#his hair was. so hard to draw idk how you guys draw slicked back hair

[aghostsnail]

this was supposed to be a side doodle for a different sketch but I blacked out and now the ethereal pretty boy gets his own post

blurr for @keferon mecha universe because this au has such a death grip on me :>

[borathae]

↳ Full Art

"You run in on Yoongi touching himself in the shower and he begs you to punish him because of it. Hard."

Pairing: Yoongi x n.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut

Warnings: sub!Yoongi, masochist!Yoongi, rough Dom!Reader, he is naked and wet, CBT, cock slapping, safe ball busting with a knee, leaky cocks, dirty talk, degradation, he wants to be called dirty/bad slut, hair pulling, subby boy tears, drool, praise, handjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), Yoongi has a kink for being manhandled, male masturbation in shower, nipple sucking, cuddly aftercare, he's just a cute lil masochist who wants his balls busted and get hugs after <3

Wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: okay so, I'm trying trying the new format. istfg besties, Patreon is so stressful I might actually cry. idk how to do it so I'll like it 😭 okay so, my idea is that i'll post the story and a very cropped art preview (as seen on the header) here on Tumblr and if anyone wants to check out the full art to the story, they have to go to my Patreon. Engagement as far as stories is concerened is very bad on Patreon *glares* and I really miss yelling about the stories with you guys. So for my own peace of mind, i'll keep the stories on Tumblr and give all my true connoisseurs something extra spicy to thirst over on Patreon hehe <3 thank you for being patient with me. I promise to keep drawing and improving and to feed y'all thirsty hoes (affectionately) as much as I can 💜 also lmao those are long a/n fjajsdf have fun besties sorry it took a lil longer today, i tried to figure out how i wanna do sexy art of the month from now on fajdjfs

The bathroom is fogged up and smells heavily like Yoongi’s soap. Masculine, clean and expensive. You find yourself hazy because of it. What truly seals the state of you, however, is the view. Mirrors misted up, air milky from steam and right there in his expensive walk-in shower, Yoongi is having his throbbing cock in his tight fist. The water is turned off right now, but his body is still wet. His dark hair is slicked back, his silky skin is glistening and his head is tilted back in bliss as soft sighs slip past his pouty lips. 

You walked in on him touching himself. You really didn’t plan on doing so, but can’t seem to get yourself to leave. Or to stop staring for that matter.

He has a languid rhythm going. Slow, but clearly skilled. His long fingers are wrapped tightly around his veiny cock. His thumb is drawing circles on his flushed tip and pretty frenulum. He is sensitive there, likes it especially when someone is being gentle with it. His dark nipples are hard and the pale skin around them is flushed as if he had played with them moments before. Knowing Yoongi, he did. He is such a slut for nipple play. He is so fucking tender there. 

“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out breathily, gliding his left hand up his own torso as he fucks his cock slowly. 

He is tensing and relaxing his stomach, broadening his stance as his knees wobble. He furrows his brows, biting down on his lower lip as small mewls leave him repeatedly. His long fingers close around his own biceps, giving it a needy squeeze. Look at the marks he leaves, look at how he is tensing his muscles.

You find yourself gulping and taking heavy breaths at the view.

What made him so goddamn needy? 

One thing Yoongi rarely does, is to jerk off. He sees it as something useless because if he gets horny, he has you to take the burden off his shoulders. He also rarely gets horny without you in the first place, so there is that. So to have him so incredibly lost in masturbation is rare and therefore insanely addicting.

What made him so needy? Was it a memory? A fantasy? A picture or video? Was it nothing of that sorts and he merely touched his cock wrong as he cleaned himself? Did the water hit the right spot and trap him in the delicious sensation of its wet massage? 

What did it to him?

“___”, Yoongi moans loudly, leaking onto the floor.

Your stomach clenches. Holy fuck. You did it to him. You did. The thought of you, the memory of your touch and the image of you did it to him. You let out a small gasp at the realisation.

Yoongi startles at the sound and opens his eyes. He stops, tenses up. You freeze, holding your breath. The air between you and him is tense and electric. He blinks at you, mouthing your name quietly.

“I uhm”, you begin, clearing your throat loudly.

He drops his hand from his biceps, tightening his fingers around his cock. He can’t seem to leave his trance of shock. The only indicator that the view of you is turning him on, is his increasing breathing and how needily his long fingers still hold his cock.

“I uhm, sorry. I wasn’t staring, I mean, I was but I- sorry, I uhm, I’m gonna leave now”, you stutter and turn to leave.

“Help me.” 

You halt, wobbling slightly because he is making your knees buckle. You turn around, dancing your eyes over his body.

“Sorry?” 

“Help me. Please”, he begs and tugs at his cock weakly, biting down on his lower lip as he does. Look at the needy kitten eyes he is making at you. 

“Really?” you get out, feeling dizzy at the view. You want to ruin this man. You really do.

He nods his head, lowering his eyes at you. He is taunting you as much as he is begging you.

You do not bother to take off your clothes, he only has to nod his head twice and then you are already in the shower, eating him up with just your eyes. 

Yoongi cups your face and kisses you. He mewls needily as he does it, sucking on your lips and tongue more than he actually kisses you. It is so lazy, so slow and yet so intensely passionate. He is so lost in you, so entirely addicted to your taste that he is solely running on it. Whatever he fantasised about before really did it to him. You feel up his torso hungrily, moaning at the delicious taste of him.

He is shivering with each touch, chasing the feeling of you with wiggles of his hips which force his cock to grind against your clothed stomach. The fabric of your hoodie feels rough against his sensitive tip. He craves the silkiness of your skin like plants crave sunlight.

He breaks the kiss with a sigh of your name, resting his forehead against yours. 

“I was bad”, he breathes.

“You were?” you are kneading his waist, staring at his flushed face with hazy eyes.

“Yeah. Thought of you ‘til I got needy”, he rasps and mewls quietly, mouthing at the tip of your nose, “touched myself to you.”

“Fuck, Yoongi.”

“Punish me.” 

“Punish you?” 

“Please.”

You step back and pick up his cock so you could slap his tip. Gently for now, to test the waters. 

Yoongi moans loudly, squeezing your cheeks softly. His knees buckle slightly.

“Like this, mhm?” you ask, slapping him again. Soft. Careful. Get him used to it. Or needy for more. You are fine with both options as long as it ends in your boyfriend panting and needy.

He scrunches his face in pleasure, letting out a shaky “mh-hm” before he follows it up with a breathy, “don’t stop please.” 

“Fuck Yoongi, you’re driving me insane. You’re so hot.”

“I’m a bad slut”, he croaks.

“Yeah, the fucking worst. Bad slut, such a bad slut”, you growl, giving him harsh spanks. Now that you know he wants it, you are so happy to give it to him.

He takes each of your spanks with a blissed moan and a twitch of his cock. His pink tip got so much pinker ever since you started playing with him. His chest is flushed as well, looking so untouched.

You take his heavy cock between your fingers and pick up his favourite rhythm. Then you step closer to litter his chest with kisses. Wet and sloppy. You need to mark his skin as yours and taste him in the process.

Yoongi arches his back, dropping his head against the glass behind him. Your name slips past his lips, his hands grab your waist and squeeze. 

“You’re a bad slut, Yoongi love, but you’re such a pretty slut at that”, you rasp and take his left nipple between your teeth. You tug on it, making him moan. You suck on it, making him mewl. You lick it, making him sigh your name.

He is tender there. Just as you said.

And as you give him heaven with just your mouth, your hands are busy feeling him up. Your right hand fucks his cock like it deserves to be fucked, while your left hand feels up his waist and hips. He fits so perfectly between your fingers. It is like he is made to be touched by you and only you. His skin is so soft and warm, leaving behind wetness on your fingertips from the previous shower. His cock is twitching so cutely in your hold.

You lift your lips from his right nipple after worshiping it as well, tilting your head so you are looking at his pretty face. You cup his pink cheek.

“Look at me.”

Yoongi obeys, fluttering his lashes at you. He is breathing so heavily, gazing at you as if you were his fucking everything.

“You’re a pretty slut. You know that, don’t you?”

He nods his head, choking out a shy “yeah.”

“You do. Good. Don’t forget it, kitten”, you order and slow your hand around his tip. It sits between your fingers. You increase the pressure slightly and move your hand again. Just a little, just enough that he’s getting fucked so good.

Yoongi gasps, widening his eyes for just a second before rolling them back.

“No, no look at me.”

Yoongi obeys with a mewl of your name.

“That’s better. I wanna look at your pretty eyes.”

“I have to cum”, he moans.

“Cause you’re looking at me?”

He nods his head, leaking all over your palm, “can’t hold it…like…this.”

“God, you lovedrunk slut, you”, you tease, giving his favourite spot a good rub.

“Please”, he begs, “please, can I cum?”

“Mhhm, don’t know. Do you deserve it?”

“Please I, mghm, I’ll give you head later”, he bargains with the prettiest kitten eyes.

“Obviously, you’re gonna do that anyways. Do better, Yoongi slut”, you warn, slowing down dangerously.

“Please”, he begs louder and thrusts his hips into your fist. 

It earns him a harsh spank, “behave.”

“Fuck please. I-I’ll cockwarm you, promise I, I won’t move. Please.” 

“But Yoongi, where is the fun in that? I’ll do that anyways. You know that bad, dirty jerk off sluts get cockwarmed”, you coo as your skilled fingers torture his flushed tip. He is burning up, smearing his precum all over your digits. 

“I have to cum so bad”, he croaks and spills tears, “please can I cum? I’ll be so good please.” 

“Fine. You can cum”, you say calmly even if your hand is giving his cock such a good fuck. He didn’t convince you, you just simply have a better way to ruin him how he so clearly craves.

“___”, he moans and closes his eyes sensually. Moments later, his swollen cock releases all over your hand. His knees buckle, he finds support by grabbing your shoulders and arching his back. His moan is loud and drawn-out.

“Look at you”, you moan with him, speeding up your hand now that he is giving you such a good show, “good slut, cum for me. That’s my good slut.”

Yoongi is shaking and trembling in bliss, but soon begins shaking and trembling for other reasons. You aren’t slowing down. His balls are empty, his cock so overstimulated, but you aren’t slowing down. You jerk off his cock as if it has a debt to pay, giving him burning heaven in the process. 

He finally realises what he signed up for and that your sweet words were nothing but deception. He didn’t convince you. You aren’t done with him. One wasn’t enough. 

“Please, please, pl-please”, he begs, trying to flee you as much as chases you. 

“One more, kitten. Give me one more.” 

“I can’t. Oh god, I can’t”, he mewls and stumbles as he tries to flee.

You grab him and pin him against the glass harshly, knocking a weak gasp out of him. His knees buckle, his teary eyes gaze at you with all the devotion he can muster. He loves when you’re rough with him, when you show him that he is yours to manhandle.

“Give me more”, you growl, speeding up around his cock.

“No please”, Yoongi mewls and tries to wiggle away just so you can put him back in his place. He parts his legs, hoping that you take the silent hint.

You do. Of course you do. You lift your knee against his balls hard enough that it hurts. Yoongi folds into himself with a pained moan, grabbing your waist. He is already so fucking hard again, throbbing in your hand as if he never released before. 

“Stop fleeing me”, you growl and knee him again, twisting your hand around his burning tip at the same time. 

Yoongi sobs, burying his face in your shoulder. It hurts so much. He has never been so fucking high on pleasure before. It feels so good. Yoongi swears every second is the best second he ever experienced.

“Understood? You do not flee me”, you give his tender balls one last harsh nudge with your knee, then grab his hair to pull his head back. 

He coughs out a sob, spilling tears and drool all down his pretty face. He can barely even keep his eyes open, let alone stop them from crossing. 

He is so pretty. 

“What’s with that pretty face?” you challenge, pumping his overstimulated cock quickly as you grind your knee against his balls at the same time. 

“Yours”, he croaks.

“That’s right. Mine. My pretty slut.”

“You’re making me cum.” 

“See? I knew you could give me more. Don’t hold back, slut.”

“Knee. Please.” 

You knee him a fourth time. Yoongi wails up, folding into himself in both pain and pleasure before spilling all over your hoodie and his stomach. So his balls weren’t empty yet. Of course they weren’t. You are proving to him how much of a slut he actually is.

He melts into you, shaking on your knee as your name leaves him like his prayer of bliss.

“Good slut, give me everything. Such a good slut. That’s so much better, I knew one wasn’t enough. Your pretty balls are never empty after only one. That’s it. Good slut”, you talk him through it, holding him safely as your hand milks him dry.

Soon Yoongi slacks into you, grabbing your wrist to stop your movements.

“No more.”

You don’t listen just to tease him, giving his burning tip a tight massage. He trembles and writhes, squeezing your wrist.

“Stop.”

You are going to stop, but first you need to tease him just a little more. A few more squeezes and rubs, a little pump and tug.

“Please”, he begs breathily, wiggling his hips away from you.

“You’re so cute”, you coo and finally drop his ruined cock.

“Thank you”, he sighs and sinks into you, hugging you tightly as he recovers.

You hug him back, tracing his spine.

“How was that, mhm?” you ask him, speaking in a soft voice.

He nods his head slowly, humming. 

“Yeah? Was it good for you?” 

“Was perfect”, he lulls and purrs contently, “thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Oh god, I need to lie down now”, he says and chuckles, “my balls are so fucking tender.”

“I can imagine. I kicked them really hard. Are you okay? Should I get something for the pain?”

He shakes his head, “you did it so right. Thank you so much.”

You smile, “that’s good to hear. You’re such a good boy.”

Yoongi nuzzles his nose against your neck and purrs softly, melting under your praise. You know exactly how to love him.

“I love you so much”, he mumbles.

“I love you too.”

“I actually wanna lie down though.”

You chuckle, “okay, okay let’s get you cleaned up and cozy. You’re gonna get back scratches in bed”, you say as you lead him to the shower head.

“And ear rubs.”

“And ear rubs. As my prince wishes”, you say and turn on the water to wash away the mess he left. Yes, you will change into different clothes, “how’s the temperature, love?”

“Good. Nice.”

“Yeah? Is it good how I’m touching you?” you ask as you clean his cock and balls with gentle fingers.

He nods his head, “hm.”

“Good. God, Yoongi love, you’re so handsome.” 

Yoongi blushes, lowering his eyes shyly. Yeah, you definitely know how to love him.

[pedrostylez]

The Shower

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

summary: reader and Javier are coworkers that typically hate each other, but find each other helpful in relieving that stress

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count:1.3k

warnings etc: masturbation (m preforming) beginning with riding, light choking? Idk 

A/N: You know how in Mi Cielo there's mention of reader using Javier to get off and then leaving him still hard before going out to the bar with her friends? Yeah, this is the aftermath of the last time he did that before Mi Cielo. Smutty start, dirty end. Idk man, a guy getting themselves off is hot sorry not sorry. Also this gif is perfect for this

It was absolute bliss with your hands digging into his shoulders, the column of your throat exposed for his lips to devour, and your chest jumping in front of him. He didn’t have to do much, just gotta lay there and enjoy, and enjoy he was. “That’s it, baby, fuck you look so good on top of me.” He spoke gruffly, wanting to watch you finish all over him. 

He hadn’t expected your freshly painted nails to release his shoulder and slide over his mouth. You tilted your head back down to him and smirked, squeezing your hand tighter around his jaw. So fucking hot was all he could think over and over, letting you quiet him as he groaned. You moved your hand to work your thumb on to his mouth, pulling at his bottom lip roughly. 

He watched your smirk fade, eyes shutting and eyebrows coming together in concentration. He could feel you were close, bounces starting to slow down and legs beginning to shake. He leaned forward to take your thumb in his mouth, sucking lightly as he grabbed at your ass to lift you for help. 

It was easy to be generous with you. He loved seeing your chest get red as it crawled up your neck and face, seeing your hair start to stick to your temples for exertion. Feeling you begin to tighten around him was all the encouragement he needed to start lifting you faster, arms slick with sweat and a shoulder he was sure would have your nail marks later. He moaned loudly, popping your thumb out of his mouth and letting you decide where to put it, eventually in the hair at the back of his head. 

He watched you cum, body going loose and moans escaping you. The ripple of you wrapped around him brought him to the edge, panting heavily as he started to warn you. “I’m almost there cariño-”

“Uh-uh Peña.” You breathed, stiffening back up and sitting fully on him, still inside you. You began to lift, making him think you were going to slow it down and draw it out, but instead pulled fully away, a sigh leaving you as you left him. 

Shocked, he watched you pull on your shorts, not convinced you were done. “Where…what are you doing?” His hands lay splayed beside him, open to his ceiling as he looked up at you. 

You smiled again, sliding on your shirt and giving him a pointed look. “I’m getting dressed and I need to meet Susan at the bar.” You finished your buttons, turning around to his mirror at the dresser to attempt to fix your hair. 

He watched you, mouth open and still panting. His orgasm was receding, but blood was still pumping with a vengeance into his dick. You walked over to him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Don’t wait up, Peña.”

He stood quickly as you stepped away, reaching for your wrist. “You’re just going to leave me like this?” He asked incredulously. “I’ve made sure you are soaking the bed after every time with me, hermosa. Am I wrong?” He couldn’t think that this was anything but payback. Has he overlooked an orgasm for you? Did he take when he should have been giving?

You laughed, patting his shoulder. “No, Javier. I just like to see you squirm.” You smiled again, reaching down a finger to touch his weeping head. “Maybe don’t flirt with Amy at work and I won’t do this again.”

He groaned as you brought your finger up to your mouth, sucking off his pre-come and turning around. He stayed put, knowing he was fully naked and not wanting to give his neighbors a show. He listened for you to slam his front door shut, starting your car and driving off. 

“Fuck.” He groaned out, running his fingers through his hair and giving it a tug, feeling the wet spot from your thumb that he had in his mouth moments ago. He stomped into the bathroom, turning on the water and pulled out a towel for himself. 

When he stepped in he sighed, feeling the water on his back but then instantly feeling the sting from where your hand was. He looked down, seeing light scratch marks that made his dick jump up at him, still achingly hard. 

I try to get you riled up once mi luz, and you take it out on me by giving me blue balls? He knew that wasn’t the truth-that he had gotten you riled up as well as he could on multiple occasions and had noticed you take it out on him. He had chosen to ignore how you took it out on him. 

You had brought in pastries recently after the most recent time he flirted with Amy, coffee and an array of sweets. He wasn’t too keen on the pastries, but smiled at you when you brought him and Murphy coffee. You were speaking with Murphy, giving him the run down of his order and how you made sure it was perfect while he took a sip of his own. He had to hold his composure, knowing immediately it was wrong. Two sugars and a splash of cream. I know you Peña. You had said it a week before, and all of a sudden just this black coffee from the bottom of the pot? When he looked up at you he saw you already watching him, a smirk growing on your face. It was on purpose. 

“Amy, is that a new blouse?” He questioned, making you and Amy turn toward him.

Amy giggled, blush rising in her cheeks. “It actually is, Javier. How did you know?”

He smirked, glancing at you and seeing your face blank. “It’s hard to not look at a beautiful woman, Amy.” He winked, watching you again to see the small crease between your eyebrows appear for a second before smoothing over with indifference. 

He walked away as he heard Amy giggle again, hoping it got under your skin. 

He had fucked up. He knew it then with the coffee, and he knew it now with his dick hard in his hand, weeping for attention while you were already at the bar a few blocks away. He thought about getting dressed and following you there, showing that he had every intention of having you.

His hand began moving up and down slowly, groaning out at the feeling but wishing it was you, your hand, your mouth. His eyes snapped shut as he imagined your smile as you kneeled down in this very shower last week, lips wrapping around him to give a single powerful suck before bobbing your head. 

He felt frustration overtake him as he continued his movements, replaying images of you in his mind but not feeling the satisfaction of it being you. He was skilled at masturbating to you, but it had become not enough as soon as you frequented his bed. 

He picked up speed, biting down on his lip and leaning his head into his arm that was supporting him on the shower wall. I think you owe me a face fuck, cariño. The thought alone made him groan out again, the idea of holding your head still against this wall as he pushed forward, your eyes looking up at him with need. 

The image of spit in the corners of your mouth as he face fucked you is what let him finish, moaning roughly as he made a mess into his hand. His body was heating up, more cum than usual spilling from the tease and wait you made him endure. 

He breathed heavily as he began cleaning himself off, looking down at himself and beginning to soften. Maybe he could still go to the bar and watch you dance, even if that was a tease too.

[moonlit-jeno]

red door, yellow door (m.)

pairing: mark lee x fem reader x jung jaehyun

genre/warnings: explicit sexual content | demon au | slight dubcon??? the mans a lust demon idk | Very mild horror themes | minor mlm | don’t attempt this game pls !!!

words: 8.1k

a/n: this is a repost from my old bts blog! pls don’t ask abt it bc i no longer actively follow bts :)

One of these days, you’re going to kill your coworkers.

You love them, you really do, but sometimes they can just be so dumb. It was Donghyuck and Renjun who came up with the idea to play this stupid game, one that is probably only played by naive 12 year old girls during slumber parties.

Normally you’d just brush it off, but Renjun had called you a wimp, so naturally you had to do it. Which is how you’ve ended up on your back with your best friend massaging circles into your forehead.

“Red door, yellow door, any other color door,” is being chanted around the room. You fight the urge to move your neck to a more comfortable position on Mark’s lap. Your hand twitches above your head, where your arms are raised. “This is stupid,” You whisper, and Mark laughs, scolding you lightly.

After a while, the mindless chanting lulls you to sleep, and you feel yourself drift off.

“What do you see?”

Two doors appear in front of you, one red and one yellow. They both look kind of old, paint chipping and peeling off.

“Anything else?”

A black door appears next to the yellow one and you find yourself drawn to it, wanting to go in. This one is shinier, considerable newer and more inviting compared to the other two

“Go in.”

You open the door and walk through, a sense of relief flooding through your senses as you give in to the pull. The room that you find yourself in seems never ending, the only thing in it a large bed.

“Do you see anyone?”

A man appears, sitting on the bed. The suit he’s wearing is unfitting for the plain surroundings- in fact, he’s unfitting for the surroundings in general. His teeth are blinding white when he smiles, not a hair out of place on his entire head. He’s attractive, all golden skin and beautiful features. Almost too beautiful. A shiver crawls up your spine, a tinge of discomfort bleeding into your senses. He smiles, dimples popping out, and you push the discomfort to the back of your mind.

“Who are you?” Your voice comes out distant to your own ears, echoing around you.

“Call me Jaehyun. Why don’t you come here, little bird? We can get properly acquainted.” The voice sounds haunting, like a distorted video. You wouldn’t believe that he’s speaking if his lips didn’t move in sync. Despite the unnatural voice sounding warning bells in your brain, you find yourself moving forward automatically and settling down on his lap when he pats his thigh for emphasis.

“And what’s your name, little bird?” He trails a hand up and down your thigh and you shiver, leaning back against him. He chuckles when you tell him your name, a pleased smile lighting up his features.

“Well, little bird, seems that we’re going to have some fun together.”

Your name is being echoed all around you, and you wake with a jolt, eyes flying open to see Mark staring at you.

“Are you okay?” The rest of your group is also gathered around you, standing in a half circle.

“Yeah, just fell asleep for a bit. Why?” You push yourself onto your elbows, sitting up so that you can lean against Mark.

Donghyuck plops down on the floor, sitting so that he’s facing you. “You were talking like you were having a conversation with someone. Who was it?”

You shrug, trying not to dull his excitement. “I don’t know, just some guy.”

“Was he wearing a suit?” Renjun asks, standing behind Hyuck. He grimaces when you nod. “Y/n, we literally told you not to talk to anyone in a suit. We told you not to talk to anyone. It’s in the rules.”

You roll your eyes, knowing how serious he gets when it comes to stuff like this. “Relax, it’s fine. He seemed nice, and it’s not like it was anything real.”

Renjun still doesn’t look convinced, but Mark interrupts his paranoia by doing what he’s best- or worst, depending on who you ask- at, cracking jokes.

“Hey, was he eating deviled eggs?” He laughs at his own joke, and everyone else groans. “Hey, don’t get mad at me. His place was probably such a hellhole.” The bad mood dissolves into jokes and loud laughter for the rest of the night.

You leave the party- or gathering as Donghyuck had called it because it sounded more mysterious- when it starts storming. The rain drenches you and pretty much everyone else that’s sitting on the porch, leaving you scrambling for shelter. Luckily, Mark offers you a ride.

“Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Mark hollars out the window of his truck, his words getting lost in the night as he speeds off. His truck hits a pothole and you can imagine him swearing as his head hits the roof. Giggling to yourself, you unlock your apartment and slip inside. It’s close to 2 in the morning, so you decide that if you’re already not going to get that much sleep, why not binge Shameless?

You only get through two episodes before your eyelids feel heavy, and you have to fight to keep them open. On screen, there’s a bar fight that you try to take interest in, but sleep quickly pulls you under.

“Welcome back, little bird.” The voice is all around you, but no matter how much you turn and search, no one’s to be found.

“Turn around, little bird, I am here.” Spinning abruptly, you come face to face with the man from earlier, Jaehyun. He gives you a chilling grin.

“So we meet again,” he starts, and his voice no longer sounds eerie or inauthentic. He sounds like, well, a normal man. “Tell me, what would you do if I were to kiss you?”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips on instinct. “Depends. Are you a good kisser?” You aim for coy, but you miss the mark and land closer to worried.

“You could say that.” He pulls you close with one hand on the back of your head, stopping right before your lips. “May I?”

You nod, and he pulls you in for a gentle, closed mouth kiss.

It’s like that touch ignites a fire in you, because before you know it, your arms are thrown around his neck, dragging him closer to deepen the kiss. You lick along his lower lip and he readily grants you access, a throaty groan leaving him when you suck on his tongue. Liquid heat courses through your veins when he nips at your lower lip, tongue flicking over it in apology. You moan, raw and needy. He likes that, if the chuckle and wicked grin is anything to go by. Picking you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, he walks over to a bed that definitely wasn’t there before.

He drops you on the bed, and then suddenly you’re both naked. Jaehyun leans over you, all lean muscles and golden skin. His cock hangs hard and flushed between his legs, and you have the urge to swallow him down. He groans, as if reading your mind, and then reaches to pump himself slowly, long fingers wrapped around the length. “Not now, little bird, not now. I have something else in mind.” With one gentle push to your shoulders, you’re lying flat on the bed, Jaehyun between your legs. His mouth hovers over your core, already wet and dripping despite not having been touched. He plays idly with the slick on your upper thigh, drawing random patterns into the flesh. His eyes are dark, and you could swear that they’re entirely black, no white visible. He peers curiously up at you from between your legs, watching your reaction as his fingers get closer and closer to where you want him. Your breathing picks up as arousal thrums through your body, center pulsing and aching for some sort of relief.

“May I have you?” His breath ghosts over your center when you speak, the sensation making you even needier. 

You nod quickly. “Take it, fuck, you have all of me.” He grins, wasting no time in diving in. His tongue feels impossibly good, licking up your folds and circling over your clit. He leaves sloppy kisses along your core, one hand massaging your thigh and keeping you spread open. You cry out when his tongue pushes into you, his nose brushing your clit and sending sparks up your spine.

His tongue feels impossibly long, so good inside of you that you feel like you’re losing your mind. Your hips buck up desperately, riding his face to hell and back. One arm gets thrown over your stomach to keep you in place while two fingers from his free hand dip into your soaking core, curling into that spot immediately. Stars flash behind your eyes, one hand coming down to fist in Jaehyun’s hair. Your feet scramble frantically along his back, heels digging in in an effort to anchor yourself, toes curling at the sensations singing through you.

You feel your orgasm drawing closer, heat pooling in your center. You whimper brokenly as you try to chase after your high, grinding your hips along his tongue. He lets you, just holding his tongue flat out for you to ride.

You come like that, falling apart on his tongue, screams of his name falling from your lips. He works you through it, tongue gently licking along your folds, slurping up your arousal as if he hasn’t had a meal in weeks.

You lay there, boneless and whimpering weakly through the aftershocks until Jaehyun pulls away to kiss up your body. He licks into your mouth hotly, reminding you that he hasn’t come yet. You bat weakly at his chest, pushing him onto his back. “Your turn,”

He groans in appreciation at the view of you above him. “So perfect, little bird. I’m gonna have so much fun with your soul.”

This sentence freezes you in your spot. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Jaehyun meets your gaze, black eyes entrancing you. “That means, y/n, that I’m going to have your soul. You belong to me now, hmm?” One of his hands plays gently with a strand of your hair. “That’s what you agreed to earlier, no?”

“N-no.” You try backing away, but the inhuman voice from earlier is back, echoing everywhere, repeating his words over and over until you can’t take it anymore-

You wake with a gasp, hitting your head as you sit up. Your computer is still on your lap, episode fifteen playing. Fuck, you’ve only been asleep for forty five minutes. It’s not even three yet, and you don’t have to go to work until eight. Deciding there’s no way you’re falling back asleep, you get up and decide to bake.

Five hours later, your coworkers love you when you show up with containers of cinnamon rolls, five different types of cookies, and a coffee cake. Mark looks mildly worried.

“You okay? I haven’t seen you bake since high school.” You snap out of your thoughts and turn to face Mark. The look of concern on your best friend’s face is enough to make you feel guilty and you nod, forcing a smile onto your face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Had a bad dream last night and couldn’t sleep, that’s all.” You respond, trying not to show how bothered you actually are.

“Wanna talk about it?” Mark leans forward over his desk, chin planted on his hand.

“No, it’s gonna sound dumb.” You whine, shaking your head. And it is dumb, even to you. You’re scared because you had a dream that some man ate you out and then told you he was going to take your soul?

“Well, you always sound dumb. Of course your dreams are gonna be dumb.” Mark laughs as you chuck a piece of cake at him, infectious laugh soothing you. You sigh.

Mark raises his eyebrows at you when you finish telling him your dream. “You’re scared because you had a wet dream? Damn, I’d be living in a nightmare if I was scared after every wet dream I’ve had.”

You kick him under the table. “Mark! It was really scary. He told me he was going to take my soul!”

Upon seeing that you’re actually freaked out, his face softens. “Look, y/n, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You probably just thought that he was hot, and your brain remembered his face and put it in a dream. I wouldn’t worry about it; what’s the worst he’s gonna do, haunt you?”

You give a shaky nod, agreeing. It’s not like something from your dreams could actually harm you. Mark reaches across the desk, taking your hand in his and giving a tight squeeze, warm brown eyes gazing at you openly. “And if something does happen, just remember that I’m your best friend. I’ll be here for you.”

“Thanks, Mark. Means a lot to me.”

He leans back in his seat. “Anytime, anyplace, anything. Triple A.”

You smile, raising an eyebrow. “Anything?”

His eyes go wide, taking in the glint in your eyes. “Within reason.”

“How about a sip of coffee?” You nod down at his cup, pasting a huge smile on your face.

“I did say within reason, so no.”

You huff. “I expected that.”

Although you don’t scare easily, it’s safe to say that you’re a bit unsettled tonight, especially after your nightmare last night. You find yourself jumping at every little noise, hand slamming the light switch on with your pulse racing every five minutes. This has been going on for an hour, and after a final sweep of your room reveals nothing, you decide that maybe a face mask will help you relax.

Your bathroom has two mirrors facing each other, which is normally a blessing when you do your hair, but tonight it does nothing but make you want to hide under your blankets.

Get a grip on yourself, you chastise, grabbing your phone and opening spotify. Maybe some music will help? You click on your Christmas playlist because what better way to cheer up than to think about your favorite holiday?

A mistake, really, because it seems that you’ve forgotten how creepy Santa is.

“He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake,” Yikes. You stop that song in a hurry, feeling anything but comforted. No music then, noted.

You reach for your face wash, turning the sink on and waiting for the water to warm. You can’t help but glance in the mirror behind you every so often, paranoia getting the best of you. Man, you feel pathetic, worrying about monsters in your closet like you’re six and not twenty-six.

You wash your face quickly, hoping that your fears will wash away as well. No such luck.

You swear you see something move behind you after you dry your face off, but there’s nothing there. Shaking it off, you reach for your face mask, taking your time painting your face with the green clay.

It’s after your face is coated that you spot someone in the glass behind you. You scream, whipping around to come face to face with a man. Not just any man- Jaehyun.

Your heart thunders in your chest, eyes widening in fear. He seems to be in the mirror, copying your petrified expression mockingly.

“Hello, little bird.” He purrs, smirking lightly.

“Are you- are you in my mirror?” You’re in disbelief, mind struggling to comprehend this. First you spot him while in a weird trance, then in a dream, and now in your mirror? Maybe you’re having a quarter life crisis.

“No, I am not. Mirrors are just gateways to alternate dimensions. I’m merely using the mirror to visit you.” He says this like it’s common knowledge. It feels like your throat is made of sandpaper with how hard it is to choke out your words. “O-okay. I’m just gonna- yeah.”

You grab your phone from the counter and bolt, fumbling for your keys before jumping into your car and speeding off in the direction of Mark’s house. You call him, fingers fumbling on the screen. He goes to voicemail the first time, and your heart drops. “No, no, no,” you whisper frantically, calling again. He does pick up this time.

“Y/n? It’s the middle of the night.” His voice sounds gruff, and you feel guilty for waking him up. One glance in your rear view mirror reveals that Jaehyun is joining you on this ride, and you scream, car swerving violently to one side before you straighten it out.

“Where are we going, little bird?”

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Mark’s voice has lost its sleepy edge, taking on a concerned tone. He says your name again, more frantic.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Your tires squeal as you make a turn, now only two blocks away. “Can I- can I come over? I really need to be with someone right now.”

“Of course, you know you’re always welcome. The door’s unlocked.”

You hang up, willing the tears in your eyes to not spill over. Finally arriving, you slam on the breaks and haphazardly pull next to a curb, yanking the key out of the ignition and sprinting to Mark’s house.

You lock the door behind you when you step inside, testing the handle as if a door could stop a mirror traveling demon or whatever the fuck Jaehyun was from coming inside. “Mirrors,” you mumble, reaching the stairs.

“Y/n? What’s-” Mark stands at the top of the stairs, one hand rubbing at his eyes. You cut him off, flying up the stairs.

“Mirrors, fuck. Mark, we need to cover the mirrors!” You breeze by his shocked figure, not noticing the way he turns to stare at you incredulously.

“What, why? Y/n, are you crazy?”

Ignoring him, you throw a towel over the mirror in his bathroom, ripping open a pack of bandaids to use as adhesive.

You throw another towel over the mirror in his bedroom, collapsing on his bed when you’re done and finally allowing yourself to sob.

“Y/n, hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Mark, as gentle and caring as ever, comes over to sit next to you, one hand combing through your hair.

“I- don’t laugh at me.” You stare him straight in the eye, pleading with him. You know you’re going to sound crazy, but you’re praying that your best friend listens to you. He nods, urging you to go on.

“That- that man I saw in my dream and during whatever fucked up game Hyuck had us play? He was in my fucking mirror, Mark. I- the whole night, I had this feeling that I was being watched, and then I went into my bathroom and he was just there, and-” You’re hyperventilating at this point, fighting for every breath, tears clouding your vision. “He was in my car, in the rear view mirror-” Mark pulls you closer, enveloping you in his arms and allowing you to sob loudly into his chest. You cry for a few minutes, until you’re finally able to pull yourself together.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’ve had a rough week, I know. It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.”

He wipes a tear away from your check, patting you lightly. “Why don’t you go wash this off, okay? We can watch a movie after.” He offers, and until that point, you’d forgotten you were wearing a face mask. You grimace at the green imprint on his black shirt, but he just chuckles. “I’ll go grab you some water in the meantime.”

Nodding, you garner up the energy to walk to his bathroom. It’s fine, the mirror’s covered, he can’t hurt you. You close the door just in case, wanting an extra level of protection

You rinse your face with cold water, hoping that it will clear your mind. You give your face a couple more splashes before drying off with a towel.

“You missed a spot on your forehead.” You freeze before looking around wildly. There’s no one around, which can only mean that Jaehyun can still see you. Swallowing, you start the water again, rubbing at your forehead.

“And your left cheek.” You rub at the skin, being way too harsh but you excuse it considering your situation. “No, your other left. My left.”

“Jesus,” You growl in annoyance, reaching up to rip the towel down. Sure enough, there’s a splotch of green on your cheek. Jaehyun’s nowhere to be found. Maybe I am losing my mind.

You finish rinsing the mask off, finding some face lotion buried in Mark’s drawer, screaming bloody murder when Jaehyun appears in the mirror again. “Looking for me?”

“No! Leave me alone!” You cry, head spinning. Jaehyun fakes a pout, holding a hand over his heart in mock hurt. Do demons even have hearts?

“Ouch, little bird. You don’t want to finish what we started the other night? When I had you moaning so pretty, so wet for me. I’m sure your pussy would take me so well, hmm?” Your heart rate kicks up again, but for a different reason this time. You almost moan, thinking about the dream.

Because he was right, you had been so wet. The want comes back full forces, slamming into you like a truck. You remember how needy you were, wanting to suck his cock so bad, wanting him to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow. All fear that you previously had is slowly disappearing, fading into lust.

The demon smiles knowingly. “Ah, little bird, so you do remember. Remember how you promised me that you’re mine?”

You nod, eyes glazing over. You’re wet, panties starting to stick to your throbbing core uncomfortably.

“Mmmh, I bet you’re already dripping for me. Just waiting for me to come out and fill you up.”

Hearing your name leave his lips sends a wave of arousal crashing through you so strong that your knees buckle, grabbing onto the counter for support. He chuckles, but whatever he’s about to say is cut off by Mark.

“What were you say-” Your best friend trails off, eyes wide as he observes the scene. You snap out of your haze at the interruption. His mouth parts in shock. “You really weren’t kidding, shit.” He laughs humorlessly.

Then, quick as lightning, he rears back and punches the mirror. You scream in surprise at the crack, shards falling to the floor.

You and Mark both stare at the broken shards of glass on the ground, gleaming under the lights. “Mark,” You start, trailing off once you realize you have nothing to say. He seems to understand, walking forward until he’s close enough to pull you into a hug. You feel tears start to slide down your cheeks, dampening the cotton of your best friends shirt. You hug him closer, burying your face into his broad chest. He wraps himself around you, and you let yourself be lulled into the sense of security that his larger frame brings you. A sense of security that vanishes once you hear a low chuckle that definitely does not belong to Mark.

You both scream, leaping backwards and away from the noise. Jaehyun stands there, just in front of the door, with a shit eating grin on his face. You cower behind Mark, who is wrapping a protective arm around you while simultaneously trying to hide behind you.

“I really must thank you for finally setting me free. Normally I have to wait for some asshole with a ouija board, but then there’s just so many other demons that I have to compete with. So I just stick to the dream world-” He pauses to wink at you for emphasis “-but this is so much more fun.” His eyes are black, and you can’t tell where he’s looking. Swallowing, you clutch onto Mark’s arm for dear life.

The demon seems to regard the two of you for a moment, before his amusement seems to grow. He begins to move forward.

“Ah, Mark Lee. Lovely name for a stupid boy. Didn’t you know breaking a mirror is bad luck?” By this point, you and Mark are flattened against the wall, while Jaehyun stands less than a foot away from the two of you. There’s nowhere to run. This is it, you think, this is how I die.

Jaehyun chuckles, turning to you. You lower your gaze to the ground; it hurts to make eye contact with him. “No, little bird. This isn’t how you die, don’t worry.”

Then he’s backing away from the two of you, motioning to follow him. The logical part of your brain is screaming not to, but you find yourself drawn to him, legs carrying you after him without your consent, Mark clutching your arm tightly as he walks next to you.

Jaehyun seems to know the layout of the house, leading you straight into Mark’s bedroom. The demon grabs a chair from the desk and spins it around, straddling it so that he’s facing the bed.

He motions lazily. “Go on now, have a seat. Get comfortable.”

You find yourself sitting down on the edge of the bed, following his words like marching orders. Mark sits about half a foot away from you. Jaehyun shakes his head. “No, no, no. That won’t do. I said to get comfortable, did I not?” He raises an eyebrow as if daring you to argue with him. “Go lay down at the head board.”

You crawl to the head of the bed, settling so that you’re on your side, facing the demon. Mark follows suit, pulling you close to him so that you’re spooning. Jaehyun lets out a pleased hum. “Much better. Aren’t you much more comfortable now?” Nodding, you realize that you actually are more comfortable. It’s not just the change of position, but the energy in the room as well. The demon is no longer giving off a threatening aura. It’s more relaxed, maybe even happy? He certainly looks more relaxed, probably as happy as a demon can get, if not a little smug.

Your body is pulsing with energy, and it takes you a moment to place what you’re feeling. The earlier need to run that you had felt has been replaced with another need, albeit further down. Your thighs clench as another surge of heat pulses through your core, and your face warms at the realization. Why now, of all times, are you horny?

Jaehyun’s grin broadens as he seems to sense your dilemma. “Oh, little bird, if only you knew. Tell me, what type of demon do you think I am?” He watches you curiously, black eyes staring into your soul.

You try to tilt your head towards Mark, but the position’s too awkward and you only catch a glimpse of the side of his face. He looks a bit flushed from what you can see, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip, teeth that you could easily replace with your own- you blink, dazedly. What the fuck? Sexual thoughts about your best friend? That’s a new one. Even if you’ve noticed that he’s hot, you’d never thought about him sexually. Now, though, you can feel the hardness of his dick against your ass, and you can’t help but think about how good he could fuck you.

“Incubus,” You finally manage, blinking rapidly to clear the haze of your vision. Jaehyun grins, looking genuinely surprised that you’d gotten it right.

“Good girl. Make a little sense now?” You nod, fighting a moan as Mark starts to rock against you, slowly, as if he’s unconsciously doing it. Jaehyun notices.

“How about you, Mark? You doing alright over there?”

Your friend, your best friend, buries his face in your neck and groans, deep and delicious. It sends another surge of heat through your body, the growing need between your legs pulsing pathetically. “What are you doing to us?” The words are growled behind you, vibrating against the skin where his lips are pressed.

“Oh no, Mark, I’m not doing anything to you. The only thing I can do to you is make you realize your desires. Your deepest, darkest fantasies? I make that happen. Finally being able to fuck the girl you’ve been in love with for years? I make that happen.” The words take a minute to register with you, but you stiffen when the meaning hits you. Mark Lee, in love with you? An unlikely story, bordering impossible.

The demon chuckles at your inner turmoil, rolling his eyes at how dumb humans can be. “You too, y/n. You love Mark, even if you won’t admit it. You let the idea that he was too good for you scare you away from him. Do you not remember how often you thought of him, late at night after first meeting him?”

You groan in protest, not because it’s not true, but because you do remember. It had been so long ago. When you hadn’t known Mark, had only known of him. You pull away from Mark, awkwardly pushing him to lay flat against the pillows while you clamber on top of him.

“Mark, is it true? Do you love me?” You hold his face between your hands, staring into his eyes. He meets your gaze, pupils blown and eyes half lidded. He nods as best he can.

“So, so much.” Mark’s voice comes out raspy, matching his flushed skin. You lean down to kiss him, uncaring of the other presence in the room. Mark moans when your lips make contact, hands pulling you to straddle him. Your eyelids flutter at the feeling of his clothed cock against your center, rocking your hips to try to ease the throb of your core. His hands fly to your ass, pulling and kneading at the flesh as he urges you into a harsher pace.

The kiss is rougher, needier now, open mouthed and panting. Mark’s got his tongue tangled with yours, sucking in such a way that sends waves of heat through you. You want him in you, any part of him really.

Jaehyun seems to agree, speaking up from right next to you. You jump, having forgotten he was there although he’s the reason you’re like this in the first place.

“Let’s get the show on the road. As much as I’m enjoying this, I think we’d all enjoy something else a little more.” The demon reaches for the hem of your shirt and you nod, raising your arms above your head to let him pull the garment off. Mark groans at the newly revealed skin, hands going to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra. “Fuck,” He whines, staring in awe at your chest. He doesn’t waste time before leaning up to kiss along your cleavage, pulling the bra down to expose your breasts. Another set of hands unclasp the bra before traveling down your torso to rub circles into your hip bones, sliding your sleeping shorts and panties off at the same time. Jaehyun throws the shorts somewhere off the bed. He keeps the panties, a pleased sigh leaving him as he appreciates the ruined fabric.

“Fuck, little bird. You’re really enjoying this,” He comments, as if he isn’t a fucking lust demon that can sense these kinds of things. You don’t voice your thoughts, because Mark chooses this moment to suck a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin so that all you can do is moan. “You’ve even ruined your panties. They’re soaked.”

He hands the strip of lace to Mark, who lets out a throaty groan at the sight. “You’re not getting these back.” He informs you, slipping the garment into his bedside drawer. You ignore him, instead tugging insistently at his shirt. He takes pity on you, grabbing the collar and yanking the baggy tee over his head.

You let your hands slide down his chest in admiration, feeling the hard lines of his muscles. You lick your lips at how broad his shoulders are, how strong he looks. Jaehyun doesn’t give you much time to enjoy the view, gliding two fingers along your slit before circling around your little nub. A cry of pleasure leaves you to mindlessly press your face into Mark’s collarbone, nipping and sucking the flesh until you’re sure you’ve left a bruise.

Jaehyun slips the two fingers into your aching core, curling and dragging them so well along your walls. Sparks of electricity flow through your veins, heat pooling in your center.

Mark groans from below you. Looking down, you see that you’ve unconsciously dug your nails into his hard chest in an effort to ground yourself. You remove your hands, only to spot little red half crescents littered over his skin. You rub your palms over the marks as if to soothe them, but it seems that the man wasn’t groaning from pain.

“Y/n” He sounds so fucked out, voice hoarse and raw even though hardly anything has happened yet. “You look so good like this, so perfect for me.” He brings one large hand up to cup your cheek, thumb delicately stroking over your cheekbone before moving down to trace your lower lip. You part your lips, letting him slide in before sucking around the digit, tongue curling around it as if it were his cock. His eyes darken a fraction, tongue coming out to wet his lips, swollen and kiss bitten.

You moan around the digit as Jaehyun adds a third finger, stretching your walls so pleasantly that you can’t help but buck your hips back for more. A whine forces its way out of your throat as the demon pulls his fingers out of you, leaving an empty ache between your thighs.

“Don’t you think it would be more fun if she was sucking on something a bit bigger than your finger, Mark?” The voice startles you, breath tickling your ear as he speaks. The man under you nods, swallowing thickly. Your eyes are drawn to the way his Adam’s apple bobs with the movement, and a gush of wetness pulses down below. Your thighs are probably covered in your arousal at this point.

You scoot down his body, trailing kisses and bites down his toned stomach. You take your time unzipping his pants, sucking a mark into the soft skin below his navel. He’s hard as a rock, and you moan in appreciation at the sheer size of him once you shimmy his jeans down his thighs.

“No underwear?” You ask, mouth curling up in a teasing smirk. He huffs out a laugh, propping himself up on his elbows so that he can watch. “No, ‘s too restricting.”

You lazily pump his dick, thumb flicking over the tip once or twice. You plan to tease him more, but then Jaehyun’s pushing your head down and you have no choice but to open your mouth wide, innocent eyes peeking up at Mark as you take his cock in your mouth. He’s so big that you can’t take him in all the way, keeping one hand curled around his cock to stroke what your mouth can’t reach. You let it get sloppy, using your spit to ease the glide until you’ve got a pleasant rhythm going. Mark replaces Jaehyun’s hands with his own, gathering strands of your hair in his palms and using that grip to control your pace. “F-fuck,” He lets out a shaky exhale, letting his head fall back against the pillows once he’s satisfied with the pace.

Jaehyun slaps your ass, a loud smack sounding throughout the room. You moan, pitching forward onto Mark’s cock and gagging as he hits the back of your throat. A strangled cry leaves the man above you, his hips thrusting even further into the tight, wet heat of your mouth.

The demon kneads your stinging flesh before using his grip on you to pull your hips up. “Good girl,” You keen under his praises, sticking your ass up even higher. The warm, wet pressure against your center has you faltering, moaning almost violently around Mark’s cock. He doesn’t seem to be having any complaints, the vibrations forcing a moan of his own out.

Your eyes roll up into your head as Jaehyun wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. You’re sure you’d be screaming by now if Mark’s cock wasn’t halfway down your throat. You’ve given up sucking him off by this point, content to let the man fuck your mouth while Jaehyun sucks your fucking soul out from between your legs. It feels so good, not used to being the center of even one man’s focus, let alone two.

Mark eases you off of his cock after you accidentally bite him, using your spit to ease the slide as he lazily fucks up into his loose fist. You rest your head on his thigh, alternating between moaning wantonly and mouthing messily against the skin as you feel your orgasm approach.

Jaehyun pulls away at the last second, and you whine loudly as your orgasm is cut off. The feeling of frustration leaves you close to tears, and you jiggle your ass in hopes that it will regain his attention. It does momentarily, as Jaehyun lands a harsh smack on the flesh, but he pulls away again.

“Mark,” The man in question looks up, hand freezing on his dick as if waiting for Jaehyun’s orders. And fuck, what a sight that would be: your normally brash and confident friend being so pliant and submissive to a near stranger… You blink out of it, feeling mildly ashamed even in your current state. Luckily, Jaehyun interrupts your thoughts. “I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll let you go first. You’ve been waiting long enough for this, anyway.”

Mark nods eagerly, pulling you into a desperate kiss. You paw at every inch of skin you can reach, searching for a release from the ache inside of you. Your wish is granted when he hooks two fingers in your soaking cunt, groaning at how wet you are. He scissors you open quickly, hissing at how tight you feel.

“Ready, angel? Want my cock?” The pet name has you moaning, though it draws a low chuckle from Jaehyun, who’s watching from his position next to Mark.

“Hurry up, already. Need you in me, ‘ve waited so long.”

Mark lights up at this, smile stretching his features. He looks so breathtaking in this moment, skin glowing and flushed, hair mussed up, eyes blown wide and half lidded.

“I’m yours,” He breathes, leaning up for one last kiss. His hands slide down to your hips, pulling you forward so that you’re hovering above his thick cock. “Ride me baby.”

“I’d love to.” Reaching one hand down to position him at your entrance, you start to lower yourself down. Of course, Jaehyun chooses this exact moment to stop you. He truly is the spawn of Satan.

“Little bird, hold on just a second. I found something of interest in the back of Markie’s brain.” You cringe as he mocks your earlier nickname for the man. “What’s this I’m seeing, Mark? You like it up the ass?” His tone is teasing, but Mark groans in embarrassment. His face has gone an alarming shade of red by this point. “N-no,” He tries to deny, sputtering excuses but Jaehyun cuts him off with a press of a finger to his lips. “Oh, Mark, don’t get shy on me now. It’s a perfectly fine thing to like. Little bird, you’ll get your turn in a minute. You,” He snaps his fingers at Mark. “Come here. Kneel up, just like that. Perfect.” He appraises Mark’s ass for a moment, hands moulding the flesh before slipping a finger in. Mark’s eyebrows furrow, and you shoot up in alarm. “Doesn’t he need lube?”

Jaehyun looks at you, surprised that you care, before chuckling. “I can produce lube. Perks of being a lust demon.” Winking at you, he returns his focus to Mark. You can’t see what he’s doing, but the pure pleasure present on your best friends face has you clenching your thighs together, waves of need crashing through you. If you thought he looked good before, he looks absolutely gone now. Breathless groans are leaving him now, eyelids fighting to stay open as he sinks down on the others fingers. You watch him, mesmerized, before shuffling over to him.

“How close are you?”

He forces his gaze down to you. “Kind of- nngh- close, w-why?” 

Wrapping a hand around his base lightly, you start stroking. “Will you come if I blow you?”

He moans, a punched out sound that takes you by surprise. “Fuck, yes, I’ll definitely come if you blow me.” You pout in disappointment. Upon seeing your crestfallen expression, he continues. “Maybe we c-can- oh, yes- figure something out. Jaehyun,” He turns his head back behind him, struggling to get the words out between moans. “Can I eat y/n out?”

There’s just something so hot about Mark asking for permission from someone else that you can’t help the whimper that escapes you. Jaehyun must nod, because then you’re being laid back, Mark settling between your thighs. He’s sucking sweet kisses into your core almost immediately, pulling your legs over his shoulders to give him better access. You’re letting out sharp cries of pleasure the whole time, eyes fighting the urge to roll back in your head in favor of watching Mark between your legs. A particularly well placed flick of his tongue has your hips rolling against his face, grasping the sheets in your hand as your mind blanks. The pleasure climbing through your system is insane, threatening to burn you from the inside out.

It only gets better once Mark starts moaning, his sinful mouth sending sweet vibrations traveling up your core. You manage to catch sight of Jaehyun behind him, kissing wetly along his shoulders and neck, features curving into a smirk once he notices you watching him.

“Little bird likes this, hmm? Like watching another man pleasure your boyfriend while he pleases you?” You hum, unable to tear yourself away from his gaze, unable to even think, letting his boyfriend comment slide. Whereas before it hurt to look directly into his eyes, you now find yourself getting lost in his dark orbs. It’s like a drug, your pleasure being amplified by the man, demon, whatever in front of you.

You finally break eye contact, head falling back against the mattress as Mark draws you closer and closer to your peak. Burying one hand in his hair, you use the leverage to grind your core against his face, chasing your sweet release. “C-close, Mark, please-” You don’t know what you’re begging for at this point. It’s too much but not enough at the same time. Jaehyun saves you from having to decide by cruelly ripping your orgasm away from you, again, dragging Mark’s face away from your pussy.

A few tears slip down your face at this point, frustration reaching its peak. Jaehyun wipes the tears away, laughing lowly. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what you desire soon.”

He must pull out of Mark, because your friend whimpers before seeming to realize what he just did and clears his throat uncomfortably.

“Mark, would you like to fuck our little bird now?” Mark nods, tongue flicking out to wet dry lips.

Jaehyun smirks. “Good. On your back. Y/n, ride him.” You don’t have to be told twice. You scramble onto your knees, wasting no time in straddling Mark before dropping yourself down on him. You both moan in satisfaction, you at finally being filled and Mark at your tightness. You have to brace both hands on his chest, almost collapsing at the overwhelming relief you feel. Beyond the burn of the stretch, his cock filling you up so nicely, there’s a sweet pleasure, a satisfaction.

You don’t wait very long to adjust, grinding your hips in smooth circles before lifting yourself off of him and dropping yourself back down. You quickly start a rhythm of you bouncing on his cock, eyes rolling at how fucking big he feels in you.

Mark’s hands are locked in a vice grip on your ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh and using his grip to urge you into a faster pace.

Jaehyun decides to join, coming up behind you to kiss at your neck, one hand reaching up to your mouth. “Suck,” He commands, slipping two fingers past your willing lips. You do, hollowing your cheeks and slurping around the digits, wishing that it was his dick. He hums behind you, bringing the wet digits down to your entrance, finding your clit with ease and rubbing fast circles into the little nub. You moan even louder now, feeling yourself speed towards your climax. You’ve been on edge for too long, you can’t hold on anymore.

“You close, little bird? Going to come on Mark’s cock? Gonna make him fill you up, pound into that dirty cunt?” His words get to you, your head falling back against his shoulder once more.

“Yes, yes! Oh, please, please-” He cuts off your mindless rambling by pulling you in for a kiss, one that you melt into. This is the first time he’s kissed you, and you’re quite upset that you hadn’t kissed him earlier. It’s a hot kiss, lots of tongue and teeth. It heightens your pleasure immensely, and you can’t stop kissing him. You suck on his tongue filthily, and oh, he must like that if the resulting groan is anything to go by. Even when he goes to pull away, you won’t let him, one hand fisting in his hair to keep him close. He seems to be speeding up your release, if that were even possible. Your mind feels hazier now, every sensation heightened, core screaming for release. You feel your orgasm twisting painfully at your insides, pulsing before finally exploding. The intensity of it rips a scream out of your throat, nails scratching across Mark’s chest as Jaehyun licks even deeper into your mouth, drinking up the noises you make.

When you come down, Mark is still thrusting desperately up into you, though he stops at the demons command. “From behind,” You hear Jaehyun say, but everything’s hazy at this point. Your mind is still fuzzy from your orgasm, and it’s like watching through a screen. Like you’re high, though you hadn’t had anything the whole day.

Mark manhandles you into position, hands and knees with your ass raised high in the air. He leaves one gentle kiss on your shoulder blade before relentlessly pounding into you, cock hitting even deeper in this position. Jaehyun kneels in front of you, pulling your face in towards his cock. You moan around him as he slips inside, mouth not quite burning at the stretch like Mark, though the demon still has you gagging. His cock has the same effect on you as his kisses did, and you feel addicted. You’re slurping and sucking and moaning around him, not wanting the intense pleasure to stop. You barely hear the kissing above you, taking far too long to register that Jaehyun has pulled Mark into a messy kiss above you. The image has you moaning even more wantonly, ass pushing back against Mark.

The kiss seems to have a similar effect on the man, because then he’s slamming into you at an even more relentless rate, moans higher and more frequent before he’s coming with a shout, finally filling you up. Your core pulses again at the feeling, and you suck at Jaehyun’s dick with renewed vigor. His hands fist in your hair, keeping you still so that he can fuck your mouth as hard as he wants. You relish in the feeling of your throat being fucked raw, spit dripping out of your mouth and down his cock. He lets out a deep groan, hips slamming deep one last time as he finishes. His cum seems to ignite a fire within you, because you’re coming almost simultaneously with him, despite not even being touched.

You collapse afterwards, dragging yourself to Mark and letting him drape himself over you. You let yourself drift off to sleep, sated and still riding the high.

The demon kisses each of you one last time, drinking in the last remaining parts of your soul, watching as the two humans take their last breaths. “Thanks for the meal, lovelies.” He chuckles, petting your head almost affectionately before walking out into the night sky, not sparing a single glance back.

[notnctu]

haechan: the cocky | vol 1

━ welcome home to housemating smut series :) 

☆ click the link above to read background info about this housemate!

☆ GENRE: smut, pwp ☆ DETAILS: fem!reader, college!au, housemate!au ☆ WARNINGS: oral, voyeurism, explicit language ☆ WC: 2,659 ☆ SYNOPSIS: on this sunny afternoon, you’re home alone while everyone else is in class... or so you thought. as haechan’s name spills from your lustful mouth, he mindlessly comes in thinking that you’re calling for him. instead, he walks in to see you fingers deep and in need of some assistance, again.

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: happy halloween everyone!! pls read the background info before proceeding with the fic!! absolutely pwp, there is no real plot here besides smut LOL and yes there will be a part two ! maybe multiple parts idk yet lol depends on my story building 

Tossing your backpack into the corner of your room, you pounce on your bed as quickly as possible. There was something about Haechan’s outfit choice today: baggy relaxed pants and an oversized plain white tshirt that only he could pull off. Something about his cool, carefree attitude riles up an inexplicable part of you. And though you didn’t have much time to drool over his incredibly impressive outfit before dashing for your 10 AM, it is all that’s been running through your head.

And truthfully if you had been caught staring for even a millisecond, you wouldn’t hear the end of it from him. You’ve seen this guy go two days straight sitting in his boxers and wrinkled old tee as he yells profanities at his computer monitor. Yet, in some egotistical world, Haechan still manages to be the cockiest person in the whole house.

Haechan has pulled quite a fair share of girls, but nothing in comparison to Jaehyun or Johnny. The reason behind his sly smirks and obvious traveling eyes could possibly be that he’s pulled you, quite a number of times.

Haechan never really peaked your interest until he became the one you spent the most time alone with. He is not the type to boast about his sexual encounters, so you really had to squeeze it out of him. Long talks of his cunnilingus tactics had you wet by the end of it all, not expecting that this gamer boy had such an eager passion for seeing girls squirm from his tongue.

Eager and strong enough passion to ask if he could get a taste of you, then proceeded to bring up all the moments that he has passed by your room to see you sprawled across your bed naked and rubbing one out. You had a poor habit of not closing your door all the way.

However strangely enough, you didn’t feel embarrassed that Haechan was the one who saw you. In fact, if anyone in the house did catch you masturbating, you’d hope it was him. Your relationship is comfortable to the point of seeing the worst sides of each other, you could be your true self around him because he wasn’t some playboy to impress. He is and always will be, Lee Haechan, the boy that sucks at arm wrestling.

So as you check your housemates’ locations and thinking that the coast is clear, you begin to peel off your bottoms and panties. Every naughty thought of Haechan rolls into your lustful mind. Tugging at his fluffy hair. His plushy tongue against your clit. His light spanks against your ass. His needy hands gripping your thighs. His low throaty moans.

You get into your favorite position --- ass up, on your knees and legs spread open, with your face buried in a pillow. Your hand tries to mimic his touch: gently teasing your nipples, trailing down your stomach until you reach your sensitive bud. Your fingers gather your slick and automatically, Haechan’s name escapes your lips. Closing your eyes, you recall all the times he’s eaten you out until you’ve seen stars.

Now if Haechan wasn’t so forgetful, he wouldn’t have to drive all the way back home to grab his notebook for lecture. When the boy enters the house, he takes note of your scattered shoes at the door and the faint sound of your voice. Curiously, he walks up the stairs to the rooms and hears you calling for him and concludes that you probably heard him come home.

When he approaches your slightly opened door, he sees an image that immediately halts him in his tracks. Through the rather large slit, he has the clearest view of your dripping pussy and quick fingers rubbing at your clit. And he registers your calls for moans. You were moaning his name, not calling for him.

He glances around at the other open rooms to check if anyone else is home, but that is probably why you thought it would be completely fine to not close your door, again. When he returns to the incredibly sexy scene of you masturbating to the thought of him, you’re so lost in your own pleasure that you don’t even hear his heavy breathing.

A tent forms in his pants as he feels all his blood rushing to his shaft. He’s beyond turned on, like come on, it’s him you’re thinking about. This does nothing, but fuel his already large ego. Haechan enters your room and clears his throat, “you should really learn to close your door, baby.” 

Your momentum breaks at the sheer fear of someone else’s voice. Panic settles and the first thing you see when you look up is Haechan’s small smirk. He leans against the frame of your door, arms crossed and eyes never leaving your figure.

“Why are you home?!” You throw a pillow at him, very well annoyed at his presence and for ruining your private time. Sitting up on your knees, you try covering your lower half with your blanket. Haechan is quick to stop you, while simultaneously shutting your bedroom door.

“I forgot my notebook.” He leans in, lips inches away from yours and his hand pulling the sheets off your body. “I have twenty minutes to spare, so let’s make this quick, mmh? Seems like you’re in need of my assistance... again.” His eyes are dark, and the sunlight that seeps through your shades shines so beautifully against his melanin. The faint smell of his cologne messes with your mind and god, you want him so bad and you hate that he can tell.

“Get back into your previous position and show me how you touch yourself.” He leaves a quick peck on the corners of your lips before standing at the end of your bed. 

“What if I don’t want to?” You’re not usually bratty with other partners, but Haechan’s assertiveness and overall aura draws it out of you so naturally. 

He pokes his tongue at the inside of his mouth, protruding his cheek and tilts his head at your bratty attitude. Staring you down with hungry eyes and a raised eyebrow, he says in a serious tone, “no time for games right now. You want me or not?” 

“Yes, please.” You nod with urgency once you realize that Haechan still had class to get to. Turning back around, you rest comfortably on your elbows with your knees firm on the mattress. Your hand travels down to circle your clit again, resuming your previous lustful actions before Haechan interrupted you.

Every jolt runs down your legs as a pumping surge of electricity, all the way down to your toes. Haechan palms himself watching you get back into the mood, biting his bottom lip at the delicious sight of your glistening, pretty pussy on display for him. It doesn’t take much before he hurries to get under you and in between your legs.

He lays back flat on the bed as you hover over him, your hand still rubbing intensively at your bud and your juices collecting in your palm. Taking your wrist, he guides your wet fingers into his mouth. You moan knowing your fingers are being cleaned by Haechan, him sucking your taste off of you. 

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He groans, bringing your hips closer to his face. Without another second of hesitation, he licks a long strip across your clit. 

“Hyuck..” It has been established between the two of you that you have special rights to use his government name. He loves how hot it sounds coming from you, like it is meant to be spoken only by you. “..I’m.. already.. going to burst.”

He kisses your inner thighs, then encapsulates your bud in his mouth. Your legs give out at the mind blowing pleasure that comes with Haechan’s plushy licks. His tongue doesn’t leave your clit for more than a second, suckling and rubbing it like his life depended on it. 

When you peer down at him, his face is entirely pressed up against your body: nose digging into your skin and mouth latching on for a taste. He gives your ass a little spank, then grabbing a handful to squeeze. The tinge of pain turns into pleasure as the feeling of static runs throughout your lower half. 

Haechan tries to free himself from his pants, growing painfully hard that it began to feel strained. One hand unzips and tugs down hastily at his bottoms, his cock springing up and slapping against his stomach. He lifts his shirt up as far as it can go, not once breaking his attention on making you feel good.

You yelp when his two fingers enter your hole abruptly, gathering enough of your slick to cover his own dick. With your wetness, he strokes his tip with his thumb and the vibrations from his moans sends shivers down your spine. But Haechan is more than skilled at multitasking, jerking himself off while he eats you out.

“Fuck, are you touching yourself?” Your head turns enough to see movement in your peripheral vision. You can infer two things: Haechan is half naked and fucking his hand so fast that it shakes the bed a bit.

“Of course I am. You’re fucking hot, baby.” He only pulls away briefly to speak, his soft tongue flicking rapidly harder against you now. Haechan knows you’re close, without you needing to say much. Your toes curl at the intensity, your moans become louder, and you’re gripping onto his hair as tightly as possible.

The peak of your mountain is at the tip of your lips, your legs are about to give out at any moment, but Haechan is showing no mercy to slow down. “Just like that, shit.” Your hips mindlessly grind with his fast-paced rhythm.

Haechan can feel his own release coming just as quick, his own grip growing tighter around his shaft as his hips have no caution to stop. “Give it to me, (Y/N).” His low grunts solely push you to your edge, as you announce your orgasm. 

Your shaking legs uncontrollably twitch around his head as the euphoric feeling fills your blood stream. Like a knot coming undone, it’s the most rewarding feeling you’ve ever felt. You try to catch your breath as Haechan unlatches from your swollen clit, and his moans replace yours. 

“(Y/N),” He barely manages to speak and you look down in between your legs to see him biting his bottom lip hard and eyes closed. “--I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk... when I get back..” and with that, he cums all over his lower stomach, short strings of white landing across his body.

You roll off of him, grabbing tissues from your nightstand to clean him up. “Are you still going to make it?” A hoarse laugh rumbles your chest as Haechan remembers the lecture he has to attend.

“I’ll just show up late.” Wiping the last bit off of him, he gets up to hurriedly zip himself up. “Why are you suddenly so needy?” He jokes, partially. A smug grin appears reminding you of his haughty personality. 

You scoff at his remark, “I am more than capable of taking care of myself.” 

“Yeah, but why do that when I clearly give you the best orgasms of your life.” He shrugs, his tone being quite matter of fact. He chuckles mischievously at your displeased expression, running out your room before you can chase him out.

“Okay, I’m leaving!” He yells from the hall, hurrying down the stairs to catch the last half of his lecture. 

“Bye, thank you... I guess..” You pull your panties up, your voice trailing off when you step out of your room to the top of the stairs to watch him leave.

He stops to peer up at your obvious fucked out appearance, admiring you all in your glory. “Any time, baby. What are housemates for?” Haechan winks flirtatiously before he shuts the front door.

The rhetorical question repeats in your head, what are housemates for? 

As everyone floods back home later in the day, you and Haechan act as if nothing happened. That’s the thing about you two, Haechan never really feels the need to brag to the others, only if provoked. 

You two can live in this house with the other three not expecting a single thing, not knowing that there is courage behind Haechan’s bold statements. Not even the way Haechan stares at you sometimes can give anything away. This man is too slick, too quick on his feet to ever be caught.

“You make it to all your classes today, Haechan?” Johnny asks as the three of you devour the dinner Doyoung made, Jaemin once again not being home. 

“Yes, dad.” Haechan answers sarcastically and stuffs his mouth full of dinner rolls. “I had a midterm that I totally aced.” He smiles proudly, but your ears catch onto the first half of his sentence and immediate guilt settles.

“You had a midterm?” The tone of your question raises a few eyebrows at the table, the rest of the boys wondering why you sounded so worried.

Nevertheless, Haechan doesn’t lose his cool. He simply bids you his sugary sweet smile and says, “not for that one.” 

“No flirty eyes at the table.” Doyoung scowls as Haechan’s corner lip twitches into another infamous smirk. He somewhat enjoys the thrill of almost getting caught, you make it all too easy for the others to find out.

You gulp your food harshly and shy away from Haechan’s dark gaze, not knowing the right words to recover your slip up. Jaehyun acknowledges the confusion in the room, laughing nervously at your sudden bashfulness, “why did (Y/N) sound so worried?” 

Your food gets stuck in your throat, waiting to hear what Haechan has to say to your nosy housemates. “I had to come home to grab my notebook and missed the beginning of class. She’s just looking out for me, it’s cute.” 

And your eyes make the most dramatic roll, “I should’ve just let you to suffer the consequences.” 

“But you’re a good girl.” Haechan barely lets you finish, his sharp-witted tongue almost cutting you off.

“(Y/N) is the best girl.” Johnny ruffles your hair and picks up your chin, being oblivious to the sexual tension between you and Haechan. “Now, did my best girl go to all her classes today?” 

You push his large hand off of you, grumbling lowly, “yes, Johnny.” Mindful to not say dad as it would steer him with too much satisfaction, “unlike you delinquents, I actually go to class and stay for the whole thing.”

“I do too.” Doyoung bickers.

In response, you pinch his cheek harshly. “I know and I’m always proud of you, my bunny.” 

Haechan clears his throat obnoxiously, “I’m going to play games, hop on when you all are done.” He takes a few more dinner rolls as he starts heading up the stairs with his plate of food.

“Can’t, I have someone coming over in a few.” Jaehyun stuffs his cheeks full of deliciousness.

“Me too.” Johnny chimes and you’re repulsed that more than half of the house is going to be having sex at the same time. 

“In that case, that is my cue to leave and put on noise canceling headphones.” Doyoung gathers his plate to rush out of the scene. 

Jaehyun and Johnny finish their dinners at an impressive speed, “don’t be too loud, Haechan!” Johnny loudly proclaims and though you can’t see Haechan’s face, you can imagine his devilish smile through the cadence of his voice.

“Oh, trust me. I won’t be the loud one tonight.” Your phone lights up from incoming texts. As your eyes register the messages, you almost choke on your food at the implications. 

housemate haechan: come to my room when you’re done

housemate haechan: and don’t expect to walk tomorrow:) 

And you’re finishing your dinner as fast as everyone else is, shamefully excited to make your way upstairs. 

What are housemates for?

[seijorhi]

Acts of Devotion

👀 i um 👉 👈 i hope this is okay...

Akaashi Keiji x Female Reader

TW blood, gore, violence, murder, dub con, nsfw

Akaashi loves you.

He’s known that for a long time now, probably from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, back when you were both just wide eyed first year uni students, wildly out of your depths.

A lot’s changed since then. For one, he now gets to call you his, and it’s his arms that you return to at the end of a long day, his house that you both live in. It’d be a lie to say that it doesn’t bother him that he wasn’t your first love, but he’s contented himself with the knowledge that he’ll be your last. Your only great love.

The only one that matters.

But it hasn’t been without its challenges. He’s learned a lot about love since those early days, about what it means to truly devote yourself to somebody, to give everything you have for them.

Love essentially boils down to two things, Akaashi’s come to realise - sacrifice, and forgiveness. 

You always look so beautiful when you’re sleeping. Of course, Akaashi thinks you’re beautiful all the time; when you’re smiling and laughing, when your face is screwed up in petulant anger, when those pretty eyes of yours well with tears and they glimmer and shine - but there’s something about the peaceful expression, so soft and unguarded when you’re asleep that inexplicably draws him in. 

There’s a part of him that wants nothing more than to stay, to reach out and brush away the hair that’s fallen across your face, pull you closer and let sleep drag him under, but he can’t. 

Not tonight.

Instead he cranes his neck to press a kiss against your lips, a small smile tugging at his lips when you let out a quiet mewl in response. He loves you so, so much… that’s why he has to do this.

He’d forgive you anything. You know that, don’t you?

Sure, it hurt him when he found the messages. Scrolling back through your text history, it was like somebody had grabbed him by the throat and plunged a knife into his gut, twisting it for good measure.

Kaito i don’t know what to do

i love him but lately it feels like idk he’s being a little controlling i guess? 

… but maybe i’m just being paranoid?

He knows it’s not entirely your fault. For all the amazing qualities you possess, you are remarkably naive and so very, very impressionable - which worked to his favour in the beginning, he’ll be the first to admit, but now…

Now it’s becoming a problem.

You haven’t realised yet that everything Akaashi’s doing - it’s all for your own good. 

Your family wanted you under their thumb. They always asked too much of you, guilt tripped you whenever you tried to stand up for yourself or set boundaries. They’d never be happy for you, not truly. It hurts, he knows that, but some people don’t deserve to be in your life, especially when they treat you like that. 

Your job was causing you stress, and your boss was an arrogant, nasty piece of work. His salary is more than enough to support you both, why put yourself through that if you don’t need to? Aren’t you happier now that you don’t have to trudge into that office every day and pretend that it isn’t making you miserable?

Your friends were bad influences. Jealous of your relationship for one, but they were also petty, self absorbed and vapid, always trying to drag you down to their level so you wouldn’t ever outshine them. You’re better off without them, why can’t you see that?

Akaashi’s the only one you’ll ever need.

And he really thought that he’d solved that little problem, but apparently not. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that out of all of them, Kaito’s the one who’s been the hardest to shake. An old friend of yours from high school, Akaashi had known within five minutes of meeting him that he was head over heels in love with you and had been for a long, long time. 

He can’t blame him for that. You’re beautiful. Perfect. Entirely his. It’s painfully obvious that even before he came into the picture to sweep you off your feet, you’d never so much as looked twice at the guy. So Akaashi was more or less content to let his somewhat pitiful one sided crush on you slide. Considering that he had absolutely no intentions of letting him or any of your other friends remain part of your life for much longer, it was hardly worth wasting energy thinking about.

Until, that is, he read the messages that Kaito’s been sending you.

Leave him

I’m serious. 

My sister had a friend who was with a guy like that. She had to get a restraining order because he wouldn’t let her go - it got scary… You can come stay with me. I don’t want you getting hurt :(

It’s that last one that bothers him. Not the attempts to lure you away from him under the guise of being a safe haven from your ‘dangerous’ boyfriend, painting himself as your knight in shining armour - mildly irritating if not a little amusing - but for putting the idea in your head that Akaashi would ever hurt you.

That he can’t forgive.

He won’t have you look at him with fear in your eyes. 

Akaashi’s never tried to deny that side of himself, but he’s kept it from you, locked it away and buried it deep. The things he does… you’re too pure for that. He loves you, loves the way that your eyes still soften when you catch sight of him, the warm, trusting naivety that bleeds out of your every pore. If you knew what the hands that caressed you so gently had done, would you still beg for his touch?

You wouldn’t, he knows that just as he knows that even if you were to uncover the truth, he wouldn’t let you go. He can’t, you’re his.

Is it really so selfish of him to want to preserve that innocent naivety? 

But it seems like now he’ll have to indulge once again, and Akaashi, really, truly can’t say that it bothers him. Killing other people has always thrilled him, made the blood in his veins race… Killing other people for you, oh, that’s going to be a whole other level of pleasure he can’t wait to explore. 

The pads of his fingers trace the curve of your jaw for just a moment. “Back soon,” he whispers, gracing your cheek with a feather light kiss.

You’ve never asked why the door to the basement locks from both sides, he doesn’t even think you realise that the walls are soundproofed. Tonight he’s grateful. You won’t wake up, he’s almost positive of that, but Akaashi has no desire to be gone from your side for any longer than absolutely necessary.

He usually prefers to take his time. 

His first kill was more of an accident than anything else, there was too much blood, he panicked and it was over in the blink of an eye. There wasn’t time to savour it, to really enjoy the sight of the light leaving their eyes, the weak, desperate struggles and whimpers, the tantalising fear that inevitably bleeds into the air, growing more potent by the second - even the strongest break eventually. He’s learned since then how to draw it out, how to have fun with his work.

But he doesn’t have that luxury tonight, and, as he keeps having to remind himself, this isn’t about his pleasure.

Guns are quick. Messy. Akaashi’s never really taken a liking to the crude, graceless weapon. He prefers his knives. 

Waving a gun in somebody’s face gives them the idea that they’re going to die, and there are only so many times that you can shoot somebody before they just… bleed out. It’s not nearly as satisfying a death. A knife, on the other hand, brings with it more opportunities. It isn’t death that his victim becomes worried about, at least not initially, but pain. And as his hand glides over his collection, Akaashi decides that Kaito is due for a little pain.

I love him, you’d texted. I love him. I love him. I love him.

That’s what he’s trying to protect. 

Long, pale fingers wrap around the handle of his chef’s knife, (eight inches, sharp - a familiar, comforting weight in his hand) and he takes a deep, steadying breath.

Kaito’s mouth is taped shut. Akaashi doesn’t want to hear a filthy word out of those lips. His hands are bound behind his back, his ankles tied to the old, wooden chair. He’s good with his knots, the more Kaito struggles, the tighter they pull. And judging from the ugly, purpling shade of his hands and the tears leaking from bloodshot eyes, he’s been struggling for a while.

Good.

Akaashi smiles as he strolls towards his captive audience, fingering the straight edge of the knife. Kaito doesn’t try to speak, but the muffled whines and sobs grow louder with every step closed between them. The fear and tension in the air is palpable. 

His breath is little more than a frantic wheezing by the time Akaashi stops in front of him and drops into a crouch. Cool, gunmetal blue eyes meet Kaito’s deep brown ones, blown wide with terror.

“I’m not the monster you think I am,” he admits quietly. 

Looking up at him from beneath long, dark lashes, a faint smile on his lips, Akaashi could almost pass for an angel if not for the gleaming kitchen knife in his hand. Kaito pales, his entire body going taut as his gaze slides from Akaashi’s face to the gleaming blade in his hand. He shakes his head in desperation, another muffled scream escaping his gag-

Akaashi strikes fast, like a viper. The blade plunges into the meat of Kaito’s thigh and without an ounce of mercy, Akaashi yanks it back towards his knee.

The scream that rips through the air sends a pleasurable shiver of warmth down his spine, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he feels the muscles beneath him convulse. The gash isn’t too long, maybe a few inches, but it’s deep and Akaashi’s smirk only grows as warm blood gushes from the wound, coating his hand in slick vermilion. 

He tugs the knife free, rewarded with another choked howl from his captive as more blood sprays. Bound to the chair, there’s not a whole lot of room for Kaito to move, but it’s somewhat amusing to watch him try to thrash, escape the white hot agony radiating from his thigh through his entire body. It’s hard for the human body to comprehend that level of pain, and from experience, Akaashi’s well aware that it won’t take long for his body to go into shock and simply shut down from the blood loss, and once that happens, he won’t be of much use to anyone. 

Kaito’s trembling, face pale, his skin clammy. Impossibly black pupils swallow his irises whole, erratically tracking his captor’s every movement as Akaashi pushes himself to his feet and takes a moment to study him. Tears and bubbles of snot leak in a disgusting mix down his jaw, dripping onto his lap as he sobs against his bindings. It’s pitiful, seeing a man reduced to a whimpering, terrified wreck, but as the hand still holding his knife grips at his chin and yanks his face closer, Akaashi can’t help but gleefully drink it all in. 

Your would be knight in shining armour doesn’t look quite so strong and capable now, does he?

Akaashi doesn’t have much time left to make him suffer, but he can’t seem to resist trailing his fingers along Kaito’s injured leg, digging them deep into the ruined muscle - grinning wildly when he convulses and screams, arching up off the chair. 

There’s still so much that he’d like to do. He toys with the idea of taking his tongue, of carving his knife deep into his skin just to watch him whimper and bleed… but no. This isn’t about indulgence. This is about you. He has to have more discipline than that.

Dangling on the edge of consciousness, Kaito meets his gaze one last time. Maybe he senses that his death is close, or maybe he’s just searching for a last minute reprieve, mercy from the cold blooded killer before him. Terrified, agonised, delirious from the blood loss, he tries to speak - a plea, he thinks, or maybe just incomprehensible babbling, but his eyes burn into Akaashi’s, desperate and hollow.

Akaashi’s never been one for theatrics. He won’t waste more time monologuing while your friend clings to the last vestiges of life. If Kaito hasn’t guessed by now the reasons he’s ended up here, at Akaashi’s mercy, he’s far less intelligent than he gave him credit for, but he supposes that he owes him something, at least. 

“I love her,” he says with a small shrug, as if it explains everything.

And maybe it does. 

It hardly matters though, as Akaashi decides to finally end it with a vicious slice across his throat. Blood sprays like a fountain, splattering across the room and drenching him, Kaito’s body slumps in his seat, the last flicker of life slowly snuffing out, and Akaashi revels in the pure, sweet euphoria that floods his system.

He’s never killed anybody while you were home with him before. Normally he’s methodical, quick to clean up whatever mess is left behind. Tonight though, Akaashi doesn’t have the patience for all that.

He should at least take a shower, rid himself of the blood that soaked him to the skin, but the call of your arms, the sweet, soft floral scent he longs to drown himself in beckoning is too hard to resist. He sheds his clothes, casting them aside haphazardly along with the bloody knife as he stalks down the hallway to the bedroom. His heart is still racing, excitement drumming through his veins as he crawls onto the bed and slides the covers off of you.

Dimly, he registers that this is a monumentally bad idea, but all he can think about is the vivid memory of the light leaving Kaito’s eyes and you. Tonight, he killed for you, and it was exhilarating.

He doesn’t think he could stop himself even if he wanted to, and why would he want to?

You’re perfect, beautiful - his. Nothing and nobody will ever be able to separate the two of you, he’ll kill anybody who tries. 

You stir a little as Akaashi’s lips graze along your skin, his fingers sliding the silk of your nightgown up over your hips.

“‘Kaashi?” you sleepily murmur, trying to blink heavy eyelids open.

He wonders if you can feel the way his bloodstained hands are trembling as they ease your supple thighs apart. “Shh, baby,” he presses a kiss against your leg as he manoeuvres himself between them, “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”

Let me take care of you. 

He needs this.

[shoutogepi]

Alarm

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 2K (blurb!)

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]  

themes : sub!shouto, dom!reader, praise, bondage

bio : Your boyfriend loves to be tied up and tortured, and you’re more than happy to deliver.

author’s note : uhhh idk in the past there’ve been some requests for sub sho so thought i would post these meager scraps to feed you guys while i work on the next fic (tamaki smut)

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄰 loud moan floats from Shouto’s parted lips, his eyes slamming shut underneath his furrowed brow. His hips attempt to shift backwards, away from your touch, but the ropes holding down his thighs leave no room for escape. His muscles push against the restraints, but the only part of his body that he can move is his head, which he throws back in agony as your finger traces down his shaft.

The remnants of his ruined orgasm drip down the crevices of his abs, his cock red and twitching angrily at how you’d jerked your hand away as soon as his load began to spurt out. Without your touch his release had been painfully unsatisfactory; he had cried out in distress as the ecstasy instantly vanished and only its phantom remained, leaving his cock erect before you.

“Do you wanna be a good boy for me now, baby?” Your words splice the tension in the air, and he moves his face forward again to see your fist close around his length.

“Aha— ah!” He groans as your lips hug the head of his cock, your tongue experimentally roving over his salty, flustered skin. Swirling it around his swollen tip, your watchful eyes take in the intoxicating expression painted over his handsome features. When your cheeks hollow and you welcome more of him into his mouth, his eyes nearly bug out of his head and he lewdly whimpers,” S-Sensitiveee.”

His caution falling on deaf ears, your gaze only twinkles with threat as you take even more of him between your lips, your tongue washing the bulging vein that splits into two on the underside of his cock. Shouto gasps and attempts to lift his hips at your persistence, half-lidded eyes glued to your every move. His tongue pokes out to wet his lips, and he takes his bottom lip between his teeth as you begin to bob your head. The length of him easily glides in and out of your mouth, and his tip pressing against the walls of your throat makes his eyes drift upward underneath his lids in pleasure. His breath is ragged, muscular chest shaking with each sharp inhale.

Incoherent words tumble from his mouth, his eyes straining to stay open. Your torture on his cock sends electricity shooting through his limbs, the stimulation almost too much— but fuck, your pace is just right— you know how to dance upon the fine line between too much and not enough, and it has him sweating and seeing stars. His cock is harder than ever, and he cannot fathom how you’d managed to keep his length this erect after his climax.

“Ngggh!” Shouto grumbles when your fist glides over the head, flushed cock twitching violently against your palm. “Please,” he croaks, drooping eyes cast down to lock with your own, peering up at him with a wicked glint. He isn’t really sure what exactly he’s asking for, but the word slides out of him without a thought.

His heart begins to hammer in his chest as you stand, and his eyes instantly fly to the glistening folds between your legs. He can only whine as your leg swings over his lap, your arms landing on his shoulders and pulling yourself closer to him. His cock jumps as your hard nipples drag against his skin, and you giggle as the slick hardness pokes your abdomen.

Your chest flush against his, you lean in and press the softest kiss to his lips. Shouto’s head spins, his hands itching with the need to reach out and pull you closer to him. His jaw falls slack as you begin to grind against him, your slick slipping onto his cock and trailing down his thigh. Your core is so hot against his aching length, he lets out a long moan as his head falls back once again. Your hips roll against his restrained lap, pulling your clit along his pink skin with ease. Pussy leaking onto him, even though you’re in control you can’t help but let out an erotic groan. Having your seemingly-aloof, collected man struggling to keep it together underneath you has your eyes rolling back in excitement, your teeth conquering his lower lip. Raising your hips, you guide his tip along your slit and around your soaked entrance in deviously slow circles.

“Y/N,” Shouto gasps, brow cinched and perspiration glistening along the side of his handsome face. His eyes dart toward your pussy hovering over his cock, gulping audibly as you lower yourself just halfway onto the tip. “I— fuck, I don’t think I can—“

Your fingernails delve through his two-toned locks, scraping against his scalp as you grab a handful and pull, eliciting a deep, lustful sound. His chin juts into the air, sharp jawline hiked upwards, but his eyes do not leave yours. There are no words to describe the passion that crackles between the two of you; all you can do is give him your most sultry gaze and cheshire-like grin.

“You can,” you purr, your other hand brushing him against your clit one last time, “and you will.”

His cock pushes into you, parting your slippery walls like a hot knife through soft butter. You sink down onto him slowly, savoring the stretch as you accommodate the delicious intrusion. A broken moan rings from Shouto’s lips, but he doesn’t dare break eye contact with you. Your gaze is fiery and demanding, and he can only watch your face as the warmth of your cunt envelops his tender length in a silky, intense euphoria.

Just as your mouth had taken him before, your pussy welcomes him at a snail's pace; just fast enough to keep him panting but slow enough to sate his weary cock. Your hand still rooted in his hair, the other reaches behind you to scratch your nails from his knee toward you. Goosebumps rise to meet the stuffy air of the room, and his head falls to lay on your arm as you sink back down onto him, balls deep.

Sheathed inside you, Shouto can barely keep his wits, his eyelids heavy with lust and exhaustion, but he would never miss out on an opportunity to see your blissful, dominant expression above him. Deciding to give him a reward, your free hand lands on the wide expanse of his chest, your fanned fingers sliding shut to capture his nipple, and rubbing the sensitive bud gently as you massage the hard muscle underneath. He lets a loud cry loose, cock perking upright inside of you at the stimulation.

You begin to increase your pace, restless to feel his thick member draw along your walls. Shouto cannot keep the noises of pleasure from surfacing, unabashed and gravely moans releasing out into the silent room. Your clit rubs against the bicolored thatch of hair at the base of his cock, and his hips try to buck against the ropes without prevail. The angle of you on his lap provides fulfilling access to deep inside your womb,  your essence dripping down his balls and onto the chair underneath him to form a small, slick puddle.

Your hand leaves his chest momentarily to grip your own breast, placing it into Shouto’s open mouth before finding purchase on his pec once again. He latches onto your tit instantly, tongue rolling around your nipple before sucking on the pebbled bud and flicking against it with reckless abandon. His eagerness to please only turns you on even more, your hips slamming down to stuff yourself with his heavy length.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so damn good,” you groan, tightening your loosened hold on his hair. He grunts in immediate response, lips wrapped around your breast and tongue working feverishly. “You’re such a good boy, yeah— you’re my good boy,” you praise, and your tit falls from his mouth as he lets out a whine.

Your words have him twitching inside and quivering underneath you, harsh puffs of steam surging from his now gaping mouth. Orange embers begin to lick the edges of his scar, a coating of frost emanating from his hand tied behind his back. He can only say your name, chanting it like you’d cast a bewitching spell upon his beautiful, delirious form.

The familiar coil tightening in your stomach, you groan as you slam onto him with newfound ferocity. No longer holding anything back, your fingers leave his nipple to gently grip his throat, fingers winding around the thick, corded muscles there. His eyes are on you, both hands forcing him to match your searing gaze as you fuck yourself onto his cock.

“You’re mine, you’re all mine,” you gasp, and he groans in agreement, the embers on his face growing into little flames along his skin. “Fuck, does my good boy wanna cum? You gonna cum in me, fill me to the brim with your seed, baby?” The words are sharp and frayed, your lungs nearly breathless as you bounce on his throbbing length.

“Fuck, yes,” Shouto moans, voice trembling as your fingers press into the racing pulse on his throat. “All yours— so close!” The chair beneath you squeaks as you pound yourself onto him, his body shaking as the pressure in his stomach nears its peak. “P-Please, I need to... Please let me cum,” he begs breathlessly, desperation emerging in his gray and blue gaze. 

His request has your cunt fluttering around him, an offering to charm the ravenous beast of your dominance. You hungrily accept his words, nodding as your jaw falls, the feeling of his long, thick cock splitting you taking over your senses entirely. “Fuck, be a good boy and cum inside me then.”

The fingers in his hair yank hard, pulling his head backwards as your other hand keeps its tight hold on his neck. His body tenses, and you cry out as you drop your hips onto him for the final time. Both of your strangled moans fill the room, ecstasy wracking through your bodies as you hurtle over the edge together. Your legs shake as your cunt squeezes around him, and his body strains against the ropes as he coats your walls in hot and sticky spurts.

Your trembling fingers soothe over his damp skin, pushing the hair dangling over his eyes back to press a kiss to his forehead. He hums at the gesture, cooling his breath so it calms the rosy skin of your chest. The flames flickering on his face dull before dying out, the intensity of the moment lulling as your hand slips from his throat, arm wrapping around his neck to place your lips on his.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your mouth, lips pushing against yours passionately.

You purr in reciprocation, but before you can voice your feelings the sprinkler on the ceiling bursts to life, cold water instantly drenching both of you.

You shriek at the rude interruption, sharing an incredulous look with the man underneath you, whose cock is still softening within you. After the initial shock, you let out a sigh, the gaze between the two of you knowing but still amused.

“You set off the fire alarm again, baby,” you can’t help but chuckle at the ridiculous situation, the shy grin on Shouto’s lips spurring you on.

“Technically you set it off,” he corrects, raising a brow at you. “I was just being a good boy.”

You smack his arm with a huff of faux irritation before you give him another quick kiss and begin to undo the ties on his wrists, wondering how angry your landlord will be with the two of you for yet another sprinkler-related incident. Concluding that Shouto can pay for any damages he’d caused, you decide that the session you’d just finished was well worth it, drenched furniture and all.

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

.

➥ masterlist ✍(◔◡◔) thanks for reading!!

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[bakumu-archive]

you already have me

bakugou x reader

wc: 1.8k

summary: you expect to spend the night relaxing while bakugou spends time with his friends, until game night gets cut short and you become the center of his attention 

cw: porn with little plot, daddy kink, praise kink, creampie, unprotected sex, a lil cum eating (idk if it counts but just to be safe), he carries the reader (he’s strong, he could carry you), a lil fluff as a treat, aged up characters, established relationship

a/n: please be gentle! this is my time writing fanfiction and smut so I’m really excited to see what everyone thinks of it! a big shout out to @winniethepoohloathesyou​ and @bobawithpomegranate​ for beta reading it and leaving me so many edits, i couldn’t have done this without you guys. i’ve had this idea stuck in my head for a while and i’m happy to release it out into the world. enjoy ♡

“DIE, YOU NERDS!”

Chuckling to yourself as you hear Katsuki scream obscenities from the game room, you continue your work in the kitchen making dinner. Standing by the stove and waiting for the water to boil you can't help but miss his presence, even if he's only a room away.

Your thoughts drift through various ideas: what are you going to do for the rest of the night, if your favorite fanfic has had an update come out, what Katsuki’s schedule looks like next week... Your thoughts always drift back to him, the love of your life and you can't help but be jealous of his keyboard right now.

Gaming night with the boys was—as much as he would never admit it—one of Katsuki’s favorite things. He missed seeing his friends every day like back in their UA days, but since becoming a pro hero, getting engaged, and buying a house he has had to shuffle his priorities around. Usually, you spend the whole evening trying to relax as his shouting soothes your eardrums from the other room, but tonight is different as his footsteps suddenly sneak up behind you.

Grabbing your hips, he pulls you back into him. “Hey princess, I've missed you.”

His voice is huskier than normal, sending vibrations right to your core. His hands grip your hips tighter and you push your ass back into him.

“Katsu! I thought you were playing games tonight?” Your question sounds whinier than you intended but right now you couldn’t care less. 

He hums behind you, grinding his growing erection into you some more before muttering, “Denki had to stop, early patrol tomorrow.” 

He turns you around and picks you up so you are sitting on the countertop, hands skimming down your sides until he is gripping at your hips again. Stepping between your thighs to get closer to you, his eyes rake up your body taking you in. Your breathing is heavy, making him chuckle.

“You're so worked up already, have I been neglecting my pretty girl?” 

If you weren't so turned on, you would have rolled your eyes at him, but all you do is whimper. You pout as he smirks at you, moving his hands under your shirt to rub your soft skin with his thumbs. 

How he is able to turn you into a whimpering mess with just a few actions is always a surprise to you, but it has been a few days since he's given you this much of his undivided attention.

His mouth is just a breath away from yours as he stares at your lips. “Guess I'll have to make it up to you.” 

Ghosting his lips over yours, toying with you, trying to drive you crazy. Surging forward, you try to capture his lips, but he pulls away just out of reach. As you beg him with your eyes to kiss you already, he licks his lips and lets out a deep groan before crashing his lips onto yours.

Tongue and teeth clashing into each other, he reaches one hand around your back, pulling you closer to him, while the other traces up your body to your neck. Angling your head, he kisses you deeper. A moan you didn't even know you were trying to keep down emerges, breaking the kiss.

Feeling entirely too hot, you grab the bottom of your shirt and pull it over your head, quickly following it with your bra. Sucking in a breath as you expose your chest to him, he follows your lead, throwing his shirt across the room. Your eyes watch your fingers as they ghost across his abs before they move slowly up his body, bringing out a shudder from Katsuki. He’s holding his breath, waiting for you to make the next move. When your hands make their way up to his neck, you meet his gaze. His eyes are hungry, consuming your soul. It feels suffocating, but you can't look away.

He moves his lips back to yours needily. He peppers kisses down your face before starting his assault on your neck. He starts out lightly kissing your skin at your pulse point, but as you moan more, he can’t hold himself back. He sucks and bites at your weak spots, intending on leaving his mark. His lips start to ghost down your chest as he moves his palms from your waist to your breasts, kneading them before attaching his mouth to one of your nipples. 

Moans escape from your mouth as your hips move on their own against his cock. You can feel how hard he is through his jeans and your mind goes numb at the thought of him. Your hand reaches down to rub him through the fabric and you feel him pulse under your palm.

“F-fuck. Keep doing that, princess, and I'm gonna cream my pants,” he whispers breathlessly. He must be as frustrated as you if he's already this close.

Looking down at him, you bat your eyelashes and whisper, “I’d rather you cum in me, daddy.” 

A guttural moan leaves his throat. He suddenly turns to the stove - shutting off the burner that you had completely forgotten about with a slam before moving his hands back to your body, gripping under your thighs. You wrap your arms around his neck as he effortlessly picks you up off the counter. Wrapping your fingers into his hair, he resumes his assault on your neck as he makes his way to the bedroom.

He places you down on the edge of the bed and you stare up at him. His body looks like it's glowing. A thin sheen of sweat on his skin, fiery eyes roaming all over your body, and with some of his hair sticking to his forehead, you think he looks like a god. He slowly starts to take off his jeans, dragging them down his hips slowly. He’s teasing you, knowing that you are getting wetter from watching him.

His cock springs free and you gasp, realizing that he wasn't wearing any underwear. The sight of it makes your core clench. You desperately wish for it to be in your hands, your mouth, your cunt, honestly anywhere on you at this point. 

“If you see something you want, you know you just have to ask for it,” he says as he closes in on you. His body encompasses yours. Looking down from above you, surrounding you in all of his heat, he places his hands on either side of your hips, waiting.

“Please, Katsu. I just want you.” 

He lets out a small “tch” before reaching down to pull off your pants and underwear.

 “You already have me, dumbass,” he says affectionately.

Your eyes meet and bask in the tender moment before his lips are on you again. Scooting you back on the bed, he climbs on top of you. Your lips meet in a frenzy, swallowing each other's moans before they can escape. Both of you lose yourself to the kiss, tongues meeting in unison. He pulls away from you and you groan at the loss of contact.

His hand runs down your body, before dipping between your folds. A groan leaves him. “Fuck, baby. You're already so wet for me.” 

He gathers up your slick on his fingers before he brings them up to his mouth. Keeping his gaze locked with yours, he places his fingers in his mouth and moans. His eyes flutter as he sucks them clean. “You always taste so good. Mmm. If I didn’t need to fuck you so bad I’d eat your cunt out for hours.”

You can't help but feel your empty hole flutter at the thought, but you agree. You are way too needy right now.

“Please, Katsu. Fuck me already. I need you, daddy.”

You can feel his body shudder when you drawl out those last words. He's losing his composure and it's exactly what you need right now.

He slowly spreads your legs out wider for him. He slides the tip of his cock against your clit and through your folds, drawing out moan after moan from you. And from the looks of it, Katsuki looks like he isn't faring any better. He's concentrating on not cuming already and he's not even inside you yet. He places his elbows on the bed next to your head as the tip of him slides inside of your wet cunt, stretching you so deliciously. You missed his cock so much, even if it's only been a few days. He pushes in you slowly and when he finally bottoms out, you both release a small, “fuck.”

His lips move against yours as he slowly pulls out before slamming himself back in, hitting that perfect spot inside of you. You break the kiss, arching your back, not being able to concentrate on anything except how he feels inside of you, as he keeps a steady pace fucking you expertly.

Your walls already fluttering around him and he moves his hand down to thumb at your clit. “Gonna cum for me already? That's my good girl.” 

At his praise, you feel your whole body tense. Your orgasm races through you, causing you to cry out his name like it's the only word you know, vision turning black as you see stars, and your head swims in your high. His hips stutter as he lets out a string of curses before he pushes his cock deeper into your dripping cunt, spilling his cum into you. 

He stays inside of you as he relaxes his body, putting some of his weight on you. Both of you are trying to catch your breath, as he looks down at you and smiles.

“I love you so much, you know that?”

You grin back at him, looking into his eyes that are so full of love and tenderness. “Yeah, I know, Katsuki,” you reply.

You kiss his nose, causing him to blush and you laugh. “Really, you just fucked the life out of me, but one kiss on your nose has you blushing? You're so cute.”

He pulls out of you, rolling his eyes, and retorting, “Shut up, dumbass.” He climbs off the bed as you laugh. You roll to your side, watching him and following his ass with your eyes as he picks the discarded clothing off the floor. He reaches out a hand to you to pull you off the bed. “Lets get cleaned up and figure out dinner.”

You accept his help, using his hand to anchor yourself while your legs return to their non-jelly form. He kisses your forehead once you're stable and as you make your way to the bathroom, he slaps your ass. 

“Keep doing that, Katsu, and we're gonna have to go for round two,” you tease.

He pulls you back into his warm embrace and wraps his arms around you. “Oh yeah? If we order takeout, I bet I could get two more rounds in before the food gets here.”

You laugh while he goes to find his phone to order from your favorite restaurant. You can hear him yell from across the house. “They'll be here in 40 minutes, get back on the bed!”

God, you were in for a long night, but with Katsuki you wouldn't have it any other way.

thanks for reading! i’d love to hear any constructive criticism so that i can get better at writing! just sprinkle a little but of praise in for me  ♡

[aforrestofstuff]

What’s your favorite and least favorite thing about three of your favorite characters?

Hey thanks for asking! This is a fun question! I’m assuming this is for OPM characters but if not, you can send this again and specify otherwise. I have a lot of characters I like, not just from OPM!

1. Y’all know who it is (it’s Zombieman)

Favorite thing: His aesthetic! I’m a big fan of the noir/detective feel he’s got going on, and that’s just reinforced by how Murata draws him in covers. Specifically this one:

He feels a lot different compared to the rest of the heroes. You can tell Murata and ONE spent a lot of time figuring out his character design, and it really paid off. I fucking love his vintage vampire hunter outfit, his dramatic covers, the fact that he apparently wears leather pants in this one, and his mysterious backstory. So many things done right with this guy.

Least favorite thing(s): his fucking hair. It’s hell to draw. If he wore it slicked back or even just had it hanging over his forehead like Genos, I wouldn’t even be bitching about it right now. But NOOOOOoooo, Murata just HAD to make this motherfucker wear a hedgehog wig like it ain’t the most excruciating thing to draw. Will never forgive that fucker for flexing his artistic ability. How DARE he be good at drawing....

Also, I don’t like Zombieman’s lack of eyebrows. But we ain’t even gonna talk about that because I’d rather not expose y’all to 27 new curse words.

2: Genos

Favorite thing: the fact that he’s 99% ass-kicking robot machine. And I also love how his design changes drastically with each upgrade. Fan artists can choose which design they like best and Murata can flex all of his cool ideas without even straying from canon, it’s a win-win baby! His character is cool, too. It would’ve been really easy to make Genos a static side character with 100% plot relevance and 0 motivation, but ONE decided not to because idk, I guess his dick is big or some shit.

Genos has his own fucking story with his own fucking drive to succeed. I love this motherfucker. He’s inspiring, he’s cool, he’s badass, and he’s also a walking testament to how stupid it is being 19 years of age.

Least favorite thing: okay I know I just said I really like his design and I love cool robots but dammit dude, robots are hard to draw. Also, I think he’s really unpredictable with his dialogue and that makes him really difficult to write in fanfiction. Like, he has a few constants: being Saitama’s bitch, protecting Kuseno, and finding out what he can about the Mad Cyborg. But sometimes he just reacts to things differently than I would expect him to. For example: I never really thought he would be one to gloat about his victories but he surprisingly does it pretty often? I digress.

He also smiles a lot more often than I’d expect him to as well. I just don’t know what the fuck he’s gonna do or say next.

3: Atomic Samurai

Favorite thing: I don’t really know. He’s a samurai (which is cool), he’s hot, and he’s the loving crack father to a small gang of hooligans. I can’t choose just one thing because he’s like 27 of my favorite tropes rolled up into one shithead.

His character design is really neat too! I thought the capes would’ve been super annoying to draw but the practice really helped me figure out how to do flowing fabric folds and shit! Thanks for giving fan artists hell, Murata. It all worked out in the end.

Least favorite thing: his pride is so annoying. He’s gotten a lot better in recent chapters but when he first got introduced (you know, the time he didn’t wanna shake Saitama’s hand because he thought Saitama was a weakling or some shit), I wanted to fucking kill him. He came off as a real stone-cold bastard and I’m glad he’s warmed up a bit because if he stayed a bitch the entire fucking manga then I think I would’ve stopped reading by now. He’s too important a character to have such a shit personality. Amai is the exception.

It was really hard choosing between Atomic Samurai, Metal Bat, and Garou for option #3 but the crack dad won me over. If you ask me this question again in about 2 days time, I’ll probably have a different set of answers. Inconsistency makes things spicy! I have ADHD.

[clumsyclifford]

hello my dearest so i'm unsure if you're taking requests right now and if you're not (or just don't feel like writing this) feel absolutely free to ignore this!! anyway i would really really love to read about a spiderman kiss happening in the spiderman au 👀 i have absolutely no excuse for requesting this kinda silly thing except that i love spiderman kisses as a prompt/trope (? idk what the correct term is) and also spiderman au so bye love you loads -fiancee

hello !!! this was an absolutely inspired prompt so i am glad i finally got round to writing it thank you. also thank you @cringeycake for the editing/con crit/validation

better tags/info on ao3 but this takes place shortly after the end of the malum spidey fic and it does have a gun in it for a sec, is that something that needs a tw? well anyway now you know

read it here on ao3

-

Ashton and Calum are ten minutes from home when it starts to rain.

“Of course,” says Calum. Ashton quickly pockets his phone so it doesn’t get wet. “This is your fault.”

“How’s this my fault?”

“I don’t know, but it obviously is.” Calum’s just in a sour mood because Ashton had completely destroyed him in all three rounds of bowling. 

“Shut up,” Ashton says, rolling his eyes. The rain falls faster, cold and piercing through the thin fabric of Ashton’s t-shirt. It had been nice for most of the day, but it must have gotten overcast while they were inside. Predictably, neither of them had had the foresight to check the forecast.

“Whatever,” Ashton says. “A little rain never hurt anyone.”

“A lot of rain,” Calum says. It is a lot of rain now, coming down in buckets. Naturally the sky would choose this moment to open up. 

“A lot of rain never hurt anyone either,” Ashton points out. Which is not true, but they’re not going to catch hypothermia or anything. Probably. And it’s only ten minutes. Eight if they really get a move on. 

Calum sighs. Still, when Ashton glances over at him to make sure he’s not really upset, he can tell it’s all for show. After all, it’s only rain. A lot or a little, there’s only so much harm that comes from being soaking wet. They’re on their way back to Ashton’s anyway, where Ashton will be gracious enough to lend him the usual Green Day t-shirt and whatever hoodie Ashton himself isn’t wearing. 

They make nonsense conversation as they walk, both curled into themselves to keep warm. Apart from the occasional passing car, nobody is out and about in this weather, just the two of them in a slowly darkening neighborhood. Unease prickles at the back of Ashton’s neck. Or maybe that’s just the rain.

“Hey, you kids. Hey!”

Ashton and Calum spin around and see two figures approaching them through the downpour. The uneasy feeling returns full-force, this time accompanied by Ashton’s heart ramming against his chest as a spike of anxiety — or adrenaline? — courses through him. Next to him, Calum mutters, “Fuck, fuck, Ashton, he has a gun,” and Ashton realizes with growing panic that the bigger of the two does, in fact, have thick fingers curled around a gun.

“Stop walking,” the armed guy commands. Ashton really, really doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t think they have another choice. Something tells him flight won’t get them far, and trying to fight will just get them both shot.

They come to a halt as the figures come closer, crowding them into the alley they’ve stopped outside. Better place to die, Ashton’s horrible mind supplies. The armed guy holds up the gun and Ashton’s heart stops mid-pulse. He can’t seem to come up with any coherent thoughts, nothing that will get them out of this situation or even postpone it. Helplessness floods every inch of him, and all he can think is how awful it would be to die feeling helpless.

“Money, valuables, whatever you got,” sneers the guy not holding the gun. “If you don’t want to cooperate —”

Ashton’s prepared to say something along the lines of we’ll give you anything you want, loath though he is to be that cliché, when the gun vanishes out of Armed Thug’s hands. There’s just enough time for all four of them to blink in bewildered surprise when a far more reassuring figure appears out of nowhere, flipping both thugs onto their backs on the pavement and swiftly knocking them out. For good measure, he webs their limbs to the ground, and then he turns back to Calum and Ashton, who both stare.

“Spiderman,” Ashton says breathlessly. Luke seems just as surprised to see them.

“Ashton?” He’s on them in a flash. “Calum? Holy fuck, I didn’t realize it was you guys. Are you okay? Did they take anything from you? Are either of you hurt?”

“We — we’re okay,” Calum says, looking a little dumbstruck. “Thanks.”

“What the fuck are you guys doing out right now?”

“Just walking home,” Ashton says defensively. “We went bowling.” He inhales deeply, trying to get his heart rate back to normal. The shock is still coursing through his veins, though the relief flooding him is helping him regain his balance. 

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Fine, they didn’t do anything,” Ashton says. Shaken, but ultimately unhurt. “Uh, good thing you were here.” He quirks his lips. “Our hero.”

“Thank fucking God I was.” Luke shifts on his feet. “Well. Okay. If you’re sure you’re okay.” He shoots a web to the roof of one of the buildings enclosing the alley — how do those stick even in the rain? — and leaps up into the air like he’s going to go. Ashton frowns.

“Hey, don’t just leave,” he says. “I haven’t heard from you all day.”

Luke hangs from the web upside down, possibly flexing, and says, “Sorry, sorry, I know. Been very busy. Lots of crime. You know how it is.”

“Did you take any breaks?”

“Of course I did,” Luke says, offended. “I had a churro. It was delicious. Just didn’t have time to stop at home.”

He leaves his phone at home when he’s on patrol — that must be why he’s been MIA. Ashton really doesn’t like that, even if he understands. It’s just. He hates that something could happen to Luke and he’d have no way of knowing. They won’t let Ashton be on comms, even for moral support — Michael claims he’ll only be a distraction, and while Ashton’s not sure if that’s true, he’s definitely not practical enough to be helpful in any Spiderman-related situation. Unless Spiderman happened to encounter evil watercolors or something.

“Okay, well.” Ashton sighs. “I just. Worry.”

“Tell me about it,” Luke says, though from the smile in his voice, it’s clear he’s teasing. “There’s no room in your brain for anything else at this point.”

“Alright, don’t feel like you need to stay and chat, Spidey,” Ashton loudly announces, talking over Luke’s contagious giggles.

“Don’t be like that,” Luke says, reaching for Ashton. His fingers close around Ashton’s drenched shirt and Ashton allows himself to be pulled closer, as Luke tugs the bottom of the mask up so only his mouth and chin are visible. He’s stopped wearing the lip ring underneath it, much to Ashton’s chagrin.

As Luke tugs Ashton into a kiss, Ashton decides he can’t complain.

The rain makes their mouths slick, and it’s strange enough kissing someone who’s upside down that it’s a little difficult to get lost in it. Ashton’s smiling before he can stop himself, the taste of rainwater mixing with the familiar taste of Luke. He’s never really tasted rainwater. Or kissed anyone in the rain. His heart’s still beating hard, but now it’s for a different reason.

“Um? What the fuck is going on right now?”

Ashton breaks away from Luke, who flips over and lands on his feet. They both face Calum, who looks more confused than the time Ashton tried to teach him to draw three-dimensional shapes.

“Kissing my boyfriend,” Luke says. 

“Your? What? You — I thought?” 

Ashton takes in Calum’s face and tone of voice and puts two and two together. “Oh my God,” he says, wincing. “You didn’t know.”

“Know what?” Calum demands. “That you’re — what — I don’t even know what to think.” Although that quickly changes with his expression, which becomes more incredulous as he reaches a conclusion. “No, never mind. I’ve got it. If that’s not Luke under there, you and I are going to have a very serious talk.”

“It’s Luke, I’m Luke,” Luke says quickly, pulling the mask the rest of the way off — though not without a quick glance to each side. Upon reflection, he shoots a web towards each fallen thug, giving them both very fashionable web-masks that cover their eyes. “Though let’s maybe not throw my name around.”

Calum stands and stares. Ashton remembers when that had been his reaction.

“Don’t fucking expose yourself in public on my behalf,” Calum says finally, gesturing. “Put the mask back on, Christ. I’m not— I’m— I just need a minute.”

“I told Ashton he could tell you,” Luke says as he pulls the mask back on. “Ashton, you didn’t tell him?”

“I thought Michael would have!”

“You don't think if he had, I wouldn’t have immediately called you to make fun of you for spending weeks pining after both Luke and Spiderman only to find they were the same fucking person? And that, oh yeah, your boyfriend's fucking Spiderman?” In his indignance, Calum’s gotten louder.

“Shh,” Ashton says, glaring meaningfully. “I know he is. That’s a secret.”

“From me?”

“No, okay, I meant to tell you,” Ashton says, dragging a hand through sopping wet hair. “I was trying to figure out how, but then Luke said he told Michael and I we could tell you, and I thought Michael would do it. Because he’s your boyfriend and he’s known Luke way longer. And then, I don’t know.” 

Maybe a part of him had hoped Michael would tell Calum. If only to avoid the mockery Ashton knows he’ll be subject to in coming days regarding his emotional crisis over Luke and Spiderman. 

“I hate you more than I’ve ever hated you,” Calum informs Ashton, although he’s never really hated Ashton, so that’s not a very high bar. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Yes! I swear.”

“I thought you already knew,” Luke volunteers. “Damn, Ash, good thing I kissed you or Calum would never have found out.”

“Shut up,” Ashton says, rolling his eyes. “Look, Calum — I’m sorry. This was, uh, not a great way to find out.”

“Yeah, no fucking shit,” Calum mutters. His lips pull upward in a smile far too dry for the weather, and finally he laughs. The hilarity of the whole situation catches up with all of them, and before long the three of them are howling with laughter as rain comes down in sheets, encasing them in a chill that Ashton barely feels.

“This is all so fucking insane,” Calum manages, wiping at his eyes. He’s still squinting through the rain. “I can’t believe I’ve been friends with Spiderman all this time. What the fuck is my life? What is our life? You’re dating Spiderman, Ashton. Do you know that?”

“What fucking part of secret identity do you not understand?” Ashton says. “Stop exposing all of his secrets.”

“You just kissed in the middle of the alley!”

That’s fair. They did just do that. In Ashton’s defense, though, Luke started it. Ashton is merely a victim to Luke’s whims. Shenanigans. Whatever. 

“I was just trying to save some lives,” Luke says, shaking his head ruefully. “My Spidey-sense was tingling.”

“I hate when you say that.”

“Spidey-Meter, would you prefer that? Spider Radar? Spider Scale?”

“Just call it intuition.”

“It’s more than intuition,” Luke insists. “You just don’t get it because you’ve never felt it.”

“Whatever you say, Spidey.”

“Well, I hate to cut this short, but it is raining a lot,” Calum says, like maybe they’ll have forgotten. “And considering I am going to see you” — with a significant look at Luke — “at school on Monday, I think we can probably catch up later.”

“Let me walk you home,” Luke says, ever the gentleman, or possibly protective. “It’s not far.”

“What are you going to do with these two?” Calum asks, jabbing a thumb at the thugs passed out in the mouth of the alley. “Leave them?”

“Uh,” Luke says. “Let me handle them. I’ll catch up to you.”

Calum tilts his head suspiciously. Ashton just starts walking, jerking his chin to get Calum to join him. “It’s fine. He’ll catch up.”

After a moment, Calum follows. They’re both soaked through, yet the rain is as relentless as ever. Calum falls into step as they start down the pavement.

“You really thought I already knew?” Calum says doubtfully. 

Ashton sighs. “Okay, I was a little tiny bit hoping that I wouldn’t have to be the one to tell you.” He inclines his head. “But I realize I dropped the ball here. I should have told you sooner. I would’ve eventually.”

Calum is quiet for a moment. “I mean, it’s fine,” he says defeatedly. “When did he even tell you?”

“Um, the day before Luke and I started dating,” Ashton says. “Originally we really were keeping it from you, but then Luke realized that wasn’t going to fly with, you know. How important you are in my life. And Michael’s, I guess.”

“Don’t try to flatter me into forgiveness,” Calum says. Ashton snorts.

“That’s literally what happened, though. And then I was trying to figure out what would be the best way to tell you, because, uh, it’s kind of insane? And then Luke told me that he told Michael that Michael could tell you — God, I feel like a twelve-year-old girl — and I kinda thought I would let Michael do it. Which was a bad move on my part. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Calum says again. “I don’t really care. Like, I get it. Yeah. It’s kind of insane. And I don’t know Luke as well as you or Michael, so.”

“But I’m glad you know now,” Ashton says firmly. “Sorry you had to find out like this, but I’m happy that you know. I’m sure I’d have said something stupid sooner or later and you would’ve figured it out.”

“Yeah, now that you mention it, this makes a lot of things make sense,” Calum says. He huffs a laugh. “My God, Ashton, I can’t believe you genuinely had a crush on the same boy twice without knowing it was the same boy. Your life.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Anything else you want to tell me while you’re at it? Anything you conveniently neglected to mention?”

“Yeah, actually, one thing. I’m also a superhero, completely forgot to say —”

“Oh, fuck off.”

 Ashton laughs, clapping a hand onto Calum’s shoulder. A wry smile overtakes Calum’s face, chuckling despite his best efforts, and Ashton knows they’re okay.

“Hey,” says Luke, dropping down beside the pair of them. 

Calum jerks. “Motherfucker. Don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” Luke says. If it were just Luke as himself, Ashton would take his hand, but this Luke is still Spiderman, so Ashton dutifully keeps his hands to himself, crossing his arms over his chest and tucking his fingers underneath his arms in hopes of preserving some warmth.

It doesn’t work. “You’re shivering,” Luke tells Ashton. 

“I know that,” Ashton says. “It’s cold. I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s raining.”

“If only we’d remembered to bring our supersuits from home,” Calum dryly contributes.

Luke makes a face at them both. “You guys are so funny, you know that?”

“Thank you,” Calum says. “You’re also funny. But, you know. Looks aren’t everything.”

A pause as Luke processes this. Finally: “Hey!”

Ashton laughs. “Just wait, he’ll make the same joke until you stop setting it up for him.” Something Ashton had learned the hard way.

They chat amicably until they reach Ashton’s building, at which point Luke says, “I better go.” It’d be nice to get a kiss goodbye, but Ashton figures they’ve already pushed their luck on the kissing front. Luke backs away from them, shooting a web up at the roof. “I’ll see you on Monday. Call you tonight, Ash.”

“You better.”

“And will you please tell Michael to call me as well?” Calum says, crossing his arms. “Unless he’s giving me the silent treatment.”

“No, he dropped his phone in the sink,” Luke snickers. “So it’s been in rice all day.”

Of course he did. For someone who’s virtually a genius, Michael sure does have an idiotic streak. He’s a lot like Calum in that way.

“Thanks for walking us home,” Ashton says, smiling fondly. “And, you know, saving our lives.”

“All in a day’s work,” Luke says, warmth bleeding into his voice. “See you guys later. Be safe. Stay warm. You know.”

 Between one blink and the next, he’s gone.

“‘Stay warm,’” Calum echoes disdainfully, looking up at the roof onto which Luke had disappeared. “Do you think he knows that human clothes don’t retain heat the way superhero suits do?”

Ashton laughs and follows Calum into the lobby.

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Eight

Ao3,  Masterpost,  C.1   C.2   C.3   C.4   C.5   C.6   C.7

Relationships: queer-platonic intruality, mentioned platonic relationships.

Second chapter of the night, babe! I’m really going for it with finishing this story!! mostly no italics as is my usual, because tumblr Sucks <3 

Warnings: cursing, brief true-crime talk, sexual innuendo, depressive episodes, crying, LOTS of h/c, mentions of past neglect (ok neglect is a really strong word it isn’t that bad, but, idk what to call it), touch-starvation, honestly though this is a ridiculously fluffy chapter guys. 

Word count: 5,618

In three weeks, Patton and Remus had gone from borderline insomnia to a sleep schedule that could’ve impressed even Logan. 

And in three weeks, neither had spent a single night alone.

The talk they’d had after their first sleepover ended up leaving more of an impact than either had realized. Maybe it should’ve been expected: they were both accustomed to saying exactly what they meant, exactly how they meant it, and any sort of vow to ‘never let go’ couldn’t be used lightly for two creatures like that. 

So, independently, they both decided to be as literal as they could about it. God, were they clingy.

But it worked better than anything. There was less aching, more talking, and if they were feeling better, the whole Mindpalace improved. Something something, the delicate ecosystem of the human mind, blah blah. 

And then it worked too well. 

Neither of them really knew what had happened, or how to feel about it (it might have been sad or strange that neither had ever had anything to compare it to, but if asked, they’d both say that’s what made it so special. They’d be right to say so, of course). It was what they had, together.

It wasn’t romantic- they’d seen romantic, knew it as well as they could, didn’t care for it. But in the end who cared about semantics? It didn’t matter, the reasons why Patton stared after his friend for a little too long, or what was making it so hard for Remus not to kiss his pal smack on the lips every time he smiled. Another thing that didn’t matter was the why in response to how they still hadn’t talked about it, but… Patton and Remus had resolved that as a problem for another time.

What mattered was that it just was.

(And another thing that mattered, a little bit, was the how it had happened, and both of them understood that perfectly well.)

Remus lounged on the floor at the foot of his bed, Patton behind and above him. Patton’s fingers were working steadily through his mess of hair, while the pair half-watched TV. They didn’t agree on most shows, and neither of them were especially crazy about arguing, which meant it was twenty minutes of roundabout conversation until they stumbled across something they could mutually zone out to. Whatever. The system worked.

Remus typically preoccupied himself with drawing, painting, or carving some material into something or other (said something-or-other was almost always a knife or a dildo. Occasionally, it was both). 

Patton seemed to favor being distracted by Remus’ hair, though it wasn’t clear why. Remus hadn’t asked; it felt nice, and he was surprised that anyone would actually want to thread their fingers through those oily strings, so why question a good thing? 

Actually, a better question was why not. The thought had stuck in his mind, and he had nothing better to do- art block and all- so. Remus tossed his sketchbook to the side and twisted up to look at Patton.

“Why do you do that?”

Patton glanced down at him. “Do what?”

Remus reached up, prying Patton’s hands out of his hair and holding them up like evidence. Patton blinked at them, and okay, cute- but he looked genuinely surprised by the question. 

“Oh, playing with your hair? I mean, there’s no real reason, I guess it’s just mindless. Something to fidget with, y’know? It’s always all tangled up, too, so it’s like a little puzzle- a puzzle I probably won’t solve all the way ever, but that’s most puzzles with me to be honest,” he smiled brightly, creasing all his laugh lines just right. “Also, um, it feels nice that I get to stay touching you, even if it’s just something small,” he shrugged, sort of sheepishly. “Is that weird?”

But Remus was beaming up at him, definitely looking all sorts of stupid for it, and definitely not caring. He dropped Patton’s hands, letting them find their way back into his coils and matts of hair. 

“You’re asking the wrong guy, Sugar Cookie, but you can keep messing with my hair all you want. It probably is weird, in that case, because I like that you have your hands on me so much-” Jesus Christ it was so hard not to make a sex joke, Remus had to stifle several from breaking his train of thought. Ugh, the things he did for this man. “-And if I like something, it’s 100% freaky!”

Patton just laughed, his nose scrunching up while he ruffled Remus’ hair. 

“That’s- that’s good to know,” an index finger coiled around silver strands, and Patton’s eyes sparkled in the most literal sense, “Hey, Remus?”

Remus let his head rest on the side’s thigh, humming attentively. 

“When you say I can mess with it…”

He looked up with a delightful anticipation, grinning before Patton had even finished his sentence. 

“Can I braid your hair?” The question accompanied by a faint tug at Remus’ scalp, and the feeling of several tangles coming undone, “I’m pretty good at it. Virgil used to let me do his- not so much anymore, but, um. Anyway, yours would be long enough- or maybe longer, if I got these knots out,” he smiled, kindly, “But I know you like having it knotty, so it’s okay if you don’t want me to.”

Remus thought it over, because yeah, he was very proud of his rat’s nest. Besides, he was sure that even if it got straightened out, it’d still be just as greasy as ever- ohh, but that could be a look all on its own, couldn’t it? Maybe he could even weave some garbage into the plait! 

“Sure!” Remus assented, “The rest of me’s naughty enough to make up for the hairdo, so have at ‘er.”

Patton snorted at the pun, obviously excited to get started. When he ushered Remus to turn around, his hands easily undoing clumps of hair with surprising focus, humming to himself all the while, Remus was absolutely certain he’d made the right choice.

It was done in an hour- Patton was slow and careful about every movement. Remus didn’t really mind, though he’d try to assure Patton that it was fine to do it in a hurry, that he wasn’t so sensitive. (Patton didn’t, obviously, ignoring Remus’ comments about how it didn’t even matter because they weren’t real, and pain was a construct. Patton was stubbornly gentle, to the point that Remus couldn’t be annoyed by it. He might even say it was sweet, if he was feeling particularly sappy.)

It had also taken such time because of the decorations Patton had woven into his hair, which he insisted would be surprises. So Remus was bouncing with excitement all the way to the mirror- cuz even though he was sure it wouldn’t be anything like the live bugs, weeds, and dead flowers that he’d had in mind to thread in there himself, he knew it’d at least be pretty. Pretty wasn’t really his thing, sure, but Patton’s brand of pretty? It had grown on him.

The mirror in Remus’ room was chipped, slick with grime, and filled with silhouettes that vanished as soon as you turned around, but it worked just fine. Remus hauled himself over to it, peered in, and okay, he definitely didn’t mind a little bit of pretty.

“You weren’t fucking around when you said you were good at this, Morey!”

In their reflections, Remus saw Patton smile, going a bit pink around the ears. He glanced back to himself, eyes trailing appreciatively down the shoulder-length braid of dark, greasy hair. His grey streak wasn’t twisted in with the rest of the locks, instead it had been left out in front, springy and curly and giving the whole look a messier vibe. The braid itself seemed inky-slick, shot through with glittering hair clips and pins. At first, they looked like plain plastic jewels, but with closer inspection the shapes of tiny beetles, bugs, and moths were unmistakable. They were gorgeous, and probably a better call than putting actual live bugs in his hair; he was less likely to end up eating the sparkly clips, at any rate.

But if all that wasn’t enough, then there were the ribbons. Whip-thin and several in number, they sparkled with enough course glitter to impress a Las Vegas body paint artist. Some were a pukey neon green, and the rest a light, bright-

“Blue?”

Patton met Remus’ eyes, through the mirror again, and the pink slowly traveled from his ears down to his face. He shrugged, grazing the blue-and-green bow where the braid was tied off with the tips of his fingers. 

“I guess I got a little carried away,” he smiled lightly, “I thought it looked nice, with the green.”

Remus looked away from the glass, “You’re not wrong about that,” he muttered.

Patton shrugged, not quite making his eyes. 

“You can take those ones out, if you want to.”

That- the way Patton went flustered and shy and he’d put his colors on Remus- it gave the Duke a very strong urge to do something. The urge pulled at his chest, feeling like cracked ribs in the best way, and it really wasn’t fucking around when it wrapped around his heart and squeezed so tight it felt like it was forcing all the blood right out of him. 

Remus was used to impulses, and the powerful, mind-halting swells of emotion, but this was new and fun and it had jumped out of nowhere even for him. He was staring at Patton, and he had the urge to do something. He would’ve done it, too, if only he knew what the fuck it was that he wanted. 

It had to do with Patton. He should start there, probably.

“I’m gonna keep them in, duh,” Remus replied, finally, and his voice was way louder than it needed to be, “Wouldn’t wanna fuck up the look.” 

Patton glanced at him, smiling self-consciously, and his hand lowered from Remus’ hair to rest on his shoulder. For a moment Remus felt blind, vision white-out and trouble breathing, from whatever the fuck he was feeling, and he just didn’t know what to do.

Then Patton laughed, his ocean eyes squinted, and the burning impulse plummeted to an ache. A giddy, unfamiliar kind of ache. A manageable ache. 

Remus resolved to forget it. He had lots of instincts, and urges, and God knew that not even half of them made sense. It had left, that was what mattered, and he could enjoy the rest of his day with his friend.

He’d never been the type to worry, anyway.

There were days that Patton just… couldn’t make it out of bed. He tried, he really did, but he could only go for so long before it all started crumbling. He’d wake up, and something would just feel wrong, and he’d know that it was a doomed day, but he still made the stubborn effort to save it. Because each time he thought, maybe he’d beat it, maybe he’d make the best of it- and sometimes he did, but most of the time he made it as far as breakfast, and then he was right back in his room by noon to let the depressive episode take over.

So yeah. It was one of Those Days. 

Patton laid in bed, propped up on pillows and stuffed animals with his unfocused eyes staring just above the television. Bad days had been getting rare, and naively, Patton had thought that meant it was over for good. When he woke up that morning, Remus barely stirring beside him, the empty feeling inside was almost ignorable. 

He’d stayed above it for all of two-and-a-half hours before retreating to his room again, this time on his own.

Patton was always alone when he got in one of his moods, and he knew it was better that way. He was no fun at all, just a sad sack of blah, and he knew just how intolerable he ended up being. He couldn’t even tolerate himself.

So each time Patton would tell the other sides that he needed some space alone, and of course they respected that. Roman always hugged him before he left. Virgil checked on him every now and then. Logan, without fail, sent him extra plushies (and sweet snacks, however much he disapproved of unhealthy eating, because he knew how much sugar cheered Patton up). It didn’t fix the ache, but it helped, knowing that people were worried about him. 

But, back to that particular day; the day that left Patton huddled up at the head of his bed with blank, glazed-over eyes; the first day of its kind since Remus had been staying with him. 

It had gotten… harder, somehow. The fact that it had been gone for so long, and he’d been so optimistic, but now it was all back… 

Patton buried his face in the soft fabric of a teddy bear, shaking and crying and feeling so, so, cold.

It went on for a few horrible, horrible minutes, and then there were noises that definitely weren’t sobs. Down the hall; the slamming of a door, followed by distant muttering, and then excited footsteps. Heavy, clunky footsteps. Sounds that brought back acute deja vu, and had Patton glancing up just in time to realize what was about to happen. 

His door swung open, and Remus was grinning at him from the entrance. Patton struggled to put on a smile in time, scrubbing frantically at his eyes. 

“Hey! It’s, like, two o’clock, are you ready?”

Patton blinked up at him, partially in confusion, partially to try and stop the flow of tears. “Ready…?” 

Remus’ face fell a little, and he came forwards into the room. 

“Yeah…” Remus shut the door behind him- with less force than usual- and sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed. He stared intently at Patton, frown deepening all the while, pupils flitting around as he seemed to take in every detail of his friend’s condition. Patton wanted to squirm. “We were gonna- are you okay?” 

He stared dumbly at Remus for a second more, and then it clicked: they had plans today. He could barely remember what they were supposed to do- they’d been talking so quick, so excited, so happy- but Patton was pretty sure it had to do with a new creation of Remus’. 

Which was… something he definitely, definitely didn’t have the energy for. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Patton sat up straight, trying desperately to stop trembling, “I completely forgot, I just- um- I don’t know if I can make it today.”

That sounded bad, didn’t it? Wouldn’t that be the icing on top of the cake, if he hurt Remus’ feelings just because he was wallowing for basically no reason. It probably wouldn’t even be that bad if he sucked it up and went along with it anyway- except Janus kept insisting how bad self-sacrifice was, but- what else was he supposed to do!?

“Oh, it’s okay,” Remus said, not sounding hurt at all. “I’d be more pissed if I thought you were just bailing, and I know you don’t do that, Pat. Plus, you’re obviously upset, so don’t worry about it.”

  Patton glanced up to find him still staring, somehow more intense than before, and much closer than before. He looked- he looked worried. Not upset. Worried. 

“Oh,” Patton looked away again, unable to stand the scrutiny, “Okay.” 

A hand slipped into his, prying open his clenched fist, and he had to stifle a gasp at the touch. Temperature shock, that was the best word for it. Patton shivered. 

“Can I help you?”

Patton’s eyes went wide at the sweet sincerity in Remus’ voice, the way he said it as plainly and openly as he’d say anything else. Even if it wasn’t a big deal, really, with Patton’s emotions in the state that they were, while he was in his room of all places, anything could send him breaking down again.

“I- I don’t, um-” he blinked furiously, had done that a lot since Remus found him; it was beginning to make him feel dizzy. “Nothing’s really wrong…” 

Remus squeezed his hand. 

“Well, what isn’t really wrong?” 

“What?”

“You said nothing’s ‘really’ wrong, so, what’s wrong-but-not-really?”

Patton tipped his head to the side, for a moment more confused than he was aching. “How do you mean?”

But Remus just rolled his eyes- not unkindly- and shrugged. 

“So, you don’t know why you’re all… sad,” the emphasis made Patton wince, “But I figure that being sad at all usually makes other things wrong, too, and I can help with those things! For example-” he pitched forwards suddenly, ruby-reds wide and searching. He sniffed at Patton (probably not for any kind of actual inspection, but it made him laugh, and judging from Remus’ proud little smirk that had been on purpose.) “You had anything to eat? Or, uh, water? Those are supposed to be important.”

Oh, right. That. 

Patton leaned away, pulling his hand out of Remus’ grasp as he flushed abashedly. But he didn’t- well, he wasn’t going to lie to Remus.

“I guess I haven’t, no,” he tried to laugh it off- this didn’t have to be a thing, it didn’t have to be serious, if he kept laughing. If he got Remus to laugh.

But Remus was already standing, and that brought up another very effective solution; if Patton was being depressing, maybe he would just get sick of it and go. 

“Okay, we’ll start there! Wait here, I’ll be back in- ten minutes? Sure, that’s how long it takes to make food,” Remus was muttering half to himself, but it sure as heck didn’t sound like leaving.

“Oh, you don’t have to get me anything!” Patton insisted, because if Remus wasn’t escaping yet, then he wasn’t going to mooch off of his generosity. “Thanks for the reminder, I’ll- I’ll make sure to grab something soon.”

Remus stopped by the door, tipped his head from one side to the other, pretending to think it over.

“Hm. Nah.”

Patton tried to stand, and found that he was somehow too weak for even that much.

“Remus, please, I- I can’t even eat the same stuff as you, anyway! Don’t go through all that trouble for little old me,” he was edging on frantic, and he didn’t know why he was fighting so hard against receiving needed help, but it probably had something to do with Catholicism. 

Remus looked completely bewildered- a funny look, for him- and said:

“I mean, I wasn’t about to feed you hygiene products, or ceramic, or whatever. I know that I eat weird shit, Pat, that’s kind of the point- but I still know how to make a sandwich? And I know how to hold a cup under the sink so that water goes in it?” 

His voice took on a gently mocking tone. Patton glanced away, sheepish, and couldn’t find a response to that beyond a short nod.

Which was all Remus needed as the go-ahead, darting out of the room and down the stairs before Patton could argue any further. 

Patton stared after him, listened to him bustling around downstairs, and tried to feel comforted. He fell back against his pillows, breathing slow and concentrated. He was still shaking, with his previous exhaustion coming back full force. Some of the light-headedness, certainly, had to be due to the lack of eating, but he was unfortunately sure that it wasn’t even the half of it.

Patton was conflicted: He had to tell Remus that he was okay, as soon as he returned. Say thanks for the food, that it had helped, and they could spend time together tomorrow, Patton would promise. Get Remus away before it got bad, before the dam he’d built so carefully behind his eyes fell and the blue of them spilled out for hours. 

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie about his feelings- he knew it was bad for him, and he couldn’t keep doing it, not to someone’s face. Not somebody he cared about so much.

He wanted to let Remus stay, beg him to stay if he had to, just so he didn’t have to dig up all his long-buried emotions on his own. He wanted to pull him in and beg for help, even though he knew nothing had managed to help him before, and it was so futile. 

When the door opened some ten minutes later, Patton didn’t sit up. He didn’t even look up, scared he’d cry if he so much as moved his eyes in his own skull. 

“Hey.”

The sound of the door shutting, followed by those heavy footsteps. A soft thunk, presumably the plate of food being placed on his bedside table. Then the mattress dipped beside him, springs creaking. 

“Hey,” Remus said again, “Look at me.”

Patton rolled his head tentatively to the side. Remus was sitting with him, looking at him, his expression twisted up and solemn in all the worst ways. Patton felt the dam begin to crumble. 

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “I know, I know that I’m no fun when I’m like this, and we were supposed to have fun today, and I just can’t do it. I can’t, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, but if you stay here when I’m-” he broke, clamping a hand around his mouth as a sob wracked his body.. “When I’m like this, I’m just gonna ruin your day more.”

That sad look, the one that had no place being in Remus’ expression, sharpened and widened until he looked almost angry. He crawled over to Patton, prying the side’s hand away from his face and cupping his cheek, gently, all the while that scowl was in place. 

“Do you want me to go?”

Patton could barely speak, knowing that he’d just blubber and blubber, but Remus was holding him up by the shoulders and peering down at him so patiently, so carefully.

“I- I-”

“Do you want to be alone?”

He couldn’t- he couldn’t keep lying.

Patton sucked in a breath.

“No.”

Remus grinned at him proudly, pulling back until he was kneeling. He spread his arms out, an offering that Patton had become intimately familiar with. Patton pulled himself up, shaking, incredulous despite the familiarity of the situation.

“Then you don’t have to be.”

And Patton pitched forward, right into Remus’ arms, clutching and crying and trembling like a leaf.

Distantly, he knew that he was still babbling apologies. Insisting that the Duke could leave as soon as he wanted, that Patton felt this way so often and he knew he couldn’t possibly expect comfort every time, a million other sentences that ran over and into each other which only seemed to make Remus clutch him tighter. 

“It’s okay,” Remus told him.

“It’s- It’s not, I don’t even have a- a reason to be so-” a hiccup, “- upset. It’s not like last time, when you found me- I don’t even have a bad excuse, I’m just- just-”

“Shut the fuck up,” somehow, even that sounded caring. “Somebody as Hello Kitty Wholesome as you’s got no business saying such bad shit about himself.”

Patton tried to apologize again. 

“Easy, Sugar, I’ve got you.”

Patton shuddered.

“When it gets bad like this, just tell me, alright?” Remus’ hands traced up and down his spine, across his shoulder blades, down his sides, warm and full and adoring. The smile in his voice was audible, “I’m gonna take care of you.”

And when Patton heard that, it was like a broken bone being set. Not fully mended, but held together enough that it could begin to heal the right way, of its own hard work, and come back twice as strong still. Remus held him so strong and it felt like a cast. 

Patton’s breakdowns were blurred memories at best, but he couldn’t have gotten that promise out of his head even if he wanted to. 

It was an achingly uneventful afternoon. Everything in the Mindpalace felt just a little out of focus, a little gray, and nothing much was going to change that except the day ending. Plain and simple, Thomas was Out Of It- and so, of course, were his sides.

On the whole it wasn’t a big deal, but it did make it downright impossible to finish any substantial work beyond menial, autopilot tasks. And creativity? Particularly for Remus, who more-or-less needed his human at full attention in order to have any creative power, it was totally hopeless. 

He wasn’t the kind of guy to work on half-power, to put it mildly. 

So, what did Remus do, when he had even less of an outlet than usual? It shouldn’t surprise you that the answer is literally anything, if it got people to pay attention to him and make him feel real again (which he wasn’t, actually, but let’s leave the semantics to Logan). What that usually amounted to- these days, at least- was talking, and talking, and more talking, and eventually somebody would probably react to something he said. Ideally. 

So on that particular gray-day, Remus sprawled himself out on the couch and waited for the first person who came by to trap in a very one-sided conversation. 

Said first person was Patton, as it happened, which was just Remus’ luck. He didn’t bother hiding how excited he was about it; Patton had always been his favorite target- of course, it was for a very, very different reason nowadays. 

Patton sat down with him as soon as he was waved over, propping a coloring book open on his knee and smiling warmly. His unoccupied hand went to wind through Remus’ hair, though, to make it abundantly obvious that despite his distraction he wasn’t ignoring the other.

Remus grinned at him, and started rambling immediately. 

And he- well, he wouldn’t really call it talking to himself, because he didn’t have a fucking clue what he was saying. But he wasn’t talking to Patton either, because that kinda defeats the purpose of a one-sided conversation. 

Which he didn’t mind. He wasn’t even listening to himself, he just needed to talk, and Patton wasn’t complaining. Remus was probably saying something unsavory, and still, there wasn’t any kind of flinching or interrupting. Patton even mhm’d and yeah’d every now and then, which was an entirely unnecessary reassurance. But Remus thought it was adorably considerate, and briefly entertained the idea of replacing that sweet little coloring book in Patton’s lap with his own self, to get some proper attention. 

(He would have, too, if he wasn’t so sure that he’d blurt out something very lewd in his stream-of-consciousness kind of mood, with a position like that, and he wasn’t sure if Patton could handle it at the moment. Morality always got a little out of whack on gray-days, too, so- loathe as Remus was to say it- better safe than sorry). 

Remus fell into the rhythm of it for, what, twenty minutes? He was bad with time, but- all he knew was he was thinking about Albert Fish, and talking about an entirely different serial killer out loud (Gacy? Bundy? It was definitely someone infamous), when the hand in his hair suddenly stilled. Patton wasn’t looking at him, either.

Remus glanced around, still talking, to find Logan standing in the kitchen doorway, staring expectantly at Patton. 

“I need you to accompany me outside for a moment. There’s something important that we-”

Patton cut him off with a wave, “Hang on for a second, Teach.” 

Logan obliged, looking bemused, and Patton turned his attention back to the still-tangenting Remus. Who was totally checked out, for the record. 

“Hey,” Patton rested a hand on his shoulder, smiling warmly, “Pause?”

And Remus, surprised, did as asked. He didn’t care about what was going on around him, but he liked that smile, and the eyes focused in on him, so he sat up properly and tried to be quiet. Especially considering those were the first actual words Patton had said to him since he’d sat down. 

“I’m gonna go see what they need real quick,” Patton went on, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, and you can finish telling me about Dennis Rader then-” So that was who! “Kay?” 

Remus stared mutely at him for an embarrassing number of seconds. He eventually managed a short nod, some vague utterances of yeah, sure, go ahead, before Patton was out the door with Logan, and he was left reeling on the couch. 

Remus felt a little bit like worms had eaten holes in his brain like swiss cheese, leaving him airy-headed and dizzy. All his organs felt wormy, in fact- squirming and sick and excited about something that really shouldn’t have been a big deal- but! It was!!!

Cuz Patton had been listening? Remus wasn’t even listening! He was probably barely coherent, and he’d been at it for twenty fucking minutes, and- and-

God! He just wanted to grab that stupid adorable head of Patton’s and! He didn’t even know! Do Something, something disgusting in the nice way, something deplorably PG and lovey-dovey and- Ugh! 

Remus buried his face in his hands and groaned. He felt like a goddamn schoolgirl- and not the hentai kind, for a change, but the hopelessly infatuated, cutesy type. Feelings that were gushy, giddy, affectionately bloody. 

It was the straw that broke the camel's spine. Urges and instincts and wants that Remus hadn’t been able to name coalesced into a neon sign in his mind, flaring the answer like it’d been obvious the whole time:

Was it a crush? Remus didn’t know a better word for it, even if it wasn’t- he just knew that he was pining, and for somebody he was happy to call his friend either way. And, huh. Weird. He didn’t know he could do that. 

“I’m back, I’m back!” Patton came scrambling back into the room, jolting Remus out of his thoughts, “Sorry about that, it was- well, it’s not a big deal, something happened with The Memories and- it’s fine now- anyway, what were you saying?”

He was chattering fast, even by Remus’ Standards, an apologetic smile on his face as he sat down and settled all his attention on the Duke. 

Remus said: “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” and wondered if he’d always been that shrill? Or was he being too quiet? What did his voice sound like again?? “I, uh, I don’t remember what I was talking about.”

Patton frowned at him, and looked about ready to apologize again, and he couldn’t very well have that. So, he babbled:

“Right, it was Rader? Um. Yeah,” but that was so far out of his mind by that point, and how did people ever talk while saying things and thinking other things! “Not much to say, ya know. Killed some people, got arrested, the usual.”

“Since when don’t you give me the graphic details?” Patton complained, “That’s your favorite part!” 

“I think I’ll spare you the nightmares this time, Morey! It’s, uhm, it’s your turn to talk.” 

“Oh, hush,” and Patton laughed, shooting Remus an encouraging, coaxing smile that made him just want to debone himself. “Those serial killer stories you like so much aren’t the nightmare fuel they used to be. You know why?”

Remus felt like the inside of his skin was full of spikes. Not in a bad way. 

“...Why?” 

“Because,” Patton said, like he was all too eager to explain himself, “I can’t really be scared of them when the scariest thing is what’s in bed with me.”

Remus flushed. Like, actually-  heat crawled across his face and over his ears, and he honestly had no clue the last time something or someone had made him blush. But Patton, acknowledging his scare-factor while somehow making it obvious he felt only safe with him, was apparently what ticked that box. 

“Right,” chirped Remus, “That’s- me!”

“Of course it is, Silly,” Patton bumped their shoulders together, smiling like he had no idea what he was doing- and to be honest, he probably didn’t.

Remus drank in the contact, happily using it as an excuse to wrap his arms around Patton and pull him closer. He buried his face in Patton’s shoulder, because as far as his impulses told him, he should either get the fuck away A.S.A.P. or drag Patton in as close as possible and not let go. Obviously, Remus had a preference. 

“You- uh- I was being serious though,” ugh, God, stuttering was so goddamn annoying- how did Virgil cope? “You should talk. I’m- I’m sorta overwhelmed.”

That was the truth, or part of it. Admitting it out loud at least managed to take some of the power out of it.

Patton immediately cooed at him- it should have been annoying; it wasn’t- and wrapped him up in his arms properly, muttering little of courses and do you need anything?s. Remus melted into him, finally claiming that spot in his lap (and any jokes his mind might have had about that were long gone, by then), shaking his head and glowing under the attention. 

Of course Patton was happy- after making sure that Remus was alright- to do some of the talking. He talked about his day, what he wanted to do later, or tomorrow, and of cute things that he’d seen, and a hundred other inconsequential Patton-isms. 

Remus was unused to sitting and listening, but with him… it wasn’t as bad as the Duke remembered it being. 

Oh, he was so fucking fucked. 

Chapter Nine

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @donnieluvsthings @glitter-skeleton-uwu @intruxiety @gayformlessblob @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @thefivecalls

[zodiyack]

Phantom Of The Opera

Requested by anon: Just wanna say that you're my favorite writer on Tumblr! ❤️ I have a strange request. Could you make one Thomas ShelbyxReader based on The Phantom of the Opera? The reader performs in a fancy theater and a man, the theater's ghost, is obsessed with her. And the Peaky Blinders have to wait for the performance to catch him 'cause he's a freaking ghost (Point of No Return scene) I don't know if you ever watched The Phantom of the Opera, but I can send you another message with more info if you want

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader

Warnings: Swearing, mention of stalking, smoking and alcohol, fluff, angst, mention of murder(?), slightly straying? idk man

Note: I’ve never seen the movie, so I’m not gonna be completely accurate, but it’s not supposed to be EXACTLY the movie, so I guess that’s okay? I hope you guys like it! Also.. don’t mind the singing parts... 😅 

so basically, it’s like the movie but there are MAJOR differences... oops

Special addition to the note!: I had some help!! Thank you so much @jenepleurepasbaby​ for the ideas as well as information from the movie, I can’t thank you enough!

Word count: 3,000+

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @stydia-4-ever, @matth1w, @redspaceace, @jenepleurepasbaby, @simonsbluee

masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist

She adjusted her hair as the director dismissed everyone. Their practice was now cut short, dark coming closer and closer. Arthur was her ride, yet he lie asleep, and possibly drunk, in one of the seats. Y/n sighed, grabbing bunches of her large white dress. Her friends bid her goodnight as they walked out of the building, leaving Y/n and her lover’s unconscious brother alone and in silence.

Y/n was unsure of her part. Although they just practiced, she felt the need to go over a bit more. Arthur managed to sleep through the entire rehearsal, so who’s to say he wouldn’t sleep through her singing? She would need to wake him up anyway. So she sang, went over her parts, fell into the melody.

That was, until she heard it.

Until she heard him.

The rough organ, the voice. They clicked into her brain, her voice slipping and dropping silent. It took her by surprise. Though she stopped, the voice kept singing. He sounded beautiful, elegant, more perfect for the singing role of her on stage lover than the singing partner selected for said role was.

“Sir?” No response came to Y/n, but the man continued singing. She looked around, checking on Arthur in his intoxicated yet peaceful state, and then starting her mission. She wished to find the voice, so she followed it.

The louder it got, the bigger the pit in her stomach grew. It was a pit of nothing but fear and worry. She didn’t have Tommy with her, and Arthur was asleep, she knew she would need to be careful. Her hand wandered down to her side. Under the thick fabric of her gown, holster from Polly made specifically to hide on her garter clips, was a small gun.

A breath she didn’t realize she was holding released itself from her mouth, relief at the feeling of the cold metal. She hoped she would have no need to use it, but it was good to be cautious.

His singing was now echoing through the hall, signing his presence. Y/n turned and gasped slightly out of shock. She let her eyes study the figure in front of her, the white mask that donned the side of his face, his slicked back hair, the way his voice sounded...

It was almost like his voice was magic. Her eyes gleamed with an entranced look, like she wasn’t fully there.

His free hand reached for hers and before she could top herself, she slipped her palm into his. He stopped singing, leading her through the theater to wherever he was to take her. She couldn’t stop herself, it was hard enough to even thinking in her own voice with his angelic voice.

Now that she heard him in person, she realized she’d heard him many times before. She’d heard him in her dreams, the same voice haunting her, no matter it’s beauty. He called for her, summoning her to a place she had no knowledge of. 

The stories of the theater dubbed him the Phantom of the Opera, the ghost who would kill those who refused to do his bidding. 

“Reminds me of a certain family.” She remembered telling the story to Tommy and the other Peaky Blinders, referencing their work with teasing smile.

His voice summoned her ever since the first performance she’d ever done at this very theater, a man standing on the rafters and observing her rather intensely. However, she was not the one to spot him that time, instead a backstage worker. He pointed out the man, but Arthur assumed he was just drunk and told Y/n to just ignore it.

Oh how wrong he was.

The half-masked man seemed to have such a power, casting a spell on her and removing logic from her mind. Her face lit up by the torch in his hand as he led her down a staircase. A horse waited down

“Sing once again with me, our strange duet. My power over you, grows stronger yet.” He lifted her onto the horse and guided the dark steed down a ramp-like walkway. “And though you turn from me, to glance behind, the Phantom of the Opera, is there inside your mind.”

He helped Y/n off the horse, held her hand as he helped her into the small row boat. He rowed through the water, closer and closer to his lair. She didn’t know why, but she felt the urge to join in. Was it his spell? Making her feel this way?

“Those who have seen your face, draw back in fear.” It was definitely him. She couldn’t think of a time she’d ever sing something like this, aside from her performances. “I am the mask you wear,”

“It’s my voice they hear.” He continued to sing as she transferred to the operatic vocalizing. The masked Phantom encouraged her, stopping his song and listening to her breathtaking voice. “Sing, my angel of music!”

“Sing my angel...Sing for me!” She grew louder the closer they got, the grate lifting and allowing them entry to his underground lair. “Sing my angel! Sing for me!!” Y/n hit her final high note, cutting herself off as they came to a stop. The candles, which had risen from the foggy waters, were just now being processed with mild confusion. The events prior to her arrival in his hideaway were catching up to her, equally as mysterious.

“Listen my dear. Can you hear that?”

“Hear what?” The Phantom held her hand, helping her out of the boat.

“The organ, of course. I’ve played it for you, in hopes that you’d listen and find your way to me. And that, you did.”

“You were... playing it... for me?” Y/n raised her eyebrows curiously. He nodded, walking over and playing a few notes to the song she had been rehearsing before she wounded up in his secret home. “W-Why?”

“What better way to prove my love for you?”

Her mind gave itself a slap to the face, returning herself to full consciousness, the hypnotic state the Phantom had her in was nowhere to be found. “Excuse me?”

“Is there a problem? I’m simply stating my admiration for you. My undying heart, it beats only for you, and your marvelous voice. That man, the one who sent the other with you, he has no love for you. His heart holds no care nor affection for you. Alas, that is one thing he and I do not have in common.” The Phantom’s lips curled into a smile, a child-like innocence that could’ve tricked Y/n’s back into her trance.

But it didn’t. She pushed him away from her, making sure to not be too rough. “Why!? Why would you say such a thing!? You trick me into following you, just to reveal you wanted to rid me of my lover?”

“No, not just that-”

“Have you lost your mind?! I’m sorry, I can’t. It was a pleasure meeting you, dear Phantom, but I’m afraid I simply cannot except any offers you have. Your love is flattering, but my heart belongs to the one who actually does love me back.” Her hands gripped her dress again, pulling it up enough for her to move back to the row boat.

However, she couldn’t make it to the small boat on time. He grabbed her arm and yanked her towards him, forcing her to face him. “Please, Y/n, just let me prov-”

“How do you know my name?” A silence split between the two. He didn’t answer her question. She looked up at him slowly, curiosity overtaking her. He was distracted, unaware, it as the perfect time to strike. She reached for his mask, snatching it, but being pushed to the ground before she could see his face.

He growled, covering the side with his hand, screaming insults at her as she remained on the ground with wide eyes. She was too shocked to move. The push managed to take the breath from her lungs, resulting in small coughs when she tried to stand up.

“I- I’m sorry.” She reached for his cheek, the action startling him. He stumbled backwards, he reached forwards slowly when she held out his mask, ripping it from her hands. “Please, could you take me back to the theater?”

He didn’t respond. His own way of saying no.

“I’ll... um... I’ll be going then.”

He didn’t stop her. He wanted to, but he didn’t. Besides, she had a performance coming up, did she not?

. . .

“Y/n has called a family meeting!” Arthur stomped over to his chair, sitting and crossing his arms as he waited for the rest of his family.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No, Pol, I’m fine...”

Arthur groaned and rolled his eyes. “Yesterday. Theater. Stalker. Tell them, Y/n.”

The family’s eyes shifted from Y/n to Arthur, then back to Y/n after he finished his sentence. “Fine. There was...a man... Um... Remember the ‘drunken man’ from my first performance?”

Everyone nodded. Esme stepped in, receiving a short glance from John, “What happened? Did your stalker try to kill you or something?”

“No no no, he wouldn’t do that.” The calmed family turned to Y/n with concern and confusion. Y/n looked at each one of them, anticipating their reactions. More specifically, Tommy’s. Jealousy and anger surged throughout his body, and somehow, everyone could tell. Jumping out of her chair, she walked over to him and pecked his lips reassuringly, “No, I’m not in love with him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Alright alright, Tommy, stop being jealous, Y/n, we must be getting back to the point. Please explain what this meeting is for?”

“Ah yes,” She sat back down. “He um... well he took me somewhere. It was like..under the theater? I sang with him... he called me his ‘angel of music’, and he said my name...”

“What else did he do?” Tommy’s jaw clenched.

“He wouldn’t take me back, so I went back myself. He um... well he did do um.. something...”

Arthur slammed his cup onto the table, standing up quickly, ignoring the wide eyed glares from Linda and Polly. “Oh get bloody on with it! It’s not like you slept with him or something!”

“Damn it Arthur! Could you please just give her some fucking time!?”

“T-thank you, Pol... but Arthur’s right. The man... he... confessed.”

Lizzie was the one to react first this time. She seemed mentally absent from the conversation until the confession had been mentioned, her jaw dropping and eyes popping. “Confessed what?”

“His love. For- for me. I left at that point. He tried to tell me Tommy didn’t love me, but no words from anyone could ever make me believe that. It felt like he put me into some from of trance until then, which I snapped myself out of once he brought up love.”

Tommy started for the door, gun in hand, but was stopped by Y/n. “Please, just... just leave this be... let the coppers handle it, it’ll be alright.”

“Alright? Alright? All-fucking-right?” the blue eyed man pointed to the door, the veins in his hands were bulging. “Out there is a man who is stalking you, obsessing over you, and possibly targeting me so he can take you. And you’re gonna tell me it’ll be ‘alright’?”

“Tom... to be fair, you are being a little ov-”

“Ada, don’t you dare finish that fucking sentence. Tommy’s right.” If looks could kill, Arthur would be long gone by now. “When it first happened, she asked us to wait until it happened more, then it did. But she still didn’t want us to do anything. This time she had an in-person encounter with the creep, and she wants us to wait for coppers?”

He turned to Y/n, “Arthur’s correct. We waited, just as you asked, and now, it’s extreme. Please...” He returned his gun to it’s holster, taking her face in his hands, “let us deal with this.”

“I-” Her e/c orbs glanced around the room, zooming from person to person before giving in and locking eyes with the man in front of her and relaxing into his touch. “Okay... just, don’t hurt him. He seemed so... alone.”

“We can’t promise anything, but we’ll try our best. We’ll all come to the show, and we’ll be your protection, alright?” She nodded and kissed him back as he pressed his lips to hers softly. “Now, let’s get home.”

“Thank you everyone... I’m sorry about-”

“No.” Y/n’s head snapped up, quirking an eyebrow to Polly’s interruption. “Don’t be sorry. It’s gonna be okay. Get some rest, you have quite a performance to prepare for.” With that, she winked and smiled, waving goodbye to Y/n and Tommy as they exited the Betting Shop. She was right. They had a big day tomorrow, and there was no time for messing around.

. . .

As she sang, her eyes were focused on the audience, darting around in search for her lover and his family. The Peaky Blinders weren’t that hard to miss, but they soon became so when The Phantom entered onto the stage where her partner should’ve. She noticed quite quickly, the difference in vocal ranges, the height and figure differences. She would be lying if she were to say she didn’t feel even the slightest bit of fear.

Their voices danced together, the trance returning to her, her body and mind betraying her. The Phantom walked closer, lust filled his eyes, the trance-like-state forcing the same into hers. Tommy, in his seat, gripped his gun. Patience escaped him, replaced with burning jealousy and rage.

“When will the blood begin to race, the sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last, consume us?”

They began towards each other. Arthur nudged Tommy’s shoulder, gesturing to some of the cast peaking from behind the curtain, obviously puzzled with Y/n’s singing partner. All the proof they needed that he was the man they were watching for.

Their voices joined, “Past the point of no return! The final threshold!” Tommy’s hold on his weapon grew tighter as Y/n and The Phantom closed the distance between their bodies. The stranger spun Y/n around and wrapped his arms around her stomach, his hands over hers. “The bridge is crossed, so stand, and watch it burn...”

Like a bull to a red flag, the sight of The Phantom’s wandering right hand traveling up Y/n’s chest and to her neck brought darkness to his eyes. “We've passed the point, of no return...”

Although the song was due to end there, The Phantom had other plans.

Y/n’s eyes opened as The Phantom’s voice continued. She was waking herself up, realizing her state and snapping out of it.

“Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime... Lead me, save me, from my solitude... Say you want me with you, here beside you, anywhere you go, let me go too -  Y/n, That's all I ask of-”

He was interrupted by the screams of the audience. Y/n did what she needed to do. She had pulled the black mask free of his face, revealing to the audience just who he really was. Thomas took the screams as his cue and pulled his gun from it’s holster. He didn’t move, instead, he waited for a sign that would tell him that it was necessary. He preferred Y/n get out of this alive.

She looked to the Phantom with sorry emotion, genuine sympathy and hurt in her e/c orbs. The Phantom returned her reaction. He couldn’t be mad at her, but that wouldn’t stop him from having her.

Out of his peripheral vision, he noticed the coppers racing to the stage, pushing past people. He immediately grabbed hold of Y/n’s waist, as tight as he could, and cut the string to the enormous chandelier.

Tommy jumped up, alerting his family, directing each person to move out of the way. He froze, watching Y/n and The Phantom fall from the bridge, and into the ground. Tommy surged forward, leaning over the railing and screaming in agony, forced to watch the stalker escape through a hole in the ground with the love of his life. Polly, Michael, and Arthur grabbed Tommy, trying to pull him back. Even Pol had tears in her eyes.

It was never meant to go this way.

When did everything go so wrong?

What did they mess up?

. . .

The three brothers found their way through waters, ending up in The Phantom’s lair. Tommy’s eyes widened. Y/n, face covered in tears, mouth shivering, frozen in fear, stood there, next to The Phantom, in a wedding dress. She looked gorgeous, but Tommy couldn’t let that distract him.

“What the f-”

Arthur slapped a hand over John’s mouth, quieting him before they could be caught by the pair. He looked over to his other brother, scanning the look of worry on his face. His other hand rubbed his brother’s arm comfortingly.

“Pity comes too late,” The Phantom placed a veil on Y/n’s head, “turn around and face your fate! And eternity of this!-” he pointed to the scared side of his face, “before your eyes...” He calmed himself by looking into her eyes. Erik, the Phantom, placed a ring into Y/n’s hand.

Y/n walked to a covered mirror, taking off the veil as she walked. “This haunted face,” She tore down the cover, turning to Erik. It was clear that they were no longer strangers. “Holds no horror for me now. It’s in your soul; that the true distortion lies...”

John snorted a little, finding humor in the fact that they were still singing, but quickly shut up when Erik turned his head towards the noise. It was too late, far far far too late. He smirked mischievously.

“Wait, my dear, I think we have some guests!” He switched from singing to talking.

Her eyes followed his gaze, spotting Tommy, John, and Arthur. “Tommy!” She moved forward. Tommy mirrored her and pressed himself against the portcullis.

“Sir. Or shall I say, sirs. This is indeed, an unparalleled delight! I had rather hoped that you,” he made eye contact with Tommy, “that you would come!” Erik walked down the steps, next to Y/n. “And now, my wish comes true.” He pulled Y/n into her side. Tommy flinched upon hearing and seeing Y/n’s panic caused by Erik’s actions. “You have truly made my night.”

“Let me go-”

Everything broke from Tommy’s head. It was purely in the moment. For once he was acting with his heart, rather than his brain. “Free her!” Y/n stopped and looked to him with confusion, opposite to Erik’s looks of amusement. “Do to me whatever you would like, but please! Free her!”

“Your lover makes a passionate plea.”

“Please- Tommy... it’s useless...”

“Tom! She’s right, we can’t do anything with this stupid thing in the way.” Arthur grumbled.

“I love her!” He was speaking to everyone. From the heart. “Does that mean nothing? I love her! Show some compassion-”

“The world showed no compassion to me!” The brothers and Y/n faced Erik, small signs of empathy for the red and ruined side of his face.

“Y/n. Y/n, let me see her. Let me fucking see her!” Tommy kicked the portcullis harshly, showing his demand was not to be taken as a joke.

“Be my guest, sir.” Erik smirked wider and walked to a lever. He pulled it and the portcullis began moving upwards. Before he could say more, Tommy fired random shots. He could careless if he hit The Phantom or missed, his mission was to get Y/n and then skedaddle the fuck out of there.

John and Arthur exchanged glances and nods, joining Tommy in open fire towards the man.

Tommy reached Y/n, pausing and pressing a kiss to her soft lips, closing his eyes and melting into their short kiss. After the separated, he picked her up, one arm under her knees and the other somewhere above her waist. He nodded to her. Her arms wrapped around his neck.

“John! Arthur! Cease fire! I repeat! Cease fire!”

Erik chuckled madly, “Aren’t you going to finish me?” He looked at Arthur, then his gun. “Kill me!”

Arthur raised his gun. Aimed. Inhaled.

“Stop! Don’t kill him! Let him be... please...” Y/n faced Tommy with watery eyes, “let me down for a second, please.” Thomas hesitated, but followed the orders of his significant other. She kissed him once more, then walked to Erik and shooed the brothers away from him.

“W-what’re you doing!? Y/n! T-Tom, she’s gonna get hers-”

“Leave it Arthur. Y/n knows what she’s doing. I hope.” Tommy mumbled the last sentence under his breath.

They watched as Y/n caressed the cheek of the scared side to Erik’s face, her face scrunching with visible focus. She pulled him down to her, rested her forehead against his and whispered to him.

“Angel of music... thank you for this journey... Alas, twasn’t I that was destined to join you on it.” John shouted for her to hurry, the sound of the coppers growing near. “Run, dear Phantom, run and don’t ever look back. One day the world will except you...you just can’t force it.” 

Y/n reached for his hand, opening it and placing his ring in it, then folding it shut, just as he did to her hand. He smiled at her. He finally surrendered.

Tommy walked up to them, causing Erik to move back a bit. Tom stopped in front of the man and handed him a large amount of money, smiling with a heart full of sympathy. “Run, Phantom. As far as the coppers know, you’re dead. My uncle will have a boat, board it if you’d like. Start a new life.” 

The Phantom nodded, taking the money. But. He paused. “Go. Be free, my Angel of Music. You’ve shown me nothing but kindness and care, and I thank you for that.” The unfamiliar voices neared. Erik’s eyes widened, “Hurry! Leave! Go!”

Tommy grabbed Y/n, pulling her with him as they headed into the water and tried to ran through it. Y/n turned her head, giving Erik one last look, giving him one last nod, and smiling to him for the last time. They ran out the burning theater, Moss interviewed her, writers for news companies chased after her, but everyone was shooed away by her family.

At home, Tommy cradled Y/n’s cheeks, looking deeply into her eyes. “I thought I lost you...”

“Well I’m here, aren’t I?” She leaned forward, mumbling against his lips, “I missed you... I love you so much Tommy.”

Tommy closed the cap between them, staying for a few minutes. Peaceful. Quiet. Still in his suit and her in the wedding gown she was forced into. “I love you too, Y/n. Very much... Maybe this dress could do some use for us. Eh?”

[spookyfloof]

Be My Escape (Ch. 9) - END

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Pairing: Shiro/Pidge (Voltron: Legendary Defender)

      Strong Language, Sexual Content [Consensual, M/F] (Warnings vary by chapter)

Summary: Amidst her growing fears for her family and the pressures of being a Paladin, Pidge’s feelings for Shiro only intensify. But is it really love, or the need to escape that’s drawing her to him?

Note: This last chapter is very....bittersweet. I just can’t resist writing angst you guys ...even though reading it hurts my soul

Thank you forever to anyone who’s stuck around to the end. You’re my favorite and I love you! 🖤💚 

(I might write something as a sequel that’ll take place after Shiro’s found in S3 or post-canon. Idk yet. Since VLD is ending this year, I’ll probably decide after watching it.)

Read on AO3

The nightmares didn't stop.

He saw her again, poised on the victim's seat while he waited to face his prosecution.

Katie's face held no hatred or contempt, only a look of despair.

His friends and family, hers even more, all glared, their eyes pointed at him like knives at his throat.

They started murmuring, the sound a hum like droning bees. Then a shout from someone on the witness stand...

…Lance?

“He's guilty! There's blood on his hands!”

He said this as though someone would have to be blind not to see it, but Shiro wasn't sure what he meant.

“Right there!” he went on and jabbed his finger further in his direction.

Shiro looked down at his sweaty palms shadowed underneath the table he sat at. He flexed his fingers... but no blood.

By some unknown force he jumped to his feet and leveled his hands on the tabletop as he did.

“Your Honor, I object!” he exclaimed to the figure in the judge's bench.

“On what grounds?”the voice asked without emotion. Everyone else's voice was distinct, some familiar, some not, yet the judge... their voice was nebulous, neither foreign nor familiar. Their face was both hidden and yet somehow unimpeded.

Shiro moved to show his hands, but found them stuck.

He looked down, faced with the image of red seeming to ooze from his fingers. He tugged, trying to pry himself away, but did so in vain. Panic set in and his steel eyes flew to Lance and the judge.

“Your Honor, please!” he said, but despite no discernible features, he could tell the figure had no sympathy for him. If anything, impatience.

Still, he tried. “This is a mistake!”

He tugged again, but they wouldn't budge and the puddle only grew bigger, threatening to spill off the table and onto his feet.

Lance and the others scowled, the chatter picking up once again.

Pidge said nothing, did nothing. Until now, she didn't even acknowledge him.

But then, only then, she turned to him, though the movement was stiff and unnatural. Her eyes, big and brown and glossy trained on him and he froze.

She opened her mouth as though time had slowed to a crawl. Then her eyes turned hard, callous and unforgiving, and out of her mouth the judge's voice, “Overruled!”

And the gavel slammed down, booming in his ear.

He started awake to Pidge in one of his shirts and what looked like basketball shorts clutching her left foot and her face screwed in a tight grimace.

“Ahh... Fuck!” she hissed.

“Pidge?”

She hopped over to the far edge of the bed where she knelt and massaged her toes.

“Sorry. I was trying not to wake you up...” she explained like it a confession. “Just going to the bathroom.”

He blinked and rubbed at the inner corners of his eyes with the fingers of his synthetic hand.

“That's fine,” he said, his voice coarse from sleep. He cleared his throat, “What happened?”

“Stubbed my toe.” She squeezed her smallest toe in emphasis.

“Are you okay?”

Her stance was awkward and she seemed reluctant to sit down.

“I'm fine. Go back to sleep.”

She got up, continuing to face him as she did. He was about to question her, but she gave him that smile again, the one from only hours ago...

–

Everything had been perfect, as perfect as it could be, but their peace, their fantasy of normalcy came to a grinding halt.

He should've known.

He should've known from the way the light didn't reflect in her eyes. The way her bangs were always in the way, hiding how her smiles didn't reach her eyes.

He should have seen it, but he didn't. None of them did.

Her mouth was dry.

Her knees were planted on either side of his naked hips, and in the dark, with only the faint light of this planet's moon seeping through the window, she remembered thinking he was somehow even more gorgeous.

Shiro caressed her legs as he watched her too, noting how taut her muscles were and how her fingers curled on his stomach.

“We don't have to if it hurts-”

“No!” she said with a little too much force. It did hurt, but she didn't want to stop. She'd gone this far, she wasn't about to give up now.

She pressed down a little more, gaining almost no ground.

“Pidge, it's okay, really,” he tried to assure her, but she wouldn't have it.

“Shiro, please!”

Her voice cracked on her frustration and the edge of something he didn't recognize at the time. He merely sighed, saying nothing, his hands continuing to glide over her skin.

He should've stopped her.

Pidge's chest rose and fell. She wanted this more than anything, she reminded herself, so why....?

Eventually, Shiro sat himself up, his lips meeting hers and cupped her face in his hands.

“You really are beautiful, Katie,” he thought to himself, knowing any comments would only frustrate her further.

He brushed her bangs out of her eyes still downcast and focused on the task at hand. He kissed one of her eyelids and she blinked, granting him only a glance in return.

He smiled at that – she never did like to be interrupted when she was focused on something.

Pidge sucked in a breath and steeled herself, her eyes closed.

“Relax, Pidge...relax. Just get it over with,” she willed. Then to both their surprise, she forced herself down, letting Shiro pierce her in one swift motion.

His eyes went wide as saucers, but Pidge threw herself into his chest before he could see hers.

Shiro had to say something now. Her entire body had turned to steel in his arms. And her walls were so tight around him it almost hurt.

“Katie?” he whispered and tilted his head to try to get a good look at her.

She grimaced, but refused to so much as whimper despite the stabbing pain inside her.

“I'm fine,” she whispered back, “Please... let me do this.”

Gently, she pushed him back onto the mattress and he gave in, still trying to search her face for any sign something was wrong.

She moved her body up and down, her movements stiff but determined. He would be a liar not to admit it'd started to feel good. God, she was so tight and warm and slick. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed sex.

He wasn't sure how long he could last at this rate.

“Fuck...Katie...” The words drifted from his lips like a prayer.

He almost didn't notice how quiet she'd gotten nor the bite of metal in the air. Almost. It was when he opened his eyes and caught a flash of hers in the moonlight did he realize something was terribly wrong.

He bolted upright, his hands on her face once more. He wouldn't let her hide from him this time.

“Katie? Katie look at me!”

Despite herself, she let him. Her eyes met his and they were both so... empty. Nothing like the ones so full of life and charm he was used to... the ones he found himself falling for.

His thumb stroked her cheek desperately as his gaze darted over every inch of her face.

“Katie, what's wrong? Please talk to me! Please!”

She still said nothing, and that's when he noticed the scent of blood. Immediately, he knew why and looked down at his softening prick still inside her. Though the room was dark, he could see the smear of blood between them.

“I'm so stupid,” he groaned.

He lifted her off of him and gathered her into his arms as though she were bits of fragmented glass. He pressed his lips to her forehead, her cheeks, her temples, her hair, over and over.

“I'm sorry, Katie, I'm sorry,” he apologized and she still said nothing. Her silence was killing him. “You didn't have to... We didn't have to...”

She was still so stiff even as he cradled her.

“Does it really hurt?” he asked, “I can take you to the medical wing.”

She shook her head. Finally a response.

“Katie...”

He didn't know what else to say, only knew he had to say something. He couldn't bare more silence.

Pidge swallowed at the lump in her throat. Once. Twice. But it wouldn't go down. She opened her mouth anyway, her lips trembling as she did.

“He's...he's gone.”

His eyebrows bunched and she felt him tense.

“Who's gone?”

She tried again, knowing her voice would fail her soon.

“Dad.”

And as she said this, his skin turned cold.

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“Dad,” she mewled, “Dad's dead!” She couldn't even pretend to keep her composure anymore as the words burst from her, paving the way for a flood of tears.

He shook his head in denial. “How?” he wanted to ask. They would've known. Their allies would've told  them. How did she know?

He'd missed her arrival that morning from another mission to search for her family. She'd gone alone, much to his disapproval, but out of necessity rather than choice.

The only ones there to greet her at the Castle were Hunk and Coran and the little rogue she was bypassed them easily.

She'd hid it from them. From him.

He should've known.

Did anyone else know?

��How did it happen? When? What about Matt? Why did she have to be the one to find out?”

As much as he wanted to, he didn't dare ask any of the questions careening through his mind.

“Katie... I don't... I'm so sorry...”

“Stop,” she begged, “Just stop. Just shut up. Please shut up.” Her hands reached out to try to push him, but when he resisted, they clung to him instead. Then without warning, she flung him off of her and bolted to her feet.

“It's not fair!” she screamed while she paced the confines of his tidy room, forgetting how naked she was, and her palms digging into her eyes. “It's not fair, Takashi! It's not fair!” The last word came out as a shriek.

“I know, Katie, I know...”

“No! No, you don't! You don't know! You don't fucking know!”

She found the nearest wall and banged a fist and her forehead against it as her rage dissolved into sobs.

Shiro jumped from the bed, ignoring his own lack of modesty and spun her towards him. She pushed him away, her countless hours of combat training kicking in now. But Shiro was bigger, stronger, and while she was faster, he had far more practice.

He overpowered her quickly and trapped her arms under his. He held her as tight to him as he could even after she gave in.

It was the only thing he could think to do.

–

The words came to him easily even as he fought off sleep, lying there beside Pidge while his hand smoothed over her hair and exposed cheek.

“When this is over, when the war is over, we'll go home,” Shiro said, “Me, you and Matt.”

“We'll go home. I'll meet Colleen properly this time. I'll tell her how perfect you are and give this a real shot... if you'll let me. We'll bake peanut butter cookies. Real ones. And lay in bed watching movies. I'll take you on a real date, somewhere nice. Just you and me. We'll watch the sunset on the beach. I'll be real romantic and cheesy. We'll play all your favorite video games.”

His hand lingered and his eyes blinked slowly.

She reached up to cover his hand with her own.

“I'd like that,” she said softly. Her throat felt full, her eyes puffy, and dried tears made the skin on her face feel tight.

Shiro blinked and forced his own eyes wider so he wouldn't be tempted to drift off.

“Me too.”

She was quiet again and for a moment he thought she'd fallen asleep.

“Promise me when it's over we can do that.” She looped her pinky finger around his before he had a chance to answer and squeezed.

He returned the gesture without hesitation. He'd promise her anything if it could make it right. He decided he would end this war, with his bare hands if he had to. Not just for the universe, or for Earth and all the Paladins' families, but for her. Above all else, he'd end it for her.

No more loss, he swore. No more pain.

–

In the coming days, it became clear they couldn't keep this news a secret. “We need to tell the others,” he'd said, “They'll figure it out even if we don't.” And while she resented the idea, she knew he was right. They were a team, a family, and they'd realize something was wrong sooner than later. It was bad enough they were keeping one secret, but the last thing she wanted was their sympathy.  The only ones who really understood were Coran and Allura and Keith. They didn't make her feel like some kind of pity project. Grieving or not, she was still the Green Paladin and just as capable as she'd ever been.

“I am not sitting this one out!” she'd snapped at Lance while Keith and Hunk were already halfway to their lions. “I'm still a member of this team whether you like it or not!”

“That's not what I meant, I just...”

Shiro stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“It's fine, Lance,” he said, “Let's move.”

He was the last to descend his elevator, clearly taken aback by the whole exchange.

“I didn't mean it like that,” he defended himself again, though too quietly for Coran or the princess on the dais behind him to even hear.

But even as things went back to normal, as normal as they could be, Shiro realized he couldn't do it anymore. Not after the nightmares. Not after what happened. And not while they grew so close to fighting Zarkon head on, everything they'd been working towards finally coming to a head.

Pidge insisted it didn't matter, that whatever they had between them, the sex, had nothing to do with it.

But he couldn't stand the guilt.

If the rest of the team knew... what would they do? What would they think of their dear leader? Lance already knew and while the Blue Paladin didn't hate him, he was clear about his objections.

“Then tell them! I don't care who knows anymore. There's nothing to hide! You're not a monster!”

He wanted to believe that – he truly did, and a part of him almost managed to. But a much stronger, more dominant part wouldn't let him.

“Let's just... wait... okay? I meant what I said, about when this is over and doing things right, but right now... Right now I just can't.”

Pidge crossed her arms on the kitchen counter and frowned at him from across the room, a half empty cup of hot chocolate at her fingertips.

His own cup he rotated back and forth between his palms.

“I care about you too much.”

She watched him, analyzing him, then he said it – just a few simple words she didn't know how much she needed to hear:

“I love you too much.”

He'd been staring at his hands until that moment when he looked her in the eyes, not a hint of reservation to be found.

But she didn't understand what he meant. How he could feel that way yet not want to be with her. How he could just say something like that! It was absurd, illogical, and it made her want to scream.

She didn't understand then.

And after their battle with Zarkon, while she stared at the empty cockpit of the Black Lion, she didn't understand now.

But he'd promised they'd go home together. He promised they'd start over and do things right. And Shiro never broke a promise. So she refused to cry.

They would find him, she decided despite anything and everything – him and her brother. Whatever it took, they would find him.

And they did.

[squirrel-moose-winchester]

I’m Giving You a Choice

Title: I’m Giving You a Choice

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, and God

Word Count: 2956

Warning: Angst, Out of body experience, Sad Dean, and idk…

A/N: I just want to let everyone know before hand that I can’t angst. Like I am horrible. So please tell me what you think about it. How can I improve? What could I have done better? I need your feedback so I can angst properly, or angst a little better. LOL. Once again, you’ve been warned… I can’t angst.

You were suddenly standing in front of a tall run down building. It looked oddly familiar but you just couldn’t place your finger on it. It looked like an old power plant, neglected and abandoned. It was a little eerie but there was something inside of you telling you to enter… so you did.

It was not what you expected at all. It was amazing, immaculate even. It was like a secret lair. Old and ugly on the outside to ward off other people but well-lived in the inside. It was dimly lit as you descended the stair case. The more you saw the more unbelievable it all was. But there was something in the back of your mind saying that none of this was new, that you’ve been here before.

Shaking off the thought, you wandered further into the structure. Everything was clean and neat aside from a few spots here and there. The table with a map had a few bottles of beer on top. You noticed that they were all empty. Trotting more into the living space, you found yourself in what seemed to be a library, books strewed across the table.

The books were strange, almost like occult books, but it didn’t seem to phase you as you thought it should. It almost seemed normal to see these kinds of books. They were books on witch craft, sleeping spells, demon deals, every topic that should be sending a signal warning ringing through your ears but it wasn’t. You weren’t scared, you were the opposite.

Wanting to explore more of the bunker you headed down through the halls. You peeked into different rooms but didn’t linger too long, however you did spend a few minutes in the kitchen, as a familiar feeling washed over you.

Further through the halls you came across a room that seemed to draw you in. Stopping in front of it, you spent some time gazing at the numbers. Double ones. Room number eleven.

Slowly, you opened the door, an overpowering scent filling your lungs. Your senses were sent on overdrive, feeling so many different emotions. The scent made you feel warm. It gave you some sort of comfort. It was familiar.

Stepping fully into the room, you admired the décor. It was simple with guns mounted on the walls. There was a desk caught that caught your eye. There were pictures, one particular man a common factor in every single one. He was incredibly handsome. In a few pictures with him was a woman who didn’t seem to be much younger than him. Maybe by just a few years. You assumed that she was his girlfriend. With a little tinge in your chest, you left the room and wandered a few doors down to a room whose door was wide open.

Without hesitation you stepped into the room. Everything about it made you feel like… like… it was hard to explain. It made you feel possessive? As if this room and everything inside it was yours. It appealed to you. Bits of green scattered around the room, something about the color drawing you in. Artwork posted on the walls that made you feel proud, and a giant bed that made you want to dive right into it’s warm, fluffy, memory foam nest of relaxation, so that’s what you did.

Rolling around the sheets in pure bliss, you heard a slam coming from somewhere in the bunker. You sat up straight in fear, scurrying out of the bed and trying to fix it as best you could. You were about to leave when you turned your head to take one last look at the room. When you spun forwards to run out, you came face to face with a man. It was the same man who was in all the pictures, except he looked a little different. He seemed a lot more tired and beat up. He was staring right at you and you panicked. He didn’t say anything, probably waiting for some sort of explanation to why you had broken into their… home?

“Uh, um, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to trespass, I just…” you stopped speaking when he didn’t react or give any sort of acknowledgement, and that’s when you noticed. Something was wrong. He wasn’t’ actually staring at you, he was staring past you? His eyes seemed lost, as if he was merely zoning out, but even so, you were sure that any normal human being would have responded in any kind of way once they were to see you. So what was the matter with this guy?

“Dean, hey, you okay?” Another voice interrupted, making you jump. When a taller male appeared, with long brown hair, you noticed that he too didn’t seem to recognize your presence. It was strange. You didn’t understand.

“Dean,” you said out loud, wanting to feel the way his name rolled off your tongue. It oddly felt natural, as if you’ve said that name many times before.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry Sammy, I just…”

“Sammy…” you said aloud, the name also familiar. “Dean, Sammy, can any of you hear me? See me? Hey!” There was no response at your attempt to make yourself known.

“Hey, it’s okay, c’mon let’s get to the hospital,” Sammy patted Dean on the back.

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice was rough and barely a whisper. Something was definitely wrong with him? The both of them. How could they not see you? Was this a dream?

Despite the possibility of this being a mere illusion induced my sleep, your curiosity urged you to follow them, and realizing that they couldn’t see you, you used it to your advantage to figure out what was really going on. What was wrong with Dean and why couldn’t he or Sammy see you?

You followed them through the bunker and back to the outside. The sun had gone down since you arrived, casting orange and pink hues mixed together in the sky. It was pretty but it felt a little chilly. While you were distracted from your thoughts, the sound of a car door slamming caught your attention. You rushed over to get into the back seat, just as Sam shut his own door at the driver’s seat. Anticipation churned in your stomach as the slick black car came to life. Who knew what kinds of answers would be waiting for you when you arrived at the hospital.

When Sam pulled in the parking lot of a hospital, you read the words on the building as he parked. You were in Lebanon. Lebanon, Kansas? The first word that popped into your head in association with the location was home. Home? It was strange. The feeling was like a distant memory.

When you started thinking, you began to realize that something was weird. If fact, everything was weird. Something was very wrong. Your memory… you had none. You couldn’t even remember your name. Things only looked and sounded familiar, but you had no recollection of anything. Who were you, why were you here, and who is Sammy and Dean? Something wasn’t right. Fear crept in and you suddenly felt cold, a throbbing pain coming from your head. Wincing at the sudden feeling, you tried to add pressure to the spot until it reluctantly disappeared. It was at that moment you knew something was terribly wrong and panic started to set in.

Sam exited the car, you following suit. He walked over to the passenger side and opened the door for Dean who just sat there, his eyes carrying that dazed look he had earlier back at the bunker. What was up with him? Did he have some sort of mental issue?

Sam helped Dean out of the car as you stared at him trying to conjure any sort of answers. There was a darkness in his eyes, as if there was a lot on his mind. His dull green eyes shifted to the hospital building, tears glossing them over and pooling on his bottom lids.

“Dean, it’ll be okay. She’s fine,” Sam comforted him, but got no reaction. He let out a deep sigh and patted him on the shoulder. “Come on, she’s waiting for us.”

Your brows furrowed wondering who they were talking about? Was this girl the reason why Dean was so out of it?

Walking through the hospital doors, you saw the nurse give them a sweet yet apologetic smile. They must have been here before. There was a sort of familiarity between them.

“Hey Joyce,” Sam greeted.

“Hi Sam, Dean. Y/N would be happy that you guys came to visit,” she smiled.

“Thanks,” Sam replied, pain swirling in his hazel orbs.

“Y/N,” you said the name out loud. The name suddenly made you feel nauseous. You couldn’t understand why. Who was that person? You were sure you’ve heard that name many times before but nothing came to mind. You didn’t know who it was or where you’d heard it. You were becoming increasingly more frustrated.

Sam lead Dean down the white sanitized hallway, making multiple turns until they stopped in front of a room door. The numbers 114 on it, and the anticipation built drastically within you wanting to see who was behind the door, but at the same time terrified of what you were going to find. There were so many emotions swimming around inside you. It felt too real to be a dream.

The door squeaked ajar and you held your breath. Just as Sam opened the door all the way, Dean rushed in taking the seat beside the bed. Sam entered next, sighing in exhaustion. You peaked in to see who it was but Dean’s body blocked your view.

“Y/N, hey, it’s Dean. I’m here baby, please wake up. Sammy’s here too, we miss you so much.” Dean’s voice shook, a firm indication that he was crying. Sam remained silent, listening to his brother and staring at the person laying on the hospital bed.

Not daring to enter just yet, you let your eyes roam the room, observing the monitors and IV bag that was most likely hooked to the patient. The beeping from the monitor was steady and consistent, making you believe that the girl should be okay and her healing coming along.

“Hey, Y/N. We’re waiting to take you back home, all you need to do is wake up,” Sam muttered, his voice dropping down to a whisper half way through his words.

“God, baby I am so sorry. I’m so sorry I let this happen to you,” Dean croaked.

“But it wasn’t your fault,” the words just slipped out of your mouth. You were a little surprised not knowing why you suddenly said that.

The sharp pain you had experienced early in your head shot through you suddenly. You groaned stumbling forward, bumping into the door before falling to your hands and knees. Both men snapped their heads in the direction of the noise, witnessing the door move. You were a panting mess, clutching the side of your head. When you opened your eyes the pain was gone.

“What was that?” Sam questioned before getting up and walking past you, scanning outside of the little room. “There’s no one around,” he muttered.

“Do you… do you think it’s Y/N?” Dean’s voice raised into a panic.

“Dean, the doctor said she’s fine. We just need to talk to her and she’ll wake up eventually,” Sam assured.

“And what if she doesn’t Sam!” Dean shouted, frustration getting the best of him. “I did this to her! It was my fault that this happened. I should have been there; I shouldn’t have let her come on this hunt!” Dean clutched her hand and lowered his head against it just as you stood up from the floor.

Your body froze the moment you saw her face… it was the woman in all those photos with him. A switch inside you flipped and you suddenly knew who she was. It was you. Your eyes widened in panic and shock, not knowing what to believe. What the hell was going on and what the hell were you doing laying on a hospital bed?!  How could you be standing here right now and also be laying there! Were you dead?! Were you a ghost right now?

“What’s going on?!” You shouted. Sam and Dean unexpectedly whipping their heads in different directions, searching franticly around the room.

“Did you hear that?” Dean questioned, his eyes wide as they landed on Sam.

“Yeah,” Sam responded. “It was faint, but I definitely heard it.”

“It sounded like…”

“Yeah, it did.”

“Y/N?” Dean called.

Out of nowhere, as gust of wind surrounded you and your memories came rushing back. It was a hunt. You were fighting against monsters, a gang of ghouls who had taken form of your friends. They masqueraded as Bobby, Charlie, Kevin, Jo and Ellen. You remembered the feeling it gave you when you saw their faces. You remember fighting, and then you remembered being thrown into the air, hitting your head hard on a tombstone before seeing Charlie hovering over you, punching your face repeatedly until she was ripped away from you. You vaguely remember Sam coming up to you asking if you were okay until everything went black.

“What the hell is happening?” Your words coming out strangled.

“You’re dying,” a voice sounded from behind you. Jerking around, your eyes widened, not expecting to see him again. “You’re currently in a coma in which you’re slowly fading away.”

“G-god?”

“Hey there, Y/N, it’s been a long time,” he smiled.

“What the hell? If I’m dying, then why didn’t I have my montage of happy memories?!” You spat, unable to believe him.

“Because I’m giving you a choice. You are a part of ‘Team Free Will’ after all.”

“What are you trying to say, Shurley,” you demanded.

He let out a sigh, “You are definitely a member of the Winchesters, such a short temper,” he shook his head. “And I just said it, I am giving you a choice.”

“A choice to live? A choice to remain a spirit? Or a choice to go to heaven or hell or where ever the hell I’m supposed to go? What is it?”

“Oh, that’s what you meant!” God laughed, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m giving you a choice to live. They need you, Dean needs you, but if you’re done, then I can bring you home.”

Home. The thought of home raked through your mind. The bunker was home, Sam was home, Dean was home. The only home you wanted was where ever Dean was. Dean. You wanted to be with Dean.

“Dean,” was all you managed to say.

“Good choice. He’s definitely lost without you,” God smiled. “You’ve suffered a great head trauma and had been in a coma for two months and he still hasn’t recovered. Good luck, Y/N. Be careful out there,” Chuck said before disappearing.

“Y/N, can you hear me? Are you here?” Dean was shouting at your sleeping form while Sam scanned around the small hospital room for any sort of sign of your presence.

A small cough came from your lying form on the sterile bed. Dean and Sam getting whiplash from how quick they turned their attention to you. Both men took a sharp breath in shock and relief. Sam shot up from his seat running out to call a doctor while Dean gently lunged himself at you, cupping your cheeks in his hands before pressing a hard and deep kiss on your dry and chapped lips. The feeling of him brought warmth through your body, loving the feeling of being alive.

“Dean,” you whispered, your voice raspy and dry.

“Baby, I’m right here! Thank God you’re okay! That you’re awake!”

“You really should be thanking God,” you coughed.

Sam came rushing back with a half full glass of water, his hand soaking wet. You attempted to laugh but your throat was too dry. Sam passed the glass to Dean who glared at him. Sam shrugged before Dean pressed the glass to your lips, tilting it forwards allowing you to lubricate your rusty throat.

When Dean retracted the glass away, you finally let out a soft laugh, causing both Winchesters to smile. “What’s so funny?” Dean asked.

“Sammy, how fast did you run here?”

“What makes you think I ran?” He grinned down at you with brotherly adoration.

“Your hand is all wet,” you chuckled.

Sam’s cheeks reddened at being caught. “I just wanted to get back here as soon as possible. The nurse should be on her way.”

Just then the nurse entered with a clipboard in hand smiling at you before shifting a glare towards Sam who shrunk at her accusing stare. “You left a little mess behind Mr. Winchester,” she scolded.

“Sorry, I just wanted to get back here,” he apologized, the nurse’s face softening.

“Miss Y/L/N, how are you feeling? I’m hoping he was able to get some of the water back here for you to drink?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, I had some water, and I’m feeling alive,” you responded.

The nurse did her routinely dismissal check ups. After an hour or so, she came back handing the paper work to Dean. “Well, that settles everything. Mr. Winchester, all you need to do is fill out these forms and bring them to the front desk. Y/N is all set to leave. Just take these vitamins twice a day until you run out and everything will be fine,” she announced.

“That’s it? It’s that quick?” Dean asked?

“It’s that quick,” Chuck rounded the corner, entering the room. “The three of you, along with Castiel, have work to do.”

Click here to leave feedback (please.)