#i feel like a jerk for even thinking i “earned” his affection but i know damn well i did more than she ever did | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

uranvittie · 8 days ago

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Dark Paradise \ TWO

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader.

Summary: After a particularly boring mission, Bucky asks Natasha out for a drink. Natasha isn´t thrilled with the idea, but she doesn't hate it either. She accepts out of curiosity. And she ends up captivated by the beautiful singer on stage.

Warnings | Tags: Mentions of alcohol and tobacco. Mention of Yelena Belova x Reader —it's platonic, I think— Slow burn? Something like that. Age gap. SHIELD as a criminal organization. Doesn't count as enemies to lovers, does it?

Note: Yes, here's part two. Sorry, I'm a sucker for Lana del Rey's music. Just so you know, there's not going to be a love triangle developing, if that's what you're worried about. The sisters flirt with you really weirdly anyway.

Natasha observes without interest the exchange of words in the room, they had been arguing about the same thing for hours.

The organization's meetings have always been a nuisance. They only talked about the missions, gave some other details and made criticisms of those who made mistakes in their tasks, which was acceptable, but that they focused too much on criticizing each other, that was the boring part.

Tony Stark hadn't stopped hurling mild insults in their direction. And she classified them as 'mild' due to the fact that he didn't dare speak to her in a direct way front of everyone, he was a jerk who was still hiding behind his father's legacy.

Natasha ignored him all the time, which seemed to affect Stark even more.

“Why is Natasha suddenly sitting with us?” He asks towards the elders, in a slightly mocking tone. “How did she even get here anyway?”

A place at the organization's table. The only ones who enjoyed the privilege were the seniors, the seasoned veterans, Stark hadn't earned his place at the table until less than a year ago, after tantrums.

“I thought stupid questions weren't allowed at the table.” Natasha replies in a calm tone. She liked the way that affected Stark, he wasn't going to earn a reaction from her. “But if you must know, I've earned my place here.”

Stark lets out another derisive laugh, but Natasha doesn't give him the time to speak.

“Unlike you, Stark, my father didn't set up a chair for me to climb on while I whine.”

Nick Fury lets out a laugh somewhere around the table.

Natasha smirks smugly as Stark stands up as if he's about to launch himself over the top to punch her. Behind her back, Bucky tenses for a moment, he moves to stand beside her.

“Natasha.” Melina calls out to her in a warning tone from across the table. Alexei had stood up to hold Stark in place. “We're not here to discuss this.”

"Why don't we explain it to the child who won't stop pouting?" she growls in annoyance, holding her hand to her face to rub the bridge of her nose. "Only adults are allowed to speak at these meetings..." She reminds Stark with a mischievous grin.

Stark slams his fists down on the table.

"Son of a bi—"

"Stark." Nick Fury stops in a harsher tone. "If you're not going to behave, you're going to have to leave the table."

Natasha scoffs, crosses her arms, her back hitting the back of the chair. She feels Bucky move back to the wall.

It was normal for her to bring her partner —apprentice?— to the meeting, with Bucky standing behind her in the room. So the others also kept their respective partners.

Stark gives Natasha a hateful look as he returns to his seat, with a sigh he finally shuts up.

Fury then resumes his speech about the excellent performance of one of his squadrons.

A few other comments are made, but there is nothing else of interest. After two full hours, the meeting was over. Natasha was grateful, at least she wouldn't see Stark's face again until the next meeting.

Fury gives Natasha a nod as he watches her head for the exit without talking to anyone.

Assholes.

She didn't like spending time with anyone in that room, not even her father, but Natasha had to be there.

To get rid of people like Stark, she had to become the head of the organization.

Natasha's place in the organization had begun as a child, and despite her mother's obvious displeasure, she had dedicated herself to the tasks her father had set for her.

The first time she took a life was at the age of ten.

At the time, Natasha had no recollection of how she had felt at the age of ten.

She soon realized that all the lives she took were the most disgusting lives that could exist. Thieves, murderers, rapists, corrupt. None of them deserved to live.

Natasha was no better than those people. She was just another murderer, but who was going to judge her?

She worked hard, for a long time, she made a place for herself in the organization. She had earned the respect with which many now treated her. Even those who once looked down on her now had to look up to see her.

Stark. And so would all the assholes in the room.

"How are you doing?" Bucky asks as he approaches with a bottle of water in his hand. He offers it to Natasha.

Natasha gives him a frown but accepts the bottle.

"Did you miss Stark being an idiot?" She speaks after taking a sip.

"You were a bit too." Bucky replies with a shrug.

"He deserved it." Natasha snorts and Bucky nods in agreement.

They walk down the hallway in silence, ignoring the security guards who guard the place like trained dogs.

When they reach the elevator, Bucky is the one who pushes the button, they wait until the doors open a minute later.

"Where did Yelena go? I haven't seen her since our night at the club." Bucky asks as the elevator doors close, leaving them alone.

The night at the club.

Natasha had avoided thinking about that night, or rather she had avoided thinking about you.

She had been fine until Bucky brought it up.

"She's doing a job." She answers simply. "She left for New Mexico two days ago." She informs him. And Bucky nods.

They remain silent for the rest of the trip to the second floor of the building, Natasha does not want to talk about Yelena, her sister, who did not even say goodbye to her. She had only heard about it from one of Kate Bishop's followers.

Ever since Natasha had been promoted to her place at the SHIELD organization's briefing table just three months ago, Yelena had been upset. Natasha didn't fully understand why.

She thought at first that maybe Yelena felt displaced after Natasha started devoting a lot of her time to the organization, but after questioning her, it seemed that wasn't it.

And that night, at the club, Yelena had made a certain comment that Natasha didn't forget.

While it was true that many despised Yelena's work, it was also true that everyone despised everyone. None of the organization ever recognized, honestly, if anyone was being capable. They fought to denigrate instead. Yelena should have been used to it by then.

Natasha thought that yes, Yelena never minded the comments of superiors in the organization. In fact, she even enjoyed annoying them.

So she didn't understand her sister's way of acting.

"Anyway, you don't have to worry about conflicts between Yelena and me." Natasha says as the elevator doors open. They step out. Bucky had probably asked about Yelena because he was still trying to get her back to her old self. "We'll take over."

"I won't interfere if it bothers you..."

"I didn't mean it like that..." She rushes on after seeing his self-consciousness. "I appreciate your interest, but it shouldn't be something that keeps you up at night." She pats his shoulder and smiles at him. "It doesn't keep me up. And I assure you, neither will Yelena."

Bucky nods with a twinkle in his eye that makes Natasha feel pain. She can't believe that a guy like him wants to be the perfect assassin for SHIELD.

Natasha lets go of his shoulder, then turns and walks back to where she parked her car.

She slides into the driver's seat and puts her hands on the wheel. Alone, her mind drifts back to that night, back to you, the beautiful nightclub singer.

A fucking spectacle.

A feast for the eyes. A delight to her ears as well. Natasha had never heard a more wonderful voice, nor had she ever seen anyone more beautiful.

I wasn't exaggerating or idealizing, you were truly breathtaking.

She had wanted to come back that night, to look for you among the employees of the place, Natasha wished she could see and hear you more, but she knew it would be absolutely intense if she did it now. And someone like Yelena wouldn't let it go.

It had been a week, and although Natasha wished she could, she didn't talk about that night anymore, nor did she talk to Bucky to hint at her desire to return to that place. Her partner would immediately realize that Natasha might be interested and he would ask questions, or maybe not, because Bucky had always been different from the rest, anyway, Natasha made no move.

Natasha takes the pack of cigarettes out of her jacket, puts one between her lips and lights it.

After exhaling the smoke through the open window, Natasha leans over to start the car, the engine roars and the stereo comes on, a song playing in the background.

No sooner has Natasha started the car and pulled into the street than her phone vibrates in her pocket.

She clicks in annoyance, puts the cigarette to her lips, and grips the steering wheel with one hand to get the vibrating phone into her pocket.

Her face scrunches up in confusion as she reads the contact's name on the screen. She answers and puts on speakerphone.

"We just separated, you know? At some point you have to leave the nest and fly—"

"Romanoff..." Bucky cuts her off with a sigh through the phone. The sound of the music drops two notches to hear him. "Is this a bad time?

"It's not a bad time." She hurries to say, holding the phone closer as she stops at a red light. "Speak."

"Um... I was wondering, are you doing something later?" Natasha frowns as she recognizes Bucky's tone, which sounds like he's whispering. She lets out a sigh.

"What, you want to go to dinner?" She asks confused. Bucky was always a semi-weird guy, but he got weirder when he suggested things.

"Well, Dark Paradise serves some food, but I don't know if it's good enough for you, we can get something—"

Bucky's voice is lost to Natasha's ears as she dives into her thoughts.

Thoughts about you. The amazing singer who had impressed her that night.

Your voice, so mesmerizing that it made her forget everything around her.

The dress that clung to your figure in a way that made Natasha sigh.

She coughs heavily after accidentally choking on cigarette smoke.

"Romanoff, are you all right?" Bucky's worried voice echoes through the car. And a car behind her honks loudly at her.

She curses and speeds up, noticing that the light has changed.

"All right." Natasha replies after recovering. "I'm just a little surprised that my sweet, usually shy partner would ask me out. I didn't think you were having fun or anything."

"I'm not shy." Bucky replies in a slightly annoyed tone. There's a moment of silence where Natasha thinks Bucky hung up, but he continues. "It's just... I don't have anyone to hang out with." He admits in a lower tone, a small chuckle is heard and he continues. "I'm getting used to being independent..."

Natasha hears Bucky's sigh. She feels a little sorry for him. She had heard certain things about Bucky, like how he was treated in the old organization he belonged to. A dog on a chain, finally let out, she guessed it was hard to know what to do with that freedom. Besides, the only family Bucky seemed to have was in a coma, or so she had heard. Natasha had never really had a deep conversation with Bucky, she didn't like to ask personal questions.

She only knew that Bucky had been left with nothing to fall back on, so SHIELD had taken him into their ranks.

“Fine.” She agrees. “It's my responsibility as your superior after all...” She scoffs a little.

“You don't have to accept if you don't—”

“If I really didn't want to accept, believe me, I wouldn't.” She assures, earning a snort from Bucky. “I will see you there. I hope you find a nice table for us, I’ll leave if not.”

“Of course.”

After that, Bucky hangs up the call.

Natasha can't help but smile as she remembers you again, you, with that melodious voice on stage.

Would she see you tonight?

Natasha would go crazy if she didn't.

———————————————　♡　———————————————

Getting out of the car, Natasha adjusts the sleeves of the coat she is wearing that night. The night is cold.

She had parked her car a few blocks away, because she didn’t want to risk that some drunken idiot might even touch the paint on her new Porsche Taycan.

She had texted Bucky half an hour earlier to tell him she would be late, she felt a little guilty, but she had overslept after starting a ridiculous show about dramatic doctors.

Her free moments seemed like a nuisance to her because she realized she didn’t have a life.

She shoved her hands in her pockets as she crossed the street, noticing from a distance the sign announcing the name of the club. The warm lights of the place illuminate it enough to draw attention to it from this distance.

Natasha steps in line, turns to the guard to give him a long look, which he holds without intimidation, Natasha gives him a smile after quickly placing a few bills in his hand, the man moves to allow her entry. Natasha scoffs at the thought of buying a ticket for a place like this. Ridiculous. As if it were a fancy, expensive club, that wasn't anything special.

The only great thing about the place was you.

Inside, it was the same as last time. There were lots of people, men and women occupying the tables or seats at the bar, music playing in the background and girls in slutty outfits strolling across the laps of the patrons. Natasha looks around the place for quite a while, until she finally recognizes Bucky's hair on one of the private tables near the wall.

Apparently Bucky hadn't opted for a table near the stage or something more brightly lit, Natasha almost freaks out about it, but he surely doesn't know about her crush on you, so how could it be his fault?

“When are you going to get a haircut?”

Bucky lifts his face and gives her a confused look, he brings a hand to his hair and combs through a few strands.

“Is it too long?”

“You should at least comb it...” Natasha sighs and takes a seat on the leather couch, at least they were more comfortable seats. She sits across from Bucky, so she can also face the stage. He gives her a small smile.

“What would you like to drink?”

“You make the choice, after all, you invited me, shouldn't you be the one serving and all?”

Bucky nods and hurriedly gets up in the direction of the bar.

Her eyes narrow towards the man as she sees him disappear into the group of people around the bar.

It was certainly strange that Bucky had proposed to do something, but it was even stranger that he proposed to visit a nightclub. She understood it the first time, he had created a situation where she and Yelena would meet, but Yelena wasn't there these days. Bucky didn't strike her as a guy who enjoyed drinking, Natasha had seen him drink maximum four glasses of alcohol.

Of course, Natasha wasn't going to question the man, she didn't want to seem to imply that she didn't like the idea of visiting the club. Oh, Natasha loved that they were there. In fact, if Bucky had proposed the night after their first visit, Natasha would have accepted as well.

Bucky returns then, with a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand. Natasha raises her eyebrows in slight surprise, she didn't think a place like that could have such an expensive bottle of wine.

“It's too much for this place...” Natasha scoffs as she reads the label on the bottle Bucky places on the table.

“Don't disparage.” He mutters after taking the bottle out of Natasha's hands. He opens the bottle carefully and pours her a glass. “I know this place in town has its reputation, but this is a good place, isn't it?”

“I guess.” Natasha snorts and accepts the glass Bucky offers her. “It has its charm...” She adds as she thinks of you.

“I hear the owner is a nice person...”

“Probably a cheapskate who doesn't want to pay more for a decent place in some good spot in town...” Natasha reasons. The place itself had a classic style, which could be turned into something fancy if they were more selective with the customers. They could easily go for a more exclusive and private feel, with a really sophisticated inspiration instead of being pretentious and poor.

But yes, Bucky was right to mention that the place had a lousy location, that whole neighborhood had a bad reputation. And most of the people there were no better either. It all attracted a crowd of drunken idiots shuffling across the carpet after pretty girls in short dresses.

Bucky shrugs and quietly goes about his drinking.

One of the things she liked most about Bucky was that he didn't need to talk all the time, he seemed to like keeping his mouth shut. Natasha appreciated that.

Almost twenty minutes later, a boy approaches the table.

Natasha doesn't bother to look at him, but she notices the way the boy leans confidently close to Bucky, and notices, of course, the big smile he directs at Bucky, Natasha doesn't mention anything, she sees him leave a tray on the table and walk away after a few brief polite words like, 'Enjoy your dinner.'

“You know him.” Natasha points out.

Bucky nods quietly and moves forward to remove the plates from the tray.

"It's Peter." He answers simply. Natasha then remembers Kate Bishop on her first night there, Bishop had talked about Peter most of the night. "Serve the drinks."

Bucky puts Natasha's plate in front of her. The steak has a crisp golden crust, bathed in a reduced butter and herb beurre blanc sauce, accompanied by honey glazed carrots and ginger. The presentation itself is elegant. Really impressed that such an elaborate dish can be served in such an ordinary place. They garnish it with a sprig of rosemary. Visually, it looks good. More than good. She's impressed. And Bucky must notice, because he grins at her like an idiot.

"You assumed they were just making hamburgers or something..." He accuses her with an amused look on his face. "I told you, it's not a bad place..." He reminds her.

Natasha doesn't respond. She watches as Bucky begins to eat from his plate, which is also a piece of ribeye steak, but served with asparagus sautéed in butter and garlic.

"I made you come all this way. I wanted you to at least have a good dinner..." Bucky speaks after swallowing a bite.

Natasha looks at him with a raised eyebrow and a sideways, half-smirking smile.

"That's very nice, Barnes..."

She watches Bucky blush softly, he looks down to continue eating in tranquility. Natasha laughs, but goes about eating as well.

The steak was amazing. Bucky actually remembered how she likes it, juicy and tender inside. She's even more impressed that they can have cuisine of that level in a club like that.

Maybe she should stop looking down on it.

Bucky complains about the way Natasha eats, in too much of a hurry, always, like she's being rushed through something. And Natasha complains about the way Bucky eats, too careful and too quiet. Sometimes she would see him eating alone after their jobs and it was as if he didn't want them to notice he was eating.

About half an hour after they finished their plates, Bucky gets up to take them away by himself. Another thing to criticize, the waitresses or waiters didn't even fulfill their function as waiters, it seemed like they were just there to flirt with the customers as much as they could. If you wanted a drink, you had to go ask for it at the bar.

So Bucky comes and goes, but he doesn't seem bothered. Natasha notices Barnes' goofy grin every time he talks closely to the kid serving drinks, Peter? She didn't even remember his name. As Yelena had said earlier, the kid was pretty simple.

“Are you done flirting yet?” Natasha asks when Bucky returns to the table, he looks at her with a flat expression.

“I wasn't flirting...” He clarifies nonchalantly, Natasha lets out a scoff. “I only spoke to him briefly, but he had to leave to help ‘—’ with his act.”

‘—’

Natasha blinks slowly, the name repeating in her head.

She's about to ask who it is ‘—’ when she notices the way Bucky looks at her. As if he's waiting for a reaction or even for her to delve deeper into the subject. Natasha turns her head to the side and laughs softly.

She already suspects who is ‘—’ from the way Bucky says it as he looks at her. Of course, you have a pretty name too.

Almost ten minutes have passed in silence, Natasha watches Bucky from time to time, the man looks calm as he drinks.

“Why did you choose such a secluded table?” Natasha asks as she pours herself another drink.

She sees him furrow his brow a little.

“I thought you'd like the privacy...”

“Last time you chose a table in the center in front of the stage...” She points. And her gaze moves to the tables in the center, which, of course, were occupied. Although, that didn't stop Bucky last time.

“Oh.” Bucky frowns as he seems to think over the words. “The intention was for Yelena to sit with us... if I had chosen a table away from the stage, Yelena wouldn't have come over...”

Natasha sees him smile and she frowns. Of course, her younger sister was interested in you too. The way Yelena showed her interest was certainly strange. Natasha remembers the way she talked about you that night.

She feels like asking more questions. To inquire further about your relationship with Yelena, but she doesn't. Her gaze focuses on the glass of wine in her hands and she lets out a sigh.

A few seconds later, Natasha notices how the lights become dim. Only the lamps placed in the centerpieces glow, giving the place a certain aura of mystery all of a sudden. The spotlight points its light onto the empty stage and Natasha is then watching.

Her attention is fixed on you when you finally emerge from the curtains at the back of the stage. You are wearing a burgundy dress, with your hair loose in slings sliding smoothly down your shoulders. The way you walk to the front of the stage causes Natasha's mouth to feel dry. You smile, in a divine way, your lips are painted the same shade as your dress. Fuck, Natasha even notices —yes, at that distance— how your lips also shine.

Natasha doesn't take her eyes off you, she devotes herself to appreciating the dress, it doesn't have so many details to focus on, it looks like a thin and soft fabric, but somehow it looks expensive —or maybe it's just the fact that you're the one wearing it— you make the dress look elegant, expensive and somehow also sensual. Just like the previous dress, it has a deep cut that allows the smooth skin of your legs to show through. Natasha licks her lips as she watches you hold the base of the microphone in your hands with such care.

Natasha catches her breath as you begin to sing.

All the lights in Miami begin to gleam

ruby, blue and green, neon too

everything looks better from above my king

like aquamarine, ocean’s blue

A soft chorus of "ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah" that you sweetly sing brings a sigh from Natasha.

It's amazing how you conquer the stage. Your voice, your face, your figure, your hair, God, Natasha had never seen anyone reach that level of beauty. Natasha didn't think it was possible for someone to be so beautiful in so many things at once.

Even the movements you make with your hands, the soft sway of your body with every step you take on stage, absolutely everything, you make it all look unbelievably wonderful.

In a cheap club full of drunks and idiots, Natasha is impressed by you, you are a beautiful star that lights up the stage.

Natasha's mouth feels dry as the chorus begins again. She raises her wine glass to her lips without taking her eyes off you, she even feels her heart stop when your eyes meet hers.

It's only a few seconds, but for Natasha it feels like an eternity, until your gaze moves elsewhere. Natasha smiles with the wine glass to her lips.

Oh, you really made her feel things.

The summer’s hot

and i’ve been waiting for you all this time

i adore you, can’t you see, you’re meant for me?

summer’s hot but i’ve been cold without you

i was so wrong not to tell, i’m in regine, tangerine dreams

Natasha puts a hand to her lips to cover the pleased smile as your gaze fixes on her again.

Catch me if you can

working on my tan

Salvatore

dying by the hand

of a foreign man

happily

calling out my name

in the summer rain

ciao amore

Salvatore can wait

now it’s time to eat

soft ice cream

You had sung to her.

Not really, Natasha thinks, but your eyes never left hers for the rest of the song. During the chorus, you looked away from time to time, but always back to Natasha.

She pulls her hand away from her face and holds the wine glass to her mouth, still staring at you, and you're still looking at her.

Jesus Christ, Natasha can't even acknowledge the sensation running through her body.

When the song finally ends, the lights come back on. Several men start chasing you at the foot of the stage, some even sneaking around you, chasing you, trying to get your attention. Natasha smiles, amused as she watches you grimace and ignore them all as you disappear from the stage.

Then Natasha remembers Yelena. Yelena had done the same thing as all these men, but Yelena had made you come closer by offering money directly into your hand. That had been the reason why you had approached her, not because of Yelena.

Oh, how interesting.

You're gone, apparently backstage, but before you can get completely lost in the darkness, Natasha notices you turn your head to look at her. You scowl at her, but Natasha gives you a smile before you disappear completely.

"She's a good singer."

Natasha turns to look at Bucky, who is still in his seat without moving an inch, Natasha had even forgotten he was there. He didn't make a sound during the whole song, Natasha really had forgotten that she was accompanied.

Her companion gives her a smile as she drinks in silence.

Then Natasha leans over and pours herself another drink.

"Yeah." She answers calmly after a moment. Bucky gives her a curious look.

———————————————　♡　———————————————

Natasha leaves the bar, avoiding the group of people crowding the entrance; she has missed Bucky since the man left to cavort with the beverage boy. Though Natasha wants to ask what Bucky's interest was in a boy like that, she doesn't.

She comes to one of the empty, dingy alleys, the music in the club loud enough to be heard down here, Natasha ignores the waltz and reaches into her coat pocket for her pack of cigarettes.

She lifts one to her lips and looks around, the lights of the club dimly illuminating the place, allowing her to at least look at her shoes. It smelled musty and trashy. Lighting his cigarette, he notices your figure a few steps away.

You're sitting on some crates, your legs dangling, a lollipop between your lips as you fiddle with the phone in your hands. Natasha straightens when she sees you lift your head.

"You're interrupting my rest..."

Your words slur, Natasha recognizes the annoyance in your voice, she almost laughs as she sees you wrinkle your nose in disgust.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Natasha steps forward and sees you tucking your phone into the pocket of the jacket you're wearing. Of course, you're not wearing that pretty dress from earlier. "Is this a bad time?"

The look you give Natasha at that moment almost makes her lose her emotion, almost. You straighten up and jump to your feet in front of the boxes, your lips pressed together, giving her a sideways glance as you walk past her.

"This is it. I don't talk to customers on my break... I don't get paid for it."

Your voice is less sweet than before, not at all the melodious tone you use when you're on stage. Natasha smiles in amusement at your clear rejection. You are clearly irritated by Natasha's presence.

And that's because you don't really like any client. You know what their intentions are when they approach you. And even though this redhead is pretty, the way she looks at you, well, it doesn't make her any different from the rest. You take the candy out of your mouth and wrap it back in its wrapper as you put it in your pocket.

"That's okay. I can pay you for your time if you prefer..."

Then you stop and turn to her with a soft, teasing smile. Of course, you remember seeing her next to Yelena Belova the other night, so they must be the same. You shake your head as you giggle.

While the clothes she's wearing look expensive, definitely expensive, with that expensive, fancy coat and a watch that must be worth more than the place where you work, you're not too impressed. You know how it works. You know exactly how these people think. She's not only rich, she's pretty, more than that, so she's probably twice as obnoxious as the mean men with money.

You're about to turn her down, you've had practice at that, when she calls you back, you turn to look at her, with a jaded expression on your face, you open your mouth to tell her to fuck off, but she's holding a wad of bills between her fingers. Oh. You purse your lips and swallow your words. Well, maybe a conversation.

"What's your name?" She asks, and you almost burst out laughing at her choice of first question. Oh, at least she's cute for wanting to know your name.

You tell her your name. And she smiles gently. You realize that she actually has a nice smile. And without wanting to, a smile comes to your lips.

“That's a sweet name...” You roll your eyes, yes, it's a compliment, coming from someone pretty like her it's even more appreciable, but it's not new to you. Not when you've been there for over a year, you've run into enough drunks who even recite poetry to you while groveling at your feet for a kiss —not that they're in love, just drunk and idiotic— it's not that you're bothered by their words, it's just that they have no effect. Not at that moment.

You're almost bored, tempted to take the money from her hand and leave, you do it to Belova often, why not to her too?

But surprisingly you don't find her as unpleasant as you do the others. At least you don't notice the perverted gleam in her eye. It's slightly different the way she looks at you, just a little.

“Don't you want to know my name?”

“Mhmm. I don't think so. No, I don't mind...”

You see her frown and tighten her lips, but she doesn't seem to pull back.

“Romanoff. Natasha Romanoff.” She says anyway, with a sly smile as she leans forward, a step closer. “You have a lovely voice...”

Oh, there she goes again with the compliments. Nothing original, honestly, but at least you have to give her a point because she didn't compliment your legs, but your voice.

“How much for one night?”

Ah, well, it didn't take long for her to make herself look like an idiot.

The smile on Natasha's lips makes you even more angry, because she has a nice smile, with a pretty and even angelic face, while she asks something like What's your price? And God, it's disgusting the way her hands start to stretch out to offer you the money.

"Do I look like a prostitute?" you ask, looking at her with indignation, Natasha furrows her eyebrows slightly as she tilts her head to the side. Oh, that idiot dares to look confused.

She falls silent as she looks at you, her eyes bright and curious. She seems almost embarrassed by the question. Almost.

"A very expensive one..." She answers after a second of silence, smiling again, confident, Natasha takes another step forward. "You're pretty."

"Should I take that as a compliment?"

You see her pull her face in a grimace, clearly confused as to how the conversation is going, of course she expected the conversation to go differently. Everyone assumes that, for a little money, you will worshipfully suck her dick. God, everyone is stupid, even things as beautiful as her. For the first time since you've seen her, she seems to hesitate, money in hand, looking at you like a fool.

"Excuse me, am I offending you?"

Unbelievable. Okay, maybe she's not the most disgusting person you've ever met, because God knows you've met plenty of disgusting people along the way, but you're struck by how brazen this woman is, maybe just by the fact that she still has that pretty, sweet smile on her lips as she dares to ask if you're offended that she called you a prostitute. Now you understand why she was sitting next to Yelena Belova the other night. They're as pretty as they are assholes.

"No, of course not. I love being stopped in alleys and called a prostitute." Your tone is sarcastic, Natasha realizes that of course, but she doesn't seem sorry, instead her smile widens as she leans forward.

You're not wearing your high heels, so the difference in height bothers you even more because you have to look up to see her. I wish she'd shut up, you think.

"You say that like you haven't just come out of the nightclub..."

Jesus Christ. You wish she would shut up.

And it's just that she's pretty, very pretty, the way she looks at you is even cute, in a weird way, because you know her thoughts aren't for sure, and that smile, ah, it's pretty cute too. But she talks like an idiot.

You don't give her another word, in fact, you don't even look at her as you reach out to grab the wad of bills between her fingers. You've earned it for having the strength to take her bullshit. You really have. So you take the money and walk away, ignoring her when she calls your name. The club's service door locks easily, so you don't even think about it when she tries to remove the lock to chase you out. Fuck it, you think as you walk down the club's hallways to the shitty break room they have for the club's employees.

Your shift has been over for a while, but you keep staying to talk to Peter, even though at the time Peter was chatting with Belova's idiot friend, though now you know he's also friends with the idiot from earlier. Natasha was her name? You don't care enough to find out.

You don't bother to wait for Peter that night, you know that when one of his friends comes to see him, he takes a long time, you pack your things, as well as the money you earned that night —thank you assholes—, after fixing your bag, you say goodbye to the security men as you leave through the other service door, you don't want to risk running into the idiot from before.

The streets are empty, of course, it's almost two in the morning, the streetlights flicker as you walk down the sidewalk with your hands in your pockets, you've barely crossed a few blocks when you realize a car is following you.

You sigh.

You decide to cross the street immediately and take a different path, at least it's not unfamiliar, the streets here are dark enough, littered with garbage, with huge containers blocking the path of cars on narrow sidewalks, allowing you to get lost in the confusing sidewalks of the neighborhood.

You're absolutely sure that you've left the car that was following you behind, so you start walking again, with quiet, smooth steps, turning a corner while humming the song that's playing in your headphones.

"So you live around here..."

The voice takes you by surprise and you jump backwards, just a little, hitting the wall with your back. You quickly pull yourself together and look up to see Natasha, yes, you remember her name well now. The smile she offers you seems less sweet now. You pull the headphones out of your ears and straighten up, looking at her sternly —or at least you try to— Natasha just raises an eyebrow at your suspicious attitude.

"I had to chase you, of course, you didn't let me enjoy all my time with you. I paid for it, didn't I?"

Ah, so she's a crazy woman.

You blink slowly, looking at her through your lashes as you assess the situation. You could run away, but for some reason you feel like you'd lose if you did. You don't know why, but somehow you know. If you run, she'll catch up to you. You notice his car parked behind you. Oh, she's got a nice car too. Damn, who is this crazy woman?

She must have noticed you watching because her smile is getting wider.

"I can drive you home." She offers in a cloying tone, looking at you in a way that's starting to make you uncomfortable.

Fuck, she's an asshole with too much confidence to think you'll agree to get into her car when she's literally just chased you. Cheeky and idiotic or really a fool.

You pull the lollipop from your lips as you give her an amused look.

"I thought the money you gave me earlier was to apologize for acting like an idiot..."

Natasha raises both eyebrows, looking a little surprised, maybe she didn't expect you to react like that. Ugh. You just sigh and watch as she pulls herself together with a crooked smile and puts her hands into her coat pockets.

She remains silent, looking at you in a way that makes you feel shy, because somehow she seems to be analyzing you. It's a strange feeling, you can feel her eyes sweeping over you as her smile widens. And God, she looks kind of cute. Only because she's quiet.

"So you forgive me?"

You snort and shake your head, somehow amused by her cheeky attitude. You don't even look at her, concentrating on the popsicle you're holding between your fingers, when you hear her take a step forward and instinctively step back.

Natasha raises a hand as if to reassure you when she notices you eyeing her suspiciously.

"I'm just offering you a ride home to apologize... for acting like an idiot earlier.

"I'm not getting in your car..." You say almost immediately. You don't even know why you're accepting the company of someone who has the aura of a killer, but how could someone so pretty be a psychopath? Surely she isn't.

"It's okay. I can walk." She accepts without complaint, shrugging her shoulders.

"Why should I agree to walk with you? You can be a psycho..." You tell her, looking at her with a deep frown, playing with the paddle on your lips as she laughs at hearing you.

"Well, I'll do it anyway. I'll follow you up close or at a distance... but it'll look less creepy if I do it up close..."

You blink slowly. For some reason, your sense of alertness doesn't switch on in your head, which makes you feel like you're not really in danger. It's weird, maybe, because even in situations that look safer, you've felt more intimidated by other people. And this woman, she followed you on your way home like a stalker would when she treated you like a prostitute before —don't forget— but somehow you don't feel in danger by her presence.

You've always trusted your instincts when it comes to people. And this woman, despite everything, doesn't make you want to run in the opposite direction. Maybe it's because she's pretty. Really pretty. And you know, pretty women always make you a bit of an idiot. But that doesn't mean you trust her, of course.

Anyway, somehow you quietly accept it.

You walk by Natasha's side, between the empty streets, along the dimly lit sidewalks, the streetlights flickering from time to time, you feel Natasha's intense gaze every now and then, looking at you out of the corner of her eye while she smiles. She doesn't seem to mind the silence, which you are grateful for, because it has become clear to you that you only find her beautiful when she is quiet.

When you finally arrive at your apartment building, you stop at the entrance and Natasha does the same, looking at you as if she's waiting for you to invite her in as well. Which, well, makes you think she's a real dummy.

After a few seconds of silence, she finally opens her mouth to speak. "Can't kiss you, right?"

Cheeky and idiotic.

"You can't."

"Ouch. I thought if I couldn't buy it, I could earn it by taking you home..." She purses her lips slightly and gives you a look that's almost sad, almost, as if she's trying to make you feel sorry for her. What is she? Twelve years old?

"You chased me around..."

"But I meant well..." Natasha snorts and puts her hands in her pockets.

You almost laugh as you watch her grimace at your rejection, as if she was expecting something else.

"You're just as much of an asshole as Belova..."

At the mention of Yelena, you see Natasha's expression change, it's almost tense, she straightens up and looks at you more intensely. Her voice even takes on a deeper tone as she asks you, "What is your relationship with Yelena?"

The confidence and ease with which she says Yelena's name lets you know that you actually know each other. Well, you saw them together at the club that night, and Yelena never shares her table with anyone, but you were still curious.

You don't answer her question, you ask back. "What is your relationship with Yelena?"

"She's my younger sister..." She doesn't seem bothered, the words slipping easily from her lips, she looks at you as if waiting for a reaction.

You blink and nod, a goofy smile tugging at your lips. Well, they both look alike. They’re both idiots.

"Oh, so she learned to be disgusting from you..."

Natasha laughs, really, really amused. You seem to have more attitude than she thought. She finds it refreshing.

"So you find me disgusting... that means you won't invite me to your flat for tea..." Natasha sighs deeply and looks down at the floor with a defeated expression. Her shoulders even slump. "A waste of time..." She mutters, you manage to recognise the playful tone and can't help but snort.

"You don't look like someone who drinks tea anyway." You tell her with a smile and move forward to pass her by.

You're walking away, reaching the door of the building, when Natasha's voice calls out to you again.

"I'll be back for you." She says it in a raised voice, and you look at her with a raised eyebrow. Because she says it in a sweet way, maybe she thinks you care. And you don't.

The way she smiles at you from a distance also bothers you. Why is she talking to you like that? She even sounds affectionate, keeps that pretty expression on her face, as if she's making a promise of love.

You don't even bother with a gesture, entering the building behind you without looking back. You sigh and warm your hands by rubbing them together.

Well, if you see her again, at least you'll make sure she pays more for it.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #yelena belova #Spotify

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thedovesaredying · 1 year ago

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Hi I'm hyperfixated over your zombie! Ghost and I've been reading it every hour since it was up, it's the idea of him only acting upon his own primal urges get me going 🤤 i don't know if your zombie! Ghost is a dead person who became zombie or just an infected living human but either way I'm so down!!

I thought about what if reader leaves the muzzle on him all the time and do the usual stuff, pull him by it when they walk about looking for food and medicine, loosen it a bit when he tries to eat whatever is in his zombies menu and of course tugging it backwards as you ride him 🩵

- 🌋

Anon! Your brain!!

I’m glad I’m not the only one weak for our Zombie lad. I actually have a bunch more I want to write about him, so feel free to request more for him at any point uwu

A little snippet for you below the cut <3

Words: 780

Rating: NSFW

Warnings: Teratophilia, PnV, Unprotected Sex, Muzzles.

Reminder, this is an 18+ account!

Ghost has been in quite a huff with you recently or, at least, you think he is. It’s a little difficult to tell given his difficulty stringing full sentences together after the infection ravaged his brain. He’s still cognisant and able to get his thoughts across to you (even if most of those thoughts involve being hungry or wanting to fulfil certain urges).

However, his attention span isn’t the greatest and he’s constantly getting distracted by things in your surroundings. Wandering off like a toddler at every new sound, checking to see if there’s food or a potential threat hiding around every corner. No matter how many times you ask him to try and focus, he’ll inevitably end up finding trouble.

The other zombies aren’t much of a problem since he can chase them off with a few well-placed swipes and growls to remind them of their place. It’s the other survivors you’re worried about. It’s a lawless land out here and anyone that’s survived this long knows to shoot first and ask questions later. This doesn’t bode well for your zombified partner. He’s an enemy and when he has his sights on a potential meal there’s little you can do to deter him from attacking.

Hence, it’s easier to simply keep him at your side. The muzzle works wonders for when you need to gently steer him away from distractions, even if he occasionally gets a little grumpy at having to be pulled around by his face. He can’t nose his face up against you properly when it’s in place which often makes him grumble and sigh a tad overdramatically.

You take it off when you go to sleep, after all, it wouldn't do you any good to have your guard dog unable to use his best weapons. Ghost doesn’t require sleep anymore, so he makes an excellent protector for when you’re in your most vulnerable state.

He stays with you all throughout the night, his body pressed up against your back and his arms caging you to his chest. His lips are dry and completely missing in some parts, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to lave every inch of you with kisses. A soft rumbling sound always accompanies his affections, almost a purr.

But the uses of a muzzle don’t stop at simply helping to direct your companion whenever he starts to drift away. It’s particularly useful for manipulating his face to exactly where you want it, be it away from something he wants or toward the places you require his attention.

Riding him is only more intense when you’re able to grip at the thick leather straps keeping his muzzle in place. He tries to press his mouth to your throat, but you hold him back, forcing his milky white eyes to stare directly into your own as you slowly sink down on his cock. It’s beautiful, the way his eyelids flutter and a frankly sinful groan escapes him.

“Good boy,” you coo, earning yourself a rough jerk of Ghost’s hips. He starts rocking his body up and into your warmth, his gloved hands raising to grip at your waist.

He pulls you down and onto him over and over again in time with his rapid thrusts, snarling and growling all the while. Ghost might not be able to shift his gaze from your blissed out expression, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less in control. The pace he sets is downright brutal, bullying his entire length into your sopping cunt until it nudges at your cervix.

Even when you gasp at the sensation and one of your hands grips at his hair he doesn’t faulter. Your noises seem only to urge him on, his panting breath heavy as he endeavours to draw out at many sounds from your lips as physically possible. His intense gaze from where you hold his face only heightens the experience, his eyes scrutinising each and every expression you offer.

You grow close to orgasm almost embarrassingly fast, but all it takes is a raspy, possessive, “mine,” snarled at you to have your pussy clamping down around Ghost’s cock.

With your body growing weak from coming so hard, Ghost takes full advantage of your distraction, pushing you down and onto your back without missing a single beat in his current rhythm. He keeps going all through your orgasm, the slick from your tender hole only helping to easy his way. He doesn’t let up with his desperate chanting of, “mine, mine, mine,” right up until he spills deep inside you.

Your attempts to dominate him hadn’t exactly gone to plan. Perhaps next time you should use some handcuffs as well.

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #reader insert #terato #ask dove #dyingdovefics #🌋anon

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dmercer91 · 1 year ago

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you mentioned char making orphan jokes

and all i can think of us someone making them mid-game

and char is fucking laughing at em, while jack is being held back by nico and dawson from swinging at the player

(but one does probably go too far and dawson and nico are like “get him”)

it’s matty tkachuk

it’s so, 100% matty and charlie knows he’s not being malicious cause it’s him

she’s literally giggling like a maniac cause he’s giving her so many new jokes and jack is both upset cause she’s laughing and upset cause what did you just say about my girlfriend

she doesn’t really care about the last comment, she’s still laughing, until she sees how affected jack is

dawson fully lets go of jack and nico is definitely thinking about it, but decides it would be cool if his lady bing finalist alt didn’t get laid out by matt tkachuk

oh, wait- | hooked au, jh86

it started during a faceoff- tanner standing shoulder to shoulder with matt while he gnawed on his mouth guard.

“nice twig. daddy’s money?” she furrowed her eyebrows, giving him a look. he grinned, chuckling to himself “oh, wait-“

she shook her head slightly, giggling to herself and looking back towards the ref.

then, the next faceoff they had with each other was at centre ice, after she’d scored.

“know you don’t have an old man to shoot on, but go easy on bob, char. he’s not as spry as your little brother,” he winked, charlie looking to her skates and holding back a snort

“i’m telling bob you called him old.” he smirked, crouching and leaning closer into her, getting ready for the faceoff. that was the first one jack heard, and to say he was displeased would be an understatement.

when they were both in the box after a friendly line brawl, she already knew what she had coming

“i like your style,” he yelled, a grin finding its way on her face

“yeah?” she sprayed water into her mouth, waiting for his response

“yeah! very motherless. so sick,” this time around, her head tilted back in laughter and she shook her head at him, still giggling and trying to catch her breath

“thanks! the daddy issues are really highlighted in your right hook,” she retorted, matt snorting as he put his gloves back on.

jack had been watching from the bench as the whole conversation played on the jumbotron- glaring at it since is wasn’t hard to read their lips cause of how loud they were yelling

nico took notice quickly, nudging his shoulder and shaking his head. “don’t even think about it,” dawson chimed in as well, nodding along with nico “she can take care of herself,”

then, by the end of the game, matt had taken notice of jacks glares to him. he knew that the two of them were dating- and originally he hadn’t meant to step on anyone’s toes, but now he was in too deep to leave the chance sitting there.

jack was renowned for keeping away from shit stirring on the ice, and matt wanted to see how far he could push it before jack deemed it necessary to respond

so, at the face off “if ever you need someone to call daddy, you know where to find me,” could crisply be heard over the in-arena music.

jack turned his head, the ref was honestly a little stunned, and charlie was giggling uncontrollably.

because the game was tight, akira had been on the bench and nico, dawson, dougie and timo were all around the face off circle

dougie and timo knew to leave tanner be- if she was offended they’d know. nico and dawson each grabbed jack by the collar, feeling him jerk against them

“this is the weirdest chirping i’ve ever heard, matty,” tanner laughed, a little confused at jacks anger. this was what matthew was known for- he should know it’s nothing serious

“that wasn’t a chirp,” matt winked, jack moving against nico and dawsons grip once again. dawson tilted his head a little, releasing his grip and patting jack on the shoulder, earning a glare from nico

charlie had rolled her eyes, still in position and finding the whole situation fairly funny.

“i’m not into that. ask him,” she nodded to jack, his face flushing a little while matt smiled

despite the fact that she saw no reason to be mad, tanner wasn’t gonna let jack go without defence.

“i’m fucking with him,” she nodded, smiling over at matt. “i know, he’ll get over it. but for future reference, women in committed relationships don’t like to be flirted with,” she gave him a pointed look and he nodded, putting his fist out for a truce

“just orphan jokes, then?” she smiled, knocking her glove against his

“just orphan jokes,”

#e’s 500 celly!#hooked au!#e’s blurbs!#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #new jersey devils

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orcinus-the-orca · 3 months ago

Text

Whumptober Day 08: Sleep Deprivation | Isolation chamber | Forced to stay awake | “Leave the lights on”

Guess whaaaat, it's more Parlor Tricks! This was completely incidental, the stroke of luck kicking in for day 7. Just to let you all in on a little secret, I have ideas written for every day of Whumptober prompts save for a few (day 7 being one that didn't have any concrete ideas). This planning of mine is mostly the reason I'm continuing with Whumptober; they're just too good to pass up!

Okay, rambling over. Enjoy!

Kaito was severely underprepared, and this time there was no pulling out. He really should have seen this coming, should have known that they would do anything if it meant they got what they wanted. His mistake was thinking that it would only be his life at risk. The truth was, the opposite was true.

The woman with the voice, that horribly gentle voice, had come in and asked the same question. At that point, he had given up answering at all, learning that any answer but the one they wanted earned him a brutal reminder that he was awake; he was alive. His silence wasn’t taken lightly, either. The woman, touching him so gently and promising him it would be so much better if he just cooperated, had to pull away when he responded with a snap of his teeth. She didn’t even the decency to cry out, only snicker as she turned her back on him.

“Why don’t we leave the lights on,” she said, her voice so very heavy and comforting. “Perhaps a change of perspective will convince you into good behavior.”

The perspective turned out to be insanity, or at least the cusp of it. Kaito was very aware the risks of sleep deprivation, and he could feel the adverse affects. The room was empty, he knew that for a fact, but he swore he could hear someone shuffling in the corner. There was no evidence, no shadow (yet) but logic was fleeting. He began to question if he was really remembering right or if he had been awake for that long. Maybe if he could rest his eyes–

BZZT.

He stutters awake, limbs jerking as his brain struggles to coordinate. The culprit is the collar around his neck. It’s not electrical, it isn’t shocking him into wakefulness, but it does buzz violently when it detects he’s falling asleep. At least, that’s what he assumes. They never told him, had simply slipped it on and walked out.

He needed an out. If he was having auditory hallucinations, then he was nearing the fourth stage if he wasn’t already there. He tried to recount what all the symptoms were for each stage, if only to gauge where he was at, but he was so tired. If he could just close his eyes for a minute.

BZZT.

“I GET IT!” He slammed his head into the wall, regretting it immediately when the room spun faster than before. Why were the lights so bright? Couldn’t they dampen them a little bit so his eyes wouldn’t hurt? Nooo, they had to make him feel sick. Make him feel miserable, as though his whole life weren’t already a train wreck. He lifts his head, still throbbing from the hit, to look at the camera in the corner. “I bet you think this is…this is…”

His head hits the floor, followed by the rest of him. He hopes the position won’t trigger the buzzing collar, hopes it’ll leave him alone so he can at least rest his neck. He needs to keep it together, needs to remind himself of reality, but it’s getting so very hard to focus. To think, even. Why is he even here? What is so important that they would torture him like this?

Because you’re KID. Because you have what they want. Don’t let them have it. Don’t let his death be in vain.

Wherever the thought comes from, he’s not sure. It’s not his, so he decides it’s probably KID’s. It makes sense, KID is meant to know how to escape these things. It’s him who prides himself in his ability to escape from anything. Maybe he should be here instead, since he’s so good at it. Kaito hasn’t done anything deserving of this.

I do appreciate your hard work, Kuroba-san. Hold out a little longer, yeah? For Ol’ Pop’s sake.

BZZT.

“Do it yourself,” Kaito hisses, fingers pulling at the tightly wound collar. “You good for nothing–“

What would Pop think?

“Pops is dead! If he cared so much, he wouldn’t fu–“

BZZT.

“I’M AWAKE!”

It’s not glamorous, I will admit. But you took this responsibility, everyone is counting on you. Even when the lights fade, keep your poker face.

Never let them know you’ve stumbled.

Time passes, he hears the door open. He opens his eyes.

“How are we feeling?” Asks the woman, lips twisted into a wicked smile.

KID smiles back. “How pleasant it is to see you again, Gila-san.”

#whumptober 2024 #no.8 #sleep deprivation #isolation chamber #forced to stay awake #“leave the lights on”#dcmk #fic #hallucinations #auditory hallucinations #implied at least #kuroba kaito #kaitou kid #parlor tricks au #my writing #rough drafts #get sleep folks #It is actually so important you do

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skzhua · 2 years ago

Text

i'll show you ('your eyes' series)

♡ "I need to see it to believe it."

pairing: seo changbin x reader.

genre: fluff, slight angst.

word count: 8,589

warnings: swearing, suggestive, reader is lowkey mean in the beginning.

summary: hearing changbin telling your friend, hwayoung, that he is convinced he can organize a better date than the guy who ruined hers, you can only laugh at him. persuaded he can prove you otherwise, he bets he can make you fall for him by going out with him on a date. the competitive in you accepts.

a/n: i'm so sorry this took this long for me to post!! inspiration was kind of dead these days and i've had a rough pass but i'm back!! enjoy this one, i think it might be a close favourite to minho's scenario~

SERIES MASTERLIST

Class was dismissed, which meant it was finally time for you to drag Changbin to the small ramen place you discovered the previous week. He was as much a foodie as you were, which justified perfectly why the both of you got along so well. Apart from your usual mean (but friendly) comments, you would rarely have arguments with the man.

Arriving to your locker, your roommate, Hwayoung, was crying her eyes out. Well, more like her eyes were puffy red and she sniffled loudly. Anyway, she was crying. This only meant one thing : another failed attempt at dating. She had always had the need of being in a relationship, so she tried every dating app that could exist. Her poor best friend, Jisung, had to watch all of this while crushing massively on the girl. You felt bad for the both of them. Meanwhile, Changbin pointed out her sadness with a joke.

"Your eyes are red, did you get high or something?" he laughed which earned him a small punch in his stomach from you.

Hwayoung's eyes got filled with more tears as Jisung rubbed her back in comfort. "I know I don't have much success with dating, but did this jerk have to tell me in my face that I'm an annoying piece of shit?"

Jisung winced at the sight and brought her into his arms. The first time you met the pair, you were convinced they were romantically involved since they would always be touching each other in some way. Plus, it was almost as it they never left the other's side. To say the least, you were practically shocked to learn they were only friends.

Changbin scoffed cockily from the words Hwayoung spilled. "There are plenty of other guys in this school. Even myself could take you on a proper date and treat you with actual respect."

Jisung sent a glare to his older friend, unsure on why he would be suggesting such a thing while being well aware of his feelings for the girl. "Right." he muttered under his breath.

You felt bad for the guy and, most importantly, wanted to beat Changbin's ass for making such an inappropriate comment. "As if you could date." you laughed.

"Might I remind you that I used to be very popular in high school." he said proudly.

"Used to be." you pointed out. "I haven't seen you go out even once with someone since I met you."

"I swear I'm a gentleman."

"Dude, you insult people 90% of the time."

"It's different, I don't intend on dating y'all."

Somehow, this grandly affected you. "I'm as much dateable as you are. Probably more."

Jisung let out a groan, unimpressed by your useless argument. "Guys, we have more important issues, here." he cocked his head towards the girl in his arms.

"Right." you coughed. "Sorry, Hwayoung."

"Not, it's fine. You two are much more dateable than I am, that's for sure." she whimpered.

Not knowing what to do, you threw a panicked glance at Jisung. "What do we do?" you mouthed.

"I got this." he mouthed back as he rolled his eyes. "Hey." he made the girl look at him. "How about we have a movie night together? It'll help you, I think."

Hwayoung hesitated as her eyes shifted towards you. "I don't know. Y/N and I had plans."

You shook your head vigorously. "Go with Jisung. We'll do our girls night another time."

She thanked you, grateful, and headed out, still in Jisung's arms. The boy mouthed a "thanks" as he lead his friend outside the school.

"So? That ramen place?" Changbin breathed out, turning to face you.

With a grin, you closed your locker and dragged him to the small store near campus. You had gone once with Hwayoung and you were dying to bring someone else to eat there with you, only to give yourself an excuse to spend on unhealthy food.

When reading the menu, Changbin frowned as he checked the ingredients. "Do you want me to ruin my efforts with my work out?" he pointed to the amount of calories.

"Stop being a baby." you rolled your eyes. "It has more protein than grease, I swear."

Still unconvinced, he ended up ordering the beef ramen anyway, while you ordered the spicy chicken. Waiting patiently for the food to come, you showed Changbin some pictures you had taken that week of your mutual friends. Felix was looking oddly disturbed in one, so you turned it into a meme and Changbin was living for it.

The food eventually arrived and you wasted no time to dig in, slurping loudly as you ate the noodles. Changbin was pleasantly surprised at the taste and complimented your choice of restaurant. You both had never eaten that fast and it took you no time to finish your meals. You insisted on paying since you were the one to invite him, but he was not going to let you get away that easy.

"What kind of gentleman am I if I don't pay?" he scoffed, pulling out his wallet.

"Ah, right. Because you are a total gentleman." you rolled your eyes. "You're the damsel here, let me pay."

He glared at you but you happily went to the counter and paid. You headed out to go back home with a pissed Changbin who was pouting like a child.

"Quit being a baby." you nudged his arm and he only sent you another glare in return. "Fine, you'll pay next time then?"

"No, it's not about that." he mumbled.

"What is it then? Is it because I called you a lady?" you laughed.

"It's because you really don't believe me when I say I can be a perfect gentleman. I swear I was such a catch in high school." he whined.

"Yeah, it's because you whine like this all the time that I don't believe you." you chuckled, gesturing to his childish behaviour.

"I swear I am."

"Uh, uh."

"I'm not bullshitting, Y/N."

"I need to see it to believe it."

"Then let me show you!" he exclaimed in frustration and you stopped walking to stare at him.

You perked an eyebrow, confused on whether you had heard him right or not. "Repeat, please?"

"Let me show you I can be a perfect date. I bet you could fall in love with me right after that."

You huffed in pure disbelief, but the look on his face remained serious. "Dude, you're not being serious."

"Never been more serious."

"Is this about your pride or something?"

He smirked. "Totally is about my pride."

You laughed as he kept a straight face. "I'm so ready to not give you that satisfaction. Alright, deal. Take me on a date and we'll see if you're really all that great."

Changbin grinned wickedly. Little did the both of you know this was probably the worst idea ever, but neither was ready to lose in front of the other.

A month or so had passed and neither of you brought the subject up again. It was like it never happened, and you were more than pleased to ignore it. Frankly, you didn't want to go on a date with Changbin. He was handsome, you would never deny that. However, you could not see him romantically ever. Thus, you doubted he would even succeed in making you like him.

Coming into the local store, you waved at Eunhee, the worker who was doing nothing other than watching a movie on her phone instead of working.

"You're alone today?" you asked while you searched for your favourite candies.

"Jeongin's on his break, he's in the backstore."

"I see." you nodded your head slowly before walking up to the beverages. "Did you guys receive any new drinks?"

Eunhee checked her inventory list real quick before shaking her head. "We have those nasty ass juices, though." she pointed at the bottles to your left.

"Ew, no thanks."

You picked your usual drinks and came to the cash to pay. "Are you almost done with your shift?" you asked while she typed something on the computer next to her.

"I finish in an hour." she groaned.

"Stop complaining, I do the night shift today." Jeongin said as he came from the back. "Hey, Y/N." he waved at you.

"Night shift? Rough." you commented. "We're having a little get-together just now."

"The beers are for the boys?"

"Yeah." you shrugged. "But mostly Changbin."

You finished paying and left the two workers to head back to Changbin's flat. He welcomed you with a big hug before helping you with your bags. Analyzing your surroundings, it felt nice to know the boys did clean once in a while. For the first time, you could actually see the colour of the floor.

"Did Chan force you to clean up?" you joked, putting the drinks in the fridge.

"No, I simply thought it wouldn't hurt to put our dirty clothes away." he shrugged. He opened one of the beer pack, and held one out to you. "Want one?"

"You're already drinking?"

"It's literally the first time I get to relax since the week started, let me live!"

Chan came out of his room and waved briefly at you as he still had his phone against his ear. He hurried the caller to hang up. Changbin snorted as he took a sip of his beer. He dropped on the couch, patting the spot next to him to invite you to join him, but you shook your head as a refusal.

"You're going to stand there all night?" he lifted an eyebrow at you.

"I'll take a seat eventually, jeez." you breathed out.

Chan finally ended the call, and sighed in relief. He took a beer for himself and sat next to Changbin, throwing his head back in exhaustion.

"You good, there?" you asked him.

"School things, nothing much." he said, drinking his beverage.

"Men." you snorted upon watching the pair drinking lazily, even though it was barely 6pm. "Are Ji and Hwa coming tonight?"

"Jisung confirmed, but I believe Hwayoung is going out with Junsoo." Chan answered.

The name sounded familiar. You searched through your mind where you had heard it before. Unsure, you opened your social medias to look the name up. The moment you clicked on a profile, your eyes grew bigger.

"This jerk?" you exclaimed, shoving the screen to their faces.

Changbin frowned. "Isn't this the guy who tried to get you in his pants at the party last year?"

"I'm amazed you even remember, Bin. You passed out on that night." you clapped your hands slowly, earning a glare.

"She's going out with this guy?" Chan huffed. "Should we tell Jisung?"

"He'll go crazy if we do so." you dismissed his suggestion. "I just hope she'll be fine by the end of her date."

Jisung and Minho were the next ones to arrive, followed by Sora not too long after. For the night, you settled on simply hanging out in the living room, put some music, and drink while chatting. Sora, getting more intoxicated as time passed, fell asleep on Chan's shoulder.

"Someone needs to watch her alcohol consumption." you laughed out as you took another sip of your own drink.

You repositioned yourself on your seat and stumbled by yourself, almost falling on Changbin. "Look who's speaking." he laughed as he caught you in time. "Should I get you back home? I know you work tomorrow morning." he asked softly, stroking the locks of your hair.

"You're no fun." you pouted and he raised an eyebrow at you. "Fine, I suppose you are right."

Your things were near where Jisung was sitting. He had not included himself much during the night, as he had his eyes fixated on his phone. As you approached him, you noticed he was in call as he said Hwayoung's name with a frown on his face.

"Hwayoung, baby, where are you? What did he do?" he stood up so suddenly.

You and Changbin stepped aside as he started to grab his belongings in a hurry. He then suddenly stopped what he was doing.

"Of course, we don't mind. Come right up and I'll make you some tea. Does it sound okay for you?" he asked, and you assumed Hwayoung answered on the other side of the line. "Come up quickly."

Changbin sent him a look, as the rest of you were doing. Jisung looked uncomfortable as he was now the center of attention.

"You can go in my room, if you want." Chan offered. "I'll sleep at Minho's instead."

"When did I agree with this?" Minho argued, until Chan glared at him.

"Thank you. Can I use your boiler to make her some tea?" Jisung replied, earning an approval from the older man.

As he was preparing the things for the girl, she knocked at the door and Jisung almost drowned her in a hug. You and Changbin took this opportunity to leave the place quietly, waving briefly at the others.

The weather was nice. There was a cool breeze, but not too cold for you to be freezing. Anyway, you were already hot as it is, still having alcohol in your system. Nonetheless, Changbin still brought you closer to him.

"I swear to God, Hwayoung needs to stop going out." you whined. "Why is she doing this to herself? To be fair, the boys here all suck." You turned to look at Changbin, not even a bit stunned by how close your face was to his. "Why do you suck?"

His gaze went down on your lips for a brief moment, but he shook it off with a cough. "I told you I'm a good candidate for dating."

You scoffed, sending the smell of liquor to his face. "You're still onto that date thing?"

"I was being serious. I'm convinced you'll see how I actually am a great guy."

"Bin, you're a good friend, but you're a man. And men are assholes."

He couldn't deny there was a lot of truth in what you were saying. He, himself, had seen his older sister struggle with that aspect and, frankly, he couldn't believe how they could be such jerks.

"I'm not like that."

You whistled in a teasing way. "Binnie having his quirky moment."

He deadpanned at you. "Shut up, you know what I meant."

"Fine." you finally agreed. "This time, for real, we're going on a date."

"Good with me." Changbin affirmed. "When do you want to do this?"

"Tomorrow?"

You surprised yourself with your boldness and he was even more shocked. You had already got to your dorm, so you waved him carelessly goodbye before heading inside, leaving him no time to argue. Your cheeks were flushed and you weren't so sure if it was because of the alcohol anymore. You still went ahead and took a long shower to freshen up.

When it was time to go to bed, you heard a notification sound coming from your phone multiple times. You didn't bother checking who was being so insistant, being too tired from your evening. Before you knew it, you were sound asleep.

Regret. You would say you never regretted anything in your life. You genuinely thought you could only learn from bad experiences and embrace them as part of your life. But now, you could only feel regret.

And that, ever since that morning, when you saw the messages Changbin had sent you. The same ones you had decided to ignore the previous night.

Changbin: Tomorrow? You do realize this gives me so little time to prepare an actual good date?

Changbin: Y/N, answer me!

Changbin: Did you fall asleep yet?

Changbin: Alright, tomorrow it is, then. I think I can manage to organize something.

Changbin: Do you like something simple or extravagant?

Changbin: Don't answer that.

Changbin: Well, I guess you are sleeping... I'll call you tomorrow, okay?

You were in panic, to say the least. You would been just fine if you two hadn't brought up the topic of the date again. But here you were. Why were you even being nervous about it? You should be feeling okay with it, you're the one who said he wouldn't be able to woo you, so you didn't understand why he was already having this effect on you without even doing anything yet.

"Stop biting your nails!" Hwayoung slapped your hand away from your face. "You keep getting distracted, are you okay?"

You deadpanned at her, not believing she was the one asking you if you were okay while she was crying her eyes out the previous night. "Am I okay? Hwa, you were literally crying a river yesterday, but you agreed to go on a date the next day. Are you good?"

"Minyoung seems nice." she shrugged.

"That's what you said for all the other guys, but sure." you mumbled under your breath. "Anyway, help me pick an outfit." She started to laugh uncontrollably, leaving you confused. "What did I say?"

"You want me to help you dress? We dress nothing alike, Y/N." she kept on giggling. "And might I remind you this is a date with Seo Changbin."

"It's still a date."

"Fine." she snorted. "What are you two going to do?"

"I don't know, I ignored his calls and left him on read since this morning."

She froze from your words. Out of all her friends, you were one to never be good with romance or anything of that sort. If anything, she considered you as a lost cause. This only confirmed her thoughts.

"You're so dumb, I swear." she sighed desperately before stealing your phone.

"Hwayoung!" you yelled out, trying to get your phone back.

She opened it easily since she knew your password and went ahead to look at your messages. "It's in an hour and forty five minutes at his parents' place." She frowned before looking up at you. "You've been to his house before?"

"Yeah, like once, but it was only because he had to get his mom's soup and I happened to be hanging out with him when she called."

"Uh." she nodded her head, deep in thoughts. "Alright, then I suggest you wear one of my skirts with that pretty shirt of yours that you wore last time we went to the bar together."

Before you could say anything, she threw your phone back at you and went to her closet, searching for a certain piece of clothing. She then shot at you her red plaid skirt, which earned a glare from you.

"What?" she exclaimed, defensive. "It's cute, and it matches with your top."

You grunted, throwing your head back. "Okay, I'll wear this. But I hate you."

"Stop lying, I'm literally saving your life right now."

You stuck out your tongue at her before leaving the room to get dressed. When you came back, Hwayoung squealed at the sight of you. She insisted on doing your makeup and hair, and you obliged. She wasn't giving you much of a choice anyway. Once satisfied with her work, she hurried you out of the dorm, almost like a mother who had prepped her daughter for her first day of school.

"Don't be home too late, or at least text me if you sleep over at his place." You glared at her for the hundredth time of the day. "And use protection!" she added.

"You're insufferable, even more than Bin."

"Have fun!" she ignored your comment before she closed the door.

Left alone in the hallway, you took a deep breath. You had no choice but to go now. You left the building as you checked the buses near you so you could get to Changbin's house as soon as possible.

While you were on the bus, he had called you again. You felt bad, but you really didn't want to talk to him just yet. Plus, it might ruin the element of surprise if you talked to him beforehand.

You got there sooner than you had anticipated. There was no car in the parking lot, meaning his parents must have left to leave the house available. You took all of your courage and walked to the door. After knocking, you waited for an answer. However, there was none. You tried again, but were left outside as it seemed there was nobody in the house. You took a chance by walking around and dared to go in their backyard. The moment you took a sniff of some food getting cooked, you didn't hesitate to open the gate.

There he was, Seo Changbin, in all of his glory. He dressed nicely with a white buttoned shirt and with his hair styled. Still, you couldn't help but laugh as you saw him with an apron on. This caused the man to shoot his head up, finally seeing you.

"Hey, Y/N! I didn't expect you to actually come." he chuckled.

You stopped laughing as you gave him a small smile as a sorry. "I had some stuff to do, I didn't get the time to reply."

"Glad you could make it." he said as he approached you. "You look beautiful, by the way. Skirts suit you."

You wanted to curse at him for saying something like this, but you couldn't. Changbin had come close enough to kiss your cheek and place his hand on your back, leading you to the table. You felt your heart stop for a bit, until it started to beat again when you saw the setup he made. He had laid out the utensils and plates beautifully on the table and he had arranged the place with some lights to give a romantic ambiance. He had already started to cook the steaks, and the smell was undeniably delicious.

"I am actually impressed." you said after he pushed your chair to sit comfortably at the table. "Are you always like this to girls?" you snickered.

"I am, I told you." he smiled as he went back to cooking the meat. "And I told you already, this is a proper date. Forget that we are friends for tonight."

This stuck in your mind. Forgetting that you are friends implied that he was going to treat you differently. Proof was how he had welcomed you, which had made your stomach flip around. You came here to prove something but you were already failing. You just couldn't lose in front of him. So you were going to act as well.

"Alright, handsome." you winked at him, which had seemingly worked to take him aback.

"R-Right." he stammered before letting out a small cough.

You could see from afar his Adam's apple move as he gulped, probably out of shyness. He proceeded to put some music on to fill the silence in the meantime that the food gets grilled.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"It was fine. I worked on some homework and cleaned up my dorm for once. I also hung out with Hwayoung a bit before coming here. The usual..."

"That's nice. Was Hwayoung feeling better?"

"She was. She actually got herself another date so, it's going for her..." you trailed off. "What about your day?"

He shrugged while starting to put away the meat on a plate. "It was fine, other than I was a bit stressed with setting up all of this." he admitted while gesturing the whole backyard. "I asked my mom and my sister for some help. I hope it's to your liking."

You were not used to him speaking to you like this. And it didn't help that he looked so fucking good while cooking and casually taking some sips of his water. When did he get this handsome?

"I love it, thank you." you smiled at him warmly.

He brought the food on the table and proceeded to present each dish, not forgetting to mention on why he chose each of them as they reminded him of you. If this is not peak domestic life material, you don't know what it is. But you liked it. A lot.

"The dessert is a surprise."

You frowned as you started to serve yourself. "Can't you tell me right away?"

He shook his head. "Enjoy your food for now."

"Alright. Thank you, Binnie." you chuckled.

You took a piece of the steak and ate it with some edamame he had prepared earlier. As soon as it touched your tasting buds, you couldn't believe how tender and yet buttery it was. You took another piece, just to be sure you were tasting it properly, and your eyes widened at the flavour. Changbin was looking at you expectedly, unsure if your reaction was a result of disgust or satisfaction.

"And?" he asked, biting his lip in nervousness.

"Where the fuck did you learn how to cook?"

He blinked a few times, processing your question. "I just followed my mom's recipes, to be honest."

"Well, tell your mom she makes great food. But since you were to one to cook tonight, I'd like to send my compliments to the chef."

He grinned at your words. "I'll let him know, thank you."

He then suddenly got up and told you to wait for a minute before he went inside the house. You were going to deduce a few points for leaving his date outside alone. Still, the food in front of you was enough for you to not complain. As he came back, he was holding a bottle of wine with two glasses.

"Trying to make me drunk on the first date?" you joked.

"Y/N, we aren't friends right now." he gave you a serious look. "Act as if I'm an actual guy who asked you out, please."

"Sorry..." you mumbled. "What kind is it?"

He let out a small laugh as he rubbed the back of his head. "I don't know, actually. It was in the fridge and my mom told me I could take it for tonight. Do you want a glass?"

"For sure."

Like a professional, he served you a glass, before serving himself, and he brought it up in the air. "Thank you for agreeing on going out with me."

You copied his action. "And thank you for planning out all of this. I'd have to say, not a lot of guys would go all the way from making the food to even do the decorations. It's very sweet."

You clang your glasses together before taking a sip each. The taste wasn't that bad, but it wasn't good either. You never were one for the wines, anyway. You were still in your Smirnoff sugary drinks era.

"What is your ideal type?"

This was a surprise. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. The question was too bold to your liking.

"What's yours?" you managed to say.

He smirked at you, and you just knew then that you shouldn't have said that. "You, of course."

"I'm flattered." you played along, ignoring the beating of your heart getting faster. "But I'm genuinely curious."

He thought for a moment. "I'd say someone simple who doesn't take life too seriously. Kind of like how I am, actually. I do like physical contact, so someone who's comfortable with that. And I like when someone is being themselves, it's the most attractive thing in my opinion."

You debated internally whether he was describing you intentionally for the whole purpose of the date, or if he was being sincere. You decided to opt for the second option, trying to make yourself believe there was a possibility he liked you. But you didn't like him, no. You only wanted to think that for your pride.

"For me, I'd say something similar to yours. But I want someone I know I can trust. Though you can never be sure on who to count on, I think your lover is supposed to be the first person you think of when wanting to talk about, I don't know, a stressful day or situation."

"That makes sense, yeah." You chuckled at his words, and he frowned. "What is it?"

"I don't know, you seem to be agreeing easily."

"I'm only being honest." he shrugged. "And now, I'm hungry." he breathed out as he stood up.

You hadn't even noticed you were done with eating by then. "You want more food?"

"The dessert." he simply said before walking to the grill again.

He searched in the box next to it and pulled out long metal sticks. Searching again, he then pulled a bag before showing it to you.

"This reminds me of when we all went camping last summer. I don't know why, but that night, when we decided to make marshmallows, I just thought you were breathtaking with the fire as the only source of light for me to see you. And then, you shared yours with me because I burnt mine... I think this was the rise of our friendship."

There was so much sincerity in his voice, you wanted to cry. You still refrained yourself from doing so since Hwayoung had put mascara on your lashes, but it was hard not to.

"I remember it too. We drank a lot." you laughed. "I slept in your tent that night."

He let out a nostalgic laugh, before taking the marshmallows out of the bag to put them on the sticks. "Yeah, you did. You fell asleep right away. I just knew then that I'd want you around for as long as possible."

The unexpected shift from a simple dinner to this deep conversation was too much for you. Changbin had won your stupid little deal. Everything he said brought you back to memories with him that you had never shared with anyone else. Even with Hwayoung, who you'd consider your best friend at that point. He was a constant in your life, and you'd be absolutely torn apart if he ever disappeared from it.

"Me too. We just got so much closer from then on, it felt right." you said, and he smiled at you.

"I'm glad we did. Now, do you want to help me with this? Because I might start a fire." he laughed out.

"You must have improved since last summer. Go ahead. You're the gentleman, after all?"

"Are you the bossy one when in a relationship?" he lifted an eyebrow at you.

"You could say that." you smirked.

And as predicted, he did burn the marshmallows. It was hilarious and added some fun to the evening, easing the mood after the deep conversation you shared. The night went on smoothly. Some jokes here, a few flirts there... You hated to admit it, but it was the best date you had gone on. Even considering the ones with your exes.

"I hate to break the mood, but I'm kind of cold."

"Oh." Changbin let out. "I know this is the first date only, but do you want to go inside? It might warm you up a bit."

You nodded your head, and he immediately led you inside. You had gone inside his house before, so it wasn't so weird. You opted to sit on the couch comfortably to continue your chatting.

"Damn, this couch is comfortable as hell." you exclaimed, feeling yourself melt into the cushions.

"I know, right?" he laughed.

You repositioned yourself a little, and then realized you were slowly getting closer to Changbin. He didn't seem to mind. Having mentioned he liked physical affection, it didn't surprise you much. But you wanted to test the waters. So you got even closer.

"Bin?" you said, tone soft.

"Yeah?"

"You said to forget we are friends tonight, right?"

"Yes." he responded, though he was not exactly sure on why you were asking this while getting dangerously close to him.

"So, we can agree tonight is kind of a free pass? Like, we won't talk about it other than if you did a good job or not at taking me on a date?"

He frowned as he bit down his lip. "I mean, if that's what you want, yes."

"So then, is it okay if I-" you stopped yourself for speaking any further.

You didn't need to anyway. You were too far close to his mouth that he understood what you meant. He gave you a small nod and you attached your lips to his in a matter of milliseconds. He tasted sweet because of your shared marshmallows mixed with a bit of wine. Though the combo sounds horrid, it was an addictive taste and you just could not get enough of it. Soon, you found yourself on his lap, hands playing with his hair as his were squeezing your figure. He made his way to leave a trail of kisses on your jawline before attacking your neck. You could tell he had experience since he found your sweet spot almost immediately. Startled, you unintentionally let out a soft moan.

"Fuck, Y/N, are you that sensitive?" he growled, and then proceeded to suck on your skin again.

"Fuck you."

"If that's what you want." he joked. "That skirt really does something to me."

He went back to kissing your lips, hungry for your taste. He was needy, but remained gentle.

"Thank Hwayoung for that." you said in-between the kisses, breathing heavily.

"I'd have to apologize for ripping it apart too, yeah."

He had walked you back home safely that night. You would have stayed at his place, but that if the situation was different. This wasn't genuine. You had slept together only as a result of a fake date. Was it good? Damn yes it was. Did you wish you would be waking up to his naked figure as the sun hit his perfect face? Yes, you did. But there was an agreement. Only for that night.

So that's what happened, nothing more. The next day, by some magic, you got the courage to reach out to him and exchange in a call.

"How was it?" he asked.

"The date or the sex?" you pondered and he chuckled.

"Both."

"Both were good, but both were missing something." you lied. "I'm sorry, Seo, but you lost. No feelings there."

He laughed. "I saw it coming. Alright, but you have to admit that I am a good first date."

"I'll give you that at least, yeah."

"See you at school?"

"Yeah, see you."

Things went back as normal quickly. You had silently agreed to not tell the others. You were more than okay with this, not wanting to face the teasing from your friends. Although things were okay, they were not at the same time. There was visibly an unspoken tension between the two of you, but you acted as if it didn't exist.

A week had passed when he called you to tell you he and Chan were hosting, yet, another of their hangouts. After confirming you would be present, you rushed to the convenience store to get the drinks, as you would always do.

"What are these?" you hummed at Eunhee, holding a bottle containing a dark purple liquid.

She lifted her head up from her book and shrugged. "I think it's some sort of fruit punch juice with alcohol."

You read the label and frowned. "It can't be so bad, I suppose."

You paid quickly for your things and, soon, you found yourself in Changbin's apartment with him hugging you tightly as you had just stepped foot inside.

"Hey, Bin." you whispered in his ear.

You let go of him as you made yourself at home. You started to unpack your groceries and you noticed Sora hanging out on the sofa.

"Hey, Sora!" you waved at her.

"Hi." she waved back. "What did you get for us?"

"Beers for the guys, and I found this fruit punch thing. I thought we could try it out." you shrugged while showing her the weird liquor. "And I got this for our Jisungie." you said while holding up the Fanta he would always ask for.

Changbin shook his head. "About that, he won't come tonight. He said something along the lines that Hwayoung was out with some guy and that he didn't want what happened last time to repeat itself."

You and Sora exchanged knowing looks before she got up from the couch. "Oh well, I'll have the Fanta, then." she sighed before snatching it out of your hand.

It didn't long for Chan and Minho to join the lot with food. You went to help them out and then sat next to Changbin. Minho asked about Jisung's absence, and you went on to discussing about the poor man's love life.

"Alright, I'm blue this time!" Changbin exclaimed as you decided to start playing the board game he had prepared.

"I wanted blue." you mumbled, looking at him taking the pawn.

He flickered his eyes from you to the piece of plastic in his hand. Why had you this much effect on him?

"I'll be green, then." he sighed.

Your eyes glowed, taking the pawn from him to place it on the board. The game went along, simarly to the previous week. Some chitchatting, a couple of laughs... It was pleasant, until Chan and Sora started to discuss. You could feel her tense while he kept on bragging about Eunhee, his new friend.

She nodded her head along what he was saying, visibly uneasy. "Right. Sorry, I have a headache. Minho, do you mind helping me get some medicine?"

"No, of course." Minho immediately answered as he sat up.

Chan frowned. "Are you alright? I can help if you want and-"

"No." she exclaimed, cutting him off. "I'm okay, really. Thanks."

Her and Minho left the room while you and Changbin looked at each other. Chan went on his phone, and since Sora was up next to play the game, the two of you moved from sitting on the floor to the loveseat behind you.

"So? How was work today?" Changbin breathed out as he stretched his arm behind you.

"It was fine. I just couldn't wait to come here, though." you chuckled.

As you took a sip of your bizarre drink, he shifted his position to get a better look at you. "Ah yeah? You wanted to see me that bad?"

"Not everything is about you." you laughed out. "But essentially, yes." you admitted.

He froze. Gulping his saliva, he felt his heart clenching.

"Give me this." he shook his head, taking the bottle from you.

While you were fighting him to get it back, he searched for the percentage of alcohol on the label. Understandably enough, it had more than 10%, and you drank more than needed.

"Y/N, jeez. I thought you hated alcohol."

You shrugged, taking it back. "It tastes like grape juice. Plus, it's only my third one. I'm fine, I swear." you snorted.

"Sure you are, babe." he joked, but you blushed.

"This fake date got into your head too much." you said in a quieter tone.

"You're right, it didn't leave my mind once."

By then, Sora and Minho had come back and were seemingly about to leave. Chan argued with her a little, until he gave her a hug as they opened the door.

"Always. Good night Chan. Bye, guys!" she waved at the two of you.

You helped the boys to clean around and do the dishes since you were pretty much done with the night.

"Do you mind if she stays the night?" Changbin eventually asked Chan, as if you were not in the same room as them.

"No, it's alright." he nodded before leaving the room.

You huffed, making the man turn to you. "I would have gone back home, you know?"

"Come on, it's not the first time you sleep in a bed with me." he winked, but you slapped his chest.

"Chan could hear you." you shushed him. "And it wasn't the same kind of sleeping. I'll be fine in the living room."

You were about to get some blankets, but he took your wrist to stop you. Perplexed, you frowned at him as he stepped closer to you.

"It could be a different kind of sleeping." He lifted his free hand close to your cheek, and gently tucked your hair behind your ear. "You should know I give great cuddles, too."

You hummed, not being able to think about anything to respond. He was way too close for you to be able to compute anything in your brain.

"Come with me, okay?"

You nodded, and he led you to his room. He didn't bother getting ready for bed. He simply pulled you into his arms and brought the covers to engulf the both of you. He was warm and soft, which was something you hadn't expected. Being the buff man he is, you would have thought it'd be feeling like laying on a rock. But no. This was the most comfortable you had felt in a long time. Before you knew it, you were already dozing off to sleep.

You would be lying if you said Changbin hadn't become a constant in your trail of thoughts as time went by. Everywhere you went, you'd spot something that reminded you of him. It was crazy how he made you feel like this in such a short amount of time.

"And hear this: he didn't even text me afterwards. Can you believe it?" Hwayoung complained to you while you watched Changbin get your orders at the counter.

"He'll do it eventually, don't worry." you tried to reassure her.

Changbin arrived with your latte and served Hwayoung her muffin she had asked for. She unwrapped it eagerly before shoving it whole into her mouth. You looked at her in disbelief.

"I would have never guessed that Jisung was the one who put you in this state." you huffed.

"Not my fault he ghosted me after he kissed me." she spat out, her mouth still full. "You should talk with someone when something like this happens instead of ignoring the issue. For real, it's like you fucked a close friend and then never establish what happens next. And sex is a big deal, as much as kissing is."

You felt Changbin glancing at you, but you remained unfazed. In a reassuring manner, you rubbed Hwayoung's back while she kept on cursing Jisung out.

"He might come to the party tonight. Take it as your chance to talk with him." you suggested.

However, she shook her head violently. "Forget about him. I'll just have fun tonight."

"This will go well..." you heard Changbin mutter sarcastically under his breath, making you laugh.

Afterwards, while Hwayoung wanted to go back to your dorm to get ready, you didn't feel the need to freshen up. You friend was stubborn, though, and wanted for you to look at your very best that night. She did the same as when you had your date with Changbin and she lent you one of her dresses. Good enough for you, it wasn't as short as what she, herself, wore on a daily basis. Still, it remained a dress nonetheless.

"I hate it." you said in a bored tone as you looked at yourself in the mirror. "Why do my boobs look like this? And why do you look gorgeous and I'm like a potato?"

She laughed at your words, visibly amused by your pain. "You look stunning. Changbin won't be able to look at anyone but you."

You turned slowly and sent her a questioning look. "What did you say?"

"Oh come on, Y/N, we're not blind. We all know the two of you fucked on your 'platonic' date. It was obvious."

You scoffed. "As if we didn't know for years you had a crush on Jisung." you spat out back.

"I said we forget about him." she rolled her eyes. "Now, are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

"That you love him?"

"Are you?"

She whined, getting frustrated with you. "I don't love Jisung. Just answer my questions."

"Fine." you huffed. "I do love him. I'm just scared I guess... I don't want to ruin what we have. I can't do that to us."

"I suggest you talk to him tonight."

"I'll do it, if you promise me you will with Jisung."

She groaned. "I'll see? I don't know."

Sora was the one to greet the two of you when you arrived. With no Changbin in sight, you stuck closely to Hwayoung. The latter was already taking a few shots and she headed towards where people were dancing. You watched her, totally in disapproval. She eventually came to fetch you, leaving you no choice but to participate in her sensual dancing. When you felt a hand place itself on your hip, you didn't think twice before hitting the person in the balls, not in the mood of having hands all over your body. Hearing a loud familiar groan, you shot your head towards the man, only to realize you had just punched Changbin.

"Fuck, Bin, give me a warning, will you?" you said frantically as you helped him walk away from the dance area. "Your room?"

He nodded quickly and he leaned on you as you led the way. He plopped himself on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position. You would have loved to help him soothe the pain that you caused, but it wasn't necessarily the best placement.

"I'm sorry." was the only thing you thought of saying.

"It's okay." he chuckled. "I suppose I could have said hi beforehand."

"Yes, please." you laughed with him.

You took the time to check him out subtly. He had a buttoned shirt again, but this time, he left more skin to be visible with three buttons undone. His hair was a messy fluffy and he had put on a few rings and chains. You assumed he took them from Chan since he wasn't so much into jewelry.

"You look good." he said, seemingly checking you out just as much. "Is this Hwayoung's dress?"

You nodded. "You look great, too. I love the shirt."

He hummed a small thanks and then invited you to sit with him. You did so and he took your hand in his. You felt intimidated, to say the least.

"Are you going back to your parents' place this summer?" he asked.

"Most likely, why?" you tilted your head to the side.

"They still live far, right?"

"Like two hours from here." you shrugged. "It'll be nice, I mean, I haven't seen them that much in the last year."

"I see." he breathed out heavily, which made you frown.

"And you?"

"They leave close by, it's not much of a difference." he laughed and then paused for a moment, deep in thoughts. "Are we still going to see each other?"

You rolled your eyes dramatically. "You act as if I'll move away for eternity. I did the same last summer, remember?"

"It's not the same."

You scoffed. "How so?"

"I didn't like you back then."

And here it was again. The fast beating of your heart, the weird sensation in your belly, and the lust in his eyes. You were convinced he was messing with you, so you only laughed it out. His stare, however, was still serious.

"I didn't expect you to feel the same." he managed a little laugh. "You know? Because you said you didn't fall for me... I know it's stupid, but I think..."

He stopped himself again. He wanted to be careful with his words. This might be had been the only chance he got to tell you this if he wasn't going to see you for months.

"I lied." you said in a small voice.

His eyes went big as he leaned closer to you, searching for any signs of uncertainty. "Did you?"

You nodded your head embarrassingly. "After that night, I don't know... It felt so natural when it happened and I couldn't understand how you were so gentle and attentive." You let out a chuckle. "I think I was scared to lose you if I told you the truth."

He huffed. "Or were you just scared of admitting you lost?"

"That too." you smiled. "I like you too, Binnie. I'm sorry for not being honest from the start."

"So am I."

He got the hint as you shifted closer to him to kiss you and he did in a hurry. Unlike the last time you were being this intimate, it felt like he was hungrier, more needy. You moved up on his lap, and he winced in pain.

"Sorry." you laughed.

"It's not that..."

Looking down, you understood easily what he meant by that. Smirking at him, you kissed him again as he grabbed you by the ass. Slowly, he made his way to kiss your neck, and then your collarbone. He sucked on the skin only to make you let out a gasp.

"This dress is no better than the skirt from the other day." he said, voice raspy. "But I rather see it on the floor."

You were damned. He had no right to have this much effect on you. Lost in the moment, you didn't respond before he started to tug the top of the dress down, the intention of making his way to your breast.

"Changbin?" you heard someone knocking at the door, a voice similar to Jeongin.

You grumbled curses as you got off of Changbin so he could get to the door. "What is it?" he asked once he opened the door.

"Party's gone wild a bit, and Chan and Sora are fighting in the kitchen."

"What?" you exclaimed, standing up. "They never fight."

Jeongin shrugged his shoulders. "You should really go take a look. And sorry, I didn't want to interrupt..." he trailed off.

"It's fine."

The three of you walked back to the living room and, indeed, people were going wild. You spotted Hwayoung who was grinding on a man while Jisung watched from afar, jaw clenched. You made your way to him while Changbin attempted to diffuse the tension Chan and Sora were building.

"Are you alright?" you asked the man as soon as you stood next to him.

"I literally came here to tell her about, well, I assume you know?" You nodded before encouraging him to continue. "I don't get her." he sighed before drinking from the bottle in his hand.

"Hwayoung truly loves you. Honestly, I think she's scared of things changing between you two. And tonight means nothing to her, I can tell you that."

He scoffed. "I guess I understand, but I can't always be that guy. The one who's around whenever she needs it."

"I get that."

Changbin soon joined you and he quickly placed a peck on your lips. Jisung watched the two of you before scoffing again.

"Alright, lovebirds. Rub it in my face."

Changbin chuckled. "We've only just confessed."

"Yeah, well, at least your girl isn't being a total idiot..." he muttered before walking away.

Changbin brought you closer by the waist, a grin displayed on his face. "My girl, uh?" he smirked.

"You like it a bit too much I think." you laughed.

He shook his head. "I'll worry about that later. I'd like to continue where we left off if you'd like it too."

He came close to kiss you again, this time deeper and in a more sensual way as he pulled away with biting your lower lip. "Fuck you, Seo."

"Say please?"

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids college au #stray kids fluff #stray kids changbin #seo changbin #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin scenarios #seo changbin fluff #stray kids your eyes

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rreskk · 2 years ago

Note

Okay, I have this time in month so I had a creative streak and there's my fanfic ideas (maybe you'll like it 😄):

- Reader taking care of sick Trevor

- Reader giving Trevor massage (like back/shoulders/chest massage 😉)

- Reader and Trevor having a skincare time 😅

Send kisses 💋

A/N: Thank you for the list! I've done some ;)

In this fanfiction, I've included the following requests: -Reader giving Trevor as massage -Reader giving Trevor skincare.

Summary: He finally removed himself from the bed after a rough heist. The few days of caring for him was neglectful and undeserving... You felt shut out until one simple massage helped Trevor release his emotions... Through a good fuck.

Pairings: Fem!reader/Trevor Philips

Word count: 2861

TW: -Smut

You were trying to work his static TV that hogged the useless space of his trailer home. As you were fiddling with the leads and plugging in random cords with some sort of hope, Trevor returned from his bedroom and was whining loudly.

“Fuckin’… Shoulder hurts.” He muffled when cracking a bottle of beer open. Shirtless as always, his body leaned against the kitchen counter as he continued to scowl at the pain. His eyes soon found yours and he twitched. “TV still not working?”

You shook your head, “What exactly happened to it?” Having the suspicion that he broke it while under the influence of anger.

Trevor gulped some beer and shrugged lazily. He shuffled closer and peeked down at the cables but before he could, his back cracked and he heavily groaned.

“Ohhh… Fuck. My whole back is killing me.”

He had recently done a heist that involved heavy armour and quite a distance of running. Trevor only just recovered from sleeping days straight so it’s no wonder that his back is playing up. You crotched your eyebrows and lowered your hands, slowly feeling his tense shoulder blades as Trevor would shiver at the contact. He tried to focus on the TV but feeling your nails graze across his naked back placed him in a… Needy mindset.

“You have huge knots in your back.” You raised concern before placing more pressure on his shoulder blades. Your palm pressed and kneaded the rough limbs. Trevor instantly jerked his head up and breathed out a shaky sigh.

“Ohhh, that feels good.”

Before he was hunched over, now he was kneeling on the floor, absolutely engaged in your physical touch. His knees dug into the tiles and he leaned against his hands, worshipping and praising your fingers that blessed his muscles to become bearable and easy. You found it a dramatic response but knowing the activities he had pushed his body through, you couldn’t even imagine the relief he’s feeling.

Besides, you were glad to find a cure for his grumpiness. After the heist, he hasn’t exactly been enjoyable to be around. Almost insolent and improper.

“That’s right, that’s it!-“ Trevor cried out when you were caressing and massaging near his spine. His whole frame shimmering and spazzing with delight. For a moment you’d think he was actually having a fit. The way he got into the zone and pushed against your fingers, it was quite erratic and abnormal… But it was Trevor, so what else did you expect?

“I can’t massage any deeper when you are arched like a barrel.” You acknowledged, “Go in the bedroom and lie on your stomach. I’ll get some moisturiser for your skin as well.”

The affects of your touch made him shake and wobble. He flopped onto his small bed that was littered with cigarette buds, pornography magazines, used socks, and empty cans of alcohol. You followed his steps and made sure he was positioned currently.

Trevor grinned, resting his chin on a pillow as your hands centred him, “So are you a professional massager now?”

“I had my fair shares of muscle pains as well.”

“Oh yeah? What from?” He wondered.

Squirting moisturizer on your hands, you slowly pressed onto his skin and applied pressure. The sensation earned a rightful groan from the man underneath you. He nuzzled into the pillow and scrunched up his nose when you began tackling his knots. The dampness of the moisturizer made his back nice and smooth for you to process and massage.

“I can’t remember now.” You replied after a few minutes of silence.

Trevor felt your fingers prickle his shoulder blades and with one swift movement, he supressed into a pit of ecstasy. It felt like his muscles were being fondled as all the tension faded away. There wasn’t away to describe the climax he was feeling.

“Jesus Christ… What else can you do with em fingers, ay?” Speaking through troubled whines, his voice was muffled through the pillow.

You continued to rub in the moisture before working on his lower back. Your fingers gently grazed his skin. That’s when you noticed his skins conditions. Deeply examining the small scars and marks from whatever trouble he gets himself into, he left his back all rough and quite dark, especially since he lacks hygiene. When you pressed your palm against the small knots, his skin was hard and it made friction between you both.

“When was the last time you washed your back?”

Trevor’s shoulders tensed at the question.

“Don’t be lecturing me on showering. Not now, babe… I’m enjoying myself.”

You shook your head with a grin, “I’m just asking.”

In all respects, you were glad to hold a conversation with him, as mentioned before… He hasn’t exactly been in the right mood. Trevor, while sleeping most of time, had been neglectful of your affections and care. You knew he didn’t mean it, but you begin to wonder… Does he really deserve this massage?

“I can’t remember. I just let the water drip. I couldn’t give a shit.”

“Your back is really dense and dry,” You explained.

Trevor huffed in return. You felt the bed vibrate as he did.

“How’s your back feeling?” Deciding to change the subject, you leaned forward, pressing your full weight onto your hands which tipped the surface of his spine, cracking and tackling any remaining joints that caused him great pain.

He bit into his lip and enjoyed the physical contact, “Fuckin’ heaven.”

The compliment was just enough to make you proud. You reached the point where the massage was initially over. Trevor was slumped against the mattress with his ass perked up from the repeated pleasure of having his body massaged. His head was buried between the pillows.

“Okay, you are free now.” You alarmed.

He didn’t move.

“Trev, let’s go and fix the TV.” You tried.

Still no response.

“Trevor.”

His form jerked up and the lanky arms that belonged to his frame threw you onto the space beside him. The courage and force made you shriek as there was no way to predict his movements. Trevor was hovering over you with a cheesy smirk. His selfish hands rested just below your breasts while he adjusted himself to be sitting right on your crotch. The weight of his whole body made a great impact on your ability to push him away, failing every time.

He grinned, “I didn’t get to say my thank you.” His cheeks were warm and rosy. You could identify his mood from the way he was inclined in teasing you. Them cracked lips widened more as he felt you underneath his hips. He always turns into a big baby when horny.

“You could just say it.” You smiled.

His shoulders shrunk and his face moved closer to yours.

“But I don’t like saying thank you. I like showing you my appreciation.”

You sucked in your lips simultaneously while Trevor’s dirty nails browsed your skin from under your shirt. He fed every inch with his proximity.

“Besides, your hands…” He threw his head back with a loud laugh, “Your hands were beautiful. My God… The way you just roughly rubbed and kneaded me. I ain’t lettin’ you go any time soon, I wanna finish this with a bang.”

“I can’t care for you without turning you on, can’t I?” You riddled back.

Trevor’s eyebrows raised at the invitation for a good challenge. He smiled with his full sets of teeth.

“You can blame my mother for that, sugar.” His breath invading every ounce of your face as he spoke, “But let’s not… Go there.” His tone turning serious, “I wanna fuck you without thinking of my issues.”

“Always a way with words, aren’t you?” Your scoff made his eyes twitch.

“I have a better way with my lips, darlin’.”

The warning was subtle, but it wasn’t enough to prepare you. The seconds were increasingly fast before he dived into your neck and feasted upon the leftover skin like he hadn’t of touched you in decades. In the past week of his problematic grumpiness, you haven’t of fucked in a while. The night after his heist, he was bed struct and tired. He did grow horny but you suggested he rested… Causing an argument… And no sex.

“Trev…” You whispered.

The extra drool from his tongue dribbled down his neck and that was your breaking point. Normally you weren’t the first to break, but it seems as though this one drop of his saliva managed to prove you wrong.

The sudden burst of warmth in your stomach made you squirm which surprised Trevor as he found amusement in this reaction. In his eyes, you were fiddling with your shirt and sucking in your bright red cheeks. What made it obvious was the way you were cradling your legs together. You tried hard to apply pressure to your crotch before he forced your thighs apart. He made quick “tut tut tut” sounds from his tongue.

“Trevor-“ Your trousers were ripped down your thighs as he wasted no time. You grasped at his hair after noticing how hostile he was getting with your lap. There was no way to describe how rough he was getting… His fingers tangled with your pantie lines while his knee fully flunked forward, pressing against your groin, replacing the warmth you were trying to hide from him.

His tongue hung out of his wolfish mouth, a motion he does when he grows so uncontrollably aroused. Trevor’s eyes pierced your watery ones.

“You like that, huh?” His vocals enlarging with stimulation and odd submission. He was whingey, shouty, mouthy. There was no sight of dominance apart from his physical yearning for you. Even then, it was a sloppy gesture. Trevor wasn’t holding any commands over you, he was simply feeding his own passions by supressing your attempt at dominating the situation.

After all, he does love a bit of foreplay and power imbalance.

You just had to match this pining ache.

While the man handled your crotch with his clothed knee, you snatched his collar and forced him forward. Trevor gambled at this with a smirk. He resisted the clutch, instead, he kept on resisting. He watched you grow frustrated and cackled.

“What’s wrong?” He grinned.

You tried your best to pull him against the bed with you. His biceps bulged at the attempt to reject your forceful strength. Trying too hard and giving up, you were left panting.

Trevor tutted, “Oh no… Don’t run out of breath, I’m not done yet.”

“Come on! I gave you a massage, return my affections.” You pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

He smirked at your mocking looks, trying to find someway to tease you more. Trevor grinned as he began nibbling his bottom lip. He was obviously imagining some unholy things as for the way he’s looking at you with pure lust.

“That’s right, you did, didn’t you?” He cooed, “Why… How rude of me? I should be a great man and appreciate my lady…” His fingers bringing your panties down and around your thighs, “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby. I’m gonna make you feel amazing.”

Suddenly, he forced two fingers into your pussy and explored your wetness with a sneer. His teeth grinded with focus and the man fully pledged his efforts into fingering you. It made you whimper and gasp.

“Trevor…” You breathed.

“Don’t come just let.”

“Trevor, please.”

“Come on, baby.” He asked with glassy eyes, “You feel so good… God, I’m so fuckin’ horny.”

You gripped his wrist and stared at him, “Trevor, you better fuck me.”

He grinned.

“You are going to fuck me tonight.”

Trevor admired your demands as he gazed at you with adoration. The way your words spat out. He immediately caught your glare and felt his boner striked up a notch. Your anger made him so horny, it was sickening. He just wanted you to shout at him all the time, he fantasises about your fury almost daily.

So he carried on watching you with a pester.

“Trevor, don’t go silent on me.” You carried on while his fingers still dismounted in your clit. Something about the way you yell at him through your flustered state. It made him feel like a bad boy.

“I’m not going silent.” He smirked.

His fingers kept on pounding your pleasurable spot. Your throat grabbled out groans and he took his chances.

Trevor, without warning, threw off his pants and handled his erection roughly. The tip was shrieking for warmth and fluidity. You lied back knowing he was about to settle deep inside you.

“Don’t relax just yet, [y/n], I want your fire.” He remarked, “You had your time massaging and caring for me. Now I want you to screw me up, baby. I want to see blood.”

His penis replaced his fingers and you moaned when he approached your pussy, already bruising the walls with his devilish aggression.

Trevor likes how he can make you so angry that can watch you unleash stress while he’s fucking you senselessly. Always have, and always will. He’s a menace and he knows it. Sometimes he knows he doesn’t deserve your love, so the only exception for disrespect is in the bedroom. Trevor’s dirty mind finds pleasure when you treat him like a dirty dog, someone to tame, someone to slap around while his cock pathetically drools over your tits.

Mhm, that’s his rightful fantasy.

“No more nice guy, [y/n]. I deserve Hell. Give me Hell.”

You were struggling to form words as he thrusted harder every time.

“[y/n]-“ His voice wobbled.

Your fingers scorn his back when he leant forward to add more force. The moisture made him so soft and smooth… Your nails glided without making a mark. However, with the help of his violent hips, you yelped forward and roughened the once clean skin.

It was like your massage gave him the energy he lost for days and days.

“O-Ohhh…” Trevor wheezed at the scratches.

Your kitty claws nailed him harder as your hips were being torn apart by his combative drive. He was the Devil and you were trying to tear off his angel wings, proving his true colours… His true blood.

“Oh, fuck.” Mumbling against his forehead, Trevor fell into your arms like a little boy. He was puffing through the thrusts, completely sucked into your breasts that was visible from the sweaty shirt you wore, his nose snuggled in between, as if he deserved this company.

You hurled his head back, immodestly slapping his rosy cheeks in attempt of disciplining.

“Oh, mama-“ His tongue wretched and snivelled.

Being detached from your tits made Trevor go completely insane. He fastened his pace, staring at you with drool dripping from his mouth. His eyes asked for permission to return to your breasts, but he was greeted with a pleasurable glare. Biting his lip, he tried to argue back with broken moans.

You had to say no words for him to understand your authority and modesty over him. After all, you care for him like a kid, you massaged his back, cleaned his trailer, served him dinner… And you rarely get appreciation.

Trevor knows this and the thought gave him motivation to fuck you harder. His hands grasps at your waist with faint strength. He wiggled in and out of your soaked pussy as his breathing pitched. He needed to return your pleasure and acts of service or he fears you’ll never offer him your love again.

“Oh, yes…” You praised.

“Mhm, [y/n]-“

“Harder…”

“OH-“

“Oh my God!” Tears began forming in your eyes.

All the moisture from his back returned to your palms as blood circulated his shoulder blades. You felt your fingers be painted with red considering your nails only engraved him more at the power of his cock, that has been festering your clit for the time being, and reminding Trevor of his treachery and audacity.

“Ma- Mama… Oh… [y/n], I’m so close.”

You flared your nostrils as he twitched inside you.

“Ohhhhh… Please, please, please!” Trevor cried out, begging you.

You kept on guiding his hips back against yours, rejecting his attempts to come. The pain was surreal and he felt like exploding.

“This ain’t fai- Ohhhh, fuck me… Shit, shit!” His moans pouring out of the watery mouth.

With distinctive motions, you moved your hands from his back to his jaw. A finger pressed against his pulse unnaturally and you held onto his face as he approached his climax.

“I FUCKIN’ LOVE YOU-“

Trevor’s final thrust must have triggered a reaction…

While he pulled out to cum all over your shirt, it seems that he intoxicated his moment of ecstasy onto you. You shared the orgasm with him, crying out unknowledgeable English. The problematic man above you felt the sincerity behind your climax since your hand fully wept, almost gripping his skin with pain. His cheeks squished at your fingers before he objected the contact, forcing your hands above your head.

Recovering from your orgasm was fast until he nibbled at your neck.

Oh the tease…

“Trevor…”

He lips rumbled against your jaw, “Round 2?”

#trevor philips #grand theft auto 5 #grand theft 5 #grand theft auto #gta v #trevor philips/reader #gta 5 #trevor philips x reader #trevor gta

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valentinoappreciator · 5 months ago

Text

All jokes aside, I need Val to get addicted to me

I need it to be all fun and games for him at first. Sure, I'm a cute little sinner, and he's bored, so why not kill some time with me? He fucks me in every possible way, and just when he thinks he's run out of fun with me, just when he thinks he's getting bored of me, just when he's about to throw me away like the toy he sees me as, I flip the roles.

I take initiative. I push his buttons. I end up fucking him into the mattress one night.

He's still mainly the active one when we have fun, but things slowly, gradually change. With time, it turns out that I'm more dominant than him. We start fun-fighting for dominance when we have sex, and I can see how much it affects him; someone being able to hold him down and make him flustered? It's new and exciting for him! He doesn't let me fuck him, though; I have to earn it fair and square.

And, of course, with our cute, little fighting rituals, I get physically stronger, until he doesn't stand a chance against me. I hold him down, pinning him to the mattress and railing him until his own name is leaking out of his ears and my name is falling off his tongue like a prayer.

After that, the tables have completely turned. I'm in charge. I've effectively pushed his buttons so good and hard that I am all he can think about. Whenever he jerks off? I'm on his mind. Whenever he's fucking into someone else? He wishes it was me. Whenever someone else touches him? Repulsed.

I want him so addicted to me that he can't even get off without thinking of me, or getting viciously railed by me, or having my hands on him. I want him hating this little turn of events, but he can't stop or help it.

I want him furious that he's addicted to some random, little sinner.

More so, I want him backed up in the proverbial corner when he realizes that the reason he doesn't want to see me with other sinners is something far deeper, something far more sinister, something far more pathetic than he has ever experienced before:

He has feelings for me.

I am more than just a fuck toy at this point. I have more value than some random whore. I'm on his mind constantly, after all!

And, of course, once he realizes this, he flies off the handle and into a blinding rage, in which he nearly kills me. He certainly threatens to do so, but even when two hands are wrapped around my throat and two are pressing a knife to my stomach, I know I have won. I know exactly where I have him. Wrapped around my finger, I look up at him, grinning and crooning, "And where would that leave you, Val? Killing me? You'd be alone again. Alone, with only your thoughts and fantasies keeping you company. Would you really rather be alone and miserable without me, than happy and thoroughly-fucked with me?"

And he crumbles, knees hitting the ground, knife ending up next to him as he buries his face in his hands, screaming in frustration because the only thing he knows at this point is how good I make him feel.

There is no him without me, and no me without him.

#text #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #my post #long post #sorta???#i have not thought about this way too much at all i swear #god i want him to feel so fucking complicateddddddd #like he loves me but he hates me for it but hes addicted to me but he doesnt want to quit me because i make him feel better #than he thought was possible #anyway. i think i need to touch grass about this lmao

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im-not-thinking-confetti-cannons · 1 year ago

Text

Day 24: Frottage

Warnings: none

Rating: E

Pairing: Boyd x Tim

Boyd looks up from his spot on the couch when Tim is halfway out the door, his bag slung over his shoulder and his hand on the doorknob. But it’s not any of that that catches his attention. He’s much more interested in what Tim’s decided to wear: a deep purple v-neck and dark jeans that are so fitted they might as well be painted on. It’s not his usual heading-to-work outfit. It’s eye-catching. Interesting.

“Well, don’t you look pretty today?”

Tim freezes at the sound of Boyd’s voice, and that is even more interesting. Compliments usually earn Boyd a lecherous grin, if they get a response at all. Tim’s just as likely to shrug them off and ignore them. Boyd has run the gamut, from telling Tim he’s a good shot to complimenting his hair – but it’s pretty that makes Tim falter.

Boyd rises, making his way over to where Tim is waiting, his hand still on the doorknob. He has his head down, but the back of his neck is flushed red, and his grip on the doorknob is nearly white-knuckled. He’s affected. Boyd smiles.

“Raylan forgot to do the laundry,” Tim says, voice low. “This is all I had left.”

“Remind me to thank him.”

Tim laughs under his breath, finally loosening his grip on the door. “You’re going to make me late,” he accuses as he turns, but he doesn’t sound too put-out by the idea – so Boyd doesn’t feel bad about pushing him up against the door and crowding into his space. Tim sucks in a breath, something sharp and telling, but he allows it to happen, tilting his head up to meet Boyd’s gaze with a smirk slanting across his mouth. “Really late, apparently.”

“Well, Tim, somehow I think you’ll find it in you to forgive me,” Boyd says. His hands come up to rest on Tim’s hips, thumbs brushing gently over the protrusions of his hips bones, visible even under the denim. “Spread your legs, sweetheart.”

Tim’s pupils blow wide as his lips part, a shaky little sigh escaping from between them. “Boyd,” he breathes, though there’s not an ounce of protest in his voice. It’s all heat, all wanting. Tim’s easy for this, for gentle orders, commands meant to give him what he needs, and Boyd? Boyd is more than happy to give it to him.

Tim spreads his knees, and, after a moment, he slowly raises his arms, crossing his wrists above his head. His gaze goes heavy, anticipating – like he’s waiting for Boyd to sink to his knees and get him off fast and rough. And, any other time, he might be correct. The way Tim falls apart when Boyd’s got him in his mouth is beautiful, but that’s not what he’s after. Not right now.

Boyd presses one thigh between Tim’s spread legs, feeling the way Tim’s hips hitch at the pressure. It’s so tempting to do the work himself, to reach down between them and bring Tim off himself, to watch as Tim unravels there, pinned between him and the door – but again, Boyd’s after something else. Something specific.

“Go on,” he says, and Tim huffs a breath of laughter, squirming a little as he settles against the door properly.

“You’re really not gonna touch me?”

Boyd hums, leaning in a little closer. He braces himself against the door with his elbows, dipping down just close enough to kiss Tim’s mouth with his words. “I was thinking I’d watch you instead,” he says, and Tim jolts, sucking in a startled little breath. “Now, you might want to consider getting started, if you intend on showing up to work at a reasonable hour.”

Tim opens his mouth – likely to argue, to entice, because Boyd may have the silver tongue on the relationship but Tim has the filthy mouth. So Boyd heads him off, pushes two fingers into his mouth as soon as Tim gives him room, cutting off any smart replies he might have.

“Go on,” he repeats, and Tim shudders, his eyelashes fluttering as his tongue curls between Boyd’s fingers. His hips jerk forward too, awkward enough that Boyd knows the motion isn’t intentional – but Tim still moans, the sound muffled by Boyd’s fingers.

It doesn’t take Tim long to find a rhythm, the exact way to roll his hips against Boyd’s thigh to get the pressure and friction he wants. It can’t be comfortable – those jeans are tight – but he doesn’t show any signs of discomfort. If anything, judging by the way he’s sucking almost desperately on Boyd’s fingers, it feels a little too good. And fuck, if he isn’t pretty like this too, his eyes gone hazy as he does his best to put on a show.

“That’s it.” Boyd’s own voice has gone low and rough, and Tim whines in response, grinding down hard against Boyd’s thigh. Boyd smiles, hitching his leg up a little higher. “There you go, baby. That’s my girl.”

Tim whimpers, his breath hitching raggedly in his chest as the flush on his neck crawls up to stain his cheeks. The motions of his hips are getting a little more uncoordinated, a little more desperate, and Boyd can't tear his gaze away.

Tim rocks up onto his toes, trying to thrust against Boyd’s thigh, and Boyd can feel how hard he is. He knows that, if he reached down and unzipped Tim’s pants, he’d find him aching there, practically dripping with precome. He’s close. He's really close.

"Well, aren't you pretty to look at?" Boyd murmurs, and Tim's whole body tenses, muffled little moans falling from his mouth as his cock pulses in his jeans, hard enough that Boyd can feel it. His hips jerk once, twice more, and then he goes all but limp, slumping against the wall with only Boyd’s leg between his keeping him upright.

Boyd's careful when he moves, slowly slipping his fingers out of Tim's mouth and moving his thigh back. Tim still makes a quiet little noise of discontent, but Boyd leans down and kisses it from his lips, swallowing down the pleased hum Tim makes, too.

Tim's eyes are still dark when he leans back, but they're not hazy anymore, and he doesn't hesitate when he lets his arms fall to his sides. He grins up at Boyd. "V-necks do it for you, huh?"

"Well, Tim, I believe a more accurate statement would be that you do it for me." Boyd looks him up and down. "Though I will admit, this wrapping is good on you."

Tim's head thunks back against the door. "And now no one else will get to see it," he accuses, but he's too loose and satisfied for it to come out as anything more than playful, teasing. "Fuck, Boyd, all I've got left are khakis."

"Better than nothing, I suppose."

"Fuck you."

find this fic on AO3 here:

#justified #kinktober 2023 #tim gutterson #boyd crowder #i know tim is babyboy but boyd saying babygirl is too good to pass up

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stars-couragetobefree · 3 years ago

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Hello-hello, how are you?

Can I get a reader x Hero and Kel (separately) hcs, with a Gn!reader who can act a little mean, but It's only because of their trust/commitments issues? (They are not in a relationship yet) For example: The reader will jokingly tease them, bump them around. But in reality, the reader is scared of opening up and being used, and are actually very soft (which is displayed with those who are not their crush).

If there is anything wrong, feel free to ignore^^" And thank you in advance!

My first Hero and Kel request! This is quite the list, at this point I'll have the whole gang. I'm not against this, this is like a milestone. Thank you for the request!

I tried my best to write according to your request, Anon, I hope it suits your liking? Everything was quite specific which I did enjoy. I hope you also enjoy!

Mean reader with Hero and Kel:

✦Hero✦

Poor guy's a little confused with you..

It's not like it bothers him, but it's just a bit strange how it seems like you still don't trust him.

He's determined though, to break down those walls. No matter what it takes.

When Hero uses his charm, he may see you crumble a little, but bring your guard right back up. So that doesn't work too well.

The others tell him to just be himself.

Problem is, he's not sure what being himself is?

But, he guesses not being such a doormat counts. You soften up quite a bit when it's all of you hanging out casually.

When that happens, he makes sure to show you how much he's happy to see your softer parts. That he accepts you.

Hero knows you probably have trust issues, and he really wants to show you that he won't hurt you.

He sees your true self when you're with the others, and he's determined to get there with you.

It'll take a little time, but with enough patience and affection, maybe he can earn your trust?

…and maybe get rid of his little crush in the process? (He'll deal with that later.)

★Kel★

Kel likes a challenge!!

He's absolutely oblivious to the crush though, so jot that down.

Besides that, when he noticed you acted differently with him, he was down to get you to shake.

At first, he actually thought you were quite a jerk.

But then he saw how you acted with other people. Kind. Soft. Sweet. It made him realize maybe there was more to you.

That flipped a switch in his brain, instead of a jerk, he saw you as a challenge! Someone he had to earn the trust of!

He liked seeing you happy like that, so now he was hell-bent on being able to make you smile the same.

He counters your teasing, not as bad as Aubrey, but he matches your energy.

He does think it's kind of weird how you seem to be… meaner? Towards him compared to the others.

But Kel takes it as a mission, to get you to trust him and like him!

Because even though he surely doesn't realize it in that meatball brain of his, he might like you too. A lot.

It might just take you softening up to him for him to realize.

#star requests #star headcanons #omori #hero x reader #reader x hero #kel x reader #reader x kel #it was quite nice to write for these two!#because when it comes to romance... i see hero trying his best to be charming #but when it doenst work (like how it is with Mari) he gets a little lost #and Kel is just... oblivious.. as to most things #he means well though. And when he gets there he gets there.#and he is quite genuine.

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4dtk · 3 years ago

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hiii can i pls request for jaehyun based on the song he recommended last year Don't Tempt Me by MiC Lowry with the ff prompts: touching 3, touching 44 and kisses 13? :) established relationship + date nights + drinking sounds so perfect for jaehyun 🖤 thank you!!!

thank u for waiting anon rip 😭 hope u enjoy!!

kisses, 13: frustrated kisses

touching, 3 & 44: hiding face in neck, sitting on the other’s lap

jaehyun’s wandering hands distract you from the conversation with your friends, but you’ve known them so long that they know what he’s like. from wedding dinners to hangouts, he manages to get you onto his lap one way or another, under the influence of alcohol that turns his ears red. you like it, a lot, even more when he’s trying desperately to place kisses on your neck.

“i’m- i’m sorry guys,” you chuckle, and the resigned tone of your voice only earns laughter around the table. some are more intoxicated than your lover, others less, but they start to see how possessive jaehyun starts to get with his arms around your waist and the shameless whines he delivers into your skin.

they shoot you sympathetic smiles which you don’t exactly understand, because all you do after you send them off at the door is go right back to jaehyun’s lap. the party lights that shine across the room becomes kind of blinding and disorienting, but your boyfriend’s arms around you distract you enough for you to be able to focus on the screen of his phone.

he’s chosen the song he recommended in an interview the other day, and the familiar melody floods your ears quicker than the whiskey to your system. the arms around you tighten more and more until you’re full on leaning back on him, legs carefully balancing yours like he would do to a little kid.

“your friends were being a little intrusive, don’t ya think?” you know anything that comes out of drunk jaehyun didn’t mean much, ears red and words slurred beyond the point of coherence.

“nah, i just think you’re being extra possessive tonight, love.” you can feel jaehyun frowning into your neck and he agrees without missing a beat, saying something about just wanting you for yourself or a word that always sends chills up your spine.

“mine. you’re mine, you know that, right?” jaehyun mumbles, turning you around to meet him halfway on his lap. jaehyun bounces you like a baby playfully to the beat, and when you don’t answer, he just pouts, unconsciously swaying to the beat of the song that decorates the room. “are you not gonna answer that?”

the other doesn’t give you any chance to answer, leaning right forward for his lips to collide with yours. you can feel his jealously through the kiss, at having to accept another friend invite to what was supposed to be an initial date night. he’s reluctantly given in with a grunt, but now that they’re gone, jaehyun can show how frustrated he really was. jerking the chair forward, he presses you against the edge of the table, leaving you no place to go as he slips his tongue in.

bit by bit he gains back his sobriety, intoxicated mind coming back clearer and better when he tastes Laphroaig on your lips. mainly, because he hates whiskey, but more so that he can finally has your lips after suffering through four hours of board games and inside jokes. it was torturous. jaehyun’s brows furrow more when you pull away, and you look stunning, seemingly enhanced by the guitar of the tune.

your lips are swollen, red not just from party lights that dance across your face. “what’s gotten into you?”

jaehyun knows you’re only poking fun at him, but he feels suddenly embarrassed by the onslaught of affection that he goes straight for cover, hiding in the safety of your neck until he feels the familiarity of your laugh and the warmness of your kisses. he guessed a reschedule of your date night was fine after all.

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gingersnaaps · 4 years ago

Text

too much of a good thing

he's so sweet, so kind, so dumb - is bokuto really capable of anything besides the best intentions?

wc: ~2.7k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): explicit n*fw, dubcon sex to noncon creampie, manipulation, lovebombing and then neglect, overstimulation, cunnilingus, fingering, penetration, a lil angst, timeskip!bokuto, fem!reader with inner genitals

i don’t want minors interacting with my content

Being subtle was never really Bokuto’s thing, not even in the beginning.

In some ways, you suppose that you’re lucky - that you’re better off than your friends who you would always hear complaining, muttering about boys who didn't like to commit, didn’t like labels, who didn’t like texting first or buying gifts or putting in any effort at all.

Barely a week into your relationship, you come home from work with your head dizzy and feet aching from exhaustion, and discover a dozen bouquets of roses on your doorstep. Crimson petals are littered everywhere, strewn against the grey concrete of the steps, and although you feel your neck and face heating up with embarrassment at the grand gesture, you can’t suppress the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips.

He really was so sweet. Who cares if he wasn’t exactly shy about expressing it?

None of the other guys you’ve dated before had sent you good morning texts quite like his, filled with exclamation points and emojis, and none of them had tried nearly as hard as Bokuto does with his breathy, eager i love you’s, his frequent hugs whenever he gets the chance to see you, or even his phone calls that come twice, three times, even four times in the middle of the day.

But the more days that pass by, the more intense it gets.

He picks you up after work all the time, cupping your face in his hands, eyes gleaming almost unnaturally bright. “I love you,” he’ll whisper. “You’re so wonderful, baby. You’re perfect. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.”

You can’t help but think that these are the sort of words that come months into a relationship, if not years, but… there’s nothing really wrong with what he’s doing, is there? There’s no reason you should be uneasy, no indication of even the slightest hint of trouble on his part.

You’re probably just paranoid.

Bokuto doesn’t stop at words, though - he earns a good sum of money from his job playing professional volleyball, and he’s never hesitant to use it on you. A week after he leaves you the roses, he asks you out on a date to a restaurant you know is ridiculously expensive, and the uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach grows as you scroll through pictures of the establishment on Google Images.

“I don’t think I can afford it, Bo,” you tell him, voice hesitant and crackly over the phone. “If we go, I won’t be able to pay my share.”

“So?”

It’s just a word, but the implication isn’t lost on you. And if he’s fine with paying for you, if he’s okay with the hundreds of dollars you’ll be owing him, well - there’s no good reason to turn him down, right?

During the date, you talk with him as you spoon bites of delicate food into your mouth. The restaurant is too lavish, the plush velvet carpeting and crystal chandeliers almost a parody of luxury. You’re pretty sure the utensils are half the price of your rent.

He leans over in the middle of the meal, expression suddenly serious. “You’re enjoying this, right?” he asks.

“I am. I’m kinda lucky, aren’t I? Being spoiled like this.”

“Yeah,” he replies, his grin so bright it could rival the sun. “You really are.”

And suddenly - just for a moment - you catch a glimpse of something slightly off about his whole expression, as if it was a mask waiting to be ripped off to reveal something much, much different underneath, but the fleeting moment is gone so quickly you convince yourself that it’s just your eyes playing tricks on you.

Bokuto has been nothing if not perfect, after all. If you’re uneasy, it’s probably just because you aren’t used to being treated like this, aren’t used to someone that lavishes you with constant gifts and praise and displays of affection like he does. On the way back in the taxi, he whispers everything he loves about you softly in your ear, his arm snaking around your waist as his thumb rubs tender circles into your skin. His body is pressed so close to yours, his breath gently tickling your ear, warmth radiating out from his firm, muscled body.

He’s so good to you.

It doesn’t last forever.

Bokuto’s affection dries up slowly, but his presence has been such a constant in your life that it’s impossible for you not to notice.

Some mornings, you find yourself waking up to a hollow feeling in your chest as you check your message notifications and find nothing - no late night rants, no funny pictures, no enthusiastic, joyful good morning texts. During the day, the silence now stretches on for hours too long, uncomfortably empty and devoid of the persistent calls that you used to get every single hour.

When he does see you, he’s remarkably reserved - eyes always downcast, fingers fidgeting incessantly, clearly disinterested in what you’re doing, what you’re saying - in fact, disinterested in all of you.

Maybe he’s just busy with volleyball, you rationalize, but your stomach churns with anxiety and deep down, you know that something’s changed.

You try and ignore the dull ache inside of you that seems to follow you around wherever you go, a little voice inside your head constantly reminding you of what Bokuto used to do. Two months ago, he would’ve picked you up. He would’ve sent you flowers today. He would’ve taken you out to eat.

It builds up slowly and steadily, a crescendo of pain that grows in volume the longer he’s gone, like a tidal wave of confusion and hurt that swirls around inside you - until one day, you’re sitting by yourself in the car, sobbing quietly in the cramped darkness.

At least he doesn’t turn you away when you show up on his doorstep.

Your eyes are rimmed with red, streaks of eye makeup running down your face as a frown twists at his features. “Please, Bo,” you whisper. “Let me make it up to you.”

And you’re not exactly sure what you did, but you want to fix it, want him back in your life, want to wake up to his smiles and his laughter and his incessant, boundless energy, and you know you’re willing to do anything to get that back.

“Really?” he asks, eyes glimmering faintly with hope.

You nod almost imperceptibly, about to reply yes, yes, want you back so bad, when he grabs your waist with his hands and pulls you in for a kiss so passionate it borders on harsh. It’s a whirlwind of teeth and tongue, a mix of sucking and licking and biting that leaves you gasping for breath, your red lips swollen and slick with spit.

He pulls you inside, his hands roaming all over your body, groping and squeezing at your supple flesh, goosebumps running down your spine as he brings a hand up to brush against your nipple. For the first time in weeks, you see excitement on his face, and his voice trembles as he leans close in. “Let me take care of you,” he says. “Wanna make you feel good.”

And even though there’s apprehension crawling under your skin at his sudden mood swing, you’re so, so glad this version of Bokuto is back that you brush off that hesitation, the mixture of happiness and anticipation overwhelming every single thought in your mind.

As his fingertips graze the soft skin of your torso, his hands - so much larger than yours - maneuver your body around with such ease and grace that you barely notice when you end up on his couch, legs spread wide open as he looks up from between your thighs hungrily. “I - fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he says, out of breath, eyes running over the swollen outline of your cunt.

You whimper softly as his nose brushes up against your clit, his piercing, golden eyes still gazing intently up at you.

He doesn’t waste any of his time teasing you, his flat of his tongue sliding up along your slit with the perfect amount of pressure to leave you squirming. It’s almost as if he knows exactly where to lick and suck, eagerly pressing his tongue up against your clit in insistent circles, lapping at your dripping pussy until your juices are running down his chin. He’s so eager in between your legs, and everytime he finds a spot that makes your legs tremble needily, he gives it so much attention that you already start to feel that wave of pleasure building in your core.

“Don’t stop,” you pant, your hands sliding into his hair as your hips thrust upwards. “Please.”

Bokuto doesn’t need you to tell him that. Shouldn’t have wasted your breath, he thinks idly, diving in and eating you out with renewed vigor.

When his tongue glides around your spasming cunt and dips in briefly, you can’t stop the moan that tumbles from your lips. His tongue is so stupidly long and flexible, sliding inside and licking at your sensitive walls, curling up and brushing against your g-spot until you start to shudder and tremble under him.

You cum embarrassingly quick, your hips jerking and stuttering wildly as he finishes you off. He fucks you through your orgasm, sucking gently at your clit until the border between pain and pleasure starts to blur and you’re moaning so loudly he thinks the neighbors will have complaints for him the next morning.

“Feel good, baby?” he asks, voice sending vibrations through your pussy.

“Yeah,” you mumble.

“How about another?”

Your eyes widen. “W-what?”

“I think you can handle it, right?” a huge grin splits his face as he spreads your pussy apart with two fingers, looking at your swollen, spent cunt. He barely gives your chance to respond before he trails his fingers against your lips, fingers teasing in and out of your slick entrance.

This time, Bokuto uses his hands to stretch you out, inserting his digits one by one until three of his thick, long fingers are nestled inside of your pussy. He thrusts them languidly in and out, his fingertips caressing your nerves until you’re tense and wound up for him again.

“Come on,” he encourages. “You can take it.”

Your brain is hazy from the stimulation, barely registering anything but pleasure as his fingers search and probe like they have some sort of job to do. You feel damp with heat and moisture, the pulsing, burning need in between your legs insistent and demanding.

“Almost there,” he breathes, voice raspy with arousal. A fourth finger brushes up against your lips, and the thought of more stretch, more stimulation, more pleasure, has you clenching desperately against the ones that your cunt is already spread out on.

You sob, your body strung out and wrecked, suspended on the tipping point of another orgasm.

As you cum again, the feeling of relief - white-hot and blinding - rips along your core. You’re not sure you’ve experienced anything quite so intense before, and as you look down at him, hands still manipulating your cunt so expertly, you don’t know if he has the intention of stopping anytime soon.

He stands up and your eyes drift to his cock, flushed purple and almost painfully hard, dripping with precum. His hand strokes along his shaft, soft curses muttered under his breath, but he opens them wide again and looks down at you sadly. “I’m so sorry,” he says, voice pleading. “I don’t have any condoms.”

Bokuto sounds so genuine, his tone kind and filled with regret, and guilt begins to sting at your conscience. He’s made you feel so fucking good, given you the best orgasms of your life - is it really fair if you leave him wanting and unsatisfied?

You’re fucked halfway out of your mind when you answer, eyes still fixated on his cock, head swimming with thoughts of how much you want to please him.

“It’s fine,” you say, your words slurred and hesitant. “You can.. you can use me. Use my pussy to get you off. Jus’ pull out at the end.”

Ecstasy flashes across his face, and he looks down eagerly. “Fuck, babe. You’re so perfect. I love you.”

You hadn’t heard those words for weeks.

His strong arms pick you up easily, maneuvering you around until he’s the one sitting on the couch and your cunt is positioned right over his dick. His hands grip tightly at your waist, fingertips pressing so insistently that you’re sure you’ll wake up the next morning with bruises dotting your skin. He lowers you down slowly, carefully, groaning as he fills you up and the warmth of your cunt envelopes him whole.

He already looked big, just from the cursory glance you’d taken earlier, but as you feel the tip of his cock shove against your cervix, your breath almost catches at how you feel your walls expanding to accommodate all of him.

The drag of his curved cock up against your sensitive walls leaves your legs trembling and squirming, but he holds you firmly down as he thrusts up inside over and over. “Stay still,” he coos. “Let me take care of you.”

Bokuto starts off gently, fucking you with shallow little thrusts that have you panting with desperation. He can tell by the way your cunt is fluttering that you're craving more, that the two orgasms he gave you earlier just wasn’t enough for a greedy girl like you, and he relishes the way your small hands grip desperately at his shirt.

He raises you up off his cock, running the tip up and down your slit until your pussy throbs, and slams you back down again. The rhythm he maintains is steady and even, bouncing you up and down on his cock like a ragdoll, whispering stuttered curses and phrases of endearment against your ear, making you shiver from the overload of stimuli.

“Feels so amazing,” he moans. “Gonna.. Gonna cum soon.”

The heat in your core grows intense at the thought of his orgasm, involuntarily whining, and you start to rock your hips back and forth in an attempt to search out more friction.

Bokuto knows he promised to pull out. He knows that it wouldn’t be right if he stayed buried inside your cunt. But how is he supposed to stop himself when you feel this good, wrapped so obediently around him like a perfect little fuck doll? And the heat of your cunt is gripping incredibly tight all around his length, your little squirms and shivers so adorable as he uses you to get himself off.

He can’t help himself.

With one last, desperate thrust, he lets go, thick spurts of cum filling you up until he’s sure your insides are dripping white, and he caresses your stomach where your womb would be in satisfaction. It feels so good to cum inside of a tight cunt, much better than it would’ve if he’d forced himself to pull out, he thinks. And you look so pretty all full and leaking with his seed.

It takes you a moment to fully register the warm, wet feeling pooling inside you, your brain too fucked out, too stupid from the constant stimulation to truly understand what exactly dripping from your slit is.

When you do realize - oh god, he came inside me - panic starts to grip at the edges of your frayed nerves, your vision tunneling as the magnitude of what had just happened hits you. Tears start to blur the world around you, the dim lighting of his living room merging the furniture and warping the walls, and you faintly register the feeling of arms wrapped tight around you, a hand reaching up to caress soothingly at your cheek.

“You know,” Bokuto whispers, face lit up in wonder. “I think we’re soulmates.”

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genshin-impacted · 4 years ago

Text

deserved // Zhongli x Reader (NSFW)

Word Count: ~2k

Notes: female reader, Zhongli/Reader, established relationship, just two people who love each other exploring what the other enjoys, NSFW (see below)

nsfw mentions: spanking/humiliation, brat!reader, dom!zhongli, dom/sub dynamics, implied afab, penetration, kink exploration!!

Summary: "There are certainly many things I am not knowledgeable on, and this is one of them." Zhongli says (modestly, in your opinion), "But human pleasure and pain have... always been complexly intertwined, and if this is something that will provide you that joy, then I would like to try-- for you."

So you want him to wield a harder hand-- he can do that.

"You would like me to... hit you?" Zhongli asks hesitantly, his furrowed brows and hesitance a clear sign of his confusion.

"Well, yes, but in a very specific way," you explain very clinically. He has always liked that about you, being able to keep a level head and being upfront about topics of importance or about things that would have normally been embarrassing for other people. It makes your points clear, which is ever so helpful with the many human things he has yet to comprehend. "Spanking over the knee as punishment, more specifically."

"Punishment?" Zhongli echoes. He is familiar with the term but he would have never associated its need when it comes to you. "Why would I punish you?"

At this, you give him a playfully withering look. "Zhongli, you can't possibly say I don't mess up sometimes and show up late or forget to do something." You tease, "There's plenty to punish me for."

"But... I do not wish to punish you for those," Zhongli protests, and you feel yourself soften when he holds onto your hand, insistent. "Bound to contracts as I am, I would never cause harm upon you, regardless of mistakes such as those."

"I know," you say softly. "Sorry, I guess that wasn't very clear. But I meant... you would 'punish' me for... 'misbehaving.'" At his increasingly concerned look, you laugh. "I think it makes sense if you view it in a more sexual way, babe." (Zhongli feels himself flush at the way one of the pet names you have given to him rolls off your tongue so naturally.)

"You're not really mad at me," you continue, "but you can act like you are mildly displeased in order to punish me for something I did- or I guess, in this case, for what I didn't do. Like, listen to you, or something."

"I see." Zhongli pauses thoughtfully. "And this would be enjoyable to you? I will not be causing you harm by doing this?"

"Well, if it did, I agreed to try it, and I could always let you know to stop," you say, reminding him. "Our safe word and all." You crack a smile. "And I think the physical harm is part of the pleasure. As well as the emotional. But since I know you aren't really hitting me because you, I don't know, hate me or something, it should be fine."

"I don't hate you," Zhongli replies immediately. "I love you."

You feel your heart clench at the easy admission of his feelings for you and squeeze his hands. "I know. I love you too." You clear your throat. "Which is exactly why I trust you to do this with me and be able to enjoy it."

"We can always try again if it doesn't work out," you say. "But are you okay with doing this?"

"There are certainly many things I am not knowledgeable on, and this is one of them." Zhongli says (modestly, in your opinion), "But human pleasure and pain have... always been complexly intertwined, and if this is something that will provide you that joy, then I would like to try-- for you." You beam at his response and Zhongli feels comforted by the fact that you have always been patient and have proven to be so even now.

"We'll work it out," you tell him. "But you have verbal consent to do it whenever you think is appropriate... though I think I can probably act in a way that'll make it easy for you."

Zhongli blinks. "What do you mean, my dear?"

Your eyes twinkle.

You are a playful person at heart, and Zhongli thinks that has been one of the (many) reasons why he is in love with you the way he is. You bring levity into his life, a sense of appreciation for the world around you that is simple in its beauty, finding joy wherever it can be found. He is not surprised to find himself faced with a very similar attitude in the bedroom where you tease and coax, making him feel the need to hold you down and claim you as his (much to your delight).

("You are a minx," he mutters into the crook of your neck that he had, not a moment ago, ravaged with lovebites. You only laugh, hugging his head and pulling him closer, the marks on your body the spoils of victory.)

Zhongli understands now what you meant how it would be a natural progression to introduce your latest kink when you decide to rock yourself onto him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes. Pay attention to me, your hands say, trailing over his shoulders seductively. Notice me.

The book in his hand will always pale in comparison when it comes to you; you need not have tried to demand his attention at all when you could simply ask for it. But as a result, he had requested a few minutes to read, to which you would have normally acquiesced to quite easily. But today, he finds that you are impatient, almost impudent in the way you demand his attention.

A brat.

His heart beats steadily faster than usual (but it always is when it comes to you) when he says your name firmly, a hard tone in his voice that has not been there before. You notice immediately. Zhongli almost wants to look at your reaction if the way you freeze is any indication of how his tone affected you.

So you want him to wield a harder hand-- he can do that.

"Will you not listen to me?" He asks, hand curling around the small of your back. His hands have always been much bigger than yours, but at the moment it seems ever more expansive with the way he commands the room. "Do you need my attention that badly?"

Your retort is quick and sharp in a futile attempt to gain the upper hand, despite the way your cheeks redden. "No," you say immediately, eyes trailing down his unbuttoned shirt collar. "I was... just bored is all."

You gasp when he grabs hold of your wandering hands, his eyes flashing dangerously when he speaks. "How unfortunate. For you to disturb my peace and to lie to me..." Zhongli says calmly, "I believe we need a reminder for you on how to behave properly."

"Get on my lap, since you want to be on it so much, and I'll make sure you remember clearly." You open your mouth to protest and he shoots you a sharp look. "I will not say it a second time."

You glare at him, but that is all you do in protest. Quietly, you swing your leg off of him and delicately place yourself onto his lap, your head hanging down from one end and your legs on the other. Zhongli watches, mesmerized, as you 'reluctantly' submit to his words and display yourself for him with pressed lips, a heated face, and a subtly hidden look of anticipation.

Zhongli takes your consent in mind and does not ask before he sweeps your skirt up to your hip, making you jerk in surprise. He temporarily admires the round of your ass, the fullness of your cheeks, and thinks for the first time that he may enjoy watching how it bounces from the impact of his hand. His rubbing on the curve of your right buttock is the only warning you get before he raises his hand and spanks your ass.

The involuntary sound you make from impact is obscene.

Judging from the way you clamp your mouth with both hands, Zhongli thinks you hadn't anticipated doing such a thing either, and if anything, that makes it all the more attractive for him to have heard it. He looks back at your ass and decides you can take another hit if not a few more. (For both yours and his sake, it is a good thing indeed.)

Zhongli hits the same spot for good measure, and you gasp, back curling slightly as a response. He smacks your other side soundly, earning him another sound; grabbing your ass into his hands before spanking it again consecutively makes you cry out again in a way that makes it evident that it's from pleasure rather than pain.

It goes straight into his cock, and Zhongli has to resist the thought of it hardening for now.

You are covering your mouth from embarrassment, however, and that won't do.

"Put your hands by your sides," Zhongli commands, making you freeze. "This is your punishment; I intend to hear every sound that comes from your mouth."

You place your hands to the side, your fingers digging into his leg to resist the urge to move it back. "Z-Zhongli," you stammer out, wiggling your lower half.

Zhongli takes a gander and slips his hand into your panties and comes out with his fingers wet.

"You're dripping," Zhongli says bluntly. He glances at you as you reflexively hide your face in embarrassment, only to quickly place it down in memory of his command. "How long have you been aroused, dearest? How long did you go wanting me until it was too much to bear?"

You whimper in response, your ass wriggling in his firm hold. "Hold still," he tells you, and when you plant your feet firmly onto the ground stubbornly, he slaps your ass again. A few times, for good measure-- a symphony of gasps falling from your lips, and you stop moving immediately.

The power over you, and the enjoyment you take from being controlled, is intoxicating.

"Good girl," he says instead, trailing a hand down your thigh in praise. Your hand grip into his leg in response, ass rising ever so slightly as though to urge him to continue-- though it has long stopped being a 'punishment' for you anyways.

Zhongli takes care to spank mainly on the convex of your ass, lovingly swatting below and upon your thigh to shock a lovely gasp from your lips. He watches as you rub your legs together in an attempt to abate the sting of the spank and relieve the tension below. When you become muted, he takes a peek at your expression and feels his breath leave him at how your lips are slightly parted, panting, and your eyes glazed over with pleasure.

Utterly submissive, he thinks, watching as you choke out another sound in between a gasp and whine. You may be enjoying yourself thoroughly, but he thinks he enjoys this kink of yours (and his, too now) if you end up looking irresistible like this, in a different way from the way you can dominate him, fucked out and completely pliant for him.

"Did you learn your lesson at all, I wonder," he says, gently tracing his fingers on your tender cheeks. When you nod your head furiously at his question, sniffling, he smiles, rubbing soothing circles onto your back. "You were very good for me, darling, taking all that for me.” He allows you to maneuver yourself until you are delicately straddling him again. He kisses at the plump of your cheeks, holding out his hand so you may sit comfortably on him without rubbing yourself raw with your already sensitive skin. In response, you melt into him, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you wrap your arms around him, and his heart feels full to bursting with affection for you and the vulnerability you have allowed him to see.

"I'll take care of you, my love," he says. "I have a soothing balm that will surely be of great use; I'll pull up a bath for you and make you comfortable."

Zhongli is surprised when you pull yourself away from him to see your pout, adorably petulant, your hand roaming down to where his cock has been hard for the past session.

"My darling is greedy today, aren't you?" He teases and chuckles when you make a disgruntled noise even as you unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants. "No? You aren't greedy?" He helps you pull his pants down as he lifts himself up, grinding himself onto you. "You can be if you so wish," he says, as you look at him pleadingly.

He could have demanded you to speak to him and tell you what you wanted, but he decides against it. He aids you when you line yourself up for him and carries you down gently when you sink yourself onto him. The look on your face is pure bliss, and you have never looked more like a temptation.

Zhongli bites onto your exposed collarbone and lets you ride out your high for as long as you desire. It is, after all, what you deserve.

#zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #female reader #oh to have an adult conversation about consensual sex

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blahkugo · 4 years ago

Text

𝟏 ༒ 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔫𝔬 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔤𝔬𝔡𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔢

⤷ dirty valentine m.list

⤷ complete bnha m.list

katsuki bakugo — worship kink

wc: 1.9k

cw: oral (cunni), seems like dubcon at first but it’s not at all, this is pretty tame for me tbh ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

“Try me.”

They had been fighting words, spoken to provoke a reaction and nothing else. Katsuki was so sure of his strength, so utterly convinced that your quirk would have no effect on him. It didn’t matter that he’d seen it in action, watched as mountainous men and women were reduced to rubbles of their former selves. The Number Two Hero was tougher than a rookie’s feminine wiles, had to be.

And he was—at first.

The practice match had gone on like countless others, Katsuki deflecting every kick or stab thrown his way, shooting off small explosions that only roughly missed their mark. He’d been taking it easy on you, dragging on the fight until your inevitable forfeit. He’s unsure why he even bothers asking you to partake in these private spars when you never bother with your quirk; Katsuki always wins.

It wasn’t until that first rush of blood, the unmistakable tightness of his uniform, that he realized his mistake.

“Seems you’ve got a,” your brow quirks as you glance downwards, “small problem.” The taunt is thrown his way with a cackle—high-pitched and nasty—sending a cold sweat down Katsuki’s back. The mere sound of your voice spurs him to anger, clouds his vision and urges him to prove you dreadfully wrong. The dig at his size doesn’t go by unnoticed either.

Heat blooms and crests within his chest, tides rising and falling. One moment he’s ablaze, unable to breathe, much less think, as he struggles to fight through it. Seconds later, the fire is quelled, replaced by a rose-colored twinge that fogs the corners of his vision and renders him helpless against his rising concern for your safety.

With every one of your throwing knives flung his way, a rude laugh or jeer is quick to follow, and yet, your voice is soft around the edges, sinfully sweet notes prickling at Katsuki’s ears and settling deep in his gut.

Try as he might to focus on the battle at hand, Katsuki realizes he’s unable to suppress the ever-growing bulge in his pants. The nagging feeling isn’t one of the superiority complex Katsu’s grown accustomed to, isn’t the need to put someone in their place purely to assert his dominance. There’s an enticement to it, a longing to prove himself to you, to show you he’s worthy of your gaze. His punches and kicks lose their gall and– fuck, did he just take a hit on purpose?

Of course he did; he doesn’t want to hurt you, wouldn’t risk harming such a precious, ethereal being.

He goes on like this for a while, in waves of disoriented, amateur mistakes and reprieves of chastisements. He knows better than this—is better than this. But it seems the harder he struggles, the tighter your grip on him becomes.

And it isn’t just his mind. Katsuki can’t slow his heart when he glances at your pillowy thighs, bare and dripping with beads of hard-earned sweat. He can’t stop his cock from twitching when he notices the quick rise and fall of your chest, scantily-clad and practically begging to be touched.

From the edges of your fingers to the steel-tipped toes of your boots, everything about you drips seduction, compelling Katsuki to drink from the poisoned glass. Desire grips him by the throat, parches him, and burns harder and brighter than any explosion he could ever attempt to spark.

“Lust,” he finally finds the strength to choke out, calling out to you as he drops to his knees, “enough.”

The use of your hero name—as opposed to the colorful assortment of insults he usually calls you—must be enough to spark concern, because you immediately discard your throwing knives and crouch at his side. He doesn’t immediately notice you, his gut still heavy and pulsing with need.

Despite the pain, he isn’t quite sure whether he wants you to turn off the damn quirk or keep it on long enough to fix the mess you’ve gotten him into.

“Bakugo?” There’s no hint of triumph in your tone, no gloating or celebration of your ambitious victory. It’s sympathy, braided through your scrunched brows and stamped into your tooth-torn bottom lip.

It makes him furious.

In seconds, he flips you beneath him, back hitting the mat with a soft thud. “Bakugo?” You repeat, seemingly stunned by his sudden change, mouth agape as he removes his gloves. “What are you—”

And then, his lips are on you, slick with sweat and spit, the kiss all tongue and teeth as he attempts to quench the insatiable thirst you caused. He doesn’t know what to expect, but when your hands wrap through his matted locks to pull him closer, he’s satisfied; he’s worthy. If the drink is poisoned, so be it.

Katsuki allows his hands to roam as they yearned to earlier, running rough fingertips down the sticky skin of your neck. They travel further to trace circles against your heart and further still, until he grazes at pebbled nipples.

“Mmph.” Your mewl is muffled against him as you tap at his shoulder, most likely asking for a second to breathe. How long has it been since he came up for air? Katsuki’s unable to shake the fuzz clouding his brain, hand-spun sugar on your tongue keeping him placid.

When he finally lifts his head from yours, he’s unable to tear his gaze from the string of spit connecting you, even going as far as running a digit across your swollen lips. Your chest still shakes, your eyes glazed over. Bliss. Does your power affect you as well, or is he not giving himself as much credit as he should?

He’ll be damned if he allows you to upstage him yet again.

“Turn it off,” he grunts, surprised at the hoarseness of his own voice. You don’t quite answer, just offer a tilt your head and a sickly sweet, ‘hm?’ that has the blonde itching to leave you breathless again. “Shut off your damned quirk.”

At that, you let out a soft chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his face towards you once more. Your lips ghost the shell of his ear, sucking at it until he lets out a weary breath. Chills travel Katsuki’s body when your sultry voice whispers,

“Baby,” another twitch of his cock, another chill at the pet name, “I stopped using it ages ago.”

It’s all he needs to hear to pounce.

In seconds, his lips are all over you again—drinking that sweet, sweet nectar as his tongue slides against yours. It’s dizzying, mind-numbing, far more intoxicating than the charm of any quirk; even more so when he peppers kisses down your jaw and neck, the sweat-soaked skin offering the perfect balance.

The rough blonde sucks lower, and lower still, peeling off your bodysuit as he travels your hills and valleys. When you’re finally bare, he pauses to stare, a poor sinner basking in the divine for the very first time. And you? You simply relish in his attention, don’t rush him along or cover yourself from his prying eyes.

“Fuck,” he sighs, brushing a digit lazily across your waist. Your body pebbles at the contact, shivering lightly beneath him. “All for me.” He nudges your legs apart, crouching low so he’s eye to eye with your pretty cunt. “And this,” he runs a finger against your slit, watches as it glistens over with your slick, “this is all because of me.”

“Ah– Katsuki.” He smirks when your hips jerk, silently searching for more. “Please.”

Who’d allow a deity to ask twice?

He tongues you with fervor, taking his sweet time to savor every part of you. It begins with your thighs, bruised a pretty purple in the shape of Katsuki’s mouth, closer and closer to where you need him most. No matter how much you gripe and whine, threading your fingers through his wiry hair to nudge him towards your cunt, he doesn’t let up. You’re not getting off that easily—and besides, a proper oblation requires precious time and patience.

A long stripe up your slit, slow and steady, his tongue flattened against you to sop up every bit of you. He wants to be soaked, wants you to see him covered and gleaming in your essence, to know how long he’s longed for this moment. When he suckles at your clit, sparks prickle his own body, reveling in the low mewls of his name—the littles ‘ah’s and ‘oh god’s that spill from your mouth like a mantra.

Of course, Katsuki can’t quell the throbbing of his cockhead beneath his pants. He’s always been a taker, and the desire is relentless, every slight shift of his body causing him to groan, every lap at your slit making him scrunch his brows together and sigh against your bundle of nerves. But he simply settles for rutting against the mat, unable to sacrifice your pleasure—the obscene parting of your lips, the glazed over look in your eyes as you stare down at him—for his own.

“M’so—,” you whimper, panting, “so close.” Your legs tremble, thighs pressed tight against either side of his face, smothering him so that everything sounds a bit muffled. “Keep, ah- fuck, keep fucking going.”

Something about the vulgarities slipping from your lips only makes Katsuki hungrier, urging him to lap harder at you—and hump faster against the mat. At this point, the two of you are a true mess, drenched in slick and sweat and too much heat, but the sloppiness leaves him light-headed, aching for more.

“Wanna see you,” his voice is gruff and sharp as he rubs circles into your clit with the pad of his thumb, “cum all over me, princess.”

Maybe it’s the pet name, or perhaps the pressure in your gut has finally come to a head, but his wish is your command. Within seconds, you’re gushing on his tongue, crying out a long, repeated string of ‘fuck,’ and ‘oh god, yes.’

Katsuki fucks you through it, feeling the coil in his own gut pulled taut and ready to snap. The entire time, he doesn’t stop rutting against the mat, disregarding how needy he must look to you. When he cums, he does so with a loud groan, lips pressed around your clit even as you tug him away with shaky hands. The taste of you, the flash of white that sears through him, could keep him going forever.

“I can’t.” Your heels dig into his back, pushing him closer even as you surrender, “N-need a second.”

The plea seems to snap him out of his haze, glancing up at you to see tears streaking your cheeks and a soft, fucked out smile plastered across your face. “Oh God,” you mumble, hands moving to cover your eyes, “your face.”

Katsuki only raises a brow and grins wolfishly, swiping the back of his hand at his chin and his tongue across his lips to lap up what you left behind. “My face is fine. Prefer it this way, actually.”

Then he’s moving again, rising to pick you up into his arms even as you slap at his shoulder and squeal,

“Where the hell are we going?”

“The showers,” he responds cooly, smirk still glued to his face, “Need to test the limits of your quirk.”

Maybe he’ll power through it, maybe you’ll overpower him once again; he wins either way.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo x female reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha katsuki x reader #LETS GO BABY FIRST SMUT IN FOREVERRR #IF HES OOC IM SORRY #AS MUCH AS I LOVE KATSU IM SO BAD AT WRITING HIM

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bokettochild · 3 years ago

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A Hero Protects His Own - Part 1

Ao3

AU is by @ryssbelle I just write for it!!!! Go check them and their awesome AU out!!!!

..........................................................................................................................

Loud.

It’s loud and the camp is overwhelmingly tense as Legend screams harsh words in a language Twilight doesn’t understand. The others sit in silence, either burying their heads in their hands or trying their hardest to ignore it while Sky stares cold and impassive at the vet.

He shrinks back into his hood.

He’s fought the worst of the worst; monsters, evils, shadows and nightmares from realms beyond what the others will ever know, but somehow hearing his brothers screaming at each other like this is what it takes to make him shiver and shrink back.

Or maybe it’s the steel in Sky’s eyes.

He’s tried to separate them, tried to stop Legend antagonizing the Chosen Hero, and for a while he even thought it worked! Sky and Legend had bonded some after what the three of them refer to as “the bunny incident” Legend with a fierce blush and Sky and himself with grins and teasing. The vet would tease them, stand at their side and back them up, and they would do the same for him. That’s just the power of secrets, sharing them makes you closer to other people.

But then they’d been dropped in Legend’s world. They’d come to the veteran’s Hyrule and spent a day at his house and gone out to the forest with Ravio to investigate something strange that the merchant had seen. When they'd come to the cozy cottage, Sky had been teasing Legend and receiving playful jabs in return, but the next morning when everyone woke up there was stone cold silence between the two, Ravio overcome with nervous energy that, to their collective shock, had earned him some rather sharp words from the Skyloftian when the merchant had gotten them lost in the woods.

From there it got worse.

Legend and Sky are almost always at each other's throats now, icy blue and raging indigo burning into each other as Time has struggled to keep them separate, neither willing to explain their spat and Ravio to overcome to even attempt it.

The bunny merchant clings to Warriors even now, their scarves wrapped over the both of them and tying them together as Warriors paints the merchant’s nails, speaking softly and recounting adventures the two had apparently shared in an attempt to distract him from the shouting that fills the camp and the heated stares being shot between two heroes.

Sky’s hand grips the hilt of the Master Sword where it lies in his lap and Legend’s fist at his sides while he stands over the older hero, face twisted up in an ugly expression as he spews words Twilight knows he doesn’t want to understand.

“Make it stop.” Four whimpers, head buried in his side as the smithy’s shoulders tense further with each word. “It hurts.”

“Guys-” He tries, he really does, to be firm, but when there's so much anger already in the air, he knows that yelling will only do so much good, and when Sky’s sharp eyes meet his, usually so gentle and dreamy but now flashing with lightning and shadowed in thunderclouds, it’s all he can do to keep his voice low enough to not worsen things for Four.

“You’re hurting Four.” Time scolds.

Legend’s mouth snaps shut, Sky’s hands twitching as the two both look over the miserable bundle against his side.

“Fine.” Legend snaps, crossing his arms and looking away.

“Apologies.” Sky nods.

It’s easy to believe Sky will be a king one day when he acts like that. There’s no doubt that their usually sleepy friend can rule and command when he sits poker straight, actions clipped as his words and tone deep enough to rival times when he speaks. Gone are the gentle words and reassuring smiles, instead replaced with regal nods and flashing silver eyes. The war cape that usually warms shivering heroes on cold nights is a cape, and the halo cast over the Skyloftian’s honey-hair is a crown in the firelight.

Twilight has to shift in his place.

Thank Ordonia the two both have a soft spot for the smithy, otherwise they’d be here all night! And, while he loves the wolf that nestles inside of his heart, he also hates how the wolf’s senses affect his own. Legend’s shrieks might be annoying to the others, but to himself and Four, they’re agonizing.

Then again, he has to muffle a strained chuckle as Legend stomps past on his way to his bedroll, which is as far as possible from Sky’s without Time raising his brows, rabbits do scream rather loudly, don’t they.

“Are they done?” Four’s eyes actually have tears in them when he looks up, face flushed and miserable as he peeks up out from under the tail end of the wolf pelt.

“Yeah.” He has to keep his voice low as he answers, Four’s headaches are well known to be absolutely awful, and he can’t help but gently pet the smithy’s hair in an attempt to comfort him.

Baby.

Twilight has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Four’s nearly an adult.

Baby. The wolf in his soul rumbles, and Twilight has to mentally restrain himself from pulling the little smithy into his arms and absolutely suffocating him with his fluffy pelt and arms as he holds him as tight as possible. He thinks Four once explained why they want to squeeze babies and small things so much, but he can’t be bothered to dig through all of the smithy’s rants about Hylian behavior in order to remember it.

It was something related to eating though, and the thought makes him wrinkle his nose.

“Good.” Four sighs, flopping fully against him and tugging the pelt over his eyes. “They do that again and I’m gonna slap them both. Jerks.”

A laugh rumbles through his chest as the wolf growls in approval.

Fierce baby. The Wolf laughs.

He’s close to our age. Twilight reminds himself. He jist looks small and young.

Never mind that the smithy has his childish moments, eyes glimmering red and warm as he laughs along with Wind as the two watch some prank or another play out. It’s always hard to tell if Four is just laughing at their misfortune or if he’s the reason for it and is reveling in his genius, because when questioned the smithy always looks so childishly innocent or entirely unimpressed. It’s a difficult thing to pin the blame on the smithy, and they’ve all quite given up. Except Sky.

Sky, who can read Four like a book and is currently shooting worried glances in the smithy’s direction, all fire and rage gone from crystal eyes when the Skyloftian catches sight of the smithy curled up beside him, only his legs and stockinged feet visible beneath the pelt. “Is he okay?”

Twilight nods. “Exhausted, fightin’ a bad headache, but he says it ain’t quite a migraine.”

The other hero nods with a wince. “You got him then?”

Oh definitely. This is his little brother! Of course, he can take care of him! “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

He’s feeling guilty.

They are close, he prob’bly just wants to help.

“You good, Sky?”

Crystal blue meets his slowly, a pained smile on his brother’s face as Sky settles down on his other side, reaching over quickly to gently pat Four’s knee before answering. “Yeah. Legend just-” Sky answers, running a hand through his hair with a huff of his puffed-out cheeks. “Vet’s a Hylia Blessed piece of work somedays!”

Laughter spills from him this time, and he can’t stop it even when Four pokes his side irritably. “That has got to be the nicest way I’ve e’er heard someone call another person an ass! Did you just say ‘Hylia blessed’?”

Sky rolls his eyes. “I love Legend same as any of you guys, he’s just...” Another heavy puff of breath, one that he didn’t know Sky could even manage with his asthma, billows out, ruffling the Skyloftian’s bangs as he motions to where Legend is sat with his back against Warriors, Twilight would almost dare to say that the vet is pouting as War reaches over to gently ruffle the vet’s hair fondly while Ravio chirps something nervous and encouraging at him.

“He can a bit difficult.” He finishes, but Sky shakes his head fiercely.

“That’s not it! I deal with difficult people all the time! My best friend was the biggest ass I knew before he stopped trying to one up me and started to actually help. I can handle a bit of sass and snark, I mean, look at us!” Sky exclaims, motioning to the camp and everyone in it.

“Keep it down!” Four hisses. “Headache!”

“Sorry.” He choruses with Sky as the smithy glares up at the both of them before retreating back underneath the protective shade of his wolf pelt.

“It’s not the grouchiness, or the snark.” Sky explains softly, blue eyes pained as they glance at Legend. “We’re just. We have very different opinions about some things.” He’s about to say something when Sky cuts him off, eyes glistening softly in the fire as he stares across at the pouting vet. “I get that he doesn’t care for the goddesses. I’m not happy with it, but I can respect his opinions; they’re valid as much as mine are, and he has his reasons to feel the way he does. But some things-” The Skyloftian shakes his head fiercely, eyes going stony again. “Some things aren’t open for discussion like faith and beliefs. Hard, cold facts can’t be denied, no matter how much Legend would like to.”

There’s a bite in Sky’s voice again, and it makes him flinch back. Beneath his pelt, Four’s fingers clench his tunic, the smithy stiff as a board again. He sneaks an arm around the younger hero, squeezing gently in reassurance as he follows Sky’s gaze to the trio opposite them, where Legend is glaring at a laughing Warriors while Ravio giggles softly along, the three melting back into their seamlessly antagonistically friendly behavior around each other.

“Legend’s smart. But he’s also blind.” Sky bites out bitterly. “And it’s just gonna get him hurt.”

He’s about to ask what Sky means, but at that very moment Wild jumps up from sitting beside Time, ears pricked and eyes wide as a hoarse-shout rings from his cub’s throat. “Monster attack!”

Monsters.

The growl rumbles in his chest as he pulls himself to his feet, Four following with a groan and Sky already sprinting across the camp with the Master Sword drawn and in hand.

The monsters are on them before most of them even have a chance to draw their blades.

Mindless beasts swirl about, blocking his vision of the others as he dances through them, fending off any headed towards the suffering smithy while simultaneously trying to carve a path for himself and Four to where the others are.

“Eyes out for the black one!” Warriors voice rises over the din of blades crashing and monsters squealing, all of the playfulness of the moment before replaced with the practiced calm and clipped tones of a soldier.

“Aye Captain!” Wind shouts back, followed by Wild and Time, the only one’s accustomed to a soldier’s commands, as they thrust themselves into the battle.

The monsters swarm thicker and thicker, but in every spare second, he keeps his eyes open, searching the crowd for the black lizalfoes that’s been the source of so much of their trouble lately. Nothing can be seen save monster after monster of the normal sort, their blood streaking red across the dirt, thin and weak as bodies fall with more ease than any of their previous battles.

“These ‘blins are red blooded!” He calls out. “Keep your guards up! They strong one’s are prob’bly holdin’ back!”

The Ordon Sword sings through the air, but despite his own warning, the monsters are already starting the thin. More stream in from the forest, but they runabout wild like any old ‘blins and lizards, none of the intelligence or strength of their corrupted cousins making an appearance so often recently. The same can be said of the black lizalfoes; no one can spot it, there’s no flash of black in the crowd save for his own pelt as he spins and stabs, dancing easily along to Warriors’ side.

“Any sign?” The captain pants out, parrying an enemy blade and thrusting forwards to skewer the moblin before him.

“None.” He heaves back, raising his shield against his own opponent and pushing back against the spear that embedded it inside. “Have you seen Four? I lost him in the mob?”

The words are hardly out of his mouth before a scream, all too harsh and broken sounded across the field. “Sky!”

Midnight meets royal blue as soldier and rancher lock eyes for all of a moment before swinging out with all their might at their enemies, razing them low and clearing their vision long enough to stare over the field.

Four is clutching at his sword arm, eyes wide and staring as they looked to where Sky has been cast onto the ground a few paces away, thrown by the force of a blow that no doubt had been headed for the smithy himself. No ordinary monster could land a blow on Sky unless he was rushing to someone else’s rescue, and the guilt already filtering into the smithy’s eyes was all that is needed to confirm the thought.

The Master Sword lies on the forest floor, to far from Sky for the knight to grasp it as he pulls himself to his knees, enemies already baring down on him from all directions.

“Sky!” Twin voices shout.

Flying-Heart!!!! The Wolf screams inside of him, pushing his feet forwards to charge to Sky’s side.

Red flashes before him, swirling fabric, the color of aged blood and wine, a hood like a poe’s drawn up over a being’s head, a single blackened hand reaching out from beneath, red swirling over clawed fingers as Sky’s breath comes heaving from his lungs, side bleeding from the blow that had downed him.

A voice, neither high nor low but pitched in such a way that none could hear quite what was being said, murmurs something as the power on the blackened hand pulses.

Monsters rage around the hero and poe-like being, but none step closer to Sky, although their eyes trail to him eagerly every so often when Heroes, desperate to save their brother, aren’t hacking through their numbers.

A moblin rises before Twilight, blocking his vision for precious seconds before a roar built in his chest and his sword cleft the being in two. The second was enough though. Sky’s scream sounds over the field, harsh and grating and agonizing! The wolf throbs inside of him, tearing at the walls of his mind as he attempted to press through the creatures keeping him from his brother.

“Get back you-” Legend’s words are cut off sharply by Time’s scream of rage as the biggoron sword swings and fells three monsters at once. The Master Sword gleams in Legend’s hands as he launches himself at the being, teeth set and eyes flashing as he swings down, making the red-cape dart back as the pink-haired hero came to a halt between hero and monster, Sky’s weakening breath ringing over the field.

The vet’s eyes flash to meet his for only a moment. “Kick ass! We need to end this!”

A firm nod, the wolf is already raging inside him and he gave it full control as his blade and shield fend off and fell enemy after enemy, their screams and blood running over him like the air itself, so little he cares for them. His only job now is to beat back the monsters, give Legend space to work, keep Sky safe.

Beat the monsters.

Give Legend space to wreak havoc.

Protect Sky.

Beat the monsters.

Give Legend space to wreak havoc.

Protect Sky.

Beat the monsters.

Give Legend space to wreak havoc.

Protect Sky.

Like a dirge of war, the wolf’s thoughts swirl with his own, red clouding his vision as the Ordon Sword severs limbs and head and cleft bodies in two. Feet dance the war stomps of bloodlust as eyes flash with the golden of the wolf.

“Portal!” Wild screams over the din of the monsters falling. “Hylia’s!” His pup sounds strained, rage and terror mixing in a cocktail of fury as arrows plunge into the enemy and weapons fly loose across the Champion’s personal battle space, an area where even the monsters drew back in fear while the rest of the heroes give the youngster ample space to cause chaos.

Sure enough, the portal’s golden power is sweeping across the field, the faint brush of feathers over their cheeks and shoulders and the whisper of warmth and honey as the goddess’s strength flows over the field.

“Legend, watch out!” Hyrule’s cry cuts through, and Twilight only has enough time to see the blackened hand swing forwards and catch hold of Legend’s tunic before the golden glow of the shift swept it all away.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #devine beast sky #devine twili beast sky #raven of sky #lu sky #lu legend #lu twilight #lu four #idiot writes angst #danggit! I forgot to tag Ravio on ao3!!!!#uh... yeah #lu ravio #lu time #lu hyrule #lu warriors #lu wind #lu wild #ryssbelle my beloved

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