usually pulled-back look for a mullet, as a cigarette dangled from her pink slightly cracked lips. She gave you a gentle smile, teeth and all – smile dropping at the sight of Abby.

“Forgot something?” Ellie questioned, her voice was groggy and smooth, definitely rough with her delivery – but with her tone it sounded like she was trying to be softer, for you.

“Hmmm…I don’t think so” you challenged raising your eyebrows just the slightest, mirroring Ellie’s smile. Ellie took the cigarette out from the bed it made of her lips digging in her pocket to reveal a pen. But not just any pen, your pink pen.

“Holy shit! Thank you!” you exclaim reaching for the pen – you were so caught up in your fear you were willing to ditch your pen back at the Deans office. Abby was turned away from the two, her failed attempt at giving privacy – trying to ignore the conversation that was happening – not even bothering to give Ellie a hello. As you reached for the pink-coated plastic your fingers, for a second, brushed Ellie’s feeling her slightly dry and cool fingers twitch at the touch of yours.

“Yeah…yeah it’s no problem” Ellie emphasized the no problem, abruptly bringing the cigarette up to her mouth like a safety net to protect her from saying the wrong things. You could tell she was anxious – what she was anxious for however, that was particularly cloudy. Her hands were jittery, the rocking on her heels back and forth. She had something to say.

“So the community service…you sign up?” you question, hitting the pen against the palm of your hand, trying to make conversation.

“Oh definitely, I was not getting expelled – that’s fucking ridiculous” Ellie exhaled the smoke, her eyes flicking between your pink-tinted lip gloss that rested upon your lips, quickly shifting her eyes back to your face. She could smell your perfume – it was strong and sweet, Ellie almost wanting to take a bite as if you were a rich and delicate dessert. 

The dulcet moment was ruined by Abby clearing her throat, making you blink your dark eyelashes repeatedly at her interruption. 

“Sorry…not really, but sorry to ruin the vibes here we actually have to go…boxes” Abby excused, grabbing at your arm to drag you away. 

“Thank you, Ellie! See you in June!” you shouted as you waved politely with a closed smile, making Ellie smile right back at you, tossing her cigarette to the ground and stopping on it with her beat-up Converse. 

“See you…dear” Ellie turned on her heels walking in the opposite direction, plugging in her headphones.

It was almost cinematic, the way you started to whisper-yell at Abby dragging you, arguing about how she ruined the moment. Calmness from Ellie’s end as she walked in her own direction, wired headphones playing loud rock in both ears. You would be dreaming about Ellie’s face for the rest of May until you finally got to see it again. This time in front of a campfire, as you direct little kids on how to properly use instruments. You just had to hold on until June, which felt more like a rabbit walking into a cage with a bunch of lions ready to feast.

☆*•. 

Packing was hard to do when it felt like a goodbye. Packing where you spent 7 months crying, yelling, and screaming all felt foreign to you. It was like taking the training wheels off. You wanted nothing more than to try and stable yourself before you fell over and had to start anew. Throwing pictures in boxes, and putting clothes in bags trying to scrape the room spotless, was peculiar. You never thought you would see the day when the room you had grown to love would be vacant and probably passed to some incoming freshman. 

“This is still hard as fuck…I mean look at the way your dad signed this shit” you pointed “...and the little wine stain too oh he was definitely drunk” You lifted up a signed drumhead by Abby’s father that she gifted you for Christmas. Jerry got himself into a little bit of a hustle, becoming the drummer for a Foo Fighters equivalent band he was like a Roger Taylor from Queen, Taylor Hawkins, or Ringo Starr. He was a fucking pro, and pretty good at his job too. It was no surprise that Abby fell into the shoes that Jerry used to fill becoming a drumming prodigy in no time.

“Bro…I still remember asking him to do it too! he squished my cheeks together– real tight and you know what he said,” Abby trotted over to you from her side of the bed where she was stuffing her room decor in boxes to grab at your cheeks, pretending that she had a glass of wine in her hands, “Tell your friend, or whateva she is to be a star! And go get shit done!” 

You let out a laugh as your cheeks had been squeezed by Abby’s thick hands as she gave you a gentle slap to the face before getting back to work. 

“Oh isn’t your guitar signed by David Grohl too!” you exaggerated, turning around from where you stood at your desk, playing Pictionary with an imaginary guitar. Abby let out a groan tilting her head back in annoyance. 

“And you know what your little girlfriend told me?” Abby turned around again to face you, mocking Ellie “Go to hell! You fuckin’ Nepo-baby!”

You snickered under your breath with your tongue in your cheek. “Does she kiss her mother with that mouth?” you laughed at the statement walking over to Abby and smacking her on the back of the head.

“Hey-...”

“I hope she doesn’t kiss you with that mouth either…” Abby whispered making fish lips at you, resulting in you smacking her on the head again as she shrank away from you avoiding your hands.

It was times like this you were certain you were going to miss room 1105. Where your room was too close to the bathrooms and you could hear the toilets flush every time or the annoying beeping from the ongoing traffic. It was all surreal. 

“I’m gonna…really, uh miss you- you know” you stuttered out, holding a picture frame in your hand as you put it in another bag. “We are literally moving in together next year off campus, don’t get all sappy on me!”

“I’m not, I’m not!” you defended, “I just feel like good roommates are one-hit wonders around here, so I’m really glad I got you and if I ever got in trouble here…Batman, I’m glad it was with you” you confessed your chest feeling decompressed from the weight of your emotions leaving your mouth.

Everything you were saying was awfully true and right. You had your ups and downs – even though you were seeing her again it still felt like a harsh goodbye. 

“Thanks for dying my hair with Kool-Aid by the way, I taste the fruit punch and grape every time I’m in the shower” Abby sneered throwing a shirt of hers at your face. 

“At least it wasn’t fucking Manic Panic!” you shouted, throwing the shirt back at her.

“Language, Mrs. Williams” Abby teased, mocking Mrs. McCall-Ster from earlier. That did sound nice, Ellie’s last name with your first. It felt good to hear Abby say it, almost making you bite your tongue to tell her to say it again– but slowly.

“Oh get your shit together!”

☆*•. 

JUNE 1ST.

Staying local was a smart decision, Abby picking you up at the ripe hour of 6 am, as you trudged to her car under the dimly lit sunrise. Sky still blue making the trees shine in shades of navy. You couldn’t believe you were really doing this, feeling yourself get antsy. You had 3 months to potentially get with the girl of your dreams you couldn’t screw it up. Not now. You weren’t sure at all what Ellie thought of you or where her head was, hell the girl was hard to read. So fucking hard to read. Your deepest fantasies were filled with her, hovering on top of you in a dimly lit room as her hands ghosted your face, trailing down to your lips and giving delicate kisses to your collarbone. 

Would it pain her to slip in an – I like you.

That’s all you wanted to hear. 

“Chop chop! Walk with some passion…thank you” Abby howled, rolling down her window to be face to face with you. Abby now had long curtain bangs, the Kool-Aid from May fully washed out of her golden locks but this time black rectangle sunglasses rested on her face. She changed. Not in a bad way she looked cooler and healthy. Like she wasn’t eating cigarettes for dinner or spending sleepless nights making music. A shark tooth this time rested on her neck – skin sunkissed and slightly red from the sun.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses, the sun isn’t even out?” you scrunched up your face in confusion, throwing your bag in the backseat and making your way to the passenger side. “You’re an ass” Abby mumbled pushing the sunglasses to rest in her hair, revealing the pealing around her under eyes.

“Wear sunscreen penis-face!” Abby groaned at your response, finally seeing your appearance. You were thriving in the summer heat. Hair put in a half up-half down sealed with a cute bow. Your skin was healthily moisturized and also kissed by the sun, creating a permanent glow on you. Candied jewelry decorating your neck, with beaded and yarn bracelets at your wrist.

‘Don’t you look cool! I’m scared of you…cute hair” Abby teased making you pretend to flip your hair before getting in the car. The Ac was blaring, alongside some heavy rock music, as Abby bobbed her head back and forth to the drumline. The click of your seatbelt was enough confirmation to make her put her foot down on the pedal. 

“So how was your week and a half of your summer before our life goes to shit for a month?” Abby teased tapping away at the wheel you slumping in the seat to her right. “Good…I guess? I don’t know – I went to the beach, played beach volleyball with a bunch of strangers, got totally wasted”

The window was down blowing the curly pieces from your braids into your face. Hair sticking to your lip gloss like glue. 

“There’s my girl…so, what about the girl?”

“Ellie?”

“No, your mom– yes! That girl” Abby suggested, waving her hands and motioning for you to tell her more. 

“She may or may not have been in my Instagram likes and comments…” you respond with a shit-eating grin on your face, recalling such events.  

Rockedoutellie: This is so sick! Rockedoutellie: aren’t you just pretty tho, love the view ;) 

“She what!” Abby shouted giving you a slight shoulder nudge with her elbow. “So when is the wedding?”

“Not happening she’s just being friendly”

You psyched yourself out of reality. You felt like a kid again, in primary school, picking up a dandelion blowing wishing that your sandbox lover would like you back. Ellie pulled at your heartstrings and any crush longer than 3 months…might as well have been love. You stalked into her Instagram too, giving as much love on your post as she gave you back. It was only fair.

PinkMicrophoneprincess: So…When’s the tour? PinkMicrophoneprincess: Free guitar rifts by Ms. Ellie Williams? Your followers should be thanking you :))

It was cute you thought. Just girls being girls it was entirely natural, and light-hearted. Too soon to start thinking about things too deeply that would send you overthinking into oblivion. 

“So…you gonna set any rules with this estrange lovers of yours” Abby suggested, making you rub at your scalp “What do you mean?”

“Like…not letting her distract you from the fact we have work to do?” Abby pushed further making you squint your eyes at the girl. Well yes, you did have a job to do but it all could be managed with a little fun. She must play me for a fool, you thought, kissing your teeth subtly, going unnoticed by Abby. 

“Yeah…yeah, should we bet on it?” 

Now this was risky business, you couldn’t catch the words that were falling out of your mouth, melting like butter and slipping in between the crack of your lips. A bet was stupid and you were grown – to be honest you weren’t sure what it would bring you besides months works of crying and bad luck. It was far too late to change your mind now.

“$10 that you could totally not fall in love with her at this camp” Abby taunted making you swallow hardly feeling a tightening in your chest. You already were “Make it 30 with the inclusion that I could hook up – no strings attached”

“Ooh,” Abby sang through arrangements of laughs. “What happened to my innocent girl? You are getting risky…Robin”

“Don’t hate the player, Batman…hate the game” You shrugged. 

The devious nicknames the two of you shared were back. The names that only came out when you were about to do something entirely devious that could potentially cause detrimental damage to your lives. Batman and Robin, partners in victory and in danger.

What were you doing?

Your body was yelling at you to pull the stops, almost as if a red emergency light was flashing above your head screaming STOP! In all caps. An endless pit grew in your stomach with nausea washing over you, suddenly you didn’t feel good, nerves racking with anxiety; it was a miracle you didn’t throw in the white towel yet. Something terrible would brew at this camp and you knew it. Trying to stay your hardest away from Ellie Williams was just the tip of the iceberg.

Ellie was a wild card. A mind-blowing audition got her into the university – 3K followers on Instagram, she was well known and well respected. She was also devious – a heartbreaker to some magnitudes, her ex-girlfriend being the living proof of that. Ellie Williams would blow you out of the water, break some hearts and definitely send a sword piercing through yours. Biting at your nails you realized you were ready to risk it. Fuck around and find out for all you cared. 

You might as well make this summer worth it. 

Abby spits into her hand – you doing the same as she put her hand out in front of you.

“Seal or no deal”

You gripped her hand firmly, nails scratching against her dry skin as your collected saliva melted into each other, liquids morphing into one at the connection of your hands, warming up the sticky substance in between. The deed has started and you were tempted to win it.

“Bring it on Anderson”

next chapter

© cowgirlcherrie

taglist—

@ellsss @rarestdoll @luvrgalore @starologist @destielcore @beforeimdeceased @zahraaziza

[starhvney]

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒: 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒

𝐂𝐖: bullying, fighting, slight mention of blood (bloody nose)

𝐀/𝐍: me after writing this in one day :3 sleep? nuh uh

𝐖𝐂: 5,100 +

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

the morning air felt perfect against your face as you resisted falling back asleep while standing in front of aphmau’s house. the red door that distantly stood in your vision reminded you of last evening, when you felt much less calm than now.

you hold your breath as you slowly turn to look behind you, scanning the quiet street. the black vehicle no longer stood out against your vision, your eyes only meeting vacant asphalt where it had been before. 

the early morning sun still felt cool as it reflected off the puddles on the ground, evidence of last night’s rainy storm. your lungs shakily deflate as you relax, focusing on the morning birdsong and distant cars passing on a main street nearby.

clearing your throat, you decide to just text aphmau to ask what was taking so long. your messages immediately pull up to last night’s conversation.

laurance: hey, i have to walk to school tomorrow cause my sister isn’t going

laurance: want to meet up and walk together tomorrow?

aphmau: yeah!

you: yeah for sure! meet in front of aph’s at 7:40.

laurance: cool, i’ll see you guys in the morning!

aphmau: goodnight!

you: goodnight guys :)

read yesterday, 9:20 pm

you hum to yourself, tapping your shoe against the sidewalk as you switch to your messages with aphmau.

you: i’m out front, you almost ready?

aphmau: yeah, so sorry! got distracted ><

aphmau: i’ll be outside in a sec

you: no prob!

it’s only a minute later that aphmau appears from her front door, hair bouncing as she quickly jogs down the steps and stops in front of you. her hair is down today, falling in light, natural-looking curls against her shoulder. 

“i woke up late and didn’t feel like styling my hair,” she explains, patting down her loose strands when she notices your gaze directed on her head.

“it’s pretty,” you simply return, reassuring her with a smile and a nod.

she relaxes, muttering a “thank you,” before rubbing her eyes with a yawn.

“did you stay up late or something?”

aphmau freezes, before slowly nodding her head.

“uh, yeah… there’s this online friend i have. i accidentally stayed up too late with him playing our favorite game together.”

you make a small “ooohh” sound in return.

“that’s fun. have y’all been friends for a long time?”

“yeah! like, two years.”

“aw, that’s nice. what does he look like, what’s his name?”

“uhhh…”

you blink, staring at her expectantly.

“well, we don’t know what each other looks like… and his online name is fc.” she admits, pressing her lips together and tugging on a strand of her hair. 

“…you’ve been friends for two years but you don’t even know each other's names? what if he’s some random old man?”

aphmau huffs, crossing her arms.

“well, i mean… i think it’s safer if we’re both anonymous. besides, we’re just friends.”

you hum, tilting your head in thought.

“yeah. i guess you’re right.”

aphmau bites her lip, eyebrows pinching together as she looks away in thought. she glances back at you hesitantly, like she was debating whether she should bring something up to you or not.

“what is it?”

“…i’m just nervous about the whole ivy situation.”

you sigh, biting your lip as you stare down at your feet in thought.

“she’s smart about how she’s doing it. no witnesses, holding the risk of our reputations over our heads. we need to find a way to get her caught without making it obvious.”

“morning!” laurance calls from behind you, his voice still a bit hoarse from sleep.

you turn to greet the boy, taking in his appearance. he seemed to have rushed this morning, the tie to his uniform slightly undone and hair still mussed from sleep.

“we’ll figure something out later,” you whisper to aphmau, to which she nods briskly.

“what’s up?” he asks, noticing your hushed voices and secretive formation.

“we’re having a secret girl meeting. without you.”

his eyebrows raise in surprise before he barks out a small laugh in amusement.

“fair enough.”

☆

you haven’t seen aphmau for most of the day since you parted from her at the school’s front doors—and it was something that was bothering you.

based on the smug tilt of ivy’s lips when she watched you walk into your homeroom this morning, you have a serious feeling she’s up to something, and you definitely prefer to be with aphmau when it happens.

does she genuinely not have anything better to do?

your stomach feels heavy as you enter the art classroom, especially when your eyes land on the kind-natured blonde who smiles and waves at your appearance. you feel bad at the tempting thought to ignore his welcoming face and sit on the other side of the classroom, just to avoid the wrath of the snake who now stays wrapped up in your thoughts.

your jaw sets in place, stubbornly throwing away the idea as soon as it enters your head. it’s not his fault, and you weren’t going to throw away your chance at a new friend group because of some girl’s crazy crush. 

“hey guys,” you greet your small friend group, sitting between laurance and aphmau and leaning over to smile at garroth.

your eyes stay trained on aphmau’s for an extra moment longer as you lean back. she merely blinks, smiling calmly at your silent questioning. she hasn’t had any run-ins, then. good.

“ok, class. today we’re going to practice by doing a figure-drawing exercise. would anyone like to be a model for the class?”

you blink in surprise as aphmau’s hand raises, volunteering with an, “i will!”

“not as shy as i thought,” laurance notes as aphmau strides her short legs to the center of the classroom, hoisting herself up onto the stool.

“anxious but extroverted. an interesting combo,” you conclude his thought with a laugh as garroth scoots closer to the two of you.

the three of you start your portraits, your chatter quieting as you focus on the drawings in front of you. occasionally, garroth glances at yours and laurance’s pages, his lips forming into a pout out of the corner of your eye. you turn to look at him, tilting your head forward to catch his eye as he glares down at his paper.

“what?” you question him simply, your smile light and teasing.

his eyes nervously dart to you, unable to escape as you lean into his vision.

“ugh,” he groans, scribbling his graphite harshly against the page. “i’m just not good at art.”

he hides his work from you with his arm as you lean forward, trying to get a glance at his page.

“i’m sure it’s not that bad,” you encourage, lightly tugging on his forearm.

his ears turn red, barely hidden by the medium-length sandy blonde strands that curled around them. he sighs in defeat, lifting his arm to reveal the crude drawing underneath. laurance immediately giggles in amusement from beside you, his hand muffling the noise as he glances over your shoulder. 

garroth turns to glare at him, and you deliver a light kick to the boy’s shin with a scolding look.

“no, yeah. it’s not that bad!” laurance says between laughs, before snorting as he looks down at the page again. “not bad at all.”

you pitifully glance back at garroth who was now blankly staring at his page, the corner of his lips turning down in an embarrassed smile.

“well… i see his potential. if he practiced-”

“aw, i think you’re too sweet on him,” laurance leans into you, ruffling your hair with a grin. “no need to lie.”

“don’t be rude! everyone has their strengths and weaknesses.”

laurance glances down at your page with a pointed look and raised eyebrows. 

“funny, coming from clearly the best artist out of the three of us. no need to be humble.”

you sigh, exasperated at laurance’s teasing nature.

“yeah, you’re way better than i could be, even if i practiced,” garroth glances over at your sketch.

“well, i practice art a lot as a hobby. if i went out and tried to play baseball or soccer i’d probably never be on either of your levels. it’s not a bad thing, i’ve just never played.”

garroth purses his lips, still staring down your and laurance’s pages.

“can you teach me?”

“huh?”

“can you give me some tips on how to draw better?”

you blink, before nodding with a smile. “yeah, sure. maybe you two can teach me to play your sports as payment.”

he smiles, and laurance ruffles your hair once more before leaning off of you.

“sure, sounds like a good deal to me. speaking of, laurance, how’s the soccer team looking this year?”

“you play soccer?” aphmau questions, returning back to her place as garroth makes room for her.

“yep! i’m the captain this year.”

“woah, awesome!”

“yeah, and i haven’t forgotten about the schedule. i’ll give one to both of you when it comes out.”

“like you don’t have fan girls lining up to watch you already,” garroth rolls his eyes. “looking to add to your collection.”

“hey! this is different,” laurance pouts. “and you’re one to talk about fangirls.”

you make eye contact with aphmau, who gives you a look that says, “no, seriously.”

“and to answer your question,” he sighs. “the team is a mess this year. all our good players graduated last year. we’ll be lucky to make it through the season in one piece. what about you?”

“meh, it’s fine so far. dante’s been coming to practice and he’s not half bad. we might have a decent lineup.”

that was that gene guy’s little brother, right? you haven’t met him yet.

the bell interrupts your conversation, signaling the beginning of the athletics period.

“ok, class! be sure to turn in your drawings at the front before leaving. you’re dismissed. oh, and miss salome, you can turn in any drawing next class period so i can evaluate your skill level.”

“oh, okay! thank you!”

“ooh, real quick! let’s take a selfie!” aphmau whips out her phone, pulling you in by the arm and waving at the two boys to get in frame.

“hm? what for?” garroth questions, though still leans down, perching his head close to yours.

“ummm… cause we’re art buddies!” she shrugs, making room for laurance as he squeezes his face in the shot between our shoulders.

the four of you smile, and she clicks in a few pictures before letting the three of you go.

“those were cute. send me them, please!” you ask, leaning over her shoulder and gazing at the photos on her screen.

“me too.” the boys say in unison, and she joyfully nods at all of your requests.

“oh, here’s my number so you can send that to me,” he says, pulling a loose sheet of paper from his bag and scribbling down on it, ripping it in half and handing one to each of you.

garroth and laurance wave as your group splits apart by the doorway, leaving you walking with aphmau down the hall.

“where are you going for athletics, aph?”

“i think the off season kids are running on the track today. are you going?”

“actually, i was gonna practice volleyball today. katelyn invited me.”

“ooh, that’s fun! maybe i can skip out and watch…?” she wonders aloud, stopping in front of one of the girls' bathrooms. “oh hey, i need to use the restroom, mind waiting for me?”

you shrug, following her in and leisurely stopping in front of the mirror to check yourself out while she steps into one of the stalls. you notice her go in with her backpack, and you curiously stare at the closed stall door.

“oh, are you changing in here?”

“…yeah. i don’t really like changing in front of people, and all of the bathroom and shower stalls kept getting taken before i could get to them last week. that’s how i ended up alone with ivy and her group on friday—cause i had to wait to change.”

you hum softly in understanding.

“that makes sense. i usually face the wall when i change,” you purse your lips in thought. “if you want, we can start changing in here and walking to the gym together.”

you hear a sigh of relief as you hear  her clothes shuffle some more and the stall door unlock. she comes out in the athletics uniform, tying up her hair in a ponytail and kicking her backpack out onto the floor in front of her. 

“that would be awesome, you’re the best.”

you smile with a shrug, turning to the bathroom door when you hear it swing open. the smile immediately drops when you see ivy step in, her nose wrinkling at you as if she had just smelled something foul. her shorter friend–who you still haven’t caught the name of–silently walks in behind her, face still and emotionless as she looks the two of you up and down.

“well if it isn’t the two tramps trying to steal my man from me.”

you can’t help but scoff at her, stepping closer to aphmau and picking her backpack up, singing it up for her to grab. you feel a strange burning sensation in your chest, hands beginning to shake from anger. 

“i’m not even going to entertain your petty jealousy. maybe if you weren’t so pathetic about your crush you’d actually be dating garroth, but instead you’re harassing his friends the first second he makes any,” you snatch aphmau’s wrist, dragging her past the two girls before they could block your way out and turning to the taller girl as she stares at you in disgusted shock.

“stop messing with us. unlike you, i don’t make empty threats.”

aphmau yelps as her hand slips from yours, her head snapping back as ivy’s polished fingers wrap around her ponytail.

you whip around, using the momentum to slide your bag off your shoulders and swing it around into the girl’s head. she lets go of her teary eyed victim, carmine hair flying out of place as she stumbles back.

her friend doesn’t seem too loyal about the situation, stepping back to the wall as she watches everything unfold with dispassionate eyes.

you don’t pay much mind to her, vision red as you focus in on the girl clutching her head as she turns her head back to you with an equally furious look on her face. you pull aphmau out of the way, practically sliding her across the tile before digging your fingers into ivy’s uniform shirt and using your leg to kick her knees out from under her, taking you both down to the ground.

“bitch.”

she lets out an irritated shriek, her hands flying up and catching you right in the nose. you groan in pain, eyes tearing up and giving her an opening to rip at the strands of your hair, her nails raking and scratching your cheek.

“stop!” aphmau calls your name, sounding worried and shaken.

you ignore her pleading voice, too focused on the strange burning and flooding sensation in your nose. gritting your teeth, you use one hand to hold her wrist from ripping a chunk of your hair out, sitting above her as you wind your other hand back and deliver a harsh slap against her face. her hand lets go of you, instead covering her face as you ball your fist, punching her head and pulling at her hands to try and get a better hit in.

“ladies!” a stern feminine voice pierces the hallway, causing you to freeze in place.

you turn with wide eyes to see mrs.hwit marching towards you all, her expression full of disbelief and disappointment.

“just what do you think you’re doing?!”

you immediately regret what you did, glancing down at the girl. her cheek was red from where you slapped her and her round bright blue eyes were filled with tears as she manipulatively blinked up in innocence at the teacher. 

“mrs.hwit,” she blabbers, her demeanor completely different from just before. “aphmau attacked me again and got her friend to join in!”

“silence, miss veleno.” the stern gray-haired lady snaps, hands firmly placed on her hips. 

you clamber back from where you sat on top of her, chest heavy when you realize what you just did sets in. you watch ivy flinch at the harsh tone mrs.hwit gave her, clearly unexpecting for this to not go her way.

“but—“

“this is the second fight you’ve been involved in, ivy, and from the looks of it you did a good amount of beating on this young lady as well. for goodness sake, her nose is bleeding. don’t play innocent.”

your eyebrows pinch as your hand gingerly comes up to your nose, a soft moan of pain leaving your lips at the dull pain. you retract your hand to see red smeared across it. now that the adrenaline has begun to leave your body, you also become aware of how the blood has begun to drip down into your mouth and chin, leaving a gross metal taste against your tongue. your cheek burns and pulses where ivy dug into it with her nails.

“i should give all four of you detention. this is unacceptable.”

you clamber up to your feet at this, holding your hand against your nose as it begins to feel strangely… tight? against your skin? what was happening?

“it was just me and ivy who fought each other, they didn’t do anything,” your words tumble quickly from your lips, guilt building in your chest as you finally glance back at aphmau.

she’s staring at the ground, bottom lip pinched between her teeth and eyes closed over with tears.

mrs.hwit sighs, going silent for a moment as her mouth twists in disappointment. 

“then you and miss veleno can spend your time in detention after school today apologizing to each other. if this happens one more time it’ll be an in school suspension for a whole week!”

your heart drops, and you fight off the tears pricking your eyes at the woman’s harsh tone.

“yes ma’am…”

“now i want ivy to come with me right now to explain herself, and i will be talking to you,” she looks at you pointedly. “before your detention starts.”

“now alex and aphmau get on to athletics right now. and you… go to the nurse for your nose if it’s bad enough. come along miss veleno.”

ivy clambers up in shock, holding her cheek and turning to send you one last glare before following after mrs. hyria who was now furiously marching her way down the hall. you groan again, wiping away your nose and turning to look at aphmau again.

at the other end of the hall you catch that delinquent boy from the park—gene—staring right at you with an impressed smirk on his face. he silently laughs to himself before disappearing around the corner.

“um… what?” she glances down at the empty hall before turning back to you. “are you okay?”

her voice is shaky and stuttered, and you sigh as you wipe the blood from your face, nodding with a groan.

“yeah… sorry, i don’t know why i reacted like that.”

she shakes her head, waving her hands in disbelief.

“no i—i mean—“ she stutters, before sighing. “thank you for defending me. maybe she’ll leave us alone now?”

you turn to where ivy’s friend was before, only to see she must’ve quietly left the scene when you weren’t looking.

“i hope so. hey, go on to gym class. i don’t want you to get in trouble for sticking around. i’ll talk to you later.”

aphmau hesitates. “are you sure you’re okay?”

you nod, hunching over your bag and slinging it back over your shoulders.

“yep.”

she nods, glancing at you one last time before running off, the little charms on her backpack clinking along with her. you sigh, rolling your neck as you slowly make your way to the girls’ locker room.

your eyes tear up as you process what just happened, holding back a sob as you finally make it to the door, rushing inside.

you didn’t want to go to the nurse. you didn’t want to see anyone right now.

you let your backpack fall down onto the tile floor, stepping in front of one of the many sinks and leaning forward into the mirror to assess the damage done to your face. your eyebrows pinch together when you look back at your reflection, nothing really amiss except for the blood still smeared across your nose and your hair tangled and mussed.

grabbing a paper towel, you run it under the water and use it to wipe the blood from your face. your nose only had a slightly dull pain as you pressed your fingers against it, and what should’ve been deep welts on your cheek was only a slight red irritation. ivy had dug her hand into you, you should’ve looked a lot worse for wear than you did right now.

“…the hell?”

“oh, there you are! what are you doing?” katelyn questions, appearing in the mirror behind you and taking in your ruffled hair. “did you fall asleep in class or something?”

“uh, yeah... sorry,” you nervously laugh, glancing back at your unmarked face one more time before turning to her. “i’ll change super quick and be out there.”

she stares at you for a moment, frowning at your reddened eyelids and the glossy look in your eyes. she shrugs her shoulders after you don’t say anything further, and turns to walk back out of the locker room.

“alright, me and the ladies will be waiting for you on the court.”

☆

“got it!” you call, running up to the net and jumping, slamming your hand down onto the ball.

katelyn whistles as it lands in bounds in the back end of the other side of the court, concluding the last exercise of practice. the light cheers of teony and nicole–who was a close friend of katelyn’s–follow. everyone crowds together at the center of the court, clapping and putting their hands together.

“lady phoenixes on three!” katelyn announces.

“one, two, three, lady phoenixes!” everyone chants, before tiredly retreating back to the locker room.

“you’re pretty good!” nicole comes up to you, her dark copper hair falling out of her high ponytail.

she stood shorter than the rest of the team and even just slightly under your height. she played the libero position, and was pretty impressive with her diving and saving skills from what you saw. her eyes were a brilliant shade of gray, outlined by thick black lashes. freckles dot along her face like constellations, gathering mostly along her nose and cheekbones. 

“thanks,” you smile, your mood feeling much lighter than it did at the beginning of the period.

teony and katelyn follow up behind her, the former coming to your side and wrapping her arms around your shoulders. despite her hard work all practice, she still managed to have her fruit-scented perfume stuck to her skin, the sweet smell invading your nose.

“seriously, it’s too bad the season has already started,” the chestnut skinned girl rested her cheek against your head, her chime-sounding voice.

katelyn nods, humming in thought as she rests her hand against her hip.

“yeah… do you want to come to practices during the athletics period? if you keep improving i bet you could get on varsity next year.”

“seriously?” you ask in surprise.

“yeah, you were seriously crazy with your spikes. you should think about it, we’d love you on the team,” nicole pipes in.

“for sure, sounds like fun!”

“cool,” katelyn nods, nudging your arm with a smile. “i am kinda glad we don’t have after school practice today, i’m tired.”

“seriously, i’m gonna go home and take a nap,” teony sighs lightly, releasing you from her embrace and stretching out her limbs.

the four of you gather your things in the locker room, but the girls turn to you in confusion when you turn to walk further into the school instead of going along with them to the exit.

“hey, where are you going?”

“oh, uh… i forgot something in one of the classrooms. i’ll catch you guys later.”

teony makes a small noise as if she has remembered something important, dashing back to you and pulling her phone out. she hands it to you, the sunflower charm attached to the pink phone dangling in the air.

“here, put your number in and i’ll share it with kate and nicki, okay?”

“oh, sure!” you smile, quickly tapping in your contact into the cheery girl’s list.

after you finish she waves goodbye, walking off with the other two out the doors.

that’s if i still have a phone after i get back home today.

you find the doors to detention, thankfully not finding anyone you know in the hallways on the way like aphmau had just days before. you step inside, immediately landing your eyes on the girl you had taken down in the hall just about an hour earlier.

her eyes dart to yours, mouth curling up as she glares at you. any sorrow you might’ve felt for her earlier leaves at her ugly expression. you stare her down, tongue rolling against the inside of your teeth as you sit as far from her as possible. you’re not sure what face you’re making back, but she’s the first to break eye contact, face faltering into a peculiar look.

before you can take a seat, the clicking of mrs.hyria’s shoes makes her presence known in the room. you turn around, getting a ‘come hither’ finger wave from the woman instead of words.

great. 

you two quietly make it into the hall, even going as far as turning the next corner so you wouldn’t be eavesdropped on.

“now before you go explaining yourself,” she starts, taking a heavy breath. the maternal aura she gives off sends a lump straight into your throat, especially in this situation. “you know my daughter is lucinda.”

you look up at her with confused eyes, nodding slowly at her words.

“now, i’m not one to necessarily take sides in these situations. however, from what i’ve seen, and from what i’ve heard from lucinda and her friends, i can tell you’re a good girl,” her voice lowers to a whisper. “and i wasn’t born yesterday. i know when girls are being sneaky.”

she crosses her arms, lifting her reading glasses off her head and readjusting them in her hair.

“next time something like this happens… i can promise you telling an adult will end up much better for you than handling it yourself. do you understand what i’m saying?”

“yes ma’am…”

she opens her mouth to continue, but leans forward with a confused hum.

“did you go to the nurse earlier?”

“i—no ma’am.”

one of her hands gingerly touches your cheek, as well as brushing along your nose and under your eyes.

“strange… no swelling? not even a scratch mark? it looked like she broke your nose earlier.”

you blink. so it wasn’t just your imagination.

“i guess it looked worse than it was.”

“now, what’s happening?”

you gulp, looking nervously around at the hall for any eavesdroppers.

“um… just petty drama that aphmau and i were dragged into. it’s really ridiculous.”

“boys?”

you sigh.

“yeah. jealousy, and not on our part.”

she hums, rolling her eyes.

“but, mrs.hwit?”

“yes…?”

“i—“ you hesitate, stuttering in your words. “aphmau and i don’t want to be known for… you know, all of this in our first week. can you not get ivy in any more trouble for this?”

“what?”

“i mean… if she does anything else i will definitely say something. but if she knows i said something now i’m afraid words will get passed around school no matter how it plays out,” you clear your throat. “and i have a feeling she won’t pull something like that again.”

her lips flatten against each other, and she reaches up a finger to rub one of her arched, thin eyebrows with a deep exhale from her nose.

“alright, i understand where you’re coming from. i’ll sweep it under the rug this time, but if you get into another fight you will also be in very deep trouble.”

“yes ma’am, thank you.”

“alright, now go do your homework or something,” she dismisses you, exasperatedly waving her hands for you to move along. “i’ll see you tomorrow in class, dear.”

☆

“why on earth did i get a call from the school saying you were in a fight?” mom stands waiting for you in the doorway, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

you release a tense sigh, dropping your bag onto the floor of the entryway.

“because i got in a fight.”

“did you win?” your dad calls from the living room.

“yep.”

“good.”

your mom throws up her hands in utter disbelief, turning her head to glare at him through the doorway as he sits in the living room.

“what? you know she wouldn’t have done that if she didn’t have a good reason.”

she crosses her arms, turning to look back at you. a second passes before she makes a confused face, stepping closer to you and inspecting you with her hands on your shoulders.

“well the school made it sound bad, but you don’t look like she got a single hit on you.”

“yeah well, she did. it was the strangest thing, actually. my nose bled everywhere and she scratched me really badly on my cheek, but it almost immediately healed up… like nothing happened at all. isn’t that weird? even the teacher thought my nose was broken, but i’m fine.”

she freezes, back straightening as she looks down at you with a frighteningly strange look on her face. was it almost… horror? you realize that whatever your dad was tinkering with in the living room had also gone eerily quiet, as you look up at your mom with equally widened eyes.

“…what? why are you looking at me like that?”

she seemingly snaps out of it shaking her head.

“oh no, that is weird. it must’ve looked worse than it actually was. you’ve always had a… really great immune system.”

“yeah, i guess.” you mutter.

she suddenly clears her throat, retreating further back into the house.

“so what was the fight about?”

you sigh, repressing a groan as you prepare yourself to explain everything all over again. when you finish, your mom is staring at you dumbfoundedly.

“why didn’t you tell me this?”

“cause it’s so dumb that i didn’t think it would even get to this point. and by the second week, no less.”

she raises her eyebrows, nodding.

“yeah. this story makes this ivy girl sound really silly.”

“that’s what i’m saying,” you toss your arms up, before beginning to retreat upstairs for a much-needed shower.

“well next time—“

“tell an adult. i will.”

“or just beat them up worse than last time.” your dad hollers after you.

“do not do that!”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own

tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @thenyxsky (sry i forgot to tag you last time ><)

[1tad0ri]

OKAY hey girl lemme j say how invested in this blog i am going to be . okay . so uh yuuji being the horny shit he is and texting you late at night to come to his room n you barely get through the door b4 he’s grabbing at you n telling you how much he missed your body n how he was *thinking* of you before n j URGH lemme get dat pls 🤲🤲

warning: body worship, eating out

itadori yuuji x fem!reader

AHDHSJJS FIRST OF ALL THANK YOUUU that’s so sweet!!! <3 second of all, girl i gotchu

“for fuck’s sake.” the shuffle of your sneakers along the corridor was almost too loud in the otherwise quiet space, phone screen lit up and reflecting back at you as you scrolled through the text messages that had gotten you into this situation in the first place.

one peaceful night was what you wanted. one goddamn full night’s rest. oh... but it was so hard to ignore him, no matter what time he texted you.

the amount of times you wanted to pretend to be asleep was outshone by the fact that you always wanted to talk to yuuji. eccentric and playful, he hit all the points on your ‘boyfriend checklist.’

arriving in front of his door, you sighed, clicking your phone screen off and stuffing the device into your back pocket—you hoped that he hadn’t asked you to come over to play uno at 2 a.m. again. the “can you please come over?” text had been fairly ominous, but truthfully you wouldn’t mind just cuddling up to him and falling asleep if he wanted.

you twisted the doorknob—he always left his room unlocked like a dummy (a cute dummy) and by this point you knew to spare yourself the knocking, knowing a reply of “it’s open!” would just reach you from inside.

the door creaked open under a single push and you stepped inside the familiar room, the movement already rehearsed in your mind during the walk from your dorm over to his.

“yuuji, what do you-”

heavy lips against the corner of your mouth interrupted you when someone pulled you into their chest—they’d missed your own lips in their haste but your mouth fell open in shock all the same, you squeaking as you stumbled into their arms, trying to find something to grab ahold of. your hands found warm shoulders to dig into as your regained your balance and you barely registered the click of the door shut behind you.

steady now, you untangled yourself from the person, pulling back to find yuuji staring back at you—of course it was him, this was his room after all.

he was already diving back into your lips before you could speak, and you know what? you let him. his mouth was hot when it pressed to yours and when his hand on your back pushed your waist closer to him and you felt the nudge of something hard against your leg, you decided he could do whatever he wanted to you at that point.

your arms travelled up from his shoulders to loop around his neck properly and he held you against him, so sweet and boyish when his tongue hungrily nudged between your lips, asking for entrance.

yuuji tilted his head back from yours enough to speak once he’d had his fill of shoving his tongue down your throat, hands wandering down to rub at you through your shorts. “do you know how long i’ve been thinking about this?” his voice was husky, eyes glazed over—he was lost to his desires already.

his fingers cupped your mound, shoving the pads of them against your cunt through the fabric, making you whine. “fuck, you’re so perfect.” a quick kiss to your lips. “always so much better than what i imagine.” another kiss, but this time, when he tried to pull away, you tugged him back.

you ground down on his fingers, nipping at his lips, legs shaking. “yuuji, h-harder.” he did as he was told, pressing along your underside blindly until he found your clit, knowing it was the right spot when you let out a surprised, “oh—”

then his hands were back on your sides (despite how much he loved the feeling of you melting against his chest from barely anything at all, the heat radiating from your pussy evident even without him directly touching it) and when he whispered, “jump,” into your ear, you did as you were told, his arms catching you easily and hoisting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your cores together. once again, you were thanking the universe for blessing you with such a strong boyfriend.

yuuji was pushing his face into your neck, breathing you in, babbling, tasting the skin—everything. “i’ve missed you. missed you so, so much.” his lips tickled, leaving behind a trail of fire and goosebumps in their wake, and you were holding onto him for dear life—it was as though sometimes he didn’t realize what he did to you (actually, you were sure that was the case now that you thought about it). he was always so needy, just a few hours apart seeming to drive him wild. it was flattering and you also maybe found it a little more hot than you probably should.

“couldn’t cum without you. mmm... needed your pretty pussy.” fuck. he just kept talking and talking, and the thought of him laying on his bed, frustrated, cock gripped in his palm as he fantasized about you only a few doors down was filling your mind, your wild imagination going straight to the building heat in your body.

from this angle, your head was just a little above his and you pushed lightly on the back of his neck to bury his face further into you, breath hitching when he bit at your collarbone. “don’t worry, i’m here now, baby. you can do whatever you want,” you cooed, finding it hard to keep your voice steady.

his movements paused for a moment, only his warm breath continuing to fan against you, and then he looked up, eyes wide. “really?”

leaning down to peck his nose, you swallowed thickly at the look in his eyes, nodding. “really.”

your head spun when he immediately turned on his heels away from the door and instead walked further into the room, dropping you onto the bed not far away. you bounced when you landed on the soft surface and tried to sit up, but yuuji was already crawling between your legs, hands planted on the covers as he leaned up to kiss you, gently pushing you to lay down. you allowed yourself to fall completely back, heart beating as you stared at the ceiling. yeah, you had ended up on his bed like you thought you were going to but... it seemed like your plans of cuddling had gone completely out the window.

a tug at your shorts had you glancing downwards, seeing that he had wasted no time settling in front of you, nipping at your thighs and tugging at your bottoms. yuuji met your burning gaze when he felt it on him, his lips attached to your upper thigh—it was a pretty sight, the blooming reds resulting from none other than your own handiwork on his mouth. his eyes were wide and lustful—cute yet making your stomach do flips as only he could.

“let me taste you, please.” hoarse voice begging, he was already running a finger close to your still-covered crotch, blinking up at you and waiting for permission. he was desperate, eyes flicking down momentarily to work your shorts down just over your hip bones as he placed a lopsided kiss to your clit through them. his eyes were back on yours. “can i? you want to cum on my tongue, don’t you? you’re going to let me tongue fuck you, yeah?”

fuck, fuck, fuck. “oh my god,” you whispered, taking in his wide blown pupils. you frantically nodded at his words, if only to shut him up before you came from that.

yuuji grinned and you were absolutely done with him because it was the same cheesy smile he always gave you and, quite frankly, it wasn’t fair if he was doing it while slick dripped out of you and onto his fingers holding your underwear to the side. you wanted to hate him for driving you wild by just being him, but it turns out you were incapable of that as well.

he buried his face in your clothed cunt, pressing light kisses to it and murmuring praise about how you were so perfect, fingers working to blindly pull your bottoms down. you helped him by shimming out of them and kicking them off to the side (shoes tumbling off when you pressed them off at the heel—you’d also pulled your phone out of your pocket and chucked it somewhere further up the bed for safe keeping in a single moment of clarity), spreading your legs for him to lean down between again, knees bent and feet planted firmly on the bed.

he took a moment to admire your pussy, the dripping lips fully on display before him, and for once he was quiet, nearly drooling.

“yuu-”

his tongue was on the folds and licking a stripe up, your thighs closing in to squeeze his head closer in surprise and you pulling on his hair, your grip so strong you were almost afraid of some of the strands coming loose (or you would be if you could think straight that is).

his hands locked around your thighs and he slid you closer to him, licking and sucking as though he were starved. you yelped and clung to the bed sheets as he dragged you closer, completely caught off guard by everything and legs burning as they bounced from the onslaught at your core. “yuuji-”

“such a good girl, opening yourself up to me.” he kissed your clit, lips so soft, and humming praise. “love it when you spread open for me. fuck, love it so much, always thinking about it.”

when yuuji’s tongue poked at your heat and then wiggled its way past the entrance, slipping in with little resistance from your wet hole, curses and whines fell from your lips. he worked the muscle in and out of you, curling it perfectly against your walls to hit the weak spots inside of you before he removed it to speak again, caught up in his own thoughts, saying anything that came to mind. his lack of filter had you pressing your fingers into the back of his head with a death grip, mind reeling.

“you’re perfect, so perfect. i love this pretty pussy.” yuuji flattened his tongue against your slit, words vibrating into you. “gonna make you cum from just my tongue. going to make this pretty pussy cum from just my tongue.” and that he did. if there was anything yuuji was, it was someone who could deliver on his promises. “it’s what my pretty baby deserves.”

you don’t know how long it took him, whether it be a few short minutes or long hours that had flashed by (you had your bet on the former considering you were already ready to cum for him as soon as he’d set to work kissing and grinding against you as soon as you’d walked in the door, although you truthfully wouldn’t be surprised at either option), but yuuji hadn’t let up once on you until you were coming undone all over his tongue, too fucked out of your mind to try to last any longer. his tongue just kept going, sliding along your folds to take up everything, relishing the taste of your jucies.

your legs were jumping at the feeling, chest heaving, and you tugged at his hair to pull him up—it was so good, yet almost too much—

when he finally emerged, lower half of his face covered in slick, he was on you again, pinning you to the mattress and kissing you—he’d quickly swiped the back of his hand across his face so it wasn’t too wet, but you could still taste yourself on his tongue, mumbling around him at the taste.

“yuuji—”

even though he had finally left your cunt alone, you still felt overwhelmed as his hands drew shapes over your skin, tracing up your sides and running over your curves. “perfect—fuck—you’re so perfect. your body is perfect, perfect, perfect. want you so baddd.”

you whimpered into his mouth, unable to reply in any other way. yuuji was nuzzling his face against yours, lips landing everywhere and no where at once. “you tasted so good,” he practically moaned at the memory. he licked his lips to taste you all over again and you could feel the wetness against the side of your mouth when he did so, your faces pressed so close together you could feel every little pull of his facial muscles.

“yuuji— ugh, fuck.” you shoved your hand in front of his mouth to stop him for a moment, his latest kiss landing on your palm and still somehow making you shiver.

his eyes were wide as he blinked down at you, hands stilled on your stomach. “babe?” his voice was muffled around your hand. “did i... did i do something wrong?”

“wha- yuuji, what? baby, no, of course not.” he let you pull him to rest on your chest and you stroked his hair soothingly as he tried to peer up at you, straining his neck. “you did so well. made me cum so well.” you kissed his forehead and he squeezed one eye closed when you did so, melting at the feeling. “i just think it’s time to help you out a little, hm?”

you cut off the protest he was surely about to make about how getting you off was enough for him when your leg purposefully brushed against the front of him, his dick solid on you even under the layers. he groaned and buried his face further into your chest. the opening and closing of his lips in silent pants rubbed on your breasts still hidden under your t-shirt—you didn’t even think he was aware of it, but you sure were—and he nodded meekly in reply when you mumbled out a quiet, “okay, baby?” into his hair.

[raibebe]

Of needles and seduction

Genre: Fluff and smut Words: 15.2k Prompt: Johnny tattoo shop AU featuring best friends Yangyang and Jaemin Warnings: contains smut, Daddy-kink, size-kink, mentions of mirror-sex

A/N: This is very self-indulgent, I’m sorry. While I do have piercings myself, I know next to nothing about tattoos, so I’m sorry if anything is inaccurate. Also I don’t advise what some characters in this are doing for yourself. Just a quick special thanks to @burtonized​ who has listened to me ramble about this story and Johnny and helped me write this by giving me ideas and support. Thank you darling! This fic is a beast, I have never written anything this long,it’s insane. If smut isn’t for you, you can stop reading after the phone call and still have a pretty decent story. If you feel like, you’ve seen this post before, you might have. I deleted the original one because tumblr decided to delete it from the tags.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked for what you felt was the tenth time in the past five minutes. “It’s going to be fine. The shop is clean and sanitary,” your friend Yangyang groaned while running his hands through his messy, blonde hair. It was getting way too long, hanging low into his eyes. “I’m just saying that this doesn’t seem like a safe place,” you mumbled but followed your hyper friend through a more than dubious looking side street of Itaewon. “Jaemin got his piercings done in the same shop and those healed just fine, stop being a baby,” the blonde said while rolling his eyes. He quickly checked his phone for the address of the (probably illegal) piercing and tattoo shop and took a sharp turn into an even shadier looking street. “I still don’t get while you need me to come with you when you want to get your nipples pierced for god knows what of a stupid reason.” “It’s easy,” Yangyang grinned at you, “Ten said I wouldn’t dare to do it. And I’m going to prove him wrong and you’re going to document the progress.” “Do you ever listen to yourself talk? You’re literally paying someone to stab you into your nipples to shove a piece of metal through it just to prove a point.” “It’s just one nipple though.” “How does that make it any better, Yangyang?” You deadpanned. Your friend groaned again. “I knew I should have taken Guanheng with me. He would have been supportive.” “He would also be supportive of getting ‘I love Tacos’ tattooed on your ass.” “He would,” Yangyang agreed with an exaggerated dreamy look on his face. “What a madlad.”

You sighed but couldn’t help smiling at his antics. You had befriended the hyper exchange student when you had been assigned to be partners for a group project for your mandarin class. Yangyang had only taken the class for extra credit and easy good grades while you were struggling like crazy and had seriously questioned all your life choices that had let to you taking the class. (But mostly you regretted listening to Renjun who had convinced you it would be an easy class.) The group project turned out to be rather easy when you had a native speaker as your partner and you had become fond of the younger student, staying in touch with him and helping him find his way around the big campus. If you had known that he was a package deal with a bunch of other equally hyper and questionably crazy exchange students, you might have thought a little longer about keeping in touch after the project was over. But who were you kidding, the other boys and Yangyang were incredibly dear to you and if Kun had his regular morning coffee, the others weren’t even that chaotic.

“That’s it,” Yangyang suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a small beat up looking wooden door that looked like it was ready to fall out of the doorway any second. But a little green neon sign that hang next to it flashed the word “open” onto the street indicating that a shop must be hiding behind it. Your arguably best friend quickly grabbed your hand as if he had been sensing that you were about to complain again and dragged you into the shop. A little bell jingled quietly when Yangyang closed the door behind you two. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves (hell you weren’t even the one to get stabbed with a needle) and took a look around the small room. It was small and poorly lit and every free space on the walls was plastered with drawings and photos of both freshly done and healed tattoos. You had to admit that whoever had done those had done a good job, they looked really neat. You guessed that at least two artists must be working in the shop. A good portion of the art were very neat black and white works (some looking freakishly realistic) while others were very vibrant and artistic.

With a confident bounce in his step, Yangyang went up to the counter to a man with wild bubblegum pink hair wearing a black tank top that showed off the ink on his arms and torso, all kept in black except for a deep red rose on the side of his neck. His eyes were lined with dark eyeliner, making them seem like dark bottomless orbs, and they were fixed to the screen of a laptop that was covered in stickers that were a wild mixture of cute characters and various rock and hip-hop bands. “And what brings you here?” The man asked with a surprisingly deep voice, turning his head towards your friend. “A friend of mine told me I could get pierced here,” Yangyang spoke, his hands fumbling with the loose threads of his sweater. “And if that was the case, what would you want to get pierced?” “My nipple.” At that the other man raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows. “People usually start off with getting an earring or something.” “Go hard or go home,” Yangyang grinned, making the other man snort. “If you have 70.000 Won in cash, I can look if one of the piercers is free.” When your friend got out his worn wallet and put a couple of bills onto the counter, the other man smiled for the first time. It didn’t quite fit his whole dark punk aesthetic but you couldn’t deny that he was really good looking.

“Don’t run away now kiddo, I’ll see if someone is free,” he grinned, “I’m Taeyong by the way.” When he disappeared behind a curtain made out of pearls into the back, Yangyang turned towards you with the biggest smile on his face. “I told you it was going to be fine.” You just hummed nonchalantly, still not entirely supportive of the whole idea. “One of the guys is ready in a bit,” Taeyong said when he came back to the main room. “Are you getting anything?” He asked, looking at you. “Oh no, she’s a scaredy-cat, just here for moral support and to document that I actually did it,” your friend answered for you. Your face immediately heated up under the intense gaze of the pink haired tattoo artist. “Too bad,” he just shrugged. “So technically you need to sign stuff for legal issues and whatnot. But since this place doesn’t exactly exist on records, we’re skipping that part. You’re not on drugs or any meds, right?” “I’m not,” Yangyang shook his head, making his hair flop back into his face. “Any issues with fainting or other medical conditions?”   “Nope.”   “Great. Had a good meal before coming here?” “I had breakfast,” Yangyang shrugged. “You had a slice of cold pizza from yesterday,” you groaned. “That I ate in the morning, therefore it’s breakfast,” he argued. “Well in that case,” Taeyong interrupted your bickering and threw a granola bar into Yangyang’s hands, “Eat that and let your girlfriend treat you to some proper food afterwards.” Before the blonde could deny anything, you had already opened your mouth to tell the other man that in fact you weren’t dating.

“Sure, sorry for assuming,” he shrugged and sat back behind the counter, taking out an iPad and began drawing something, probably a tattoo design. “Nervous yet?” You asked Yangyang who was uncharacteristically quiet while munching on the granola bar. “Shit, I’m really doing this,” he replied, exhaling shakily. “You don’t actually have to, Yangyang,” you tried to comfort him. “And let Ten just get away like that? No way. I am doing this. I’m not his little baby Yangyang anymore,” he said like the stubborn child he was. You could just sigh and roll your eyes at him. “He might have just been joking, you know?” “One does not simply challenge Liu Yangyang like that and not expect consequences.” “Kun is going to actually flip and pop a vein,” you tried to reason with your friend for a last time. Kun was doing a lot of coordination work for the exchange students with a Chinese background and had taken on almost a fatherly role for the younger students that hadn’t been in Korea for long. And even though Ten wasn’t even that much younger than Kun, he almost lost his otherwise calm composure when the Thai boy had announced that he successfully had pierced his ear by himself yet again after he had convinced a poor med student to smuggle some equipment for him. And from there the situation had somehow escalated into Ten daring Yangyang to get a nipple piercing. “Well he can’t do anything about it once it’s done. We’ll just make sure he’s with someone who can call an ambulance if he ends up having an aneurism.”

“Someone still wants their nipple pierced?” A new voice interrupted your conversation and a tall man with dark inky hair came into the room, making the pearls of the curtain clink against each other. One side of his head was shaved while the longer hair on the other side framed his handsome face beautifully. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt paired with ripped jeans with almost as many holes as there was fabric that hugged his long legs perfectly, showing that he had also ink on his legs. From his lobe dangled a little silver chain and of course his arms were covered in intricate designs, one arm strictly black ink while the other sported some colorful pieces as well. In the center of his plush lower lip sat a black ring and just beneath his left eye two little silver balls were reflecting the low light. You couldn’t deny that the man looked absolutely stunning despite his unusual appearance.

“Yes, me,” Yangyang eagerly answered the man’s question and walked towards him, tugging you with him. “Too bad,” the piercer grinned cheekily and winked in your direction, making your heart flutter in your chest and heat rise to your face, before he extended a big hand to shake Yangyang’s much smaller one. “I’m Johnny,” he introduced himself before leading you both into a smaller room in the back with a simple black padded bench in the middle of the room and a desk tucked into a corner. The walls were plastered with art and photos like the main room, showing that Johnny apparently was able to pull off a bunch of different tattoo styles. He seemed to have a thing for florals and roses though. The only free space was taken up by a full body mirror at the opposite wall. Johnny sat down on the little stool that was standing by the desk and motioned for Yangyang to sit on the bench while you sat down in the only other chair in the room, made of worn looking black leather.

“Let me see your chest before we start this whole thing,” Johnny spoke to your friend after he had grabbed a pair of silver framed glasses that sat low on his elegant nose and slipped on a fresh pair of black gloves. With only slightly trembling hands, Yangyang pulled his sweater over his head, keeping his hands buried in the fabric. “Looks good to me. Left or right one?” “Ehrm, I haven’t really thought about it,” he confessed. Johnny chuckled. “Spontaneous decision to get your nipple pierced?” “He does it to prove a point to a friend,” you supplied before Yangyang had the chance to answer. “Seems like a valid reason,” the tattoo artist grinned, “You play guitar or anything where the strap could irritate the new piercing?” “Just the violin,” Yangyang supplied, demonstrating how he would hold his instrument. “Then I’d suggest we go for the left one,” Johnny concluded, grabbing a bunch of stuff he needed. “Is it going to hurt badly?” “No idea, mine aren’t pierced.” “The first one is fine,” another voice chimed into the conversation and a pink mess of hair appeared in the doorway. “My client is there and Jaehyun isn’t back from his break yet, have an open ear for the door.” Johnny just hummed but it seemed enough to satisfy Taeyong who disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.

“You ready?” Johnny asked one last time. Yangyang took a deep but shaky breath and nodded. “You better film this so Ten knows it’s real,” he said, holding out his phone towards you. Rolling your eyes, you got up from your actually really comfortable chair and took the phone from your best friend’s hands while Johnny disinfected Yangyang’s nipple and drew two little circles where the bar would go through it before grabbing a small mirror to show him. “Let’s do this,” your best friend nodded and you pressed record. “It’ll be quick,” Johnny promised, disinfecting one last time before he grabbed a pair of tongs to hold the nipple in place and freed a needle from a foil package. “I’ll count to three and then I’ll start, alright?” “A-Alright.” “Last time to chicken out.” “No, I’m doing this,” Yangyang gritted out, closing his eyes. After that everything happened really fast: Johnny counted to three and steadily pushed the needle through Yangyang’s nipple, who bit his lip hard. He then let the needle dangle from the nipple while freeing a little barbell from another foil package to insert it through the canal he just had made. “And that’s it,” he announced when he secured the little balls on either side of the barbell. You ended the recording when Yangyang left out the breath he had been holding in. “Now no sports, especially no swimming or sexual activities for a while. Clean it well and don’t worry if it gets sore, that’s normal. It can take a while to heal, so be patient and don’t let it get infected. You can get a smaller barbell or a ring once it’s healed. Just come back to get it changed to be safe.” “Fuck I really did that,” Yangyang cursed and looked down to his chest, “I think I need a minute before I can get up.”

“Take your time, I don’t have any clients for another half an hour,” Johnny reassured him, putting the used materials into the trash. “Just please don’t vomit all over the floor or hit your head while fainting.” “That has happened before?” You asked, eyes wide. “Not on me but it’s not unheard of. You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, turning towards you. His silver framed glasses had slid down his nose a little and you couldn’t deny that the man looked really hot, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “She’s too scared,” Yangyang teased. He couldn’t feel too bad if he still could do that then. “Too bad, I think you would really suit a little conch or something,” the piercer motioned around his own ear to indicate what piercing he meant. “A conch?” You asked, turning towards the mirror to try to imagine it. “Wait let me show you.” Johnny quickly got up to search through the drawers of his desk before he pulled out a little box with a bunch of jewelry, grabbing a small hoop. He stood behind you in front of the mirror. “Hold still for me,” he breathed and bend down to push your hair behind your ear before he carefully put the fake piercing in place. For a moment you could swear that time had stopped. You felt his breath fanning over your skin gently and could smell the intoxicating smell of his cologne. You were so close to each other, you were sure that if you turned your head, your noses would brush against each other. But before you could do anything stupid, Johnny pulled back and gently turned your head so you could see the little silver ring. “I think I could put an even smaller one if you wanted,” he said, watching you through the mirror with an intense gaze from his dark eyes. “I’ve never thought about getting a piercing,” you admitted shyly. While you did get your lobes pierced when you were a child, you never thought of it much. “It looks good. Not so much like daddy’s good girl anymore,” the piercer grinned. You almost choked on air when the words left his plush lips, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

“How much?” “For you I’ll do it for free, darling,” he grinned, running a hand through his thick dark hair, making his muscles shift beneath his inked skin. While your brain was still short-circuiting from the nickname, Yangyang seemed to be back to 100%, destroying whatever the atmosphere between you and the tattoo artist just was. “Are you really going to say no to a free piercing, dude?” You could just groan and roll your eyes at your best friend. “Stop calling me dude, Yangyang.” “Only if you get that piercing.” “That’s blackmailing.” “Just do it, it won’t even hurt right?” “It’s just a bit of pressure,” Johnny assured you, his lips curled into a smile. “I can always take it out if I don’t end up liking it,” you thought out aloud. “The beauty of temporary body modifications,” Johnny sighed before he stepped in front of you to take the fake piercing off again. With his face so close to yours again, your eyes traveled over the little silver balls beneath his left eye, over his elegant nose down to the black ring in his lower lip and you briefly wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. “So what will it be?” You looked over to your best friend who had put his hoodie back on and nodded his head enthusiastically, making his fluffy hair flop into his eyes. He really needed a haircut.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you decided. “That’s what I like to hear,” Johnny grinned and moved to get his stuff ready. “Need me to hold your hand?” Yangyang grinned when you took his place on the bench. “I wouldn’t want to contaminate you with girl germs,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some girl germs if they’re coming from such a pretty girl,” Johnny cut in when he rolled back over on his stool, his glasses pushed back up his nose again. You couldn’t even fight the heat that crept onto your face at his words, he sure could feel it radiating off your cheeks from where his gloved hands were touching your skin. “I’ll do it where I placed the fake one, just with a smaller ring, alright?” He spoke softly when he disinfected your ear. You could just nod, anxiety taking over, making your heart race and skin prickle. When you heard the plastic bag that held the sterile needle rip, you pressed your eyes shut and balled your hands to fists. “Take a deep breath for me, doll,” Johnny mumbled, gently caressing your skin where he had grabbed your face to stabilize you. “In and out.” You shakily did as he asked you, his low voice comforting and calming your anxiety a lot. “Now you breathe in and let me count to three, then you gently release that breath. Can you do that for me, darling?” “Yeah,” you breathed, eyes still closed so you missed the soft smile on Johnny’s face. “Alright, deep breath in. One, two, three,” the pain of the needle piercing through your skin made you clench your fists harder, “And breathe out.” You tried your best to release the breath evenly until the pressure of the needle was just a low thudding. “You’re doing great, darling,” the handsome piercer reassured you, “I’ll just push the ring through and we’re all done here. Take another breath for me.” This time the feeling wasn’t as painful, just a really uncomfortable feeling of pressure. “All done, pretty,” Johnny concluded, clicking the ring closed. “Open your eyes.”

When you did open your eyes again, he held the little hand mirror from before in his still gloved hands so you could see the little ring that sat against your ear now. The skin was a bright red and you could feel your pulse throb around the metal but it actually fit the shape of your ear really nicely. “Thank you,” you smiled at Johnny. “It’s been a pleasure,” he winked before gathering the used needle and tissues to throw them away. “Take good care of it and try to not sleep on that side for a couple of nights and it will be healed in no time.” “Let’s go home, big baby,” Yangyang chirped in, already on his feet to leave the room. “I’m starving.” “There’s a good ramen shop a little up the street, not too expensive either,” Johnny recommended.

“Thanks for the piercings, man,” your best friend thanked the artist when he took you back to the main room. “No big deal,” Johnny shrugged and sat down where Taeyong had sat before, putting his long legs up on the counter. “Well, have a nice day, maybe we’ll come back for more some time,” Yangyang grinned, opening the door to leave the shop. “Oh I’m sure you will,” the artist replied, locking eyes with you before winking. “Take good care of that piercing, doll. You know where you have to come to if you want more.” You nodded shyly before bowing to the man. “Thank you, Johnny.” “I’ll see you again,” it wasn’t a question. Somehow you and him both knew that this wouldn’t be the last time you would step into the shady tattoo shop.

The next time that you found yourself in the shady streets of Itaewon came faster than you had thought. This time you were accompanying Jaemin to his tattoo appointment after Jeno had ditched him because he had to take over a shift at the cat café he worked at. (That poor boy had to take antihistamines before every shift because of his allergies but couldn’t resist the charm of the kittens.)   “You’re a lifesaver seriously,” the hyper boy repeated while jumping up and down excitedly, “Sitting still for hours on end is really so boring if you have no one to talk to.” “Can’t you talk to your artist?” You asked confused. “He threatened to stab me with the tattoo gun the last time when I was trying to talk to him while he worked,” Jaemin pouted. You could only imagine how irritating Jaemin and his moods could be to someone who wasn’t used to him. Ever since he had decided that he wanted to commit to what he had dubbed a soft punk look, he had been going to the shop somewhat regularly to start a collection of tattoos and piercings. It had started a year ago when he first had dyed his hair to a light blue color. Shortly after that he had first gotten his ears and then his nose pierced. The two lip rings in his lower lip were his newest addition as far as piercings went. The tattoos came a little later. After much consideration he had made the decision to start a floral piece on his arm, the center would be a hummingbird, all with black ink for now.

After a little bit of Instagram stalking you had easily identified the intricate flowers that adored Jaemin’s upper arm as Johnny’s work and the thought of seeing the handsome tattoo artist again had made your heart beat faster in your chest. Not that Jaemin needed to know that you weren’t coming with him for his sake but rather because of your desire to see the dark haired flirty man again.   You had been thinking about his dark eyes behind his silver framed glasses and how he scrunched his eyebrows when he was concentrating a lot for the last weeks. (Not that you had replayed the video of him piercing Yangyang an unhealthy amount of times or anything…) Every time you took care of your new piercing it reminded you of how his fingers felt on your skin and how his deep voice had gently guided you through everything. Not to forget how easily the pet names had rolled from his lips. And oh god his lips… His Instagram account featured a good amount of pictures of himself both casual and while working and the way his plush lips would curl into a confident smirk did things to your heart. His latest update had been the actual death of yours though. It had shown the new tattoo he had gotten recently: It was an intricate eagle that spread over his muscled chest, the feathers of the wings blending seamlessly into the other art covering his strong shoulders and biceps. Did you already mention that he was freaking shirtless in the picture? And that he was hiding a seriously ripped body beneath the wide T-Shirt he wore the last time you were at the shop? So to say that your thoughts had started to spiral after seeing that post was a little understated.

You still felt a little uneasy when you followed Jaemin through the backstreets of Itaewon but when the shabby door with the neon green ‘open’ sign came in sight, you felt the feeling disappear, only for it to be replaced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Jaemin grinned widely when he pushed the door open and his good mood was always infectious, a smile creeping on your lips. This time a new man sat at the counter, lazily rocking back and forth on the chair with his phone in his hand. His hair was dark and hung into his eyes and he wore a dark, long sleeved hoodie, so you couldn’t see if he had as many tattoos as his colleagues but if the tattoos on his hands and neck were any indication, he must be pretty covered as well. You recognized the rose on the back of his hand from one of Johnny’s Instagram posts. When the man looked up, you saw that he didn’t only have tattoos but piercings as well: In his lower lip sat two rings right next to each other, a ring dangled from his nose and two little silver balls sat in the hollows of his dimples that showed when he smiled at Jaemin. “Back for more?” He asked with a deep, rumbling voice and got up to greet Jaemin properly, bumping their shoulders together. “Got an appointment with Johnny for my sleeve,” the blue haired boy replied. “I see the snake bites healed well.” “Done by the best piercer of the shop.” “You know it,” the man laughed, throwing an arm around Jaemin. “Brought your girlfriend?” “I’m just a friend,” you quickly corrected the piercer. (Why couldn’t you just platonically join a friend for his tattoo session?) “Alright, just a friend, I’m Jaehyun. Johnny should be ready by now. You know the way?” Jaemin nodded and pulled you with him to Johnny’s room.

When Jaemin pulled the curtain to the room open, you weren’t prepared for what you were seeing: Johnny was standing in front of the full length mirror with his black button up shirt unbuttoned, applying cream to his still tender looking eagle tattoo on his chest, making his beautiful sunkissed skin glisten. “You’re early, Jaem,” he spoke. “Jaehyun said you were already ready,” the blue haired boy shrugged and plopped down onto the black bench. “Oh you brought company,” Johnny turned around when he spotted you and grinned, “I knew you’d come back, doll. How’s your piercing healing?” You had to summon all your strength to rip your eyes from Johnny’s strong and glistening chest to meet his dark eyes. “It’s fine as far as I know, doesn’t hurt anymore,” you stumbled across your words. Couldn’t he just button his shirt back up? “Let me see.” Before you could protest he had made two big steps and was right in front of you, the intoxicating smell of his perfume filling your senses. He gently tucked your hair back to have a look at the piercing and you swore you could feel electricity buzz beneath your skin where he had touched you. “You took great care of it, darling. Not regretting it yet?” “No, I like it.” I like you. The words had laid on your tongue but you managed to swallow them back down.

“Stop flirting with her, I’m the one paying for your attention,” Jaemin whined from where he was sitting. You of course immediately felt all your blood rush to your head but Johnny just chuckled. “I haven’t seen any cash yet, boy.” The tattoo artist gave you a last wink before turning towards his actual client, buttoning his shirt back up but leaving the last two buttons unbuttoned, letting the head of the eagle just barely poke out. Taking a deep breath you sat down in the worn leather chair while Jaemin handed Johnny a bunch of bills that the taller quickly counted. “Alright, I’m all yours for the next five hours or so,” he grinned, “You saw the drafts I sent you?” Jaemin nodded while he took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his T-Shirt to expose the ink on his arm. It was already beautiful even though it wasn’t even halfway done. The hummingbird was still missing its shading and he hung in the air for now, the flowers and leaves stopping above its head. “Yeah, I’m still not sure about the color though. Can’t we just do more flowers instead?” “Sure but the inner arm and near the elbow is going to hurt like a bitch. So it’s either that or you let me color that hummingbird.” Jaemin groaned dramatically, turning his arm to look into the mirror. “He does look weird just half-finished like that.” “So color it is?” Johnny asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt a bit, exposing his own tattoos: A snake like dragon curled around his entire right arm, kept in all black ink. “I really liked that green-blue watercolor thing you sent,” Jaemin supplied when he turned to lie down. “Right, then I’ll do some flowers directly surrounding the bird and color that thing.” He snapped his black gloves on and turned to prepare his machine and the colors.

“Come closer with that stupid chair,” Jaemin whined, making grabby hands at you. After Johnny nodded, you pushed the chair closer with great effort. “Are you going to whine for the whole time?” You groaned but smiled fondly at your friend. “Most likely,” Johnny answered instead of Jaemin and rolled over on his little stool, his silver framed glasses back on his nose and a pen between his lips. “I’ll freehand a bunch of flowers first to make sure they fit around that little guy nicely.” “And I thought you liked putting others in pain,” Jaemin joked when Johnny adjusted a little lamp and began to draw flower after flower. It was really fascinating how quick his hand drew delicate petals and leaves, filling up the space around the hummingbird. “Oh if I put others in pain, they usually like it,” he grinned, his voice dropping an octave. You almost choked on plain air and had to try to mask it as coughing but if the way Johnny’s eyes twinkled was any indication, he had seen right through it and dared to be smug about it. “Wow my third appointment and we’re already talking about kinks?” “Sorry Jaem, not interested,” the artist laughed, “I’m more into cute girls.” He leaned back to examine his drawing, throwing you another quick wink. You barely held in a squeak. He really wasn’t even trying to be subtle about his flirting anymore. “Ready for the big gun?” “Oh dick jokes now, nice,” Jaemin chuckled while you were sure your head was about to explode from how much blood was collecting in there. You covered your hot cheeks with your hands in a hopeless attempt to cool them. “Oh look Johnny, she’s getting shy already.” “I haven’t even started yet, baby.” That was it. This man was going to be the death of you. You really didn’t need to know what it sounded like when he spoke those words that were dripping with honey. “Why did I agree to come with you?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Because you missed me”, Johnny said at the same time as Jaemin said: “Because you’re a good friend.”

After a beat of silence in which Johnny arranged his actual tattoo gun and Jaemin stared at you while his smile grew bigger and bigger, he asked: “Now which one is it?” “I’m not answering that,” you mumbled from beneath your fingers. “No answer is an answer as well,” Jaemin singsang but luckily the low buzzing of the tattoo machine saved you from any further embarrassment… For now��   “Now hold still or I’ll actually stab you,” Johnny warned before he dipped the needle into black ink and began to trace the lines he had just drawn on with a fine needle. “Yessir,” Jaemin joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Johnny was unusually quiet while he worked, completely tuning out the chatter of you and Jaemin about shitty professors and assignments. You were absolutely fascinated by the confidence he radiated while dragging the needle over his client’s skin. He went back and forth between two different tattoo guns and rubbed Jaemin’s skin every now and then to get rid of excess ink. Soon Jaemin’s whole upper arm was decorated with delicate flowers and leaves and Johnny leaned back to both take a deep breath while stretching his back and to look at his work. “Let’s take a break before I do the color,” he proposed, wiping down the skin. “It looks great,” you complimented his work, taking a picture for Jaemin so he could see it himself. “Damn that pain really pays off,” your friend grinned, zooming in and out of the picture before posting it to his Instagram. “Does it hurt badly?” “You get used to it,” he shrugged, not taking his eyes from his feed, “It’s more like someone continuously scratching you.” “I can show you if you want,” Johnny chimed in from where he was cleaning his tattoo gun from the black ink. “I don’t think I’m spontaneous enough for a sudden tattoo.” “Not even if I offer it for free again?” He laughed. “I’m not mentally prepared for that,” you tried to reason. “I can still show you how it feels though. Without ink.” You shyly nodded and held out your arm for him that he quickly wiped down with disinfectant when he was done putting a fresh needle into the gun. “Just don’t flinch, darling,” he softly spoke before the buzzing of his tattoo gun filled the silence. You expected it to hurt a lot more when the needle touched your skin but it really wasn’t that bad. It was an odd kind of pain you couldn’t really describe. “It’s not that bad,” you told him, looking into his beautiful brown eyes behind his glasses. “It hurts more when it’s directly on the bone or at a more tender area,” Johnny explained and turned the gun off again, bending down to look at the slightly reddened skin of your arm before chucking the used needle into the nearby trashcan. “Let’s patch that up real quick, just treat it like any other scratch.” You nodded and let the handsome man put a band-aid over it. But before you could pull your arm back again, he leaned down to press a kiss on the cloth “For a good and quick healing,” he breathed and grinned smugly when you quickly turned your head away to hide your heated face.

“When you’re done flirting, will you finally put some color into me?” Jaemin interrupted, grinning widely. “That’s what she said,” you mumbled under your breath, making Johnny chuckle. “All you need to do is ask, darling.” Before you could even wrap your mind around what the tattoo artist had just implied, he had already rolled back over to your blue haired friend to take a look at the hummingbird. “Alright let’s do this,” he grinned before wiping down the skin once more. The buzzing of a new machine filled the room and Jaemin scrunched his eyes shut when the needle dipped in turquoise ink met his skin. “This is nasty,” he complained. “Don’t be a baby,” Johnny murmured, dragging the needle over your friend’s skin that accepted the ink quickly. “You want to hold my hand?” You giggled. What you didn’t expect was for Jaemin to actually reach out to you with his unoccupied arm, making a grabby hand. “Jeno always holds my hand,” he whined. “You’re such a big baby, Nana,” you sighed but still laced your fingers together, yelping loudly when Jaemin squeezed down hard. “You said it didn’t even hurt, you big liar,” you squeezed out between gritted teeth. “You’re not the one getting stabbed,” Jaemin argued, “That shit hurts different than the black.” “It’s a different needle,” Johnny explained, “People usually say it hurts less than outlines though.” “It’s not more or less, it’s just different.” “Well it’s going to hurt more if you keep seizing up like that, relax.” “You’re one to fucking talk,” Jaemin sounded upset. “Don’t curse at me for giving you a pretty tattoo,” Johnny just said, dipping his needle into the little pot that held the color again. “Talk him through it,” the artist said to you, looking up from behind his glasses that had slipped down his nose again.

“Hey, remember that time when Donghyuck was so drunk he wanted to jump from the roof into the pool at that frat house?” You quickly said, the silly story coming to mind first. The memory made Jaemin giggle. “Jeno and Mark had so much trouble holding him back once he managed to climb out of the window,” the blue haired boy chuckled. “They were lucky they didn’t fall off.” “That would have made for an even better story though,” Jaemin laughed. “They could have hurt themselves,” you said, scandalized, “You’re hanging out with Renjun too much.” Jaemin didn’t answer, instead he just hummed and wiggled his dark eyebrows.

“Did you ever go to college?” You asked Johnny out of curiosity even though Jaemin had said that the artist preferred to keep quiet and concentrate on his work. “Do I look like I went?” He just laughed, cocking one of his stupidly perfect eyebrows at you when he looked up. “Well, I didn’t want to assume,” you shied away under his gaze. “I dropped out of high school to learn tattooing,” Johnny shared while painting Jaemin’s skin as blue as his hair, “I wasn’t good in school anyways. So art school or something wasn’t an option either. Not that I would have had any money for that.” “What made you want to pick up tattooing then?” You asked curiously. “Art usually is very temporarily and if you make a mistake, you can just erase it or paint over it with another color. Not so much with tattoos. I like that. It’s immortal as long as you don’t start shooting lasers at it.” “I’ve never thought about it like that,” you confessed. Tattooing had never seemed like art to you but that was exactly what it was. Just not on a canvas but under your skin. “Thinking about getting one now?” Jaemin teased, squeezing your hand that he still held. “I haven’t even told my parents about the piercing,” you scoffed, “They would disown me.” “Well too bad, I know a pretty good tattoo artist,” he joked and poked his tongue out. “Do you now?” Johnny asked, a grin on his lips, wiping down Jaemin’s arm before going in with a lighter color. “Yeah, he works in this shady ass shop in Itaewon and I am pretty sure you can buy drugs there as well.” “Those are not for sale,” the artist chuckled when he saw your scandalized expression. “It’s just anesthetics for certain piercing procedures, calm down doll.” “So sadly, it turns out you can’t buy drugs at their shop but it still looks shady and I’m pretty sure they’re paying part of the mafia so the police won’t come to investigate.” “I know nothing of transactions of this sort,” Johnny commented before you could get an actual heart attack. Illegally tattooing and piercing was one thing but mingling with the mafia was a whole other thing. “Anyways, he does pretty cool tattoos and pierces as well,” Jaemin continued, a grin on his lips, “Also talking male to male here, he’s pretty ripped.” At that Johnny started grinning as well. “Wanna know his name?” Jaemin asked you when Johnny turned to clean his needle and you just rolled your eyes but nodded, wondering what he was getting out of all of this. “It’s Jaehyun.” “Excuse me?” Johnny exclaimed with wide eyes when both you and your blue haired friend started laughed at his stupid joke. “This kid,” he mumbled and shook his head before putting the needle back to Jaemin’s skin who seemed to have forgotten to whine about the pain.

The rest of the appointment was spend with you and Jaemin chatting about this and that and a short video call from a red eyed Jeno who had finished his shift at the cat café and wanted to apologize and promised to buy you two dinner after you were done. “I think that’s all I can do for today,” Johnny said after he had stared at the little hummingbird for a while, “Your skin took the color well but if I do any more, I’ll stress the skin too much. I can go in another time if I need to fix anything.” Jaemin nodded, sitting up so he could inspect the colorful hummingbird in the mirror. “Wow that looks sick,” he commented, his eyes going wide, “Totally worth the pain.” “That’s what I wanna hear,” the artist grinned, grabbing some paper towels to rub the tattoo down once more. “Let me snap a picture to post.”

After both men had taken about 20 photos each, Johnny quickly wrapped Jaemin’s arm in plastic wrap, reminding him how to take care of it. “Text me for the next session, I think we could fit some pretty roses at the bottom. Maybe add a dash of color here and there or other animals,” the artist smiled, slipping the glasses off his nose, gently placing them on the table. “I’ll think about it but first I gotta slave away behind the bar to make more money,” Jaemin sighed, shrugging his jacket back on. “And you darling?” Johnny asked, putting on his confident smile again. “When will I see you again?” You just stared at him, at a loss for an answer. Did he really want to see you again? But before you could even open your mouth, Jaemin had already pulled your phone from your grasp, unlocked it and shoved it towards Johnny. “Put your number in already,” he sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. Laughing, Johnny did as your friend had said. “Very smooth, Jaem.” “I- I guess I’ll text you,” you stuttered when Johnny gave your phone back, your fingers tingling where his touched yours. “I’ll be waiting, darling,” he winked, raking a hand through his inky strands. “Alright, time to leave, before you start drooling,” Jaemin destroyed the intense atmosphere and grabbed your arm to pull you back to the main room and out of the parlor, leaving a laughing Johnny behind in his room.

“I wasn’t even drooling, what the fuck Jaemin,” you argued when you were outside, your phone clutched to your chest. “Stop complaining, I got you his number, you should be thankful,” he just grinned, absolutely shameless, tugging you along through the little street. “I will not thank you for embarrassing me in front of him,” you pouted, unlocking your phone to confirm that Johnny had indeed put his number into the contacts with a little black heart behind his name.

“Is it too early to text him?” You asked when you and Jaemin sat in the subway on the way to his and Jeno’s dorm to take him up on his offer for food. Your friend just laughed at you, making an elderly man scowl at the two of you, who shook his head in disapproval. Well, Jaemin’s visuals didn’t help him when he acted like this in public. But as long as he didn’t care, you wouldn’t care either. “Text him after we’ve eaten,” he advised you. “Then you don’t seem as desperate as you are,” he added, which earned him a punch to his not tattooed arm.

All through dinner, Jaemin retold every embarrassing moment that happened at the tattoo parlor, making Jeno laugh so hard that he almost choked on his rice. You really needed to find new friends. These ones were just harassing you at this point. (Aside from the fact that Jaemin had indeed managed to get you Johnny’s number, you’d thank him later when he couldn’t make fun at you.)

Later that night, you laid in bed in your own dorm room, staring at the screen of your phone. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard but you really couldn’t think of what you should text Johnny. You didn’t want to seem weird. With how confident he was, he probably did this a lot and you were too proud to make a fool of yourself. Groaning you tossed and turned in your bed for a while, still staring at the empty chat box that by now must be mocking you for your cowardice. Sighing you typed out another short message to immediately delete it again. Should you just send him a simple ‘Hi’ or ask him if he had eaten? How the rest of his day went? In moments like this you whished you were more confident in yourself.

The sound of an incoming message suddenly filled the room and made you jerk. When you saw Johnny’s name on the screen, your heart first stopped for a second before it started beating about three times as fast as it should. How did that happen? With shaking hands you unlocked the phone to see that you in fact didn’t delete the last message but accidentally send it. Luckily it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been and Johnny had just answered that he was glad that you had finally texted him. Before you could think of an answer he sent another text asking you why you were still awake this late when he expected you to be a ‘good girl’. You could practically hear his smirk and you couldn’t fight the heat that rose to your cheeks. You replied that you were already in bed and were about to sleep if he was concerned about your sleep pattern that honestly wasn’t the greatest ever since the semester had started. ‘Oh, sexting already’ he replied, making you shriek in embarrassment. Was this what your message had looked like? ‘You alone?’ He asked and with a furiously beating heart you answered with a simple yes.

A couple of seconds went by with no answer from him which definitely didn’t lower your anxiety before the loud sound of your ringtone tore through the silence, Johnny’s name on the display. You quickly answered it to not wake up anyone on your floor, pressing it tightly to your ear. “Hello?” “Good evening, miss,” you heard the rumble of Johnny’s voice, “Missed me already?” “You’re the one who called,” you argued, making the man on the other end of the line giggle. “That is true.” “Why did you call?” You asked curiously, shifting to lie down on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Just wanted some company. My last client just left and I’m cleaning up the shop for today, the others already left,” he explained. “Jaehyun and Taeyong?” “Yeah those two guys,” he sighed and you heard him rummaging in the background. “Is it just you three at the shop?” “Yeah, it was just me and Taeyong at first but Jaehyun is an incredibly quick learner once he had found someone who was willing to teach him a thing or two. So he quickly joined the two of us.” You just hummed, your fingers playing with your hair, unsure of what to say. It was somehow easier to talk to him like this when you couldn’t see his eyes twinkle in mischief or his lips curling up in that confident smirk. Like this he was just a boy who wanted company and not an insanely handsome, heavily tattooed man who flirted shamelessly. “Do you usually work this late?” You asked to fill the silence and out of curiosity as well. If the shop wasn’t legal there sure weren’t any laws regulating how long the artists were supposed to work. “I don’t,” Johnny laughed, “But thank you for your concern. I was just tattooing a friend for free after my last paying client left because he was in the area.” “You do that a lot? Offering up your services for free?” “Just for friends and special people, doll,” he chuckled, “Why? Are you considering getting inked after all?”

Well were you? You didn’t even know at this point. Whenever you had thought of tattoos you had only ever thought about big bold and very black lines, of skulls, names of exes on your skin forever and warped pictures of people’s faces. But never of delicate flowers, bright colors and intricate designs. Johnny had made it obvious that it was art that he was doing and that it wasn’t just some technical procedure to get color beneath your skin. “I- I don’t know,” you confessed, “I never thought much about tattoos until Jaemin started getting them.” “I thought so,” the artist chuckled, “But I bet I could design a pretty piece that would compliment you nicely.” “I don’t think I’m the type for it though,” you argued, thinking about the amount of ink on Johnny’s body and you hadn’t even seen half of it. (Not that you planned on doing so but you were curious to know if there was more hiding beneath his clothes.) “It doesn’t have to be an obvious one. Just something only you know about.” That really got you thinking. His tattoos were really delicate and you had seen that he could write in really pretty cursive. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, darling. But if you ever want one, you know who to ask.”

“Yeah, thank you Johnny,” you murmured, lost in thought about how you would look like with multiple tattoos. “I like the way you say my name.” “You- what?” You stuttered when he caught you off guard like that, making him laugh. “You’re cute,” he said once he had calmed down. “Stop pouting,” he added when you weren’t answering. “How did you know I was?” Johnny chuckled again. “I just knew.” “Thank you for keeping me company,” he said when you hadn’t said anything in a while. “It’s alright. I like talking to you,” you confessed. You could hear a door closing and his deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “You probably hear that a lot…” you murmured, embarrassed at how the words had slipped past your lips. “I actually don’t,” Johnny said, “I appreciate the words, darling. I’m all done cleaning up now, thank you for keeping me company.” “It’s fine, no need to thank me.” “You should go sleep now, it’s already late. Sweet dreams, doll. Maybe I’ll even visit you.” “Goodnight, Johnny,” you squeaked. The last thing you heard before he ended the call was another chuckle and a hushed goodbye. Smiling widely you turned your face into your pillow to muffle the scream you let out. How could this man make your heart beat faster like that with just a few simple words? And why did this short phone call make you so happy? Sighing, you put your phone to your nightstand and cuddled tightly into your blanket, the thought of Johnny’s smooth voice guiding you to sleep where he indeed did visit you.

After that initial phone call, Johnny called you more and more often. Sometimes when he was on his lunch break and his colleagues were still working, sometimes later at night when your head was spinning from studying and he was cleaning up the shop. You two talked about your days, you complained about professors, deadlines and assignments and he told you about tattooing and his sometimes crazy clients. And every now and then Johnny would bring up his offer to tattoo you. Which made your thoughts spiral every single time. In class you would scroll through Johnny’s Instagram account, imagining what some of the intricate, more feminine designs would look like on your skin. After much consideration you definitely ruled out anything big or colorful. But something small wouldn’t hurt, right? Well it would, you would be giving him permission to stab you with an automated needle a bunch of times which in itself sounded really scary. But Jaemin’s tattoo looked nice. And after his skin had peeled, the hummingbird truly looked absolutely incredible and you couldn’t wait for him to visit the shop again to keep working on the sleeve.

So in a whim of bravery and with the help of the little glass of wine you had drank you told Johnny that he should tattoo you. “Are you for real?” He asked. “I am,” you giggled, “I’ve thought about it a lot the past weeks.” “I am honored, darling. What will it be?” “Something small and no colors please,” you told him. “That’s all you’re asking for?” “Yeah, I… I like the simple black stuff you do,” you stuttered, suddenly really nervous and unsure if this was actually a good idea. “I’ll design something that’ll match you perfectly,” Johnny promised, sounding very eager. You could hear some rummaging on his end of the line. “I could fit you in Friday evening after my last client. It won’t be too late and I need some time to come up with a design that’s worthy of being in your body.” You swallowed dryly. If you said yes, you couldn’t back out anymore. You would be getting inked. Secretly. Without telling anyone. Not to mention illegally. In a reasonably shady shop that was owned by the most gorgeous man you had ever met. Taking a deep breath, you nodded before you realized that he couldn’t see that. “I’ll be there,” you promised. “I’m looking forward to it, doll,” Johnny said before he wished you sweet dreams just like every time when he called you late at night.

The neon light in front of the door to the shop was already shut off when you arrived the next Friday late in the evening but the door gave away when you pushed it open with trembling hands after taking a deep breath. “I thought you weren’t going to come, darling, you left me waiting,” Johnny greeted you, jumping down from the counter he had sat on. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a little white rose design over his heart that fit him perfectly. His hair was elegantly swept back, exposing the freshly shaved part on the side. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, fumbling with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll take good care of you,” he promised, quickly locking the front door before taking you to his room where he motioned for you to sit on the bench. “Do you trust me?” He asked, tipping your head up so you would look into his dark eyes. “I- I think I do,” you stuttered. “I won’t tell you what you’re getting,” Johnny grinned and your eyes widened in shock. “You will like it and it’s not that big.” “I’m not sure, Johnny,” you voiced your concerns but he just pressed his index finger to your lips before you could say any more. Your breath hitched and he could definitely feel your shaky exhale against his finger. “You said you trust me, doll.” Taking another shaky breath, you nodded and a smile spread over his plush lips. “I need you to take off your shirt and lie down on your left side,” he spoke, his voice casual but you could feel something shift in the air between you. At a loss for words you just nodded again and did as Johnny asked when he turned around to gather his stuff.

“Take a couple of deep breaths for me, darling,” he instructed you when he rolled over on his little stool, his glasses sitting low on his nose and his hands already gloved. “It’s going on your ribs,” he told you so you wouldn’t flinch when he quickly dragged a razor over the area before disinfecting it. “I’ll draw a quick sketch first. I don’t want to mess it up when it’s going on your beautiful skin.”  You felt the tip of his pen meet your skin in a gentle stroke, tickling your skin so you had to giggle. “Don’t make me mess this up, baby,” Johnny scolded, playfully slapping your back. “It tickles,” you pouted. “I’m trying to be gentle with you,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. While he was sketching, you closed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was drawing. But all you could figure out was that it was something rather small which calmed your nerves a bit.

“All done,” the tattoo artist announced after a while and quickly pulled his little side table with his tattoo gun and ink closer. When the low buzzing noise filled the air, you pressed your eyes shut even tighter, balling your hands into fists. Technically you knew it wouldn’t hurt badly, Johnny had shown you before. But you were still getting stabbed a bunch of times and fuck, you were really doing this. Letting this man put something on your body that was going to be there forever and you didn’t even know what it was going to be. “Relax, darling. I’ll be as gentle as I can be,” he promised, running a hand up and down your back. “It’s going to be on me forever,” you said. “It is. Your own personal piece of art on your body. Just for you to have.” That was a beautiful way to see it, you thought. It’s not just some pigment stabbed into your skin but art. Something unique no one else had. And Johnny would be painting it on just you for you and you alone. “Okay, let’s do this,” you breathed. “That’s my good girl,” Johnny praised and the words made your stomach twist with a feeling you didn’t want to further explore.

The pain was bearable. It was weird at first and the ribs sure hurt more than it had on your arm and the bones somehow seemed to amplify the buzzing, making it travel through your body. You had to grit your teeth when Johnny went over what seemed to be the middle part of the tattoo, where he grazed the skin in quick successions. “That hurts.” “I know, baby. But you’re almost done. You’re doing so well for me,” he soothed and gave you a small break to breathe before he went back in.

“All done, darling,” Johnny announced a little later, turning off his machine and rubbing the tattoo down with a wet paper towel. “Can I see it now?” You asked. “In a bit, keep your eyes closed,” he spoke softly and took your hands in his now ungloved ones to first guide you into a sitting position and then off the bench and over to what you assumed to be the mirror. He turned you so your side was facing the glass and put one of his big hands on your waist. It felt hot on your exposed skin and made goosebumps break out on your skin. “Open your eyes, doll.” You did and looked directly into his dark chocolate brown eyes behind his glasses. “I’m too scared to look now, is that silly?” You asked, losing yourself in his eyes and leaning towards his body that just seemed to radiate heat. “It’s beautiful, just like you,” he assured you, squeezing your waist reassuringly. After taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from him and turned to look at yourself in the mirror where a delicate, black chrysanthemum was awaiting you on the skin over your ribs. It indeed looked beautiful, absolutely stunning. It was small but looked so delicate and realistic and fit well with the curves of your body. “It’s stunning,” you whispered.

“Thank you, Johnny.” “No need to thank me, darling,” he chuckled and when your eyes met again, his were dark and almost hungry. “But I think I should reward you for being so good while I tattooed you.” Before you could ask what kind of reward he was talking about, he had already connected your lips in a passionate kiss and pulled your body flush against his. You couldn’t help but sigh now that you finally knew what the metal of his lip piercing felt like against your lips. Johnny was a good kisser and you were boneless in his strong grip not long after he had slipped his tongue past your lips after you had moaned into the kiss when he had started to push you backwards to the bench again, hoisting you back up. “Let me make up for the pain I’ve caused you,” he breathed against your swollen lips when you broke apart to breathe.   “Just keep kissing me like that,” you demanded, burying your hands in his soft black locks to kiss him again. He chuckled and let you dominate the kiss for a while, toying with the black ring in his lip and exploring his mouth. Meanwhile Johnny’s hands started to wander from their place on your waist down to grope at your ass, pulling you forward against him, so you could feel his growing erection between your legs which made a spark of arousal shoot through you.

“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he breathed heavily while kissing down your neck, gently taking the skin between his teeth. “Please Johnny,” you begged, feeling the arousal simmer low in your stomach. Grinning he pulled back and raked his dark eyes over your figure before making quick work of your belt and sliding your jeans along with your panties from your legs, only shortly struggling with your shoes. “It’s not Johnny now, baby,” he rasped when he kneeled down in front of you, pulling you towards him roughly, so your glistening core was exposed to him. “It’s Daddy,” he added before licking a broad stripe through your folds and flicking his tongue at your clit. You could just mewl and throw your head back in pleasure. You didn’t know that this would be such a turn on for you. “Say it, baby,” Johnny demanded, lazily dragging his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered and you could feel his low groan vibrating against your core. He wasted no time to attach his plush lips to your clit, gently sucking and grazing his teeth over the little nub, making you mewl and shiver in pleasure. He definitely knew what he was doing, altering between stimulating your clit to the point where it almost became too much before he focused on dragging his tongue through your folds, gently prodding against your entrance before it gave away. When Johnny moaned you could feel it travel straight through you, making your head swim with pleasure. Looking down to the man kneeling in front of you, you were met with his dark eyes, staring straight up into yours. Moaning, you threaded your fingers into his soft hair and pressed his face closer to your core, not even taking the chance that he could move back. “Feels so good, Daddy,” you moaned when he spread your labia with his fingers so his tongue could dive deeper into you, stimulating your velvety walls. When he hummed it send sweet vibrations through your core and you could feel your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast. “Mmmh, so close Daddy.” “You wanna cum, baby?” He rasped, his hot breath fanning over your clit that he was lazily rubbing with two fingers. You bit your lip and met his dark eyes, nodding furiously. “Then beg for it, doll. I could stay here for hours,” Johnny spoke before he turned his head to mouth at your thigh, gently biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until it bruised under his ministrations. “I would just keep you right on the edge for hours until you’re a shaking mess for me, begging for release.” His lips split into a wicked grin when he saw how his dirty words affected you and he slowed his fingers on your clit until it was just enough to keep you stimulated but not enough to make the knot in your stomach snap. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered. “Please what baby?” He rested his head on your thigh, looking up at you from innocent eyes as if he wasn’t driving you insane with just his fingers. “What is it beautiful?” He repeated the question, replacing his fingers with his tongue. “You wanna cum?” “Yes please,” you whined, grinding your hips against his tongue to get more friction. “Well if you ask so nicely…” Johnny immediately slipped two fingers inside you with almost no resistance from how ridiculously wet you were and began pumping them in and out of your core fast, crooking them to search for your sweet spot. “Come on baby,” he growled, locking eyes with you again when he closed his lips around your clit. Almost screaming his name, you came hard when his fingers finally found your sweet spot, rubbing at it mercilessly to help you ride out your orgasm. Your thighs were shaking and you fell back onto the bench, the leather sticking to your back where you just laid for a while, your head spinning, breathing heavily.

“You look gorgeous like that,” Johnny complimented you, when he got back up from the floor, raking his clean hand through the mess that was his hair before he shamelessly took his fingers that were covered in your essence into his mouth, sucking them clean. Through half lidded eyes you could see the way he was still straining against the fabric of his jeans and the sight made your mouth water. “You’re still hard,” you said breathless.   “I am,” he said matter of factly. You wordlessly let your thighs fall open for him, exposing your core to him. “Oh baby,” Johnny cursed, pressing the heel of his palm against his bulge, “As much as I want to fuck you right now, you still have a fresh tattoo, doll.” “Please, Johnny, I want it,” you begged. “Shh, baby,” he soothed you rubbing a hand over your thigh, “Let me dress that tattoo and then I’ll take you upstairs to fuck you on an actual bed like you deserve.” You nodded, amazed by his amount of self-control.

Johnny worked quickly and efficiently: Cleaning your tattoo one last time before putting some ointment on it to keep it moisturized. At last he gently taped down a small sheet of plastic foil to keep it safe. “All done, beautiful,” he spoke before pecking your lips, “You still want to come upstairs with me?” “Yes Daddy,” you answered and you swore you could see his eyes darken just from the word alone. “Hold on tightly,” he ordered before scooping you up into his arms, holding you up by your thighs. Squealing you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on tightly. “I’ll get your clothes before we open up tomorrow,” he mumbled when he carried you through the back door of the shop that lead to a dusty staircase. You pressed your body closer to his, nuzzling your face into his neck where the smell of his cologne was the strongest, to have some of his warmth seep into your skin when you started to shiver from the cold air. Lazily you let your lips travel over his skin, sucking a mark next to a splash of ink.

Johnny quickly grabbed the keys to his apartment’s door from atop of the doorframe (not really safe) and unlocked his door while holding you up with just one of his arms, the display of strength making your head spin. With quick steps he crossed the way to his bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, immediately crawling on top of you, crowding you against the mattress. “I knew you would look good in my bed,” he rasped, kissing your neck while his hands made quick work of the bra that you were still wearing for some reason. “You’re gorgeous, doll,” he breathed after he had sat up on his knees, looking down at you with dark eyes, his big hands roaming your body. Feeling shy under all the attention and compliments he was giving you, you tried to hide your face behind your fingers but he wasn’t having any of it, quickly grabbing your wrists in one hand to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide from me baby. Daddy wants to see how much you’re enjoying yourself.” You could just nod, trying to force down the whimper that almost spilled past your lips, he hadn’t even done much yet and you were already feeling arousal pulse through your veins. “I couldn’t hear your answer,” Johnny teased, gently grabbing one of your boobs to massage the soft flesh. “Yes, Daddy.” “That’s my good girl,” he grinned, releasing your wrists to slip his T-Shirt over his head, revealing his strong chest where the eagle majestically spread its wings and the hard lines of his abs. “Like what you see?” He asked smugly, climbing off the bed to unbuckle his belt and slip his jeans off his narrow hips, revealing strong, muscled thighs. One of them was covered with the face of a growling panther while the other was decorated with a colorful koifish tattoo that disappeared beneath the fabric of his dark boxers that were doing very little to hide a prominent bulge. “Let me,” you breathed and crawled over to hook your thumbs into the waistband. But before you pulled them down, you pressed a couple of kisses to the cherry blossom branch tattoo that seemed to stretch from his back over his hipbone and further down, mingling with the koi tattoo further down. With every centimeter of skin you exposed, more ink from the blossoms became visible and you kissed every single one of the delicate flowers. When his length finally sprang free, you had to swallow dryly: His cock was huge and hung heavy between his legs. Licking your lips you looked up to him, to find him grinning down at you. “Go to town, baby.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, you were itching to feel his heavy weight on your tongue. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before placing a hand at the base only to find him surprisingly soft as you experimentally pumped your hand once. “It takes a while for it to get fully hard,” he groaned when you moved your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, feeling it pulse beneath your fingers. Damn if he wasn’t even fully hard, how big would he be if he was? Holding him at the base, you licked a broad stripe up the whole length before you swiped your tongue around the pink head, pulling another groan from Johnny’s lips. Taking a deep breath, you finally took him in your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, tasting his skin. The weight on your tongue felt just right and you couldn’t help but moan as you slowly started to take more and more of him until you felt him hit the back of your throat. Shit, you were barely able to fit half of his length in your mouth like this. “You’re so big,” you moaned when you pulled off of him with a wet pop, spreading your saliva down the shaft with both of your hands. Johnny just hummed and grabbed a handful of your hair to shove your mouth back onto his dick. He cursed when the velvety heat surrounded him again and gently began to thrust in and out your mouth. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he breathed heavily. You could only moan where your lips were stretched around his length and hollow your cheeks when he pulled out, the grip he had on your hair keeping you in place while he snapped his hips. “Shit baby,” Johnny cursed when he pulled out, panting while he rested the head of his cock on your outstretched tongue. “I could cum like this.” You whined pathetically, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He chuckled and gently slapped his cock against your lips, smearing them with precum. “But you don’t want that, don’t you, baby? You want my cock inside you? Stretching you out?” “Yes Daddy, please. I need it so bad,” you blabbered, not even knowing where those words were coming from but you seemed to have said the right thing with how Johnny’s dick twitched in his hand.

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby. Ass up.” It was almost comically how fast you complied, baring yourself to him. “Such a good girl,” he praised, grabbing your asscheeks to knead and pull them apart. “Beautiful.” “Please Daddy,” you begged him, arching your back further. “Patience baby,” he chuckled. A frustrated groan got stuck in your throat and turned into a drawn out whine when he pushed two of his fingers inside you, pumping them quickly and curling them to find your sweet spot again. Soon two fingers became three and he had reduced you to a moaning mess with how he abused your sweet spot once he had found it again. “You think you’re ready for my cock, baby?” “Yes. Oh god, yes please,” you begged while shamelessly grinding back on his fingers that he had stilled inside of you. “Spread your cheeks for me,” he ordered while quickly grabbing a condom from his bedside table and rolling it onto his cock. Balancing your weight on your knees and shoulders, you reached around yourself to pull your asscheeks apart so Johnny could see your core clenching around nothing. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he rasped, running his palm along the curve of your body while lazily thrusting his cock through your folds, making it glisten with your essence. Finally you could feel him nudging at your entrance with the thick head of his cock. “You want it, baby?” “Yes please Daddy,” you gasped, trying hard to be good and not grind back against him. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he chuckled, “And good girls get what they want if they ask so politely.” With that he finally sank into you in one agonizingly slow thrust until you could feel his hip bones press against your skin. You had to screw your eyes shut and bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You had never felt so full before.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Johnny groaned, grabbing you by the dip of your waist with his big hands, grinding you on his cock. “I’m so full, Daddy,” you gasped when he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside you before he languidly thrust back in. “Yeah? You like that? Being stuffed full of my cock?” You could only moan and nod where your head was pressed into the sheets. His cock was so big that it seemed to press against every good spot that was inside you, setting your nerve endings on fire, the pain from being stretched like that only adding to your pleasure. “You‘re sucking me right back in baby,” he cursed and gripped your waist harder, pulling you back on his cock as he picked up the pace, low groans falling from his lips. Your moans got progressively louder and louder the faster Johnny snapped his hips. “Hands behind your back, baby,” he ordered panting and immediately grabbed both your wrists in his hands to use them as leverage so he could fuck into you faster, the change of angle and pace making you moan his name. Your head was swimming with pleasure and you could only moan and mewl beneath him, imagining how he would bite his lip while watching his dick disappear inside you over and over again, stretching out the delicate skin of your sex. “God baby, your ass looks amazing,” Johnny groaned, praise after praise falling from his lips that reduced you to a moaning mess.

With one particularly hard thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside you and draped his body over yours, his hot breath fanning over your face when he spoke, a deep rumble in his chest while grinding his dick right against your sweet spot that had you seeing colors behind your closed eyes. “Wanna see you bounce on my dick, doll. Can you do that for me?” Taking a deep breath, you nodded. Your ability to form coherent sentences had left you as soon as he had begun to fuck you in earnest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred and gently pulled out, making you whimper from the loss. You felt the bed dip next to you and when you opened your eyes, you were met with Johnny’s pleased smirk as he leaned against the headboard of the bed, his cock resting against his hip, too heavy to properly stand up and you couldn’t stop another whimper. “Come on baby, I know you want it,” he grinned, crooking a finger in a ‘come closer’ motion. Dragging your limbs from beneath you with great effort, you climbed onto his lap, immediately claiming his lips in a messy kiss. You buried your hands in his stupidly perfect hair to mess it up and tug at the inky strands, causing Johnny to moan into the kiss. “Hmm, my baby is feisty,” he chuckled when he broke the kiss, the pupils of his dark eyes blown so wide that they seemed almost black. “But you promised me to ride my dick,” he reminded you. “And I’m gonna,” you slurred, reaching between your bodies to grab his cock, giving it a couple of strokes. “But turn around for me baby. Wanna see how much my fat cock is going to stretch you out,” he rasped, playfully biting your lips. “But I want to see you too,” you complained. “Oh you can,” he grinned and pointed over your shoulder. You reluctantly turned around before you saw what he meant. Right across from the bed was a big mirror and you gasped because of how fucked out you already looked. A couple of tears had rolled down your cheeks and messed up your makeup and your lipstick was smeared around your lips.

You carefully grabbed Johnny’s cock again and held it steady so you could sink down on him, watching yourself in the mirror until you sat snug on his lap and had to close your eyes because the feeling was so overwhelming. He felt even bigger like that. “You okay, baby?” He asked, grabbing your hips tightly to help you swivel them on his cock, making it press into your walls just how you liked it. “How does your cock feel even bigger like this?” You gasped as you leaned forward and slowly started to ride him at first to get used to his size and figure out the best angle for you. Your legs shook with the effort to keep your rhythm but the look Johnny had on his face, his eyes glued to where you two were connected, made it worth it. Suddenly a wicked grin spread on his lips and he snapped his hips up when you lowered yourself again, tearing loud moans from both of you. “Fuck, do that again,” you demanded when you raised your hips again. “What’s the magic word?” Johnny teased, holding you up so you wouldn’t drop down again. “Please, Daddy.” Groaning he started to snap his hips up every time you ground down on him, making your skin slap together with an obscene noise.

God you wanted to die on his dick. “Do you now?” Johnny laughed. Shit did you say that out loud? “Want to feel how deep it goes inside you?” He rasped, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You went lax in his hold and mewled helplessly. Who knew that a little display of strength and a big dick were such turn ons for you that your brain was reduced to mush. Grinning he carefully pulled you up and against his chest and draped your legs over his after he had planted his feet firmly onto the mattress. “Watch, baby,” he ordered as he lifted you off of him until only the tip was barely inside you anymore before letting you drop down again. You mewled and thrashed in his hold, the feeling just on the edge of too much. Feeling him deep inside you was one thing but actually seeing it was a whole other thing and it messed with your head. Curiously you pressed your hand down on your lower stomach when Johnny had started to piston his hips up into you instead of dropping you down onto his cock every time and you swore you could feel him move inside you. A drawn out curse left your lips and you threw your head back onto his shoulder.

With the way he was snapping his hips up you could feel your orgasm approach at lightning speed and you were so far gone that you shamelessly reached between your legs to stimulate your clit. “Fuck baby, you’re so hot like this,” Johnny groaned, grinding his dick inside you as you quickly rubbed your clit, toeing right on the edge. “Please Daddy,” you cried out, not sure what you were even begging for. “You gonna cum on my cock?” He rasped, snapping his hips harshly, “Wrapped around my big cock stretching you out like this?” You nodded your head furiously, your eyes screwed shut. You were so close that you could already feel your toes curling. “Show me baby. Show Daddy how good his cock makes you feel.” That’s what pushed you over the edge, the way he was panting in your ear, his voice strained from how he was drilling into you. The coil in your stomach snapped and you almost screamed his name, your body curling inwards and thighs shivering as your orgasm washed over you, making a bunch of colors explode behind your lids. In the back of your mind you registered Johnny’s curses and how he was grinding his cock inside you to help you ride out your orgasm. “Such a good girl,” he praised when your body went lax on top of him, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. You briefly wondered if you had ever cum this hard and you couldn’t think of any other time. “Thank you Daddy,” you panted, turning your face to press a messy kiss to his plush lips that were bitten raw. He chuckled lowly when you whimpered when his still hard cock shifted when you tried to turn around.

“Will you let me fuck you for a little longer, baby?” He asked, running a hand through your sweaty hair. Instead of answering him, you lifted yourself off his dick to turn around on his lap, capturing his lips again. “Want you to ruin me,” you whispered between kisses, “Want you to ruin me for any other men. Want to only remember how you feel inside of me.” Johnny growled deep in his chest before he pushed you down onto the bed, hungrily licking into your mouth. “You’re the one who is ruining me,” he panted, rising to his knees. He quickly grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders before he sank into you again with a low groan. This time he didn’t waste any time with building up the pace and immediately snapped his hips harshly, chasing his own orgasm. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he panted, folding your thighs to your chest so he could push into you even deeper, making you see stars with how he was nailing your sweet spot with the new angle. And even though you had just cum, you felt another orgasm build inside your stomach. A row of curses left Johnny’s lips when he could watch his dick slide in and out of you again and he gripped your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have bruises there tomorrow. But that was something you’d worry about later, right now your world was only made up of the handsome man with his huge cock that was currently rearranging your guts with how vigorously he was snapping his hips, making your skin slap together with lewd sounds.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” Johnny grunted, his hips losing their rhythm. “On me,” you managed to choke out, still lost in your own pleasure. Another groan left his bitten lips before he quickly pulled out and ripped the condom off, jerking his cock with quick strokes, his eyes fixed to yours. All it took was a couple of jerks before he threw his head back and you could see his abdominal muscles contract before the first burst of white hot cum spurted from his dick and covered your chest and stomach. With parted lips he stroked himself through his orgasm, milking rope after rope from his cock until he hissed with overstimulation. “Fuck,” he cursed before giggling when he saw the mess he had made of you, his cum dripping from your boobs and running down your stomach. He cursed again before claiming your lips. “You want to cum one last time, baby?” “Please Daddy,” you whined, spreading your legs further for him. “My good girl,” he sighed, sinking two fingers into your heat, quickly crooking them to stimulate your sweet spot while his thumb was putting sweet pressure on your clit, making you thrash beneath him. “You look so good covered in my cum,” he rasped before he kissed you harshly to swallow your moans and cries of pleasure. You desperately held on to his shoulders, breaking the kiss when your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen. While speeding up his fingers, Johnny began sucking bruises low on your neck and over the soft skin of your cleavage. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence because right that moment he had sucked one of your nipples into his mouth which was just enough to send you over the edge for a third time that night, your lips parted in a silent scream of his name and your thighs shaking and closing around the handsome man kneeling between them. “That’s my good girl,” he praised breathily and gently rocked his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm before he pulled them out, instead winding his strong arms around your body, holding you to his inked chest.

For a while he just held you close, not caring that his cum was now also stuck to his chest. “Fuck that was a lot,” you chuckled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Not what you thought would happen when you get a free tattoo?” Johnny softly spoke, carding his hand through your messy hair. “Not at all.” Another question was burning inside your head but you were too scared to ask it. You didn’t want to push him and ruin the mood. “I should clean you up and see if that tattoo is still okay. Then we can cuddle, alright?” The tattoo artist said before he detangled your bodies from one another to get up from the bed. He looked around on the floor for a cloth and you could finally see where the cherry blossoms on his hip were coming from. A big samurai was stretched over half his back, surrounded by the pinkish blossoms. It seemed like it wasn’t a complete piece yet, the samurai staring at the still untouched skin of Johnny’s left shoulderblade. “Your back tattoo is really pretty,” you mumbled to fill the silence while Johnny was wiping his chest clean before he gently did the same to you, taking extra caution when looking at your still fresh tattoo. “Thank you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the metal of his piercing feeling warm on your skin, “We should change that foil real quick.” You just nodded and let him do his work, exhaustion settling into your bones.

“Do you do this with all your clients?” Shit. You hadn’t meant to ask that, the question had just slipped your lips and you could feel Johnny freeze where he was dressing your tattoo again before he secured the last piece of tape. He sighed and slipped beneath the covers, pulling you against his chest, so you could listen to his heartbeat. “Not all of them,” he answered eventually, “I haven’t slept with a client in a while. It happens sometimes but usually I don’t think much about it.” “And now you do?” He just hummed nonchalantly, playing with your hair. “They usually don’t come back after I fuck them.” He paused, holding his breath. “Will you come back?” Your heart started to race and you could feel a bright smile spreading over your lips. “For more free tattoos and piercings?” “Oh, yeah, I guess,” he sounded so deflated, the confident tattoo artist suddenly gone. “You idiot,” you giggled, pillowing your head on his sternum so he could see the smile on your lips, “I like you Johnny. I’ll come back if you want me to.” Now he was also smiling, his features softening. “Don’t make jokes like that, my heart is fragile,” he joked, wrapping you up in his strong arms.  

“Which one was your first one?” You asked him when the silence between you stretched while you traced the scales of the dragon that wound around his arm. “My first tattoo?” Johnny shifted around for a while before he showed you his other arm that had all kinds of different designs on it, some in bright colors, some strictly black. “That little guy over here,” he said with a smile on his lips and pointed to a little sunflower at the bend of his elbow, “To remind me to always look at the sun, at the bright side of life.” “It’s cute,” you breathed, touching the yellow petals. “And then it went downhill from there,” he chuckled, “It’s addicting.” “Let’s hope I can stay abstinent.” “What a shame, I’d love to cover you in my art,” Johnny confessed, tilting your face up so he could claim your lips in a kiss. “Maybe one or two more,” you breathed in between kisses, making him chuckle against your lips.

[4dtk]

hi hiiii! could i request movie night with doyoung where things start off sweet but then escalate from there?? perhaps with some undertones of switch!doyoung and switch!reader + him being into breathplay and/or hands caressing the other’s neck (both giving and receiving) if possible <33 btw i love your writing!!

thank u for the kind words! big kudos to this pdf i read up about regarding breath play - hope it's okay anon <3

warnings: fingering, oral (m receiving), breeding kink, unprotected sex, breath play (f and m receiving), riding, praise, vaginal penetration

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI.

your giggles are swallowed by doyoung as he playfully lays kisses on your lips, distracting you from the movie that’s currently playing. you can feel the smile on your skin as his lips trail down to your neck, lingering there as he stares daggers at the movie that he put on. it’s almost amusing to see, but you yourself can’t help but get intrigued by the plot that you don’t notice doyoung’s hand curling into the familiar grip he usually has on your thigh.

you sigh softly when his fingers curl around your neck, feeling around the skin there, caressing the soft, newly washed skin with care that you wouldn’t have guessed those same fingers were the ones to send you into oblivion.

just with doyoung’s chest against your back, you can feel your focus on the movie dwindling bit by bit. the longer he sucks hickeys into your neck and muffles your whimpers with his mouth, the harder you’re finding it to keep your vision and head clear to understand why the protagonist had almost killed her significant other. the clarity in your mind is overtaken by your need to have all of your boyfriend on you, pushing up against him even more before your legs widen.

doyoung hums contently, hand on your neck tightening and loosening that gives you the high. he knows where to place his thumb, cutting off and letting you regain your airflow in a dizzying cycle of repetition. “like that, huh?” you nod against his hand which continues to do just that, the movie becoming mere background noise at this point. with his other, he trails it down to your already spread legs, slipping in between your loose shorts that hardly hid your underwear.

it was a wonder the other members hadn’t mentioned anything yet.

“three seconds, baby, you ready? you know our safe word?” doyoung mumbles in your neck, putting light kisses onto the skin there. gently, his stubborn finger only draws light circles against your pulsating clit, teasing the bundle of nerves under the fabric which already had a dark, wet patch. a chorus of mhm’s and yea’s escape your lips, under the guise of pleasure from his hands alone.

all at once, you gasp upon the immense pressure his fingers apply to your clit, ministrations increasing tenfold while he held your carotids under the pads of his digits for the time he promised. your breaths come out short, a strangled moan escaping once the oxygen rushes back to your brain like a drug, praise falling from doyoung’s lips only spiral you further into his grasp. it’s not that you’d mind.

“good girl,” doyoung grins, rewarding you with a sweet kiss. the movie’s definitely forgotten now, the faint reflection of the laptop showing the filthy way your panties soak through more and more with each move of his fingers. within a swift second, your underwear is swiped to the side to accommodate his fingers where he slips his middle finger in loosely. the other wraps around your tit, where your nipples poke through your shirt — perked up and perfect all for him.

you hum lowly into his embrace, wrapped up all in him that you melt more and more into how his fingers sink into you, collecting your slick as he pumps his hand slowly. you’re not all that impatient, but you could do better with him speeding up a little. “hand sore?” there’s a smirk against your shoulder before he thrusts a little roughly into your sopping cunt, drawing out a lewd mewl from your throat. the torture continues on, where you can hear yourself, the sounds practically bouncing off the small room of the dorms.

“c’mon honey, taste yourself on my fingers.”

you obediently open your mouth, masking your disappointment at the emptiness while taking his finger into your mouth that’s wet from your arousal. everything’s incredibly slow and intimate and gentle, like how doyoung… sometimes is. you can’t get this new version of him out of your head, though, tender in his touches, but sultry in his words.

you can compare it to the maple syrup you had this morning, to the sugary kisses you shared in the bathroom, or even the tempting bead of pre-cum leaking from his tip. the taste wasn’t so much, but you didn’t mind the liquid lingering on your tongue. your own pleasure’s put to the side when you’d pulled down his briefs earlier, ignoring the throbbing need to be touched. you couldn’t just leave your baby hanging, anyway.

“hhaah... fuuuck…” your tongue swirls around his tip like a lollipop, providing just the tease that he’s done to you before. slowly, you lower your mouth onto his length which prompts a hand to shoot up to your head of hair, clutching onto it to guide your head up and down. you let doyoung control the pace, who can’t help but call your name like a prayer as your cavern sucks him in so well just like your cunt does.

hands wandering seem to be the standard for you, tangling in his hair when you’re locking lips. travelling over his stomach when your cuddling. even now, you can’t keep your hands locked in one place, going over his thighs in sensual circles that’s interrupted by the waist band of his briefs. you don’t mind, relaxing your jaw to take in more of him until his cock meets the back of your throat.

doyoung groans at that. a switch goes off in him — he decides that he can’t wait to feel you around him, beckoning with a tilt of head.

“bet you’re still tight, even though we fucked this afternoon.” you giggle at that, waiting for him to shrug off the last of his briefs before sinking down onto him with ease with a spread of your pussy lips. even with your juices, you can’t help but let out a whine at the satisfying stretch, before you start rocking your hips.

he takes the back seat, an arm behind his head while the other holds your hips, squeezing the meat of your ass. your hands are ambitious again, travelling up the expanse of his slim, pale body before they land on his neck. the tables aren’t turned over entirely, but you know what doyoung gives, he likes to receive it too. locating his carotids like he’s taught you, your thumb presses mildly onto the side of his neck.

“that feel good?” his mewls are all you can make out.

doyoung’s eyes roll back and you almost halt your hips for a moment to enjoy to sight, but the way his dick moves against your gummy walls is just too gratifying that you can’t bring yourself to stop. you’re mindful of the lewd noises coming from in between your thighs, although it only fuels your need to feel him drilling into you faster, and so you’re taking the reigns, setting the pace.

there’s the continuous routine of grind, squeeze, whine that it comes natural to you after a few times, although the last one didn’t really matter in that intoxicating cycle. “god, your cock feels so good- shit…” doyoung’s whimpers only spur you on, with the constant release and cut-off of oxygen that provides him with the unexpected jerk of his hips. soon you’re meeting his hips with yours.

“should i c-cum in you? wanna be… ahn- full of my cum?” doyoung manages to get out through the blur of pleasure, eyes fixating on the way your mouth drips with drool and his pre-cum. you’re filled up to the brim, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix that you shiver against his thighs. “you’re not- fuck- answering me baby,” the hand on his neck goes limp as the knot in your stomach tightens and tightens, barely answering his question with a pathetic nod.

“yes… yes, please-“ you’re not even sure what you’re begging for at this point but you can’t complain when doyoung spills his seed deep into your pussy, filling you up even when his thrusts turn sloppy. he fucks you thoroughly, bringing on your own orgasm as you convulse around him, twitching violently on his cock while your throat suffers from the last bit of your needy moans.

the sensitivity hurts, but you still find yourself letting a choked moan escape when doyoung snaps his hips back into your clenching hole that makes a satisfying pap!, stuffing the cum that’s leaking back into you. “you did so well.” you smile weakly; the words has both your heart and pussy fluttering at the praise, knowing you’re in for another round when he flips you over with newfound strength. “but now i’ll take over.”

[i-am-the-ass-admiral]

quiet worship

benny miller x gn!reader

tags: smut (18+ please), feelings, tenderness, morning sex, penetrative sex, no explicit descriptions of reader parts (when i saw gn i mean it lol), adoring benny, soft benny, switch benny if you squint, praise, established relationship, pretty much pwp but it’s so soft omfg, hand appreciation, touching, kissing, 

notes: posted late, sorry for errors

length: ~2.9k

--

You wake slowly, warm and saccharine. Crisp morning light reflected off the snow outside spills over long limbs tangled with yours but you don’t see it yet. A dream leaves you wound tight, aching and wanting and almost ready to rut against the thick thigh between yours but you leave it off. At least for now. Eyes closed, you take a long, deep breath. Everything smells familiar. Like faint ozone as the space heater kicks on, like fresh cotton sheets. Salt and earthy masculine soap and sleep-warm skin. For a moment, you hold the scent in your lungs, content to exist with it for a while. When you let it out, your body relaxes. Somehow molds into the broad chest under your arm. You tuck in your cheek, a familiar steady heartbeat threading faintly to your ear. It’s almost enough to lull you back to sleep except the body under yours stiffens with a light gasp and you open your eyes.

When you look up at him, Benny’s face still seems impassive. Strands of hair stick up in places or fall over his eyes and just underneath you can make out the faintest line between his brows. Gently and without a thought, your fingers circle where they lay. Nonsensical patterns that slowly but surely draw Benny back to your world. Like you, like a mirror his first instinct as he wakes is to breathe deep. You smile to yourself and distantly wonder who learned it from whom. Then those eyes—oh, those eyes—blink open and catch the morning light and just like that, he smiles. 

“Creeper,” he teases, and you huff. Nothing smart to say as his sleep-rough voice skates down your skin. “You watchin’ me sleep?”

He curls his arm around you and pulls you close even though you pinch his side. 

“For like two seconds,” you smile back. “You’re not that pretty.”

Benny’s soft look breaks into a full grin and his chuckle makes you bounce. 

“Liar. ‘M gorgeous.”

You rolls your eyes but kiss his chest. “Every day of the week and it makes you a huge pain in the ass.”

You can see some of that familiar fire sparking in Benny’s eye as his brain comes back online. 

“Sounds like someone woke up ’n the wrong side of the bed. Those’re fightin’ words,” he drawls.

That drawl brings back your dream. The same tone that ended up muffled in your neck, taunting and teasing as he thrust into you and your fingers dug into his broad back. Just the vague memories are enough to make your thighs tighten involuntarily. Without fail, Benny can pick up what you want—usually without a clue otherwise but that was probably a dead giveaway. Or maybe it’s the black overtaking your eyes, the sharp edge to your smile, the growing heat at the crux of your hips—whatever it is, Benny sees it. And he’s never been one to shrug off a rousing morning round. 

“Oh you do got a little fight this mornin’, don’t you?” he teases, pinching your leg where he can reach it. He tosses his chin in that familiar way that drives you crazy and says, “C’mon darlin’, you want in the ring?”

You snort, “You’re ridiculous,” but it’s the invitation you were hoping for so you untangle yourself and slide up over his hips as he pushes the blanket down. While he’s not wrong, sometimes you do like to fuck like Benny fights, this morning isn’t that morning. Something about it feels fragile and soft and you want Benny to feel that too. For all his hard edges, there’s a molten core to him—he just needs a little direction to find it. 

In the beginning, it took a while for you to be comfortable on top but Benny—sweet man—built you up as far as you needed. It’s in the way his bright blue eyes widen and the sort of breathless smile that spills out of him—it’s all the encouragement you need. He’s half-hard behind you already, and his eyes flit avaricious over every inch of you. If you let him, he’d take you as hard and as fast as you want. Or, if he’s feeling particular, as hard and fast as he wants and christ do you see stars then. The trick is to get him to follow when you want something slow and sweet. 

So, lead by example. 

His hands lay wide and warm over your thighs, grip tight already, but you pry him loose and thread your fingers together. He doesn’t look confused like you thought he might, just pleased to be under you. Happy for contact. Then you flatten one of his hands back against your thigh and take the other higher. Bring him to your lips and kiss the pad of each finger. You watch him from under your lashes, wondering if he likes what he sees, catch as his lips parts and a soft needful sigh escapes him. The sound sparks warm embers in your stomach. He presses against your lips with his index finger, asking entry. You refuse. Not yet, anyway. Instead you flatten his palm against your face and nuzzle your cheek in his grip. God, the length of his hand spans from your chin to your ear and it makes you so warm. Unsteady. Almost formless save for the shape his hand gives you. Hot emotion rises in your throat and for a moment you close your eyes again and breathe—in and out, nice and slow, enjoying his quiet adoration until you feel solid again. 

This is one of the only times Benny is quiet. You cover his hand with your own and drag him lower, so his fingers trace the column of your throat and the top of your chest. Normally Ben is full of stories. Vivacious. Filled to the brim with potent emotion both good and bad. You’ve gone with him through so many of those feelings it’s almost second-nature to you now to anticipate how he would react to something. But this…you never got used to. Like this, when you lead, he falls into a kind of quiet awe that leaves you trembling. How do you hold something like that in your grasp? How can you even begin to plumb the depths of hushed worship that stare back at you when you catch his eyes?

The answer is you can’t. Sometimes it’s even overwhelming—Benny will give all that you ask, all that he has—all you can do now is guide his hand lower. You pinch your nipple with his fingers and gasp softly and that calls his other hand to your waist without instruction. Answering your unspoken desire. Covering each of his hands with one of your own, you let him roam wherever he might and guide him in turn. Silently, your head falls back and your eyes close. Why look at anything now when you could feel it instead? Callouses catch in your skin, fingers grasp, tease, somewhere along the line you lose yourself in the feeling. Drunk on the texture of his hands and the timbre of his voice as he lays praise at your feet.

“So pretty like this,” he says. “Love how you feel, darlin’ can I have you?”

You can’t answer with words but you can nod. One of his hands leaves and you immediately miss the heat of it but the way he spreads the other and touches you from throat to groin is enough to keep you distracted. Long fingers avoid the place you want him most—part of you is thankful, part impatient. Between the two of you, there’s not much patience to be found at this point. There’s the drag of a drawer, a click and a shuffling of sheets but it’s not until Benny adjusts his legs and you feel his cock stiff and hot against your ass do your eyes open again. 

He’s there—open and wanting as he always is. But there’s a hint of vulnerability, something doleful and tender in those blue eyes that leaves you breathless. 

“Can I?” he pleads, and it’s only then you catch the slickness coating the fingers that left you. 

“Please.”

It’s been so long together and still he asks (begs) like it’s the first time. You move at the same time—he reaches for you as you reach for him—but he finds you first. A tug; you fall forward. Plant your hands on his chest and lift your hips for him and long, thick fingers slide slick into place where you’re aching for him. 

“Benny…” You draw his name out low and slow somewhere between a whisper and a moan. “Ah, god—” 

“That’s it, baby—” He works you open by rote, all your pieces memorized; urges, “c’mon, you can take me, can’t you?”

It’s as close to begging as he’ll get for now—though if you wanted to hear it you know how to make him beg so prettily—but it’s more than enough for you. You scramble for the lube he found, slick him up just enough to ease the slide and sink down onto him as slow as you can.

Christ, he’s so much. You should’ve let him open you more. Should’ve let his hands do the work instead of falling for the wrecked sound of his voice, but a part of you likes the way it hurts at first. It’s tightness and pressure and it builds in your gut until you’re seated flush against his hips and he’s grit his teeth so hard you could almost hear it. His heart pounds under your hands and his thighs shake but he waits, oh he waits—

“Good boy,” you whisper, “thank you, baby. So good for me.” He whines in the back of his throat, hips twitch and you hiss. “Be patient for me.”

And he is. Patient, just like you asked. Until you give an experimental thrust and just that alone has him throwing his head back into the pillows. God, the line of his neck exposed and taut looks too good—you set your teeth and suck mark after mark into his skin. Wait long enough in-between to see how pretty the purple blooms; by the end you’ve bitten a garden and he’s trembling. You kiss him, finally, despite the morning breath and all—it’s worth it for the desperate way his tongue draws you in and only when you’ve tasted the way he needs you now do you move. 

He moans your name like a poem. Soft and repetitious, sprinkled with praise and curses as you take him in and out over and over. The pace is maddeningly slow for both of you but you can feel his restraint in the way he quivers, how he grits his teeth and hisses, and you have to make it worth it for that. If you were to ask Benny, he would say it’s always worth it, no matter how he gets to have you. But oh, for his patience, he deserves something good. Aching, slow, you clench and squeeze and thrust until your legs begin to feel like jelly and you’re closer to the edge than you thought you’d be by now. But it’s the morning. It’s how he holds you in his eyes, how his hands grip your hips or tease or pinch that finally pulls you apart.

“Benny, baby,” you pant, “more, more please—”

You don’t even get to finish asking; he’s dying to fill you, take you, give you everything you want. He plants his feet behind you and the tension in him has wound so tight he almost dislodges you with his first thrust. You groan high and sharp and he does it again and suddenly that’s all you can feel, all you can think. More more more Ben please there—maybe you say it out loud, maybe you don’t. You’re not sure of anything except the heat and breadth of him inside you—the sound of sex and the nonsense coming out of your mouth and Benny’s worshipful silence. The edge is so close, it’s right there, you just need something to take you over but you don’t know what and you can’t think to ask; too cock-drunk and desperate for anything Ben will give you to give it a name. 

But Benny—clever boy—he knows. 

God even the look of him leaves you undone, and he knows it. His head tips back but body strains up toward you as if he wants nothing more than every inch of contact you’ll give him. Without a word, he pulls you down for another kiss. Bites at your bottom lip and savors the way you moan and slips a hand between your bodies to join his cock. Your hips stutter as he strokes you with perfect pressure, tearing you apart inside and out with sure hands and steady rhythm. 

“Ohhh—” So much. “—just like that Benny baby please—” It’s exactly what you needed; smart clever sweet man he knew just what you needed. “—right there, don’t stop, Benny ahhn hah—”

“Fuck,” he growls, drags you down and into his mouth, his molten center finally melding with yours, “fuck, are you gonna come for me sweetheart? Let me make a mess a’ you?”

It’s that—god it’s exactly that and his tongue and hands and cock splitting you open and the desperate worship on his face that finally sends you reeling. You want him to make a mess of you; you don’t ever want to be clean again, not if it means you can keep him like this. Pleasure pulses through you in waves, shaking you to your core; toes curling, body dripping—you scream with it. Tears bite the corners of your eyes. You curse in tandem, a hoarse crescendo punctuated with each deep, perfect thrust. 

You writhe, desperately, embarrassingly, but the way Benny moans and thrusts unerringly into your heat sets you alight with ecstasy. Pleasure knots tight in your core, zips out to every extremity, the tips of your toes and fingers and lips. So hot you’re sure your kisses must burn him. Your body bucks mindlessly, bows into him for all the contact he craves, a glorious pressure and heat—

His voice breaks over your name and you feel him empty inside you. He buries himself in one last-ditch thrust, crushing you tight to his body as you quiver and shake and clench in your aftershocks and god feeling him so deep and so hot is almost enough to send you over again. You’re on another plane, flying high above your joined bodies but it’s the beat of his heart and the sound of his breath and the touch of his hands that gentle you back down to find him waiting. As you slump into him, his arms curl around you and he holds you there. You’re not sure how long—you’re still reeling—but he cradles you with all the tenderness in the world. Presses your foreheads together and strokes your back as his hips (and yours) finally roll to a stop. Spent and exhausted. 

When your eyes flutter open you find him waiting there. Big pretty blue depths waiting to swallow you whole. Without a second thought, you brush the hair from his forehead and fall in. Kiss him soft and long and slow. His fingers thread along the back of your neck and he seems content to stay buried inside you until you say otherwise. You’d let him, too. For as long as he wanted, if he asked. That’s somewhat frightening, the implications of it all, but it’s something you’re learning to accept. You love him—sometimes it’s just easier to show than to tell. 

When at last you pull away from his kiss, you find you can’t meet those eyes again. Not yet. Something hot and tight chokes your throat and you bury your face in the crook of his neck instead. Silently begging for him to understand. 

And—without fail—he does. You can feel some of his concern in the way his arms wrap around you again but he pets your hair and lets you feel for as long as you need. And from the way his heart still pounds against yours, you know he’s right there with you. Faithful to the end. At last you let out a long satisfied sigh and slide off his hips back to the spot at his side you’d left behind. 

“Helluva wake up call,” he teases, voice light but careful. 

“Couldn’t help myself,” you smile, tracing the line of his jaw. “You’re in my dreams then here in person all gorgeous like this—it’s all your fault.”

He laughs and kisses your fingertips when they stray too close to his mouth and you feel the last of the tension drain out of him. 

“Yeah, guess I had that comin’.”

“Well…it’s not all your fault.” You pause, stuck in a moment of vulnerability, but you keep your smile. Benny deserves to hear it. “I do love you, I’m sure that has something to do with it.”

It sounds flippant—you don’t mean it that way—but Benny’s face breaks into the widest grin you’ve seen in days. 

“Ass,” he chuckles. His soft melted center heats him all the way through, a pleased pink dusting his cheeks above his goofy smile as he murmurs, “I love you, too.”

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

A Siren Song

Pairing: Robert Dubois/ Bloodsport x Reader

A/N: so I just finished watching the new Suicide Squad for the second time and I’m even more obsessed now than I was the first time I watched it. It’s a brilliant film with actually good humor, a non-sexualizing and actually empowering view on Harley Quinn (that leg scene?? y'all-), the rats?? Rat-catcher 2?? THE SHARK?? FLAG?? Who looked really good in this movie, he might be another contender for a story as well as Harley Quinn so lmk ;) but Bloodsport immediately piqued my interest because it’s Idris Elba and he’s gorgeous, I loved the complexities of his character and I want to write for him and no one else has done it yet?? so shoutout to @honey-im-emotional​​ for the support and push to do it! also love The Bodyguard movie, helped with the inspo <3 and i’m so sorry all of my stories are similar but I HAVE A TYPE enjoy and feedback is always appreciated loves and there will be SPOILERS so be warned, also if you want a Harley one next lmk ;) (it’s so long I’m so sorry lol)

Summary: You’re a highly targeted member of the royal family, the last in your line. Bloodsport is hired to be your bodyguard to both watch and assassinate the men after you. He believes it’s below his pay-grade, but reluctantly agrees, doing so to the best of his abilities. But the closeness brings more intimacy than you two expected, and sparks fly.

Warnings: foul language, sexual content, smut, choking, light bdsm, fluffy fluff, dirty dancing, dirty talk, violence and bad guys getting murdered, mentions of Harley x Reader (y’all sexy dance and kiss), reader likes women, dom! Bloodsport, age gap, alcohol consumption, jealousy, heavy kissing, slight angst, just a good time honestly

Word Count: 3,825

You dangle from the ceiling with your aerial silk, fitting your leg in the loop you’ve created, and dangling upside down. The rope wraps around your waist as you hang gracefully from your marble walls, flying. Your friend Harley Quinn taught you how to do this years ago, it now being your favorite form of exercise and relaxation when you need a moment to clear your head. 

As you lightly spin, twirling and dancing in the air with your chandelier reflecting light everywhere, a dazzling fairy floating in a sea of stars. You hear footsteps approach and move to hang upside down, facing towards the grand door. Robert Dubois, a.k.a Bloodsport, walks forward to stand directly in front of you. 

You have known him a few weeks or so now, him having to watch your every move and tracking down your family’s killers. He stands and meets your eyes as you dangle, hair falling below you.

“Hi,” you giggle, face flushed with heat. “I probably look ridiculous right now.”

He composes himself so he doesn’t crack a smile, but you see his lips twitch when he speaks, “No, Mrs. y/l/n.”

“I have a first name, you know,” you grin widely. “I’m younger than you, which hardly warrants such a professional title.”

“My apologies, y/n,” he fixes himself.

“It’s alright,” you ease, filling him with a sense of softness he hasn’t felt in a long time. You flip and land on your feet, letting go of your silks. 

You don’t notice as his eyes glaze over your body in your sports bra and shorts, something his cold, calculated stare should never succumb to, but he does anyway and he kicks himself for doing it. You’re his client and should therefore remain as such, no conflict of interest or thoughts other than to protect. He didn’t want this job, hell, he still doesn’t know why he said yes. Maybe it was the money. Or maybe it was upon seeing you that first time, in that star-studded gown the night of a charity gala you were attending, the way the diamond littered fabric hung over your figure, absolutely dazzled. The way you looked at him and smiled, like you were used to with all the other nobles and adoring fans. But he let himself believe it was different.

He can’t do that anymore, however, because he can’t allow for any complications. And falling for his boss is certainly a complication. 

You look at him and your eyes widen with realization, “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me cover up.”

You grab a tee shirt and toss it over your exercise clothes. He looks down as you do so and clears his throat. This brings a small smile to your face.  

“You called me in here,” he gestures to the necklace charm hanging around your neck that you can squeeze and send an instant distress signal whenever you need it. “What can I do for you, y/n?”

“Wanted you to spot me,” you tease, a smile overtaking your delicate features. You have a sort of stunning beauty about you that takes him by surprise every time he lays eyes on you. Which is often. You lay on your yoga mat and sit up straight with that same damned smile. 

“I’m here to do a job, y/n,” he says, his deep, honeyed voice coating the way he says your name like heat to sugar. “Not aid you in your workout routine.”

“What? Your assassin training didn’t include sit ups?” you smile, tongue in cheek.

“No, but if you need a way to kill a man with a book,” he presses a foot over both of yours as you begin to do sit ups. “Then I’m your man.”

“Yeah, you and John Wick,” you breathe out with a laugh. “And shouldn’t you be in here watching me already? Not by the door?”

“This room has no windows and no other door or entrance besides the one I was standing by. I thought you would want privacy,” he averts your gaze. “I’m sure it’s a hard thing to come by these days for a woman like yourself.”

You stop what you’re doing and look up at him, blinking, “Well, you’d be right,” you tuck your hair back. “So thank you.”

He meets your eyes, bordering on a smile, “You’re welcome.”

“Is that a smile I see?” you chuckle.

The smile shines, “It was a diversion. And you failed.”

You laugh loudly, “Will the next diversion be an actual laugh?”

“Wouldn’t be a proper diversion if you knew what it was.”

You tap his feet so he’ll get the hint and let you up. You rise to your feet and dust yourself up, “I appreciate your spotting.” You press a hand to his chest and hum. Warmth radiates from your palm and he inhales sharply. “For someone who wasn’t trained, you sure are a fast learner.”

He looks at your hand and back to your eyes, heat sprouting from where your hand touches. His hand flexes at his side as he looks around the room, to the door, seeing if it’s closed. 

“I-” he cocks an eyebrow then settles. “I think I should go.”

He watches you look at him with wounded eyes, brow lowered, you open your mouth then close it. 

You nod, moving away from him, “Right.”

You move to walk away when he stops you, mouth by your ear, voice dropping an octave when he whispers, “Just so you know-” you tilt your head up almost instinctively to hear him better. “-my assassin training did include reminding people who they are when they’ve forgotten their place.”

You look up at him fully now, “You work for me, remember?”

“I work for money. And you didn’t hire me. I was employed by Mrs. Waller to keep you alive,” he cocks his head slightly. 

“So it would be frowned upon by her when you’re unable to walk if you touch me like that again.”

You couldn’t believe he had just said that. Your eyes widen and your cheeks once again heat up, blushing. Your chest gets hot when he doesn’t break the stare like he’s calling your bluff, and fuck, did he do just that. You turn away from him.

You can hear the smile in his voice, “That’s what I thought.”

~~~

“Robert said that!?” Harley exclaims, eyes wide. Her jaw is dropped as she does her mascara aggressively in the mirror. “He’s usually so...”

You tug down your tiny halter top over your head, your bright, flattering makeup complementing the colorful swirling pattern, “An empty void with no emotion?”

She nods emphatically, agreeing, “Exactly! I had no idea he had it in him?” she raises her brow and smooths down her leather black and red dress, “Or that he wanted to put it in you-”

You slap her arm, chastising, “You don’t know that. It might have been a threat to actually paralyze me in a very not sexual way.”

“I say both are arousing,” she shrugs, platinum curls bouncing.

You roll your eyes with a small smile aimed at the floor, “Anyway-” you slip a belt through your tight jeans, hitting at your waist when you cinch it in. “We should get going if we want to get to the club on time.”

She pauses. “Y/n. Are you sure we should be doing this?”

You do a double take, “You’re telling me that we shouldn’t sneak out and have a good time?”

“I know the irony is apparent,” she looks at you with a knowing stare. “But not if it means you’re in danger. Which you are.”

“I know,” you frown. “But I’ve been locked in this house for months, I miss going out and having a life. I’m tired of being coddled.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she sighs, looking past herself in the mirror to flash me a sympathetic smile. She thinks for a beat and finally spins around, “Alright, screw it, doll, let’s go paint the town.”

You buzz with excitement, grinning, “Yay! Thank you, thank you! I wonder who will be djaying...” you trail off. 

Harley’s face falls and her mouth goes in a solid, straight line, looking past your shoulder, “I don’t think anyone will be.”

You laugh, completely oblivious, “Of course there will be. There has to be music. Dancing in silence would be pretty fucking awkward.”

“This moment is pretty fucking awkward.”

“What do you mean?”

A deep, irritated voice sounds off behind you, “Because you’re not going.”

You jump out of your skin, “Shit, Robert! You scared the hell out of me!”

“You’re not going to that club,” he folds his arms over his chest. You look over him and his casual, night wear: a loose tee and low hanging joggers. You almost wipe your mouth from salivating. Your outfit elicits the same reaction.

You pinch your eyebrows together, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I can. I’m tasked with protecting you.”

“Yeah. And nowhere on your job description does it say ‘become my parent’. There’s not an opening now just because I don’t have one. I am a grown ass woman and I have been a prisoner in my own home. The same home where...” you pause, a lump in your throat at the reminder of your family’s passing. You shake it off, “I’m just tired. I want a piece of my life back. You can either stay here or come. Either way I’m going.”

He gives you a quick once over and contemplates his options before dropping his arms to his sides and letting out a long exhale.

“Fine.”

You somewhat relax at his defeated tone, “Fine, what?”

He relents, “You can go, but I’m coming with you. But if anything happens to you, I’m not to be blamed. I will leave your ass in that club.”

You grin and jump up to give him a tight hug around the neck. He stiffens before slowly rubbing your back. You sink into his embrace, feeling like you were floating in water, now above the surface as he brings you back to oxygen. Harley smiles at the exchange and she winks theatrically. 

He glares. 

It’s not long before you three arrive at the club, music blaring and colorful lights flashing over the crowded floors. From his stare and intimidating aura, the club staff thought he was a bouncer and let you all in immediately. But before he was roped into working, the three of you bee-lined to the bar. 

“The prettiest and strongest drink ya got, sugar,” Harley smiles at the pretty bartender.

“And what if that’s me?” she responds, ebony hair falling onto one shoulder.

“Then I’ll have to drink you later,” Harley gives her a flirty once over and you roll your eyes.

The bartender grins and gestures towards me for my order, I answer quickly, “Scotch on the rocks.”

Robert looks at you, poorly covering his shocked expression. “Really?”

“Yeah, why?” you look up at him.

“Didn’t peg you for a straight liquor type, Ms. y/l/n,” he finally lets his hidden laugh show through, butterflies erupting in your chest. The diversion definitely worked, whatever you were thinking about before this has immediately left you.

“Then this is going to be the first surprise of many tonight, Mr. Dubois,” you return the smug look as he orders the same thing. You both share a look.

The bartender slides you all your drinks, each of you taking a long swig for liquid courage for the night. Harley’s favorite Doja Cat song comes on and she gasps, clapping excitedly when she grabs you by the wrist, pulling you on the dance floor, “Come dance with me.”

You mouth a small ‘sorry’ to Bloodsport who you left at the bar, he shakes his head with a smile over the rim of his glass, watching you guys’ drinks. 

She dances wildly, jumping up and down, spinning to let her hair fall in many beautiful angles. She’s a powerful force and your greatest friend. She puts her arms around your neck and the two of you move in time with the music.

“So...” she motions to Bloodsport who’s being forced into a conversation with a woman at the bar. The woman puts her hand on his and he visibly shrinks back and whispers something to her that causes the most horrid look from the woman and for her to walk quickly away. You smile at the relief that interaction has brought you.

“So what?” you spin her around and pull her back.

“Quit with the good dancing, or I’m gonna fuck you myself,” she teases with a lightheaded giggle.

You smile, “We’ve tried that already, remember?”

“Too much history, I know, I know. Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice...” she whispers into your neck, kissing the soft spot under your chin. Your skin heats up under her touch as she drags her hands down your sides, pulling you close to her so that you’re flush against her chest.

You give into her and kiss her slowly, her soft lips melt into your own when her hands tug in your hair. Harley and you have always had a complicated friendship, with enough sexual attraction to fuel a nuclear bomb, but not enough romantic. You love each other but not in the way you both need. You were in love with Robert and she is continuing to explore her sexuality because she likes women and so do you. So as she trails her hot mouth down your neck in the middle of dozens of bustling bodies and you lock eyes with an angry Bloodsport, you knew exactly what she was doing.

You whisper, out of breath, “Are you trying the jealousy trick?”

“It worked in college, didn’t it?” she kisses your cheek, smiling gently against your skin. “And it’s working now.”

“I think you’re just obsessed with kissing me,” you kiss her back.

“It was a win-win situation, doll,” she grins devilishly and you can’t help but agree. “So when you’re done with him, come see me. But right now, I have a sexy bartender lady to drink up.” You grip her hand and let her make her way to her next conquest.

Robert had seen the tail-end of your kiss, his deft fingers clenched around his whiskey glass. He knows he shouldn’t let this sort of thing affect him, something as juvenile and simple as jealousy. But he couldn’t stop that feeling of being stuck, unable to think about anything except the fact that it wasn’t him with his hands on you like that, lips marking you as much as he pleases. Sadness washed over him in a tidal wave and he set his glass down, about to get up to leave when he spotted a man eyeing you from the door. He looked familiar and it wasn’t just attraction he sensed in his eyes but something far more sinister.

A few more men followed suit and began making their way to you in the middle of the dance floor. He had no time to consider the facts, just to get you out of there as soon as possible. 

You feel a rough hand tug your arm and turn to face who you think to be Dubois, you smile, “Enjoy the show?”

“Very much,” an unknown voice answers, and you look up, eyes wide. “Now why don’t you come with me for a little talk, beautiful.”

“Get the fuck off of me,” you yank your arm back, slamming your heel down into the perpetrator’s foot. More men surround you on all sides, making it impossible for you to escape or use your subpar martial arts skills. Aerial yoga was a very different ballpark than kicking ass. And you were just a beginner.

You poorly punch a man in the face, only making them all angrier when you’re grabbed from all sides, being dragged towards the exit kicking and screaming. You didn’t want to be that helpless damsel in distress, but as all of these men, men you recognized from your family’s death, were surrounding you, you couldn’t breathe. Their hands felt familiar, grabbing your arms like they’d done that night before you hid in the secret door in the dining room. You had watched these faceless men through a hole in that door, stifling your cries when bullets sprayed the room your family was having dinner in. So while they were coming after you and pulling you outside, it’s all you felt. That same feeling when he wasn’t near.

Drowning.

There’s a hand that pulls you back and you watch, dazed, as Bloodsport puts every man who touched you on the ground. It’s filled with swift yet aggressive and barbaric movements, controlled, expert chaos and it happens within moments. His chest is heaving when he looks down at you and scoops you up in his arms. You’d object in any other circumstances, but this time, head against his chest and tucked in his arms, you were okay.

His voice rumbles against your side, “We’re going home.”

~~~

Harley’s tears hit your shoulder as you sympathetically pat her back.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I shouldn’t have left,” she sniffles loudly. “I should’ve been there.”

You laugh softly, fitting your head into her shoulder, “It’s okay, Harls. It’s not your fault, there was no harm done.”

“There could have been,” she sighs. “I’m not letting you convince me to go out next time, you’re staying here forever.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, “Alright.”

She gets up and sniffs, wiping at her nose that’s now flushed from crying, “Good because I’m serious.”

“I know,” you laugh again, hugging yourself in a hoodie much too large for you, (because you stole it from Rick Flagg) swallowing you whole. 

Your eyes wander down the hall to where Robert is no doubt pacing around in your bedroom, the only room not laden with cameras (ironically for privacy). You kick at the floor in your fuzzy socks and think of an excuse to go check on him, even though you’re probably the last person he wants to see right now. You, frankly, don’t care.

“I’m gonna go-” 

“Check on Robert?” she finishes. “I know, honey. I was a psychiatrist, I’m not stupid.”

You crack a smile and grip her arm affectionately as you walk past her towards the bedroom. You don’t even take the risk of knocking for fear he’ll lock it and try your luck with just simply opening it. You see him, shirtless with a towel over his shoulder, a low hanging towel wrapped around his waist, while nursing his knuckles. He looks you over once you enter the room, trained eyes on you and the intimidation is definitely working already when he takes the damp towel on his shoulder and dabs the cuts on his skin.

He remains silent and you move to sit down on your bed, the awkward squeak filling the already high-tension atmosphere, thick enough to make your ears pop like you’re in an airplane too far up in the sky.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, drawing his eye. 

He hums and steps into your bathroom, washing off his hands. 

You frown at his lack of response, “Are you really going to pout this whole time? Because honestly, it’s beneath you, Robert.” You lean forward, watching as he walks out of the bathroom, still half naked, still silent. 

The silence is beginning to slowly kill you, especially when he looks this good, water droplets running down his chiseled torso from a hot shower. You didn’t let your mind wander because if the reaction your body is giving from the image before you was any indication, you want him. He walks in the room once again, mouth in an amused yet firm line. 

In actuality, he was ashamed of himself. Not so much of you. He would’ve left as that despair overcame him back in that bar. He would’ve left you there and abandoned his mission, leaving you to be hurt. If it hadn't been for those men, you could’ve been killed and it would be his fault. He alerted Waller of the attack, making up a lie about the two of you going for a walk at night and getting ambushed there rather than at a club. There’s a hit on each of those men being taken out as we speak as well as a search for their boss. Even though that still got him chewed out. He couldn’t imagine what she’d do to him if she found out the truth.

Robert walks slowly towards you, leaning against the bed frame, gesturing for you to continue. You watch him, distracted, as he wraps a bandage around his knuckles.

“I shouldn’t have kissed her to get a rise out of you, that was hurtful,” you exhale your words, quiet enough he wouldn’t be able to hear you if you weren’t within a breath of one another. You hang your head, “And it was stupid to go out in the first place when I am in this much danger. I could’ve been killed, and you could have been hurt. I’m sorry.”

He represses a laugh at the idea of him getting hurt, when the two of you both know that would never happen. But as the silence from him grows thicker, the more you start to ramble.

“Okay, this silent treatment isn’t going to work for much longer. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you need to stop.”

He gives you a look that says ‘make me’. But you both know you couldn’t if you tried, and vice versa. He thinks of you as a siren, one of those alluring creatures in old sailor tales that lured unsuspecting men to their painful deaths. As if he has no control of the way he feels about you. Which in a way he does, but he knows better. He knows better than to fall under your enchanting song, but he can’t help but be pulled beneath the surface of the water. 

Robert tenses when you move forward and the hoodie falls off one of your shoulders, revealing more of your chest, the smooth skin that lays there. 

His chest tightens when you look up at him and sigh.

“But thank you for saving me,” you say, both because you think that’s what he wants to hear but also because you mean it, you wouldn’t be here at all if he didn’t come with you.

He licks his lips and nods his head in simple recognition. He appreciated the apology, truly he did, but a part of him enjoyed the way you continued to ramble on, so he remained silent. This was an old interrogation tactic he learned when he served, keeping quiet always got people talking. He looks down at you and leans to meet your face, hands on either side of you. 

“I don’t know what else you wish for me to say,” you admit quietly, fiddling with your hands.

He didn’t know either but whatever you would say, he would listen.

“So I take it you’re not mad anymore?” you infer from his relaxed posture, heart beating out of your chest, fast enough that it catapults to your throat. 

He tilts his head down so he’s an inch before your mouth, breath fanning over your face. when he tugs you up to your feet, hands gripping the sides of your waist when he pulls you close. Your heartbeats began to sync up, chest to chest.

“I’m fucking furious, sweetheart.”

You meet his eyes, looking up in that seductive stare of yours you never knew you were capable of until him, and close the distance, kissing him lightly. His arms falter by your side and it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate, losing his cool. It’s the most gentle thing he’s ever experienced, everything in his life being forced, hostile, and malicious, while your soft lips against his are anything but. You kiss him like he’s not the monster he thinks himself to be. 

“Then let me make it up to you.”

“Fuck,” he grips your sides harder, palm moving to push you closer with his hand flat against the small of your back. “We shouldn’t.”

You search his face for uncertainty, but all you sense is a profound sense of clarity, in the both of you. “I know.”

“Will you regret this?”

You shake your head, hand against his cheek, “No.”

His dark eyes fall to your lips, pupils filling his dark brown irises, lust blown, “You’re so good, baby. You’re too good for me.”

Before you can tease him about the new nickname and object to that, his lips have crashed against your own. His hand slides up to cup the side of your face, drinking you in with his intoxicating kiss. You hum, content, against his feverish mouth and he opens it, vulnerable and on display. You feel his guard still up, tense and calculated, so you rest your hand against his chest. You press a kiss to his eyelid, his cheek, his nose, his chin, his jaw, his neck. He softens beneath you, groaning aloud as his hands tighten. 

“You don’t need to be afraid with me,” you whisper to him, tender fingers trailing down his shirtless chest, hot skin against hot skin. It’s enough to make you sweat.

He exhales and captures your bottom lip with his own, holding your face in both of his hands. The kiss grows heated and rushed, like you’re running out of time, as if at any moment those men would come back and find you and take you away from him again. His tongue expertly works with your own, licking the pout of your bottom lip, and coaxing you open. He slides his hand down between your legs, dipping his finger to find the slick in the middle of your thighs. You moan into his mouth, his other hand at the back of your neck when he buries his face in your shoulder. He kisses you there, the crook where your neck meets your collarbone, that damned sensitive spot. You succumb to his touch. His beard tickles your skin and you gasp when he sucks hard, a bruise forming.

You breathe a laugh, “Everyone will see if you leave a mark,” you tug on his hair when you thread it through his coarse curls. 

He falls under your spell and there’s something so ironically beautiful about this trained assassin with a heart of gold and the scars to show for it, being so open with you.

His hands, his entire life, have been forced to be instruments of death and violence. But as they slide down your figure, holding your face, and pulling you into him, they’re his greatest gift. He’s surprisingly tender with you. 

But then he has enough and pushes you down on the bed, arms trapping you on both sides.

He responds bluntly, “I don’t care.”

You part your legs for him and he releases a shaky breath. He slowly unzips your sweatshirt and it falls off you just as you do the same and tug his towel down. Both of you are bare before the other as you take a moment to drink each other in. You were just as, if not more, beautiful than he imagined you to be. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly as his hand drapes down the line of your figure. He touches you how someone would handle a glass vase filled with flowers. 

You take his face in both of your hands and kiss him, “So are you.” 

“I don’t think you know what you do to me, baby.” His hand finds your breast and squeezes while he kisses your neck.

You moan when he uses his other hand to grip your neck, thumb against your pulse point, “If it’s anything like how I feel right now, then yes, I do.”

He lifts his head up to watch your face as he chokes you, softly so he doesn’t hurt you but hard enough to play with your breath. His thumb opens your mouth and your legs tremble. 

“So I take it you’re into choking, my love?” You nod excitedly, unable to speak, and his grip tightens. 

You let out a squeak and he releases, face etched with worry, kissing your neck where he touched you. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.” 

You shake your head and smile comfortingly, “No, baby, I’m okay. I’ll tap out if it’s too rough, I promise,” you tease.

His grumbling voice deepens, “Good... because, darling, right now all I want to do is bury my face in between those gorgeous thighs of yours.”

You inhale sharply when he opens your legs once again, looking up at you and you nod in consent.

“I need words, beautiful,” he smirks with his mouth just above your center. 

“Yes, please,” you breathe out and he responds with a swift lick to your pussy. He looks up at you and when he catches your eye, it’s as if the sensation grows stronger and your head hits your pillow.

“I’ve barely even touched you,” he mumbles into you and you feel his smug smile in your thigh. His fingers dip into you as he flattens his tongue and crooks them towards himself, you grip your sheets.

“Don’t... flatter yourself,” you sigh out. “I-it’s just been awhile.”

He removes his mouth and fingers from you, “So anyone can make you feel like this?”

You enjoy the feeling you get when he looks at you like that, his eyes dark and dominant, so you play along and nod. “Yes, in fact, I’ve had better.”

He licks his lips and gets up from the bed. He opens his drawer and you sit up to look what he grabs: a belt. Your heart beats excitedly in your chest even though you know you shouldn’t be. He gets back on the bed and climbs over you.

Robert looks at you, “Hands.”

You extend them to him wordlessly, watching as he ties your wrists together and puts them over the bedpost so you’re trapped there, unable to move.

“Now,” he holds himself above you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You’re to stay tied up until I say so, anything like that again and they get tighter. Nod if you understand me.”

You nod emphatically. You had never seen this side of Robert before, so in control and not afraid to go too far, it was so unbelievably sexy. 

The best part was he didn’t tie it tight enough, afraid of hurting you, so you could easily slip out your hands at any moment.

He kisses, painfully slow, down your chest and wraps his lips around your nipple. He swirls his tongue around the erect bud and you gasp, desperate to touch him. He looks up at you from you chest as he switches to the other, massaging the unattended one as he sucks, the pleasurable feeling overwhelming you. So much so you have to clench your thighs together, longing for some sort of relief for the tension building in your abdomen.

“Baby, please,” you whine, squirming beneath him.

He shuts you up with a bruising kiss while his hand slips down to enter you, two fingers in already. He pumps them in and out of you before sliding back down the expanses of your body and letting his mouth latch onto your clit. He sucks hard and you stifle a loud moan that would surely alert everyone in the home of your arousal. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. His tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks. But just before you feel that euphoric release, his actions cease and you’re left hot and flustered. 

“Robert,” you look at him with a deep frown.

He grins, “Y/n...”

You blow hair out of your eyes, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He puts his lips near your ear, “Are you ready?” You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder. 

You finally have enough, slip your hands out, and he pinches his brow, unable to hide his shock before you bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places. He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He was right, it’s the best you’ve ever had. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat. Your hair is in messy tendrils at all angles and you’ve never been more attractive.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises in your ear, placing kisses across your jaw. “Taking my cock so well.”

You whimper and his movements stiffen as he approaches release and so do you, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers. You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, it continues on, leaving you aching and wanting more.

He rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Everything you both have wanted for a long time, laying right in front of you.

“Still want to make me not walk?” you tease, looking up at him.

He kisses your eyelids and you giggle, “Fuck yes.”

Part 2?

[seriouslysnape]

Moonlight Dip

Neville Longbottom x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Sexual content (super brief).

Word Count: 2,588

“We’re going swimming.”

Hogwarts was always desolate and quiet at this time of night. The only person who was supposed to be stirring was Filch, Mrs. Norris, and possibly Professor Snape keeping an eye out for any students who had grown bold enough to break curfew. Most students didn’t bother trying to sneak around the castle at night. Not because they were afraid of getting caught, but because if they DID get caught, they’d have to deal with Filch’s overly strict behavior. Honestly, that was a punishment in and of itself. 

Which was why Neville just couldn’t seem to figure out why you were leading him through the dark corridors, moving like a woman on a mission. You had crept into his dorm around midnight or so, pouncing on his bed and shaking him from his gentle slumber. You barely waited for him to wake up before you were whisper-shouting at him that you had somewhere for the two of you to go. He never minded a surprise visit from you, but he also wasn’t very keen on attempting to slip out undetected. Still, his curiosity won out.

“Hey, uh, flower?” He whispered, not knowing where Filch might’ve been.

“Yes, Neville?” You whispered back, peering your head around the corner to check for anyone coming. 

“Where are we going exactly? And why are you in your robes?” He questioned, feeling a bubble of nervousness in his chest.

Truth be told, Neville felt a little underdressed. He was clad in his pajamas bottoms and an old t-shirt that he only used to sleep in. You looked back at him with a smile, his heart leaping at how beautiful you looked under the illumination of the Lumos you had uttered from your wand. Neville had learned to be more spontaneous after he had begun dating you. You were as sweet and respectful as anyone, but you definitely had a wild side that sometimes shaved some years off of Neville’s life. He wasn’t sure what to think of it at first, but over time he found that he loved all of your silly shenanigans. Even the ones that had gotten you both in hot water before. 

“I told you, Nev. It’s a surprise!” You answered, squeezing his hand that was interlaced in yours, “It won’t be a surprise anymore if I tell you.”

Neville made a puzzled, yet thoughtful look as he racked his brain of possible ideas. He thought that maybe that you were daring to venture to Hogsmeade for a late night snack. Every now and again, you’d convince Neville to help you with sneaking into Honeydukes after hours to snag a few treats (don’t worry, you always left the right amount of money on the counter to pay for it). 

However, his theory was proven wrong when he realized that you were taking him past the courtyard and in the general direction of the Quidditch field. He was glad that it was well into spring now, and the nights were warm with the days. You didn’t play Quidditch though, and neither did he. So he couldn’t fathom why you were headed that way.

“The Quidditch fields are always dark this time of night. There’s no way we’ll be able to see.” Neville pointed out, mumbling under his breath when he almost tripped on a loose rock. 

You turned to look at him again, another smile plastering on your face. 

“Then it’s a good thing that we aren’t going there.” You replied.

Sure enough, you kept walking towards your desired locating, keeping your antsy boyfriend in tow. About the time that Neville had given up on trying to figure out where you were taking him, his question was answered. The lake was always so pretty at night, and tonight was no exception. The moon was only a phase away from being full, but still offering enough light to where the two of you could somewhat see. The reflection bounced beautifully off of the dark lake, creating glittering ripples in the water when it was agitated from it’s still position.

You let go of Neville’s hand once you were standing on the bank, crouching down to untie your shoelaces. Neville stood still, his arms at his side rather awkwardly. He wasn’t picking up on your plan just yet.

“I didn’t know that you like to fish.” Neville said aloud, not bothering to whisper anymore since there was no chance that anyone would be out here.

“I don’t.” You giggled, removing your shoes and socks.

Neville’s eyebrows raised, still oblivious even as your fingertips worked at untying the cord around your robes. Well, he WAS oblivious, until it was literally right in front of his face.

“Then why are we- oh my God, what are you doing?” He cut himself off when your robes fell to the grass, revealing your bra and knickers underneath.

Neville was glad that it was mainly dark outside, because his sudden deep blush would’ve been painfully obvious otherwise. You smirked at the bashful boy who was frozen in place, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

“We’re going swimming.” You announced, reaching for his hand again. 

Except he didn’t take your hand. He wasn’t on board with this idea at all.

“Oh no. No, no, no. I draw the line at swimming naked!” He rattled off, taking a step away from you.

You weren’t offended in the slightest, and you were even rather amused at his skittish behavior. This was nothing new to you.

“I’m technically not naked.” You reminded him calmly.

“You’re in your knickers!” He hissed back, his eyes widening as he actually took a second to look at the lacy material.

“Exactly. Which equals not naked.” You returned, fighting the urge to burst into laughter.

“Nope!” He protested, sitting down on the grass instead, “I’ve defended us for getting caught sneaking off for Chocolate Frogs and breaking into the library at 3 o’clock in the morning. But I will not try to explain why we were in the lake naked.” 

Neville seemed adamant about staying put where he was. He was tempted to get up and leave, but there was no shot in hell that he was going to leave you out here by yourself. He was perfectly fine with sitting off to the side and observing from a safe distance.

“You see me in my underwear all the time, Nevy,” You said, not really believing that the lack of clothes was what he was timid about, “Is it the ‘nakedness’ or the critters that sometimes live in the lake?”

Neville was frightened of a lot of things, and while he tended to love animals, aquatic animals were an exception. Fish and water-based bugs freaked him out for some reason that even you didn’t quite understand. The only animals that lived in and around water that he liked were frogs and toads. The only aspect of the lake that he might enjoy (aside from seeing you wet and half-naked) were the plants that were undoubtedly growing below the surface.

“Maybe both...” He murmured, resting his forearms on top of his knees that were pulled into his chest, “Regardless, I’m staying right here.”

You shrugged your shoulders, believing your intuition that said that he’d be in the water with you in less than fifteen minutes.

“Suit yourself.” You told him before making a graceful entrance splash into the water.

He watched as you plunged in, your entire frame disappearing under the water that looked black due to the inky color of the sky. Neville felt his nerves get fired up when you went under, a slight anxiety in his gut that you might not come back up. The lake wasn’t super deep by any means, only coming up to just below your hip. Neville knew that it was possible to drown in any depth of water, which was why he became a bit on edge.

Thankfully, though, you emerged from below the water before he could get too worked up. He watched with interest when your hands swept your wet hair backwards, slicking it on your head. 

Neville had always found you pretty. He thought you were the most beautiful girl on the planet. While he always thought that you looked stunning, there were still times where it was much more clear to him. For instance, early in the morning when you’ve just woken up is one of his favorites. Or right before a Gryffindor party on Friday nights when you’ve taken extra time to get spiffied up. Seeing you always made his heart beat with a little more purpose. It reminded him of how much he cared for and loved you. 

And this moment now really had him swooning.

His eyes studied as water droplets dripped from your frame, soaking into your underwear and gliding down your beautiful skin. It created a shiny gleam over you, bringing out all of his favorite parts of you. He must’ve fallen into a lusty daze, because he felt himself snap back into reality when you called to him.

“You sure you don’t want to get in?” You spoke, letting your fingertips trail over the surface of the lake.

Neville shook his head in response. 

“I’m good here, tulip. Promise.” He said, still not sure if this was something he wanted to do. 

You never pressured Neville into doing things he didn’t want to do. You never wanted him to be uncomfortable around you or associate discomfort with spending time with you. However, you knew that Neville was a worrier. He was an avid overthinker and sometimes just let his nerves get the best of him. You encouraged him to live a little more, without thinking about every single possible outcome of a situation. It’s great to be cautious and aware, but life without taking some risks could be...boring. You just didn’t want Neville to grow old with you and wish he hadn’t let his head get the best of him.

You swam out towards the middle of the lake, but not so far that you couldn’t see or hear Neville. You floated on your back and played with things that you found on the mushy, sandy floor of the lake. Neville maintained a conversation with you, but found himself feeling tempted to join you. It was just swimming. It wasn’t like the two of you were trying to blow up the lake or anything. 

“How does...how does it feel?” Neville asked, stifling a giggle at how you were bouncing on your feet with your head lolled to the side to get water out of your ear.

“It’s nice. It’s not warm by any means, but it feels good.” You told him, wringing the excess water from your hair, “Changed your mind?”

Neville chewed the inside of his cheek, but he was warming up to the idea.

“I don’t even have a pair of swim trunks with me.” He argued.

You motioned towards your own body with a look of hilarity.

“Oh, and I’m wearing my swimsuit? It doesn’t matter, love. Just take off what you have on.” You instructed, getting hopeful that he was actually going to do it.

Neville stood from where he sat, stripping down to his boxers at a snail’s pace. He folded his clothes neatly, setting them next to your robes that he had also folded previously. He dipped his foot into the water, expecting it to be much colder than it actually was. It was a lukewarm temperature, something that would be refreshing on a hot summer day, but far too freezing for a frigid winter day. For his moderate spring night, it was perfect.

Neville didn’t love how the bottom of the lake felt on his feet. It was a mix of a squishy, gelatinous feeling. You reached for his hands excitedly, taking them as he waded out to where you were standing.

“So, what do you think?” You wondered, careful not to freak him out too much,

“It feels...nice. I don’t think I’ve ever been in this lake,” He admitted, “How did you even come up with this?”

“Well, you told me once that your Gran used to have a little pond behind her house that you liked to swim in during the summer. You said you enjoyed it and I thought maybe this would be something you’d like too,” You explained to him, suddenly feeling insecure about this whole thing, “I know it’s probably not the same or as fun.”

Now things really started to make sense. Neville felt the cage of butterflies flutter all into his belly whenever you did something sweet for him. Especially when it was something with sentimental value. 

Neville had undeniably fallen in love with you. Not because of your witty personality or the random adventures you liked to take him on. Those things were plenty great, and he cherished those things with everything he had. But that wasn’t what made him decide that you were his future. 

It was the pureness of your heart.

He fell for you more and more each time you did something for him. Whether it was as small as you combing your fingers through his hair when he was asleep on your chest in the common room, or as big as the time you devised a plan to throw a surprise birthday party for him at his Gran’s house. No matter what it was, you never hesitated to spend your energy, time, and love on making him happy.

“I did always like that pond, flower. But...you want to know something?” He said smoothly, with just the faintest hint of shakiness in his tone, “This is a lot better.”

He pulled you in close at the sight of your brightening eyes, bringing you down with him as he sank down to his knees under the top of the water.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” You pressed on.

“Because you’re here.” He mewled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

His descent of kisses trailed down to your nose, to your cheeks, to your lips. His kisses were never rushed in moments like this. They weren’t ever in a rush to get to the point or so rough that he didn’t have a chance to feel it. He liked to take his time with you. He liked to savor you.

“I love you, Nev. I really do.” You professed once he pulled away from you.

“I love you, petal,” He returned, going to kiss you again, but stopped when he took a big swash of lake water to the face.

He let out a startled gasp at how he was totally soaked now. It dripped from his hair, droplets rolling to the tip of his nose before falling off back into the lake. He caught your mischievous expression, your cheeks puffed out as you fought your laughter.

“Really funny, doll.” He sputtered, nonchalantly reaching around to your back and unclasping your bra with one hand. He managed to whip it off of you with ease, leaving you completely naked on top.

“Neville!” You squealed, “Give it back! That’s my favorite one!” 

Neville teased you as he held your bra high in the air above his head, chuckling as you struggled (and failed) to get it back.

“Don’t worry, love bug. I’ll take good care of it. But if you want it...” Neville paused, shimmying past you and waddling further out into the lake with a sneaky, yet innocent sneer on his face;

“You’ve got to come and get it.”

*****

Tags: @lupinsslut @writingscape @msmimimerton​ @thefilmcity​

[eunkimmie]

hi! I really liked your sal friends with benefits headcannons and I was wondering if you could do one for larry? :)

larry didn’t think of sex as something that was sacred or that had to be cherished, he just thought of it as a desire. if two people wanted to fuck, so be it. larry thought of himself as a relatively emotional person, even if he didn’t show it all the time. he also knew he wasn’t the worst looking guy out there, he definitely fit into a “type” though. with the long hair occasionally pulled up into a messy bun, the oversized and overworn shirts, loose fitting pants that pooled around his beat up converse with doodles all on the fabric. his tanned skin was even, save for a few patches of acne and some body hair. point is, larry was an attractive guy.

now, there weren’t a whole lot of people in Nockfell that were falling on their knees for him, especially since they knew him as a weird kid in high school, but y’know. tinder was a thing. sometimes he just wanted to chat, or sometimes he did use the app for hookups.

wasn’t much, really. he’d bring someone to his shared house, fuck, then he’d let them choose whether they wanted to stay or leave for the night. maybe if he took a shine to them, offer some weed and cook some shitty eggs for them in the morning.

one day, he matched with you. cute, interesting. and by the way you chatted with him, you didn’t seem too interested in a relationship at the moment either. he invited you over after talking for a day or two, and that was that. you stayed the night, waking to an offer of coffee, maybe some cereal? you agreed, and the two of you sat downstairs laughing. larry was an easy guy to chat with, and almost everyone found that they got comfortable with him and his laid-back nature relatively quickly.

“and what kind of move was that?” you snickered, moving the spoon around in your cereal bowl idly. “i mean, if you’re gonna throw someone on your bed, at least make sure you aim correctly.” he tilted his head back as he let out a boisterous laugh, fist slamming down on the table. “fuck, don’t bring that shit up! sorry for being eager.” the two of you joked like that before you decided it was well time to go home.

after that, larry gradually stopped hooking up with random strangers, and instead turning to you. the both of you were well aware of the relationship and had no issue. but, eventually, the two of you learned that, hey, you actually had some common interests. after a session, you say up in his bed and tried to fix your hair to the best of your abilities after being fucked senseless. “you have a switch?”

“is that a sex question?” he asked, and received a pillow to the chest. “yes, you wanna play something?” you shrugged, pulling a shirt over your chest. he rattled off some names of the co-op games he had, and the two of you had settled on mario kart, cliche as it may be. and of course you beat ass. larry wasn’t a sore loser, instead offering you a lazy smile every time you told him to “eat shit you fucking second place”

larry didn’t question it much, but eventually the two of you became friends. it was bound to happen, your chemistry was more than just sexual, and he was sure that if the two of you had met in person before tinder, you would’ve been friends as well. was it so bad that his fuck-buddy was coming over midday now to play games or watch movies? larry decided that it may be better not to question it. besides, the two of you had a good dynamic going here.

but here’s the thing—when two people spend that much time together in the day and are having sex at night, at least one of them is bound to grow feelings. larry would run his calloused hands up your waist, grasping for as much of you as he could get as his mouth placed sporadic kisses all down your neck. the way your voice sounded as you let out small whimpers made his heart beat faster and faster, but the best noise was when he was fucking you at such a fast pace that had your hands gripping tightly at the sheets, before suddenly he’d stop. he’d watch as you cried out and desperately tried to create some movement between the two of you, and larry would tilt your chin up and give you a lingering kiss, staring down at your tear-filled eyes before he’d finally move again.

every time you two had sex, he would pour all of his affection and feeling into it. he didn’t want to fuck up your friendship, so instead all of his pent up emotion would turn into multiple rounds of sex, sometimes rough, sometimes passionate. he didn’t think he would ever confess, he knew he couldn’t. it would be best to just ignore it, right? right.

so, he never did. he never uttered a word to anyone, not even his friends, about the feelings he harbored for you. and when he asked if you wanted to stay the night, his heart would leap as you nodded and cuddled up to him in bed. and how he felt such a surge of disappointment rush through him when you decided it was time to get going, and left. he fantasized about grabbing you by the arm, stopping you from leaving, and proclaiming that he did have feelings for you, that you were so much more than just a person to hookup with at night. that he wanted a real relationship with you, that he wanted you to stay with him and wake up to him every day, and how much it killed him to open his eyes first thing in the morning and not see your face, and that…

fuck. was he in love with you? was it more than just a crush? it didn’t matter, you didn’t want a relationship, and that was that. larry wasn’t going to push your boundaries, it wasn’t your fault that he had to go and develop feelings for someone he was just supposed to be having sex with. he was in love with you, and the thought made him embarrassed. he’d stay up at night thinking about how quick you’d be to reject him if he ever did confess. the thought of you reciprocating his feelings wasn’t even a possibility in his mind.

you bit your lip as you knocked on the front door to his house. it was strange. you were always attracted to him, of course, but lately you’d been having…thoughts. you spent so much time in his house, his room, that an image of you staying there, with him, had briefly crossed your mind the other night. how would it feel to wake up in his arms every day as the sun peeked through the curtains? to be able to walk over to your shared closet before tossing on some clothes and walking to the kitchen and make breakfast for him? you wondered if he’d help, if maybe he’d come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist before kissing you softly. “the eggs might burn,” you’d say, but he would turn the burner off and kiss you anyways. how he’d lift you up on the counter and run his hands gently down your sides and plant soft kisses to your lips.

your fantasy stopped right there as he opened up the door, greeting you with a lazy smile. his hair was up this night, small strands falling from the bun he had loosely tied together. and then, the two of you were in his room. but it felt different somehow. maybe it was your imagination.

he closed the door behind him, pressing you up against the wood after it locked with a small click. his hands worked your shirt, pulling it off before tossing it aside. he ran his hand down the side of your thigh, your legs wrapped around him as he supported your body with ease. your hands had cupped his cheeks as you kissed him, his breath shaky as he pulled back for air for only a second.

you didn’t go home that night. you stayed, waking up to larry’s arms draped lazily over your body as your back curved against his chest like a perfect puzzle piece. you turned over, slowly as possible as to make little movement. now, you were face to face with him, his eyes still closed and lips parted slightly. you sighed, pushing a few strands of hair from his face and planting a gentle kiss on his lips. you mumbled out a strained, “fuck,” before you decided that maybe it was better to go back to sleep.

he acted like he was asleep. cheap move, he knew that, but when he felt your fingers softly brush his hair aside, his heart practically jumped out of his chest. he laid there as you kissed him once, and he swore that if you put a hand to his chest you would be able to feel just how fast his heartbeat was going.

for weeks, the two of you unconsciously pined over one another, both of you too afraid to say anything. you continued as you were, meeting up for either video games or sex.

his room was dark, dimly illuminated by his LED lights, your body reflecting a slight sheen of blue as the lights hit your skin perfectly. his hands grasped at your hips, his back against the wall behind his bed as you bounced yourself up and down on his cock, face to face. he supported your movements with his hands on your hips, eyebrows furrowed. you were so fucking tight around him, and your bodies seemed to come together perfectly, like it was meant to be. the way your lips were parted as you moaned his name, and how you almost screamed when he met your movement by thrusting upwards, and how he had to cover your mouth with his hand as to not disturb his roommates. he had moved you to lay on your back now, his body hovering above yours as he fucked you into his mattress. your hands intertwined above your head, and you could fe that all familiar feeling of a bubble about to burst in your stomach.

“f-fuck..fuck! im so, i’m so fucking—“ your sentences weren’t even coherent as he fucked you rhythmically. your back arched, letting him hit an even deeper spot inside of you that made you cry out his name. you removed your hand from his, moving up to cup his cheeks as you stared into his eyes. “fuck..don’t stop. please, don’t stop.”

“fuck…” larry groaned back. he was close, and the way you looked at him as if he was the only thing that mattered right then and there just drew him closer. it was all too much. the way you cried out his name and pulled him into kiss you. it just came out. he mumbled, “fuck…i love you,” and the way immediately after that you pulled him in for another kiss sent him over the edge. you could feel his cum drip out as he pulled himself out of you. you laid on his bed, chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. he uttered that he was going to get you a towel to clean up with after he pulled on some sweatpants.

as you laid there, now partially clothed but still sweaty, you thought about it. you thought about what he had said to you, and how the words alone were enough to make you come undone. your face burned as you thought about it.

larry could really just kill himself. he was so fucking stupid. he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, fist clenched so tightly that his skin turned paler. he was going to act as if it never happened. it was for the best. it was always for the best.

as the two of you laid in his bed, you couldn’t help but think. and in an impulse, you blurted out, “do you really love me?” as soon as the words had left your mouth, your face heated up with embarrassment. you had meant to phrase it more carefully, but the sound of his voice kept repeating that same line in your head.

larry recoiled, barely visible, as he stayed silent. what was he supposed to say? he couldn’t even act cool in the moment as his mind scrambled for words, any words, to come to mind. “uh…” he said, gulping. he could feel his hands getting clammy. “you can, uh…you don’t have to feel obligated to stay if you’re uncomfortable. i don’t want you to feel like you have to pity me.” that came out a bit self deprecating, but he meant it. he was the one who had fucked it up. he was the one that couldn’t even keep his words to himself.

as you processed his sentence, you furrowed your eyebrows. you had been seeing larry for a few months now, was it? the time you spent together, you felt it had become more than just sex. you guys built a friendship, a bond. maybe it was soon, but life didn’t wait for anyone. “no, fuck..! no, i don’t want to leave, i just…” you paused, thinking about it for a moment more. “i think that i might, um. i don’t know, i can’t really think straight right now, i just…i know i have feelings for you.” and you left it at that. you didn’t know if you loved him yet, but you were sure of yourself.

larry’s brain stopped working for a split second in that moment. he took time to replay your words in his head, but only for a second, because before he knew it he was rambling. “wait, seriously? like, actually? you don’t have to say anything to try and make me feel better, know that. i don’t want to try and—“ you cut him off by shaking your head. “no, no! im not just saying this shit, seriously. im really sure of it, actually.” you laughed softly, half heartedly. it was hard to make eye contact.

larry let out an incredulous laugh as you smiled at him nervously. maybe this moment should’ve been more serious, but all he could think in that moment is that he felt happy. truly, genuinely happy. “let me take you out on a date,” he said, to which you responded with a bright smile and a nod. he couldn’t help but laugh again at the situation, and how unorthodox it all felt. he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

the two of you had stayed up late talking. just talking about life, about feelings and emotions. you two didn’t wake until late noon, but waking up to see your face snuggled into his chest was just about the biggest surge of serotonin that larry could’ve received.

[kookiessugababy]

I hope he heard (Kim Taehyung) 18+ nsfw!!

Scenario-> upon spending time with the boys after watching their rehearsal for an upcoming show, your secret relationship with Taehyung is strained as his jealousy for the flirtatious nature of others shows.

Warnings 🚨 -> smut// daddy kink// angst// begging// hickies

Hope you enjoy!

****************************************************

“Taehyung baby i didn’t mean it!” Pleading, clammy hands shook under his stare as you noted his afflicted demeanour, reaching for his cheeks to cup his face. The dingy light cast shadows of doubt upon the floor of the rehearsal room, accentuating his knitted brow and flared nostrils- vexation spilling from the seams of his lips. Standing artlessly across from him as you fumbled with your fingers- silent seconds fleeting as he seemed to ponder amongst his thoughts; veins rose to strain at his neck.

“How fucking dare you let him flirt with you.” Spitting his words in such a prepotent manner, his referral to Namjoons previous (somewhat meaningless) actions let your mouth drop wordlessly, unable to form such an excuse.

The insecurity of such a private relationship was straining Taes trust with the boys- his agitation growing with every visit you made as they continued to toy with you. Unable to even plead your case before he grasped your arm- pushing you to the far wall. Breathless and unsteady, you found yourself staring at your own gaze in the mirrored panelling, your cheek crushed against the cold reflection.

Hungry hands bent your position as you rested against the glass, back arched as Taehyung pulled your hair back to watch the two of you in the reflection. Pleats of your skirt carelessly folded over your thong, naturally exposing your ass as he pushed his hips against your bare skin.

“Who do you belong to, y/n” he lumbered- spiralling flutters through your stomach as his fingers traced the goosebumps of your most intimate places. “You, daddy. I belong to you. Im sorry” Besseching your purity as he pushed himself against your heat- air hitching in your throat at the contact. “Prove it”

Complying to his demand. you cautiously pull yourself from his bearing grip, sinking to your knees as you glance up at his prepossessing visage. A smirk played upon his lips as your nimble fingers tricked at his joggers, discarding them in seconds as his cock pushed against the fabric of his loose grey boxers. His frustration always riled him up in a way you couldn’t explain- his privation obvious in the confinement of the material; his desire to claim you causing your cheeks to heat. In search of approval, you tugged his boxers down to join the heap on the floor- his swollen cock springing towards your face. In reply, fingers scraped back your soft hair as if expecting your calculated movements; allowing you to leave sweet kitten licks on his tip- cleaning up the dripping precum from his arousal. Tae hissed at the contact, pulling his grip tighter- urging your movements as annoyance surged through each teasing touch.

Responding to his dissatisfaction, your lips opened to take in his throbbing member- hand following the path of your salivated tongue as you tenderly stirred his large cock around your mouth. Profanities stung his tongue as you gradually hastened your tantalising pace, rhythmically twisting your small grip around his base, bouncing your head up and down.

Desperate for more contact, his hips circled as he pushed your head further- lungs burning as he relentlessly choked your airways with his impressive size. The warmth of your mouth and streaming eyes caused him to groan at the sight, the feeling of your gagging throat closing around his erection pushing him closer to his high.

Your lips were swollen, pink and sore as you continued to please him- his control now showering above you as he suddenly began thrusting into your mouth. Holding his hands behind your head to stabilise your position, he repeatedly drove himself in and out- your tongue numb as he brushed against it without cease. “Ffuck- baby look at you. Taking my cock so...well in your throat” words were almost inaudible amongst his breathless pants- fucking your face as he watched in delight as you submissed to him. His cock was painfully swollen in your mouth, leaking with hot cum- pulsating slightly at the back of your throat as you choked on his shaft yet again. As you did so, your watering eyes met his own- his load spilling onto your tongue. Tae’s head was thrown back in bliss, jaw accentuated in the light as small beads of sweat escaped the hold of his lashes - dripping down his cheek. Exhausted moans escaping his thoughts as you cooled your raw throat with air; jaw aching and weak. A concoction of saliva and cum spilled down your chin- messing up your features in his wallow. Large hands held below your chin, tilting your face up as his thumb sat on the dripping mess. Rubbing it about your face, a coy look plastered his adoring features.

“Turn around, y/n baby” Tae mumbled as you struggled to pull yourself up, your knees weak from the restraining position of the floor. Repositioning you with his strength, he pushed your front to return, chest pressed against the gleaming mirrors- your mascara now streaming and hair tousled with enmity.

Let them hear your screams for daddy, okay?" His voice was low as he commanded, hands lingering at your thong as he fondled with the soaked fabric. At this point, your clit was swollen and arousal puddles between your thighs-glistening slightly in the low light of the practice hall; your neediness growing with every passing minute. Shuffled echoed in the room as he positioned himself behind you-the cool air warming around your hole as he moved himself closer to your heat. Teasing your folds with his tip, he ran himself lines against your soaking lips- your arousal audible as you whined at his movements. "Beg for my cock, yin" his tone was now serious and stern- your cheeks glowing in embarrassment as you automatically thrusted back as you yearned for more attention. "Please daddy I need you in me. I'm so wet for you please daddy. Fill me up I b-

Devoid of warning, his cock thrusted into you-cutting your pronouncement as your face pushed up to the glass in repetition as you shrieked at the sheer stretch of your tight hole. Tingling slightly under his touch, one hand grasped your hips as he coiled himself into you-burying every inch of his cock into your tightening heat. Sheer sensitivity was a result of feeling him finish in your mouth, unable to handle the asperity of each thrust- his name spilling from your mouth in merciless cries. "Daddy- I.. harder!" You yowled, his remaining hand now adjusting your head to watch the scene in the mirror. Blurred vision barely gave justice to the sight-Taes flushed cheeks and dropped head focusing on every stern movement he made, your breathless figure bouncing with every movement he made. Planting spanks upon your ass, Taes hand raised yet again to mark your pale skin- wincing under each blow. Your stomach tightened as he pushed himself further- toes curling under the overwhelming sensation. Yells volumes your ecstasy as clenching walls made it difficult for him to move- palm prints only spreading along your hips as he struggled through his last few, desperate thrusts. "Cum for daddy, baby" Tae demanded- profanities spilling as you finished around him- mess running down your thighs as his arousal mixed with your own.

Both of you stood breathless in the empty hall-your pants bouncing off the walls in the new found silence, slightly dumbfounded. Eyelids drooping in exhaustion, a hand caressed your sores as a small voice tainted your earlobe. “I love you, y/n” “i love you too tae” your voice dry and throat scratching for words, coaxing a sore reply. “Goodness, I hope he heard”

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3





[dokifluffs]

Falling Asleep on Him | Oikawa, Atsumu

Pairings: Oikawa X Reader (gender netural), and Atsumu X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: more fluff tehe

Author’s Note: the final installmentttt and oh to sleep. 

WARNINGS! Post time skip for Atsumu!! 

Falling Asleep on Them | Kenma, Kuroo // Falling Asleep on Them | Tsukishima, Akaashi, Iwaizumi // Falling Asleep on Them | Yamaguchi, Ushijima, Osamu 

Oikawa: 

“Come on, Y/N, we’re gonna miss the introductions~” Oikawa held onto your hand as he led you through the crowd, weaving passed the families and people as they walked through the entrance of the TeNQ Space Museum

“Tooru, slow down- ah, I’m so sorry,” you called back to the man you bumped into lightly with your shoulder as Oikawa pulled the two of you through toward the planetarium, the building right beside the museum

You surprised Oikawa for his birthday with tickets to this museum, one of the many he had always wanted to go but never found the time to go

Yet here the two of you were

It took you a month to wait to present these tickets, snatching them as soon as you could, especially for the planetarium that was only open for two hours per day

With his eagerness, the two of you made it to your seats in the planetarium, making it with just a few minutes left to spare

He practically bounced in his seat seeing how they planetarium projected constellations all over the ceiling, colorful lights slowly bouncing around as people chatted away, anticipating for the projections of the universe

He stuffed his and your bags beneath his seat, out of the wait of the aisle, making sure not to block anyone

“We made it,” you huffed, out of breath

The two of you had spent all day, taking your time to go through and look at everything that could possibly looked at, taking even longer to pass time at the gift shop, buying shirts, figurines of model space crafts, little gifts and toys usually for kids

But of course oikawa told you he “bought them for his nephew”

They were totally for his bedroom and you knew it

You felt so drained sitting in the planetarium, cold as well as the air conditioning constantly ran 

The dome went silent, the voices hushing away to nothing as the lights dimmed, a calm, man’s voice sounding over the speakers all around, going through the history of space

you let out a yawn, goosebumps rising on your arms, a chill running down your spine 

but looking to oikawa, you had never seen his eyes shine as bright as the stars in the dome or in the night sky 

his smile, how the stars twinkled and reflected his brown eyes so brightly warmed you up 

As focused as he was on the stars, he could see you in his peripheral vision 

“isn’t it great- oh, Y/N, are you tired?” he asked as he turned, catching you burying your face as you let out a yawn, your arms folded over your chest, your figure balled up just the slightest 

He unzipped his sweater, draping it around you without missing a beat 

You waited a month to give him the tickets, to bring him to one of the places he wanted to so desperately go to in Japan and here the two of you were 

Though sleep last night was hard to come by with excitement welling up inside of you but by the time you slept, you had already missed a couple of your usual hours of sleep

Not to mention how early the two of you left to make it to a couple metro rides in order to get here early enough to walk around 

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as the two of you relaxed in your seats, gazing up at the stars, feeling like you were worlds away from earth 

though for Oikawa, with you beside him, his world was always right there with him 

You dozed off, your eyes fluttering off, the last thing you saw were the hundreds of stars shining, it persuaded your mind further it was the middle of the night 

“Thank you for the best gift, chibi-chan,” he pecked the top of your head as he returned his focus to the stars, his heart full 

he couldn’t have asked for a better day than this 

Atsumu: 

The loud sound of the motors of the turbines on the plane became a background noise that everyone on the plane had become accustomed to, falling asleep regardless of how noisy it seemed to get

Everyone’s windows were shut, blocking out the bright morning sun as the plane neared closer and closer to the Tokyo International Airport

The Jackals occupied the first class, the team catching up on much needed rest after playing extensive games against Brazil and France in Paris, all lasting more than three sets at least

All except Atsumu and you but barely

He kept an earbud in his ear, watching recordings of all the games ever since sitting down

The special thing about the first class seats in the plane were how they could extend to mini couches, comfy enough for anyone of any age

A small divider could slide up and down between the paired seats in each section but fortunately for Atsumu, he didn’t have to sit with Bokuto or Hinata or Sakusa, watching him freak out over the seat, disinfecting every single bit of it before actually sitting

The divider was down, you sat close beside him as he held the phone, the other bud in your ear

A complimentary blanket was draped loosely over both your bodies, only one of Atsumu’s legs as he wore black sweatpants, his face leaning into his free hand balled into a fist

It felt like your body was slowly swaying back and forth as you blinked your eyes repeatedly, keeping yourself awake

Tears every now and then filled your eyes, blurring your vision of the game before you wiped them away, numerous yawns escaping you

Atsumu was focused on the video but he could also very clearly see you below him to the side, your head swaying and almost even dropping a couple times

“Ya know ya can sleep, right?’ He paused the recording, calling out your obvious sluggishness

“I wanted to watch your game with you,” you looked up to him with those tired eyes of yours, a small warmness blooming in his chest as a result of just the way you looked at him

“You can watch later, just sleep”

You nodded, moving out of the blanket to head back to your actual seat when Atsumu took hold of your arm

“Where do ya think you’re going? You got a perfectly good pillow right here,” He pulled you to lean onto him, his legs suddenly propped up so you could be laid between his body and legs

“Get some sleep,” he pushed your hair back from your forehead, making sure to rub his thumb over your head as he always did whenever you slept before him

His phone stayed illuminated, the video paused at a part replaying a certain play made by the Jackals against Brazil, beside him as he continued his ministration, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your skin

He couldn’t believe you were here; you took a flight by yourself from Japan all the way to France to see him as a surprise since he would be gone for two weeks but he never expected it

You were there right in the front on the Jackals’ side wearing a shirt that had replicated his jersey

“Thank you for being there,” he thought to himself letting the gushy warmth take over his chest and spread through his body when his mind filled with you, the features of your face and body he had seen and felt so many times, the voice and laugh he had grown accustomed to like no other

“And here.” Atsumu leaned down when you were for sure asleep, pressing a light kiss to your forehead as his hand found the edge of the blanket, pulling it up to cover more of your body sleeping on his

Just as he thought and knew: this was where you should be- with him

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046  @mazey-chan  @sunboikyo00  @kara-grayson04​  @fortheloveofbakugo​ @tsumtsumsemi​ @osamuonigiri @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci​ @realityisoftendisapointing@plantisnotplant @k-eijiakaashi​ @pink-panda-pancakes​ @differentballooncollection​ @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction​ @euphorihan@turquoiselace​ @macaronnv  @oxmaddy​​ @mrkoala4prsdnt​​ @curiouslilbeast​ @plantisnotplant@therestless101​ @abcdaichi​ @oyasenpai​ @kaaidalupita​ @lovinnoya​ @wisepandaslimeland​ @killuaking​

[mellowswriting]

Helping Hand

pairing || Din Djarin x fem!Reader

summary ||  The clasps on bras should not be so fucking difficult. It’s a good thing Mando doesn’t mind lending you a helping hand.

word count || 4,873

warnings || SMUT! p in v sex, kinda rough tbh, desperate Mando, cockwarming, a singular spank, love confessions bc I am soft for this man 

a/n || this was uh...something! I firmly believe that Mandalorians waste zero time once they find their person. Once they have them, they have them. No such thing as rushing to a Mandalorian, especially our TinCanMan. also, this gif destroys me

Main Masterlist  |  Join the taglist!

The second you saw the bra as you perused the marketplace, your face lit up. The fabric was rich in color and ridiculously soft and you knew the second you had your hands on it that you were buying it. It wasn’t too expensive, a few credits more than what you’d usually be willing to pay for clothes, but hey, you deserved to splurge every now and then. You practically bounced with excitement as you made your way back to the Crest where Mando and the little green kiddo you adored waited for your return. It was nice to get some time to yourself, time where you didn’t have to chase after a rambunctious kid or have to squeeze past Mando’s huge frame in the small spaces of the Crest, but what could you say?

You missed your boys. 

The ramp lowered as you drew closer and you smiled. Mando must have seen you approaching. The sight of him standing in the cockpit with the sleeping child cradled in his arm made your chest bloom with happiness. You paused on your way to set your bag on your bunk, distracted by the uncomfortable looking angle he held his arm at, and let out a quiet laugh. Mando’s silent tendencies left you to observe the way he held himself to discern how he was feeling, and after months of living with him, you could gauge him easily by the tilt of his helmet, the way he held his shoulders. You may not be fluent in Mando’a, but you were fluent in your Mandalorian. 

“He wakes up the second you lay him down, huh?” You asked, a teasing smile on your face. The sharp way he looked to you only confirmed your suspicion and you bit your lip to hold back another chuckle. “Here, let me.”

The child didn’t even stir when you fluidly slipped him from Mando’s arms and slowly settled him into the metallic cradle he slept in. Mando sighed loudly behind you, the sound roughed slightly by the modulator. “How are you so good at that?”

“It’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?” You turned and almost knocked back into the cradle at the proximity of the beskar-clad warrior, a mere few inches between your chests. Heat flared across your face. “It’s just, uh… just lotsa practice.” 

Mando hummed quietly and you instinctively looked to his shoulders and his hands, trying to gauge his mood. They were relaxed, the tension he always carried about him eased for the moment. Content, if you had to guess. It made you smile up at him, brighter than any sun in the galaxy. There weren't many times you saw him without that ready-to-action tension that plagued his surely sore muscles - almost always when the three of you were in the Crest, safe together as you hurtled through space. He turned just as quickly as he had approached you, stepping out of your space to set the coordinates to Nevarro, and you felt like you could finally exhale. 

Bag in hand, you practically stumbled into your bunk and pulled out the pretty bra you were so excited to put on - inky black, accentuated with intricately designed lace and a harness-like back. You pulled off your clothes quickly, stripping down entirely bare to slip into a soft pair of sleeping shorts. It would take a while to get back to Nevarro; you might as well be comfortable for it. The process of undressing while the Crest drew away from solid ground used to have you half naked and on the ground from the jostling, but thankfully you had grown proficient at balancing yourself through the rough takeoffs. 

A quiet sigh escaped you at the brush of the luxurious cloth against your bare skin, deft fingers latching the clasps at your back. It was a welcome change to the usual bras you wore. The straps were a bit too loose, allowing the cups to droop slightly from your breasts, and you fumbled to tighten them. It was just out of your grasp, your fingers grappling uselessly for the elusive adjuster as you huffed in annoyance.

“Need a hand?” Mando’s voice behind you made you startle almost comically and whirl around, one hand pressed against your chest where your heart was battering against your ribs. How in the hell did he always manage to move so silently? Heat bloomed up your neck and across your face unbiddenly. Sure, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you in some state of undress - living in such close quarters and the fact that Mando apparently never learned how to knock had him walking in on you often. But there was no denying the difference in you standing before him dressed practically in lingerie. 

“Uh, y-yeah, if you could?” You stuttered, internally groaning at your sudden inability to speak. The thick tension of the air could have choked you as you stared Mando down awkwardly until he twirled his finger, silently commanding you to turn around, and you could just die. “You just have to slide the, uh, adjuster up towards my shoulder.”

Mando said nothing and before you could move your hair out of his way, one gloved hand gathered it to settle over your shoulder and you had to tamp down on the shiver that tried to wriggle up your spine. He fiddled with the straps silently, leaving you to wrangle with your bordering on desperate need to climb the giant man behind you like a tree and lose yourself in the pleasures you could bring each other. 

You weren’t blind, nor were you stupid. Far from it, actually. Reading people was a gift you had possessed from a young age - one’s intent could easily be sussed by the specific light in their eyes, the slightest change in their tone, the barely-there shift in their body language. Mando may not speak often, you may not be able to watch for the arch of an eyebrow or the quirk of a lip, but you could still read him like a book. 

The fear of complication warred with your need. The child was a beacon of light in your life when you thought there could never be anything but swallowing darkness. He was a reminder of the little things that made everything else worth it - every coo, every small smile as he slept, every time he came running up to you or Mando on his little legs. Even when you were having to explain over and over again that no, he couldn’t eat the buttons off of the comlink, he brought you more joy than you could imagine. 

It didn’t help that every day spent flying through hyperspace left you growing closer to the Mandalorian. Even when there was nothing but silence between you, it was comfortable, companionable. The final straw? Mando slept in your presence. The first time it happened had been entirely accidental. He was exhausted after a strenuous bounty, one that ran far longer than they fought for, and the second the coordinates had been set, Mando collapsed into the pilot’s seat and promptly passed out. Knowing that he was comfortable enough to fall asleep without second thought, that he trusted you enough to be vulnerable like that around you...you never felt more like you belonged.

And Mando? When he woke several hours later, feeling far more well-rested than usual, he saw you curled up in the seat next to him with the child cradled in your lap as the blur of hyperspace reflected in your eyes. You had smiled at him, sleepy but bright nonetheless, and he had never been more grateful for the helmet that hid his face. You were too smart, too observant - you would be able to read the love on his face plain as day.

That little green womp rat and his beskar covered father saved you when you thought there was nothing left. The idea of losing that made you nauseous. The idea of how complete your little family would feel if you gave in made you tempted. 

It was complicated. 

A modulated grunt of frustration came from the man behind you as he couldn’t get a solid hold on that damn adjuster and you bit back a laugh. A Mandalorian, a warrior - bested by some plastic and fabric. Something fell to the ground, landed on the metal floor with two quiet thwaps, and before you could glance down to see what it was, warm bare fingers slid between the strap and your skin. This time there’s no stopping the almost violent shiver that racked your body, paired with an embarrassingly sharp exhale, and Maker your resolve was crumbling to pieces. 

“Tell me when.” Mando rumbled once his nimble fingers finally wrapped around the plastic, his modulator vibrating right in your ear in the most delicious way. The strap tightened slowly as his fingers slid up, the cup of the bra finally flush against your skin, and your voice was hoarse when you whispered ‘when’. 

Instead of simply reaching for the other strap, his warm palm made a lazy path across your skin, pausing for a breath between your shoulder blades before slipping under the thin fabric. He repeats the movement, tightening the strap until you clear your throat and manage to say in a stronger tone, “T-there is fine.” 

Mando hummed, his fingertips gliding over the soft skin of your shoulder and holy hell, his chest was practically pressed to your back and there was no way he wasn’t being a giant tease. “Just fine?”

“Perfect,” You corrected, your voice breathy, eyes threatening to flutter shut as that hand trailed over your shoulder to trace along the line of the cup of your bra. Goosebumps followed Mando’s touch, raised as your body’s desperate testament to the need that had vibrated through you. You just barely caught a glimpse of those tanned hands, hands you had seen a few times as he took care of the more delicate aspects of cleaning of his weapons, and you whispered, “You’re p-perfect.”

Mando gripped your hip suddenly, your soft flesh soft a beautiful contrast to his calloused hands, and it was the dip of his fingertips underneath the hem of your shorts that made you lean back into him fully, your head tilted back against his shoulder. A rumbled moan vibrated from his chest and into your back, felt all the way through his chestplate, as you “You want this, sweet girl?”

You nodded quickly. “H-how? How can we…”

“Leave it to me,” Mando murmured, preoccupied with the heat of your bare skin under his hands as he finally broke, finally explored the body of the woman he had fallen in love with in the months since his clan had expanded to three. “Just...tell me you want this. Please.”

Mando’s voice was rough and desperate even through the modulator and you nodded without a second thought. You knew you were in for it just from the way he pushed you further into your bunk to let the door slide shut behind him. No fanfare, no fuss. Mando was certain. He was going for what he wanted, and it lit a fire in you. 

You sat on the edge of the bed, your heart racing as Mando methodically unclasped his armor, his visor trained on you with each piece that came off - and it hit you. This was actually happening. 

Finally. 

You grinned up at the t-shaped visor of his helmet and pulled him closer by the hem of his duraweave pants, his grunt of approval stoking the flames of your need. He pulled his shirt off fluidly and your hands froze where they were trying to undo his pants as you admired the sight of so much bare skin. 

“So handsome,” You whispered before kissing just below his navel, smiling into his skin at the way his hand buried in your hair. Mando hummed under your gentle touch, under the trail of your tongue against his skin. It had been so long, too long since he had any form of gentle touch, you knew that. Touch starved, that was the term. 

You would fix that. 

You trailed your hand over his ribs, fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake when your nails scratched him lightly. Finally having your hands on him had you almost giddy, your heart flying in your chest as you slowly kissed down his stomach to the tent in his pants, nerves and need warring in your belly. You wanted to learn every piece of your Mandalorian - his scars and their stories, where to kiss when you wanted to hear those intoxicating groans, his favorite places for you to bite and dig your nails into. You wanted to break him in the best possible way, destroy that headstrong restraint and discipline so he could destroy you in return. 

All it took was a teasing press of your tongue against the outline of his cock to make him snatch you up off of the bed with a firm hand at your jaw and you couldn’t help but smile. His helmet tilted slightly as he took you in, grinning at him like the cat that got the canary, eyes sparkling with excitement, and he gripped your shorts with his other hand hard enough to pop the hem. 

“Off.” Mando rumbled and you immediately shimmied out of them as quickly as you could with his hand still holding your face firmly. The second the fabric no longer hindered his access, he ran his hand over your ass, greedy fingers digging into the firm flesh of one cheek. “Such a good listener. Aren’t you, sweet girl?”

You pressed closer as you nodded, desperate to feel his body against yours, and your eyes fell closed at the warmth of the skin to skin contact of your chest against his. As much as you loved the bra you wore, you wanted to feel nothing between you. It was easy to slip off and Mando’s hand instantly left your jaw to trace along your breast. It amazed you how gentle he could be; those big hands capable of incapacitating, capable of killing, gently palming your skin and tweaking your nipple. A breathy chuckle met your ears and only then did you realize you were arching up into his touch. 

“I won’t be gentle.” Mando warned. 

You grinned, heat shuddering down your spine at the roughness of his tone. “Who says I want you to be?”

You were on your back before you could even blink, the impact against the bed pulling a gasp from you. Mando made an image painted by the gods: stood over you, chest heaving with each harsh breath, cock straining proudly against his pants. That was the last thing you saw before his hand slapped against the light control on the wall and the entire bunk plunged into darkness. 

A hand wrapped around your ankle and yanked you against a pair of firm thighs, forcing out a yelp that morphed into a low whine when your legs were spread wide. Without your vision to guide you, you had to rely on your hearing, your sense of touch, and the low clank of metal on metal and rustling of fabric had you confused until his warm, entirely naked body slid over yours and you heard the first tones of Mando’s voice - unmodulated, raw and low in your ear. 

“You need me, huh? You need this?” Mando growled, sliding down to grind his cock against you, and he grinned impishly at the desperation of your whimper, at the way you angled your hips to try to slide him inside of you. “Let me take what I want and I’ll give you what you need.” 

You could have cried out when he pulled back, could have begged him to stay and fuck you already, but the feeling of his lips latching onto your neck made your voice melt into unintelligible groans. You buried your hands in his hair, memorizing the soft way the curls fell through your fingers. The combination of his teeth and tongue were sure to leave a mark, one you would wear with pride for anyone to see. It was the first of many lovebites he left on your skin, trailed down your neck and over your chest and delivered between significantly gentler bites and licks to your breasts. Your hips moved entirely of their own volition, legs wrapped around his waist to rub against his stomach. 

Mando’s hands found your hips and pressed them down, pressing you flush to the bed hard enough that you knew you would have bruises, ones you would relish as long as they lasted. You had never felt more desperate to be touched, tension rocketing tighter and tighter in your core. 

“So needy, mesh’la.” Mando rumbled as he shoved you further up the bed. He delivered a sharp bite to your thigh and you jumped, a laugh bubbling up from your chest at the suddenness and the way he eased the mark with his tongue. You carded your fingers through his hair again and his chest rumbled, almost as if he were purring. Just as you were about to comment on it, tell him how cute it was that he reacted so beautifully to your touch, his tongue slid through your wet heat. 

“Fuck!” You exclaimed, the grip you had in his curls tightening harshly as you tried to roll your hips to grind against his face, but he pinned your hips with sure hands. Not to be hindered, you pressed your heels into his back and still managed tiny hitches and Mando chuckled at your determination. His tongue rolled over your clit, over and over until you were crying out at the sparks of pleasure radiating through your core.

His mouth left you for a split second, just long enough to slick his fingers with his spit, and his tongue descended back to your clit as two fingers rubbed tiny circles against your entrance. You were almost incoherent in your begging, your voice slurred, words cut off in the middle - and then two thick fingers slid into your cunt, his lips wrapped around your clit, and you thought your heart stopped with the intensity of it all. 

After what could have been an eternity or a mere half second, Mando pumped his fingers slowly and your entire world imploded around you. The groan that left your lover was exhilarating. He mumbled against you, something about the tightest fucking cunt he’s ever had, before his tongue went back to town, flicking over your clit as his fingers curled into that sweet spot deep inside you. Your back arched of its own volition, your entire body tensing as Mando rocketed you to your climax.

“Can’t wait anymore.” Was the only warning you got before he pulled away, leaving you to flutter around nothing, and a high whine left your throat as Mando leaned over you and yanked your thighs up to hook further over his hips. His lips fell to yours and you groaned at the taste of your arousal, your hand cupping his jaw and reveling in the scratch of his stubble against your skin. The heavy weight of his cock pressed against your thigh until he angled himself to press right against your entrance, and - 

“Wait!” You gasped and Mando froze entirely. You reached between you to grasp his cock, groaning at the thick girth that you knew would split you open beautifully. “Let me... let me make you feel good, too.” 

“Won’t last, mesh’la,” Mando growled, his forehead pressed to yours as he fucked into your hand despite his words. For just a moment you thought you had him, had gained some modicum of control as you stroked him with a firm hand, but he batted your hand away to pin above your head. “Need to bury my cock in your tight little cunt.”

“P-please! I need it, I need you to fuck me full.” You mewled so prettily for him and Mando broke. 

The sound that left him was pulled from his very core, an almost feral growl radiating from his chest and leaving you shuddering underneath him, ready to beg until he finally shoved his cock into you, but before you could get a sound out you were flipped you onto all fours. You tried to steady yourself, to press your weight into your hands so you could grind your ass back against him, but a rough hand shoved between your shoulder blades until your face and chest were flush against the blankets beneath you. 

“You want me to claim this cunt?” Mando breathed into your ear as he settled his chest against your back, gliding the head of his cock through your slit teasingly. A dark chuckle followed your pitiful whine. “Oh I think I will. Stuff you full of my cum so everyone knows who you belong to.”

Mando pulled back and steadied a hand at your hip, the other pulling your cheeks apart as he finally slid home. Inch after devastating inch filled your cunt, the familiar stretch on just the right side of painful. A sinful, wrecked groan came from behind you and despite yourself, despite being face down ass up for a warrior, you felt powerful. 

“S-so fucking tight,” Mando stuttered out as he gave a small push forward, pressing even further into your heat despite being buried to the hilt already, short, aborted thrusts as he tried to let you adjust to his girth. 

“Please, please, please,” You huffed out with each exhale, and if you were in your right mind you might have been at least slightly embarrassed by the desperation of your begging, but you were aching for him to move. You clenched around him, reveling in the punched-out sound it drew from him, and finally, finally he drew back halfway to shove back into you sharply. 

Mando didn’t fuck you - the word ‘fuck’ wasn’t enought to encompass the way he drove into you over and over, shoved you further into the sheets with his teeth buried in your shoulder. You wanted to be destroyed, and Maker did he deliver, pressed against that sweet spot deep inside you and making your writhe beneath him. It took a moment to find your voice amongst the harsh thrusts, but the sound of you whimpering ‘Mando…’ over and over had your lover delivering a sharp swat to your ass before yanking you up by your hair and bracing your ass on his thighs, his pace unfaltering. 

“S-such a sweet little thing,” Mando stuttered, one hand holding you by your neck, keeping you flush against him, and the other sliding down to toy with your clit, those calloused fingers rubbing in tight circles until you pressed your head to his shoulder and wailed. “Sound so pretty for me.”

You wanted to tell him how good he felt stretching you out, how much you loved this, how much you loved him, but there was no speaking when his thrusts punched the very air from your lungs. So you buried your hand in his hair and tightened, rolling your hips into every push of his own. The sharp pull of his hair seemed to egg him on and his hand slid up from your throat to tilt your head and capture your lips with his. 

The angle was awkward, the kiss all teeth and tongue, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. Mando drank in your every moan, every whine, and sang out his own in response, poured them out in a never ending stream that left you washed out in pleasure and pride. You reduced him to this. The tight clench of your cunt around him left the strong warrior slashed down to his most base instincts, left him to bury himself in you over and over as if he couldn’t bear to hold back. 

Your begging was almost incoherent, words broken off halfway with each harsh thrust, but it all melted into one low cry when Mando toyed with your clit and ground against that sweet spot against you and you broke. The only thing that kept you upright was Mando’s strong grip on your body as your pleasure crested, sparked out all across your body and left you weak in the aftermath of ecstasy. Your hand fell loose in his hair, still tangled in his curls but just barely staying put. 

Mando laid you down almost sweetly, flipped your weak body around to lie on your back and settled between your thighs. He growled low in your ear when you hooked your ankles over his lower back and whined so prettily for him as he pushed himself deep into your cunt - right where he belonged. His thrusts were shorter, stunted in his relentless chase for release inside of your body, leaving you hanging in the precipice between pleasure and overstimulation. 

“Feel so good,” You whispered in his ear, gasping when he buried his face in your neck and latched onto your skin with rough presses of teeth and tongue. The pace of his thrusts stuttered when you clenched around him, urging him to let go.

“Where?” Mando grunted low into your skin, unable to find the words to finish his thoughts but you knew. You knew what he wanted, the desperate want you both shared.

“Inside!” You gasped out in a rough voice, almost desperate in tone, and locked your legs around his waist tighter, using the newfound leverage to meet each of his thrusts. “Please, please cum inside me.”

The choked off sound in your ear was downright addictive and paired with the airtight grip on your hips as he pressed flush against your body and flooded you with his release....well, you wouldn’t be able to live without it, without him. Mando collapsed, crushed you underneath his weight with his cock still nestled in your tight heat. Maker, he was heavy but you never felt safer. He panted in your ear, the ghost of each breath curling across your skin like a loving caress and you could feel the curve of his lips where he smiled against you, a smile you matched. 

Your fingers buried in his hair once more, scratching against his scalp in slow, gentle circles, and the delighted whimper he gave sounded like it came from anyone but the rough and tumble warrior who just railed you into oblivion. One of his hands writhed up between your chests to cup your breast, the gun-calloused skin of his palm a harsh contrast to the soft, unmarred skin of your chest. 

“Mando…” You chuckled in a tone of warning when those fingers tweaked your nipple, sending sparks echoing across your skin. 

“Din,” He grunted in your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth and worrying it with his tongue, only pulling back when you made a small noise of confusion. “Din Djarin. You should know the name of the man who claims you.”

Your heart stuttered, racing to match the pace of your thoughts. This...this was a huge deal for him, you knew that. Your arms tightened around him almost of their own volition as it hit you - this union meant as much to him as it did to you. 

Mando - Din was yours. 

You were his. 

“Cyare,” Din whispered at the small noise that left you, propping himself up on his elbows to hover over you despite not being able to see you. You followed his movements as best you could, not wanting to jostle around enough for his softening cock to slip from your body.  “Are you okay? Was...Was this not-”

“No! No, I...damn it,” You stumbled over your words in your rush to reassure him, reaching up to hesitantly place your hands on either side of his face, giving him plenty of time to stop you in case you crossed a line. He didn’t. Rough stubble met your fingers and you laughed wetly in disbelief. You couldn’t believe your luck. “I love you. I have from the start.”

Din’s breath caught in his throat and he pressed his face back into your neck as he returned the sentiment, his words muffled and cracking under the weight they carried. You giggled at the way his tongue met your neck, surely adding to the multitude of marks he already left there, but tilted your head back for more access nonetheless. He was right - he laid his claim on you, buried his seed as deep inside you as he could and left the imprint of his teeth across your skin for all to see. 

“A clan of three, right?” You said before kissing his temple, yours eyes slipping closed as your exhausted reared. 

“Yes, sweet girl. A clan of three.” Din rumbled. The vibration of his chest only lulled you further into slumber and the last thing you heard before the sleep overtook you was Din whispering, almost to himself, “My own little aliit.”

[cozycryptidcorner]

Avery the Fae/Reader, Lemon

You don’t dress up for Halloween.

Not your fault, though, really, because your professors show no mercy for holidays, especially not ones that don’t land them a day off. Classes go on as usual, and so you wake up the latest you can without risking a tardy and go off in the comfortable clothes you slept in. Except for some cat ears and one superman, everything is perfectly normal, and the day passes like almost every other, save for a ‘spooky drink’ coupon at the local cafe.

I probably don’t even need a costume, anyways, you think as you catch your reflection when passing those special mirror-like windows on one of the campus’ buildings. Frankly, you look like you crawled out of hell itself. Dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep, hair all askew and uncooperative, mouth in a permanent stressed line.

A zombie, probably, you decide, taking a sip of that hot caffeinated mess you ordered from the cafe. A hot zombie, for sure, but a zombie no less. A part of you wants to skip your next class and take a nap, but you’ve already used up your one absence, and you aren’t in a position to risk your grade for sleep. No rest for the wicked, right? Right. Everything else goes as smoothly as can be expected for being sleep deprived, and the night class seems to drag on for a fully stretched eternity, but you are finally free to go home and do your five hours of homework. Maybe if you’re lucky, you can squeeze in two or three hours of sleep.

It’s because you’re tired, you think, stopping for a hot minute when you realize that you’re lost. You hadn’t been paying attention to campus’ many twists and turns in its paths, and so you must have wandered away from the buildings and onto the forest trail that hugs the dorms, except there’s no cement beneath your feet. Not even a dirt trail marks a way out, and you take a full moment to come to terms with being lost, on your own damn campus, no less. You aren’t any kind of simpering pansy, so you turn around and begin to retrace your steps. Which doesn’t work, unfortunately, because after a couple of minutes of walking, there’s nothing to suggest that you’re only a couple of paces from civilization.

Except a drum beat, behind you. It’s faint, probably a half-mile away, but it’s the closest thing you have to a way back, especially since your phone can’t seem to pick up any signal. Maybe one of the school’s many bands are practicing? Right, you’re just going to stumble out into the football field, twigs in your hair, looking very much like you’ve gotten into a fist-fight with the entire forest…

And… Not a band, you realize, stepping into a clearing, but a party.

A costume party, too, by the looks of it, with everyone in soft, flittery clothing and fitted masks. Interesting how everyone seems to be on the same page with the dress code, there’s usually that one dick who shows up in a hotdog suit, regardless of any previous agreements. Elegant is the word you’re looking for, you decide, running into something tall and solider, correction: running into someone tall and solid.

“Oh, hey, sorry,” you apologize, shifting your weight on either foot, “I’m a little lost.”

“I think that you are right where you want to be,” your stranger says, mouth turning up into a strange, fanged smile. His black mask is trimmed with gold, and it doesn’t seem like he’s costuming as anything specific; rather, it appears to be just for anonymity.

“I think I really want to be in bed,” you say, trying to share a mutual we’re in college and want to die of exhaustion moment, but he doesn’t respond with the same energy.

“Perhaps a drink of wine before you go?” He offers, holding out an actual goblet of some kind. Maybe the metal-working students pitched in? Or accepted a particular commissioned order? It looks like genuine gold, which adds to the whole aesthetic of the party.

“Uh,” don’t accept drinks you haven’t seen made, “I’m good for now, really. Just trying to get back home to study.”

“Hm,” he says, taking a good swig from the goblet he had just offered, “good question. Through the trees from whence you came, most likely.”

Of fucking course, he’s drunk and doesn’t know left from right. Great. What an excellent position you’ve put yourself in. Frustrated and confident he wouldn’t roofie himself, you snatch the goblet from his hand and down several large gulps of shockingly sweet wine, maybe a sangria? Or something sugared up to be palatable?

Swirling the goblet around, to seem sophisticated, you ask, “so is this some kind of rich person party? Like an Illuminati meeting or something?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you speak of.”

“Right.” You draw out the single syllable, landing hard on the t. LARPers, probably, but not unattractive ones. Those masks don’t hide everything, and the shape of his jaw is not something to balk at, and those lips? Not to be forward in your own brain or anything, but they’re certainly decent to look at. This has to be some kind of weird-ass club, or like a rich dumbass ritual or something, definitely not your average frat party with a variety of random drugs mixed into the mystery punch. “Do you go to school here?”

He looks down at your university sweatshirt, cocking his head slightly. “A place of learning, is it? No, I’m afraid I have not attended such an institution, but I must admit that I have been tempted.”

“Well,” you take another sip of wine, “it’s not bad, as far as universities go. With decent financial aid, too.”

“Best not to drink too much of that,” your stranger says, “it’s much stronger than it tastes, and it’s best you stay clear-headed for the evening’s festivities.”

“One cup can’t hurt,” you say, and then realize that he’s just volunteered you to join in on the fun. Which is kind of weird, you guess, but then again, you aren’t going to complain. This is a way more interesting place to spend your evening, but might as well prop your backpack underneath one of the tables, hiding it beneath the skirt of the pale white cloth. You eye the unmarked bottle that one of the party-goers holds, but set your goblet down by the expensive-looking chinaware, flexing your fingers as they begin to tingle with the warmness that comes with alcohol. “What’s the party’s theme?”

He cocks his head, as though confused.

“Like a…” you try to think of a different way to phrase it. “A topic you pick, and everyone has to adhere to it. The people here all look like they’re, like, what Victorian thought the fairies looked like or something. I think it’s the clothes.”

“We are Faeries, though,” he says, the sides of his mouth curving upwards.

“Hm,” you say, “of course you are.”

“Join me for this dance?” Your stranger asks instead of any rebuttals, holding out a hand.

You look over at the band that plays, masks of distinct animal-like features flickering in the light of the bonfire roaring in the center of the clearing, all instruments vaguely familiar, yet not. Some of them you think you’ve seen before, at maybe renaissance-themed festivals, but the others must be from some kind of distinctly obscure genre of music.

The heat from the fire seems to lick out at your fingers, or maybe it’s the alcohol, already making its way through your system, but you stare, transfixed, at the way the lyre player plucks at the strings of their instrument. The quick movement plays too much with your eyes, you barely see anything more than the blurs of fingers, and you suddenly realize that you are swaying in place.

“I don’t know how,” you say, snapping out of whatever trance you had been in.

“It’s rather simple, come here,” he takes one of your hands, shockingly not unwelcome. Perhaps the warmth of his skin against yours brings you a kind of peace that you need during this period of your life. “I will teach you.”

Your stranger is correct; the dance is fairly simple to learn, mostly because there are very few rules. Sway your hips. Let your feet bounce against the soft forest floor. Let him spin you around and around until your head almost feels light. You’ll be honest, he’s the one doing all the work, guiding you, adding more flair to your steps, one hand resting on your waist, the other weaving its fingers with yours. Now, you may not be one to go out and ballroom dance on the fly, but you would be alright admitting that this is kind of fun.

So you dance. And you dance. And you continue dancing, letting the music remove you from time and space, everything else fades away except for the thrumming drumbeat, the wind in the trees, and your partner. You don’t feel the need to gasp for air, nor do your legs give out and collapse, but you aren’t even aware of how much time has passed. You dance out your pain, your stress, and any alcohol that lingers in your system, a layer of sweat keeping your body cool in the autumn night’s air. An eternity, perhaps, a small piece of infinity shared between you and this stranger, or the briefest of moments that still yield the most intimate bit of time that two people can share.

The song ends- or perhaps, the band finally runs out of music to play. You don’t know what time it is, but you aren’t finished with the party, not yet. The stranger sets his hands on both your hips, eyes as red as the fires of hell, and offers you a promising smile, his shirt loosely clinging to his body, having lost the fancily embroidered vest at some point while dancing.

“Do you want to get out of here?” You ask, making a snap decision not to let the night go to waste.

His smile widens.

The trees are your only audience when he brings you away from the rest of the party, the moon staring over the tops of the red and yellow leaves. The chill of the night might have discouraged anyone else, but you are broiling with energy and ready to continue moving wildly to keep warm. Despite barely being out of sight, you’re already working on his clothes, trying to find velcro or snaps of a cheap costume and failing rather miserably. He seems amused with your attempts, guiding your hands to find a variation of ties and buttons. Soon enough, you have his shirt off, his pale skin gleaming in the moonlight, revealing a chest etched in dozens of tattoos, red like blood against his pale skin, though it’s too dark to make out precisely what they are.

He seems to have a destination in mind, even though you steal most of his attention with kisses and touches. Even though you are in a place you’re sure no one would bother finding you in, he still seems determined to herd your desperate body further away from the camp, until the both of you get to a clearing, free of roots strangling the ground. Jupiter and Saturn stare blankly down from their perches in the sky, the stars surrounding them twinkling, as though applauding your conquest.

“I didn’t catch your name,” you gasp after a breathless kiss.

He pauses, almost put off by the request, like he’s startled you would even ask. Before you can even regain the ability to feel nervous, he says, “Avery.”

“Avery,” you repeat, running your fingers through his hair. “That’s a nice name.”

“And what may I call you?”

Like a fool, you give up your first name without much thought, but you are too excited about where the night is going to remember what you said even a second later. It doesn’t seem to matter, though, because his mouth is against yours, and your back is on the cold, dewy grass before you even register that he pulled your legs off balance. He’s a good kisser, you think hazily, his lips traveling down from your mouth to your collarbone. His mouth is nice and hot against your skin, already sending pleasant little shivers down your spine as he works, and you find yourself grasping at the cold, dying grass of the earth in order to pull your spirit back to reality.

The insides of your belly melt as he lifts your shirt up over your breasts, and you’re quick to discard the garment as he sucks at the skin just above the hemline of your pants. He needs help with the button and the zipper, his lithe fingers struggling to figure out the mechanics, so you undo everything for him. After letting out a thankful grunt, he leans forward, pressing his lips right on your stomach, sucking hard enough to leave a red mark that may bruise in the morning.

Then he kisses the skin just above where your underwear ends, a jolting shiver pulsing through your core at the contact. When you glance down at him, the barest light emanating from the roaring bonfire only a few meters away, he seems so… focused, you think, at his task of slowly stripping the last bit of fabric away from your body. Methodically, he tugs, fingers threading through the straps at the side, his eyes glimmering in the light bleeding out from the moon herself.

Slowly, steadily, he presses his mouth where your leg and torso meet, nibbling at a bit of flesh before moving ever so slightly downwards, opening your legs and seemingly liking what he finds down there. Carefully avoiding any of your puckered, wet skin, he instead moves his lips just to the side, clearly enjoying the act of driving you to the brink of insanity. You can feel the smile he wears as he teases you further, switching over to your other thigh.

Almost impatiently, you wrap one of your legs around his shoulder, arching your back when he finally lashes his tongue out to trace the outline of your flower. A heated spark ignites through your nerves, a charge of fiery need flooding your body and into your core. He seems to enjoy the breathless whine you offered in response because he does it again, inching closer and closer to your clit.

Roughly, you tangle your fingers into his long, flowing hair, pulling him closer and begging with no words for him to stop teasing and finally give you the pleasure you need. Avery finally complies, pressing his tongue right up against your clit and tracing little circles on and around it. The heat of his breath only helps further stir the coals in your womb, your back arching against the gentle curve of the world as you cry out.

He seems to deeply enjoy your keening, popping off your puckered flesh in the brief moment it takes for him to smile up at you, like a beast satisfied with the tortured screams of its prey. The way his tongue moves up, around, and down your clit makes you want to die, dirt clinging underneath your fingernails, bits of grass tearing as you claw at the ground. Still, he takes your keening reaction to double his efforts, using his fingers when his mouth is busy elsewhere, rubbing gentle little patterns in the opening of your slit.

There, you can feel your orgasm approaching as he begins to explore your core with his thumb, pushing and rubbing against the throbbing folds with some level of curiosity in his eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, a passing observation.

You’re so beyond the point of return that you could barely even draw in the words to thank him before you’re overcome with shaking trembles emanating from your very core, your insides quick to bend and break at his beckoning. It doesn’t take much more teasing from Avery before you’re crying out for him, voice cracking with pleasure and desperation, your fingers threading through his hair so tightly you don’t know where you end, and he begins.

When you are nothing more than a heaping, teary-eyed mass of trembling flesh on the ground, he crawls up from between your legs, kisses your stomach, your ribs, your breasts, your collarbone, all the way up to your mouth once more. You can taste yourself on his tongue and lips, warmer than the wine and almost twice as intoxicating, and by the wild stare in his eyes, he’s drunk with your nectar. And, quite frankly, ready to devour you, his kisses all teeth and heat, mouth dexterous against the curves, rises, and plateaus of your body, like he knows so very intimately every square centimeter of you.

There’s a hard rock length against your stomach, one that you can feel, almost tragically against your skin as he lavishes your lips and chest with his blessed attention. Even though you walked into this situation expecting a one-night stand, you don’t know, this feels light it could rocket through your life and end up becoming

“More,” you rasp, surprised that your voice is even working, ” more.”

He understands that rough and demanding command, stroking your hair with one of his free hands, mouth offering up a myriad of kisses to your neck and collarbone, an odd, overcoming need to please you emanating off of him, one like you’ve never dealt with before. Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see the familiar masks of those at the party earlier, but Avery turns your wandering gaze back to him with his insistent, feral kiss, his chest trembling with heated need.

“Do you want my cock inside you?” He asks, wanting to hear you say it.

“Please,” you almost snarl, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Hmm,” he almost manages to fool you that he could care less, but by the way his body grinds and presses against yours, he’s so, so close to traveling the radius of the earth itself to comply. You can hear the rustle of fabric as he strips away what’s left of his ensemble, moving away from your body and leaving you almost horrifically cold.

It doesn’t take a lot for him to angle your legs properly, your thigh rubbing up against his throbbing member. He’s at least gentle with how he impales you, his entrance slow and gradual, kaleidoscope eyes staring so intently into your very being that you wonder if you’ll survive the next time pleasure crashes down around you. And he feels so good, the crisp, autumn grass against your back the only thing keeping you from becoming so lost beneath his trembling body.

He must share your thoughts because even though he’s only eased in, his forehead pressed against yours, his breathing is short and shallow like he could hardly believe the pleasure your body gives him. Once he’s fully sheathed, he swears, voice quiet, yet filled to the brim with lust. You wrap your legs around his waist, hoping to feel him further, your voice and your body begging him to continue, to move, but he’s almost in a trance.

You’re impatient for movement, for that slick friction between your thighs, so you quickly take matters into your own hands. With no finesse, fueled only by spite and determination, you shift, switching positions using your legs and arms. Avery simply rolls with it, a ghostly smile on his mouth as you pin his hands to the ground, chest heaving from the effort, a layer of sweat misting your skin despite the chill of the night.

That seems to break whatever space he had retreated to, eyes lit like a roaring forest fire as he beholds your body from beneath your legs. His voice is raspy, but the demand is calm, collected, like he’s waited for thousands of years for this, for you. “Use me.”

You let out a breath, steadying yourself on his body to comply, and grind. His eyes roll back as you do, starting slowly, his back arching off the ground, his chest heaving with pleasure at the loss of control. Careful to control the pace, you let yourself be taken by the pleasure, the joining slick and hot, your core roaring with approval and greed. More, more, more.

Everything is suddenly vibrantly alive, the forest rustling with a wind you don’t feel, crickets singing hymns in the open field, the moon herself licking at your bodies with her soft, precious light. You think you hear chanting in the distance, your brain muddled with his delicious praises and lust that you don’t try to investigate, too focused on feeling his length pulse and move through your folds. Tears prick at your eyes, not from sadness, no, and you couldn’t possibly know their purpose because this feels so good, like his body was made for you.

This climax almost hurts, you felt it approaching and you knew it would be a lot, so you brace yourself, both hands gripping his shoulders like a lifeline. You look into his eyes, and you see… more, than just fundamental attraction, more than pure, unadulterated lust, but you’re so far gone you can’t pinpoint what it is, exactly, before you’re overcome.

Everything in your body is aflame, your core quaking enough to make you think, for just a brief moment, that the earth itself is tearing apart, you cry, you whine, you scream for him, and he’s there, holding onto you for dear life. Telling you that you’re perfect, you’re beautiful, that you’ll never want another man so long as your legs are wrapped around him so tightly like this. You think you believe him, gasping for air, fingernails digging into his skin hard enough to draw blood, though he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

It takes a lot of concentration to bring yourself back into your body, your soul and spirit so besotted with desire, but you manage it, feeling his hands grip your thighs so tightly his fingers may leave bruise marks. You bend forward, letting him take the reins as you try to stay present enough in the moment to kiss and nip at his neck, teeth tugging at his skin, the aftershocks still moving through your nerves like waves on a storming night. Still, though, you want him to feel what you did, to become undone by your hand.

And he does, his thrusts becoming so uneven that you begin to grind, ghosts of your orgasm weaving through your flesh and womb. A crescendo of noise seems to overtake the clearing, the air becoming like static, the hairs on your arms standing on end. Overcome, he curses and snarls in a language you don’t understand, his voice hard and soft at the same time, his hips jerking as something warm and wet pulses out of his member, filling you up and spilling out onto his pelvis.

Avery sits up, still joined within you, shaken, but startlingly and brilliantly alive, chest heaving with the effort of breathing. He presses his mouth against yours in a myriad of kisses, soft, possessive, tender, needy. There is still some amount of desire on his lips, but without the same uncontrollable yearning broiling just beneath his fevered skin like before.

Then he says your name, and a shiver goes down your spine, your very being somehow attentive to whatever he says next, as though your entire universe suddenly floods down and descends on this one, single person. He says it again, rolling it over his tongue like a wine taster, trying out each of the letters as though they offer a different kind of sweetness, his eyes just as wild as they had been when you held him pinned to the grass. A sliver of fear pierces your chest, making you want to push him onto the ground and take him again, but he has other plans.

“I’ll walk you back, dove,” he says, pressing his mouth against your collarbone, though he doesn’t kiss you again, not yet. “The sun will soon be up.”