#god the line between sexy asshole and asshole is... so difficult to walk

[candycandy00]

Little Miss Nobody Part 2 - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic

You’re a weak, lowly sorcerer who barely qualifies as an assistant, but you get the opportunity to work on a mission that includes THE Gojo Satoru. Unbeknownst to you, he finds you incredibly attractive despite privately looking down on you as a nobody. On the last night of the mission, he invites you to his hotel room. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Smut. 18+. Gojo x short/thick/curvy fem Reader. Rough sex, hair pulling, light bondage, etc. Gojo is unintentionally an asshole.

The next few weeks, Gojo filled his schedule with missions and teaching at the high school, trying to go back to his normal routines. After all, he’d had quick flings with lots of people, and he had no trouble forgetting all about them later. But somehow, he just kept being reminded of Little Miss Nobody. 

One of his students bought fancy sweets from a shop in town and shared them in class, and they tasted just like the ones she had made in the condo. A woman who passed him on the street wore the same perfume as her. He cracked a dumb joke while talking to Shoko, who didn’t react at all, and found himself thinking, “Little Miss Nobody would have laughed at that.”

While on a recent mission, he’d fucked another sorcerer, one who very clearly had no long term interest in him. Even while thrusting into them, all he could think about was how she had looked, whimpering and moaning beneath him. He could remember far too clearly how her lips had felt on his cock, how she clutched his arms, how she tasted. 

Worst of all, he couldn’t shake the image of her hurt, teary face right before she ran out the door. He really hadn’t intended to hurt her. But he knew he shouldn’t have fucked someone who clearly had feelings for him. 

He was heading for the meeting place for a new mission that would be starting in two days. It was expected to be completed in a week, just luring out and exorcising a powerful curse and a group of lesser curses that had gathered around it. They had been seen near a middle school and an apartment complex, so it would take a few days to evacuate the area. 

Gojo reached the hotel suite that had been rented for the team to use, and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the door slid open, and he found himself face to face with Little Miss Nobody. 

She looked surprised, but not shocked. Meaning she must have known they would be working together again. He wondered how she felt about that as his eyes, hidden behind his sunglasses, traveled up and down her form. 

God, she looked good. Wearing a cropped sweatshirt that revealed a thin line of skin at her soft waist with a denim skirt over a pair of dark tights, she was just as unbelievably sexy as he remembered. He was thinking of how easy it would be to hike up that skirt and rip her tights when she spoke. 

“Uh, hi. It’s been a while,” she said in a friendly tone that seemed forced. Without waiting for his reply, she turned and walked back toward the main area of the room. 

He watched her ass as she left, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to grab her and drag her into the bathroom where he could fuck her against the sink. 

But he couldn’t do that. In fact he couldn’t touch her at all. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Even if she’d be willing to sleep with him again, and that was a big if considering she was presently standing as far away from him as possible and refusing to look at him, it would only reopen the wound and pour salt inside. He wouldn’t do that to her. 

He tried to focus on the meeting, to pay attention as everyone went over the specifics of their plan. But being in the same room with her made that very difficult. His eyes kept drifting over to her. He kept imagining her on her knees between his thighs, his cum all over her pretty face. 

What was wrong with him? He’d never gotten so hung up on anyone before. Usually he lost interest after he fucked someone, easily moving on after he’d satisfied his desire for them. But in this case, sleeping with her only seemed to make him more hungry for her. 

Looks like he’d be taking extra long showers this week. 

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

You definitely never wanted to work with Gojo again. Not after everything that happened last time. You were deeply embarrassed. Not only had the two of you done extremely intimate things, but he’d casually brushed off your silly attempt to be his friend. Looking back, you should have known better. Gojo was an elite among elites. He didn’t associate with people like you. 

So when you first heard you would be working with him on another mission, you asked to be reassigned. Your superiors asked for a reason, but you couldn’t give them one. “I let Gojo take my virginity and then he basically told me to get lost” wasn’t something you told your boss. So your request for reassignment was denied, and now you found yourself standing in the same room as him, trying to blend in with the wall. 

He didn’t seem to be paying much attention to you, but it was hard to tell through those sunglasses. Maybe he didn’t even remember you. He’d probably slept with a lot of assistants on missions. You were just one more pathetic girl who tried to reach toward the sun and got burned. 

You were glad you couldn’t see his eyes. It hurt to think about how beautiful they were. It was bad enough seeing his tall, toned frame in the middle of the room, his hair falling across his forehead in that stylishly messy way that he’d perfected. 

The meeting ended, and Gojo made no attempt to speak to you. Either he didn’t want to make things even more awkward, or he really had forgotten you. Both were equally possible. 

You were the last one to leave the suite, being given the task of tidying it up in preparation for the next meetup. Some tiny, desperate part of you hoped Gojo would come back after everyone else was gone and tell you he hadn’t meant what he said last time, he really liked you and wanted to get to know you, and then… take you roughly on the table. 

It was such a stupid, delusional fantasy, one you’d tried very hard to shove from your mind. But you couldn’t help it. You wanted him to rip your clothes off and shove you onto the table, then fuck you hard until you were a crying mess. But only after telling you he wanted to have a relationship with you, be it friendship or something more. If he couldn’t do that, then having sex with him would only break your heart all over again. 

In the end, Gojo never came back that night. Because of course he didn’t. 

*********

Two days later, the mission officially began. The first part was fairly boring for Gojo. It was mainly about protecting the people as they were evacuated because of a supposed gas leak. The special grade curse hadn’t yet made an appearance, but several weaker ones had tried to hassle people. The assistants were capable of taking care of them, and Gojo only had to step in if they were being overwhelmed. 

Little Miss Nobody had only been sent out once, as she was more useful doing menial but necessary tasks at the condo. She fielded complaints from confused people forced to leave their homes and made reports. 

Gojo avoided her, mostly because she avoided him, and he didn’t want to make an uncomfortable situation worse. Also because being near her tested his self control. 

But as much as he tried to convince himself that his interest in her was purely sexual, he felt a strange sense of loneliness when he heard her talking with the others. He’d enjoyed her company on their previous mission together, and realized that he missed it. He missed the way she laughed at all his jokes, being one of the few people who got his offbeat sense of humor. 

Once he cracked a joke while she was in the room, and if he’d been a less perceptive man he might have missed the tiny giggle she tried to hold back. He didn’t know why he felt so smug about the fact that he could still make her laugh, but he did. 

One evening she made sweets in the kitchen. She didn’t specifically offer him one and he didn’t specifically ask, but she left a plate full on the counter before leaving for her own hotel room. After she was gone, Gojo went to the kitchen and ate three. They were perfect, melting in his mouth, coating his tongue with sugary goodness. He wanted to take the rest of them, but thought that might catch someone’s attention and she might hear about it. He didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. 

But what was the wrong idea? He liked her, quite a lot actually, but that didn’t change the fact that they could never be together as a couple. 

All his life, he’d figured the older folks in the Gojo clan would arrange a marriage for him once he was in his thirties. Most likely to a powerful woman from a prominent clan. They’d make a couple of babies together just so that he would have heirs but otherwise they’d live their separate lives doing whatever they wanted. Love wouldn’t be a factor at all. That’s how it was with marriages between elite members of Jujutsu society. 

He knew he would love his children regardless of who the mother was, and that was enough. He’d already felt paternal instincts toward some of his students, so despite the many flaws in his personality, he was confident that he would be a good father. 

An image suddenly popped into his mind, of Little Miss Nobody cradling an infant in her arms. He stamped it out immediately. He wouldn’t allow himself to think about that for even one moment. It just wasn’t meant to be.

Because even though he’d mostly blamed the expectations of the Gojo clan, the truth was that he agreed with them. He had a certain status within this society, a reputation to uphold. Whether he liked this girl or not was irrelevant. She just wasn’t on his level, in terms of power, wealth, influence, or social standing. As crude as it was to admit, he really did feel like he was too far out of her league. He was the strongest, the Honored One. And she was, well, a nobody. 

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

Five days into the mission, the special grade curse finally showed itself. You walked into the meeting room that morning to find people bustling about, gathering weapons and supplies. In the middle, Gojo was talking with the head strategist. An assistant you were friends with hurried by, but stopped when you called out to her. 

“It’s not just the special grade,” she said. “A bunch of low grades appeared at the middle school. It’s closed for now but we’re going to take out all the curses while Gojo deals with the special grade.”

You nodded, feeling tense already. Once every assistant had arrived, Gojo went over the plan, which was exactly what your friend described. Afterwards, you were packing up a few items in your bag when you noticed Gojo pulling the strategist aside and speaking to him. You stepped closer out of curiosity, and were shocked to hear Gojo saying your name. 

“She should stay with the car, be on standby in case something goes wrong,” he was saying. 

You bristled at that remark. Did he see you as so weak and pathetic that you couldn’t help at all? You knew you were a poor combatant but you were capable of exorcising weak curses! You couldn’t stop yourself from speaking up. 

“I can fight too,” you said, and Gojo looked at you, his blindfold making it impossible to read his expression. “There’s no reason to leave me with the car.”

There was a brief pause, then Gojo said, “Someone needs to be on standby in case there are injuries. You might need to get someone to a hospital.” His voice was authoritative. 

“But it doesn’t have to be me, right? Hikaru is exhausted. He was out late last night fighting low grades. We could switch and-“

“We’ve already planned this out and assigned roles,” he said, cutting you off with a finality you found incredibly irritating. 

You stared at him. “Do you think I’m that weak? That useless?”

His voice sounded devoid of all emotion as he replied, “Yes, I do.” Then he walked past you and out the door. 

After he was gone, the strategist stepped closer to you. “Look, I know Gojo goofs around with everyone and acts like our friend, but don’t forget who you’re talking to. He doesn’t like for people to question him, and he’s not someone you ever want to make angry. Have you ever seen him fight seriously?”

You shook your head. “No, why?”

The strategist suddenly had a fearful look in his eyes. “He’s a monster. He goes absolutely feral, ripping curses apart, those creepy eyes glowing, grinning like a maniac. He’s fucking terrifying.”

You didn’t say anything else, too hurt to form a response. Gojo had just said you were useless. You held back tears as you finished getting ready to go. 

An hour later, you were standing outside one of the cars, arms folded, waiting for the others to come back. They were inside the middle school, clearing it of curses. You got a report that the special grade had fled when Gojo appeared, and he was currently in pursuit. You knew he could take care of it, but you worried about the others. You hated that you were left out here when you could be helping them. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a young girl walking toward the entrance of the school. You sighed and headed over to tell her she had to leave the area, but before you reached her, a grotesque curse flew out of the school’s double doors, startling you. 

The girl couldn’t see it, of course, but the curse headed straight for her. You didn’t have time to think. You had to act fast, so as you sprinted toward the curse, you pulled your bag free from your shoulder and flung it at the curse to get its attention. It turned its deformed face to you, and suddenly it was flying in your direction. 

Your old high school teacher had told you once that if you weren’t a good fighter, at least be a good dodger. You waited until the curse was right at you, then you dove to the side, barely dodging its claws. It whirled around and flew at you again, this time nicking your arm as you jumped out of the way. A small trail of blood trickled down to your hand. You dodged a few more swipes, then suddenly the curse rammed you with its whole body. You were slammed against the side of the car, knocking the wind out of you and leaving you on the ground, you’re back to the car. 

The curse hovered over you, its claw in the air, preparing to slice you open. You glanced over and saw the girl watching the scene with confusion. To her it must have looked like you were being attacked by an invisible monster. You shouted for her to run, and she backed up several steps but kept watching. 

You looked up as the curse brought its claw down, but before it could make contact with you, the curse seemed to simply… explode. You didn’t know what happened for a moment. It’s like the curse was obliterated down to the last particle. Then all of a sudden Gojo was crouched beside you. 

His voice was uncharacteristically frantic as he asked, “Are you hurt?!”

You stared at him numbly, still processing that you were alive. 

“Say something,” he demanded, his hand now gripping your shoulder. He’d pulled his blindfold down and was looking you over for injuries. 

“I’m fine,” you managed to say, your voice quivering. 

He found the blood on your hand and pulled your sleeve up, then gave a sigh of relief when he saw that the cut was shallow. “You scared the shit out of me,” he muttered, still looking for any other signs of wounds. 

Gojo? Scared? It didn’t make any sense. “What are you talking about?” you asked. 

He stopped and looked at your face, his beautiful eyes shimmering. “Huh? What do you think I’m talking about?! I came to help you guys out and found you about to be killed! Of course I was scared! Why the fuck do you think I wanted you on standby?!”

You’d never seen him angry before. You still couldn’t quite comprehend why he was angry. Why did he even care? You were nothing to him, but he was implying he’d singled you out to try to keep safe. You looked away from him, unable to bear the sight of those eyes. “Why are you pretending to care about me? I’m fine, so you can go help the others-“

His lips crashed into yours, cutting off your words. It was a desperate, hungry kiss, as if he needed you like air. You were shocked at first, unmoving, but then you kissed him back, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulled you up with him, holding you in his arms, one hand in your hair as his tongue invaded your mouth. 

When he finally broke the kiss, he looked at you with lovely, lust-glazed eyes. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you this whole time,” he said. “It’s like you’re haunting me.”

You had tears in your eyes, relishing the way his strong arms felt around you. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you either! I thought you wanted nothing to do with me…”

“Oh I want to do lots of things with you. And to you,” he said, a wild look on his face. “I want to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

Your heart was thumping loudly. His words sent a thrill through you like nothing ever had before. You remembered the strategist saying Gojo went “feral” when he was fighting seriously. God, that sounded hot. You stood on your tip toes to get your mouth closer to his ear and said, “Go feral. Make a mess of me.”

When you pulled back to look at his face, you could see the change immediately. His eyes looked darker somehow, creepier, but still glowing. There was something unhinged in his expression as a crazed grin spread over his face. Ah, the strategist was right. Gojo Satoru was terrifying, and you’d never been more turned on in your life. 

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

Minutes later, Gojo was inside Little Miss Nobody’s hotel room, tearing her clothes off as fast as he could, wanting to see every inch of her again. 

Earlier, when he’d seen the curse attacking her, his heart had nearly stopped. The thought of her being killed, the idea of never seeing her again, never hearing that cute little laugh, never talking to her, never touching her again, sent a shot of fear straight through him. It forced him to admit to himself that he wanted her in his life, in one way or another. 

But first, he wanted her naked. 

When she’d made it clear that she wanted him too, and best of all that she wanted him to go absolutely wild on her, it felt like something snapped inside him. He’d always wanted to cut loose and completely lose control with someone, but he’d always been worried that he would frighten them or accidentally hurt them. But this sweet little angel told him to make a mess of her, so how could he refuse? 

Once he had all her clothes off, he shoved her face down on the bed and climbed on behind her, lifting her ass up and spreading her thighs. He had a great view of her dripping pussy, and he hurried to open his pants. All he could think about was being inside her, stirring up her insides, making her scream. He roughly pressed her face down against the pillow and jerked her arms behind her back, causing her to make a surprised gasping sound. 

He pulled his blindfold from around his neck and used it to tie her wrists together, which left her in what had to be an embarrassing and uncomfortable position. But fuck, she looked hot like that, her knees the only thing holding her up, keeping her ass and widely open thighs elevated while her face was smushed into the pillows. She was completely helpless, an adorable little lamb just waiting to be slaughtered. And she was so wet it was literally running down her plump thighs and making damp stains on the sheets. 

Fuck, he wanted to ruin her. 

He squeezed her ass with one hand, hard enough to leave bruises the shape of his fingers, and leaned over her. “What do you want me to do to my naughty girl?”

She had her face turned to one side, and tried to look up at him. “A-anything you want,” she said, her voice cracking. 

“Anything? Are you sure?” His hand moved down between her legs and felt the wetness there, lightly smearing it around. “What if I want to destroy this needy little pussy?”

She squirmed under his touch, her absurdly erotic body jiggling in all the best ways. But she managed to turn her neck enough to meet his gaze as she said, “Please, do it!”

He grinned as he grabbed the sides of her ass and shoved his cock into her dripping cunt, going all the way in, making her draw in a sharp breath and clench around him instantly. She was still so fucking tight, he’d never felt anything like it. He pulled almost the whole way out, then slammed back into her, beginning to thrust roughly. He could feel his tip hitting her cervix, and she made sweet little cries each time, her bound hands balled into fists, tears leaking out of her eyes. 

This was what he’d been craving. Her crying beneath him, coating his cock in her arousal, shaking and jerking with his thrusts, and loving every moment of it. 

Her moans and screams were partially muffled by the pillows, so he reached down and grabbed a handful of her hair, using it to pull her up so that she was almost upright. With her arms tied behind her back, her full breasts stuck out even more, bouncing each time he rammed into her. He reached around with his free hand and squeezed one of them, and she moaned as she arched her back. 

Still gripping her hair, he turned her head to the side, and leaned his own face around so that he could kiss her mouth. Her eyes stayed open, and she was staring at him in wonder. He couldn’t imagine what expression he was wearing at the time. He’d lost all sense of things like that as soon as he started fucking her, but from her reaction, he probably looked like a feral beast. 

Also from her reaction, the way her pussy clenched him, she loved it. 

His hand left her breast and slid down between her legs, his fingers quickly finding her clit. She gasped, moaning out, “Gojo!”

“Satoru,” he corrected her with a whisper in her ear. 

She didn’t say it, only making little “ah ahhh” sounds that were delicious enough on their own, but he wanted to hear his name in that cute voice of hers. “Say it,” he demanded, giving her clit a pinch that made her jump. 

“S-Satoru,” she said, breathing out his name in a sigh. 

His mouth found her neck, and he ran his tongue along it as his fingers aggressively stroked her clit, his cock still plunging deeply into her. 

“Satoru! Satoru!” She was crying out his name properly now, and he realized she was cumming around his cock, her whole body trembling and then going limp, only held up by his hand in her hair. He released her, letting her fall face first back onto the mattress where he continued fucking her as hard as he could until he came so deep inside of her, he imagined it filling her womb. 

When he’d finally bottomed out, he collapsed onto the bed beside her, panting. Her face was turned toward him, and she looked thoroughly blissed out. But after a few minutes, she wiggled a bit and said, “Can you untie me now?”

His eyes raked over her prone position, her arms behind her, her ass still in the air and her knees still spread apart. He trailed one hand over her backside. “Maybe I’ll just keep you this way,” he said. 

She wiggled again. “Very funny,” she told him. 

He dropped his voice to a low tone, staring into her eyes. “Who says I’m joking? Maybe I’ll take you home, tie you up in my basement, fuck all your holes every day…”

She laughed then. “You won’t. You’re not that kind of person.”

He grinned, rising up and untying his blindfold from her wrists. “Of course not. But thinking about it kinda turned you on, didn’t it?”

She eased her arms around in front of her, wincing slightly. They were probably sore. “A little,” she admitted, then snuggled in closer to him in the bed. 

He wrapped his arms around her. “We can do it just for fun sometime. Spend a weekend at my place, full of nothing but debauchery. Well, maybe debauchery and pancakes. But only those two things.”

She giggled, but then went silent. He looked down to find her asleep in his arms. He gave the top of her head a light kiss, then fell asleep himself. 

***********

When you woke up, Gojo was walking out of the bathroom of your hotel room. He was naked, glistening with water. He’d apparently showered. He dried off in front of you, seeming to enjoy the way your eyes drank in his muscular form. Then he put all his clothes back on except the blindfold. 

You were sitting up, the sheets pooled around your waist. Your whole body felt sore, but in a very satisfying way. You crawled out of bed and went to take a shower yourself. When you came out, already dried off, you hurried to find some clean underwear and pull them on. 

“I’m gonna head back first,” Gojo was saying. “It’ll look suspicious if we go back at the same time.”

You nodded. It probably wasn’t a good idea to let everyone know the two of you were sleeping together during an active mission. You pulled a pair of jeans up your hips. 

“Oh, and be sure not to mention this to anyone,” he added. 

You nodded again. That sounded reasonable. “Yeah, I guess we shouldn’t mention anything until the mission is officially complete.”

He stared at you for a moment, and you felt a strange sense of dread. “Actually,” he said, “let’s not mention it even after the mission is complete.”

You looked up at him after you pulled a T-shirt over your head. “Why not?” 

Again, he hesitated while looking at you. Those eyes made you suddenly feel nervous. They could be intimidating sometimes. “Look,” he said, and his tone of voice sent a spike of alarm through your heart, “this thing we’ve got going on between us, we need to keep it that way. Just between us. No one else needs to know about it. We can visit each other in private. You’re gonna come stay the weekend with me, right?”

You felt like he’d thrown a bucket of cold water on your face. “Are you ashamed of me?”

A third time, he hesitated. And the fact that he had to hesitate to answer that particular question said it all. “No, it’s not that. You’re beautiful, you’re sweet, you’re even stronger than I thought from what I saw today, but…” He trailed off. 

“But?” you prompted, dreading the answer. 

He sighed. “But I have a unique position in Jujutsu society. I can’t just date whoever I want. There’s a lot of expectations dumped on me.”

You tried to keep your voice from quivering as you said, “And I don’t meet those expectations?”

He looked you in the eyes again, and you almost flinched. “No,” he said, “I’m sorry, but you don’t.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes. You wiped them with the back of your hand. “So… I’m not good enough for you.”

He took one step closer to you, and you backed up a step in turn, causing him to freeze. “Don’t say it like that,” he told you, “it’s more complicated than that. But I want to keep seeing you. We can make this work…”

“And I’ll just be your dirty little secret?” The question escaped you without warning. You couldn’t stop yourself. You’d thought you wanted any sort of relationship with him, but to know that he was embarrassed of you? It hurt too much. 

He suddenly looked angry. “Hey, I’m the one who gets the shit end of the deal. In a few years I’ll be shoved into a loveless marriage with some boring woman I don’t give a fuck about.”

“And what will I be then,” you asked, “your hidden mistress?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure what else you want from me. What else did you think this could be?”

You stopped bothering to wipe your tears, letting them drip freely down your face. “You’d already decided all this before you kissed me back at the car, hadn’t you?”

He looked away from you. “Yeah,” he answered. 

You were shaking. “So you’ve thought all this time I was beneath you, not worthy of being your girlfriend, and you still came here and made love to me?”

He didn’t meet your eyes, and he didn’t answer. His silence was enough. 

“Oh God, you’re using me for sex! You just saved me today so you could fuck me again!”

He looked at you then. “That’s not true-“

“How could you do this to me? How could you make me think you care about me, make me think we could be together? How could you get my hopes up?! I feel so stupid, again. Maybe people are right about you. Maybe you are a monster.”

He stared at you, his expression cold and blank. He didn’t argue with what you said. 

Your heart was breaking and he just stared at you with those eyes that you loved so much. It hurt so badly you couldn’t stand it. You had to say one more thing. “All this time you thought I wasn’t good enough for you. But if this is how you treat people, maybe you’re not good enough for me.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again. He muttered, “I’m sorry,” and walked past you. He stopped near the dresser and laid something small on it, then left the room. 

You walked over to the dresser. Lying there on it was a single shimmering earring, one you’d been missing since your last mission with Gojo. Had he been holding onto it this whole time? You couldn’t even think about what that meant, because within seconds you collapsed to the floor and began sobbing. 

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[flannelpunkcalum]

“you wish i wanted you.” Or “I’d rather blow a chainsaw.” With Calum. I can’t choose!

*2007 meme* why not both? as always, i am writing this way too late at night, so if it doesn’t make sense it’s not my fault

“That’s Calum Hood?”

Y/N looked away frantically. “Keep your voice down.” 

“You didn’t say he was hot.”

“Keep your voice down.” 

Y/N didn’t look up from her notes until she was sure Calum was out of earshot. “He’d be hot if he wasn’t such an asshole.” She admitted, very reluctantly. 

Her friend Arya was pretending to fan herself with her calculator when Y/N looked over. “If I had known he’d be here, I’d come to lecture more often.”

“Stop.” Y/N said, leaning back in her chair. They had a good five minutes before lecture started, and thankfully Calum was up at the front of the class asking the prof a question. But she knew what came next. He’d come and sit down behind her and distract her all through the fuckin’ lecture, rattling his pen around or texting with his keyboard sounds and god knows what else. And then, at some point, he’d ask for her number. He did it every time and honestly? If she ever snapped he was first on her list. “He doesn’t even like me, he just likes to piss me off. He’s always making things sexual. Like, we get it, you’ve got eight whole pubes.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to give him your number?” Arya said. Y/N prayed she was joking. 

“Frankly, I’m good.” She said, ducking her head back down as Calum headed over to his usual spot and, by proxy, her usual spot. 

Y/N didn’t have to look up to know he was smirking. She could practically smell it on him. “Morning, sunshine.” 

“Ain’t your sunshine, sunshine.” She said without glancing up. He did this all the time; like yeah, it was so funny to be flirting with her, haha. 

“Mm, more than you’ll ever know.” Calum said back, just as easily. Bitch. Her ears felt hot. 

Y/N knew she should just ignore him, like she did every other day. She didn’t know what made this morning different; maybe it was her friend beside her, maybe she’d just had enough. Regardless, for the first time all fucking semester, she turned around in her seat to face him. “Calum Hood.” She said, “What’s you problem? Like, seriously, are you done?”

To his credit, Calum only looked surprised for a second. “Not gonna be done till you admit how much you like this.” 

Why on Earth had she given him her last name? Well, and first name. First day of class, she hadn’t known how fucking annoying he’d get. “You wish I was into you.” She said, but he’d won this round; she’d hesitated too long, she could feel it fall flat. 

Calum smiled outright. It was better than his smirk, at least - “Well, when you figure it out, you know where to find me.” Actually, no, it was just as bad. 

“There’s nothing to figure.“ Y/N said, turning her red face away.She hated how easily he could rile her up. 

Calum was mercifully silent for a second, until she heard him shift in his seat. Then he was so close she could feel the warmth off his skin. “You gonna tell me you’re not thinking about me? Like you don’t watch me walk away? Y/N-”

“Alright,” the prof said, “let’s get started.”

Calum drew away, but Y/N couldn’t move for a long moment. She didn’t know how to - well, she knew how to react. He was just toying with her; she needed to call him an asshole and move on. For some reason it just didn’t come.  

“You’re so pretty when you blush.”

Well, apparently she could call him an asshole. 

hey y/n it’s cal from lecture

oh my godhow did you get this number

that doesnt matter

was it arya???

yeah lol she totally sold you outi actually just needed to ask you for the lecture notes from the third class

yeah whateveryou can get them from me monday

it’s an emergency

???

i really want to see you

drop dead

:((((((((((are you at the library? i’ll bring you coffeepleaseill stop bothering you in lecture

sounds like you’re bothering me outside lecture now

please? i need it for the mid

ughventi dark caramel latte with an extra shot i’m in the earth sciences section

you’re an angel

you’re satan

at least you think i’m hot ;)

don’t push it

"So, you got plans for reading week?”

“None that involve you.” Y/N said breezily. She’d given Calum her notes, and he’d taken a few pictures of them, but now he was sat across from her cheerfully working through problems like she wasn’t glaring daggers at him.

“Ouch.” Calum hissed, having at least the dignity to look wounded. “You’ve got such a smart mouth on you, Y/N-”

“Thanks-”

“-I’ve got something for you to do with it.” Calum smirked at her again. Didn’t his mouth ever get tired? 

“I’d rather blow a chainsaw, thanks all the same.” Y/N said. She was trying her best to keep her eyes on her work. 

“I was gonna say you could have one of my granola bars, but since you mention it…” 

“Jesus Christ,” Y/N murmured. 

“You can just call me Cal.”

“Do you ever fuckin’ stop talking?” Calum ducked his head down and went back to his work, but Y/N couldn’t let this lie another second. “Real talk, thought, why do you keep hitting on me? Is it really that fuckin’ funny to you?”

Calum huffed out a long breath through his nose, staring at his work. “You know what?” He said after a moment, lifting his head. “I have no fucking clue why I want you so bad. But you know what, Y/N, if you think you’re too good for me or whatever why don’t you just move?” 

What the hell was he saying? “I don’t think- I was here first.” Y/N insisted.

“No, I mean in lecture. You sit in the same spot every class when you know I’m just gonna flirt with you until you go nuts. Do you get off on tearing me down or what?”

“I don’t get off on anything you do. It’s easy to see the slides, and I shouldn’t have to move because Mr. fuckin’ Universe thinks its funny to try and play me.” 

"Wait, what?”

Y/N sighed. “Mr. Universe. You know, like the bodybuilding pagent, since you’re clearly just looking for attention and you’re compensating-”

"No, no, I mean- did you think I was just trying to fuck with you?”

Y/N took a sip of her coffee so she didn’t have to answer him. She needed at least a half-second to process this. Calum looked hurt. She didn’t think she liked it. “I mean, you did offer to make strip flash cards once.” 

Calum didn’t take the bait, didn’t even pretend to laugh at the memory. “This whole time, you thought I was just- Y/N, Jesus, I’ve been begging for your attention for months. I can’t stop thinking about you. I saved your seat all day the one time you skipped, just in case. I bought you a six dollar coffee.”

On the surface, this didn’t sound like much - rom-com punchlines, that was all. And yet Y/N felt her stomach twist. Calum looked so soft in his beanie, looking up at her under his eyebrows. Small as these gestures had been, they were sincere, every one. “Oh,” she said, since her brain had apparently short-circuited. “Sorry.”

“S’alright.” Calum said. 

They both bent their heads back down and pretended to work. 

“Hey, Calum said, breaking their small silence, “if I asked you out without, like, making a blowjob joke, would you say yes?”

Y/N felt her heart start to beat again. “Only one way to find out.”

[drakenology]

Their S/O is shy. With Bakugo, Todoroki and Midoriya!

author’s note: HIIII! So I got this idea from work today. I’m a shy, reserved person in real life and I imagined a headcannon where y/n was an uwu girl. enjoy! I’m going to do the Bakusquad next time. 

warnings: suggestive themes, light violence, fluff, and cussing.

Bakugo 

thinks you’re the cutest

teases you a lot. 

will smack the shit outta anyone who tries taking advantage of your kind and shy demeanor.

loves how your shyness comes to play in the bedroom; he likes trying to get you to loosen up a little.

Would butter you up with compliments and praises.

“I dunno what you’re so shy about. You’re fuckin hot.”

likes how he’s the complete opposite of you

VERY protective over you. 

You and Bakugo are out at a restaurant on a date. You’re looking through the menu to see what you want, not being able to decide between the burger or the quesadilla (yum!). 

“I think I’m gonna get the steak. What about you, babe?” Katsuki asked, peering over to look at your menu. 

“I dunno.. I think the burger sounds good. I think that’s what I’ll get” You say, sitting your menu down. Bakugo is staring down your dress, oogling at your ample cleavage popping out of the v-neckline. You notice his gaze, blushing profusely. 

“S-Stop it, Katsuki.” You say, covering up your chest with your menu. He smirks and runs his hands up your thighs causing you to fold your legs to try and stop the wetness coming from your panties. Even though you never admit it out loud, you loved when he groped and stared at you. It made you feel like the sexiest woman in the world. Katsuki grabs your chin and kisses you.

“You’re gonna get it tonight, princess.” He whispered in your ear. You blush as you notice the waiter coming your way, swatting Katsuki’s hands away from you. The waiter walked towards your table and sat your drinks down.

“Thanks. Ready to order, babe?” Bakugo looks towards you. You nod, feeling a little nervous to order yourself. You were very soft spoken, so ordering food was a bit of a challenge for you. But today, you had worked up the courage to order without Bakugo’s help. 

“Hi, u-um.. I’ll have the burger, please. Also could I get that without any onions? I’m allergic.” You say, looking down at your menu instead of at the waiter. 

“Certainly. And for you, sir?” The waiter said, motioning to Bakugo.

“I’ll have the steak please. Well done. I don’t like my steak pink. If I see pink, me and my lady are leaving without payin’, ya got that!?” Bakugo said aggressively. To anyone not knowing him, they think he’s being rude and difficult but you know he’s just trying to make the waiter nervous on purpose as a joke. 

“Yes, sir. Coming right up.” The waiter says, leaving in a hurry. 

“Katsuki, you’re giving the waiter a hard time.” You say softly, your voice sounding like a disappointed mother. He sighed, grabbing your hand and kissing it. 

“Alright, I’ll lay off.” He said, laughing. You two chatter about what you guys did for hero work that day, laughing and enjoying each other’s company until the food came. Finally, the food comes; the aroma coating your nose as you get excited to eat.

“Enjoy.” The waiter said dryly, clearly not liking Bakugo’s attitude. You both shrug it off and prepare to dig in. Bakugo seemed to like his steak but your burger had onions all over it. Even if you had picked them off, it still wouldn’t have been safe to eat. You sigh, poking at your burger in disappointment.

“What’s wrong? How come you’re not eating?” Bakugo asked, his mouth full as he wiped steak sauce from his mouth. You shake your head, not wanting to make a scene. He looked at your plate, seeing your burger teething with onions. He’s way angrier than you are, waving the waiter over to your table with fervor. 

“K-Katsuki, I can just take them off it’s not-” You’re interrupted by Bakugo, who isn’t having any of it; already knowing what you’re about to say. The waiter clearly didn’t like Bakugo’s attitude so he messed your order up on purpose because he noticed how soft-spoken you are. He didn’t chance fucking up Katsuki’s order because he knew he’d have a fit and probably kick his ass if he got short with him. 

“No Y/N, it is a big deal. Look at it! It’s got onions all over it. You can’t eat that shit, you’ll get sick even if you pick ‘em off. I’m givin that asshole a piece of my mind!” He shouts, still trying to get the waiter’s attention who was clearly ignoring you two. 

“HEY! I KNOW YOU FUCKING SEE ME. GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, NOW.” Bakugo shouts. Oh god. The waiter rolled his eyes, walking over to your table.

“Is there a problem, sir?” He asks, not eager to help at all. 

“You’re fuckin’ right there’s a problem. What did my girl order, huh?” Bakugo says, standing from his seat. 

“Katsuki, please.” You say, tugging his sleeve trying to get him to sit back down.

“She ordered a burger.” the waiter answered with attitude. 

“Yeah, with NO ONIONS you idiot! GO TELL THEM TO FUCKING FIX IT OR I’M TELLIN’ YOUR BOSS AND YOU’RE FUCKED.” Bakugo yelled, grabbing the waiter by his collar. The waiter; scared out of his mind, is now sweating with fear. 

“V-Very sorry, sir. I’ll fix that for you right away!” The waiter said, running back to the kitchen to fix your order. Bakugo sat back down in his seat, going back to eat his steak as if nothing happened. The whole restaurant was staring at you both, you sinking into your chair from all the eyes on you. 

“THE FUCK ARE YALL LOOKIN AT!?” Bakugo yelled, getting everyone in the room to turn their attention back to their own tables. He looked back to you, seeing a frown on your face. 

“Don’t you think you went a bit too far?” You ask, crossing your arms. 

“Nope.” He said, feeding you some of his steak until your new burger came. 

“Nobody messes with my baby.”

Todoroki

is such a mom omg

just as protective as Bakugo (if not more)

encourages you to open up

supports your small wins (awww)

fucks the shyness outta you hehe

loves you and your shyness no matter what 

You and Shoto are getting ready to go out when you’re having a difficult time deciding what to wear. You had pulled out a few garments to wear; a red strapless bodycon dress that Shoto got you to accentuate them curves of yours or a simple bulky sweater and jeans. You were a little nervous to dress sexy for Shoto, unsure of yourself and your body not to mention all the potential unwarranted stares from others. You sigh and start dressing yourself in the boring outfit you picked out and sat down at your vanity to do your makeup. Shoto walked in the bedroom from your bathroom to see the dress sitting on the bed. 

“Why aren’t you wearing your dress, love?” He asked, concern written all over his face as he stood next to your vanity. 

“I-I just don’t want all the attention on me. I’m nervous. What if everyone stares at me?” You say, tears burning your eyes. Shoto takes you by your hand and leads you to the full body mirror mounted on the wall of your bedroom. He pushed your hair back and kissed your neck, running his hands on either side of your body. 

“You don’t have to worry about the stares. I’m going to be there to protect you, okay?” He says, sweetly kissing your cheek. You smile warmly and nod. He was right. You change into the dress and slipped on some heels to match, giggling at the praises and encouragement from your boyfriend as he reached for your hand to kiss it. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” Shoto said, taking a good look at your curves. He feels himself harden at the sight of you, involuntarily groaning as he pulled you close to him for a deep kiss. 

“How about we stay in tonight instead?” 

He was determined to make you open up... one way or any other teehee.

Midoriya 

loves you SO MUCH OMG

doesn’t care that you’re a little shy and soft-spoken

speaks for you when needed

stands up for you

loves to motivate you 

thinks you’re sinfully adorable

You and Midoriya are walking through the supermarket, shopping for food for your shared home. Izuku was always such a huge help, lifting all the heavy things and putting them in the cart or reaching for things that were too high for you to reach. You loved shopping with him and he loved it too because he could look after you and spend time with you at the same time. 

“Crap, I forgot we need meats for dinner tonight. What did you want again, Izuku?” You asked, looking up from your shopping list. 

“Pork, please. You always make the best pork curry, Y/N” He said sweetly, kissing your forehead. You blush and walk over to the meat department while Izuku gathers the rest of the ingredients for dinner. You stand in line with your number and waited your turn patiently. Suddenly, this big burly man comes out of nowhere and cuts right in front of you in line. You hated when situations like this happen because it was always so hard for you to stand up for yourself. You gulp and muster up enough courage to confront him...sorta?

“U-um excuse me.. I was ne-” You’re interrupted by the man shouting over you.

“Shut up, bitch! I’m in a hurry so why don’t you just wait a little while longer.” He yells. You’re shocked at how he spoke to you, clearly this man lacked manners. You stand there, dumbfounded and scared. You were so frustrated with yourself you’re brought to tears, wiping them away as you stand in line and wait your turn. 

“Bitch?” you hear a familiar voice repeat. It was Midoriya, standing beside you with your cart in toe. “You thought this woman was alone, didn’t you? Fucking coward.” Izuku walks towards the man, intimidatingly calm. The man scoffs until he sees Izuku’s face. The pro hero Deku was standing right in front of him and he was angry.

“H-Hey.. I had no idea okay? I’ll back o-”

“If it was me standing there would you have cut in front of me and called me a bitch?” Izuku asked, grabbing the man by his shirt. “You get off on bullying women don’t you, you spineless bastard? Think that just because your big and ugly that you can just push people around? People like you make me sick. Get in the back of fucking line before I lose my temper.” The man does so, glaring at you as he walked to the back of the line. You sigh in relief as your number is called, Izuku leading you to the counter with his hand on your back. He turned around and glared at the man who gave you a hard time one last time. 

“What would you like to order, miss?” The butcher said with a smile.

“Pork, please.” You sigh.

[timelordthirteen]

Desperate Souls 4/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit

Summary: A broke and heartbroken Belle French comes to an agreement with Mr. Gold to do a little modeling, just for him, in exchange for the money she desperately needs, but it isn’t long before they both realize they’ve made a deal they didn’t understand. Based on this prompt.

Chapter Summary: The second meeting goes unexpectedly, once again, as Gold reveals more than he intends.

Notes: Thank you so much for all the comments on this fic. I honestly thought it wouldn't be that well received as this Gold is sort of hard to like in places. I'm really enjoying writing this darker version of him, even if it's hard at times to get into his headspace. Enjoy the first of many Skin Deep references, and a slight tick up towards the ultimate rating of this fic. ;) This is the nightie Belle is wearing. Also omg this is unbeta'd and a hot mess, sorry.

[AO3]

If Belle thought that seeing Mr. Gold in the week leading up to her first evening at his house was awkward, then the week after it was excruciating.

All she could think every time she so much as saw him walking by on the street was he’s seen me in my underwear! It made for several days of fierce blushes and unfinished lunches. Her mind kept replaying the moment when she’d turned around to face him again, and he’d let the softest, quietest lovely slip out. She still hadn’t figured out if he’d even meant to say it out loud. It was hard to believe that seeing her in a glorified nightgown had rendered Gold that speechless, especially given how well known he was for having a sharp tongue. She’d witnessed him giving Keith Nottingham a dressing down last summer, right outside the mechanics shop where Keith worked. Even though Keith was well over six feet tall and clearly worked out, Gold made him seem tiny, almost insignificant.

She grinned at the memory.

Keith was a jerk in every sense of the word, and Gold verbally tearing him a new asshole was the least that he deserved. But that was the kind of presence Gold had in the town; the mayor, the sheriff, the district attorney, they all acquiesced to him. Rumors said he had dirt on everyone, that nothing happened within thirty miles of the town line that he didn’t know about. She wondered sometimes whether that was part of why he’d made this deal with her, so that he would know something about her as well, so that he could have that control.

The thought was not comforting, but it was confusing. In theory, she had as much on Gold as he did on her in this situation. In fact, her position would seem far more sympathetic, if embarrassing, and if anyone did find out - god fucking forbid - she highly doubted they would take Gold’s side. It wasn’t the same as whatever he knew about Albert Spencer or Regina Mills, that made them go white as a ghost whenever Gold hinted at it under his breath.

So what the hell was his motivation?

Belle sighed, and regarded herself in the mirror. She’d left the library right on time, and decided that tonight she wouldn’t shower before going to Gold’s. It was a waste of time if every Thursday evening she was going to come home feeling the need to do it again. Instead she sat down to touch up her makeup and hair out of some odd desire to look as nice as possible. It was another one of the things that confused her. She should have said the hell with it, and not cared if her hair needed a good brushing, or if her lipstick had worn off. Yet she did. She cared how she looked, and for as much as Gold was paying her, she figured he might care too.

Last night she’d even put polish on her toenails, a light, shimmery pink, and gave herself a mini pedicure. If she was going to be barefoot again, then that was part of the package too. She’d look as pretty as she could, head to toe - literally, and that way if Gold let anything else slip out, then perhaps he might have reason to mean it.

Belle arrived at Mr. Gold’s house perfectly on time.

Her knock sounded at exactly one minute till seven, she’d checked her phone as she came up the front sidewalk to make sure, and the door opened right as the grandfather clock in the living room chimed the top of the hour.

“Miss French.” Gold’s mouth curved as he gave her a brief, appraising look before stepping back to allow her inside. “Right on time tonight.”

The first thing that she noticed was the bold, pink dress shirt beneath his pinstripe suit. She had noticed a while ago that he preferred a splash of color in his wardrobe, which was usually done through a striking tie or pocket square, but everyone once in a while there was something unexpected; last week it had been his checkered shirt, this week it was a brilliant pink. There was an eccentricity to his style that she appreciated. He appeared very reserved in his manner and dress, yet these little touches reflected something else entirely, something that kept people guessing.

Once again she caught a hint of something from the kitchen, tomatoes and garlic and something spicy. Spaghetti sauce, she assumed, and she made a happy noise, inhaling the mouthwatering scent as Gold once again took her coat and hung it up.

“Well, now I’m even hungrier,” she said. “Does it always smell delicious in here?”

He frowned. “You haven’t eaten?”

Bell shrugged. “Didn’t want to eat and then try on clothes, you know?”

He let out a gumbling hum and motioned for her to go ahead of him. “I assume you know where things are?”

She nodded and stopped by the door to the powder room. “Yup.”

“I need to finish cleaning up,” he said, moving past her and into the short hallway to the kitchen. “Will be just a moment.”

As soon as he turned his back, she opened the bathroom door and stepped inside. Her stomach was a mess, unable to decide between hunger pangs and the same vaguely nauseous feeling as last week. She set her purse in the same place on the set of shelves set beside the sink, and slipped off her shoes. She was more than halfway undressed, trousers off and blouse completely unbuttoned, before she thought to look at what Gold had put out for her, and stopped.

The nightie hung on the same padded hanger on the back of the door, looking delicate and pretty and oddly foreboding. It was a light, rosy pink and made of a stretchy cotton blend that was more practical than it was sexy, as was the little robe that went with it, but what her eyes were fixed on was the plunging neckline covered in lace. She swallowed and turned away, letting her blouse fall over her shoulders to catch at her wrists. The chemise from last week was the most unrevealing and basic thing she had, she’d known that, but knowing what else there was to be worn and seeing it hanging in front of her were two different things.

Reaching back, she unhooked her bra and then drew it down before hanging it over one of the posts framing the shelves along with her blouse. Turning back to the door, she took the nightie off the hanger and blanched when she saw the panties beneath it, dangling from one of those metal clips made to hold skirts or pants in place. Her eyes closed and she took a slow breath.

A beat later, she slipped the nightie over her head.

The skirt of it fell just to the tops of her thighs, barely covering her in the front and back, much shorter than what she’d worn last week which was as long as some of her dresses. This was undeniably sexual, meant to tease, and suddenly she was glad there was matching underwear to put on beneath it. She shoved her navy blue pair down and then took them off to lay folded on her trousers. The sensation was strange, so she quickly pulled on the matching panties, and then faced herself in the mirror.

The nightie clipped in the back like a bra, just under where the straps criss-crossed, and it took her a moment to adjust everything to where it needed to be. The cups were soft and lined, giving her breasts a little more coverage than the black silk did, for which she was grateful, although the deep dip in the front showed off just how much cleavage she didn’t have. The panties were the same soft cotton blend as the rest of it, with matching lace at the waist that stretched without digging into anything.

On the whole, now that she had it all on, it didn’t feel so bad. She had a sundress with the same sort of straps and clasp in the back, and aside from the length of the skirt it wasn’t that different. All in all it was actually comfortable enough to sleep in during the summer, she thought, which was sort of why she’d bought it in the first place. It made her wonder if Gold was going in some kind of order, working his way up to what he thought was the most risque and scandalous.

The robe was still on the hanger and she eyed it for a few seconds, trying to decide if she should put it on or not. It was part of what she’d purchased, and Gold had put it out with the nightie, but donning another layer meant she’d probably have to take it off. It was going to be a bit difficult to model the nightie if it was covered up with something else, but given how chilled she’d been last time, she thought she could get away with wearing it at least for a few minutes.

Sighing, she tied the sash of the robe at her waist and then eased open the door to peek into the hallway. Gold was still in the kitchen, if the clang of a pot being set in the sink was anything to go by, so she stepped out and hurried into the study. The doors were closed again, the fire roaring even bigger than last time, and she started to smile. It seemed he might have noticed that she was cold and made accommodations. It was strangely thoughtful, much as his invite to have dinner was, and she struggled to know what to make of all of it.

There was another noise from the kitchen, so she closed the doors quietly, and gave the room a more thorough going over. She’d been so nervous last time that all she’d noticed was the general layout of the room. Assuming she had a few minutes until Gold joined her, she took a leisurely stroll around the space, her eyes scanning all the shelves and walls filled with pieces from Gold’s various collections.

The china cabinet opposite Gold’s chair was lit up this time with two small lights mounted above the top shelf. Belle came to stand in front of it, attracted by the light glinting unusually off of something inside. Her eyes went wide when she saw each shelf was full. Two vases sat on the bottom with an ornate oil lamp between them, dishes painted with landscape scenes, a silver tray beside an array of delicate crystal figurines, and on the top shelf, just at her eye level was the strangest tea set she’d ever seen.

Thin white porcelain had been adorned with flowers, painted in such great detail and outlined in such a way that they looked three dimensional, as though they had been plucked out of a garden. They looked so delicate that the petals might fall free if they were touched, but each cup and saucer as well as the pot and the tray it sat on looked as if they had been broken into a hundred pieces and glued back together with liquid gold.

“Kintsugi.”

Gold’s voice startled Belle, and she backed away from the cabinet as if she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

“What?”

His lips curved as he took a leisurely step towards her. “Kintsugi,” he repeated. “That’s what they call it.”

She looked from him to the tea set and back again, until he was standing next to her. “Kint - kintsu-gi?”

He nodded. “It means golden repair in Japanese, the art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer and gold dust.”

Her eyes widened. “Gold dust? Like actual gold?” He gave another nod, and she shook her head, shifting her gaze back to the cabinet, following one of the lines of gold as it trailed from the rim of a cup down through a red rose and over to meet another line that encircled the handle. “Sounds expensive.”

“But beautiful,” added Gold.

Their eyes met in the mirrored back of the cabinet, and Belle held her breath until he looked away and went on to explain how he came to find the set. It had been packed in newspaper in a cardboard box, set inside a bigger box marked FREE at an estate sale in Vermont. Most of the pieces were already broken or chipped in some way, but there were a few books he was interested in at the very bottom so he bought the entire lot. Months later, he came across the box again in one of the upstairs bedrooms, and had the idea to try his hand at repairing it in this way.

“So, you made this?” she asked, unable to suppress the surprise and wonder in her voice.

“Aye,” he said. His voice was low and very close to her ear, and she gripped the knot of the robe tightly. “I fixed all the bits that were already broken, filled in missing pieces with things I had laying around, and smoothed all the jagged edges with extra lacquer.”

Belle shook her head slowly. She couldn’t imagine the patience and care it must have taken to create something so unique and beautiful, particularly when it was incomplete. It was - pleasing, wonderful even, and once again she was struck by the strange dichotomy that was Storybrooke’s Mr. Gold.

“Is it - I mean can you actually, um, use it? Once it’s like this?”

He nodded, smiling crookedly. “The lacquer is made from the sap of a very specific tree, and the gold is dusted over it while it’s still wet and sealed inside, and once it’s all done and hardened, it’s perfectly safe to drink from. I’ve personally used that cup there.”

He pointed to the very cup Belle had been admiring, the one with the fine line splitting the red rose in two, and she smiled. “You made so much beauty out of something so broken.”

“Even chipped cups have some use, don’t they?”

His question surprised her, and she looked over to find him watching her, his expression as unreadable as ever. “I think,” she said, “that in this case the best teacup is chipped.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and abruptly, he turned and crossed the room to the same chair he’d taken before. Belle blew out a slow breath, her mind spinning and struggling to wrap itself around the sudden shift from their conversation to the purpose of her being here. It was as if her reply had struck a nerve, but she wasn’t sure how.

She heard the creak of the leather as he sat, and after a long moment, she turned away from the china cabinet and its precious contents, and walked to the end of the ottoman. She licked her lips as her hands went to the knot of her robe, and lifted her eyes to his. The end of the sash pulled free easily, the pressure on her waist releasing as the two sides of the robe slid open. She swore she heard his breath hitch, the slight little hiccup and inhale of air, but he otherwise remained completely still as she shrugged her shoulders, sending the robe shimmying down her arms.

It landed on the ottoman behind her with a muted wisp, and she took another step forward. The edge of the nightie brushed her thighs, reminding her of how short it was, and she felt a heat that wasn’t from the fire creep up her neck. She bit her lip as her hands came up to her stomach and then dropped to her sides, unsure of what to do with them.

Gold meanwhile was just staring dazedly at her. His head lolled slightly to one side and then straightened, as one might when observing the way the light illuminated a work of fine art. The thought was absurd, and she took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling against the lace.

“Mr. Gold?” she asked softly. “Would you - would you like a drink?”

The question brought him out of the odd trance he’d been in, and he shifted in his seat before meeting her eyes. “Yes, a scotch please, Miss French.”

She turned and made her way around the end of the ottoman, crossing between it and the fireplace, feeling his eyes on her all the way to the bar. She was so grateful to be out of the heat for a minute that even the cold floor felt nice on her feet. For some reason the room was much warmer tonight than it had been last night, and she thought maybe she should say something about finding a happy medium.

Drink in hand, she walked back to stand closer to his chair, and held it out for him. He lifted his hand from where it was resting to take the glass by the bottom, keeping a sliver of a distance between where her fingers were around the rim and his. In doing so, he caught the hem of the nightie, and when he pulled the glass away and raised it to his lips, the hem went with it. It lifted slightly, just enough to feel a light flutter of air against her legs when it settled back into place. She stepped back immediately, conscious of the fact that it may have been enough for him to glimpse the matching panties underneath.

A shiver washed over her despite the flushing of her face, and she crossed her arms over her middle, her upper arms pushing her breasts together. Gold’s eyes dipped down, his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip, just before he touched the glass to his mouth. She caught herself pressing her thighs together unconsciously as he sipped and swallowed, and took another step back until a blast of warmth from the fire made her stop.

“Thank you,” Gold said simply.

His expression was blank, as if nothing had occurred between them at all, and she knew that she was once again dismissed. Once again the abrupt change in his demeanor unsettled her, but she couldn’t give voice to any of the questions in her head. Instead, she gave him a short nod, and moved to leave, pausing to snatch up the robe before she all but ran from the study.

The bathroom was like an odd little oasis when Belle returned to it. She sighed at the cool air wrapping around her, calming her heated skin, and leaned back against the closed door, breathing slowly. The kintsugi, the conversation, the way he looked at her, she could make no sense of it. Whatever this was about for him, she couldn’t keep letting it affect her. She had to think of this weird arrangement as a job, nothing more. It was something she was doing for money - a lot of money, mind - but a paycheck all the same.

She blew out a breath and changed back into her clothes, deciding to leave the lingerie on the hanger again. If he wanted her to keep the items, then he could say so. She was tired of guessing his reasons and desires for any of this.

Gold was waiting for her when she opened the powder room door. He was standing with his cane, leaning a bit to the side as if he had to put most of his weight on it to keep himself upright, and holding a glass storage container with a plastic lid. She frowned at it as she lifted her purse strap onto her shoulder, and then looked up at him.

“For you,” he said, holding the container out for her to take.

Her eyes darted down to the offering as she reached for it hesitantly. “Okay...?”

“It’s lasagna. That’s - that’s what I made for dinner. I thought since you hadn’t eaten...” He shrugged.

“Oh.” Belle took the container from his hand and stared down at the lid. She could see a large square of something inside, with hints of red and creamy white. The scent of food still lingered in the air, and her stomach rumbled loudly.

Gold let out a soft, short laugh, and shook his head. “It’s still warm, sort of, but I recommend putting the container in the oven and letting it come up to 350. That should heat it through.” He folded his hands over the handle of his cane, and then added, “With the lid off, of course.”

“Of course,” she repeated. Confused as to why he was giving her food, but pleased she wouldn’t have to make anything when she got home, she lifted her eyes to him. “Um, thanks.”

“No matter.”

He followed her to the door, holding her coat for her once more, and then bid her good night.

The walk home was comfortably cool, but smelling of fresh lasagna the entire way.

By the time Belle reached the door of her apartment, she was starving and had determined that this time the vague feeling of nauseous indigestion was from lack of food rather than anything that had transpired with Gold. He had been a gentleman about nearly everything, except for whatever those accidental brushes had been, and he cooked like he should have his own restaurant. The small touches were clearly accidental, and the odd sensation that came over this evening was easily ignored. If he did it again, she might consider saying something or changing her tactic of fetching his drink, but for now it was certainly more tolerable than half of the dates she’d had.

Garrett would have had his hand up her skirt in minutes, which was a thought that made her entire body cringe now that their relationship has ended so spectacularly.

As strange as it might seem, she was more intrigued by Gold than disturbed or repulsed. The story of the tea set was charming, and the fact that the person who could remake some useless, broken bits into something so pretty was the same as the person who offered her a deal to parade around his study in lingerie, left her head spinning. She wanted to know how that was possible, and thought that perhaps over the next few weeks she might find out.

He seemed perfectly willing to talk to her, revealing small clues here and there, but once he realized he had, he tried to close up again. She supposed some of that was part of how he maintained his enigmatic personality within the town, yet there was also the possibility that no one had ever bothered to take an interest in him before. Maybe he had no idea how to deal with that, maybe he had some of the same anxieties about social situations as she did, though in her case it had somehow turned into a peculiar ability to make friends easily. In his case it kept people at arm's length, much the same as his prim, fitted suits and colorful shirts portrayed a baffling combination.

She put the container of lasagna, sans lid, in the oven as instructed, and left it to warm up while she took a shower. This evening she didn’t feel dirty or uncomfortable, it was just the end of a long day and she was more than ready for a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. The lasagna was, as expected, fantastic. The cheese wasn’t too thick or stringy, and the mozzarella had been mixed with something else that gave it a sharper, more aged flavor. In place of plain ground beef he’d used some kind of sausage that was just spicy enough to leave a lingering heat behind, but not too much that it burned, and the notes of fennel blended well the spice. He had been heavy on the fresh garlic and basil as well, which were probably her favorite parts. She was prone to using a bit too much of them herself, and she smiled as she shoved the last forkful in her mouth.

She contemplated asking him to add dinner to the deal, but that would make the whole arrangement feel like something it wasn’t. They weren’t dating, they weren’t friends; it was just a weird business transaction, needs and wants.

She needed money, and he was providing. Though what Gold wanted from any of it would likely remain a mystery.

Gold leaned back in his chair as he savored the last bit of his second glass of scotch.

Belle had been less nervous this time, perhaps because he’d spoken to her about the tea set. He hadn’t intended to do so, but the way she was looking at it was - indescribable, like the way she might look at a painting or sculpture by one of the old masters, with a kind of curious awe. What she’d said about the chipped cup was incidental, he knew it was not some kind of metaphor or anything, even if restoring the set had been far more personal for him than he’d let on. She seemed quite pleased with his story, and he wondered idly what she might say if he put it up for sale in his shop. Would she want to buy it? Would she use the money he’d paid her to have it?

If he closed his eyes, he knew he would be able to recall the moment perfectly, the soft flutter of the rosy fabric as it fell from her arms, exposing more beneath it. The brief brush of those fingers against her, the hint of the lacy panties hiding under the skirt, the same precious pink as the rest of it, made him shiver. He didn’t think she’d noticed, or if she had maybe she had assumed it was an accident. It was, partially, but instead of pulling away when he’d realized what he’d done, he’d continued, waiting to see if she would move first. She hadn’t; he didn’t know what that meant.

The nightie had a teasing, innocent look to it, but it bared more than it covered. He’d gotten an eyeful of her skin, so creamy and soft looking, supple if it were pressed, and flushed the prettiest pink in the warmth of the room. He wondered how else he might make her blush like that, and shifted in his seat, uncrossing his legs as his own skin prickled with heat. He raised his hand, touching the fingertips that had touched her so briefly to his lips as his other hand moved to his waist, adjusting the pressure of his trousers and belt.

She had looked so beautiful tonight. Truthfully, she always did, but there was something about having her here, in his sanctuary, that made so much keener. A tingling throb twitched between his legs, and he gave in and pressed his palm to the front of his trousers, running the heel of it up and down his rapidly hardening cock. He couldn’t touch her again like that, couldn’t cross that line, no matter how much the image of her bare thighs tormented him.

Sighing, he forced his hand back to the arm of the chair and breathed slowly until his body calmed. As much as he wanted to take himself in hand and call to mind one of any number of fantasies, that was another line he couldn’t let himself cross. He was the monster they all said he was, in every way but that.

After a few minutes, Gold pushed to his feet, ignoring the lingering flush that crept up his neck and the ache low in his belly as he headed upstairs for another chilling shower.

( This is kintsugi. It's one of my favorite things and someday I too will have a tea set like in this fic. )

[kaalamarii]

Victor/MC part 1

Sup demons it’s ya boy.

Look who decided to post something. First a few notes...

This was getting really long (like the longest I’ve ever written actually!) and I worked/am working very hard on it. I just wanted to get the first part out and will hopefully get the second part out this weekend. 

MC is not at all how she is in the game in this fic.

There’s no smut in this, but will be in the next one 😉 so no warnings here except language.

anddddd I guess that’s it. Hope you enjoy. 💕

MC chewed her lip, eyes scanning her kitchen where piles of dirty dishes and a mess of ingredients taunted her, an embarrassing reminder of her failed attempts at baking. She cursed herself, wishing she was listening as Kiki asked if she’d be willing to make a cake for a company bake sale. “Sure, uh huh,” was her exact response as she focused more on beating her high score on Doodle Jump than the meeting. (Willow later made fun of her for that… “who even plays Doodle Jump anymore?”)

Standing amongst the disaster that was her kitchen, she sighed, picking up her phone and hovering her thumb over Victor’s number in her contacts, for once not giggling at the nickname “Bitch” she had oh so affectionately given him. God, she did not want to call him. Admitting defeat was difficult enough already without the LFG CEO’s insults.

MC shook her head, turning the screen off and shoving the phone into her bra. Sure enough there’d be a shop or two open still and she could get a mix and call it a night. That would be preferable to asking Victor for help and getting berated for “not being able to follow directions” or whatever he might say. MC grabbed her wallet, adding it to her very handy boob/phone holder bra.

Luckily for her, there was a shitty little corner store within walking distance and it wasn’t cold out. It was a bit dark, but she had walked there on several different occasions, at later times than this-and oftentimes intoxicated in some sort of way-so she wasn’t too nervous to make the small trip.

After a ten minute walk she made it to the store. A bell rang as she entered, the lone cashier welcoming her in a monotone voice, eyes not budging from his magazine. She let out a very informal “‘Sup”, though the cashier didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Do you have cake mixes here?” she asked, earning a sigh and an eye roll from the worker. Still not looking at her, he pointed her to one of the aisles. She thanked him before heading over. Squatting down to get a better look, she took a box off the shelf and looked it over. Vanilla should work, she thought, and read the instructions on the back to make sure she had everything else she needed for it. 

MC heard the door ring again but didn’t think much of it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure. “Think I can trick people into thinking I made this from scratch?” She asked, holding out the box to the stranger beside her. He didn’t answer, and she looked over at him, jumping at the sight.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Victor’s fine, thanks,” he replied, taking the mix from her and narrowing his eyes at it. “Really, box cake mix?”

“What are you doing here?” MC asked, crossing her arms. “Also, did you just try to make a joke?”

“Somebody pocket dialed me,” The CEO held his phone up to show her that he was currently on a call with...her. 

MC’s face heated up instantly, and she pulled her phone out of her boobs (much to Victor’s surprise and confusion) to see that, indeed, her phone was on and had been on a call with him since she had left for the shop. She sighed as she hung up the phone and shoved it back into her bra, bracing herself for his insults. 

Victor’s eyes followed the phone into her cleavage unintentionally. The lightest of blushes brushed over his cheeks, so light that MC didn’t even notice. “Haven’t you heard of pockets?”

“Why do I need pockets when I have a perfectly good set of tits to store my stuff in?” she retorted, placing her hands over her aforementioned breasts, giving them a squeeze.

“Goodness gracious,” the CEO griped. “You really are a hot mess.”

“At least I’m hot, right?”

Victor scoffed, ignoring her quip. “You need to pay more attention. I don’t appreciate random calls this late at night.”

“Late?” MC teased, looking down at her phone and pressing the side button to turn on the screen. It illuminated her cleavage as she read the time. “It’s only nine, grandpa.”

“It’s dark out,” he replied, once again ignoring what she said to him. “You never know what creeps are out this time of night.”

“Oh, like the one I just ran into?”

Victor’s eyes darkened as he looked down at her. “Cut the attitude.”

MC didn’t have a chance to talk back as Victor set the box of cake mix back on the shelf. “Were you actually going to buy this nonsense?”

“I agreed to make a cake for the company bake sale and it turns out I’m not a baker.”

“Don’t you make pudding?”

She shrugged. 

“Whatever. I’m not going to let you buy that and I’m most definitely not going to let you give it to anyone else. Come on. We’re going to Souvenir and we’ll whip something up.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“I won’t take no for an answer.”

Victor wrapped his hand around her wrist, guiding her to his car. MC was surprised by how gentle his hand was on her, how he led her but not forcefully, but almost protectively. She looked up at him, taking a moment to admire his profile. She couldn’t help but smile. He was an asshole for sure, but she still always enjoyed spending time with him, and she couldn’t help but feel excited at this late night trip to Souvenir.

At Souvenir, MC waited patiently as Victor rummaged through the kitchen, grabbing flour, sugar, and other ingredients as well as measuring cups, mixing bowls, and the rest of the various items they needed. She hopped up onto the counter, watching him. He was a handsome man, that was for sure, but whenever he cooked, she found him drop dead sexy. He wasn’t even cooking yet, but already had that focused look on his face, eyebrows furrowed and lips in a tight line. She wasn’t sure of his feelings for her. Hell, she wasn’t even sure of her feelings for him, but seeing him like that, she couldn’t help the absolutely raunchy images running through her mind.

“Were you raised by wolves? Get off my damn counter.”

His annoyance at her made her chuckle and she slid off, feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. 

“How many times have I told you not to do that? Not only is it unsanitary, you could fall and get hurt.”

“I’m not a child.”

“Then quit acting like one.”

MC sighed. “You know, you don’t have to do this. I can just go home and buy a premade cake from the grocery store tomorrow morning.”

“Pointless of you to say considering we’re already here,” he argued, “Plus I am not letting you give up that easily. You promised you’d make a cake and you’re going to make one. A real cake, not some crap from a store.”

MC couldn’t help but giggle from his choice of words. “Oooh, you said crap.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “You really are a child.”

“Box cake mixes aren’t that bad, you know,” she said as he handed her an apron. She pulled it over her head and tied it around her back. “Sometimes junk food can be satisfying.”

“What do you mean? I eat desserts.”

“Yeah, but you eat, like, fancy dessert. Not junk food. Like, don’t you ever want to go get a shitty fast food burger or milkshake?”

“I would rather die.”

“You are so dramatic!” MC said with a chuckle.

“Why would I want to eat something that can be described as ‘shitty’?”

Victor rolled his eyes as she once again found humor in his language. She had heard him cuss before and he didn’t really understand why it was so funny to her. He’d never let himself admit that he found pleasure in her laugh.

“Because it tastes good! Even though it’s bad for you. It’s like a guilty pleasure.”

“Are you quite done?” he questioned, the usual irritation in his voice. Not letting her respond, he continued, “ I preheated the oven and greased the pans already, so now you need to sift the flour and baking soda.”

He spoke as he rolled his sleeves up and also donned an apron. MC couldn’t help but look him over, admiring the muscled arms and chest pressing against his button down shirt as he moved. He handed her a sifter. “Use this.”

MC looked at it, confused. 

“Don’t be intimidated. It’s simple,” he told her. He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around to hold her hands. With one hand, he guided her to the bag of flour and together they dumped some into the top of the sifter. With his other hand, he placed hers on the crank on the side and began moving it. MC looked up at him and he smiled ever so slightly. “See? Idiot proof.”

Realizing the close proximity between them, Victor cleared his throat and moved away from her quickly. “Measure out the sugar next,” he told her. “I’ll do the butter. We have to add them together in the mixer.”

Victor handed her a measuring cup, and their fingers brushed together as she took it from him. MC paused for a moment, looking up at him, searching his serious face to see any hint of emotion. None.

 He watched as she carefully measured out the sugar, adding it to his butter in the mixer. MC didn’t see the small smile on his lips as he watched her.

He turned on the mixer. “Now we have to put in the eggs.”

MC nodded, grabbing an egg and cracking it into the mixture. Part of the shell fell in and she let out a “shit!” before reaching in and swiping the piece out with her finger.

“What are you doing!” Victor’s voice boomed, making her jump.

“What?”

“You don’t touch the mixture, you idiot!”

“My hands are clean!”

“It’s still disgusting. Furthermore, don’t just crack the egg into it like that. Crack them in a separate dish.”

“Why does it matter?”

He scoffed, taking the eggs from her. “So you don’t get a shell or a bad egg in there, obviously.”

MC scoffed right back at him before putting her finger into her mouth and licking the ingredients off.

“For fuck’s sake,” he murmured, though she heard it.

“What? You’ve never licked cake mix off your fingers?”

“No, I’m not an animal.”

“Try it.”

“Absolutely not.”

MC poked another finger into the mix much to Victor’s chagrin. She held her hand out to him. “Just do it.”

“If I do it, will you stop touching the mix?”

“I’ll consider it.”

Victor sighed, face twisted in disgust as he leaned forward to tongue the mixture off of her finger. His gaze met hers and for a moment they stared at each other, each one waiting for the other to move. Though Victor was the one to pull away, standing up straight, shoulders stiffening. 

“Well, that was awful. Wash your hands and we’ll continue.”

MC frowned, disappointment and embarrassment settling in. She often felt this way around Victor. Though he annoyed her, there were certain little moments when something he’d say or do would make her heart flutter, and for a split second she’d wonder if there was something between them. She couldn’t help but feel happy at the thought of it, though she tried to bury it. There’s no way that Victor was into her that way. He barely tolerated her.

And, she scolded herself, what would really come out of it even if he was interested? He was her boss. He was an asshole. And she was a moron, as he often reminded her. 

MC took a breath as made her way to the sink to wash away the traces of their tongues on her hand. Victor instantly noticed the change in her demeanor. He didn’t say anything but watched her out of the corner of her eye. He, of course, knew all too well about those shared moments, and had to stop himself often from admiring her. It was inappropriate, and could mean danger for her, and he only wanted what was best for MC. 

❤Part Two coming soon ❤

Masterlist

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Chapstick (Lance Tucker x you)

Characters: Lance Tucker x female Reader

Summary: Y/N was in the middle of getting trained for the Olympics when her boyfriend decided to talk to her just to break up. Lance sees his trainee having a mental breakdown and he didn't hesitate to comfort her.

Warnings: A LOT of cuss words. We're talking about Lance Tucker, Tater tots. An asshole ex boyfriend. Kinda asshat, Tucker. Just kinda?

Words: 3,763

A/N: This is my first oneshot for him, I guess? I hope y'all would love it because I had fun writing him!

Disclaimer: GIF'S and pictures used are not mine. Only the edits are and the oneshot of course. 😉 Credits to the owners of the GIFS.

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME. 

"What do you mean it's not good, coach? I've did what you wanted me to do!" You huffed and panted at the same time. Chest heaving up and down as you eyed your hot coach, all prepped up with his blue, white and red uniform that he never ceases to forget to wear every damn day. He stood before you looking like a Greek god and you mentally slapped yourself for thinking about obscene things with him when you were in a relationship with your boyfriend. Plus, Lance was a total douche towards you so imagining those things could make you cringe at the thought because of his obnoxious personality that was overpowering the attraction you had for the man, mentally killing the attraction you had.

"You wobbled," Lance 'the fucker' Tucker spat as a matter of fact, squinting his eyes on your ungraceful form, probably judging you inside his head.

You rolled your eyes in discreet, he probably saw that because you do it all the time but he didn't bother acknowledging it. You marched out of the mat to go chalk your hands because it seemed to sweat a little much today. Your high bun ponytail swinging in the same time with your heavy footsteps. Here you thought your coach would stop pestering you, it turns out he never knew when to shut his filthy..gorgeous mouth of his.

"Did I tell you to fucking walk off?" Lance spat, his brows cinched together. He was acting like a pole was up in his butt, even more hot headed than the days before. He was certainly not helping your mixed emotions running inside your stupid head. "I'm this close to ripping your balls away and making you eat it alive!" You reprimanded back, teeth gritted together. The sudden power answering him back shocked you because you never did since day one. However, today seemed to be an exception. Lance was acting more of an asshole than he is and he better not make a mistake because you could turn feral when provoked.

"Do it! Fucking do it, I fucking dare you, Y/N!" He barked back, marching towards you with that fiery gaze of his. His gaze looked so sexy and hot, yet you were trying your hardest not to get affected by your raging hormones travelling inside of your head and in between your legs. You were a taken lady, have a boyfriend even. A boyfriend who appear to be distant and cold the past weeks. Your heart stopped beating when you felt Lance's hands on the sides of your arms, his fingers digging on your sides, he leaned down to be in line with your vision. It was then and there you saw how beautiful the colors of his eyes were, they were a pretty pair despite of the pissed off look he was giving you. He was being the epitome of a walking sin. "You're all talk and less action, Y/L/N. Kitty got scared?" His pretty Steele blue eyes was livid. Eyebrows all up and daring you, "I'd rather have your lips sucking my balls, wouldn't it be a waste if you would throw it away? Come on, Y/N." He clucked his tongue, cocking his head to the side as he found everything amusing, yet slightly aggravating for you. "Have a little fun while you have it,"

Lance's tasteful lips turned into a smirk, his demeanor goading you into grabbing the bait. "My nuts won't bite...unless triggered,"

Your jaw was tightly clenched, your next words coming out of your lips harshly, eyes completely trained on the piercing blue eyes of your trainer, trying hard not to back down and kiss his feet. "You sick fuck," Your nickname for him made him raise a brow, shaking his head in entertainment. "Why are you even so mad at me right now? I did nothing wrong!"

His hands began to rest on the sides of his hips, and you knew in that simple gesture meant that he switched to his coach mode, full rant about your performance with the practice was about to get jot down like bullets. "You keep doing mistakes, even have a difficult time registering the basics inside your head!" Lance licked his lips in aggravation, pointing a finger at you. "If you're goddamn distracted because of one stupid fucking lover problems, you better know to throw those pathetic distractions away while you're here! We gotta act professional, Y/N!"

An audible loud snort came out of you as you shook your head in utter disbelief. "Wow," You spat as a matter of fact, giving him a series of claps. Entirely amused by the methods of his coaching. "So much to say for yourself, Coach. Aren't you the sick fuck who was asking a twenty year old to suck his balls a while ago?"

He had back you away till your back hit a cold metal pole. Lance was eyeing you down like a lion watching his prey, never even forgetting to give you a once over because you looked completely exquisite in your leotard. "I wasn't asking," He muttered nonchalantly, popping a gum inside his filthy mouth, Mint. Definitely mint because whenever he had to talk to you up close, his minty breath was all you could ever sniff besides his spicy, macho perfume that all the itchy ladies loved. "It was a great suggestion rather than ripping my balls off alive," Lance chewed on his gum very loudly, making you more irritated by his huge ego, conceitedness and arrogance.

He was clearly even a walking asshat, you mindlessly thought over the back of your mind. Embedding that opinion inside your head over and over again.

Your staring contest was cut off when both of you heard a loud knock on a wall, letting his presence be known. Lo and behold, the boy who had forget about you for an entire week stood at the end of the gym. Looking all innocent and anxious as he stood his weight from one foot to the other. He then yelled, never looking bothered that Lance seemed to be rather much close to you and has you trapped in his presence. "May I speak to her?" Your boyfriend croaked out, sounding unattractively throaty. "It's important,"

Lance spun his heels around, his brows deeply furrowed, eyes squinted and glaring at the young man who came to see you. He looked definitely more furious than before, "What if I fucking say no?" He spoke aloud, oblivious that he raised a hand to brush his perfectly fuck boy gelled up hair. "We're practicing! Come back when she's fucking done being an uncoordinated gymnast!" He lowly snorted, only you had the advantage because you were close to your asshole of a coach. His piercing blue eyes swiftly landed on you, cocking his head to where your boyfriend was, a lopsided smile on show. "Limp dick's here to get his damsel in distress, if you ever were in a fucking distress which I clearly can't see,"

"Can you stop being an asshole for one second?" You exasperatedly whisper-yelled at the Adonis in front of you, sounding desperate as you were on the verge on exploding all your pent up emotions towards everyone. You definitely had to deal with your boyfriend right now, and Lance is not helping. Your heels whipped around, eyes leaving your very amused coach in the gym as you flipped him the bird after he yelled, "I'm giving you five minutes, so you better not fuck like rabbits in my gym!"

You shake your head, rubbing your temples together as you paraded towards where your boyfriend was, looking serious and mad. Well, what was his problem then? You weren't the person who became distant, forgetting that you have a boyfriend. It was technically the other way around. Arms crossed in front of him, you glared into his eyes. Totally showing how pissed off you were at him, yet the sentence he spat seem to irk you more. "Lance Tucker? Really, Y/N? There are tons of great coaches in the world, why the fuck did you pick him?"

"Everybody had 24 hours a day, so why didn't you fucking bother talking to me when all I ever wanted was a bit of your attention?"

(Y/BF/N)'s eyes went all wide. Igniting that growing anger inside of him. "Don't change the topic, Y/N--"

"You're here to bitch out about why I chose Lance as a coach? Why don't we skip the irrelevant problem and go straight to the main problem? Why. Did. You. Ignored. Me. For. A. Week Y/BF/N?" Your words were emphasized and even your emotions. The more that your conversation continues, the more it gets intense. From the moment you've started raising your voice, a man who have been busying himself with his phone on the other end of the gym have raised his head, instantly setting his pretty blue eyes as he was checking if you were still fine.

Which is exactly the opposite.

"Babe," Y/BF/N tried to reach your arm, yet you were faster and harshly jerked his hand away. "Oh no you don't," He dropped his hands in a tight fist, glaring down at your figure. Oh, the audacity. "Don't call me that because it's giving me shivers,"

"Bet he calls you that too," He spat, his eyebrows cinched together in fury. Was he really thinking you and Lance had something together? Sure, your coach was a womanizer, but you...you won't go that far with him. Your mind was set, you've picked Lance because he won gold and silver. He has a lot of potential in teaching you how to win the gold. You know everything happening was strictly professional..sometimes. But, it's not the point. You know he's a great gymnast.

Former limp dick shrugged his lanky shoulders, staring straight at you with no remorse, showing the animosity that you didn't expect to come from him. He was acting strange, like he's become a changed man in just over a week. "You probably moan his name in bed either, Maggie showed me the video,"

Well, that made your eyebrows grow up higher than the empire state building.

"Maggie--Maggie Townsend? How the fuck do you even know her? And what video?"

You've notice a pair of eyes have been on you since the moment your argument started, you couldn't help but take a glimpse at the asshole of a coach that you have.

His eyes were tightly squinted together, Lance looked like he was ready to pounce on Y/BF'S/N, eyebrows all furrowed and serious..Your heart skipped a beat as you saw him being all protective, guarding you like a hawk. Even thinking that your boyfriend would hurt you at that exact moment..Not until Lance started wiggling his brows, nodding knowingly at you while he raised his wrist, showing you the time while he gestured that you only had two minutes left.

Y/BF'S/N technically curved your question and started ranting with his unstoppable dirty ass mouth, making your insides go at war with your emotions. He was really getting on your nerves right now and Lance didn't let that go unnoticed when you started impatiently tapping your foot on the floor while you tightened your fists. "Don't be an in denial bitch, Y/N. You're just like everybody else. What's even special about him? His huge ego? Conceited self? A narcissistic bastard? Or his arrogance turned you on, so that's why you gave in?" He whisper-yelled, scared that Lance would hear the argument. Wow, what a limp dick indeed.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING?" You yelled and the whole gym echoed. Lance began to cross his arms, his thewy biceps already popping out of his red, blue and white uniform. Every little bit of his attention was practically on you, and only you.

"Don't play dumb on me, Y/N. I had to force this out of Maggie in exchange for..something valuable. If I didn't give her what she wanted, then I wouldn't have known this,"

"What the fuck are you talking about? What did you even give her?" You didn't realized that your voice started to go quieter, smaller and weak. There was a hunch inside your head, but you were trying your hardest not to believe it. However, your boyfriend's next words broke you whole, tearing the trust and love you had for him. Even your big, youthful heart.

Y/BF'S/N's whole demeanor changed, he held his head up high as he looked down on you. Seeing you in the verge of tearing apart was feeding his ego and pride. It was making him damn happy for a lie that was fed off to him by a woman who was extremely infatuated at him. Hard. "Paradise. Just like those kind that Mr. Lance-the-fucker-Tucker gives you,"

"W-What?" You stuttered, and Lance saw how your shoulders fell. It wasn't the Y/N he knew. You should've sassily raised a brow at your boyfriend, show him those fangs that he sees all the time.

Lance sighed exasperatedly to himself, pinching at his temples. "Fuck, Tucker. Don't interfere, don't fucking involve yourself." He chanted like it was his mantra.

"That's right, Y/N. Now, you know how it feels,"

You blew out a breath you've been holding, glowering at him with an incredulous glint in your eyes. "Are you seriously thinking straight right now?" You spat, squinting your eyes at him and realizing that his eyes looked entirely different, too different and colored. "Oh, God. No you aren't. Your eyes are full blown red, you're...you're--"

Lance saw how you washed your face with your hand, trying to hold back on punching your ex-boyfriend in the face. He saw you raise your arm, pointing towards where the exit was.

"Get outta my fucking sight, Y/BF/N! You're a fucking douche bag, an asshole!"

Y/BF'S/N cocked his head to the side, smirking widely. His mouth never knowing when to stop, "If I'm an asshole, then you're a bitch. Fair enough?"

The whole gym was quiet, your mind went blank and you just wanted to scream at him for showing you his true demons. He wasn't the boy you used to love, the boy in front of you was a huge bastard, he even had the courage to smirk after basically telling you he had sex with your friend turned enemy when she began leaving you for a new, popular group of friends and her boyfriend who have been the popular boy in school.

Past was definitely the past. Time's changed now and you were already in your freshman year, you knew she went to a university far from you but you didn't expect she'll still be around. Maggie even had to guts to ruin your relationship and lie just to have her favorite, new eye-candy who was technically not available, yet that didn't stop them from fucking each other.

You could feel yourself frowning, eyes all cloudy and warm. Uh-oh, you thought to yourself. Your tears were threatening to fall and if he doesn't leave, then he'll have the satisfaction to see you crying over a worthless boy.

"Aw, guilty as charged, Y/N?" He badly teased, leaning down to take a better view of your face. You were about to open your mouth and shout a loud cuss on his face, yet you heard a voice that you didn't expect would be your knight in shining armor because he can also be a knight in shining asshole at the same time. But, to make everything a little better, Lance probably thought it was time to show his assholey-ness towards a person who was born the same race with him.

"Hey, dick-sucking-fucker! That's enough! Out of my fucking gym," Lance crossed his arms after practically marching with heavy foot steps as he went towards where you were. Y/BF'S/N gave him a scowl and to your surprise, Lance snaked his hand on your shoulder, clamping his hand tightly on your arm. Mentally telling you now to cry over a petty boy like your ex. You bit your lip hard before squeezing yourself in between the empty space of Lance's arm, which made him lift a lopsided smile when you did.

He saw how your ex-boyfriend took notice of the interaction. That's good, Lance's mindlessly thought at the back of his mind. That's what he wanted Y/BF'S/N to feel. He wanted him to die inside his own insecurities and doubtfulness, believing over a manipulated gossip that was obviously a lie.

"What are you going to fucking do about it, asshole?"

Lance shrugged, chewing on his gum rather loudly than he intended too. "I'm letting you choke up a fucking pole while you try and smoke another joint, Limp dick."

"M-My dick is not limp," Y/BF'S/N reprimanded, stuttering by Lance's intimidating aura. Just his mere presence could make his ego turn to dust. Your coach snickered, chuckling to himself and raising his hand to point out what he wanted to say. "Small dick? better? I remember how Y/N told me it was a size of a--what was that called? Oh, a fucking Chapstick,"

"You assho--!"

"I'm an asshole, but at the same fucking time," Lance breathed though his nose, eyes blazing and taunting. "I'm the fucking God of gymnastics and that's why your fucking girlfriend whom you took for fucking granted chose me over your good-for-nothing self!"

You were moved when Lance rapidly snatched your ex-boyfriend's shirt by the neck, his steele blue eyes entirely in rage, completely heated with anger because of how Y/BF'S/N was disrespecting you. Your heart stopped as you stared at the both of them having an intense staring competition.

You could see how Lance was panting hard and how startled your ex boyfriend was from how your coach snapped. "Leave, weed dick. I don't want you near my gym at all costs, if all you'll ever do is let a beautiful, precious woman cry her heart out, then you better leave. Out. NOW. "

Beautiful. Lance's words kept replaying inside your head even after he pushed your ex-boyfriend away towards the exit. He suddenly became nice and it was impossible.

You stood rooted on the ground, completely shook from the sudden plot twist that happened in your life. The loud bang of the door made you jump, and you saw how Lance marched towards you. A grimace shown in his attractive features. Once he stopped in arms reach, you were startled to feel his rough fingers wiping your hot tears away. "Stop," He nonchalantly uttered, ignoring your questioning eyes. "Stop crying for a useless asshole like him, he doesn't fucking deserve it,"

He placed his hands on his hips after wiping your tears away, scratching his neck as he glanced to see your eyes that needed answers from him. "What--Do you--" You started but ceased yourself to continue as you thought everything all out. You were about to open your mouth for the second time when his next words kept your mouth zipped.

"I meant it,"

You raised a brow at him. Sniffing your snot away. What did he mean that he meant it? Your asshole of a boyfriend broke up with you and now your coach says he meant it? Did he meant to call you beautiful? He's kidding.."I meant that he's a fucking limp dick, Y/N. Do you really think I'll fucking call you beautiful when you're giving me a headache because of being so uncoordinated?!" Lance saved himself from being misunderstood. Unless, he was lying. He was now crossing his bulgy arms, and repeatedly placing his hand back on his hips like he was acting fidgety.

"I wasn't even saying anything?" You spoke back, a small smile wanting to come out but you're fighting it back. Trying to appear serious in front of your bothered coach. "You're uncoordinated and fucking hard headed," Lance sternly muttered to himself, his scowl and eyebrows tightly cinched together. Finding out how those words slipped out of his dirty little tucker mouth. You could feel your hidden pride clapping inside of your brain as a smirk lifted your lips up in entertainment, "I'm uncoordinated and hard headed,"

Lance huffed to himself, eyebrows raising as he nodded so big. "Took you long enough to realize, Y/N!"

You lowly laughed to yourself, eyeing him up as he was towering over you. His perfume so aromatic that it could hypnotize you and maybe it did because you were starting not to think straight, "But that didn't stop you from staring at my ass the entire time,"

You stood on your tippy toes, trying to reach his ears and the look on his face was priceless. "I'm uncoordinated and so hard headed that you so wanted to fuck, Lance Tucker."

Y/N had the last laugh because she was right and for the first time, Lance the fucker tucker was speechless because everything she said was true and he couldn't believe it himself.

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[sweetness47]

Hate

Pairing Sam x reader

For @samwinchesterbingo

square filled: enemies to lovers

WARNINGS!!!! LANGUAGE, SOME SMUT, VERBAL NAME CALLING, REJECTION IMPLIED, ABO DYNAMICS 18+ READERS ONLY

Hate is a powerful emotion, one that can have dire consequences. Except in my case. Well, I guess I would have to explain better, since I sound like a complete blonde.

So, I’m a hunter, and I have on occasion found myself paired with the infamous Winchester brothers. Not that I mind, well more specifically, I don’t always mind. They are great hunters, and they always have my back and I will always have theirs when we are on a case. But buddy wise?

Dean and I get along great. I join him at the bar when he goes, we joke, banter, and he treats me like family. He’s like the brother I never had. He’s like the perfect gentleman, opening doors for me, making sure I get home safe, chasing away unwanted visitors at the bar. Like I said, family.

Then there’s Sam. He’s so fucking annoying. Yeah I said he’s good when we’re working a case, but outside of work? Forget it. He whines when I have to bunk in the same room as them, or when Dean lets me use the washroom first. You’d think I killed his best friend or something, but nothing could be further from the truth. I have tried everything known to man and beyond to change his view of me. From my perspective, he treats me like I’m a gnat…annoying as all hell, and can’t wait till I leave. He wouldn’t give me the time of day outside of a case, and god forbid I was ever stuck on the side of the road with a blown engine two miles from a vamp nest. He would leave me there to be bear chow or vamp chow, whichever came first.

Well, the beginning of my current predicament happened about 9 months ago, and yeah that’s what the time frame is. We were on a case, and had gotten separated from Dean. The large mansion had so many halls and rooms it was hard to navigate, especially when the ghosts kept changing everything, in other words they had literally taken possession of the entire house. And they weren’t letting us leave. Then we came across two ghouls, and they chased us, till we managed to take refuge in a room that wasn’t locked, and pour salt across the threshold. Then we grabbed our iron rods and waited for what we thought was to be an attack.

The attack didn’t happen, but my heat did. The adrenaline rush from the chase, paired with whatever was in these bottles that lined the shelves in the room, triggered an early heat, and it was bad. Not only did I not have any toys or privacy, I had the unfortunate pleasure of being stuck in here with the one Alpha who hated my guts. Lucky me…not!

Well, turns out that while he did not like me, his Alpha nature was not immune to the scent of my arousal. He turned to me as his eyes grew dark, and I swear he was plotting my demise while he was imagining me naked under him. Talk about opposing sides. Then his voice whispered to me, and it was dripping with dark lust, laced with what I thought was hate and disgust.

“Omega! YN, what the fuck? Why didn’t you take your suppressants?” he whined, sounding sexy as all hell…fuck did I just say that? Well, I mean he’s a dick but he’s a handsome dick.

I glared right back at him, my eyes gold. “I did, asshole! Whatever is in these jars triggered my heat, bypassing the suppressants. The last thing I want right now is to be stuck in a locked room with you!”

He grunted, and I flinched. “Well, whatever it was, your heat isn’t going to go away. And that scent is gonna attract jackasses from god-knows-where. I guess I will have to knot you to relieve the heat.”

“Oh fuck off Sam! You want to knot me? Pfft, yeah right, and I’m related to the Queen of England.” I scoffed. “Go piss up a tree. Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you in any way. How about you find us a way out of here, pretty boy.”

He growled and turned away to try the door.

That’s when it hit.

I was overwhelmed with the most excruciating cramps ever. I doubled over, screaming as the pain tore through my abdomen. This was definitely no ordinary heat. Never, in all my years, had I ever experienced anything like this. I was pretty sure childbirth was a piece of cake compared to what I was feeling at that moment. Beads of sweat covered my forehead as my fever reached new heights. I crumpled to the floor, unable to do anything.

I was dying.

Then he was there, helping me to sitting, his lips seeking mine as he worked to shed my pants and undies, then his own pants and boxers. He stood, bringing me with him, lifting me onto his hard shaft, and pushing me down slowly, breaking the virginal barrier, sheathing himself in my slick. He found a wall to hold me against as he fucked me, pounding into my wet core, sending my body into the most blissful climax known to man, well it was my first orgasm…but still. He followed soon after, his knot swelling inside me, filling me, ropes of cum shooting into my womb.

We stood there, trying to catch our breath as we waited for the knot to shrink. Finally, we were able to separate and we got dressed. Dean’s voice echoed through the halls about 5 minutes later, and with his help we were able to get the door open, then vanquish the spirits in the house and get the hell out of there. The ride home was more quiet than normal, especially Sam, but even Dean didn’t talk much. I was pretty sure he had caught some whiff of something, but I wasn’t sure what exactly he’d been exposed to. All I knew was he wasn’t acting like himself.

Well days came and went, Dean seemed to be his old self by that evening, and everything else fell back to normal as well, including Sam being an ass toward me. It wasn’t till about 3 weeks later that I began to feel off. I was staying with Jody when I knew my next heat was due, except it never came. Two more weeks ticked by, then Jody brought me home a pregnancy test. I balked at the very idea, but realized it was a very real possibility. It was only one time, but it was also unprotected.

FUCK!

I stared at the stick that I had peed on, watching as the plus sign slowly appeared.

I was going to have pups…Sam Winchester’s pups.

SHIT!

I sighed and sent a text to Dean that I was gonna take off for a while, citing that I needed some space from that asshole brother of his. Dean didn’t buy it, but was gracious and didn’t press, instead he told me to stay safe and keep in touch. I smiled and said I would, then I hung up and cried. Jody came to sit with me, and I ended up telling her what had happened. She hugged me, and told me I was welcome to stay as long as I needed. I thanked her and decided to take her up on the offer. It was going to be much easier to go through the stages of the pregnancy if I had someone to help me.

So fast forward to present day, and I decide to go to the store for some groceries. Yes, I look like I’m carrying a fucking planet under my clothes, but I’d been feeling fine, and I was going to cook a surprise dinner for Jody for everything she’d done for me to this point. She had taken me to all the appointments, taken me shopping for baby clothes, crib, car seat. She’d also begun to help me with bathing and dressing, because apparently having a belly the size of the moon makes it a little difficult to manoeuver. But cooking was ok, I’d planned for a meal that didn’t require any heavy lifting or bending, and it was going to be amazing.

Then two things ruined my day.

Well one of them didn’t really ruin the day, but it couldn’t have come at a worse time.

I was waddling through the pasta aisle, when I heard screaming, then snarling, then gunshots. My mind was racing through infinite scenarios…robbery, psychos, werewolves, monsters…the possibilities were pretty much endless, mostly because I knew what was really out there.

Then I came face to face with said snarling creature. Yup, it was a werewolf.

FUCK!

Then, just as he was going to charge at me, three gunshots went off in succession, and the lycan collapsed, lifeless. Footsteps came toward the heap of fur, and it just happened to be none other than Sam and Dean. My jaw dropped to the floor, about the same time their eyes looked me over, stopped at my monstrous tummy, then back to eye level.

And that’s when my water broke, and not just a little trickle. Nope, it was almost like the flood that swept Noah’s Ark across the world, just one big WHOOSH, all over the floor, my shoes, my dress, literally everything. The contractions started right after. I clutched my abdomen as pain tore through my body. Dean shoved his gun inside the back of his jeans and ran over to me. Sam did the same, reluctantly, or so I thought as it took him nearly a minute to reach my other side.

I was in too much discomfort at the moment to care though. “Call Jody. Tell her to meet me at the hospital.” Was all I could manage as another contraction ripped through me. I couldn’t even stand on my own.

After a quick call, two strong sets of arms were helping me up and walking me to their car. Sam got in one side of the back seat to support me as Dean helped me in the other side. Then the elder brother climbed into the driver seat and practically flew to the emergency ward. Sam held me as the contractions continued, and I could do nothing but use his scent for comfort. At the emergency, hospital staff rushed out and helped me onto a gurney, rushing me to the maternity ward so they could monitor the labour as it progressed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jody appeared at the entrance after YN been wheeled in, and met up with the boys. She took one look at Sam nearly strangled him as she tore a strip off the younger Winchester.

“You have some nerve Sam Winchester! How dare you knot YN and not give her another glance! Those twins she’s gonna have are yours.” He shot her a surprised look. “Yeah numbskull, I said yours. YN told me everything.”

Dean looked between Jody and Sam. “YN apparently didn’t tell me everything, otherwise I’d have beat his ass for you Jody.”

Sam blushed. “It wasn’t up for public discussion thank you both very much. She hates my guts anyways, so I never bothered to see if the knot had produced any…aww hell.” He gave an exasperated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.

Dean cuffed Sam upside the head. “She hates your guts? Look at how you treat her Sammy. She’s never been anything but nice, trying every which way to get you to see her as anything but an inconvenience. You treat her like shit when we aren’t working a case.”

Sam’s resolve fell then and he lowered his head. They were right. He’d been an ass right from day one. And the reason he’d kept pushing her away? He was attracted to her, had been since the first time he’d laid eyes on her. But he didn’t want to fall in love with her then have death separate them, so he decided to play indifferent. It worked too well, since she hardly looked in his direction anymore. Then he knots her and doesn’t even bother to check if she ended up pregnant. Ass didn’t even begin to describe that kind of behaviour. If his mom or dad were here, they would have kicked his ass, and he would have deserved every single second.

Before another word could be spoken, the doctor interrupted. “YN is asking for Jody. There are complications. One of the twins needs a blood transfusion, and YN isn’t enough of a match to be the donor. We may not be able to save the child. Our only hope is to find the father.”

Sam interrupted. “I’m the father. You’re more than welcome to test my blood if it will save my child’s life.”

The doctor ushered Sam to the maternity ward and left Dean and Jody to sit and wait. The hours ticked by with no word. Then finally they saw a very tired looking doc come down the hall.

“We were able to use the father’s blood to save the child, and the twins are now resting comfortably with the mother. YN said the father could stay for a while. She asked to have privacy for now, and said you both could come back in an hour.”

Dean and Jody looked at each other, nodded and headed to the cafeteria for some sustenance. Meanwhile, a very sheepish Sam sat in the visitor chair, holding the baby he’d helped save, while YN fed the other twin. YN spoke softly so not to disturb the sleeping infants.

“I don’t expect you to become part of their lives if you don’t want to. But I also won’t stop you from visiting them either.”

Sam stopped her there. “I want to apologize for the way I acted, every single moment. YN I was trying to push you away so that if anything bad happened, neither of us would be heartbroken. This life, it’s not meant for love and romance stuff. It’s harsh, dangerous, and full of uncertainty.”

“I know what this life is, remember? I can’t figure out why you never saw me as a hunter. I am strong, capable and I’ve been in love with you forever. It tore me apart inside when you rejected me, shoved me aside like a used piece of tissue? All I ever wanted was your love.  When you knotted me, that was the happiest moment in my life, and I prayed that you would follow instinct and make me yours. But it never happened. I was crushed.”

Sam wiped the tear from my cheek. “I wish I could go back and undo all those horrible things I said to you. I wish I had claimed you when I knotted you, fought against my stubbornness. But I can be a little hard-headed. Can you ever forgive me? Allow me to be your Alpha?”

YN giggled. “Yeah you are definitely hard-headed, and stubborn. And a jackass.”

Sam winced. “Ouch, truthful, but oww.”

That moment, the small child in Sam’s arms chose to stir, tiny cries filling the room, causing her brother to stir in YN’s arms. The two parents traded children so little Mary could be fed, and Samuel Jr. could be burped and changed. Once that was done, and the room was quiet again, Sam spoke up.

“So, how about it, will you let me be your Alpha? Once you’re healed up and ready, I will claim you as I should have months ago.”

YN grinned. “Yes Sam. To all of it. it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 36

“Nooooo, I don't want to get out in the cold anymore, let's stay here forever” she whined as Jared got up and held open her coat for her, “ok, stay here where it's busy and crowded, or sacrifice half an hour and walk ourselves warm to end up in our cosy, warm room with comfortable couches and a ridiculously warm and soft bed?”. Harper rolled her eyes “You don't play fair” she sighed, “all is fair in love and war” he grinned and grabbed her hand as he guided her out of the coffeeshop where the icecold and windy street greeted them. “So, going home..that's quite a big deal, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” he put his arm around her shoulder and held her tight to his side walking down the street, “yep..it's not that I want to, but I need to know..I need to know why they hate me so much..why they always treated me differently than my siblings” she sighed deeply, her warm breath mixing with the cold air formed a foggy cloud “it's not gonna be your average 'meet the parents' moment, I can tell you that much”. The despair in her voice was almost unbearable “I think it's real brave what you're doing” he squeezed her shoulder “so any tips on what aristocratic families do these days? Maybe I should get into golfing or cricket or something? I want to blend in because I don't think your parents will be expecting some long haired musician/actor as their son-in-law”. Her hiccuping burst of laughter wrapped a warm blanket around his heart “son-in-law? Uhm no, my parents certainly won't be expecting that, ohh wait, maybe we should tell them we're married, they'll go ballistic!” she kept on giggling. “And you? What do you think about marriage?” he blurted out, he needed to know, Harper stopped in her tracks all serious of a sudden “Marriage? Nothing but heartache and misery, I swore to myself a long time ago that I'll never be nobody's wife, I've never felt the need to be ayone's possession which is basically the definition of marriage, isn't it?”. 

Jared didn't know whether to hug her or be dissappointed, he'd never given marriage any thought but hearing her say the word, triggered something hidden deep inside of him, what would it be like to grow old with her? it definitely wouldn't be boring, on the contrary, it would be adventurous and very rock 'n roll, he could actually see his unborn children in her eyes, really beautiful kids if they looked like their mama. “Yeah, I guess it is..do you make any distinction though between marital possession and sexual possession?” he pulled her against his body with a very dirty grin, “now you're talking! I'll always submit to such an exquisitely skilled lover of your caliber, although I think you're holding back where I'm concerned, I think there's so much further you want to go where sex is concerned, don't you? Let's say that I'm convinced you're into something a whole lot more kinky than just spanking my ass” she wiggled her eyebrows. Why not push all my fuckin' buttons at once, you little minx? Dingdingdingding! “oh really? You're convinced, huh? Well, that's for me to know and for you to find out, so if I were you, I would get that sexy ass to our bedroom RIGHT NOW!” those last shouted words made her giggle “ohhhh goodieeee” she clapped her hands in delight, wasn't she just amazing? A girl that was so excited and looked forward so much to getting thrown and pushed around a room and a bed was an absolute keeper, his heart beat so hard in his throat and his groin ached behind the zipper of his trousers seeing her giggle and skip away from him, he quickly caught up with her breaking down in a fit of laughter when he saw her lose her balance on another strip of ice.

'Bang' went their erotic bubble the minute they set foot inside the hotel, “there you are! We've got a million interviews lined up, you should be glad someone around here remembers the PR” Shannon came stomping over to them. Harper hung her chin against her chest, she just couldn't get a break around here, could she? All she wanted was to get some much needed lovin' from her man, who had kept his distance last night too, bleeegghhhhhh, what did a girl have to do round here to get fucked senseless??. “Sorry, I have..” he scrunched up his nose, feeling absolutely guilty as he cupped her face, “it's ok..you have a job to do, I understand” she tried not to pout, “I'd love it if you came along” he tried to twist her arm. “You kiddin? Get out into that cold again? nope, na-ah, no sir, no way” she shook her head trying to keep it light and funny between them, “alright, why don't you go warm up the bed then, be back late afternoon, we'll have some time together before the show” he whispered. “I don't want to be a wet blanket, but..” Shannon moved closer trying to get their attention, Harper took a step back and mouthed a silent 'go, it's ok', “alright, alright, ok, lead the way Mr. PR-man” he growled at his brother as he reluctantly turned on his heels and followed Shannon out with a sigh, signing to her to keep in touch during his absence. Ok..what to do? More coffee? Ugh no, her blood pressure was through the roof more than enough already, go to a museum? Nope..out of the question she went out into that cold again, then what? Read a book! Yessss, perfect idea, she hadn't read ever since she got to Europe, Jared and her job here had absorbed most of her free time, curl up under the covers and get lost into another world, she asked her key and almost ran to the elevator.

Oh those dreadful interviews with their copy/paste questions, he hated how he had always thrown up a wall around his personal life in the past, because right now he wanted nothing more than just talk about her, then he wouldn't miss her as much, hold it, hold it, hold it, take a step back, you are not turning into one of those ugly codependent couples you hate so much! You are so not! Fuck it, yes I am, ok ignore and focus back on the question and the interviewer, hope it's better than those ugly glasses she's wearing. 'Beep', no, focus on the question, before they think you're an absolute asshole, oh sod it they already think that anyway, he dug his phone out of his pocket and kicked Shannon's leg to answer the next question, he had a mail to read and that was far more important right now.

From: HCDeRobiano

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: shock!

Jaylicious,

' A leg went over and she positioned herself, ligned up his dick with her entrance and slowly, ever so slowly she pushed down and impaled herself with a loud, blissful moan'

Uhm, what the fuck is this? So, I went online to get inspired for my next painting and I bumped on some real cool stuff on this site called 'Tumblr' and what do you know? I get these suggestions to also check some extra cool dude called Jared Leto, curious as I am, I check and..well, well, these girls are writing the hottest stuff with you in a very kinky main role. Are they ex- or current groupies of yours? Because they all seem to write from reality..and there's so many out there, I'm flooded by an exuberant amount of smut. Oh and then there was all these threads about what a jerk you are in bed too, they're calling you all sorts of horrible names..what is that all about? that sounded a whole lot more real from real groupies.

My eyes hurt from reading way too much stuff about you, why did I ever decide to get online?

Confused Coco

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: Re: shock!

Babe,

Get offline, now! So you went 'there' huh? How do you think I feel reading all those stories about myself and their fantasies about my sex life..they make me look like some kind of pornstar in those fics, but they're 'just' fans ('just' is an ugly word, but they're my meal ticket, you know what I mean) I swear I've never touched or met any of them in real life, they're just stories, those stories on Tumblr come from the imagination of some very dirty minds :). That other stuff you're mentioning is a site full of slander I tried to shut down, but no matter how hard I try, those trolls just keep on popping up and haunting me, don't believe what's being said, please! Yes some of those things happened a long, long time ago, but never the way what they're saying, it's difficult to explain..

All you have to know is that I love you veryveryveryvery much, ok? You're the only one that matters!

Don't go running off again, just wait for me and we'll talk, all through the night if that is what it takes to believe me!

Your 'Jaylicious' (I like it, you're so original, where do you come up with these nicknames?)

WHAT??? slander?? but it actually happened? Of course it happened, what did he think she was? Retarded? Did he ever see that interview with Howard Stern she had just seen for the first time, where some sleazy pornstar talked about Jared's 'monster' that obviously had given her as much pleasure as it gave her? Of course he had, and he expected her to get offline the minute she found more info about his past in half an hour than she had gotten out of him in weeks? Put the phone down, just put it down and grab your book, relax, of course he had a past, she had one too, and she knew that he was no choirboy, that much had been obvious during each sexmarathon they had so far, but then why did she feel a little dirty right now? Don't be a hypocrite, come on, ok book, where was I? She browsed for a few seconds but then threw the book back on the nightstand, ok not able to focus, fine, TV then, she flicked through the channels like a maniac, ooohh some more 'Catfish' reruns then. 'Beep' the screen of her phone lit up, and she quickly grabbed it thinking it was Jared, 'Happy now? You destroyed everything, after everything I did for you, is this how you repay me? I'll never forgive you for this, I'm on my way to New York right now and I swear I'll have you and all your godawful paintings evicted in no time, so you won't have a 'home' to come back to'. Harper sat up in shock gasping for air, Sean..oh god no, her fingers trembled as she pressed down on his name and held the phone to her ear, pick up..voicemail, fuck! Text him back 'Sean, no I'm not happy, how can I be happy when the person I thought was my best friend tried to kill me, just because he feels rejected!? Have me evicted, fine by me, but don't touch my paintings, please, I'll beg if needs be, but please don't destroy them, they mean more to me than anything or anyone in this world, please Sean?' there, sent, with an aching heart and close to tears, for fuck's sakes Jay, will you just come back? I need you here, I need someone to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be alright. A tear found its' way down her cheek, followed by a whole lot more and she didn't even try and stop them, her heart nearly burst in her chest, she just wanted to be happy, just to lead a simple, uncomplicated life devoted to painting and creating, but that wasn't gonna happen soon, was it? Oh Jay, please, I need you so much right now..call him? No, he was working and she wasn't ready yet to show him just how silly she was being  at times, he'll be here, just let out all those stupid tears right now so he can hold you later without having to see what a mess she really was, no, no, her sadness was her own and nobody else’s business.

[faunusrights]

OFFAL HUNT REMASTER LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 9

oh goody!

well this is it. the Date Chapter. the chapter, in which, the Date happens. lowkey im so fucking hype for this stupid goddamn chapter AAAAAAAAAAAA this is when the sexy got kicked up about seven notches and i know its gonna be a fucking twenty from here on out so LETS GO LESBIANS LETS GO

“Is this your date, Ms. Fall?” he asked.

Cinder didn’t look away from Glynda. “Mhm.”

STRAIGHT OUT OF THE GODDAMN GATE WE DIDN’T EVEN HAVE A SECOND TO EVEN GATHER OURSELVES JUST STRAIGHT UP HUH!!!!!!!!! ‘is this your date’ im legally dead

What the fuck.

already im fucking THRIVING im so glad this chapter’s mood got encapsulated within the first ten seconds and im definitely gonna have to re-read this chapter for the full unannotated experience OOOOOOOOOH MY GOD IM SO READY

Glynda’s thoughts ricocheted inside her head like coins left in a dryer. A part of her couldn’t understand what was happening and disengaged. The rest of her, grasping for purchase in all this, reasoned that going with Cinder was better than staying here confused, alone, and utterly displaced.

glynda ‘i aint ever had a gf before’ goodwitch at her PEAK right here. like GOD shes gone from ‘cinder’s trying to murder me’ to ‘cinder just plopped me right into a date’ like CINDER. CINDER YR CHANGING GEARS SO FAST. YOU DIDNT EVEN SEND FLOWERS OR ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

is it because shes a u-haul lesbian or

Higher, Glynda realized the dress itself was backless, revealing the black tattoo she’d seen so often before, perfectly centered between sharp shoulder blades.

this gay energy is BONKERS, quite frankly??????? where did cinder get her dress from? why does she have it? did she buy it just for this fuckery? or will she pull the ‘i just had a this lil number laying around’ line????????? does she wanna seduce glynda to death?????? was this PLANNED OR DID SHE JUST DECIDE SHE WANTED A DATE AND WTH LIFE REALLY IS SHORT ON REMNANT THESE DAYS?????????? cinder fall please explain your workings to the class

maybe Glynda wasn’t the only one who’d become adept at reading her opponent.

👏 when 👏 will 👏 they 👏 kiss 👏 already 👏👏👏👏

me: this is a slowburn also me: if u assholes dont give me this in the next ten seconds-

“Unarmed? As if you could be so helpless.”

cinder’s style of flirting is just. commentating on a person’s deadliness. that’s IT it’s the only TRICK SHE HAS and its working, is the thing,

im reading the description of the table and remembering the shitpost and oh my god i have to draw this???? hell IS real!!!!!! COULDNT YALL JUST TOSS EM IN A PLAIN BOX,

Cinder eyed her from her bastion of dark cushions,

cinder, ass-deep in cushions: this is peak cuddle territory come and join me

Cinder, for her part, seemed delighted Glynda had noticed. Touching the pendant more gently than Glynda might have ever thought her capable of, Cinder said,  “Yours? You didn’t seem to mind parting with it.”

im still deeply enjoying this powermove the novelty NEVER wears off (and at risk of light spoilers i do enjoy its place in this story 👀)

Cinder let the necklace drop, settling against the swell of her bust once more,

/lightly coughs 👀👀👀

im losing my MIND at how gay this bit is i physically cannot HANDLE IT and if they even describe the meal once im gonna pop off cause i am. SO HUNGRY RN. AAAAAAAAAAAA

Cinder indicated a dish of lamb and vegetables, served on a bed of rice and drizzled in some sort of sauce.

SRY THIS ISNT GAY BUT OH MY GOD IM SO HUNGRY I WANNA E A T I T THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD UGHGHGHGHGHGH WHY DID THIS CHAPTER HAVE TO BE TODAY OF ALL THE DAYS,

Glynda cleared her throat, working out: “The Grimm.”

like. GOD WE KNOW GLYNDA IS JUST SO FUNCTIONALLY BAD AT CONVERSATION BUT OF ALL THE THINGS glynda please just. just. stop thinking abt her sexy tattoos for a fifth of a second,

“You can control them.” A sedate blink. For all the world, Glynda might have just commented on the weather.

which is a faux pas for a date!!!!!!!!!!! at least tell her the DRESS IS SEXY WE ALL KNO WHATS WHAT YR THINKIN ABT

Glancing down as though it were being pointed out to her for the first time, Cinder shrugged and adjusted the end of the glove a little higher on her bicep. “And?” 

a quick aside im enjoying how like... visually expressive cinder is in this remaster! i can see her facial expressions and her motions really clearly in my mind’s eye which is a fun little boon if only because i have to redraw this nonsense hjsgdfjhfksgd but cinder’s got a Good Face this time around! A QUALITY FACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You should know by now, there’s something about you that’s simply irresistible to Grimm.”

HERE COMES THE PLOT (and a single surviving line so far... this one sentence has survived all the world could throw at it... we stan)

Cinder straightened, and Glynda saw that this was what she’d been waiting for.

“It isn’t every day the great Glynda Goodwitch kneels before her adversary, is it?”

HELLO??????????????????????????? WHATS THIS WORDING????????? honestly tho for a second i thought she meant like. quite literally and i thought id missed some PROPER SHIT RIGHT THERE BUT YEAH WTH!!!!!!! C I N D E R

“You cheated. You can’t beat me on your own.”

yes glynda we gathered that yr a top

“Really, Glynda? Poison?” she sneered, something like offense simmering in her expression. “After all this?”

looks at the camera

anyway,

god im literally losing grasp of words to say because theres such a charged mood in this scene............. theyre brushing fingers............ trading jabs.......... im slurpin it up babey!!!!!!!! this rly is the BEST remaster of this whole scene it DESERVES this wordcount!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Beat you,” Cinder corrected. “And call it a point of pride.”

yes cinder we gathered yr a brat,

this dynamic is why this fic is so fuckign good when will winter have a swift return to add even more fuckery to this wild ride

Then, with a heavy-lidded look, Cinder found Glynda’s hand between them, the touch so sudden and daring that Glynda flinched. The fabric of those gloves was smooth against Glynda’s flesh, and for all that cruelty had marked every other instance of contact between them, Cinder was surprisingly gentle.

whomp there go my nuts

WHAT IS THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHO MADE THE EXECUTIVE CHOICE TO ADD THIS LINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HELLO???????????? im losing my BRAINCELLS

What she wasn’t ready for was for Cinder to guide her hand to her own throat and hold it there.

THERE IS IT THERE’S THE KINK IT’S BEEN SPOTTED

oh my GOD what even IS THIS WHO ADDED THIS SECTION WHO ALLOWED THIS TO COME TO P A S S WHAT THE FUCK EVEN IS RN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HELLO????????? HEWWO??????????

Now… Now Cinder interested her.

tbh how can i liveblog this? what commentary can i POSSIBLY add that we arent already all THINKING. we just launched into a level of hell so deep that lucifers gonna have to pull some goddamn tricks to follow us down here!!!!!!!!!! WHAT IS THIS SCENE! THIS MOMENT! IM SCREAMING

Glynda mirrored the expression back at him, and finally, he coughed, not making strong eye contact with either of them. He set their plate before them and hurried out without so much as a check-in.

i just KNEW that was gonna happen JHGDSFGJHKSDF he was gonna walk in on SMTHNG but i didnt think itd be CINDER’S CHOKING KINK,

okay i took a break and ate my weight in roast chicken and we’re back babey

Almost nervously, her fingers carded through her own dark hair, and there, among the locks, Glynda spotted a glimpse of something white, structured and ridged.

AND I AM INSTANTLY KNOCKED BACK UPON MY ASS 👈W👈H😨A👈T👈

It was easier to ignore the rest of it—whatever it was.

glynda you are a fool and a moron im withering into DUST

On no level had she expected those to be Glynda’s words.

then what... did she expect... well probably -- and rightly so -- ‘bitch WHAT ARE THOSE’ TBH

wait sorry i have to jump back because i forgot customary fingerguns on the most brazen bit of Shit yet:

Cinder was occupying herself with something else: the head of a dragon, perched over the door and staring down at the two of them with red, glossy eyes.

👈👈👈😎👈👈👈

okay BACK TO THE FIC

Fangs snapped together around the word.

aka back to me horni

/chanting TEETH! TEETH! TE

okay but the reason i doubled back to catch that fingergun is because we’re getting ass-deep into plot now!!!!!!!!!!! WITCHES AND DRAGONS BABEY......... HERE’S WHAT OFFAL HUNT IS ALL ABT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i cant rly drop more fingerguns than that because any astute reader will start realising the dots im shouting abt and honestly half the fun of this fic is the ride so >:3c

“Funny. I was sure he would have told you.”

that blow was so low i think cinder hit the concrete with that one

oh god theyre gonna get to the bit and i-

“Is that what all of this has been about? You called me here to remind me that I'm autistic?”

/SCREAMS

The words were delivered firmly, calmly, but Cinder’s response was the opposite, sudden upheaval seizing her. Her expression opened in something akin to panic. “Wh—no? What? No! That's not what I—”

/SCREAMS

oh my GOD CINDER YOU HAVE FUCKED UP LEGENDARILY!!!!!!!!!! OH MY GOD SHE WAS FELL ASS-FIRST ONTO A LANDMINE OH MY GOD

offal hunt v1 cinder: im totally in control and im playing glynda every step of the way

offal hunt v2 cinder: OH JESUS OH FUCK OH NO THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT-

Cinder seemed genuinely stressed now, speaking quicker as though trying to bury the last sixty seconds.

i knew this remaster would have sections that would blow me away but this bit really took the fcuking cake DGHSJFSJHFDG holy SHIT this is AMAZING

It was difficult to tell in the low light, but if Glynda wasn't mistaken, there was a bright flush of embarrassment coloring Cinder’s cheeks.

this is SUCH prime content hey remember in one of the early liveblogs that cinder would descend into full dork? WELL THE DESCENT CAME EARLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! /pops bottles

“Cinder.” There was a very real line of threat in Glynda’s tone. “Don’t.”

oh this whole scene just keeps getting better i am LOVING this dynamic now!!!!!!! before it was all pretty one-sided so having the conversation rock back and forth is 👌👌👌

That Witch soul of yours—it was designed to void out everything but the prey before you. To be numb to all human emotion. To focus on the hunt and nothing else.

finally the fruit of 50% of my fingerguns COMES TO LIGHT!!!!!!!!!!! PLOT PLOT PLOT

“This is bullshit.” Jabbing an accusing finger at Cinder, Glynda said, “You’re a liar. You’re a criminal!”

i LOVE glyndas pottymouth in this its such a good like... change from her being strict and formal and teachery and now shes full on gremlin huntress hell YES BABY!!!!!!!!!! GO OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“There’s all kinds of things I bet he never told you.” Cinder continued. “Did you know he was close to your predecessor? The Witch who came before you—they were inseparable.”

SRY IM LIKE STRUGGLIN TO COMMENTATE because so much of this like. speaking as an Old-Ass Reader this is like. a LOT! A LOT HAS CHANGED and yet,,,, stayed the same,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, yall kids WILL NEVER KNOW WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL CHAPTER LIKE................ 15 FOR THIS SHIT (but like. chapter 15 was different because this chapter used to be like chapter 7? so now everythings moved along so chapter 15 doesnt sound that impressive but trust me it was a different fic back then)

When they fell away, burnt and ruined, she could see Cinder’s bare arms for the first time. The red lines drawn across her skin sloped down the entire length of her arms, circling her elbows, carved into her wrists. They ended right at her hands, ensuring any long-sleeved garment would hide them. Every covered inch of her was filled like a canvas, like abstract art.

lets pause the fight scene for glynda to be gay!!!!! god im. okay look i said this earlier but im so glad we have more cinder like this tbh. the first version was rly lacking w/ cinder content until late-game when the plot sorta. got itself going? but now we’re eye-deep in this content i LOVE cinder i love this WEIRDO who is a HUGE LOSER and IDIOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM LOVE HER SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And Glynda could not dispel the fear that she had been telling the truth.

and after committing Some Amount In Damages, we’re at the end of the chapter!

okay so i really enjoyed this version SO MUCH MORE. everything abt it was polished and worked together so much better and it really needed the space to breathe in its own chapter. its been horny, gay, intense, hilarious, and way more in one chapter and its SO good this really is PEAK offal hunt!!!!!!!!!!!! good job diesel and kc but im still going to murder you both,

[loonyloomy]

Heat Up, Cool Down [Bakugou/Deku/Uraraka]

Rating: E Word count: 2,800 Warnings: Just...very explicit Links: AO3

A sequel to my previous BKDKUR fic, but can be read as a standalone fic too! Totally PWP with Bakugou getting DP’d by his partners. 

“So? What do you think?” Deku asks.

Bakugou looks on at the screen with blank eyes. “I think porn is a soulless enterprise designed to appeal to the lowest common denominator of horny fuckwits.”

Uraraka’s ankles gently swing back and forth in the air as she lays on her stomach. “I know, right? This video’s so over-produced. And the guy with the two dicks in his ass looks constipated. Not sexy.”

“He sounds like a dying horse, too.”

“Guys,” Deku says with an insistent tone to his voice. Admittedly, he was usually the one going off-track out of the three of them, but still…

Bakugou turns his head away from the laptop sitting on the bed to Deku. “Yeah, I want you to fuck me like that.”

Another overly-exaggerated moan comes from the laptop as Deku swallows and nods. “Okay. Good. Great. H-how should we—?”

“We could use the first strap-on we got; that would make it a bit easier,” Uraraka chimes in, tugging her lip down with her thumb as she thinks. When an ‘Oh god, oh fuck yeah, you’re both so fucking huge!’ emits from the laptop, she pouts and shuts the lid.

“What? No, fuck that, you love the vibrating one. I can handle it, dipshit.”

She smiles at Bakugou and reaches over to take his hand, stroking it gently. “You’re so sweet. Thanks, love. Only if you’re sure, though.”

“Of course I’m sure. You’re fucking delusional, thinking you need to coddle me,” he mutters.

Deku’s expression softens, and he leans into Bakugou’s side. “We just want to know it’ll be good for you, Kacchan.”

Bakugou heaves a sigh, as if all this affection is exhausting to be around. He relents enough to press a kiss to Deku’s temple; Deku responds with a bright grin, pulling out his phone to see when they next have a day off together. He marks it off in his head, a tingling excitement running through his body like his Quirk does.

***

Uraraka falls onto their bed with a groan. “I am so ready to unwind after that hell week. Stupid jumped-up petty thieving little—oof.”

Deku bounces slightly after landing on top of her. He smiles as he squeezes and pulls at those perfect pink cheeks of hers. If she were a dog, she’d definitely be a Shiba Inu, he thinks fondly. She looks grumpy for half a second before his sneaky destressing technique gets through to her, rolling her eyes while trying not to look as amused as she is.

“Okay, okay, pulling my head away from work now, maintaining a healthy distinction between my personal life and my professional life—now can you please get off of me?”

Deku rolls over to the other side of the bed, satisfied. Bakugou is walking across their bedroom floor, giving a “tch” as he picks up their discarded jackets and hangs them up properly. “Think we all need to unwind.”

He looks tense. Deku sits up, reaching out to grab his hand and pull him closer as he rubs little circles on his calloused skin. Bakugou grunts and sits on the end of the bed. He leans back against him, sighing when Deku massages his shoulders.

Uraraka’s arms encircle them both, lingering for a moment before she tugs them down onto the sheets, creating a mess of limbs and grunts until they readjust themselves into a Bakugou cuddle sandwich.

“Gross.”

“Not as gross as it’s going to be when we’re both inside you,” Uraraka taunts.

“The best kind of stress-reliever, right, Kacchan?”

Bakugou barks out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, idiots, I know you randy jerks can barely stand having to wait to fuck me.”

His back muscles relax under Deku’s palms. Deku presses a kiss onto his shoulder, then trails his fingers down his side, creeping around to draw lines on his abdomen under his shirt. Bakugou shifts back slightly, creating more contact between them, and spreads his legs. Instead of going for his crotch, Deku’s hand moves upward; he clenches a firm pec with a grin. Uraraka takes Bakugou’s invitation more directly, rubbing until he starts to harden and tent his shorts.

Deku becomes suddenly bereft of Bakugou’s presence when he swings his leg over Uraraka to grind against her. She makes a pleased sound and lifts his shirt up until he throws it off. “Ah… that feels good…” she says with a roll of her hips.

Deku can feel the rush of blood to his dick as he watches them, Uraraka’s blissed face and Bakugou’s strong roving hands turning him on fiercely. He touches himself, gently to start off with, slow movements of his hand over his growing length.

“God, look at you. So reactive, aren’t you, ‘Chako?” Bakugou taunts with sharp teeth nipping at her jawline.

“Mayyyybeee…” she says, another gasp drawn out of her as he squeezes her breasts.

“Sure you don’t want me to fuck you?”

Uraraka whines. “It’s meant to be you, not me.” Deku thinks she looks unconvinced, though.

“We can do both.” He punctuates this by pulling her clothes off and circling her pussy with his finger. Just teasing, just close enough that it could dip inside her if he pushed it that bit more.

“F-fuck…”

Bakugou cups her cheek in his hand, tilting her ear towards his mouth. “You wanna feel my dick inside you? Hah? Wanna get soaked and come before you get to do the same to me?” He reaches back down in order to discard his shorts and let his cock free, guiding the head up and down her folds and nudging against her clit. The way his length twitches gives away that he’s just as desperate as he’s trying to make her.

Deku’s jerking himself hard now. Fuck, this was so much better than any porn ever could be: the two people he loves, the most gorgeous people on the planet, aching with want and lust right in front of him.

“God, yes, yes, Katsuki, please, fuck me, fuck me.”

Bakugou grins at Deku victoriously—not that Deku thinks in any way that he’s losing by getting to watch them. “Well, don’t keep Ochako waiting, Kacchan.”

He lets out a carnal growl and shoves her leg back so that Deku has a perfect view of him driving into her.

“Ah—!” she moans, nails scratching Bakugou’s shoulders as she tries to find something to grip onto. “Fuck yes, god, yes.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re so wet already. Fucking hell.”

Deku bites his lip, thinking to himself how amazing Uraraka feels, how amazing it’s going to feel when they fuck Bakugou, and he has to keep a hold on his dick to stop himself from coming already.

“Harder, Katsuki, come on,” Uraraka urges, her vigorousness on her clit evident from how fast her arm moves, one of her legs wrapped around his ass and trying to force him to go faster.

He groans and ups his pace, hips like a piston fucking into her. Shit, she really is soaked already; those sounds, so indecently slick… Deku keens as he fucks up into his fist, eager to see her come.

“Yes, just like that—right there—keep going—!” she cries.

“Fuck me, I just wanted to get you off, but you’re making it asshole-ishly difficult for me, Round Face,” he says, but maintains his fierce speed and power, sweat rolling down his temple.

“Yes, yes, yes, y—oh!” Uraraka’s orgasm cascades over her, whining moans accompanied by her arching back and tremors wracking through her. Her leg clenches Bakugou in place up to the hilt inside her as her arm slows down until she’s left panting and dazed.

Bakugou’s jaw is hanging open as hot breaths stream out from his mouth. When her hold on him lessens, he gingerly pulls himself out, his long hard cock still aching for release. As is Deku’s.

“Kacchan, I wanna come inside you so bad.” Tears are building up in the corners of his eyes, and he can tell Bakugou fixates on them when his red eyes move towards him.

“Fuckin’ get on with it then, nerd.”

“Yeah, but…slowly,” Uraraka rasps.

“Okay. Okay.” Deku gulps before he flips over to reach the bedside cabinet, throwing lube and Uraraka’s strap-on onto the bed. He shuffles off so that he can stand at the end as Uraraka winds the toy’s straps around her. “Come here.”

They position themselves close to the edge, Bakugou’s ass up in the air and his head resting between Uraraka’s breasts as she lies under him. Deku’s somewhat preoccupied with how to do this properly and getting himself naked, but the image of Bakugou and Uraraka presenting themselves to him still gets him blushing.

“Okay, I think… I’ll get you prepped while you’re relaxed like this, and then…once you’re stretched around me, Ochako can use her fingers and then slowly get herself in too from underneath you.”

“Yeah, like when you double-teamed me,” Uraraka chimes in.

“That was a good night,” Deku reminisces. The images play out in his head, Uraraka overwhelmed and drooling between them.

Bakugou thwacks him lightly on the thigh. “Get. On. With. It.”

With a small shake of his head, he replies, “Gotcha.” He grabs a handful of Bakugou’s ass and squeezes so that sinful hole of his is bared. The growling in response is a good sign, so he slicks up his fingers with lube and starts fingering him. Despite Bakugou’s protests, he takes his time, enjoying that fervent heat surrounding his digits and building up his anticipation for the next step—and especially the one after. Uraraka is kissing Bakugou’s jawline and running her hands up and down his back muscles; he knows that she’s enjoying making their firecracker wait just as much as he is.

When he’s good and stretched, Deku tugs himself back to full hardness and coats himself enough that he can slide in, hell, effortlessly, gripping hold of Bakugou’s hips and letting his head fall down with a moan. “Oh, Kacchan…”

Bakugou grunts, fucking himself back onto Deku’s dick with a measure of self-restraint he’s finding difficult to maintain, Deku figures from the way his asshole keeps clenching around him.

Uraraka soothes, “Not so tense, Katsuki, shh, there, relax, love,” with caresses to his face. “That’s better.”

The finger slowly pushing in alongside his cock has Deku biting his lip. “Kacchan, you’re so incredible. You’re taking me so well, you feel…” He sniffs, getting a little choked up.

“Fuck’s sake, Deku, calm down with the…the praise until you’re both inside me at least.” Bakugou sucks in a breath as another finger sneaks in and bites down on Uraraka’s shoulder, making her squeak.

“Ah, Katsuki! Are-are you feeling okay like this? Does it hurt? Is it gonna be too much?” she asks in quick succession, her hand stilling as she waits for his answers.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m okay, Mochi, just keep goin’ slow with it. Feels good. Like I’m…” he trails off into a mutter.

Deku leans over him; he strokes Bakugou’s hair and asks, “Like you’re what?”

“Like I’m…y’know…”

“I don’t think we do, Katsuki,” Uraraka says.

“Like I’m yours, completely, fucking-utterly yours!” he lets out loudly as his hands clench the sheets.

The desire sitting in Deku’s gut flares into a blaze, his balls tightening and an unbidden whimper leaving him. “Kacchan…”

“Don’t you dare shoot your load already when I am dying to get off, shitty Deku.”

“Y-yeah, no, I won’t, I just—love you a lot.”

Bakugou grumbles and glares at the mischievous look in Uraraka’s eyes. Her fingers start moving inside him, sliding against the cock Deku has been trying to keep tame while Bakugou adjusts to the stretch. He feels desperate to move but knows he has to save it until the strap-on or else he’ll never last. He clutches Bakugou’s waist to steady himself, thumbs almost touching each other (and briefly remembers the time he was so drunk, he cried over the size of his waist for twenty minutes).

Uraraka gets more lube and experiments with how much she can pull Bakugou open. “How’s this?”

“S’good.”

“Are you… feeling ready?”

“Mm.”

“More positive affirmation, please, Kacchan,” Deku pipes up.

“O-kay, I positively want you to fuck me already!”

Uraraka giggles adorably and grips her strap-on with purpose. She has to wriggle down a bit to make sure she’s in a good position; once she’s satisfied and nudging her toy against Deku and Bakugou, they’re both quivering. Slowly, gently, the sleek head pushes past his tight outer ring. Deku’s holding his breath at the feeling of that friction.

“Oh god, yes,” Bakugou groans. “Keep going.”

More of her length enters him, Uraraka raising her hips and guiding herself in with precision.

Finally, she reaches the hilt, and Bakugou’s sheer brilliance is all Deku can think about. “Wow, Kacchan…”

Bakugou keens, his hands grabbing fistfuls of her hair. “Move, Deku.”

Following orders like an automaton, Deku starts out gradual, but even with this pace, the thoughts going through his head sound like ‘holy shit the feeling of those heated walls and the friction on my dick holy shit.’ “I—I can’t—…”

Bakugou almost drowns him out with his pants and snarls, his writhing body completely caught up in the pleasure whilst Uraraka keeps herself relatively still, turning on her toy’s vibrations for her own pleasure.

Deku speeds up, his lunges leaving him feeling almost stunned as sweat rolls down his back.

With a sob, Bakugou says, “Fuck, I’m so full, fuck, fuck…”

Uraraka whispers, “You okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m just—fuck.”

“Overwhelmed with how sexy we are and how much you adore us?”

“N-ohhh gooood,” he drawls as his back arches.

Uraraka’s face lights up. “Yeah, you totally are. I’ve got you pegged. Figuratively and literally!”

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU FUCKS NO PUNS DURING SEX.”

Deku bursts into unexpected laughter, bright and lingering until he eventually cools down and wipes a tear from his eye. “At least one more time, I suspect.”

Bakugou snatches one of Deku’s hands so he can give him a punishing bite, only serving to make Deku giggle again. “Fuckin’ mood-ruiners.”

“Really, Kacchan? You really think the mood is ruined?” He pulls almost all the way out and slams back in, revelling in the victory he gets when Bakugou gasps. Deku moves down to murmur in his ear, “I’m going to make you come so hard, my shining star.”

Uraraka shares a knowing glance with him and reaches down to wrap her fingers around Bakugou’s dick; Deku sets a punishing pace for him that makes electricity crackle through his own body. He’s hardly able to see when his eyes get misty from tears, only the sensations of enclosing walls, buzzing silicon and his own pulsing member engulfing him.

“Deku, ‘Chako, fucking hell, don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop,” Bakugou says, animalistic.

He winces at the all-consuming pressure, struggling not to come before Bakugou does. He holds out for as long as he can, thrusting into him and against her and the palpable, building ecstasy welling up inside him until he can’t take it anymore; Deku cries out in euphoria as he shoots hot streaks of come into Bakugou’s hole, hips straining to fuck him through his orgasm.

It takes some moments before Deku recovers enough to realise that Bakugou has gotten off too, pearly liquid splattered all over Uraraka’s body. He must have come almost at the same time as him… continually amazing.

Uraraka edges herself out first, then Deku. He’s dying to collapse down on the bed, thighs sore from his workout, but he makes himself get a flannel from the bathroom and clean his partners beforehand.

He falls face-down onto the pillows after that, unwilling to move until his lungs plead for air. “Man…”

“That was tiring for you two, huh?” Uraraka smiles.

“Mph,” is all that Bakugou says.

“Very.”

“Well I, for one, think that was a super great break from work.” She lifts up one of Bakugou’s limp arms so that she can snuggle into his side. He makes no response whatsoever, dead to the world, until reverberating snores emanate from him.

Deku snorts. “Seems like he’s a lot more relaxed now.”

Uraraka runs her fingers through his hair. “That’s good. You know, he didn’t manage to catch the thief we saw on patrol yesterday, that’s what he’s been getting worked up about.”

“Aw. I’m sorry.”

She plants a kiss on the top of his blond head. “That’s okay. We’ll get her next time.” She leans over to give a matching one to Deku. “And you did a Plus Ultra job of taking our minds off of it.”

“Well, you know I am…always here for that,” he says with a little laugh.

“Thank goodness we have you,” Uraraka says fondly before curling up and closing her eyes. Deku decides they have the right idea, sleepiness overtaking him as he tucks his face into Bakugou’s shoulder.

[addicktjimin]

brother’s best friend. || two

Summary: Since you turned sixteen, Jimin (22) realized what woman you had become. He tries so hard to control himself when you are around, as there’s no way he can touch you. Not only because you are the little sister of his best friend but also because you are way too young.   Pairing: You x Jimin ft. brother Yoongi & friend Jungkook Genre: smut [18+], illegal sex, dom!jimin, slight fuckboy!jimin, slow sex, rough jimin, tiny tiny bit angst, young reader, Warning: big age difference between jimin and the reader. Be warned! Don’t like, don’t read!!

Word Count: 7,072

Index: 01, 02

“Oh my God!” You reached for your private parts to cover them from his eyeline, “Don’t you dare look at me! I swear to God, I’ll fucking kill you!” You stumbled to regain your balance when you lifted yourself from him, slamming the door behind you once you fell into your room.

It all happened so fast that all Jimin could do was stare vacantly across the hallway as Yoongi took a step out of his room. All his eyes could meet with was Jimin sat there, confused. “What happened? I heard a scream and a door slam.” Jimin bent forward, ignoring Yoongi’s question completely. He interlocked his legs, putting his hand on his forehead. “Jimin?” Yoongi asked again, his head slowly looking in the direction of your room. He had the worst in mind but he wanted to wait for an explanation before he would attack his best friend again.

Jimin just sat there on the landing with his head in his hands, small muffled laughter escaping his mildly covered mouth: he simply couldn't take this much longer

You heard him laughing as you wrapped yourself in your bed sheets as well as you could. You were fully aware why you hated him - of course, he would laugh in a situation like that. He was such an asshole and at some point, you started to wish that Jimin would be the Jimin that you once loved a lot, you wanted that back because you missed him more than he would ever believe.

“Yoongi, I think I need to pass.” Jimin stood up, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think that I can babysit your sister.” He couldn’t do it anymore. He was trying so hard to maintain his composure but this incident had just been the last punch in the face. He had seen your naked body, that was it for him. If he saw you again, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to control himself.

He wanted to be close to you every second of the day but he wasn’t allowed to touch you so he couldn’t stand it anymore. At some point, part of him thought that he would get over it but even after trying for three years now, there was no change of heart. He couldn’t do it. The tragic thing was that he couldn’t get over it but he couldn’t be with you either. It wasn’t just something sexual for him, it wasn’t that he just found your body sexy. He also cared for you more than he should, there were so many things that he wanted to do with you and for you to do with him but all these fantasies could never blossom into reality. The whole situation was a constant winter and until yesterday, it had been bleak and barren - that was until he heard you talking about him, that was when the first flower bud started to develop, turning winter into spring. But he was very aware that the bud was vulnerable, that it might not survive the harsh winter.

That’s it. He needed to stay away from you completely now. At least, as long it took for him to be able to control himself again - if that was even a possibility for the future.

Jimin had taken off way before Yoongi had even thought about leaving so that meant that he really had no other choice but to leave you alone. When Yoongi left, you were able to see the raw fear and anticipation in his eyes whenever he might look at you but he was forced to put his nerves aside and leave you behind.

You stood by the door, leaning on the doorframe as Yoongi stood outside, in front of you with all of his luggage piled at his feet and bags in his hands. His girlfriend was sat in the car fiddling with the navigation system as she waited for him to say his goodbyes.

“Don’t forget to blow out the candles before you go to bed and if you cook something, don’t forget to turn the oven off afterwards! Oh, and take the trash out before you go to sleep tonight.”

You nodded slightly and rolled your eyes, “I’ve got it Yoongi. Just incase you forgot, this is the tenth time that you’ve told me that now.” You gifted him with a large hug, pushing past his bags, securing him in a brief, careful embrace, “You worry way too much.” You muttered under your breath as he finally nodded to you, letting go of you and walking towards the car.

You waved at him a few times as the car pulled out of the driveway, closing the door behind you once he was finally out of sight. You pressed your back against the front door, slumping slightly as you sighed into the wild oblivion in front of you. It was so empty, so silent, so lifeless. You had become accustomed to Jimin’s lazy arse on that couch and the impenetrable scent of Yoongi’s cigarettes: it was weird when there was no one here. For many people your age, this was normality but it was just difficult for you to accept because this just wasn’t the life that you were used to. Yoongi had never allowed you to stay by yourself before, you were surprised that he didn’t force you to third-wheel his vacation. If Yoongi wasn’t here then your mom would be but this time she was away working in Malaysia. You were officially completely alone.

You could hear the gentle sound of tyre traction on the damp ground outside. Each car drove past slowly as you collapsed against the door. This was exactly the thing, why was it raining in summer? Why was there always something that was bound to ruin it for you? Your thoughts droned around stealthily as you felt the soft vibration of your phone in your pocket. It was one of your classmates, the only one that you really did consider a friend - granted, she wasn’t a close friend but she was one that you could confide in about anything, inclusive of your weakness for Jimin.

When you picked up the call, she was the first to talk. “And? How does it feel to be all alone with Park Jimin?”

“He isn’t here.” Your throat croaked slightly from dehydration, the memory of what had happened a while ago at the forefront of your conscience. “Wait. What? Why?”

You told her everything that had happened, not forgetting a single detail since the event was so crisp in your memory. Despite your immense embarrassment, she just couldn’t seem to hold back her laughter. She went on and on about how much you must have destroyed him, how weak he would have been after seeing you naked: not just this, but the fact that you came into contact with him. For some reason, she was unbelievably confident that this was the reason that he cancelled on you. 

“I bet he’s going crazy right now!” She said with mild laughter whilst simultaneously feeling a little bad for him. “No. Jimin is not the type to over-think something like this. It’s not a big deal, when I was younger, he saw me naked whenever it was bath time.”  You could hear your friend sighing down the line as you literally felt her rolling her eyes. “Goddamn, Y/N! You were ten years old, this is a completely different situation! You’re basically a woman now and he is a man. If you think that he can swallow it that easily then you're even dumber than I thought.” Part of you really didn’t want to talk about this, you just wanted to change the topic of conversation to something that would be less embarrassing for you. Despite all your attempts, it didn’t work; she just wanted to talk about your relationship with Jimin.

You had no idea how long it had been since she had first called you, no idea how long you had been talking about all this but with each minute you could feel yourself becoming more uncomfortable so you moved to the couch, although you still twisted and turned even when you got there.

“I mean, did you ever think about the possibility that he might be in love with you?”  Your eyes widened at her words as you shot up into a sitting position. “What?!” You asked, almost screaming down the phone.

“I mean, it’s very possible…”

You shook your head in rapid succession, “No, Jimin likes older girls - at least, twenty, sometimes - even older than that. He would never fall in love with me. In fact, we used to be so close that he probably sees me more as a little sister than anything else.” You nodded, pleased with yourself because you knew that what you had said had made absolute sense. Even though you were certain of yourself, her question kept digging away at your mind.

If he was in love with you, surely you would have been able to notice it by now. When he was in love, he seemed…actually, how did he act when he was in love? You had never witnessed him talking about his girlfriends more than was considered normal, you had never seen him being all lovey-dovey with the women that he had dated, nor was he more happy when he wasn’t single. He was the same Jimin that he always had been - completely normal, right?

“Are you in love with him?”

This question left you in complete silence for at least five to ten minutes. Thankfully, your friend just waited patiently and gifted you with all the time that you needed before you committed to an answer. Actually, you had never thought about this. Yes, you had fantasies about him; yes - sometimes you imagined what a relationship with him might be like; you wondered how his lips might feel against yours; you wonder if he was a good kisser. Occasionally, you might wonder, if he would ever…touch you and speak to you like he did to his girlfriends. But you had never really thought about whether you were in love with him or not.

You were forced back into reality when your friend’s mom called her. “Sorry, Y/N, I have to go now.” She sounded a little sad because she wanted to know the answer to her question but she also seemed to know that you didn’t exactly have the answer either.

The remainder of the day went by pretty easily even if you were alone. In a way, it was pretty cool to have such a large place all to yourself. You could do whatever you wanted to, you could live by your own rules. There was no Jimin to accidentally walk in on you as you jumped around the room in your underwear, looking for the clothes that you would wear on your date with Jungkook, there was no Yoongi to stop you from going. You stood there for ages, deciding on what earrings and rings you should wear. Really, you were almost enjoying it a little too much. Before you had the time to notice, the sun had descended into the horizon and darkness melted into the sky outside. You watched a ton of age-restricted movies that had been recommended to you by Jimin and Yoongi before you managed to make your way to bed at 2am the following morning.

When you woke up again, you lay there smiling to yourself for a while. Your stomach began to turn as you thought about your date with Jungkook: you were nervous as hell. Yoongi had left a few voice-messages for you, asking you if you had managed to do everything that he had asked of you: you hadn’t. You had forgotten to take out the trash last night so once you had listened to his messages and called him back, you jumped out of your bed and dragged the trash to the curb, thankfully before it had been collected from the other houses.

When the night came, you pulled out the black dress that you had decided to wear as well as the black underwear that seemed fitting. You matched the dress with some thin thighs to conceal the bruises that you had managed to get from walking into something once again. You were clumsy as fuck and it wasn’t worth asking about, considering that you couldn’t even remember getting half of the ones that you had. You had plenty of time to do your makeup really nicely if you had cared but you weren’t really that much of a makeup fan so you just applied some light mascara and a little bit of nude lipstick. Your hair was also done fairly quickly, since it was naturally pretty straight so you could get away with simply straightening over any small curls that you had left.  

Afterwards, you ran to the mirror and looked yourself up and down. Holy shit, you looked ridiculous. Yesterday, you looked at yourself in the mirror and you looked amazing but now, you just looked like a potato in a black dress. Great. The minutes were ticking by as you glanced at the clock on the wall, there wasn’t long for you to find something else to wear but it was enough time. But right when you were about to take off your little black dress, a bell sounded throughout the entire house.

“Are you serious? He is thirty minutes early.” You readjusted your black dress into its appropriate position and ran downstairs. Before you opened the door, you spent a few seconds fixing your hair and dress once more as you cleared your throat and stood up straight.  

The gap in the door widened as you pulled it open and faced Jimin.  

Jimin?

“What the hell are you doing here?! Leave!” You looked past his shoulder to see if Jungkook was standing behind him but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Why-why the fuck are you dressed like that?” He asked sternly, closing the door behind him.

You narrowed your eyes and started to walk back in the direction that you had initially come from but Jimin kept following you. There it was again: the irregular pounding against your ribcage, the butterflies spreading throughout your stomach. This was the worst time that he could decide to show up and look after you. Yoongi could never know that you were going to go out with Jungkook but there was no way that Jimin was going to let this drop. He would thoroughly enjoy telling Yoongi exactly what you had done.

“That’s none of your business.”

“It is.” He whispered more to himself than anyone else, “Wherever you’re planning on going, you can cancel it now.” He positioned his weight against the front door and studied your every move, his gaze piercing you coldly as if he were curious as to how you would react to his next question. “With who?”

“Oh, I, for sure, won’t tell YOU that. Who the fuck do you think you are?” You lifted your phone to see if Jungkook had sent you a message saying that he had arrived or something but no. You needed something to get you out of this situation. You really wanted to go out with him, this was your first date and you really weren’t happy about Jimin trying to ruin it just so he could play with you once again. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. You jumped in mild shock but also in exhilaration; a small smile slowly appeared on your face. Swiftly, you walked towards the door and closer to Jimin, who guarded the front door like a lion would guard it’s young.

You stood your ground: determined with a mad expression drawn across your face, less than a metre parting you from him and the door. “Get out of my way.” You tried to make your voice sound a little deeper in hope that he might be able to realise that you were quite serious about opening that door.

“No.” He answered immediately, a small smirk on his face from the amusement of you trying to command him to do something, even if you knew that he was the one with the upper-hand in this situation - just how he always seemed to have. “Jimin, I said get out of my way!” You laid your hands on his upper arms and tried to push him away with all the strength that you were able to muster up in your weak body. Really, you probably should have listened to Jimin in the sense that you should take up more fitness - not in any other way.

But no matter what you tried to do, he wouldn’t budge a bit. Then, you heard Jungkook’s voice: “Y/N? It’s me, Jungkook.” Jimin rotated his head towards the door so that he could hear him a little better. Then, he slowly moved his head back to face you, raising an eyebrow and trying to maintain his control whilst also containing his anger towards the whole situation. “So it’s Jungkook that wants to jump on you.” You flinched and furrowed your eyebrows. You couldn’t believe how he had just spoken to you, as if you just wanted someone to give it to you good. He had no right to speak to you like that!

Madness spread throughout your body and your fists tightened by your sides, “Jump on me? I’m not a goddamn whore! I’m just going on a date with him. Now, get out of my way: he’s waiting!” It was in this moment that Jimin finally moved out of the way, without muttering a single word.

You pushed him out of Jungkook’s sight and opened the door to be faced with Jungkook’s sparking eyes, his signature bunny smile drawn across his face, “Wow.” He said in a breathy voice, noticeably swallowing. “Y-You look amazing! Ugh, I mean-…I mean incredible!” He was obviously extremely nervous and so were you. Just because Jimin had tried to ruin your date, you didn’t want to be in a bad mood the entire time; you didn’t want to think about Jimin full-stop so you just pushed any thoughts of him to the corners of your mind. At least you tried to.

“Thank you…” You vocalised ever so quietly, awkwardness lining your words from the shyness as you looked down at your feet nervously. Warmth spread across your face and became certain that you were blushing like crazy from such a small compliment.  

Jimin hid behind the door and listened to your conversation, almost making him vomit right there and then. Jungkook was just a loser that had always been entirely head over heels in love with you; that was something that he knew very well. He also knew that he was the guy that had told him that he would ask you out one day but Jimin had never thought that he would actually have the guts to do it, since Jungkook was generally extremely shy. He wouldn’t know how to treat you; Jungkook couldn’t give you what he could.

“Y/N!” Jimin suddenly raised his voice as he emerged from the darkness of the living room. Your eyes grew unnaturally wide and so did Jungkook’s. He cupped your face with his masculine, warm hands and kissed you right in front of Jungkook. His plump lips moved on yours as he took one last glance at Jungkook, smirking softly, before he closed his eyes in satisfaction. He pushed you back a little, surprising you even more, making your head go wild as his military tags clinked together under you.

He let go of you and stared directly at your crimson face, eyes wide with shock. You were unsure if you had actually breathed the whole time. Jimin had just knocked you off your feet, wiping away all your senses in the process: leaving you with only one sensation - the bittersweet feeling of his lips pressed against your lips. He kissed you a few times again, licking at your lips tenderly. He didn’t want to stop, your lips were so addicting. After you turned sixteen, there wasn’t a moment that existed when he didn’t want to claim those lips as his own. It was a huge ask but it was something that was enough to drive him insane because you were in front of him the whole time but he just couldn’t reach you. And yet, after all this pain, he finally could have you.

“You…” Jungkook whispered in disbelief, not understanding the scene in front of him, blushing madly as if the kiss had really taken him off guard. Jimin still kissed you over and over again making loud wet, smacking sounds with his lips on yours. You tasted the alcohol and cigarettes on his lips, enjoying it more than you had originally intended. But you couldn’t maintain your composure - you had a weakness for Jimin so you just let him kiss you and forgot Jungkook completely.

Jimin laid an arm around your waist to keep you in place, slamming the door shut behind the two of you, directly in Jungkook’s face. You were completely exposed to him now, trapped in his gilded cage with chains binding you to him tightly. He didn’t ever want to let go again -  he had waited too long for this moment.

Your mind went completely blank as he kissed you. With his lips dancing on yours, he guided you to the couch. As the back of your knees came into contact with the couch, you fell backwards onto the soft surface below, Jimin following you subliminally. This made you come back to reality and your eyes shot open. “Ji-…hmm…Jimin!” You said between the kiss, forcing him to let go of your lips momentarily but he still hovered above you with his flawless physique. “We can’t-“ 

“I don’t care. I want you under me - wrecked - so that I can burrow my dick into you, princess. There is no way I can stop this now.” He said lifting you up easily and you gasped as he did. It wasn’t that you didn’t want it. God, you wanted it so bad, you wanted him to do everything that he had said. You wanted to hear more filthy words fall from between his heavenly lips, it was an addictive sin but it still was against your brothers will and if he found out just what had happened, Jimin’s funeral would follow pretty soon after.

Jimin still smelled like alcohol and something inside you wondered if he was just acting like this because he was drunk. “Jimin, how much did you drink?” He lowered his head, connecting his lips with your neck and kissing slowly along your most sensitive areas as he carried you upstairs. 

“Just a few.” He answered swiftly. ‘Just a few’ meant that he was drunk. ‘Just a few’ could also mean that he had drunk so much that he wouldn’t remember what he was doing right now.

!WARNING! SMUT BEGINS HERE!

“Jimin, stop!” Your mouth might have been acting on it’s own: your body wouldn’t conform to the thoughts that droned around in your mind. 

“I can’t and I won’t.” Jimin whispered against your neck, finally arriving at your room, kicking the door open with his foot. A loud crack reverberated through the long hallway, making you gasp in surprise. The door swung open forcefully. The lock was probably complete obliterated from the power of that kick. You held onto him, your legs wrapped securely around his waist, hands buried in his soft hair as you moaned loudly into him. The soft sensation of his lips on your neck felt so good that every word escaped from your mouth like a prayer.

You loosened your grip as he lifted you a little to throw you onto the bed. To him, you were incredibly light: it didn’t take much for him to throw you down harshly. You gasped as you landed on the bed and bounced on it a little from the impact. You opened your eyes to see Jimin throwing his black hoodie and white shirt to the side. His necklace hung around his neck, beautifully ornamenting his body. You pressed your legs together in nervousness as you heard the unzipping sound echoing through the room. For some reason, it was a lot louder than it would usually be when it was partnered with the sound of your heart pounding. You pulled your arms and legs closer to your body, you felt so vulnerable under him, almost ready for what was about to happen. The only barrier between him and yourself now was the dress that was draped over your body. “Get out of this.” He commanded, gesturing at your dress. You followed his instructions as quickly as you possibly could, pulling the dress over your head - lying there in only your underwear.

He had you under his spell - you would do anything that he asked of you: “This is so wrong.” You breathed out as you tried to hold your gaze as he combatted you with that dark, lustful stare of his own. “Yeah, it is.” He muttered in his deeper register, voice a little raspy from the cigarettes. He was transfixed on the idea of taking you right now on this bed, he wanted it so much: he was addicted to something he was never meant to fall into yet again. His jeans hung low on his hips as he finally came down to your level with a single body roll. He slid perfectly against your body to kiss your neck, chin and lips. This alone was almost too much for you, you could already feel a dampness between your legs as he moved against you.  

You moaned into the kiss and your hands grazed across his form in a way that was extremely staggered, considering you really couldn’t concentrate on anything right now. They danced to his hips to move his jeans a little lower, causing him to groan deeply: something about it overflowed with lust - it was so seductive. “I’m not good with virgins.” Jimin said, pushing up your bra to expose your boobs. You didn’t really take any notice of what he had said: yes, you heard it but you just ignored it as if it wasn’t something that you wanted to hear. He broke the kiss and took his sweet time worshipping your body as if it were a golden temple.

He locked eyes with you, slowly going down, his hands sliding down your sides, fiddling with your black panties and the hem your pantihose. He pushed one leg between yours, spreading them forcefully, never breaking eye contact with you. You blushed a shade of crimson at the sight of him doing this. Jimin kissed and sucked at your collarbones softly, leaving a trail of wet kisses around your boobs as he finally took a nipple into his mouth, nibbling it lightly. “You like that, don’t you?” You nodded immediately, your head falling onto the soft pillow beneath you, grabbing his head once again.

The hard breathing of the both of you had swirled around the room, heat pushing up against the huge windows behind, clouding them slightly. Yet, he hadn’t even started.

He took care of your boobs well, massaging them and then leaving them glowing from the sloppy kisses that he had placed on them. Jimin finally moved along your stomach and kissed every part of it. You moved under him a little because the sensation tickled slightly. Before you were able to notice it, he was spreading your legs bit by bit to make a room for him. But when you lifted up your head to see what he was doing, you almost forgot how to breathe. He towered over your covered heat, looking down and licking his lips.

You flinched noticeably as he grabbed at your tights and ripped them apart, moving your black panties aside so that he could finally maintain a good view of your core. It took him awhile to proceed to the next step and part of you wondered why he was taking so long.

You thought he might say something before he did whatever he was going to do but no. Without warning, he opened his mouth and slid his tongue against your wet folds. Your eyes shot open, back bending up in the air. You’d never been this far in your life, not even in the fantasies that you had with him. “Ji-“ He licked your folds over and over again in a nice rhythm until he closed his soft lips around your clit, lapping his tongue against it. “You taste better than I ever could have imagined, shit.” He cursed, this long awaited moment was far too addicting for him and the air was thick with lust. Little electric shocks shot through your body and you flinched slightly, pressing your eyes and lips to thin lines. Suddenly, the first series of loud moans tumbled over lips, his name leaving your mouth like a thousand sins. Even when you tried to form sentences, your mouth just turned them into his name, forcing you to beg for him. It felt like the world around you had stopped altogether, as though time

had stopped running. It was as if the thick tension that was radiating off of you was the priority of the universe in that moment. It made your throat dry so you licked your lips, trying to get rid of the strange sensation. Jimin was such a sensual and sexual man. With only his presence, he was able to get you down on your knees in front of him, it was almost insane what kind of control he had over you.

A tear ran down your cheek because you almost couldn’t handle the intensity of it anymore, he moved faster and added a finger to tip you over the edge. He moved his finger in and out of you, sucking and lapping at your clit. You grabbed his head, massaging it as you felt a knot building up in your lower stomach. “I’m- I…I’m cumming?” You screamed as he went faster and faster, his necklace clinking louder with every movement, touching your hot skin.

Your screams got louder by the second, you reached your high, body shaking uncontrollably around his fingers and your legs pressed against his head. You gripped onto the sheets, turning your knuckles white but he still wouldn’t stop. The feeling was so overwhelming that you pushed your body up to get away from him. “S-stop!! Stop! STOP!!!” You moaned loudly as you lifted yourself up even more. Jimin went way too far with this, he didn’t know your limits yet but he was willing to push them. He moved his lips away from your clit and pumped two fingers in and out of you instead. You pushed yourself further backwards but he just mimicked your movements, looking into your eyes as you lost it completely. His arms tensed and veins popped up along his arm from the speed that he moved at.

It was simply too much but he was adamant to ride out your high: you kicked with your legs, grabbing his wrist, trying to push it away. Eventually, you were able to rip his hand away from your dripping core. His hand was gleaming, your juices running down his chin - centred around his lips. Your eyebrows furrowed as you leaned against the big window, chest moving up and down rapidly as the cold glass against your back created a sense of contrast to the heat radiating off of your body.

Jimin lifted his body up and smirked at you. Obviously, completely satisfied with his work. You were breathing so hard, the baby hairs on your forehead were stuck down completely, your whole body shining from the sweat. “Don’t be exhausted just yet, baby. You still have to take my cock and let me fill you up.” As he said that he pulled down his pants, his dick slapping against his abdomen. He had such a well formed body, almost appearing ever so slightly photoshopped. His dick was long and rock-hard and for a moment, you really started to wonder just how that was going to fit inside you. But your thoughts got cut short, when he grabbed your ankles and pulled you down in front of him, positioning himself between your legs. You gasped loudly as he began to massage your abdomen and cover your smaller body with his.

“Goddamn, I’m so fucking ready to show you just how good I can make you feel.” His rough curses and dirty talk managed to turn you on even more.

He came closer to your face, grabbing your chin and lifting it up a little, his hot breath hitting your already flushed face, “If you’re a good girl, you will scream loud for me. Don’t try to hold it in, got it?” You nodded as you released unsystematic exhalations. Jimin’s hand disappeared between your legs and you felt his thumb making circular motions on your clit. He was just playing with you, preparing you for what was to come. Eventually, he grabbed his dick and pushed it into your hole slowly. 

“You’re so fucking tight, this is-“ He laid his body onto yours as he tried to make his way into you slowly. “Fuck.” He suddenly lifted up, pulled out and put a pillow under your arse to lift you up a little more. You got this feeling that he just wanted to be connected with you and you were right: he wanted his dick burrowed into you so he could finally claim you as his own - at least, this was what he was thinking and you knew that this was also what was going to happen. He kneeled between your legs, his dick lined up with your entrance as he pushed in again - this time with way more force. This way it was easier for him and thankfully, you were wet enough. Tears rolled down your cheeks, falling from your eyes like a wild bespatter of rain.

The pain was just so unbearable that  you weren't sure if you were going to be able to handle all this. “Don’t worry, the pain will go away soon.” You didn’t notice the way that he looked at your pain-filled eyes.

“Jimin?” He stopped moving forward immediately and looked into your eyes, “Hold me and don’t leave me.” It was all a little too much for you. You wanted him close beside you, you literally had nothing that you could hold onto and this was driving you up the wall. You wanted to feel him in you, when he entered you, every movement that he would make. He was never good at taking someone’s virginity but when he did, they never complained.

But then again, this wasn’t just sex with someone that he didn’t know, this was making love to a girl that he was well and truly in love with and he knew it. He thought that he was being gentle enough anyway but now, he understood that you needed him as close as he could possibly be. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be near you, it wasn’t like he didn’t want to feel your skin against his own, because he did. He loved it, he just wasn’t sure how to do it properly. He removed the pillow from under your butt and connected your bodies once again. You could feel the sensation of his cold military tags pressed against your skin. The air was thick with the scent of sex. Your hands moved along his sides, holding him tight.

He kissed your forehead and your cheek, moving downwards towards your neck. He was way more gentle now and it seemed like he had lost that vigour and determination to enter you. “I’m sorry.” He said softly as you smiled at his cute, little apology. You sensed his hair tickling your temple and cheek area as he lay on top of you. It also made you feel protected and safe. He supported his bodyweight on his forearms, which were positioned either side of your head so that he didn’t put too much pressure on you as he slowly aligned his dick with your entrance. He kissed you tenderly as the stretching sensation started to burn at your core. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to not concentrate too much on the pain. He took his time pushing into you and this time, it felt substantially better.

“Take me well, baby.” He whispered into your neck as he moved further and further into you. Jimin pulled back a little and slowly drew in again but this time, it was way deeper. This caused you to tense up your body and squeeze your eyes together in pain. His body slid up and down against yours, boobs pressed against his chest as he moved back to take one nipple into his mouth. The feeling of being full and then empty over and over again felt euphoric. Slowly, the pain started to diminish.

“Y/N, I really…need…” He wanted to go faster so you quickly nodded in approval, not letting him wait any longer. With his forehead pressed against yours, he picked up the pace and goddamn, it was incredible. He rolled his hips into yours in perfect rhythm.

Raspy curses slipped out of his mouth more frequently with every minute. It turned you on even more than you already were. “Fuck! Your pussy feels so good around me, fu-” He cut himself off as he lustfully bent down to ghost your lips softly. You noticed the amount of times that he would kiss at your lips, you noticed just how much he loved doing it. The kisses gifted him with the feeling of being closer to you and it was everything that he had ever desired.

Usually, he wouldn’t kiss anyone whilst he was having sex but for some reason, this time - it was different. He wanted to kiss you and if he hadn’t needed oxygen to keep the both of you alive, then he would have kissed you for a lifetime. But despite his desperation, he gave you breaks so that you could catch your breath.

You loved him so much and you wished that he would have done this with you much earlier, which was ridiculous because it was earlier than allowed already.

Your nails sank into the skin on his back, leaving long red stripes on his perfectly defined muscles and scapulae. You didn’t want to hurt him but you couldn’t control yourself. He moaned deeply as you left these stripes on his back - he could feel every movement that you made, he could sense the pain but he loved it to death.

“Kiss my jawline, my face, just-…kiss me.” Jimin command, moans breaking apart his speech patterns. He wanted you to touch him so that he could concentrate on getting his high and filling you up with his sperm. You whined loudly, grabbing at his face and kissing along his jawline, gifting him with as many butterfly kisses as physically possible. “I’m close, baby.” You felt another high coming as he started to move even faster. The bed creaked underneath you as he literally fucked you into the sheets. His moans were louder, your name leaving his mouth as you felt a dart of warmth getting shot through you. This made you moan too. Jimin’s thrusting got sloppier as he tried to ride out his high completely.

But he wasn’t done yet. He stayed inside you and laid two fingers on your clit, rubbing it quickly. You flinched, he really wanted you to cum on his dick one final time. To support yourself, you grabbed his arms and buried your face into his shoulder as he made you come undone.

His forehead met with yours once again as he started to smile so much that his teeth were visible: it was the most beautiful smile that you had ever seen in your life. He had waited for this day for such a long time and he was so happy that he had finally been able to take you for himself. “I love you, Y/N.” He whispered, still hovering above you, still connected to you. His words made you feel light-headed and weird in your stomach but you loved it, you loved him, you loved the moment, you just loved everything.

“I- I love you too.” You stuttered shyly as he rolled off of you, taking you in his arms right away. Jimin was sweating so much that it caused you to blush as you stuck to his side. There wasn’t a word in the English language that could describe how you felt right now. You were lying in the arms of the man that you loved, you had your first time with him and you could have jumped up and down in happiness but that would have ruined the moment. You laughed to yourself at the thought. When Jimin looked down at you, he had no idea why you were laughing: he just lay there in satisfaction, not really knowing how to formulate words anymore.

“Jimin? Does this…make you my…uhm boyfriend?” He opened his eyes to look at you. “Well, do you want to keep on having one night stands?” You rolled your eyes at him and slapped his chest lightly. 

“I mean, we did something illegal and when Yoongi finds out…he-he won’t allow it.” You looked up at him with a sad expression drawn across your face, fearing what was to come after you slept with Jimin, the best friend of your brother. “What if he takes you away from me? I-I don’t want that.” Tears filled your eyes so you pressed your body closer to his, kissing his shoulder and burying your face into his chest again. 

Jimin laughed to himself, “I wish your brother luck with that because this is not going to happen.” His voice was filled a little with amusement but his facial expression was stern. He hugged you tight, his leg over yours, interlocking your bodies perfectly.

“You are mine alone and he can’t take away something that is completely mine.”

[writesaboutbangtan17]

fifteen minutes

seungcheol x reader smut

6,760 words

a/n: i had to write this to expel all of the longing n pain over seungcheol that i’ve developed over the past couple of months, so this is basically just my ruminations on what a great boyfriend and ass man i think he’d be. so...if butt stuff isn’t your cup of tea there’s just a lil bit of it in here, nothing wild. enjoy.

~ in which it’s impossible to get a minute alone and there's not much time to spare, but you and seungcheol make it work

[1:27 A.M.] cheol 👑💕: hey babe are you still up? [1:27 A.M.] cheol 👑💕: we just got home frm practice [1:29 A.M.] cheol 👑💕: babe??? pls be awake [1:33 A.M.] cheol 👑💕: I knowww it's late but 😔 I miss u 😔 [1:36 A.M.] cheol 👑💕: YOU NEVER GO TO SLEEP THIS EARLY [1:36 A.M.] cheol 👑💕: ok. ok it's fine. ur probably cuddled up in bed fast asleep right now. I know u worked late. [1:37 A.M.] cheol 👑💕: it's fine love u I'll just talk to u tomorrow then [1:39 A.M.] cheol 👑💕: but wait ✋ I have a real problem bby!!! I know u would want to help me out. [1:39 A.M.] cheol 👑💕: I'm really doing this for u so u don't feel guilty 😇 [1:40 A.M.] cheol 👑💕: I'm calling you

 You knew there was no such thing as the "perfect boyfriend"—that was just something pre-teen girls whispered about at slumber parties. But once upon a time you had been that pre-teen girl, and while Sojung and Jiyeon cut out bits of male celebrities from teen magazines to create an absolute monstrosity (with Zac Efron's abs and Ryan Gosling's eyes and Chris Evans' hair), you had drafted the complete list of every personality trait, hobby, and talent your dream man had to have.

 These qualifications included but were not limited to: eight-pack abs, the ability to cook a meal so delicious it would make your own mother weep out of jealousy, thoughtfulness so much so that he'd bring you little gifts home just because he was thinking of you, the ability to make you laugh so hard that you cried, he had to be able to play the piano and the guitar and the drums, loyalty to you and only you, passion, ambition but not enough so that he'd put his own goals over your needs, he had to have the emotional maturity to be able to cry during The Notebook, and most importantly, he had to be good at math (because you definitely were not). Preferably, he'd also like all the same things you did and want to get a corgi when you got married.

 12-year-old You had it all figured out, but 22-year-old You knew that perfect man simply did not exist...still, Seungcheol came pretty close.

 So when your phone started playing "I'm Too Sexy" for the third time in the past five minutes from your bedside table, you couldn't ignore him any longer. It was just as you'd managed to fully rouse yourself that the ringing stopped, but you picked up the offending item anyway and checked the eight text messages that he'd sent since you laid down to sleep less than an hour ago. 

 You tried to remind yourself that you loved your boyfriend, you really did. Seungcheol was talented, kind, funny, smart, and handsome, to boot. Even though he was always busy with practice and promotions and raising twelve kids in between, he never failed to make time for you---and when he did, he didn't need or want to brag about the idol he'd met at their last music show or complain about how hard their choreographer was working them. No, he desperately wanted to know if that asshole Jungsoo came through with his third of the work for the big project in your developmental psychology class or hear about how your coworker called out sick and you had to work overtime during inventory or have you walk him through every step you'd taken and every single thing you'd done since he saw you last.

 It had only been nine months, but a part of you was certain that Seungcheol was the one. He made you feel wanted and important, not because he loved you, but with the repeated insistence that your worth was based entirely off of your own accomplishments and talents. Yes, Seungcheol was Good, so you decided he deserved a call back against your better judgement.

 "Y/N!" Seungcheol picked up in the middle of the first ring, but he was dragging your name through molasses. He was exhausted, that much was obvious, but still excited to hear from you. 

 "Hi, Cheol," you said softly, sitting up against your headboard, "what's up?"

 There was a moment of silence, but you heard him hmm as he thought of the words he wanted to say, and you waited patiently. Seungcheol was not the most eloquent man, but he chose his words carefully, and he never said anything he didn't mean. He was the perfect boyfriend in his own ways.

 "I just...I missed you," he admitted. You missed him, too. Although you'd gone a whole month without seeing each other before, the longer you were together and the more you fell in love with him, the more difficult it was to be apart. It had been over a week since you last saw Seungcheol, since he was in the middle of promotions for Seventeen's latest single and practicing for their upcoming world tour. "Sorry I woke you up," he continued.

 "Don't be. Missed you too." You flicked on your bedside light to clear more of the dark drowsiness from your head. Again, there was silence from Seungcheol's end, but it was comfortable. You were glad just to know he was on the other side of the line, keeping you company. Not only had it been over a week since you last physically saw him, but every day there was only a few texts and occasionally a quick good night call between the two of you. Your schedules didn't allow for all the communication you would have liked.

 "What was 'the problem'?" You dared to ask, and Seungcheol's giggle immediately filtered through the speaker and into your ear. A groan of defeat rose up your throat as you realized what you were in for.

 "I know it's late, baby, but...can you come over?" Between the fact that he didn't often have the chance to sneak out of the dorm and over to your apartment, and that at the dorm there were twelve pairs of eyes on the two of you almost constantly, you and Seungcheol's sex life had suffered recently. Three weeks since he'd last buried his dick in you were three weeks too long.

 All there'd been since then was one close call in a maintenance closet at the Pledis building: you were on your knees sucking him dry as you heard Chan, Seungkwan, and Seokmin jogging down the hall calling Seungcheol's name. There had been a rattling of the doorknob and for one frozen, Earth-shattering moment, you couldn't remember if you'd locked it or not.

 Luckily you had, but a new rule was born: no inappropriate behavior at the workplace. And the Pledis building was unfortunately the only place you'd been able to see your boyfriend besides that last time at your apartment, when he fucked you long and hard in your bed until the sun came up. God, you could barely even remember the feeling of his hands on your skin, in your hair; his teeth nipping at your neck, lips wrapped around your nipple; rock hard thighs holding up your own as he gave it to you good.

 "Earth to Y/N," Seungcheol laughed, but it was airy and broken, "answer me, baby. You just moaned out loud."

 Work had been the usual grind that day, and you had to close the store a half hour later than usual because of an old lady who couldn't find the perfect pair of socks that she desperately needed at 10 P.M. Dinner had been cold leftover spaghetti because your microwave was broken and you didn't have the patience to heat it up on the stove, and you'd word vomited a few thousand words for a paper that you knew was going to be garbage until all the letters on the screen had swirled into one blurry mass that you couldn't bear to look at any longer. You were so tired.

 All that being said, you were leaning over to get your feet into your slippers, grabbing your keys from the drawer, and humming "On my way." If anything could re-energize you it was the boy whose warmth you could feel through the phone, all the way from the other side of town---and his dick. Seungcheol was beaming, you could hear it in his voice as he told you how excited he was to see you and told you to be safe, but to hurry. Then he said he had to take a quick shower and promised he'd meet you at their door.

 The twenty minute drive to the dorm felt longer than ever. You weren't sure if that was because you'd been awake for eighteen hours or because the ghost of Seungcheol's touch, his scent, and his panting damp against your neck was sitting in the car with you, haunting you.

 He didn't meet you at the door. It was a good thing you didn't jump into his arms and attach your lips to his the moment it swung open after you knocked, since it was Hansol who greeted you with a toothy grin and flour swiped across his cheeks. "We're making cookies," he informed you, but then he was pushed out of the way by Minghao, stomping out before Mingyu and Seokmin.

 "They're fucking cookies up is what they're doing," Minghao grumbled from underneath his Gucci bucket hat, "we're going for ice cream." Mingyu shrugged as a half-ass apology for Minghao's attitude, and Seokmin just shot you a thousand-watt smile before they disappeared down the stairs and into the night. You looked back at Hansol, whose grin had faltered for just a second, and reached up to ruffle his hair.

 "It smells good," you lied, "who's 'we'?" His mouth spread wide to respond, but the lilting Sunday morning rain is falling from the kitchen was all the answer you needed. The idea of Joshua and Hansol trying to bake sparked the tiniest light of fear in your heart, but you stomped it out. There were more important things to worry about right now, like your boyfriend's hot body and all the amazing ways he knew how to use it. "Teach him a new Maroon 5 song while you're at it," and Hansol was back to full brightness.

 You followed him inside so he could shut the door behind you, then through the living room where Jeonghan and Jun were curled up fast asleep on the couch while the menu for The Human Centipede 2 DVD looped on the TV screen. As he disappeared back into the kitchen, you grabbed the remote to turn the television off and took the blanket thrown over the back of the couch to lay it across their bodies. No big deal, but your heart grew three sizes that day as you watched Jun grab the ends of the blanket and snuggle his nose into it contentedly, settling deeper into the cushions.

 "Where are the others?" Hansol was already back to mixing things when you cautiously set foot into the kitchen, and Joshua was pulling a tray of what you presumed to be burnt snickerdoodles from the oven. Already cooled and grotesquely misshapen chocolate chip cookies filled up a plate on the counter, which Hansol eagerly tipped his head towards when you met his eye. You reluctantly picked up one of the cookies and took a generous bite, hoping you'd get points for this carried over into the next life. As far as you could tell, no sugar had been added to the batter and they'd used about three times too much flour; a whole clump of it got stuck in your throat.

 "Hoshi hyung kept Wonwoo hyung and Seungkwanie back at the practice room," Hansol finally answered when you grimaced through a thumbs-up at him, "Woozi hyung is at his studio, aaand...I haven't seen Channie or Coups hyung in a while, actually." The little shit wiggled his eyebrows as he said your boyfriend's name. Six months ago you would have blushed, but today you just swatted the side of his head on your way out of the kitchen.

 "Well I'm going to his room," you announced with a pointed look that the pair read loud and clear: stay away. Their snickers followed you down the hallway all the way to the last door on the left, cracked open just a sliver. "Babe?" You called out as you pushed it open, taking special care to fix a sultry look on your face---hooded eyes, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

 And there on his bed was Chan, looking innocently up at you from where his head was settled onto Seungcheol's pillow, holding his phone up above him with Girl's Generation blasting from its speakers. "Noona?" He sounded almost scared. You grabbed your jacket to pull it tighter around your chest, suddenly aware of how exposed your chest was by your camisole, and tried to screw your eyes and lips around into an expression vaguely comforting.

 If you had asked Chan, your idea of "vaguely comforting" looked a lot more like you were in pain---but you didn't ask Chan, and instead of telling you so, he continued to stare at you in confusion. "I didn't know you were coming over," he said as he sat up slowly, "hyung is in the shower, I'm waiting for him to come out so I can finally get in."

 You weren't sure what to do---if you should just turn around and wait in the kitchen with Hansol and Joshua or if that'd be weirder than walking in and sitting on the bed to wait with Chan. No, wait, sitting on the bed with this child who was essentially your son in this dark room waiting for your boyfriend to come in so you could have sex with him would be a lot weirder than you making a hasty retreat while trying to forget that Chan was sitting on the bed that you would be getting fucked on not long from now

 "Ok, well, I'm gonna...go? Out. There. To the kitchen," you sputtered as though you'd never spoken human words before, but when you spun around to leave you immediately collided with something warm, firm, a little damp. Seungcheol's hands wrapped around your upper arms to steady you against his chest, and you could feel his laugh vibrate from inside of him.

 "Where are you running off to, baby?" He had a towel draped over his head, and nothing else on but some loose basketball shorts slung low on his hips. You struggled not to start drooling right then and there. The towel framed his face such that his eyes were shaded from Chan's view, so he couldn't have seen the roaring fire in them as Seungcheol's gaze ran laps around your body.

 You hoped you painted a pretty decent picture between your chest threatening to burst out of your tight top and your thighs barely covered by your little shorts and the fuzzy slippers on your feet. If the way Seungcheol's chest started heaving and the low growl from his throat meant only for you to hear was any indication, you did. He didn't let go of you as you took a half-step back from him, running his hands soothingly up and down your arms.

 "Shower's all yours, Channie," Seungcheol said over your shoulder, but he didn't look away from you for even a second. From behind, you could hear the bed shifting as Chan got to his feet and sensed him coming closer until he was shuffling around the two of you in the doorway, awkwardly bowing before he disappeared. You made a mental note to treat him to lunch one of these days---he wasn't stupid, he knew what you and Seungcheol were up to, but he was the only one of the kids who didn't tease you about it even though he was the one most often inadvertently exposed.

 Your boyfriend dropped his hands to cup your elbows and guided you backwards until he could kick the door shut behind him, then let go of you to lock it and throw his towel into the corner somewhere. "Sorry I didn't meet you at the door," he said to which you just shrugged, and let your coat drop off of your shoulders to the floor.

 "How long do we have?" You asked, sitting down at the end of Seungcheol's bed as he picked up your coat and hung it on the back of the only chair in the room. The furniture was lacking---all they could fit around the two enormous bunk beds was a rickety old desk, a hand-me-down dining chair for said desk, and one dresser stuffed with all four boys' things.

 "Once he gets in the shower...it won’t be long until he's in here bugging me about food or something? We'll have to be quick," fortunately the two of you had become experts at quick, "turn and lean over the edge. We have fifteen minutes.”

 Nothing could have given you any greater pleasure than doing just as he said, bracing your knees against the edge of the mattress and presenting yourself to Seungcheol. He came up behind you, grabbing the waistband of your shorts and tugging them down over your hips, past your thighs to sit around your knees. Then, for a moment, he was still.

 "Cheoool, what are you doing?" You whined, wiggling your ass for him, wondering why he hadn't pulled off your underwear and gotten to it yet. Instead of answering, he lowered to the floor, leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on one of your round cheeks.

 "These are cute," he whispered against the fabric of your panties, and it all came rushing back to you---this morning when you realized you'd forgotten to do your laundry again and the only pair you could find were these raggedy old ones with kittens on them. You vaguely remembered an aunt buying them for you one Christmas at the end of or right after high school, and for reasons you couldn't properly explain, you'd moved them around with you that long. Maybe this exact moment was why.

 "Fuck you," you mumbled, and he laughed, "I'm getting to that." Then he did as you wanted, pulling your underwear down around your knees. Of all the most pleasant sounds in the world, none were quite as sweet to your ear as that of Seungcheol's sigh of absolute bliss when he took two heaps of your ass into each of his big hands and squeezed tight. He was definitely a butt man, that you'd known since before you started dating, but you never could have known then how deep his obsession with your ass would go.

 You looked over your shoulder to observe Seungcheol's slack jaw and hooded eyes while he spread your cheeks apart and admired the part of your body that he loved the most. "You're such a perv," you teased him, "just get on with it already." His gaze immediately shot up to meet your eyes, sharp beneath his lashes. With one challenging raise of your brow, Seungcheol lifted a hand and brought it down swiftly.

 "Ow, fuck!" He smoothed his palm over the soft flesh, massaging circles into the spot he'd just hit, and it caught you off guard again when his other hand delivered a quick smack to the other side. Although you winced, you didn't shy away from the spanks---you pushed your ass out further, eager for more. Seungcheol didn't let you down. The pops got harder every time, but you never asked him to stop, not even when there were tears building up and threatening to spill down your cheeks. It hurt, yes, but you were crying because it felt so good.

 But Seungcheol always knew when you were reaching your limits. The very instant you had leaned to one side to brace yourself against the oncoming blow, he stopped. The pink tint that your ass had taken on was more than enough to please him, but not too much that he'd left handprints in his wake. You hadn't been most of Seungcheol's firsts, but you had been his first time spanking somebody. That first time you hadn't used your safe word at any point, hadn't needed to, but Seungcheol still almost cried when he saw the bruises he'd left on his favorite part of your body. Ever since then, his spankings had been on the gentler side.

 "That was for being mouthy and impatient," he explained, "although I don't think you're really learning a lesson when you're enjoying it so much." He had you there, and you hummed through a guilty grin back at him.

 At least five minutes if not more had already had to have passed by now, so as you laid your head back down on the mattress you thought Seungcheol would finally ease himself into you---but in the heat of the moment, you'd forgotten how thoughtful your boyfriend was, and it surprised you when you felt his hot tongue lick a stripe up your slit.

 The shriek you let out was far from sexy, but with his lips wrapped around your clit and the tip of his nose nudging against your hole, he couldn't complain. You moved up onto your forearms so you could look back at the ridiculous sight of nothing but Seungcheol's wet hair visible over your ass.

 "I thought we had to be quick," you gasped, "oral isn't quick," why were you saying this as if he should stop? "...not that I'm complaining." He laughed against you, and the vibrations made you shake and collapse face first into his sheets. Later, if he complained about the drool you got on them, you'd be sure to remind him that it was all his fault for needing to have a taste of you.

 Both of his hands were framing your waist until one of them was leaving its place so that he could venture a couple of fingers knuckle deep into your core. You hissed at the sudden intrusion, reaching back blindly to grab and pull your boyfriend's hair. "Give a girl a little warning," you said.

 "Just needed to feel how hot and wet you were for me," he sighed, detaching his lips from your clit. His other hand wrapped around your waist to rub circles there as he added his middle finger to those pumping inside of you. "It feels good, though, doesn't it?"

 "Ssooo goood," you slurred the words, but you weren't even embarrassed by a reaction like that anymore. You knew Seungcheol loved to see and hear and feel the overwhelming effect that he had on you. On the one occasion that he'd made a point of forcing a third orgasm out of you in one round and you blacked out, he had never felt more proud of himself. Of course, that was after he coaxed you back to consciousness, cleaned you up, and asked you about fifty times if you were sure that you were okay (you were more than okay).

 You hated that you could already feel the swell of imminent release brewing in your tummy, tendrils of arousal reaching out to all the dark and dusty corners. It really had been so long since Seungcheol had gotten his hands on you like this. But then they were gone, he stepped away and you could feel the slick dripping down your thighs from the way that the cold air from the AC nipped at the skin. Your hole clenched, desperate to be filled back up by him, and you didn't even recognize the sound of anguish that you made---something between a sob and a scream and a fucking hex on this terrible, horrible man who loved to make you suffer.

 "I'm right here, baby, I'm here," he smoothed his palm over the small of your back to reassure you of his presence, "but you're right, I can't take my time with you the way I'd like to. Get the lube out of the drawer." You stretched your torso across the bed and violently pulled open the top drawer of the nightstand Seungcheol and Mingyu shared. Just like you remembered, it was filled with books you'd given him that he didn't have the time to read, a dozen half-empty bottles of hand sanitizer you'd left there, a thousand coins, tissues, earrings, and tons of fan letters. One of them had little hearts drawn on the front that couldn't have been drawn by anyone older than thirteen, and it was beneath this one that you found the little bottle Seungcheol had asked for.

    You felt dirty.

 "Thank you, baby," Seungcheol said as he took it, and you watched him squeeze a generous helping into his left hand before snapping the lid closed and throwing the bottle over onto Jihoon's bed. He used his free hand to yank his boxers down, letting his erection pop up and gravitate towards you, then reached beneath your thigh to pull your legs wide apart and settle himself in between them. You closed your eyes again, and heard the most delightful slippery sound of the lube being rubbed between Seungcheol's palms.

 He'd let you pick the lube out yourself when he ordered it, warming and vanilla caramel flavored, but it had hardly been used since then. It had come in handy only on a few occasions---ones during which you had agreed to try anal play with him. Today it was needed because there just wasn't the time for Seungcheol to get you as soaking for him as he'd have liked.

 His hands returned to their favorite place, spreading the lube liberally over your ass and your hips. Any other time you'd have welcomed the massage, asked him to rub the kinks out of your neck and shoulders, but then Seungcheol was leaning forward and nestling his cock between your cheeks.

 "God, you look so fucking hot all oiled for me like this," he hissed, squeezing either side of your ass together as he rocked himself in between them. His grunts of pleasure were music to your ears, but not to your vagina, and you couldn't help the dread that spiked through you as his cock head brushed over your puckered hole.

 You angled your arm behind your back to place a hand over Seungcheol's, squeezing his fingers to get his attention. "No anal, today, buddy," you said, trying to let him down gently. His pout deserved to be kissed away, but it wasn't easy getting yourself up straight in this position to reach his lips.

 "I know, I know," he sighed, trying to hide his disappointment, "just, wow. This ass. It's a good ass." You bit back your laugh and nodded in understanding. Seungcheol reluctantly dragged his hands down until they reached the apex of your thighs, and the feeling of his two fingers slipping effortlessly back into you made your entire body tremble.

 "Want my cock now, baby?" He asked, "I dunno if you're ready for me yet," as he curled his fingers and rubbed the rough tips of them against your walls. You rocked back against him, needing more more more and Seungcheol only laughed. "Can you take a third finger baby girl?" You tried to say yes, God yes, but he didn't need your answer before the third eased in. He loved to spread you wide open before getting himself inside of you.

 A moan came from Seungcheol’s lips, wrapping tight around your form, encouraging you to peek back at him again. It was an obscene sight: him impaling you on three fingers from one hand while the other was rubbing lube over his leaking, swollen cock. Anticipation surged through every inch of your body, you waiting with bated breath as he finally slipped his fingers out to mix your sticky sweet wetness into the coating on his erection.

 You knew it was coming, but you still screamed when your boyfriend shoved himself ball deep into you. Slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the tail end of the sound was the best you could do, and you scrambled to grab one of his pillows from the head of the bed to bite down onto. Seungcheol’s pace was unforgiving, but he didn’t need to be soft with you—between the lube and your own slick and the way you’d opened yourself up considerably to his fingers, you were more than ready for the pounding.

 And it was a pounding, Seungcheol’s hips slamming against your ass. It would’ve hurt if it wasn’t a feeling you were so used to already. As always, he couldn’t keep himself from grunting nasty things at you about how well you took him in. “This body was made for me,” he said, “made for my cock. Look at the way your ass bounces while I fuck you, god, I love it.” His grip on your hips was tight so he could force you back against him, and then one of his hands moved on to more familiar territory, squeezing an ass cheek with all of his strength. He just couldn’t help himself.

 “Next time you’ll let me in your ass, right, baby?” He cooed, a barely there sound but you heard him loud and clear. You’d only had anal sex once and you were almost ashamed of how much you’d loved it, weren’t sure if it was because it actually felt good for you or because it had turned Seungcheol into an absolute beast with no control. “Don’t be scared,” he added, “we’ll work you open with my fingers and your toys. We’ll do it at your place so no one can interrupt us, I’ll spend hours opening you up for me. Okay?”

 Between the grunts and the way his voice caught with each thrust, it took him a good minute to get it all out but he wouldn’t stop until he’d completed the thought. Even with his cock sheathed in your pussy, getting into your ass was a priority for him. “Okay, Cheol,” you groaned into the pillow, “whatever you want, baby. Juuust f-fuck me harder, p-pleeease.” There was drool all over the material shoved into your mouth, leaking to the rest of the cushion but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

 It was a strange sensation when you felt tugging, and a delayed realization that Seungcheol had tangled his fingers in your hair and was pulling your head up, pulling at your whole upper body. The sting in your scalp had you up on your hands to ease the pain, and Seungcheol took the opportunity to reach beneath you and wrap his forearm around your midsection. He tugged you upright to paste his front to your back, and the new angle had the tip of his cock digging into that special spot that set your entire body aflame.

 “Oh God, Seungcheol!” You moaned, throwing your head back over his shoulder and exposing your neck and collar to him. He dove in, feasting on the flesh, intent on leaving a mark that would last until he could have you next. The feeling of his teeth scraping at your jugular and his cock sinking over and over into you was so much, but it didn’t become too much until he reached down to smooth a fingertip over your clit.

 He felt you tighten around him, noticed your chest rising rapidly when your already uneven breathing became erratic and labored. You had put your hands on his arm wrapped around your stomach and when your nails dug mercilessly into his skin, Seungcheol knew you were just at the edge of fucking rapture. “Look at me,” he demanded in a voice entirely too composed for your liking, “don’t you dare come until you look at me.”

 You managed to tilt your head in his direction, forcing your eyelids to peel apart so you could look into his once bright brown eyes now endless inky depths of arousal. The look in them said nothing less than he wanted to eat you whole, and you wanted to let him. Upon eye contact, Seungcheol leaned forward to attach your lips to his. Later, you’d realize that was the first time he’d kissed you since this all started.

 It was hard kissing in this position, and your heads bounced with the force of each thrust but you still tried. Your saliva mixed with his and was spread all around your mouth and your chin but God, you just didn’t care, as long as his cock was inside of you and his fingers were still rubbing circles into your clit and those plush but always chapped lips that you loved were on yours.

 Always one step ahead of you, keenly aware of the most minuscule ways your body moved and reacted that even you would never know of, Seungcheol knew exactly when to move away so that he could slap a hand over your mouth. You screamed into his palm and ground yourself back, squeezing your eyes shut as all the colors in the rainbow burst behind them and danced in your vision. The eruption was all over your body, extending from the pit of your stomach to your fingers to your toes and into your head.

 The feeling of your body undulating against him and your pussy convulsing around his cock threw Seungcheol into his own orgasm, shooting hot streams of cum deep into your womb. It was a feeling you loved, ached for. He bucked his hips a few more times into you, letting you milk him, wringing out of every last drop of his release.

 You sighed dreamily and collapsed back into Seungcheol’s arms, spent. Losing strength quickly, Seungcheol unsheathed himself from inside of you so that he could spin you around and gently lay you down on his mattress, then let himself fall down at your side, wrapped all around you. He was trying hard to catch his breath just so that he could say, “Wow, we’re so good at that.”

 “Quickies? Fuck yeah, we are. Nobody has fifteen minute sex like us,” You agreed with him whole-heartedly. Reigning King and Queen of Quickies.

 Seungcheol giggled, and it was a sound so out of place as his cum swirled around inside of you and his sweaty naked body kept itself stuck to yours, but it made you grin and giggle with him. Soon the both of you were a giggling mess, and you weren’t even sure what you were giggling about. The fact that Chan knew you’d just fucked in here? That you could smell the burning oatmeal raisin cookies from the kitchen? Or, fuck, that you had to work tomorrow after all of this?

 Or the fact that someone was pounding on the door, screaming to be let in or else he would break all of Seungcheol’s bones? It was Jihoon’s voice shooting off threats left and right, and your boyfriend’s giggles immediately died out to be replaced by a gasp and a frightened, wide-eyed glance up at you.

 You had no help to offer up. You didn’t want to die.

 “I’m tired, what the fuck are you doing! We’ve been up since 5 A.M.!” You glanced at the clock on the wall and gawked at the short hand just past the number three. Seungcheol had been up for nearly twenty four hours, but he’d still just fucked you with all the energy in the world. He was superhuman.

 Superhuman and yet scared to death of the 5-foot-nothing boy separated from the two of you only by a big slab of wood. To be fair, he could probably burn it down with his laser vision if he got angry enough, and he was just about there. “Get under the covers! Pretend to be asleep!” Seungcheol was whisper-shouting, helping you pull your underwear and your shorts back on before he threw his comforter on top of you and made a step towards the door.

 You grabbed his wrist at the last second, and ignored the sheer panic on his face to reach up and pat his sex hair down, wipe your drool off his chin, and fix the waistband of his shorts that sat skewed on his hips. “Put a shirt on while you’re at it,” you advised him, and he looked at at you like you’d just solved the mystery of life itself before he grabbed any random shirt on the ground to tug on. You hastily crawled back under the comforter, shoved your face back into the pillow you’d been biting down on,, and made to act like you’d been asleep for hours now.

 Before he opened the door, Seungcheol looked back at you one last time to make sure everything was in place. You shot him a little thumbs-up of support, and could practically hear his heart beating for you from all the way on the other side of the room. What a fucking loser.

    “—the smell of your burning flesh will—” was what Jihoon was in the middle of saying as the door swung open, and stopped saying at the sight of Seungcheol in front of him at last, “I’m actually going to murder you. I don’t make empty threats.”

 “Jihoonie, keep your voice down,” Seungcheol spit out, “Y/N’s sleeping. I was just trying to get out from under her without waking her up.” He sounded scarily convincing, painting this thick layer of grogginess over his voice that hadn’t been there a moment ago. You strained your ears to place exactly where in the room they were as Jihoon shoved his way inside and quietly tiptoed to his bunk.

 If you knew Jihoon, you knew he was suspiciously surveying the scene. But you and Seungcheol had previously agreed on not using condoms, so there was no incriminating foil packet on the floor, and the vanilla scent of your lube drifting through the air could easily be any air freshener. There was the creaking of Jihoon’s old mattress as he dumped himself down onto it, and his grumbled, “Whatever, I’m going to sleep,” then silence. You and Seungcheol had pulled off the perfect crime.

 Speaking of Seungcheol, you felt him slipping under the covers from behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and settling his face against your hair, breathing in deep. “I know I said this earlier,” he whispered, “but I really missed you. And I love you.”

 You finally turned back around, nuzzling into Seungcheol’s pillow and feeling the tug of drowsiness luring you into dreamland. Surely, you’d dream of nothing but chapped lips and chocolate chip cookies and gross-out-horror-movie-nights, and Girl’s Generation would be the soundtrack to it all. “I missed you, too. And I love you.”

 At the last minute, you were jolted out of near-slumber by the feeling of something hard smacking against your waist, and ricocheting to hit Seungcheol right in the face. He sat up, one hand rubbing the little red mark on his forehead, the other grabbing the weapon that had fallen to the comforter and sheets scrunched up around his waist.

 Holding it up to the light of the moon coming through the window, you and Seungcheol looked on in terror at the bottle of lube before both of your heads turned slowly to the neighboring bunk. Jihoon had his back turned, but one of his hands was held up with the middle finger pointed up right at you.

 “Either you move out and into Y/N’s place or I’m gone,” he barked over his shoulder, “God, I’m so tired of this. You two are disgusting.”

 You tried to stop the laugh tumbling out from your chest, you really did…but one look at Seungcheol and the two of you had dissolved into giggles yet again. Jihoon huffed and pulled his pillow over his head, singing loudly to himself to drown you out.

 “I don’t have a schedule tomorrow,” Seungcheol suddenly said through his laughter, “and I’m…not really tired anymore.”

 You definitely got the hint. “Yeah, well…I’m feeling really gross…you could probably use another shower, too…and we should give Jihoonie some peace and quiet, don’t you think?” Seungcheol promptly scooped you up into his arms, hopping off the bed and kicking the door open and carrying you down the hall to the bathroom.

 Scarring even more of his members sounded like the perfect way to keep the night alive—who cared about having to go to work in the morning? Who cared that Jihoon might actually change the locks? Spending as much time with Seungcheol like this as you could was worth it.

[oodlyenough]

fic: scars and stripes

Sasha's eyes were wide, her forehead crinkled, her mouth frozen in a small surprised ‘oh’. It was not an altogether flattering way to be looked at.

“Um…” he started, and then stopped.

“Holy shit,” said Sasha, still staring at his bare chest. “Your arm.”

–

~1.5k, Rhys/Sasha, fluff, comedy, not exactly not safe for work but probably not ideal for work either. Lots of talk about Rhys’ tattoos led to this! Also borrowed a bit from Sasha’s concept art and Rhys’ concept art.

Also on AO3. 

Getting some actual privacy with Sasha was way harder than Rhys anticipated.

Between accidental Vault travel, a couple accidentally intrusive robots, one intentionally disruptive sister, and the really quite considerable amount of courage Rhys needed to make a move in the first place, it took much longer than he would have liked. By the time it finally happened, it had already played out in his head more times—and it more detail—than he’d ever admit to.

Judging by the enthusiastic way she was kissing him and the fact that her hands were wandering—well—everywhere, Sasha felt similarly.

With one hand grasping at any bare skin he could find and the other cupping the back of her neck, Rhys let her walk him backward until his legs hit the edge of the mattress. Sasha grinned against his mouth at the small jolt, and both her hands migrated to the centre of his chest before she shoved him down onto the bed.

Sasha, he was learning quickly, was a little… aggressive.

That was fine. He could work with that.

For a moment she just loomed over him at the edge of the bed, her head tilted in an unmistakable look of self-satisfaction.

Rhys raised an eyebrow, smirking back. “You planning on joining me, or…?”

“Maybe,” she teased, but the next second she was climbing onto her knees to straddle his hips, so that was a win, definitely.

He sat up to kiss her again, propping himself up on his metal arm—easily its best use so far, he thought, as his free hand snaked up under her shirt. The tips of his fingers brushed the soft underside of her breast, and Sasha leaned forward into his touch, her hum of appreciation turning to a frustrated grunt.

“You wear too many clothes,” she grumbled, pushing his jacket down over his shoulders. “Why do you have so many damn buttons?”

“It’s all about the aesthetic,” he grinned, but when the buttons on his vest strained in her haste, he grabbed her hand. “Hey, hey, easy! This was expensive, you know.”

Sasha pulled back enough to fold her arms and roll her eyes.

“Just… here, I’ll… sometimes it gets caught on the…”

He trailed off, focusing all the energy he could spare on getting his jacket, vest and shirt off as quickly as possible. It took, frankly, a little more focus than he would have liked, considering in his periphery he could see Sasha tugging off her red hoodie, and he really wanted to pay attention that, instead.

(Okay, maybe she did have a point about the buttons, in this very specific instance.)

Pulling his arm free at last, he tossed the clothes off the bed with an unceremonious thump and turned back to Sasha. Her black sweater was tantalizingly close to slipping off the only shoulder it covered, but her eyes were wide, her forehead crinkled, her mouth frozen in a small surprised ‘oh’.

It was not an altogether flattering way to be looked at.

“Um…” he started, and then stopped.

“Holy shit,” said Sasha, still staring at his bare chest. “Your arm.”

“Oh,” said Rhys dumbly in return, glancing down at his own arm like it might surprise him. “Right.”

He flexed each metal finger self-consciously, feeling a little silly and a little stunned. People were weird about the arm sometimes, particularly when they saw it up close. Something about seeing it connect right into the skin of his shoulder creeped them out, even if they were perfectly fine with it the rest of the time. The novelty of its various tricks ran out against the reality.

Naively, he hadn’t expected Sasha to be one of those people.

He cleared his throat and attempted to sound casual. “Sorry, is it too cold? I can, um…”

What he was going to offer to do, he wasn’t exactly sure, but the wrinkle on Sasha’s forehead only deepened in confusion.

“Cold?” she repeated. “Why would… oh.” She blinked and shook her head. “Not that one, I meant…” She pointed to his left arm. “You’ve got a sleeve.”

Rhys couldn’t help a quick laugh of relief. Oh, right. That.

“Uh, yeah. Surprise!”

“It’s huge,” said Sasha.

“Yep.”

“It’s blue,” said Sasha.

“Three for three, Sherlock.” But he was grinning again.

“How long have you had that?” she demanded, still transfixed, incredulous enough that he laughed.

“Well, I definitely didn’t get it done on Pandora.” The notion of letting anyone on Pandora anywhere near him with a tattoo gun was horrific, but he decided not to share that thought. He lifted that arm to flex, then regretted it when he remembered that he had no real muscle definition to speak of and Sasha could probably deadlift a horse. “You like it?”

“I can’t believe you have a sleeve,” said Sasha. She grabbed his arm, inspecting it closely, as if she was trying to make sure it wasn’t an illusion, or something he'd got from the bottom of a cereal box. “You’re not hardcore enough to have a sleeve.”

“And yet…”

Sasha climbed off his lap to kneel beside him, and Rhys pouted a little at the loss even as he took pride in the way she was poring over his arm like it was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. He splayed his fingers, and Sasha obliged, looping one of her hands through his.

“This must’ve cost a fortune,” she said. She looked up to meet his eyes again, one eyebrow raised. “You know, your arms combined are probably worth more money than I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Rhys pretended to consider it. “Technically you’ve seen ten million dollars, so…”

With a mock scowl, she tweaked the inside of his elbow lightly. “Smartass.”

She sat back on her heels, her expression turning pensive as she traced her finger along the outline of the pattern stretching down his arm. He wondered if she noticed the goosebumps she was creating.

“I used to want a tattoo,” she said after a minute. “Knew what I’d get and everything.” She pointed to a spot just above her hip, bare now without the red shirt to cover it. “But the money was always better spent somewhere else. Eventually I stopped thinking about it.”

Rhys frowned, looking from the patch of brown skin back up to her wistful, far away expression.

“You could get it now,” he suggested. Unable to help himself, he added, “Unless you were going to get ‘August’ in a heart, or something, then I gotta say—”

“I was thinking a portrait, actually. His face. Just right here.” She patted her side. “That'd be hot, right?”

“Oh, but you'd never find anyone to do those blue eyes justice, and then really, what’s the point?”

“Shut up,” she chided, but she was grinning as she shoved his own arm back at him. “I don’t know. Maybe I will.” She ran her fingers along the spot on her stomach for a second, then shrugged. “No tattoos yet. Plenty of scars, though.”

On instinct he reached for the spot in the middle of her abdomen where she’d once held Felix’s pocket watch. The mark left behind was barely visible, a tiny disruption in her otherwise smooth skin, but he ran his finger over it reverently anyway. It was difficult not to imagine all the other ways that might have played out, and he shivered.

Sasha’s hand ghosted over his for a second, then she lifted up the side of the black shirt still clinging valiantly to her left shoulder. “This one’s more impressive.”

Running across her bottom ribs was a long white scar, new to him. He slid his hand from her stomach to her ribcage and brushed it with his thumb.

“Gross, right?” she prompted.

Her tone was light, and he found it difficult to tell if there was real insecurity underneath. He decided to play it safe.

“Nah.” His thumb traced back and forth down the line and grinned. “Scars are totally sexy.”

Her lips twitched, but Sasha rolled her eyes, dropping her shirt back down. “Oh yeah. Nothing sexier than getting stabbed by a bandit when you’re twelve.”

Rhys felt some of the colour—of which there was, admittedly, probably too much right now—drain from his face. “Okay, well, that’s… you know what, can we maybe just, like, park the conversation about your tragic childhood while I’m half-naked, or…?”

Sasha looked at him sharply, and he panicked that he’d miscalculated. God, why did he have to be such an idiot, all the time? What was it about Sasha’s proximity that made such stupid things come out of his mouth?

He was preparing to beg forgiveness, to grovel in apology, when Sasha's expression turned to a playful glare.

“You’re such an asshole.” She shoved him back down onto the mattress and hitched her leg over him again. Balancing on her elbows, she hovered above him, her smirk a few inches above his face. “Remind me why I like you again?”

“Well…” He craned his neck to kiss her. “Probably because I’m so hardcore.”

Sasha smirked against his mouth and sank down onto his lap again, earning a moan for her troubles. He reached up with both hands, pushing her shirt higher, past the scar on her ribcage, and Sasha sat back, letting him slide her shirt as far as he could before she pulled it over her head and dropped it to the floor. As she reached to remove her bra, Rhys sat up to help, but she pushed him back with one hand, unclasping the bra with the other and letting it fall to the pile as well.

She hadn’t been lying about the scars. He could see them better now, marks of various shapes and sizes scattered here and there on her dark skin. He’d been half joking earlier, but the truth was he did like them; they were testimonies to the fact that Sasha was strong, a fighter, a survivor.

Remarkably, she was every bit as beautiful as his very generous imagination had led him to believe. Maybe even more. He shot her an encouraging smile, and for a split second when she smiled back, she looked uncharacteristically shy.

As quick as it’d come, it was gone.

“‘Because I’m so hardcore’,” she repeated, her voice pitched lower in a poor parody of his, her eyes twinkling wickedly as she grinned. “That…” she said slowly, raking her nails down his chest to reach his belt buckle, “is definitely not why.”

[small-stars-blog1]

Prompt 95, Lams?

Prompt 95—You’re so cute when you’re all worried.

John/Alexander, 1400 words (approc.). John gets drunk, Alex is a worried boyf.

I have literally no excuse as to why this took me so long, I’m just lazy. But! I have lots of time to spare so will be writing a lot more frequently! So feel free to send me more

Alex was home late.Again. For the fourth time that week, his work ethic had forced him to staybehind at his job (even if Washington, his boss, insisted that Alex go home). Alex’s brain, as it often did,had wracked him with ideas and thoughts and he just couldn’t stop writing.

So here he was, at theungodly hour of 1am, creeping around the apartment because John was probablyasleep, if the eerie silence was anything to go by. Alex couldn’t say be blamedhis boyfriend. For the past week John would be up and waiting for him to comehome, but tonight (or, rather, this morning) Alex had really set the boundariesanew. He did manage to pick up a boxof John’s favourites chocolates at the 24-hour garage, as a thank you/apology.

Alex himself wasexhausted, his body practically screaming for a rest, so he decided to leaveshowering for the morning, hygiene be damned. He’d much rather wake up feelinga little disgusted than collapsing in the shower (and, besides, even if he didfall asleep in the shower John would inevitably wake up looking for him, andAlex really didn’t want to make him worry after the week they’ve both endured).

After placing thechocolates on the kitchen-table, Alexander made a bee-line for the bedroom. Hejust barely kicked his shoes off when he opened the door, not bothering tocontain an escaped yawn as he slumped onto his side of the bed.

Huh.

Alex fumbled around onthe bed, reaching to the right side for that familiar warmth he couldn’t seemto find, only—

“John?” Alex called out,sitting upright immediately and peering around the bedroom. He was met with asmuch darkness as before, just catching glimpses of furniture outlines. But noJohn.

Alex was usually a calm,collected person when it came to his boyfriend’s antics. He wasn’t the jealoustype, at least not as much as John could be, and had no quarrels with himstaying out late. Of course he didn’t! John was an adult.

But it’s 1am.

And as the screen of hisphone illuminated his face, Alex saw no text messages. No missed calls.

And it was 1am.

There was immediately avery prominent thud, thump of hisheart in his chest as he speed-dialled John.

And then there was theprolonged beep, beep, beep, whichAlex swore was mocking him as the seconds continued to tick by.

“Come on, John,” Alexfound himself mumbling. By this point he was pacing furiously around theapartment, checking in every room and cupboard. He even checked in the fridge,although he wasn’t quite sure why. “Answer the phone, damni—“

“Heeeey babe!” Came theslurred response, mingled with too-loud music that blared through the speakers.

“Hi?” Alex winced,pulling the phone away from his ear. “Where are you?.”

“What, you missing me inyour—“ hiccup “—bed already,Alexandeeeer?”

Alex assumed that Johnwas trying to sound sexy, and if notfor his overwhelming concern he probably would have found the whole ordealhilarious. So instead, Alex deadpanned, “How much have you had to drink?”

“I’m not sure?Probably—“ There was a loaded pause. “Oh my—yes!I love this song!”

Alex suppressed a sigh, Too much,apparently.

“Do I need to come and get you?” Alex asked, his tone becoming a littlewarmer.

“Yeah, yeah. Come over here!” John said with a chuckle, a sound whichnever failed to make Alex’s chest feel warm and fuzzy.

Try as he might, Alex couldn’t suppress a smile.

“Alright, where are you?”

It took an extra 5 minutes for Alex to decipher an appropriate responsefrom his overly-drunk and humoured boyfriend, and normally Alex wouldn’t mind,but he could hear some heated discussion happening in the background, and that usuallyended in disaster.

“Alright, I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

John’s spoke in a whisper, “Pssssssst, Alex,”

“Yes?”

“There’s some asshole back here,”

Alex’s heart did that horrible thing where felt like it had dropped tohis gut. “Don’t do anything, John. Just—wait outside for me?”

“Sureeeeeee.”

Alex decided it would probably be best just to hang up, grab his keysand launch himself into the drivers seat. Speeding down small city-streetsprobably wasn’t his wisest decision, but the roads were pretty empty. And no-onewas watching. And he was anxious. Oh, was he anxious. His mind was racing. Oh god, what if something happens? Is anyoneeven there with him? But, he’s an adult he can go out with himself—but—

He shook his head of thoughts as he curved into a park space, notbothering to lock the car as he got out (okay, so perhaps he forgot, but that’sbeside the point).

Alex didn’t have to look far, really. In the darkened street, the onehouse with multicoloured lights seeping from all windows and music blaring fromthe inside stood out like a sore-thumb. Having said that, Alex didn’t recognisethis house, a fact which was both intriguing and worrying.

He readied his fists because he doubted anyone would here a subtle knock, knock on the door. If needs be,he would (attempt to) kick the door down, which he realised may not be a veryrealistic goal but he also realised he was a very worried boyfriend, and doorsare no match for very worried boyfriends.

He lifted his fist up to the door when it opened.

“Alex!”

“John!” He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. His fistquickly delved into a supporting hand on the shoulder, because John wasswaying. “John, I almost punched you.”

The taller of the two frowned. “That’s meaaaaan. You need to drink!Yeah.”

“No. I don’t.” Alex bit hislip and tentatively asked, “Are you alright? What happened to that, uh‘asshole’?”

“Um—”

As if on cue, there was some brash shouting in the distance. Alexattempted to tune out the offensive language; if he got mad then John certainlywould and Alex just wanted him home.

John tried to smile, “I might have punched him.”

“Welp, we’re going. Come on,” his grip on the others’ shouldertightened, and he began to drag him out of the house and down the street. Johnwas obviously having difficulties walking in a straight line, so naturally Alexsupported him with a hand to the waist.

“Don’t you want to, um” hiccup, “goback?” He asked, leaning over to Alex and nuzzling into his neck. Johns awkwardposition was making it difficult for Alexto walk in a straight line, now.

“No, John. I don’t.” They neared the car and Alex helped his boyfriendinto the passenger seat, ignoring Johns insistences that he didn’t need helpbecause clearly, he did; John was using the wrong seatbelt, for a start. “John,darling, that’s my seatbelt. Here,let me do yours.”

When Alex finally, finally gotinto the drivers seat and began to drive away, John leaned over to him andpositively purred.

“Aleeex, why wont you love me?”

“I am trying to drive…?”

“You’re angry.”

Alex frowned. He turned a corner, driving at a considerably slower speedthis time. “Not angry. A little annoyed, perhaps.”

“Whyyyyy?” John asked, prodding Alex’s cheek. Neither of them knew whyhe did that for, really.

Alex didn’t answer until they had pulled into park by the flat-complex.The other had spent much of the journey mumbling to himself about something;Alex couldn’t really make any of it out.

“John.” Alex turned to him, “I love you. You know I do. Just,” he huffed.“But, right now it’s one-fourty a.m, and I understand you’re anadult, but one call or text doesn’t go amiss. I was worried.”

John proceeded to poke his boyfriend again. Alex was poised betweengiving in and laughing, because god was John Laurens cute, or being veryannoyed and irritated. He decided to go for the latter, because he wouldn’t forgive himself if this happened again.

“I was worried. I was speeding to get you because I thought youwere gonna get in a fight. Again.”

John beamed, “You’re so cute when you’re all worried.”

Alex pouted. He realised that this was probably a conversation to havewith sober-John, since drunk-John didn’t seem to be computing all that wellright now.

He helped his boyfriend to their bedroom, deciding to leave the apology/thank-youchocolates for tomorrow, too. He wasn’t all that surprised when John collapsedonto their bed, be it from vertigo or sheer exhaustion. Honestly, it could havebeen both.

He mumbled into the pillows, “I love yoou so much, babe. So, so much.”

Alex smiled. “I love you too.” He nudged him, “Hey, don’t you want to get in your PJs?”

But there was no response other than the gentle, slowed breathing thatcame with sleep. Alex crept from the room, grabbed a glass of water and two-paracetamoltablets and put them on the bedside table beside John.

After changing into his own pyjamas, he laid down in bed and was relieved to feel thatfamiliar-warmth at his side again, where it belonged. Still, he made a mental note to have careful words with John when they awoke.

[andromeda---galaxy]

alive and safe and with me

They're sitting at their dining room table and Philip smiles over at Lukas, picking another piece of pepperoni off his slice of pizza. 

 "Why're you still wearing long sleeves?" Philip asks, narrowing his eyes. "It's hot in here."

 Lukas has had a sort of quiet contentment on his face since he got home late this afternoon and he just smiles, shaking his head.

 "How are you not hot?" Philip asks. "I'm hot."

 "Yeah you are," Lukas says, grinning at him.

 Philip laughs, shaking his head. "What's up with you? You meet some new cute guy at that group project thing? You getting ready to tell me you're leaving?"

 Lukas scoffs. "As if," he says. 

 Philip knows it's the most impossible thing, which is why it's so easy to joke about it. "So why are you acting like you're staring at something beautiful?"

 "Well, I am," Lukas says, gesturing towards him. He grins when Philip sits back in his seat, clicking his tongue. "Angel face, you walked into that one."

Philip hums to himself, taking another bite of his pizza. 

 "Can I tell you something I've never told you before?" Lukas asks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. 

 Philip's interest is sufficiently piqued. "Yeah," he says slowly, trying to wrack his brain. He can't imagine something he doesn't know. They've delved into topics that he thought he'd never find out about Lukas, including almost everything he remembers about his mom.

 Lukas moves to sit in the chair right next to Philip and Philip gets a little scared, because he seems so serious. But then Lukas smiles. "Remember after everything happened, they were keeping us in the same hospital room? Because we wouldn't allow it any other way and Helen threw a fit to make it happen?"

 "Of course I remember," Philip says, though diving into the memory is a little difficult. That whole time is drowned in sorrow, in pain, despite his relationship with Lukas officially solidifying. 

 "Well, I know we both had a hard time sleeping," Lukas says, looking down at his hands. "Every time I closed my eyes I saw that asshole's face. I saw him knocking you out, saw him coming at me..." Philip nods and Lukas trails off a little bit, swallowing hard. "Well, I had this thing that I did, for a little while."

 "What was it?" Philip asks, trying to figure it out before Lukas says it. 

 "I'd, uh...watch your heartbeat," Lukas says. He flushes a little bit but his mouth tugs up at the corner. "It was only the first two days they were keeping track of it, but that whole first day I'd stare at the lines on the machine and it....it calmed me," he says.

 Philip stares at him, his own throat going tight.

 "And I know things were....were so bad, they were awful, and you were constantly on the edge of your seat and just...." He doesn't go any farther, only reaches out and takes Philip's hand, holding it against his knee. "That second night, I couldn't sleep. And do you remember what you asked me, before you drifted off?"

 Philip swallows, shifting a little closer towards him. "To, uh...to hold my hand." 

 Philip remembers. He'd found out about his mom the day before and Lukas's words barely touch what he was actually feeling. He felt like he was dying, felt like the whole world was crumbling underneath him, and he knew the doctors were legitimately worried he was going to have a heart attack, which was half the reason why they were monitoring his heart to begin with. His chest ached throughout the day and he could barely deal with her loss, couldn't function properly knowing she wasn't in the world anymore. The only thing that truly grounded him was Lukas's presence, Lukas's touch. Helen helped them push their beds a little closer on that second night, and before Philip tried to fall asleep he'd asked Lukas to hold his hand. Lukas hadn't hesitated before taking it. 

 He'd slept so much easier that night.

 "I remember," Philip says. 

 "I didn't sleep that night," Lukas says, and that's the first Philip has heard of this. "Every time I closed my eyes it just...well, it didn't work out. So I watched your heartbeat on the monitor. And it was so slow and calm, so much better than the day before. I was transfixed by it, I couldn't stop staring at it. I took a picture of it with my phone, I maneuvered around like an idiot because I didn't want to let go of your hand but I finally got it," he says, laughing a little bit, and Philip smiles. "It just made me feel....so good to see your heart beating like that. To know that it meant that you were alive. Alive and safe and with me."

 Philip's eyes are burning. "I love you, babe," he says, because it's all he's thinking, over and over.

 "Love you too," Lukas says, squeezing his hand. "I uh, barely remembered that until recently. It was the other day, when I was laying on top of you on the couch and you fell asleep during Brooklyn 99—"

 Philip snorts, shaking his head. "You're never gonna let me live that down."

 Lukas grins. "No, no," he says. "I zoned out after a bit because I was tired too. We need to rewatch those ones."

 "Yes," Philip says.

 "But I was, uh—listening to your heart," Lukas says, chewing on his lower lip. "And I remembered. And then I uh, had...an idea."

 Philip cocks his head. "An idea?" he asks.

 A wide grin spreads across Lukas's face and he lets go of Philip's hand. He slowly, but surely, pushes up the sleeve on his right arm. He turns his arm over and then Philip sees it. Right there on Lukas’s wrist. And Philip feels like he's been punched in the fucking gut.

 It's a heartbeat line, and Philip’s own name, tattooed onto Lukas's wrist. 

 "I didn't have any group project meeting," Lukas says, soft. "That's next Thursday. I, uh—went to that tattoo place in Williamsburg. Showed the guy the picture I took in the hospital of your heart monitor. So he could get the lines exactly right."

 Philip can hardly breathe.

 Lukas leans in, touching Philip's cheek with his other hand. "I'm so glad you're alive. You’re a miracle. Philip, you're...you're everything to me. The whole world. You're the most gorgeous fucking perfect thing I've ever known, inside and out. And every time I'm steps away from you I just wanna feel your heartbeat. It's the most soothing thing in the world to me. Knowing you're alive. Alive and safe and with me. So that's why I, uh....got this tattoo. Because you're amazing and my favorite and the all-time best thing that has and will ever happen to me." He blows out a breath and smiles, brushes his thumb across Philip's cheek. 

 Philip's heartbeat isn't as calm now as it is on the tattoo. A few tears fall and Philip reaches up, pressing a hand over his mouth. He muffles a laugh that comes out more like a sob, and he just. Cannot. Believe this. He can't find words and he's just staring down at his own name on Lukas's wrist and his fucking heartbeat line and he just can't think, can't think.

 Lukas presses his lips to Philip's cheek and it's the sweetest, sugary kiss Philip has ever experienced. "Do you like it?" Lukas asks. 

 Philip nods and he half sobs again, more tears tracking down his face. Lukas wipes them away and kisses his fingers. Philip pulls his hand away and kisses him on the mouth, climbing into his lap and barely thinking about whether the dining room chair can support their weight. Lukas yelps a little, surprised, but quickly recovers and wraps his arms around him.

 Philip kisses Lukas over and over and just can't deal with this. It's such a huge gesture and he never thought something like this could ever, ever happen for him. It means so much and he feels like he's gonna goddamn pass out.

 Lukas laughs, holding him around his waist. "I guess you like it?" he asks.

 "Yes," Philip says, his voice breaking. “I love it. I love it.” He keeps kissing him and they both hum into each other's mouths, clutching at each other, and Philip feels wild with love for him. Absolutely drowning in how fucking much he loves him, and his chest aches and his throat is closing under his emotion but God, Lukas Waldenbeck is the best thing, the most wonderful thing, the sweetest, most devoted, kindhearted human being on the planet.

 "You're so romantic," Philip gasps, kissing Lukas's lips, their tongues briefly darting out and sliding together. "So tender, so romantic—"

 "Only for you, baby," Lukas says, sucking on Philip's lower lip. "I love you so much. I love you so goddamn much."

 "I love you," Philip says, desperately. He shifts back a little bit, bracing his hands on Lukas's shoulders. "Lemme see it."

 Lukas laughs a little bit and Jesus Christ, everything seems amplified about him right now. His laugh is so sexy. His smile is so beautiful. He draws his right hand forward and holds it between them. 

 The tattoo is so nice. So well done. The font his name is written in is such a nice font. Philip just about wants to die when he looks at it. His name tattooed on Lukas's skin. His heartbeat tattooed there. Philip wants to scream and his eyes fill with tears again. 

 "God," he breathes, shaking his head. He takes Lukas’s hand in his own and brings it up to his mouth, pressing his lips to Lukas's wrist right where the tattoo is. He kisses it twice over, and feels Lukas's pulse speed up right there under his mouth. 

 "You're so fucking beautiful, Philip," Lukas breathes, watching him.

 Philip kisses him again. "I'm gonna get one too," he says, resolved to it. “A matching one for you, in the same place.”

 "It hurt a lot, babe," Lukas says. "I don't want you to deal with that."

 "Too bad," Philip says, kissing it one more time before straightening back up and looking him in the eye. "Just got to get an EKG done and then we're golden."

 "You sure?" Lukas asks, smiling at him.

 "Yeah," Philip says, touching his neck as Lukas wraps both arms around him again.

 "Guess we're gonna have a clinic date," Lukas says, laughing. 

 "Guess so," Philip says, leaning in to kiss him again. He kisses down his neck and buries his face there, hugging him close. "You're my favorite. You are the absolute best." 

 "I love you more than anything," Lukas whispers, rubbing Philip's back, and nothing soothes him more than Lukas's hands. "You know that, right?"

 "Babe, if someone erased my memory, that would be the only thing that would hold on," Philip says. Lukas laughs a little bit and holds him tighter. "I love you," Philip whispers. "I just...I just love you." He presses his fingers against Lukas's neck, feeling his pulse there. He smiles to himself, counting off the beats. 

[salted-barbed-wire]

Boy-Toy

Thanks for the request @oraclegazes

Prompt: (14) We slept in the same bed for space convenience but there’s something about your messy hair and bleary eyes. Featuring: Jon Moxley

Master List Plug!

“Oh Sami!” A moan came from the bed next to mine. “Sami! Get the fuck out of here!” I yelled, mortified. I was on a road trip with my best friend, her boyfriend and their best friend. We had all agreed on two separate rooms; one for the boys, one for us girls. Unfortunately while I was dozing off, Sami managed to sneak into our room and slip into Rachel’s bed. “Sorry, (Y/N).” He said breathing heavily, “There’s no stopping this now.” I jumped up and grabbed my pillow and suit case. “Assholes.” I hissed as I slammed the hotel door behind me. Gross, gross, gross. I shuddered. Then looked at Sami’s room across from mine. Biting down on my lip, I proceeded to wonder if this was a good idea. The thought of the alternative made me gag. No way was I going back into that room. So I walked across the hall and knocked on the door. Squeezing my pillow, I prayed he would hear me calling. It took a minute, but my knocks were answered by a very scruffy-haired, squinting Jon Moxley. Him and Sami had been best friends for as long as I could remember; probably before Rachel and I met Sami. Rachel was a little scared of him, she thought he was too crazy, too much of an alcoholic. “How can you say he’s hot?” She’d say. “He’s practically insane.” Like Sami’s much better. I thought, The man wears eyeliner and yells constantly. “Well, hello you.” Mox’s sleepy smile made my heart pound. “Come for a good night kiss?” I rolled my eyes, but offered him a smile, “Can I come in? This is serious and I really don’t like standing out in this hallway in my pajamas.” Mox looked around, “Oh yeah. Wouldn’t want to attract any weirdos.” He ushered me in, shutting the door behind me. “What can I do for you?”  I looked around the room. His and Sami’s was a lot smaller than mine and Rachel’s. Only one bed..I sighed, “Well I was hoping to take Sami’s bed, since he’s currently rocking Rachel’s.” Mox burst into laughter, “’Rocking Rachel’s’. That’s beautiful, (Y/N).”   “It’s the truth though!” I put my hands on my hips, “I do not want to go back over there.” “I don’t blame you.” Jon shook his head, “You can bunk with me if you’d like.” “Okay, I can take the floor.” “No way! You can sleep in the bed with me.” Mox said as he took my pillow from me. I raised my eyebrow in response. “What? I’m not going to do anything! It’ll be like there’s an imaginary wall between us, separating our sides of the bed.” “Well...” I bit my lip, I AM exhausted. The bed would be better than the floor. What’s the worst that could happen? “Alright, as long as you stay on your side of the bed.” “No problem, darlin’.” His eyes looked heavy, “Now how about we catch some ‘Z’s?”

This is harder than I thought, I mused to myself as I stared at the ceiling. Jon’s snoring wasn’t terrible but I had never actually slept in the same bed as someone before. It was unnerving. Every time he shifted, I about had a panic attack. I was very aware of how the mattress gave as I switched positions. This must be why married couples get divorced. I lie there on my back, Mox’s back was to me. I watch the rise and fall of his upper body as he slumbered. It was almost hypnotizing to watch. Mox rolled over, grumbling some nonsense as he faced me. “What?” I whispered. He fell silent. Mox is actually really sexy when he’s sleeping. I took a deep breath and as gently as I could, rolled over to face him. I bit my lip, examining his facial features. His lips were slightly opened as he breathed. They looked pink and soft. So kissable. Jon’s hair had fallen down in front of his eyes. My hand instictly reached up and brushed it away from his eyes, and I allowed my fingertips to trace along his jaw line. Mox snuggled against my hand and a smile played on his lips. “Mmm..” he moaned. I snapped my hand back to my side of the bed. He’s the one who was told to stay on his side of the bed and here I am getting into his personal space. I sighed, staring at the sleeping Jon Moxley had gotten me... well? ‘Worked up’. Like I was starting to get some pretty good images in my mind of what I was wishing would happen. Like maybe the moment he rolled over onto his back, I laid on top of him, kissing, licking. Until he woke up, his hard cock nearing the entrance of my wet pussy. “Unnfgg” I moaned with a sigh. Like that would ever happen. I rolled over to look at the alarm clock. It flashed 5:00am. Which meant I hadn’t really gotten any sleep. Maybe if I go shower the dirty thoughts will go away. Then maybe I can hit the gym downstairs. I carefully got out of bed and walked over to my suitcase. I was digging through it to find my shower pack when my hand brushed over something heavy, long and rubber. I forgot I brought that. My cheeks flushed with heat and I quickly checked to make sure Mox didn’t wake up to see me holding my pink vibrator. Thankfully, he still laid there in heavy sleep. An idea crossed my mind. I scooped up my shower caddy, a change of clothes, and the vibrator and shuffled off to the shower. Closing the door behind me, I put my shampoo, condition, body wash and toy on the ledge of the tub and the rest of my stuff on the counter. I should probably make this quick. As quick as I could, I peeled my pj’s off and threw them onto the floor. I cranked on the hot water and started the shower. The steam filled the bathroom, it was already covering the mirror. I got underneath the water, making sure I had everything with me. The hot water warmed my body. I traced my finger tips along my skin, touching my breasts and my perked nipples. They trailed down to my heat, gently rubbing my clit. I let out a moan. “Oh Mox...” What if I had Mox in the shower with me? The thought sent goosebumps through me. I teased my clit a little more at the thought of having him lift me up against the shower wall. His lips devouring mine, feeling his cock thrust into me, my back hitting against the wall. I let out another moan and my head began to swim. I grabbed the vibrator off the side of the tub and turned the button on.

After my shower I felt exhausted. The lack of sleep, the warm steam, and the orgasm was really starting to add up. So I got dressed, then wrapped my hair up in a towel. When I opened the door, the cool night air in the hotel room stung my face. I quickly threw my stuff  back in my suitcase and tried to get back into bed. I laid down and covered up. Jon’s body had kept the blankets warm. His back faced mine. I couldn’t hear the deep, relaxed breathing from earlier. Is he awake? “You okay?” I heard his voice. “Yeah, I just needed a shower. I couldn’t relax.” I hope he didn’t hear anything. Mox rolled over to look at me, “Are you relaxed?” “I guess, yeah?” Jon’s blue eyes looked machievous, “Was it difficult to relax?” “Um... what?” I could feel myself blushing. Suddenly his hand was on my thigh, the warmth burned through my clothes. I could feel him on my skin. “I heard you say my name.” A grin spread across his face, “I saw what you took in there with you.” I couldn’t speak, I was thrown for a loop. Jon Moxley heard me moaning his name in the shower. He knew what I was doing in there. I covered my face with my hands so I didn’t have to look at him. I felt the bed adjust as he got up out from under the covers.  Peaking through my fingers, I watched him walk over to my suitcase and pull something out. Jon was only wearing a white t-shirt and boxer briefs.  “Is this what you were using?” He asked walking towards me. I uncovered my face, “Jon, I can explain.”  “No need, darlin’.” He said. Mox looked over the toy, then turned his attention to my body laying in the bed. “You know I’m much bigger than this though right?” I bit my lip again, unsure of how to respond. “If you wanted to play, all you had to do was ask.”  Jon’s fingers brushed against my knee and moved up my thigh to the hem of my sweats. I felt the wetness between my legs build up as the sensation of his hands touched my hip. With one fluid motion, he pulled them off, leaving me in only my panties and t-shirt. He tugged on the string of my thong, “You look good enough to eat.” I swallowed. “So... so do you.” My response was given another side ways smirk. Mox crawled into the bed, kneeling between my legs. He hovered over me for a moment, his face was right in front of mine, close enough to kiss.  “You want a taste?” He growled. All I could managed was a short, nervous nod before Jon Moxley’s lips came crashing down onto mine. His tongue entered my mouth and he skillfully teased my own tongue. I couldn’t help but moan. Buzzz.. I heard Jon hit the on switch to my vibrator, my breath hitched. Jon smiled down at me, “Don’t worry love, I’ll be gentle.” He pressed the tip at my entrance, and moved his mouth down to my clit. My eyes rolled back and another moan escaped my lips as his mouth teased my clit. The toy pushed into me, then pulled back, then in and out. “Fuck, Jon.” I moaned. His tongue was long and nimble and it worked wonders. My back arched at the toy vibrated over my g-spot. That familiar feeling in my stomach began to coil, my moans began to get louder and louder. “Oh my God!” I cried out as I hit my orgasm and my eyes rolled back.  The pleasure washed over me. My face was hot, my head was spinning and I was so wet. Jon thrust the vibrator in and out a few more times while I came down from my high. He watched it move intently.  “Fuck,” He hissed. “You’re so sexy.” I looked up to watch him stand up to undress himself. The shirt came off first, revealing the well sculpted chest and skinny little waist he had. He dropped the boxer briefs to the floor and I my eyes flew open in shock. “You weren’t lying when you said you were bigger,” I said without realizing it. “You sound nervous.” He laughed. “A little,” I admitted shyly. Mox squeezed back in between my thighs, “You’ll enjoy it even more than the toy.” He lined up the tip to my pussy. “I promise.” Jon’s expression darkened a bit and he pushed himself into me slowly. He gave me time to adjust to his girth. The sensation of having Mox’s member filling me up had my eyes rolling back to the back of my head. He started to move, grunting with each slow thrust. “You’re tighter than I’d imagined.” He watched my facial expressions, making sure I wasn’t in pain. “You sure know how to take it though.” I moaned in response. I couldn’t talk, I was already so close. He knew exactly what he was doing and his cock hit that sweet spot over and over again. Mox picked up the pace, the headboard began to move a little. I bit down on my lip so as not to scream too loud. I knew what was coming, and it was going to hit hard. Jon leaned his head down to my bouncing breasts, still keeping pace. He licked the right nipple sending a shock through my body. His lips wrapped out the perked flesh and I couldn’t control myself. My mouth flew open with loud moans of pleasure. “Oh, God, Jon! I’m so close!” I whispered. “Cum for me baby,” He whispered against my skin, raising goosebumps all over my body. I screamed, “Fuck!” And my release came. It was explosive to say the least. I could see dots in front of my vision. Jon’s thrusts became sloppy and he groaned as his load poured into me.  His lips met mine. Mox’s kisses were aggressively passionate, I tried to meet his level of intensity but after that last orgasm I was beat. My eye lids were heavy, my body, though thoroughly satisfied, was exhausted. “You need some sleep,” Jon said as he watched me yawn. “Especially after all that exercise.” “It’s almost time to get up though,” I protested. Moxley shook his head, “We are going to both get some sleep.” He rolled off of me and snaked his arm under my shoulders, pulling me close him. I lie there on his chest, he was warm and comfortable. “Maybe just for a little while.” Mox chuckled, “Sleep, baby.” He brushed his hand through my hair soothingly. I felt my eyes close and the sleep I needed began to take over. It was hard not to be tired laying next to a warm strong Jon Moxley. “Hey, (Y/N).”  He whispered. “Hm?” I managed to reply. “I told you I was better than your toy.” I smiled, “You’re my toy now.” I giggled at the thought, “My boy toy.” Mox chuckled sleepily, “I’ll happily be your boy toy.” And we both drifted off, fast asleep.