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djarinsbeskar · 3 years ago

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Counterstrike - Boxer!Din AU

Definition - a strike that retaliates against an earlier strike.

A/N: Finally back with a long awaited instalment for Boxer!Din. I’m floored by the response he has received since I posted him first and I just wanted to thank you all so much for showing him (and me) so much love (and lust). In particular, I’d like to dedicate this instalment to @bestinbeskar @honestly-shite @3frontier and @pedro4ever for the gorgeous art of Boxer!Din they each made! Links can be found on the Boxer!Din masterlist below.

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected sex (do as I say, not as I write), semi-public sex, rough dom!Din, dirty talking, no beta.

Main Masterlist | Boxer Materlist

Ever since he first fucked you in the middle of his boxing ring, Din had developed a bit of a bad habit. A habit that involved finding some way to bury his cock inside you ever time he saw you; an inconvenience since you mostly came across each other in less than private settings. His gym, the sports clinic, or the massage studio you worked at.

It was sweltering, the city falling under the hold of a heatwave that no number of cold showers would help cool. Din ran hot by nature, and the heat only served to make him two things: irritable and horny.

That might explain the near instant reaction he had to the tempting little sundress you wore to combat the suffocating heat when you popped your head around the main doors of the gym. Your day off if the lack of uniform was anything to go by. A vision in coral pink and flushed skin, you beamed against the metal and muted, dark tones of the boxing area.

Sweat dropped down his temple from where he lay on the bench press, bare chest glistening and muscles taut as he lowered the barbell down slowly to his chest. Trained, expert eyes – honed instinct to notice every miniscule move of an opponent – picked up the flash of color and immediately flickered over to where you were approaching him.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

His jaw clenched as he turned his attention resolutely back up to stare at the ceiling, focus Djarin. With a measured exhale, his muscles bunched to press the heavy weight back up away from his body, held it for a beat, and let it lower once more on a slow inhale.

Three more.

His head turned towards you to admire your form as you traced your hand over the dumbbell stand, skilled fingers walking along the progressively heavier weights while your eyes met his in the wall of mirrors behind the stand. You smiled. And it lit your face up.

Jesus fucking Christ.

His eyes dropped from yours down your body indulgently, content to hold the weight of the barbell a beat longer. The way that dress clung to every damned curve he wanted to sink his fingers and teeth into, the swish of the skirt barely reaching the middle of supple thighs that looked better thrown over his shoulders. The fucking nerve you had to not bother concealing the faded mark on the top of your breast where it peeked out from over your neckline where he left it several days ago.

His mouth twisted into a snarl, his mark. Damn fucking right.

You were teasing him, crossing one ankle over the other to turn towards him with a dainty twirl of your skirt. Don’t get distracted on the bench, he growled to himself internally, and with a grunt, he pushed the barbell back up, the lines of muscles that cut across his triceps flexing taut and his pectorals pulsed from the strain of exercising them.

The pulse of his cock in his gym shorts on the other hand, that wasn’t a muscle that was supposed to be engaged for this particular exercise.

Two more.

“Miss me already, sweetheart?”

He ground out, voice rough and strained—keenly aware of the sway of your hips as you walked back towards the bench, his eyes at perfect eye level to thighs he wanted to wrap around his waist. You passed his head – fuck, he could smell you from here – to stand by his hips. He brought the barbell back down slowly towards his chest, breathing more labored than it should be and his jaw clenched in frustration. You were getting to him.

His grip on the metal bar almost slipped entirely when you hiked up the skirt of your dress to kick one leg over the bench and straddle his hips, the sudden weight and heat making him grunt in surprise.

You were soaked—he realized at the same time it dawned on him that you weren’t wearing any underwear.

“Does this answer your question?”

Voice as light and airy as the lavender scent that suffused the room you gave massages in—making his teeth grind and his hips struggle to remain still when memories of that same voice breathless and gasping with moans he elicited rose in his memory.

You rubbed yourself over the thick outline of him through his gym shorts – you little fucking tease – and sweat wasn’t the only thing dampening them anymore.

“Finish your workout, Din,” you sighed breathily, hooded eyes scanning the empty gym floor appreciatively—basking in the ability to rock so openly and languidly over his throbbing cock. It was a sunny day. It was the end of the week. No one was in the gym—and that was precisely why Din chose to work out now.

His eyes never left yours, molten pools filling with dark promise clashed with yours as your small hands found the planes of his tight abdomen, the muscles clenching sensitively under your touch,

“Keep your back straight… don’t want to injure yourself again—” you purred and received a warning growl in response when he pushed the weight back up, a ripple of heated arousal gathering low at his spine and tightening to a coil beneath your hands that indulgently ran over toned muscles and tawny, inked skin.

One more.

Fuck… but you felt so good. Grinding on him like that.

Din’s hips rocked up against you despite himself, his heels pressing into the grate metal flooring to push his clothed cock against your dripping cunt, your soft gasp when he caught your clit music to his ears and the last bit of motivation he needed to drop the barbell back to his chest. You focused your ruts on the tip of his bulge, the fucking audacity you had to use him to get yourself off—grinding your clit over his soaked shorts and digging short nails into his stomach while soft, gentle eyes darkened with lust bore into his.

He lowered his hips again, smirking at the soft whine of annoyance you couldn’t mask in order to adjust his posture correctly. With one last exhale, a panted curse as corded muscles tensed and released with a final burst of energy, his arms straightened once more above him.

Finally.

He had a hand tangled in the length of your hair before the clatter of the metal barbell hitting the hooks of the stand above him died out, yanking you down until your breasts were flush with his heaving chest. His other hand – calloused and rough – grabbed a fistful of your ass, the soft material of your dress bunching effortlessly in his hand,

“Didn’t get enough last week, baby?” he growled against your mouth, guiding your hips over his cock harder now that he could thrust shallowly against you, grinning darkly at your keen of frustration when his mouth glanced yours, avoiding kissing you, “fuck, you’re soaked for me already—”

Teeth grazing your jaw, you arched your neck back in blind submission, the hand caught against his stomach shifting down to tug at his shorts, succeeding in getting them only halfway down. You both groaned at the contact when wet, slick heat burned around the leaking head of his cock, making the heatwave outside feel like nothing more than a warm breeze.

“Din…” you moaned when a perfectly timed grind of his hips knocked the blunt tip against your hooded bundle of nerves, “a week is too long…” you admitted to the boxer’s delight. Finally. He wasn’t the only one going stir crazy only seeing you sporadically.

“Yeah?” he rasped, tightening his hold in your hair so he could keep your head pulled back while he licked a small trickle of sweat that was slowly making its way down to the hollow of your throat, “thinking about my cock all this time?”

Feral pride filled him at your immediate nod, his chest swelling with a primal snarl – why the fuck did you have to agree so easily, he’d never stop thinking about it now – and captured your lips heatedly with his own. Growling your name, he plundered your mouth—lapping along your tongue and groaning at your taste, swallowing your soft sighs and mewls of satisfaction at finally having his lips on yours again.

His hand dropped from your hair to drag down your spine, down the thin fabric that clung to your heated skin until he was dipping two thick digits between exposed cheeks to swipe through your drenched folds. Circling, spreading, coaxing whines and groans of his name with every press of his fingers. Music more beautiful than even the most skilled pianist could create, and all from the fingers of a fighter.

Conversation from elsewhere in the vicinity carried through empty corridors and with a dip of his fingers into your quivering entrance – chestnut eyes sharpened to dark amber watching doe eyes flutter shut in pleasure – his words breathed into your mouth when your lips parted against his,

“Locker room. Now.”

What followed was a heated scramble, a need to be close—to remain in this transcendent bubble of scorching touches and burning attraction. He practically dragged you with him across the gym floor, weaving between machines with his hand wrapped firmly around your wrist. You already looked wrecked, thoroughly corrupted with mused hair, and crooked clothing. Your legs wobbled as you followed his menacing frame, eyes glued to the shifting muscles in his back, an apex predator dragging his prey back to devour in rapture. You went willingly.

The tiles of the shower cubicle were cold when he shoved you against them – the only place remotely private in the locker room when he tugged the thin curtain closed behind you – his hands flexing around your jaw when he turned your face up for him to kiss. Free hand pressing into the small of your back, he made you arch against him, and you mewled at the solid length of him throbbing against your stomach.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he rumbled, hand snaking around to disappear beneath the skirt of your dress again as he rocked his hips against you slowly—cupping your cunt and his teeth leaving a trail of bites down your throat as his words whispered across the tiles.

You blushed.

He saw it—even above the flush of arousal, he saw your cheeks darken and your eyes flicker to the side at his words. Avoiding his gaze, expecting a hunter’s response of claws and teeth to your doe-like display of weakness—and his eyes softened minutely. Some of the aggressive tightness bled from his gaze which he hid in a nip to your jaw, the heel of his hand rubbing in tempting circles over your swollen clit while his fingers split along your entrance, smearing your slick over puffy lips.

You rocked your hips over his hand needily, fingers scratching down the sides of his neck, scoring passion into the tanned skin and whispers against his lips – please Din, please – along with the pleasurable pain rippling from your nails compelled him to shove two fingers knuckle deep into your tight cunt.

He covered your mouth quickly with his palm when an unadulterated moan ricocheted off the tiles, echoing louder – “fuck baby, quiet” – was hissed against your cheek even as his fingers picked up a merciless pace of pump pump pump, his thumb swiping across your clit, his speed building—making it harder for you to stay quiet as you whimpered against his hand.

Nails digging into his shoulders, you buried your face into his sweat slick neck when he dropped his hand from your mouth to hike your leg up over his arm, spread you wider for him to thrust soaked fingers into your sopping core.

When you came the first time, you bit his neck—his teeth baring from the sting while his fingers scissored against your convulsing walls, dragging you through contractions of pleasure that sent spikes of electricity to cloud your brain in a muffled babble of yes yes yes sobbed into his neck.

Condensation misted the tiles by your head as heat lifted from sweltering bodies. Din growled praise, rough rasps of “good girl, that’s it…” into your ear as you relaxed around fingers that were lazily curling up inside you, your mouth working lazily over the sensitive point where his jaw met his neck, nipping—licking, begging him to fuck you.

His brain short circuited.

His large body caging you against the wall, you preened and arched and tempted him into you with soft sighs of his name and your hands tracing down to the hem of his shorts. Heavy, lust-pooled eyed followed your hands, watching you pull him from his shorts and stroke him with expert fingers that never failed to make him fall apart—on your table, in your bed… you bewitched him with touch since first he met you. He was a slave to it.

“Fuck, baby—” he groaned, his head falling back before he swiped your hands away from his swollen length, giving it a few hard strokes as he ran the head between your exposed folds. He filled you with on thrust, a filthy squelch as your pussy accepted him – unable to be gentle, unable to take his time when all he could think of was claiming you over and again, of meeting your counterstrike with a knockout and hearing your surrender in cries of his name.

He was big—so big that every time he filled you, it felt like he was splitting you apart. The smallest hint of pain, the breach of his cock melting into a delicious fire that licked and coated your nerves as the fat head knocked against soft tissue inside you. He found his pace with a slow rut that dragged his cock along tight walls where you could feel every single vein throb enticingly against you.

His facial hair sanded across your cheek as he panted how good you felt, how tight—how addicted he was to the feel of you, how he wanted to fuck you for hours. Your nails curved down over the muscles of his shoulder blades, along his waist—basking in his size, his strength—his head lowering to scrape his teeth over the swell of your breast, sucking over the ghost of his previous mark and drawing blood back to the surface as he snapped his hips back into you.

And then the door to the locker room opened, and conversation filled it.

Din didn’t even think before slamming his fist onto the water pressure, drenching the two of you in seconds with cool water and drowning the sounds of his cock slamming into you with the hiss of water falling in rivulets down your bodies.

You moaned, too far gone to know – or care – that you weren’t alone, and his hand came back up to cover your mouth with a warning growl into your ear, “Shut up, unless you want to give them a show.”

Even as he said it, his pace grew harder—punching gasps and sounds of surprised pleasure from parted lips that were only mitigated by the calloused palm he folded over them. Your nipples pebbled through soaked fabric, drawing his eager mouth down to suck it raw through the dress, whimpers for more echoed in the tight clench of your cunt around his glistening length.

Steam filled the shower, bleeding out into the locker room where laughter and conversation blended to mask the wet slaps of his skin against yours, the sodden movement of clothes and his guttural groans around your nipple as you clawed at his undulating back.

“Din—” you whispered, panting as strands of your hair fell into your face—fucked out and divine when his mouth slanted over yours again, your chest heaving while one hand lifted to cup his jaw, keeping his mouth on yours. He snapped into the dripping grasp of your pussy hard, shoving you up the wall onto your toes, the graze of the short coarse hairs at the base of his cock tickling over your sensitive clit.

“So fucking loud…” he growled on a whip of anger, the sound cracking down the feral possessiveness of his tone and making you moan. He would spank that pretty ass red, your pussy pink if there wasn’t the risk of the sound carrying to the other athletes getting changed for their workout.

Oh well.

That just meant he would have to take you again later.

His balls tightened and his stomach clenched at the thought, fuck. He wanted you again and he hadn’t even cum yet—your tight little cunt already quivering and tightening around him with your oncoming orgasm as he lost himself in eyes flooded with open desire— disarming him with the candor he saw reflected in them. He swallowed thickly.

“Gonna ruin you, sweetheart,” was his immediate reaction, the only way he could think to reciprocate. A gush of wetness pushed around his cock drilling into you, your walls getting impossibly tighter, and he smirked darkly—his nose pressing into your cheek, teeth bared and feral, “you’d like that, huh?”

Delirious nods were all you were capable of as silent gasps kept your lips parted, eyes rolling back when his thumb dropped to draw tight, fixated little circles on your clit—forcing you over the edge with a final blow that sucked the breath right out of you, the boxer taking and taking and taking everything he wanted from you with wet thrusts and brutal bites to your already marked neck.

He swallowed your orgasm with his mouth, the wet strands of his hair dripping water onto your pretty face as he sucked your tongue into his mouth, dropping his free hand to slide down the length of your side as his thrust turned erratic, chasing his high—chasing that bliss he could only find buried deep inside you.

“Cum, Din—cum,” you breathed, cupping his face as you smiled—exhaustion written plain on your face and his brows pinched in concentration, dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a gasp of your name, breathless as he pulled out—his hand moving frantically over the swollen length of him until he coated your mound and dress with his release. It washed away in streaks of milky white down your body, a subtle pang of fatigued frustration to see it disappear so quickly flashing though him.

The locker room was silent when he turned the water pressure off.

Apart from your labored breathing, the locker room was silent—the prior occupants leaving none the wiser or – if they had heard anything – wisely leaving.

Din dropped your leg from where it remained hooked over his arm, his hands fisting in the skirt of your dress to drag the sodden material up and over your head with a shiver at the uncomfortable feeling of wet clothes.

The sight of your naked body made his softening cock twitch, dammit. You were all gentle curves and soft skin, clothed in the marks of his mouth and bruises of his grip.

He wanted you again.

And caged within his arms, trapped with his hands pressed either side of your head, his shaggy head of soaked waves falling into dark, guarded eyes—you could admit you wanted him again too.

“I’ll wash your dress,” he rasped gruffly, taking a step back from you and kicking off his shorts to wring out and toss into his gym bag. He left the shower with effortless calm, as if he wasn’t stark naked but returned with a towel for you to wrap yourself in.

You flashed him a grateful smile that stuttered when he tossed another – smaller – towel on your head, rubbing it quickly over your soaked locks despite your complaints, a crooked smirk your only indication that he was playing.

“You don’t have t—”

“You can wait for it to dry at my place.”

His words brokered no argument as you padded after him into the empty locker room, the boxer rummaging through his own locker to pull out a simple white t-shirt—long enough to cover you… just about. The hem fell shorter than your dress and you were distinctly aware of your lack of underwear when you pulled it on.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he rumbled as he tugged a tight black muscle shirt over his head, looking down at you with a devastating smirk and sinfully half-lidded eyes, “I don’t share. No one will see you.”

Taglist:

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attackonmango · 3 years ago

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|Party of Five|Jean x Reiner x Reader x Marco x Bertholdt|Smut|

|This is a pretty long, disgusting and sexual one shot, that I wrote to The Take. It will be upward of a few thousand words, so I hope you like long, smutty chapters. Party of 5, right this way ;)|

"Go clean the showers, brat; you used them last," Levi ordered as he stopped by your room to assign your latest late-night chore. You tried your hardest not to groan out loud. It would help if you had listened to your roommate Ymir who told you to wait until morning.

"Aye, Aye, captain," you muttered, cursing him in your head as he left your shared quarters.

Heading to the supply closet, you grab two dozen handmade rags, a few buckets and a bunch of cleaning products.

The walk to the shower building wasn't far, thankfully. Though the sun has been down for a few hours, the summer air was still suffocating.

"I guess I'd rather be cleaning the showers than shovelling horse shit," you mutter as you pass by the smelly barn. You were laughing to yourself as you listen to Sasha and Connie argue, irritated due to the vile fumes that their masks couldn't protect them from.

As you make it to the showers, you hear laughter inside, and as you open the doors, it only gets louder.

You see Reiner, Jean, Bertholdt and Marco, chasing each other with towels. You watch as they pop each other with them, screaming when it came in contact with their skin.

As Jean and Bertholdt ran past you, Bertholdt popped you with a towel though he aimed for Jean. You cried out in pain, laughing due to shock. "Damn! That shit hurt." you scoffed, partially playing.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Bertholdt apologized profusely as he squinted his eyes, scratching his neck. His face flushed red as he looked at you with embarrassment.

Nodding, you raise your hands to put space between the two of you, "Just don't hit me anymore, accidental or on purpose." you laugh, and he joins in shyly.

"I'm guessing Levi set you to clean the girl's showers?" he asked, creating small talk to avoid awkward silence. He was thankful you had forgiven him so quickly.

"Yea, I'm gonna be here for a while. Not as long as you guys tho, I hear it's pretty bad in there." you laugh to yourself. That rumour has been floating around for a while since training began.

"It is; we've been here since six” Bertholdt exasperated. You both part ways, Bertholdt back on the hunt for Jean.

For the next two hours, you wipe up the wet floors, clean off the mirrors and toilets. You moped and began to clean individual showers. You made sure to make everything pristine as white, exactly how Levi likes it. You didn't want to be back down here tomorrow.

Something tells you that the boys would though, their laughter and the sounds of them running echoed of the walls. They definitely weren’t cleaning. Sometimes you'd see Jean, looking for the rag he lost hours ago. Reiner and Bertholdt rough housing like usually and Marco trying to get everyone to remain on task.

Suddenly in ran Marco, wailing as he raced from Reiner who carried a sloshing bucket of clear water. “I’m just trying to get out of here early? Whats so wrong with that?” Along with “I’m sorry, is that what you want to hear?”

You watch as Marco rans in your direction as Reiner braced himself to throw the clean water. “Hey chill out! I just wiped the floor.” You scold in protest.

Reiner shook his head, adamant that he do what he planned. “A little bit of water never hurt no body.” After that, everything went in slow motion. Marco slipped behind Y/N as the water splashed down on her.

"Yah!" You cried out as Reiner attempted to splash Marco with an entire bucket of water, but he moved out of the way as cold water pierced your skin; the boy's eyes widened as they drifted towards you. Their laughing came to a halt as they started. "Oh shit, " Reiner and Marco exclaim as they still their feet.

Plenty of the water splashed into your mouth and nose, causing you to cough it up. Hacking in front of Marco and Reiner, as your eyes pricked with tears. “Assholes.” You muttered before groaning loudly.

Reiner and Marco swallow thickly as they notice your tears of distress. Too bad they lacked sympathy, as you looked too good for them to care.

"I told you guys to fucking cool it, now I'm wet," you scold them as the shirt clung to your skin. You ran your hands through your hair as you sighed, frustration coursing through you. If looks could kill, they’d be dead because you were pissed.

You pay no attention to Jean and Bertholdt as they walk over to the girl showers, not noticing the way their eyes bulged in their sockets.

You watched as a blush crept up Marco's cheeks as he looked the other direction, refusing to make eye contact, Jean's mouth ajar, both surprise and pure happiness etched on his features.

"Hello, excuse me?" you glared as your hands landed on your hips, as one side jutted out. You turned to glare at Reiner, who grinned, staring intensely at your chest as Bertholdt turned around to avoid your gaze altogether.

Suddenly you shivered, glancing down; you notice you had a white shirt on. A wet white shirt on. "Oh shit!" You cried out, hands flying to cover your breast that we're on full display.

You couldn’t turn away because they stood around you on all sides, and someone would get a eyeful of tits. The best you could do was hiding them behind your arms and hands.

You laughed nervously, absolutely flustered, "Advert your eyes." Your face flushed as you shifted on your feet. Your heart raised as the situation set in. Reiner had exposed you while targeting Marco in front of the 4 of them while they gaped at you. Glancing around, you couldn't help but notices the pitches in their shorts.

"They look great, " Jean chuckled, raising a brow at you. He felt no shame as he drank in your figure. Jean always thought you were sexy. The way your breast filled your shirt, he noticed the way they bounced as you ran.

Reiner visibly cringed, tossing his head back with laughter. "You sound creepy, horse face." Reiner stalked towards you, his eyes flickering from your chest to your bottom lip that you had sucked between your teeth, chewing it until it had gotten red. The look in his eyes weakening your taut knees.

"And you're not?" Jean shot back at Reiner, who ignored him.

"My apologies, Y/N, that bucket was for Marco, " Reiner muttered huskily as he hooked a finger under the hem of your shirt as water dripped down your thighs, tugging harshly. The way he towered over you had you reeling.

Marco loved how plush your thighs were; though he was a gentleman, he isn't innocent. He could see himself dying happily with his head in between them. He couldn't curb the pang of jealousy that washed over him as Reiner toyed with your shirt. You were petrified and enticed as he did so.

You have always found Reiner attractive, as well as the other boys in the room. You had watched thrm grow from boys to men over tge last few years. So his proximity and gaze caused heat to pool in your pants, as you drank in his Earthy scent. His cool breath wafted across your face and the cold water he dumped on you. It didn’t help as the other peered down at you like predator ready to jump on prey. But that’s what this was, wasnt it.

Reiner's next question caused your jaw to drop, "Would you let us take you right here?" You hadn't noticed how close the boys had gotten, Jean and Reiner more so than the others. Reiner lifted his hand to cup your face, his callous hand tracing stars on your cheek.

Your eyes widened as you stared in shock, stepping back until someone pulled you into them, "I-" a hand groping your hip stole your will to speak.

"I bet she would, " Jean purred in your ear, as he pressed himself against you from behind. His clothed length rutting against your full bottom, he massaged your hips, causing your mind to race. "Don't say you haven't thought about it, love, having your brains fucked out while we use you." Jean wasn't wrong; you constantly thought of having to be under them while they ravaged your body, using up whatever they pleased. You thought of all the possibilities of dirty things they could do to you. But you never thought you’d do anything with one of them, in front of the rest of them. And you definitely didn’t think you’d be with all of them at the same time.

You find yourself absent-mindedly backing into Jean, loving the way his length prodded your butt. His fingers dig into your waist as he sensually moved his hips. "See, she's eager." Jean chuckled darkly as he reaches to grab a full fist of hair. He anchors your head, causing you to stare up at Reiner through hooded eyes. "Tell him, slut." You couldn't fight it as you were filled with desire. Usually, that word would hurt your feelings, but given the situation and opportunity at hand, it made you want more than a bit of friction.

Reiner looked down at you, his eyes soft as he waits for your answer. "It is the least you could do," your lashes flutter as you pull away from Jean enough to slip your sodden shirt off. Catering to your nerves, you covered yourself the best you could until Jean pulled your hands away.

"Definitely," Reiner muttered as his hands wander your upper body. Dropping to his knees, he guided your exposed breast into his mouth. His tongue swirled around your sensitive nipple as he tugged, nibbling slightly. You feel him grin as your breathy moans escape you, as you shuddered under their touch. Jean's palms were kneading your ass in his hands. He smirked as you crumple in him and Reiner's grasp as he mutters what he plans on doing to you.

You don't protest as Jean pulled your pants down, lifting your legs out of them. They were quickly discarded since they were no longer needed, along with your panties. His long fingers playing at your entrance.

Your hands danced around in Reiner's hair as he suckled on your bust. As you moaned softly, you tried your hardest not to push his head, but to no avail.

"Slow down, baby, " Reiner muttered as he pulled away, spit trailing from his lips to your sensitive bud, his eyes dilated as he palmed himself through his shorts. "You'll get what you want." The authority in his voice caused your core to dampen; you rub your moist thighs together to ease your desire. You nodded at him, signaling you understand.

“Atta girl,” he muttered, his thumb brushing over your cheek, wiping away water. A pout falls upon your lips as he pulled away too fast for your liking.

"Take these off, " Reiner ordered, referring to his clothes as he pinched your erect nipples, moistening them both.

"Yessir," you exasperate, shamelessly; you rush to get his shirt off, drooling as the shower lights glistened on his toned chest. As you worked on his belt, your hands shake causing Jean to laugh, you groan in agitation as you couldn’t even open his belt.

. "Help her out, man, she's struggling." his hand worked faster as he slipped in another digit inside, curling them as he hit your g spot.

Heat fills your stomach as you sigh into Reiner's chest, he pats your head, telling you it okay. “Guess I’ll do it myself.”

You sigh as his hands slip in between you, the familiar jingle of his belt causing you to clench around Jean’s finger. You feel as his hands work on his belt as you took time to revel in pleasure. Jean moved his other hand from your hip to work your clit, using your slick as a lubricant. You sank deeper into his arms while Reiner worked his belt off along with his pants.

It fell to the ground, the metal on it clinking as it hit the floor. You grin sexily as Reiner stood in all his glory. "There. Now finish," he spoke curtly. Slipping your hand into his boxers, you pull them down. Jumping as his cock sprang out, hitting your face because you were sandwiched between the two. Reiner’s dick was long and thick, his tip swollen with anticipation and his tip pink with want. You trail your fingers down his veins that were prominent on all sides, smiling as he sighed sensually, dick throbbing in your hands. Your eyes cut to Marco, who stood watching, panting slightly as his hand with hand in his pants. Bertholdt stood watching; his breathing laboured as he watched with a red face, his dick hard as well."What about those two, " you mutter as you stare into their eyes.

"Don't worry about them, " Jean spoke harshly as he pulled his clothes off his skin. "We're busy for now."

"Look at you, so interested in someone else's needs." Reiner praised once more, peppering your lips with soft kisses. "They'll get a turn. Right now, we're playing."

Jean pulls your legs, spreading them out. His hand trailed down your back as he kissed your neck, leaving love bites when he can. Jean pressed on the small of your back, asking you to arch. He leaned you down, your face in front of Reiner’s dick, who cupped your chin again, his fingers brushing against your lip as you sat on your hands and knees.

"Say ah," as he patted your face, his voice tantalizing and husky with seduction, asking you to open your mouth, you almost instantly complying. He guided his dick to and past your lips, brushing his pre-cum on your plush, full and moistened lips. Licking them, you hum with delight. Wrapping your tongue around his tip, you pull Reiner by his thighs as close as you could without choking.

You shudder as Jean aligned himself at your entrance, his tip drawing circles on your clit as you buck your hips involuntarily. Your moaning sent vibration down Reiner's length.

You grew irritated as Jean teased your hole with the swole tip of himself, you push away from Reiner, enough so you could be. “Don’t leave me hanging, Jean.” You muttered back at the brunette who glared darkly. You shiver as sly laughter fell from his lips.

A scream shot in you as Jean plunged into, slamming into your sweet spot. You couldn’t help the way Jean pushed you into Reiner, causing you to gagged around him. Your nose scrunches up as more precum slides down your throat as he throbbed on your wet muscle.

Making quick use of your throat, Reiner hips began to rock in a slow, tight motion as he fucked your face slowly, one hand on the back of your head, knotted loosely in your hair. The other is under your armpit and wrapped around your shoulder, tugging you farther from Jean.

Warm drool pools in your mouth and down your chin. It dribbled down his waist, slicking his balls, the squelching of your throat and the feel of your tongue lapping him up as you hummed on his dick as Jean teased your womanhood drove him insane, as he pulled you you closer, watching your mouth swallow him up, again and again.

"F-fuck, so good." Reiner sputtered out praise, massaging the back of your head gently with one hand. It was a miracle you could breathe because the two of them weren't giving you a chance.

Marco's hand was in his pants, pumping away slowly, chasing a nut as he watched Reiner and Jean play tug of war with you and manhandled you. Listening to you cry out and moan was enough to cause him to erupt all over his hand. You groan at the empty feeling you feel as Jean pulls out. It didn’t last long though, as you squelch and pucker around him.

Suddenly you cried out as Jean pushed into your pulsating core, stuffing you even though he hadn't bottomed out. You're hogging Y/N, Reiner," Jean growled, his hands digging into your hips, pulling your ass apart. He watched part of his long and girthy shaft reappear and disappear from inside of you. "Let up, bro."

"Fuck no," Reiner breathed out, his eyes fluttering as he sighed, followed by more praise. Jean tugged you closer to him, against Reiner's needy and robust grip, pressing on your back, fixing your arch. To him, it wasn't deep enough; your ass needs to be higher. "Keep that arch, dammit."

You body lunges back and forth as they fuck into you simultaneously. You knees weaken as the realization sets in. To them, you were a rag doll, something they could use because you’d never stop them. You enjoyed it too much.

You cried out as Jean's large and heavy hand landed on your ass with a loud smack. His hands moved from your hips to your stomach; he slammed into the rest of the way and withdrew, leaving you feeling empty. Delicious pain shot through you as he pushed up back inside you.

The wetness of your mouth and your screams sending vibration down his dick, Reiner's hips to stall as he began to shake. To know that you even had this power over him caused you to clench around Jean.

Reiner moved his hands back to your head, tightening his grip in your now tangled hair. His dick hit the back of your throat as he forcefully pushed you closer to Jean, who thrust relentlessly, his head tossed make in pleasure. Reiner emptied himself down your throat, holding you in place as he forced you to take his load. "Swallow it all, beautiful." which you had no choice but to oblige; thankfully, he tasted pretty good. Sweeter than salty.

He moved a hand to your jaw, rubbing it softly as you breathed out heavily as he pulled out of your mouth with an audible pop. "Open up," he omitted quietly, tapping your chin. He wiped the wetness of tears from your eyes as you looked up at him through wet lashes, fighting moans as Jean also got sloppy with his thrusts.

Opening your mouth, Reiner looked inside and smiled constantly. "Good job, you did so well." though he was on his knees, he leaned down to kiss you right as your much-awaited orgasm shot through you as Jean's dick rubbed against you g spot, his thumb playing with your sensitive clit, the warm pit in your stomach boiling over as you spilled out onto Jean's pulsating length.

You pulled away from Reiner and cried out as Jean pulled you close to him, pinning your hands behind your back as he fucked you through your orgasm, laying you against the cold tiles that cut through your warmth. He laid on top of your shaking figure; he laid perfectly on your arch, putting all his weight on you to hold you down. Pulling out of you, Jean came on your ass, using a hand to smear it all over you. You noticed that Bertholdt finally turned around, a concerned look on his face as he held a rag, sitting in a chair.

Finally letting you go, Jean stood up smiling as he watched you lay on the ground. Walking around you, he stands at your hand. Watching your chest heave up and down made satisfaction shoot through him. "Told you that you'd like it." Jean laughed at your dazed expression, glazed over eyes and a tired and euphoric smile on your face.

Before Jean could get into aftercare, Bertholdt swooped you up as you cried out. You were sensitive, and they were pretty rough. "Aftercare is essential. Let's clean you up, baby." Bertholdt held you close, smiling softly as you looked at him through teary eyes.

He sat back in the chair, using the damp rag to wipe away the spit that covered your face, along with the nut on your ass, and also your folds, while he told you how perfect you had been, how sexy it was to watch his friends use you while your face was in his shirt. "Can you do me a favour?"

Looking up, you nodded your head, listening to whatever Bertholdt is about to say. You would speak, but you were still coming down from your high.

"Let me taste you." Passion burns in his eyes as Bertholdt licks his lips. You couldn't say no, not to that face. You hear the other boys laugh and tease the both of you.

You hide your face in his shirt as he wraps his around you, "you don't have to, but I'd like it." he muttered so only you could hear. He was giving you an out; if today had been too much, then Bertholdt hoped to do it someday along the line.

" I want to," you say hoarsely, your throat still ached from Reiner. "Let's lay by the shower," Bertholdt instructed as he covered your named body to one of the showerheads. He positioned you so that the water would hit your upper stomach. Turning it on to the lowest setting, water gently spurts out of the faucet, spraying a warm mist over your body that ached from being slutted out by Jean and Reiner. Who knew the pairing made for a devilish dicking down.

Bertholdt brought you back to his attention as he lifted your legs over his shoulders. He scooted close enough to smell your desire. He teased your clit with a light brush of his fingers. You cry out, the feeling of want to build deeply inside you.

"Such a tease," you muttered, bucking your hand against his skimming hand. Laughing lightly at you, Bertholdt teases your clit a few times before he sucked on it. Your thigh squeeze, involuntarily but Bertholdt opened your legs up. His tongue danced around your clit, rolling it between his lips as you began to moan out, your hands resting on his head, tingling as water lightly drizzles upon your arm. Bertholt put his arms around you, massaging your tummy in his hand while his tongue rubbed your clit. He sucked on every part of your pussy, that he could.

As he began to fuck you with his tongue, he dropped a hand down to run a tight circle with his thumb on your clit. Convulsing, you bucked your hips to match the flow of his tongue, working for your orgasm. Your breath began laboured as you met eyes with the other guys.

“Such a good girl, look at the way your grinding into Bert’s face,” Marco praised as you began to hump their friend’s face while he worshiped you with his tongue.

"You look adorable when you are about to cum," Reiner teased as he chuckled at your expression. You couldn't help but chew your lip with anticipation for your release.

"I can't believe you are this slutty," Jean laughed as he fucked you with his eyes.

You began to babble, at a loss for words due to their words and Bertholdt devouring you like he hadn’t ate earlier today in the mess hall

They loved to see you so vulnerable like this; it was a side not many seen since you were a seasoned soldier. But to see you mewling around through touch was enough to drive them nuts. They often all fantasized about you, they knew that they had a mutual crush on you, which they playfully argued about but it was nothing detrimental. And now, here they are, fucking you together, and jacking off to the way your face contorted and the way your body twisted, begging for more.

“Damn, if i knew, ah, that your mouth was this good, I would’ve hopped on a lot sooner.” You breathed out, hard carding through his soft brown hair.

“You taste so damn sweet,” Bertholdt muttered, his nose nudging your pulsating clit as he dipped his tongue into your core. He groaned at the way you tasted as he spread you open, licking a bold strip down your folds.

You watch the others as they pump away with their cocks in hand. Black dots cover your vision as you feel another orgasm shoot through to, Soaking Bertholdt's chin and lips as he lapped up your orgasm, his hands massaging away at your tummy.

Curses leave your lips as you rock your hip into his mouth that attempted to swallow your soul. "Ah~ Fuck!" you cried out, tears pricking in your eyes.

"It's okay, Y/N." Marco's voice echoes through you as you shook with pleasure. Reaching for him, Marco took his hand in yours, and he used the other one to brush your tears away. "You've been doing so good, now of your turn to be pleasured." he purred in your ear as he guided you through your second orgasm.

You latch onto his lips with yours, your tongue fighting to devour each other. Marco grinned at your breathy moans that he swallowed.

As your moans came to a stop, you couldn't help but lightly push Bertholdt away from your center. You were way too sensitive, and if he could have it his way then, you'd be there in that spot, all damn night.

He laughed as he laid eyes on you, you looked fucked beyond your comprehension, and your mind was still catching up. "You tasted amazing, thank you." Bertholdt pressed his lips to yours one last time to let you taste yourself.

Humming in his mouth, you hug him. You felt thankful and were in utter bliss. You've never been fucked so good before. This was your first 5-some, and you knew this was heavily frowned upon, but these four made you feel the best you have ever felt.

Reiner handed you your shorts and his undershirt so that you could get dressed. "So," he began, both of your faces glowing red and hot. "I think I speak for the guys when I say, this was fun. If you weren't satisfied, or this isn't your thing, we don't have to do it again, but we could." Reiner trailed off as the guys mutually agreed out loud. “Shit we would be more than welcome to doing this frequently.”

"It was enjoyable, a bit too enjoyable. It seems like now we are a party of 5, causing regular sex isn't going to cut it if I can be fucked with that," you laugh as you slip your clothes on. Pressing your lip to Reiner's lips and then each boy after that.

"Reiner and Jean," you call as you break away from your kiss with Bertholdt. "Next time, maybe don't fight with each other." you giggle as they awkwardly grin with knowing smiles.

"You liked it," Jean muttered as he pulled you into him, tucking you into his side as he kisses the top of your head.

"I did, now let's finish." you admitting, grabbing your things to finish cleaning before Levi makes an appearances. You ignored the shaking of your legs until you had finished. The five of you are finally at the dorms when you collapse into Marco, who carried you back.

Like you had said, it was like a guilty pleasure. You enjoyed being around beautiful men who wanted on you hand and foot. They were amazing and the sex was great too.

#attack on titan #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirschtein x reader #marco bott #marco bodt #marco bodt x reader #reiner braun smut #shingeki no kyojin #imagines #smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #bertholdt x reader #jean brainrot #reiner brainrot

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chiwhorei · 4 years ago

Text

team spirit

pairing: k. sakusa x fem!reader x a. miya

genre: college!au, smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: 2.6k

warnings: threesome, semi-public sex, daddy kink, spitting, a spank, a tiny bit of choking, tit-fucking, degradation, a little coercion, curruption, gaslighting, voyeurism, a subtle age gap (freshman vs. senior in college), cum play, cum eating. nothing too crazy and everything is consensual- it’s just pretty dirty lmao

a/n: in a radical act of self care i have given up on kinktober as it was killing all love that i had for writing. i present to you a piece written solely because it made me h-word. thank you to the love of my life @hqbbg for beta reading, you have my soul and share my desire to be mask-man’s little bitch.

hymn: smells like teen spirit by: nirvana

“Didn’t I tell ya’, princess?” Atsumu’s voice is low and sharp against the shell of your ear as he brushes away a rogue strand of hair from where it fell from your high-pony. The action gentle, the tone unmistakingly galled. “I told ya to behave, but ya’ never want to listen to me.”

The grip he has on you is bruising, fingers nestled on your hips, large hands scrunching your pleated cheer skirt and exposing you to the almost empty locker room. Your boyfriend’s hard-on is distinct against his shorts, pressing against your bare cunt. Your hips buck desperately in his hold, but any fight is useless. There’s no way Atsumu will give you more than just minimal friction; only enough to make you dizzy and malleable in his capture.

Atsumu isn’t oblivious. He’s fully aware of how sweet you look every week, cheering on the sidelines of his games, donning his jersey number in a heart on the apple of your cheek. Having the prettiest little member of your college’s cheer squad in his bed every night never fails to fill him with an almost evil pride. Ever since the beginning of the season, your first year in college, Atsumu has been on you. The moment he first saw you, skin sheened with a layer of sweat and workout shorts riding up high enough to see the angelic curve of your ass cheeks, you were his. He totes a fine line, dancing between cockiness at his prize girlfriend when you’re hit on or ogled, and egregious rage.

Game-night started the same as any other: Astumu sneaking away before warm-ups to kabedon you against the wall when you walked out of the girls locker room. You always flush red-hot, no matter how many times he traps you, fiddling with the pom-poms in your hold. He grabs them from you, tossing them without care onto the ground to pull you tightly against his hard chest, your wrist pinned against the front of your uniform top in one of his hands. The rest of your squad walks by the two of you without much thought; the scene unfolding is rehearsed at this point. It seems like the whole student-body ignores the two of you.

“You act more like a horny teenager than a senior in college, Atsumu.” You puff your cheeks out and glare at him from the fringe of your perfectly curled eyelashes. The fake-blond towering above you snorts at your defiance.

“Well, you act more like an old prude than a freshman in college, princess.” His lips dip lower to fan over yours, “And my name ain’t Atsumu.”

Your knees feel weak trapped in his grip, his presence a strange mix of comfort and distress. You’re welcomed home into the den of a lion. You gulp down a painful air bubble trapped in your throat and mumble an apology.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

It seems to please the arrogant setter, earning you a chirpy laugh as he twirls a piece of your hair in his finger. You hate when Atsumu seems upset with you, so relief washes over you at the light gesture. He releases his hold on your wrists and pulls you into a sloppy kiss. You melt into the feeling of his lips, his hands rubbing up and down your arms lazily, causing your body to slack against him. Atsumu’s attention always renders you compliant (often against better judgement).

“I’ve gotta go, but make sure I hear ya’ cheering out there for me, sweetheart,” he says after letting go of your lips with one last nip. So begins the quick restoration of your uniform from where it was misplaced by setter fingers. After you’ve collected yourself under the watchful eye of your senior, you bend at the waist to pick up the stray poms and feel the swift union of Atsumu’s hand against your ass. You scoff at his childishness, even though you had expected it. Game nights are always the same.

The same round of cat and mouse, the same suffocating sexual tension and embarrassing public display.

The only anomaly tonight is the lecherous stare of your boyfriend's teammate on your folded body. A stare that shouldn’t belong to the curly haired man fixes onto you and the view of your tight pair of spandex has turned him into stone.

Pride is a cardinal sin, and so is lust.

“Do ya’ like what ya’ see, Omi? She’s a pretty little thing ain’t she?” Your eyes snap up to meet the gaze of the man in front of your disheveled form. Sakusa’s eyes are dark and cold; his expression reads indifference, but the hard cock in his shorts is clearly seen. He’s frozen in place a few feet in front of the bench you’re displayed on. Your crisp white sneakers are on either side of Atsumu’s built thighs, knees bent and held in place by the man under you. Your uniform top and bra have been pushed up unceremoniously, freeing your tits to bounce slightly with every squirm. Sakusa watches every jiggle of soft, supple skin in front of him. The tent in his boxers is becoming painful with every heave. Both hands are pressed stiffly to his sides, left hand clutching your white, cotton panties. The fabric is damp, sticking slightly against his fingers and making him cringe. Disgusting.

Atsumu’s hand wanders down to spread the puffy lips of your pussy, long middle finger proading against your tight hole. Atsumu growls at the feeling of your arousal, not wasting any time sticking a digit into you with practiced movements. You whimper at the intrusion, legs feeling weak and shaky from their strained position as Atsumu adds a second finger with ease. He always knows exactly how to work you over, rendering you at a loss for words with his prodding against the spongy anterior of your pussy.

“Y/n is always such a little mess on her daddy’s fingers.” His middle and pointer finger are pulled out with a resounding pop and his palm lands a harsh pat against your clit. “Do you like putting on a show for Sakusa-san? He seems to fancy ya’, doesn't he?” You’re asked a question but can only yelp in response as Atsumu’s fingers are shoved back into you, pumping with fervor.

The tall man in front of you is only partially familiar; aside from volleyball games and visiting your boyfriend at practice, you’ve only seen Sakusa at the occasional party or team dinner. He’s never seemed too keen on getting to know you before, but now he’s palming himself at the sight of your most intimate angles completely open for his viewing pleasure. Sakusa’s slightly flushed cheeks and boring stare causes your cunt to clench around Atsumu’s fingers. Ever the painfully observant man, neither the tightening muscles nor the reason behind it is lost on the blond.

“Ya’ like being watched, that’s why yer sloppy pussy’s extra wet tonight, huh?” You shake your head frantically, not wanting to admit that the heat rising in your stomach is due to your voyeur’s deep brown eyes. Atsumu is a prideful man, some would say too much so, a fact he’ll have to atone for later. One thing he isn’t? Greedy.

“Omi-omi~” The singing of the stupid nickname seems to snap Sakusa out of his stupor as he flicks his eyes to meet Atsumu’s. “Don’t be shy, c’mere.” Sakusa is still working long strokes over his confined cock, stepping forward to further invade your personal space. Atsumu’s chin rests against your shoulder, face amused and casual, disconnected from what his hands are holding.

All you can do is look up at the looming figure, black hair falling in front of his face and mouth set in a harsh line. You’re eye level with the bulge in his shorts now, so close you can almost feel the fabric against your lips. Every sense is overwhelmed, crowded in the abandoned locker room with your boyfriend working you open in front of his teammate. Sakusa reaches out and runs his finger over the uniform top that sits wrinkled up above your breasts. His calloused pad runs over the article in a moment of contemplation, before pinching your hardened nipple. A surprised yelp falls from your lips along with the already tumbling whines.

Distracted by your new company, Atsumu’s cock releasing from his shorts goes unnoticed. With the dark, inky stare keeping you hostage, you only realize his fingers are being replaced when the hardened tip is pressing into you. A pathetic squeal rips through your throat at the breach. No matter how many times Atsumu stretches you out on his fat cock, it burns every time.

“I think ya’ should help Sakusa-san out, princess.” Another few inches disappear, your shaky balance is corrected with one of Atsumu’s hands wrapping around your neck, “Since it’s yer dirty little body that’s got ‘em all hard.”

The intonation wracks you with guilt, looking up at Sakusa with bleary, begging eyes. You’re not sure what exactly you’re begging for.

There’s no restraint left in Sakusa, having used most of it up when your panties were ripped off and tossed to him with a cheeky wink from his setter. He shoves said garment into his pocket before pushing his shorts and boxers down enough for his cock to spring free. Your eyes roll slightly at the sight in front of you, impressive in length and pleasantly veiny. Right under his head, you see two freckles, noting they almost mimic the ones right above his eyebrow.

Atsumu’s cock is snugly inside you, buried to the hilt, and you're pulled back into his broad chest by the grip on your throat. Sakusa holds himself at the base, stroking upwards and swirling his thumb against the precum collecting at his tip. He leans over you, slapping his head against your tits experimentally. The reaction Sakusa gets seems to be the one he was seeking, as your whispered cries thump to the same beat of his length against your skin.

“Such a nasty girl. You always look so sweet and innocent cheering for us. Does he fuck you like this after every game?” Sakusa has found his voice, regarding you coolly. Tears prick at your eyes, any retort caught behind your teeth as you stare back dumbly.

“Answer ‘em princess,” Atsumu lifts you up slightly to slam you back down onto his heavy cock; the sound is squelching in the stale air around you, “tell ‘em how you cream on Daddy’s cock after everyone leaves.”

“I- please, I-” You’re cut off by your own mewl when a string of saliva breaches Sakusa’s lips and falls towards your chest, watching as it ascends onto the valley between your tits. As it rolls down your sweat-sheened skin, the black-haired man rubs his weeping cock down the map his spit makes. Your brain is fuzzy at the attention of both men, warming your boyfriend's cock as his teammate grinds himself on your naked chest.

Sakusa grabs your wrists, causing your thighs to wobble weakly from their squatted position, and presses your palms to hold your breasts against his shaft. The pressure has Sakusa’s head falling back as soft, warm skin welcoming his shallow thrusts.

“Such a complaint little pet you have, Miya.” His hand brushes against your cheek and trails downwards to find purchase on your chin. “Dirty little girl,” his voice coos you, “Open wide.”

Your mouth falls at his order, fussing weakly at the nickname. Another sharp putt meets your ears and his warm spit hits the fattest plane of your tongue. Tears escape at the sides of your eyes with the overwhelming presence. Atsumu begins a slow assault on your aching pussy, removing the hand on your throat to pull your hips against his lap. The rhythm is a salacious duet with the cock nestled between your tits and has you clenching even tighter.

“Ya’ better not swallow Omi’s spit until I say so, princess. Keep that wicked tongue out for him to paint.” You do as you're told, as always, tongue lolled out with a pant. At your passivity, Atsumu rewards you with tight circles to your throbbing clit. His cheek presses against your own, peering over to watch his friend’s cock against your chest with wonder. Such a distinct beauty is found in the ruined body on top of him. As much as Atsumu appreciates the sweet, loving moments that he shares with you, the sight of your precious body bent to his will makes his dick twitch acutely. It’s sick how much he enjoys seeing how far he can push you-

“I’m going to cum on your girlfriend's sweet face, Miya. Christ, it’s disgusting how much she seems to want it.”

However, your enjoyment in your own depravity and humiliation is much more sickening.

Atsumu’s pace picks up, skin slapping against your sore pussy with new resolve. He wants to see you break into pieces right on the locker room bench. Your vision is spotting at the pressure on your clit, mixing with the dulled sting of being split open on the blond setter's thick cock. All you can do is produce a garbled squeal from around your dangling tongue. Sakusa pulls his cock from your chest, pumping his hand feverishly against the soft skin. The sight is almost unbelievable: a man who barely allows his teammates a high-five has your hair wrapped around his other fist. Your head is yanked back, eyes entrapped by Sakusa’s. Atsumu’s fingers are unrelenting against the bundle of nerves that now feels more like a ticking time-bomb.

“C’mon princess, don’t hold back on us. I wanna see ya’ cum right in front of Omi. Show’em how much team spirit ya’ got.” Atsumu’s teeth bite down onto your neck, angling his tip to press against that deepest spot inside of you. The fraying cord in your stomach is pulled taught, snapping at the feeling of Sakusa’s hot cum against your face, thick spurts landing on your cheer uniform and splattering against your already marred tongue.

Your own orgasm tears through you, burning deeply through every vein in your body. It’s sinful how your body reacts to the messy splotching of a stranger's cum against you, thrown head-first into release at the ministrations of the men on either side of you. Your tight rings of muscles pulsate around Atsumu’s cock, coaxing his own orgasm out to meet your silky insides. There’s nothing better in the world, Atsumu thinks to himself, than fucking his hot cum into your sweet, submissive body.

As the pair of volleyball players steady their own breathing, another menacing laugh escapes your boyfriend’s mouth. He peers over the mess in front of him, strings of cum drawing random patterns against your chest and cheeks. He turns your face towards him and smiles, finding that you did exactly as he asked. Your mouth wide, tongue still stuck out and awaiting further instruction. Such a perfect girl you are, letting Atsumu’s most debased fantasies play out on your innocent little body. Your job is to motivate his team after all, and there’s no better way to boost comradery after a win than to celebrate the best way he knows how.

“Team spirit, huh?” Sakusa tucks himself back into his shorts, leaning in to swipe his cum against your lips as a parting gift. You watch him with glassy eyes and suck on the digit when pressed against your tongue.

“That’s for sure.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#sakusa x reader #atsumu x reader #sakusa smut #atsumu smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #atsumu miya #sakusa kiyoomi #sakuatsu #tw: coercion #tw: corruption #tw: gaslighting

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hyungieyoongi · 4 years ago

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Epilogue: “Run Away to You” Part 7

To the person who never stopped supporting and loving me, even when I ran away from him – I promise from now on to always run away to you.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Genre: Angst (if you squint) + Fluff (nobody look at me I’m so soft)

Warning: Brief mention of reader’s panic attacks and mental health

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

Part 6 \\

---

One year later...

You stood in the wings to the right of the stage, watching Yoongi stand side-by-side with his fellow members as they took their final bow. The love and energy from ARMY was overwhelming, your heart swelling with pride as you saw the look of pure happiness radiating from Yoongi and the rest of the boys.

BTS had held a series of surprise concerts in the past couple of months, and tonight was the last one in Seoul. Yoongi had made sure you attended each one with him, no matter where it was in the world. He told you he had always wanted to travel with you.

You looked out into the stadium, ARMY bombs lighting up the seats, illuminating the arena with a wash of purple light. You smiled, tears coming to your eyes at the beauty of it all.

As you took in the sight, you couldn’t help but reminisce on the past few months with Yoongi and everything you both went through to get to this moment.

You had been honest with the world in your video, explaining that you had to step away from your career for your mental health. You opened up about dealing with panic attacks and the toxic pressure of the acting industry. You explained how you needed to get your creativity and passion back for new projects by disappearing for a little while. There were so many people who had sent you messages of love and support, welcoming you back with positivity and warmth.

But the other side was picking you apart relentlessly. They accused you of trying to use Yoongi to get back into the spotlight now that you had gotten tired of living the “normal” life. They were saying that the pictures of you and Yoongi were all a ploy to get attention to restart your acting career.

If only they knew how much trouble those pictures had caused you.

You remember how you found it ironic how much the first few weeks of your life back in the public eye were so like your life when you first went into hiding. Moving into a new apartment, donning baseball hats and masks whenever you stepped outside, the threat of unwanted and uncontrolled publicity controlling your every move.

You had to have security with you, especially in the early days. The press wanted to get the scoop on your disappearance and your time with Yoongi, often flanking you with cameras if you popped out to get a coffee or go to the store.

Yoongi’s label put out an official statement to explain away the potential romantic implications of the picture, saying that the two of you knew each other from your time in the business and you were “old friends.” They cautioned the two of you to avoid being seen alone together in public, but Yoongi put his foot down, telling the label that you were not going to be hidden away forever.

Your publishing company was thrilled to hear that you no longer wanted to publish your book under a pseudonym; your name recognition was guaranteed to start a buzz around your upcoming release. Yoongi would often try to peak over your shoulder when you were working together, trying to read what you were writing. You would tease him, telling him he had to wait to read it just like everyone else.

Not to mention you were a little nervous to tell him that the story that you were writing was not-so-loosely inspired by your own relationship with him.

Navigating the public world again was made better by having Yoongi there with you, albeit privately at first. You would often have dinner with the boys or go watch Yoongi rehearse when you weren’t in editorial meetings or writing your book.

Being in love with him again had been the easy part.

The harder part was the conversations late at night about when and how you wanted to go public. You both were trying to balance the needs of his job as an idol with your timidness over putting too much of yourself back out there too soon. You were attempting to show the world your genuine personality this time around. There was no production company to impress or an acting job that was dependent on your popularity; you were just hopeful that his fans would be more receptive to your relationship if they already felt like they knew the real you. You never wanted to go back to feeling like you were suffocating under the weight of the pressure.

You decided as a couple on a deadline – six months. After six months of dating privately, you had to decide whether you wanted to be together publicly.

Yoongi came to your apartment six months later, looking pale with nerves and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. You hadn’t spoken over the past two days, wanting to give each other the space to decide what was best on your own.

You told him you had already made your choice the night when you went to dinner with him and the boys at his apartment – you weren’t about to change your mind. He carelessly dropped the flowers on the ground, sweeping you up into his arms.

You both knew that you would face backlash, maybe even some hate, but you were stronger together than apart. He was it for you, and you weren’t going to let him go just like he promised you he wouldn’t. It hadn’t been easy, but it certainly was worth it.

You turned your head to watch as the boys waved goodbye, exiting stage right and stage left. Yoongi walked toward the side of the stage with purpose, eyes alight with adrenaline. You smiled brightly at him, his arms coming around you as he practically collided with you, head landing between your shoulder and neck as he breathed out heavily. Your hands instinctively went to his head, running your hands through his slightly sweaty locks as his heart rate came down from the high of the concert.

“You were amazing, Yoongs,” you told him. He leaned back, placing a firm kiss on your lips, surprising you. When he pulled back you were greeted with a gummy smile. Staff started to flutter around you, dabbing Yoongi with a towel and handing him an open bottle of water. You stepped away to let them through, not wanting to interfere with their jobs. Before you could move too far away, his hand reached through the bodies surrounding him, searching for your own. You wrapped your fingers around his, Yoongi using the grip to pull you back to be closer to him.

The staff adjusted to your presence again, shuffling you both along toward his dressing room. Intertwining your fingers with his, he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of your knuckles. You thought you saw Jin amidst the flurry of activity, hearing a distinctive laugh that you were pretty positive was directed toward the blatant show of public affection between yourself and Yoongi since he got off the stage.

With how lucky you felt in that moment, you couldn’t seem to find it in yourself to care.

---

“Remember, I warned you that you might not like the book. I was dealing with a lot when I started writing it, and I promise I changed the characters enough. Only you or I will even notice the similarities. I mean, the characters get a happy ending and so did we, but…” you were rambling, your newly printed hard copy gripped firmly in your hands.

A week after his final surprise concert wrapped, you had come over to Yoongi’s apartment to gift him the copy of your book you had promised him, but you were reluctant to actually let it go. Yoongi was trying – and failing – to get it from you, leaning back with an exasperated sigh when he realized you weren’t going to budge.

“We have been dating for over a year now, Y/N, I think I can handle the fictional book version of our relationship,” Yoongi said, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“But it might bring up old memories. Bad memories,” you said quietly, averting your eyes. Yoongi propped your chin up with his index finger forcing you to look at him.

“Stop worrying so much. Our past is the reason why we are together now. I’m not scared of it anymore,” Yoongi admitted with a nonchalant shrug. Your cheeks burned, Yoongi chuckling at your pink face before kissing you sweetly. Even after all this time, you still became flustered at his romantic gestures.

You finally handed the book over.

“You should probably check the dedication page first,” you murmured, slightly embarrassed. Yoongi’s lips quirked up in a smirk, slowly flipping to the dedication page in the copy of your book in his hands. His expression changed to something unreadable and soft as he read the words dedicated to him:

To the person who never stopped supporting and loving me, even when I ran away from him – I promise from now on to always run away to you.

I love you.

You held your breath as you watched him read the page twice, your knee jumping up and down in nervous anticipation. Yoongi put his hand on your knee, stopping your movements. He leaned forward, your book still in his other hand. You felt yourself instinctively move closer to him, seeming to melt into his warmth.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into your ear.

He would always be your happy ending.

Part 6 \\

---

To everyone who read and followed along with this fic – it has meant so much to me to have people read this little series of mine and interact with it. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Taglist: @loveyoongles @agustd-2020 @delacyrose224 @sunshinejunghoseokie @jinsearthh @alpacaparkaseok @sheebaba @diamonddia-mond @dearyoongii @tarahardcore @kawaiiixchan

Check out my other work! ❤️

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un2-verse · 4 years ago

Text

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (1)

》 News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right? 《

pairings: john kramer!taehyung x female reader

warnings: dark themes, angst, yandere, murder, torture, self harm, suicide, stalking etc.... (will add more when i know lol) although it is rather innocent in the first couple chapters(?) so idk it could be slow burn but i guess we’ll find out as i write it >< ,, it’s my version of saw if saw was a fucked up love story lol. Please don’t read if any of the topics mentioned trigger you!! 18+

this fic is exactly that, fiction!!!! the au does not represent the characters mentioned irl......

synopsis: you end up lost on the other side of town, where you cross paths with a handsome stranger, kim taehyung, only.... are you a stranger to him?

[a/n: daffodils represent; love me, sympathy, desire and affection returned...]

word count: 3k

series masterlist

part two

——————————————————————————

Hiding behind a mask was something you were accustomed to. Your friend group and family were clueless to the torment you endured from simply existing. You were confident your masking had convinced the world you were happy with yourself. Unbeknown to you, one other person saw straight through your façade.

You wanted to end your life.

He needed you to cherish your life.

Nothing looked familiar. The café you frequented was nowhere to be found. Your usual hangout was most definitely not on the side of town you found yourself in. You felt anxiety slowly curl its way around your body, you were frigid. You tried and tried but couldn’t find it in yourself to run.

You lived in the more friendly part of town (so to speak) – where houses were colourful, gardens pristine, warm-hearted neighbours who would treat you like family and white picket fences are what surrounded you. That was your norm, sure, you weren’t exactly loaded but you weren’t exactly poor either. It was a healthy balance in the middle. That’s not to say you hadn’t lived or seen this side of town before.

Your Mother and Father had grown up on this side of the fence. Two young people brought up in the rougher, more unfortunate areas. Your Mother was tough; she looked like a naïve, weak girl, albeit that was not the case. She was strong willed, used to life on the streets and doing anything she could to get money to make sure there was at least some food on the table. While your Mum was the leader, your Dad was more of a sheep. He was easily influenced and was dragged into the wrong crowd (had his fair share with drugs and street racing). That was their life for a few years till they crossed paths and your Mum helped your Dad get back on the right track.

They didn’t tell you much about their childhood and adolescence but they told you enough to make you appreciate what you have and to always work hard for it. To stick with the right people, be wise and conscious of your decisions. Be kind to those around you.

Your family owned a garage; your Dad was the head mechanic. This was the sole reason you were here. You knew it wouldn’t be simple when you agreed to go to this side of town to get a few bits for your Father’s shop. However, you didn’t expect it to be this difficult. How could you be so stupid? Why didn’t you just ask Hoseok and Yoongi to come with you like your father told you to? Or at least tell them where you were… yet you decided today of all days to be stubborn and venture on yourself, knowing full well how unsafe the area was. There were rundown businesses on either side of the road, beggars at every doorstep; drug dealings happening in broad daylight, no one even trying to hide it.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you took it out and sighed a breath of relief once you’d read the texts.

14:37— From Papa: U ok munchkin ??? Did u get the stuff ?

14:39— From Papa: its ok if u didnt. Yoongs rang said hes got majority this morning lol so be safe n get home soon . Love u

14:40— To Papa: ohhh ok pops, i couldn’t find the shop anyway lol i’ll head back soon, love u too x

*LOW BATTERY*

“Fuck, trust me to forget to charge the bastard.” You rolled your eyes as you stuffed the phone back in your pocket.

Muffled shouting was heard around you. People ran across the street, bumping into you as they ran past. You gathered yourself and moved further down the path. “Great!” you exasperated, “honestly I’m so fucking stupid! Yoongi’s gonna kill me for this, I knew, I knew I should’ve told him I was coming over here but no,” your head was hung low as you dragged your feet across the pavement, “maybe I could tell Hobi, he wouldn’t be as angry right? I’m sure he’ll come,“ A sudden scream ripped you out of your chuntering. You whipped your head to the right, you could make out some figures bustling about in front of you, a group of men were quite clearly fighting… your anxiety struck you and you held your breath as you saw a man pull a knife from the waistband of his sweatpants. All thoughts and common sense seemed to leave all at once. Statue like, feet stuck to the ground. You watched on as the group rushed towards the brown haired man, you scanned his figure: tall, broad, confident… he exuded an intimidating aura even when you were this far away from him.

How could someone be so sure of themselves? It was one against five, surely the loner had no chance?

The glistening of the knife brought you back to your senses. Fucking hell. How do you always end up in these situations when you’re alone? Why me? Why? Good Lord, I need to run. Just as you were about to leave, the group who were arguing charged past you; one gripped his side as another supported his weight. Holy fuck, did he stab him? you stood frozen, yet again, your mind raced a mile a minute. Panic bubbled in your chest.

“You okay there Doll?” His voice was deep, velvet-like. It flowed so smoothly you doubted it was real, it was so soothing like it had wrapped itself around you, embracing your body. You heard his footsteps before he planted himself beside you. His shoulder reached the top of your head, his hand brushed yours. Swallowing your nerves you dared a glance up. He was fucking breath-taking, like a fallen angel. The stranger shot you a small smile that you would’ve easily missed had you not been staring at his features… a blush crept up your neck as you nodded. His smile slowly twisted into a smirk.

Cute, Taehyung thought to himself. Couldn’t help but adore the way you slightly trembled under his gaze, the way your hands gripped and twisted your sweater paws. Almost like a puppy. He cleared his throat and reached his hand to yours, “Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Taehyung.” you took his hand into yours, apprehensively you greeted him, “I’m Y/N.”

“Ah, Y/N. I haven’t seen you round here before, you new or something?” Taehyung cocked his head to the side, his eyes seemed to stare right through you.

“Uhm, I don’t live here. I live over the other part of Town… I was just grabbing some stuff for my Dad but, my phones about to die. I have no idea where I am or how to get home, I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t see anything!” a deep chuckle cut you off, Taehyung smiled and beckoned you to follow him.

“Come on Y/N, you’re not suited for this side of Town, I’ll walk you back. A pretty little thing like you, you’re easy prey to these guys.” your feet fell into a cautious pace behind him, he glanced over his shoulder, “hurry up Buttercup, I don’t bite.” Taehyung flashed a boxy grin in your direction, which caused you to speed up ever so slightly.

You were unsure how you felt about letting a complete stranger walk you home, Yoongi would definitely kill you for this. Especially with the recent news of some serial killer named ‘Jigsaw’, Yoongi and Hoseok had been very stern and their usual, overprotective selves when the news had broken out. “It’s on every headline Y/Nie! No more leaving the house on yourself, you need to go anywhere you ring either of us. Got it? Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know either. There’s some dodgy fucks about recently.” Although, you loved them dearly, sometimes their protectiveness was a...little overbearing. You already felt suffocated from your parents (you didn’t need it from your best friends as well). They were happy and believed you to be too; but that was exhausting, faking happiness. You had a constant façade, acted like a happy normal teenager with a happy family; when that was far from the truth.

Drowning. That’s how you’d explain the way you felt. Breathing was difficult and brought you more pain than it was worth. Growing up was tedious, you had grown differently to your peers which only brought ridicule and embarrassment for you. You had struggled with your speech (sometimes you still do), you often stuttered, mispronounced words, the list was endless. That was one of the first reasons you were a castaway. As you grew, the ridicule worsened. Verbal abuse turned physical from your classmates. They made you feel like you were a waste of space. The names they called you, you soon started to believe them. Ugly. Weird. Freak. Stupid. They took root in your brain, slowly they grew and grew till your head was overgrown with twisted, rotten weeds.

Eventually, you sought comfort in blood. You didn’t care that it hurt you; you were almost happy to feel pain. Like you deserved to.

By age 14, you had started to skip school. Only ever there for exams and a couple of art classes you had with Jeongguk. He was what you would’ve called a best friend, he supported you and was by your side till you left school. He went away to college and like always with school friends, you drifted apart. Nevertheless, he still texts you now and then to check in.

Although you were (once) close with Jeongguk. He never knew of your inner demons, the same with Yoongi and Hoseok. You didn’t want to feel like a burden and worry your friends when they had shit to worry about themselves.

Why devastate flowers that flourish beautifully with weeds that manage to twist their way around every crack?

You had walked for a few minutes now, having chatted absentmindedly about anything and everything. The roads still didn’t look familiar to you and you just wished they did, you didn’t want to be away from your home any longer, your feet were starting to ache, your phone was on 10% battery and it was fucking cold. You just wanted to be back in bed tucked up watching Lady and the Tramp or 101 Dalmatians for the millionth time. You felt safe and content when you indulged in your comfort films. Far away from the real world and wrapped up in the false reality. They easily distracted you and that's when you truly felt at peace. Your mind was always too busy thinking about how cute it was when Tramp calls Lady, Pidge or how in love Pongo and Perdy were.

Majority of the time you fantasised about having a love similar, but then again, why would you wanna make yourself vulnerable like that? Is the risk of being hurt (more than you are now) any good? Of course it’s not. Fuck that, life isn’t nothing like those shitty romance films or novels… It’s real and painful.

As you and Taehyung rounded the corner, a little cafe caught your eye, a dainty blue and pink building. Fairy Lights strung up around the windows, you could see a handful of people inside, busy sipping their drinks and chatting away to one another. ‘Aroma Mocha’ hung above the doors. It looked so cute and simple. Your previous thoughts left your mind as quick as they had come. You wanted to go inside, it had an enticing atmosphere.

Taehyung hadn’t realised you’d stopped walking until he couldn’t hear the soft thud of your footsteps behind him, he turned as he called out to you, your eyes still fixed on the cafe. He chuckled to himself, “Fucking adorable, like a kid at christmas,” he walked back over to you. “Hey Doll, you wanna go in?” He felt his heart quicken when you looked at him with those pretty eyes, “We’ve plenty of time to get you back before it’s dark angel.” You answered him with a nod as you turned your head from Taehyung to look back at the alluring little cafe.

Not a second had passed before Taehyung grabbed your hand and pulled you across the road to the entrance; you ignored the warmth of his hand as it intertwined with yours; you ignored the way your tummy erupted with butterflies. Taehyung had stopped to hold the door for you, you murmured a small, “thank you,” looking up at him, the heat that crept up your cheeks making your face resemble that of a doll’s he thought to himself. Once he ushered you fully inside, he placed his hand to rest on the curve of your waist as he guided you to the back corner of the room, where a quaint table for two was unoccupied, a little pot of Daffodils sat atop. How fitting...

Taehyung was quick to pull the chair out for you to take a seat, you pulled it in as you sat down and sent a shy smile his way, “I’m sorry, I know we just met Taehyung but this place is so fucking precious! I hope I’m not bothering you, if I am we can just carry on walking or, I could ring a Taxi? Is this weird? Oh god, I can’t believe--”, Taehyung threw his head back as he laughed, a sound that seemed to wrap its way around your soul, twisting around your heart in the nicest of ways, it was almost like a killer to the weeds taking over your body. A temporary release. You felt like you could really breathe in those short seconds of his laughter.

“Angel, if you were bothering me, I’d have kept on walking. That, or I would’ve called you a Taxi myself, it’s no problem honestly.” You ducked your head as he sent a wink your way, fuck sake Y/N get it together! Why are you acting like a fucking schoolgirl?

“Well I uh, appreciate it so, yeah thank you?” You don’t know what to do, you’re here with the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid your eyes on… yet you have no clue if what you saw was real, did Taehyung stab someone? Could someone have had the knife who wasn’t Taehyung? Was he even the person you saw in that altercation? Did you imagine everything that had gone off?

Before you had chance to overthink it, a light bubbly voice greeted your ears, “Hi! Welcome to Aroma Mocha, I’m Jimin and I’ll be your server today. Is there anything I can get you?” Jimin held his gaze on you as he flashed you a friendly smile, Taehyung turned around at the sound of his best friend, “Oh, Tae! I wasn’t expecting to see you today, what are you doing here? And who’s this pretty little lady?”

“This is Y/Nie, she was in the neighbourhood so we thought we’d nip in for something to drink before I take her back to hers.” you sent a warm smile to Jimin which he gladly returned, “I’ll have my usual and can you get Y/Nie a Strawberry Iced Tea? Thanks man.”

Once Jimin had disappeared to make your drinks, you shot your eyes to Taehyung, “Uhm, how’d you know I like Strawberry Iced Tea?” Taehyung didn’t even look in your direction as he scrolled through his phone, eyes glued to the screen. A minute passed by and he’d still not acknowledged your question so you let it slide, it wasn’t that big of a deal right? Your mind drifted. Your fingers rested atop of your lap, hidden from the sight of onlookers, picking around your nails as anxiety flooded your body. You felt like you were about to suffocate. You shouldn’t be talking to anyone, you shouldn’t let anyone close. You were only going to fuck everything up in a heartbeat. It’s only natural. Self deprecating thoughts devoured and made their way through your veins, poisoning yourself further; your whole body felt as though it was alight.

Jimin brought you your drinks, placed them carefully in front of the pair of you as you both said your thanks.

The click of Taehyung’s phone being locked and the clearing of his throat brought you back to your senses. “The drink I ordered for you is popular here so, I assumed you’d like to try it. You wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” your eyes shot up to meet his, your head tilted a little to the left as your tongue wet your lip, so puppy like...

You stared incredulously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Taehyung.” You leant forward slightly as you wrapped your lips around the straw and took a sip.

Taehyung saw the way you sucked your drink up through your straw, his eyes darkened. Thankful to have worn sweatpants that day, he shifted himself discreetly, “I’m not stupid Angel, I know what you’re doing under the table. I’m here, so talk to me. I’ll listen to whatever you gotta say.”

You stuttered as you wracked your brain for something to say, “I-I only met you like forty minutes ago, I don’t even tell my friends what’s wrong. Not that there is, everything’s fine.”

You met me just short of an hour ago, he thought to himself, “You don’t have to lie to me Y/Nie…” he grabbed your hands that were laid near the cup of your Iced Tea. His thumb rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. You looked small and fragile, like the Daffodils on the table; one little pluck and you’d be ruined. He wouldn’t admit it to you just yet but, Taehyung fucking loved how delicate you seemed as you sat across from him.

How easy it would be to take your life away. How easy it’d be to pull those weeds up that are poisoning you, torturing you every single day. He shook his head, as he cleared those thoughts. No, only Y/N can make that decision. I’m just going to help her choose.

Live or Die.

You visibly winced, “You don’t know me. Think whatever the fuck you want about me, it doesn’t matter.” your eyes flashed hurt as you went back to picking your skin. You knew it, this whole encounter was too good to be true. A complete stranger (well acquaintance technically) had just presumed shit about you, the fact he was right is what hurt more. You didn’t want anyone to know how you were feeling. Or how you were dealing with it.

You couldn’t exactly tell him to piss off, you still needed his help home and so you tried to distract yourself from the unsettling gaze that watched your every move. You let out a breath as Taehyung went back to his phone. Your eyes drifted as you picked up the local Newspaper, your eyes skimmed over the headline, ‘Jigsaw Traps Continue’. Taehyung noticed you staring at the front page, and chuckled, “you scared of Jigsaw Angel?”

You shook your head, why would you be scared of some nutjob who’s targeted criminals and drug dealers? You’re a nobody. “Of some psychopathic puppet?” if anyone did anything to you that would threaten your life, it would be you. Taehyung just laughed in return as you skipped the article and skim-read the other pointless stories.

You were fucking clueless as to who he was while he knew every little thing about you. He had watched you for months… His precious little Y/Nie… Oh how silly you were, taking your life for granted.

You hated yourself that much, you were willingly marking yourself up. Tainting your skin… oh your skin, how fucking beautiful and soft it looked, even with all the scars it still looked perfect… Taehyung wanted nothing more than to whisk you away and lock you inside with him. Forever. He didn’t want anyone touching what was his.

He knew you wore a mask when in public, too afraid to show your real self. Little did you know, he wore a mask himself...only he wore it to better other people.

He had a plan.

And you’d soon find out.

Let the games begin.

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aureumjeon · 5 years ago

Text

hush (m) jjk

pairing; jungkook x reader

genre; established relationship, college au.

warning; public indecency, exhibitionism, exhibition kink, tit sucking, jungkook loves your tits, fingering, degradation, pwp really.

word count; 2598

summary;

➜ when you invited your boyfriend to a study date at the library on a Friday night, studying was your only intention. Of course, Jungkook always had a knack of ruining your plans.

a/n; now that this is out of the wayy, i will now be working on my money matters prequel! i hope you look forward to that one!

"For the last time, kook," you discreetly pushed off his arm around your torso, hand comfortably purchased on your clothed breast. "I called you here to study with me, not mess around."

He only let out a small airy grunt in reply, not caring about a single word you just said. The wooden legs of the chair he was situated on dragged across the gray carpeted floor as he moved closer to you, once again sliding his arm around your body and fixating his hand back to its previous position.

"J-jungkook..." You whined as you felt his slender fingers gently knead at your mound, even with a bra on, he could sense how hard your nipple has become at his lingering touch. The words that tumbled out your mouth said no but your body language says otherwise. The blunt edges of your teeth painfully dug into the soft flesh of your bottom lip while you tried your best to suppress the needy moans wanting to escape.

"Tell me to stop." A hint of challenge lacing his tone with the slight curve of his lips. He knew how much he affected you; how his honey slicked voice crawled under your skin and shot straight to your core.

Exhibitionism wasn't on top of your list but it was on his.

Although no matter how much he wanted to do bad things to you under the prying and watchful eyes of those around you, your consent has always been and always will be his priority.

"Tell me to stop and I'll stop." jungkook was growing impatient by the second, you can tell by how hard he was squeezing at your breast.

"D-dont--" you faintly mouthed, burying your face in the curve of his neck. His musky scent overpowering your senses and doubling the wetness forming between your legs. "s-stop..."

"Fuck" he cursed under his breath, you were too fucking good for him. He temporarily released his grip on you and plotted his next move.

At this point, the only thing you could do is hope your mouth stays close like your eyes.

You felt the hem of your skirt hitch up as his right hand roamed the expanse of your quivering thighs. Just as you were about to close it shut, he jammed his hand in between them.

"I don't think so, baby." It came out as a whisper and got you squirming in your seat. He scanned the premises of the facility, the number of people inside could be counted with the fingers on his hand. It was pretty empty considering that it was a Friday night, most college students would rather hang out at a party than study in library.

In the eyes of an outsider, the two of you only looked like a normal couple. A loving boyfriend letting his exhausted girlfriend take a nap on his shoulder. How sweet.

What they don't know won't kill them and if they find out, well, it'll only rile him up more.

At the back of your mind, you thank god that you chose a spot facing the wall. If you didn't, the person sitting on the table parallel to yours would have a front row seat to your dripping pussy.

"You like that?" Jungkook's hand found its way to your clothed core, trailing the pad of his fore and middle finger over the newly moistened patch. "God, you're always so fucking wet for me, y/n."

The heat and wetness of your aroused cunt have gotten to him, a noticeable tent forming at the crotch area of his sweatpants. He quickly grasped your hand and pressed it against his growing erection.

"Shit..."

You shut your eyes even tighter and braced yourself for what was about to come next when he began pushing your underwear to the side.

A breathless whimper was all you can utter at the sensation of sudden intrusion, his middle finger shoved inside your hole down to the last knuckle.

"Always so tight, you dirty slut. Clenching around my finger like vice grips."All his words came out as a mumble, barely audible, still it sent shockwaves of electricity throughout your entire body. Nobody does it like him, only jungkook has got this much control and power over you.

"Be good a girl for me and unbutton your shirt, I want to suck on those perky nipples of yours."

Somehow your breath gets caught up in your throat, and you're suddenly gasping for air. How can his presence be so suffocating and enticing at the same time like you're drowning in a deadly sea with a lifeboat next to you but you decided you’d rather die and be enveloped by the waters.

You do as you're told, unbuttoning your blouse half way through just enough for your boobs to poke out.

"Damn," Jungkook kissed your forehead, giving you ample time to hold your head steady after leaning on him for a while.

He then laid his head cradled by his arm on the surface of the table, his face conveniently positioned in front of your chest. With his same hand, he hooked a finger under the front band of your bra and tugged it downwards. Your plump breast bounced deliciously against the force and you can see the way his pupil blew up with lust and fervor.

"Will never get tired of these." Jungkook confessed, dipping his head closer and taking in one pert nipple in his mouth. Slowly and surely, he was taking time sucking at your sensitive nub. His idle hand took note of the nipple he physically couldn't reach with his mouth and did its purpose. Pinching and tweaking.

The wet feeling of his mouth, tongue and fingers on your burning skin had you bucking your hips into his stagnant finger. Whining and yearning for any sort of friction.

"Oh," he smiled while still latched onto your nipple, "I'm sorry, I forgot." He sunk his teeth into your hardened bud; the ardent sting has got you curling your toes inside your shoes and hands gripping at the edge of your seat.

"They don't call you golden tits for nothing," he proudly boasts, not his fault that his girl was one of the hottest chicks in the entire university.

He slid another finger in you, pumping it at a leisurely pace while his hot mouth was still connected to your breast. Lapping and nipping at the bud and the skin around it, eliciting goosebumps to emerge on every square inch of your body.

"J-jungkook.."

"Yes?" He cooed, slightly tilting his head up and peppered your collarbone with kisses. Occasionally stopping and sucking at a certain spot until a purple bruise blooms.

You deduced Jungkook was certainly taking his time. His digits stroked your aching walls at an excruciatingly timid pace, thumb not even meeting your clit once. At this point getting caught was the least of your worries, the only goal you wanted to achieve was to come.

"Please, please, please..." You lowered your head and rested your burning forehead against his cheek while he continued marking your unmarred skin. "I w-want to cum,”

You almost choked on your own spit as you fought the sob crawl from your throat when he shoved his digits deeper into you, the tip of his finger caressing the rough spot inside your sex. Your back arched on the backrest of your chair and you held your head from falling back too far.

“Hmm?” his hooded gaze stared at your face inches away from his, a recognizable grimace inscribed on it. Your brows furrowed, almost meeting at the center of your face; eyes shuttered, scantily masking the ache you were feeling; cheeks flushed hot, dusted with a carmine tinge. Your lips trembled, even when set in a thin line. Jungkook knows this ‘face’ of yours all too well, he’s well aware of what he needs to do.

“Please…” this was too much, you could feel every muscle in your body tense up and knot to the point where it started to hurt. Your hands shook uncontrollably when you clutched onto Jungkook’s shoulder, nails digging into his jacket, pleading, begging.

“Jungkook…” Tears began gathering at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill if you were still denied of your craved orgasm.

“Y/n,” You opened your eyes only to see Jungkook staring intently at the distraught mess you’ve become. “Hush.” With a lecherous smirk etched on his pink lips and an amorous glint in his deep-set brown eyes.

His wrist snapped and his calloused fingers recklessly propelled into the deepest depth of your pussy. The clogs in the pit of your stomach finally began turning, and you felt your strained shoulders loosen up as he continued to assault your starving cunt with his straight jabs.

You steadied your breathing as best as you could and carefully observed those around you. Thankfully they were still busy minding their own business to notice yours. You leaned back in your seat and angled your hips so that your boyfriend’s fingers can sharpen its thrust into you. A relieved and blissful sigh escaped your lips as you revelled at the new and exhilarating emotion this was bringing you.

“Such a needy slut.” Jungkook chuckled, watching his digits get sucked in by your narrow cavern and every time he pulled out, it got even more coated with your slick juices. He suddenly pulled out completely, making you clench painfully around nothing and you wail a little too loud. Your hands came flying straight to cover your mouth.

Jungkook’s clacked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, eyes piercing through yours “If we get caught, you won’t be able to cum, understand?” He inserted his two fingers drenched with your essence inside his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and sucking on it until it was bone dry, releasing it with a lewd pop. “Now, be a good slut and shut that dirty mouth of yours or else.” You know Jungkook well enough to know what me means with ‘or else.’ He’d have no trouble depriving you of your orgasm and walking out on you this instance if you commit even the slightest mistake.

You obediently nodded without hesitation.

“Good girl.” He gently stroked your tear stained cheeks with his thumb and placed a small kiss on the tip of your nose. “Now,” This time he advanced three fingers past your dribbling folds and the stretch is indescribable, divine even. The way his long digits mercilessly scissored inside you, going against the natural reflex of your walls to constrict them has got you soaring near your anticipated high.

“Fuck,” he groaned at the way your balmy velvet walls wrapped around him perfectly. “You’re even tighter than before, fuck.” He imagined his dick in place of his fingers being hugged and milked by your incredible pussy for all it's got. The mere thought of him pounding into you made him harder. Shit, he can do that later. Now, he needs to give you what you want, what he came here to do.

His lips found your neglected stiff nipple, latching onto it and sucking like a starved infant.

"J-jungkook.." You sighed, droplet of sweat forming at your temples. The library was fully air-conditioned, but you were sweating buckets like you've been sitting in a sauna for the last ten minutes. Damn this boy and what he does to you.

The force and accuracy of his fingers pushing into you and abusing your sweet spot while suckling on your bud has sent you spiraling into a delirious state. It's so tight, the coil in your stomach. "I'm so close…"

"Then come."

He coaxed, tripling the speed of his digits rubbing against your convulsing walls. You never ceased to amaze him, if you were already tight before, he doesn't understand how your pussy is still clamping down on his fingers. "Fuck… Your cunt is fucking amazing..."

It doesn't take long before your eyes start rolling to the back of your skull and images of white stars fill the back of your eyelids. Relief, sweet relief flooded your body the moment you came.

Before any of your juices got the chance to dribble down your thigh, Jungkook slides his finger across your swollen slit, scoops it up and shoves it back into you making you squeak in surprise.

"You're not gonna let any of that go waste until I eat it out of you, understand?"

A sly wicked grin appeared on Jungkook's face and you knew exactly what that meant.

The jog from the library to Jungkook's apartment was the longest five minute in your life. Every part of your body, even the backs of your knees were coated with a thin sheen of sweat. Fuck all of this, you couldn't wait any longer. You slithered your body between him and the door and attached your hungry lips to his jugular. Your manicured fingernails scratching and digging into his back with much impatience.

"Fuck baby." Jungkook groaned as you nibbled and licked the expanses of tense his neck. Tasting the concoction of his sweat mixed with his favourite scent from Hugo boss. God, you loved how he tastes. How hot his skin becomes when it collides with yours, and how he makes you into the horny mess you are now. Fuck, you love everything about this man.

"So impatient." He fumbled with the keys for a few seconds before finding out it was unlocked. Hyung must have left if unlocked since he knew I was coming home, he thought. Paying no mind to it, their apartment building had great security anyways.

"Kookie," you moaned, desperately trying to peel off his restricting clothes from his body while he did the same to yours. "Want you now." You mumbled, gliding your hand over the taut muscle of his abdomen.

Jungkook captured you by the waist, allowing you to wrap your legs around his torso. Taking a handful of your plump ass in his hand and then giving it a harsh slap. He trod the ten step walk from their front door to the living room couch, gently setting you down on the soft furniture.

"Want you, too" He couldn't wait either. With hooded lids, he marvelled at your immaculate image sprawled on his sofa. Supple skin glowing under the fluorescent light, tits barely contained by your lace bra, and your hair acting as a halo around your radiant face. You looked fucked up as ever, and he lives for it.

As he was about to unbuckle his belt and finally stick his dick into you, he was interrupted by a cough.

"Um, excuse me?" Jungkook's platinum blond haired roommate started.

"Oh shit, Yoongi-hyung."

You bet yourself you were faster than flash, grabbing the decorative pillow next to you and concealing your exposed body.

"I-I thought you were..." anyone in the room can hear the sound of Jungkook gulping. "out with Namjoon-hyung?" He gave a crooked smile, side-stepping to the left just enough to cover you with his own naked self.

"Last minute cancel," the elder shrugged nonchalantly, as if he hadn't seen something he shouldn't have. "Don't worry about me. I'll mind my own business. You love birds can continue." He retreated back to his genius lab.

Jungkook looked at you, blush creeping up to the curve of his ears. "Sorry about that," lips curling into an innocent smile "where were we?"

Your fit of giggles we're unstoppable as you threw the pillow you were holding onto, aiming for his face. “Shut up, Kook.” You couldn't believe the audacity of this boy.

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years ago

Note

More of desi y/n imagines?? I really like all of yours imagines desi and other

DESI PREGO READER DURING QUARANTINE WITH HARRY!!

It was the best, delightful time in Harry’s life. During quarantine when they found out they were two months pregnant and to say the least Harry wouldn’t stop crying into Y/N's chest because he may not thought of becoming a dad so soon but it still cocooned him with such a sanguine feeling – he became a puddle of sweetness at Y/N's toes.

After telling their families. It was bunch of well wishes and advises from them well more of Y/N's mum teaching her a list of their old traditional tricks and eating habits to stay healthy.

Y/N didn’t need a pregnancy pillow at all. Harry fulfilled that role with such dignity and proud, happy to have her bump over his tummy and her thighs slinked around his own while she snored with little wheezy drooly breaths against his cheek wiggling everytime he traces his fingertips under the crescents of her plum tits.

They had all the time to themselves doing face masks made out of turmeric, yogurt and chickpea flour and he is never able to resist but to sneak his palm under bum and nudge her up into his lap to suckle soft kisses at her lips because she looked heart-achingly adorable in shalwar kameez Anne had tailored for her from one of her closest Indian friend for Y/N to wear in her pregnancy (because Y/N’s wardrobe’s already filled with many of them and she finds herself most comfy wearing them).

Her womb starting to get beautiful and big with passing months heralded Harry about her jesting cravings and her tremendous hormones.

He'd drive an hour to get to Waseem's grandma to get some desi makhan (organic butter) for Y/N since she’s Punjabi and it just rotted her mood when her favourite South Asian store down the block was shut most of the time, having dry parathas in brekkie used to be no fun.

“Hmm. Smells so nice.” Harry hums tipping his nose, nostrils expanding greedily to soak into it as Y/N made them passing him a cheeky smile, “It was worth tha’ boring drive,” The corner of his lips denting into a looping smile as he flutters his eyelashes up at her with his chin buried in his palm and elbow bent upon the counter.

“She even taught me how make desi makhan at home!” His chest boasted out proudly and Y/N’s head lulled at her shoulder with giggles slipping past her rosy mouth, she rounded over the counter to reach him and he had his hands already splayed forward to hold her and bring her into him.

“You’re g'na make makhan for me?” Pure love if you ask me so. When Harry rattled his head happily her lips wobbled terribly eyes glossing from feeling lightheaded with his affection and caring assiduousness for such intricate wishes for her spreading in to her bones.

“I love you, so, so, much.” She squished his cheeks between her spread palms and mantled his simpering lips, bushy cheeks and eyes with wet gaspy kisses -- sweeping his tufts of curls away to press her lips against his forehead while he kept on hugging her from belly swaying them ever so lightly.

They'd be binge watching Sharukh Khan's rom-coms on Netflix when she’d whine into his throat about how she’s craving jalebis so bad, she’s ready to walk bare foot to get a takeaway if that’s possible and Harry would just chuckle at her dramatic antics kissing her temple feeling the healthy pulse there and would take her along into the kitchen.

“No need fo’ tha’ baby. We could make them at home.” Harry learned to make jalebis for Y/N when they first started dating -- they had this huge fight and Y/N refused to let him be anywhere near her. Harry knew it shouldn’t have hurt him this much since he considered it just a fling, but when in a lonely bed all he missed was her warmth and her fragrance looming around him as some sort of comforting blanket he realized he wouldn’t be able to spend another night without her.

At, three in the morning he learned how to make jalebis and they might were topsy-turvy leaving stains on his clothes, sticky gooey fingers the sentiment behind it was just so pure and loving.

Y/N still remembers him popping up at her doorstep barely recognisable drenched in rain while he tried to keep the container safe under his hoodie all she was able to do was smash her lips against his wet slippery ones not caring if they tumbled into mud from her literal passionate attack.

“How ‘bout we open a sweets shop instead?” He grinned taking perfectly orange sorbet jalebis out from oil, bunny teeth fully displaying now when she giggled softly wiggling her brows at him, “Touring the world's no more fun ey?” Her heart thumps sadly when a pregnant pause lingered in air and she cooed when his shoulders slumped, fingers fumbling with the tissue paper.

“No more without ye'.” Her arms wrapping around his torso, cheek smushed under his shoulder blade as they let themselves divulge into tranquil calmness.

“Good thing's now you’ll come back to the two of us.” She tried to cheer him up and he just rubbed his stinging eyes with the heels of his palm, sighing then turning towards her to cradle her face to make her look up at him.

“You make me s'happy, y'know that?” His thumb swooning over her bottom lip tenderly and she gave him a playful nip with mischievous eyes, “Defo knows that –- gloats me ego.” She smiles into the their messy kiss tugging onto his flimsy shirt to keep her upright and snacking the plate of delights from behind him.

“Oi! Come back here y'greedy goat!” He'd complain practically stomping behind her to their bedroom.

The mornings are quite an experience for both of them. She’d wake up to the elated sight of him snuggled into her side, suffocating him with his rings of curls all over her face and his swelled up bulge resting heavy against her thighs.

To ease it for him she slithers her hand into his sweats brushing her fingertips along his stiffy length and giggles hoarsely when he stirs and squeezes her tighter whining aimlessly in her neck.

“Harry ...” She whispers knuckling a hand up his soft cheek and he quips lightly with a snore, “Mhmm. He’s asleep.” So, Y/N shrugs and retrieves her hand away from around his throbbing cock that supports a semi after her attention.

“No baby!” He pants out sleepily catching her wrist and guiding her touch under his heavy balls.

“Shh. Shh. Gimme a kiss.” She prods his chin with her nose to petal a warm smooch against his mouth and he pities a mewl panting ‘yeah —- yeah faster’ and ‘mhmm rub my balls uhmm j‐- just like that’ as he rocked his hips against her hand nibbling onto the sheeny skin of her exposed collarbone.

“Stop ..” He growls out pressing his bicep into mattress to lift himself up and skims tiny kisses all over her face when she whines a complain raking her palms from underneath his shirt, “But whyyyyy ....”

“Wanna cum inside you, love. Fill y’up nice and warm.” With a gentle push he presses her into pillows, hauling her leg around him —-- finger pads digging pudgy into her flesh as he lubes her to give her one of the best morning fuck.

#TBH IF YOURE PUNJABI AND READING THIS LESSS FUCK #JK JK JK #I LOVE MY DESI PAKI INDIAN BENGALI SRI LANKAN ASIAN WHEREVER YOURE I LOVE U ALL SM #HARRY STYLES WRITTING #harry styles fanfic #HARRY STYLES FANFICTION #harry styles blurbs #cute harry #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction

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todoscript · 5 years ago

Note

Can I request Pro!Hero Bakugou in a scenario where he's going on the scene where a place was being attacked by low level criminals and the place's mascot character was essentially trying to protect kids from the harm, kind of standing up to the villains to abide time til the heroes or police arrive. Bakugou saves the day and the mascot character pops their giant head off to properly thank him and he's like--Oh shit they're cute I was not prepared

Bunny Face

Genre | Fluff.

Pairing | Pro Hero!Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Words | 1.9K+

Warnings | Bakugou getting flustered. Bakugou cursing. Bakugou beating up a villain. Bakugou.

A/N | I changed it from villains to a single villian, hope that’s ok. Also, Anon, this request? This is big brain energy right here

To say you were dying would be an understatement.

The cruel rays of the sun beating down on the earth made it an absolute hell underneath the heavy bunny costume you were forced to don on, all thanks to a particular coworker who bailed on their shift today with an abhorrent excuse of⁠—you quote—“car trouble.” It was bullshit, but you weren’t the one calling the shots, not when your boss said you were to fill in for them despite your protests. Now, clad from head to toe in fluffy pink fur and hefty layers of fabric and foam, you suffocated from within a cocoon that gathered heat and sweat around your body. You were so letting your coworker have a piece of your mind the next time they showed up.

“Miss Bunny! Miss Bunny! Let us take a picture with you!” a circle of kids hollered, their grabby hands tugging your fur to seize your attention and even jump to pull on your ears. The only thing you have to thank this costume for is the fact it at least concealed the dreary expression on your face, masked by the mascot’s smiley, plastic facade.

You simulated a chipper voice not to break the guise. “Alright, Miss Bunny’s coming,” you managed as the kids pulled you in front of an assembly of parents that captured their cute little children posing with a mascot who most certainly desired to be anywhere else.

Just as their phones clicked and shuttered, a loud boom suddenly thundered behind you, grabbing everyone’s attention in the area. The parents looked up with gaped mouths at the smoke diffused in the sky and the whirring of rides that tottered off balance in the distance.

“Look! Up there!” Their kids pointed to the lone figure who stood atop the highest peak of the ferris wheel, the man shouting out curses and threats for all those beneath him to tremble and run in terror. You, however, simply grounded yourself, impassive underneath your costume and nearly numb at all the events transpiring around you.

You have got to be shitting me, you thought, eyes cast into a deadpan.

Just when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse.

“Ground Zero! Ground Zero!”

Bakugou winced at the deafening static blared into his right ear, where the intercom vibrated a frequency of hasty squalls from his sidekick. He pressed a button on the device with his right hand to relay the call, his left currently occupied gripping the collar of a thug he just knocked into submission after giving them chase through the alleys.

“Calm down, dumbass, I heard you the first fucking time,” he scolded, the clamor of sirens heard in the background of the other line, “What is it?”

“A villain is running amuck at the local fair!”

“What the hell?! That place is populated with people!” Bakugou’s eyes flared alert as the tone in his voice rose to a volume much more piercing than his sidekick’s. Unknowingly, the hold he had on the unconscious goon in front of him tightened while his mind conjured the next plan of action. With such a densely packed area of civilians, the villain will undoubtedly cause rampage and havoc if not dealt with immediately. And right now, he was still halfway across the city from where they held the local fair. Not wasting another second of his time, he tossed the thug off to the side and tied him up for the police to apprehend later.

“Evacuate as many people as possible before I get there! Make sure the fucking villain doesn’t damage any of the structures holding up the bigger rides!” he instructed his sidekick.

“Yes, sir, Ground Zero, sir!”

With that, he pushed the mic off on his comlink before propelling himself into the air thanks to the kinetic explosions emitted from his palms, blasting past buildings, and keen on seeing the villain’s imminent doom at his hand.

It’s through his breakneck speeds across the city that he arrived there in no time at all. He assessed the current damage in the area and leered at the gray smoke scattered in the air, eyeing the attractions that fell off their foundations. He eventually spotted a crowd of kids gathered around a big blur of pink that held its arms outward to shield them, even while a menacing figure slowly inched closer

“There you fucking are.” Bakugou fired forward, eager to rocket down from the skies and let the sole of his boot greet the villain square in the face. On impact, the thug clobbered onto the ground, but was yet to be knocked out, gathering himself to stand and face the Pro Hero.

“It’s Ground Zero!”

The kids that surrounded you shrilled in joy at the explosion hero’s appearance into the fray, pulling on your costume to express their excitement.

“Look, Miss Bunny, Ground Zero’s here to save us!”

You peered through the small, meshed slits of your costume at the man before you, who had his grenade arms ready. He enacted confidence in his stance, challenging the dangerous villain without a single ounce of hesitation.

“Hey, Bunny Face!” he yelled, eyes never leaving his opponent.

Bunny Face? Your brows knitted together.

“Y-Yes?” you replied, voice coming out hoarse through the dense layer of foam.

“Get those kids out of here, I’ll handle the villain!” he commanded, and you did not disobey. You hastened the children by your side to make a break with you to the gates and safely meet their parents again, leaving the explosion hero to defeat the threat.

And defeat he did. The villain stood no chance against him as his attacks were all eluded by the Pro Hero’s high evasion and trained skills that had the goon edging the end of his rope.

“Screw this! I’m outta here!” he shouted, turning toward the opposite direction to attempt a getaway. However, Bakugou was already one step ahead of him, propelled and positioned in front of the enemy once more.

“If you’re going to escape, you shouldn’t yell your plans out loud, you fucking idiot,” was all the explosion hero gave, his hands effused with nitroglycerin that quickly emitted a radiating heat.

“Now DIE!!”

At his triumphant roar, his palms ignited a tremendous explosion forward, making clean contact on the villain who stood aimlessly at the flash of light that enveloped his body in a fever of nuclear energy. By the time the smog cleared, Bakugou was crossed with an unconscious, smoking body.

He dragged the villain toward the gate, where the police and his sidekicks gathered, along with the other fair-goers. They applauded him for his victory, saving the day once again. As the hero scanned through the crowd, he caught sight of you in the throng thanks to your bulky, bright costume that stuck out like a sore thumb.

When your gazes met, you finally hauled the large bunny head off, revealing yourself to his red eyes that widened slightly upon grasping your true appearance.

He couldn’t help the stare fixed on you while you approached him, noting how your pretty eyes glistened, complimented by the balmy rosiness adorning your cheeks and the delicate flow of your hair that danced lightly at every step you took.

Fuck, she’s cute, his thoughts blurted out without him realizing you were now right in front of him.

“Ground Zero, right? Thanks for helping us back there. We didn’t know what we’d do without you,” you thanked, your words acting as the catalyst that finally brought his mind back to the cusp of reality. He shook his head in an attempt to ward off the flush of red reaching his cheeks due to your gratitude and the small proximity between your faces. Your voice—once veiled by that abominable voice box in your suit that did no justice to how sweet your tone was—did not help him maintain his indifferent facade. He opted to turn his head to the side for now.

“N-No problem,” he cursed at the way his deep timbre stuttered out his reply.

“No, really, thank you! I didn’t know how long I could protect those kids, but you managed to come in at the right time before things got bad!” you expressed your gratefulness while inching closer, much to his dismay.

“Look, it’s nothing, alright?! I’m a hero, it’s what I fucking do,” he brazenly stated, projecting as much poise as he could muster despite finding the dazed gloss in your eyes, and the way you gingerly pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, cute. Just even a peek of your soft-looking lips in his peripheral vision was enough for his demeanor to betray him.

Calm the fuck down, Ground Zero, he urged himself.

“What’s wrong? Do I look OK?” you called out his series of glances, subconscious about how you appeared after staying hidden beneath the sweltering hot ensemble for the majority of the afternoon. In your head, you thought you must be a complete mess in front of him, with your hair strewned all around and face a bright, crimson hue. However, Bakugou saw differently, and through his eyes he tried to fathom how one could still look so pretty in spite of that cumbersome costume you wore.

“You look fucking fine,” he assured, though his words were an understatement in comparison to the rampant thoughts imbued in his head. A smile lined your lips thanks to his affirmation.

“Oh, here, have this!” You reached your pink pad of a hand into the front pocket of your costume’s overalls and pulled out wads of yellow tickets. “Some free admittance tickets for the fair! Maybe you can use them when it opens up again.”

You offered the stack to him at which he was going to reject and cooley state he didn’t have time for shit like that, but he pulled his brakes upon realizing something.

“You.. work here, right?” he asked, though it should be obvious considering the hefty costume no regular person would wear on a hot day like this. Or on any day for that matter. The bunny honestly was, without a doubt in his mind, quite fucking hideous. However an endearing girl like you got roped into this job was a mystery to him, but he eventually received an explanation.

“Yes, though I’m not usually the one wearing the mascot costume. My coworker bailed today, so I was forced to take their place,” you answered, mentally pained when remembering what you had endured throughout this hellish day.

“Your coworker must be an ass.”

“Oh tell me about it,” you agreed with an exasperated sigh leaving your lips. “Anyways, I usually work at a game stall next to the ferris wheel.” You pointed to said attraction that was somehow still standing in one piece despite all the chaos that transpired today.

“You’re welcome to visit me if you want, Ground Zero,” you said, and at that, Bakugou gladly took the tickets from your hands and accepted your proposal, knowing it meant he could see your pretty face again.

“Fine, but when you see me, it’s Katsuki. Bakugou Katsuki,” he informed, babbling about how you couldn’t call him by his hero name or risk bringing him unnecessary attention he most certainly didn’t need to deal with during his free time. Though in actuality, he just wanted you to be familiar with him and utter his name in that syrupy voice of yours that sounded like melodies to his ears.

You giggled, the laughter coming from your lips saccharine and the expression on your face rivaling a meadow of flowers with the colorful bloom in your eyes.

“Alright, Bakugou Katsuki.”

And then you finally thought that maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.

Ending Notes | I hope this request was ok! If any of you want to request something of your own, feel free! My ask box will stay open until whenever

#bnha #bnha x reader #bakugou #mha #bnhabookclub #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha imagines #mha imagines #my writing

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30secondstoanime · 4 years ago

Text

The Birthday Present

pairing: Pro!Hero Midoriya x Fem!Reader

genre/warnings: Reader Insert, Birthday Sex

Kinky Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku Gets Out of His Comfort Zone, That's Not How You're Supposed to Use Your Quirk, Porn With Plot, praise kink?, very smutty, Rough Sex, role-playing, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Teasing, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, Light Choking, Doggy Style, Fluff and Smut, after sex cuddles

word count: 7,467

→ summary: Your birthday is around the corner. What better gift than your boyfriend, the #1 Hero Deku, finally giving you what you want the way you want it: rough and kinky. But first plot!

a/n: Sorry about the crap summary and title, I'm working on that lol. So this is my first fic for the bnha fandom and first attempt at writing very explicit sex scenes and venturing into kinks/BDSM, so please be kind, but also I’d love feedback! This was supposed to be a cute four-page oneshot but turned into a sixteen-page, 7k+ word behemoth, hence the self-indulgent tag ‘cause I couldn't stop writing. I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labor ;)

In a few days, you’ll be turning twenty-four. Your birthday has always been an odd day you think for someone with your quirk because age really was just a number. That’s not to say you weren’t planning to do something fun, at least if you could figure out what you’d like to do. Okay, so that was a lie. You knew exactly what or should you say who you wanted to do and that it involved getting your back blown out. As soon as the thought pops into your head, your epiglottis forgets its job, and you choke on the sip of UCC coffee, you had tried to swallow. You cough to clear your airway, gasping when air finally expands your lungs. You tap your pen nervously against your desk, eyes scanning the other pro heroes’ faces in your agency. It seems your sudden outburst hadn’t disrupted the comfortable silence of the natural lull of the workday. A beep from your hero pager pulls your attention away from people watching in the office. Coordinates flash in five consecutive seconds before the transmission ends. You stand grabbing your toolbelt and strapping it across your hips; you make your way to the front. As you near the exit, you hear your hero name being called. You turn and see Yaomomo briskly walking towards you.

“Hey Creati, you got the page too?”

“I did, sounds like they’ve made a bit of a mess of things.” You scoff good-naturedly.

“When do they ever not. Were they really like this during your time at U.A.?” She giggles and nods her head. You wonder if you’ll ever stop cleaning up after the nation’s top three heroes.

“Better get going then, we both know they share a singular brain cell, so there’s no telling how much time we have to fix things.”

“Atomic!” You laugh at Yaomomo’s weak attempt to scold you — the amusement in her black eyes softens the tone.

−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−

“Oh my.”

You blow out a low whistle. Ice and scorch marks are scattered across the street and surrounding buildings. Explosive ash is still gently falling from the sky, and black tendrils are haphazardly keeping electric poles, exposed building foundation, and an abundance of wrecked vehicles from collapsing.

“Creati, check the building foundations. Create new beams and weld them together if necessary. I’ll get started on the pole, we can’t have a live electric wire falling.” She nods, and you split off. The work is slow and arduous, but the orderly nature of reorganizing and coaxing atomic particles back into place helps the time pass quickly. You’ve just finished rearranging the anatomical structure of a car hanging from a, thankfully, undamaged light pole, so that it falls to the ground weightlessly. You touch the damaged side, pull it back together, and return the car to its original density. You give the car a quick tap with the toe of your foot to test the structural integrity, satisfied you step back taking in your handiwork. What had a few hours ago looked like a DEFCON 3 military mission gone awry is now back to looking like an ordinary Japanese street. Well, as normal as you and Yaomomo could reconstruct — you weren’t miracle workers, and Ground Zero’s explosive residue was hard to get rid of. Instead, the way it collected and hung in the atmosphere made it difficult for your quirk to erase without condensing the air. That was out of the question unless you wanted to suffocate Yaomomo. Which you didn’t, so the employees of these buildings would be dealing with the smell for at least a week. Sighing, you tuck your hands in your pockets and make your way over to Creati. Her welding mask obscures her face, but you know it’s in deep concentration. After she cuts the torch and pushes the protective gear up, she gives you a smile.

“All done?”

“Just about.”

“I’ll page H.Q. Might even lodge a formal complaint against those three bird brains while I’m at it.”

“(Y/N), you can’t be serious.” She shoots you an incredulous look.

“They make this huge ass mess and don’t even bother to wait for us to arrive before dipping. Total dick move.”

“Ah-huh.” You don’t like the teasing note in her voice.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” You cross your arms defensively.

“Spit it out, Yaoyorozu.”

“You sure your foul attitude has nothing to do with not seeing Deku?” You roll your eyes.

“I’ll see him at home like I do every day. So no, I’m not upset about not seeing him.”

“If you say so.” She gives you a look, and you let out an exasperated puff of air.

“You cannot still be stuck on that!”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” She bats her eyes at you innocently while creating a duffle bag to transport the welding equipment.

“That God awful theory you and Ashido have about me having a hero kink for Izuku." You begin to walk side by side back to the agency. You hand her an energy bar from your utility belt.

“I mean, you do get very flushed whenever you see him on patrol. Like, if it were a hentai video, you’d definitely be drooling with your tongue lolling out of your mouth.”

“Ugh!” You shove her with your shoulder. “That is so gross.” Both of you laugh, and after a small lapse into silence, you give.

“Okay fine. I might get instahorny whenever I see Izuku in costume, but I can’t help it. He just looks so good, and it’s heightened because I know what he looks like out of costume, and then all I want to do is jump his bones, but of course, I don’t because propriety. So I’m left with all this pent up sexual frustration!”

“So, are you going to ever mention this to him? Your birthday is in a few days and if I may be so bold —��

“It’s never stopped you.” You mumble under your breath with a smile.

“I’d suggest you request it be your birthday present.”

“Pfft. Yaomomo, we’ve been together almost a year and a half, and while our sex life is fucking phenomenal, I’m talking multiple orgasms almost every time, amazing — it’s been very strictly vanilla. Not from any lack of trying on my end, but every time I’ve tried to spice things up, he gets as close as humanly possible to spontaneous combustion. Don’t even get me started on the one time I tried to get him to choke me while I —”

“(Y/N)! Stop, goodness, I do not need the play by play of your and Izuku’s sex life. I just,” she massages her temples, “wanted to make a suggestion. While I’m relieved you feel so secure in our friendship to be so open, please remember I went to high school with him. He’s like a little brother.”

“Oh, Yaomomo, there’s nothing little about him.” Her face pales, and you can’t stifle your cackle. It quickly becomes a full-blown laugh that rattles through your body.

“I went a little too far with that last comment, gomen. On a serious note, though, how would I even go about asking him? ‘Hey babe, it’s my birthday so I want you to fuck me until my knees are jello while in your hero costume because it gets me all hot and bothered oh and since I’m risking it all I’d love it if you tied me up and maybe choked me too.’”

You glance over your shoulder, a look of profound regret is plastered over Yaomomo’s face. You give her an impish grin.

“Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue does it.”

“Oh (Y/N).” Your friend shakes her head. When you finally turn the corner onto the street, your hero agency is housed, you catch sight of a mop of green hair. You pick up your pace, a mischievous grin on your face. Using your quirk, you redistribute your mass, so your footfall’s noise against the pavement is silenced. Izuku is talking with someone, his back turned to you. The goods were on display. When he’s in reach, you stretch out your arms, hands cupping his butt you feel him stiffen as you whisper against his ear.

“You’re under arrest for transporting illegal buns of steel.” You watch the blush creep up from his neck before capturing his entire face. He turns his neck, trying to get a good look at you.

“Wh-what!” You begrudgingly let go of his ass, and he turns his body to face you, his freckles standing out against the pink hue of his flustered expression.

“Sorry hun, I don’t make the rules.” You shrug your shoulders.

“I- I, (Y/N) that’s not even a legal penal code! A-and there’s no way I could transport enough steel on my person to warrant a body search.”

“Ooh Deku,” you loosen up the state of your atoms, allowing them to vibrate in mock arousal, “I love it when you talk legal code at me. Repeat it: penal.”

He flounders for a reply, mouth agape at a total loss for words. You giggle at his expression, a total deer in headlights. The person he’d been talking to finally makes themselves known.

“Atomic, you’re still teasing the living soul out of Deku per usual. Glad to know things haven’t changed ‘round here.” His shark tooth smile pulls an equally toothy smile from you.

“Eijiro! When did you get back? I’ve missed you.” You rush to the redhead, and he reciprocates your hug, holding you tight.

“Man, I’ve missed you too (Y/N). The States were cool, but there’s no manlier place than home sweet home.” You pull back and take him in. He looks the exact same if not a little bit more tanned.

“Damn straight.” Yaoyorozu arrives at the end of your reunion. Her excitement at seeing her old friend is nearly palatable. They catch up enthusiastically, and you saddle up next to your boyfriend, who’s finally gotten his blush under control.

“Hey, babe.” You give his cheek a chaste kiss, and he smiles.

“Hey, love,” Izuku gives your hand a squeeze, “How was your day?”

“It was pretty run of the mill except for the utter shitstorm Yaomomo and I had to clean up in Minato City.” You glance down and watch his feet shuffle from side to side.

“Huh, sounds pretty epic.”

“Not the first, second, or even the third word I’d use, but we’re all entitled to our opinions. And don’t you try acting coy with me, Izuku! That blonde ticking time grenade, the confused weather pattern, and your quirk were all over that place.” Izuku gulps.

“I expended a lot of energy cleaning up after you and your friends baka. As compensation, you’ve gotta cook me curry rice. Deal?”

He kisses your cheek in assent.

“Great!” You beam. “I’m gonna go change, be back in fifteen.” You disappear through the agency’s massive double doors. Yaomomo watches until you’re out of view before she walks over to Midoriya.

“So about (Y/N) ’s birthday . . .”

−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−

When you come out, you find a peculiar scene waiting for you. Yaoyorozu has crafted a fan for, you presume, Izuku, who is so red you could almost see the light refraction from his face’s heat and sweating by what looks like the gallon. Eijiro is by his side, trying to calm him down. You heighten the sensitivity of your cochlea to pick up the tail end of their conversation.

“It’ll be super manly, dude!”

“Bu-but I’ve never . . .” Your boyfriend seems tongue-tied.

“You’ve definitely got it in you,” Eijiro slaps Izuku on the back, “Plus Ultra!”

Izuku echoes Eijiro, but you can tell his heart isn’t in it.

You return to your average level of hearing and walk up to the trio.

“Everything good?” They all look at you with expressions that clearly scream, ‘No, everything is not good dumbass.’

“Riiight, foolish question. Izuku, babe, do you need me to help you?” He squeaks, and that stops you dead in your tracks. The last time he had squeaked in your presence was when he’d asked you out on your first date, and you think it was mostly because you had bluntly told him you had every intention of having sex with him if not after your first then for sure after your second date. He didn’t even squawk when you made good on your declaration, and you had been positive he was going to. Your assurance cost you a ¥2,000 bet with Ochako and Shoto. Whatever had transpired while you were changing had him spooked.

You crouch down and gently take his face between your hands. His cheeks are unnaturally warm. Closing your eyes, you reach out with your quirk to scan his vitals. What the actual fuck? Izuku’s pregenual anterior cingulate cortex is enormous. Your boyfriend is next level embarrassed. His heart rate is in the 200bpm range, which should have been impossible because it only ever got that high when he was exercising, and you were quite familiar with getting it there.

You’re honestly shocked his heart hasn’t started to palpitate with the sky-high levels of cortisol in his blood and high heart rate. Taking a deep breath, you begin to gently persuade the firing neurons near his PACC to chill, its size slowly decreases. You travel down to his hypothalamus and rearrange some of its chemical balance, so it stops producing corticotropin-releasing hormone, creating a negative feedback loop that would lead to his body to drop its cortisol production. You vasoconstrict a handful of the blood vessels in his face for good measure, hoping to cool it down. Your eyes flutter open, and the ruddiness is gone, and his cheeks feel cool against your palms. He gives you a weak smile and gosh that smile, these freckles, those lively emerald eyes. You lean your forehead against his, taking a moment to collect yourself. You kiss the tip of his nose before pulling yourself up, stretching once you’re fully upright.

“Well damn, I’m starving now. I know I said you had to cook for me, but I don’t think I’ll last. What do you say, Number 1. Hero, care to take me out to eat?”

Izuku gets to his feet, with a bit of help from Eijiro, who keeps a hand wrapped around his waist to keep him from stumbling.

“Yeah, of course, love. Just tell me where you want to eat.”

You grin in delight. Before making a decision, you turn to your two other companions. You’re not sure when Yaomomo had time to change, but she’s no longer in her hero costume.

“Would y’all like to join us? Izuku’s treat.” Your cinnamon roll’s protest is drowned out by their loud acceptance.

“I mean, if my bro is gonna treat us, then how could I say no?”

“How gracious Izuku, I’d love to share a meal with everyone.”

“Let’s get going then!” You grab Izuku’s hand and turn around, heading in the direction of the train stop. The walk will give you time to decide where you want to eat.

−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−

“Hold on one sec, almost got it.” You pace next to Izuku; the pressure on your bladder almost debilitating. At the click of your front door unlocking and seeing Izuku push it open, you rush through over the threshold. You kick the heels off your feet, your slippers abandoned at the entryway as you make a break for the bathroom. You can’t get your underwear off quick enough. The relief is almost pleasurable. You’d forgotten what it felt like to pee while exceedingly inebriated. Typically when you go out drinking, you elevate your liver’s production of alcohol dehydrogenase so you can avoid getting drunk, but tonight was your birthday celebration, and you wanted to get shitfaced, so you dialed it back. Now that you’re home and not interested in a hangover, you make the necessary adjustments to your liver. The night out had been a pleasant surprise. More people had shown up than you’d been led to believe would, most importantly, your younger siblings had stopped by — you hadn’t seen them since moving to Musutafu to pursue your hero career. You finish reminiscing over the night’s events. Quickly wiping, you flush the toilet and wash your hands. When you open the door, you find your slippers are there waiting. He was a total sweetheart.

You slide your sore feet in and sigh at the fluffiness. You make your way to your bedroom, surprised to find it empty. Where had Izuku gone? You take off your earrings, dropping them into your jewelry box. Making your way to the main bathroom connected to your room, you’ve just finished wiping away your makeup when you hear the door open. You walk to the bathroom door to peek and gasp as soon as you spot the figure closing the door behind them. Now you’d be the first to admit you are a horny bitch, but never have you felt your pussy throb with such a deep longing the way it was throbbing now. You stand still dumbfounded at seeing Izuku in his hero costume in your bedroom.

“Babe?” You try to suppress the quiver in your voice.

“Ma’am,” He tilts his head in greeting, “I got reports of a villain in the vicinity. I’m Deku, and I’m here to take care of you.”

Why the fuck did he just introduce himself? And a villain? You reach out with your quirk but don’t feel an unknown presence nearby. You start to walk towards him but stop at the foot of your bed. He meets you there, and you don’t know what to expect, but it definitely was not him pushing you onto your back. You fall with a muffled thud against the comforter. You stare up at him at a complete loss. You then become hyper-aware of what you’re wearing. The sparkling strappy mini dress leaves little to the imagination, and you’re positive that from his angle, Izuku can see your panties and the growing evidence of your arousal.

“Apologies, ma’am, but I’ll be using my quirk to restrain you as a precautionary measure.” Your mouth goes dry as you watch Blackwhip manifest wrapping around your wrists, pulling your arms above your head, and adhering to your shared bed’s headboard. You have to scoot yourself back a few inches to ease the tension in your shoulders. Holy shit. He just tied you up. This whole time he’s been standing at the end of the bed taking you in. You know your face is flushed, and you can feel your nipples brushing against the material of your dress now that you’re so turned on. Izuku’s hands come into view, and that somehow gets your mouth to work again.

“What are you going to do?” You arch an eyebrow and part your lips to let your tongue dart out and wet them. Fuck Yaomomo wasn’t off the mark with her comment.

“I’ll need to do a full-body search to ensure you’re not concealing anything illegal on your person.” You don’t have time to respond before his gloved hands caress down your pinned arms, across where your neck and shoulders meet. Leaving goosebumps in their wake. He cups your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. You groan as the sensation travels down, pooling between your legs. He moves down your sides, slowly over your exposed thighs sticking strictly to the outside of your legs until he reaches mid-calf. You feel his hands move, and suddenly their inching closer to your aching cunt. Using his right hand Izuku runs a finger teasingly up between your clothed slit and your hips give an involuntary buck. He removes his finger and tuts at you, that pisses you off.

“What the fuck Izu —” You stop yourself when you see another tendril of black materialize near your face.

“Don’t make me gag you. My name is Deku, and you will address me as Deku-sama.” There’s a finality in his tone that leaves no room for argument. You’re torn between being really fucking aroused and very vexed at this role reversal. You’d always been on top, literally and figuratively, and now here he was, your cinnamon roll, threatening to gag you and not even blushing about it. He takes your silence as understanding and begins to hike up the bottom of your dress. With your midriff exposed, he finally settles between your legs, his toned abdomen flush against you. He places an open-mouthed kiss just above your belly button, his tongue flicks out to taste your skin. Izuku’s lips continue to roam over every inch of your exposed abdomen, sucking and biting. He’s going to leave love marks all over your stomach, you’re sure. His hands travel up under your dress, coming to rest just below your breasts. You feel the flat of his tongue working its way towards his hands. When you can feel his breath tickling you already hard nipples, he pulls his face away. You squirm and pull against your restraint — you feel them tighten.

“What is it you want, villain?” Fuuuck. The word falls from his lips wrapped in sinful promise sending another steady pulse of need through your body. Your nervous system was on fire.

“I want you to touch me.” You try to taper down the pleading in your voice, but the mildly amused expression on Izuku’s face says you failed.

“Like this?” His hand runs down your neck, over your dress and through the valley of your cleavage, past your naval stopping at the band of your panties. It dawns on you that he was teasing you.

“Or like this?” You’re not sure when his gloves came off or how he managed it, but one second you’re covered by the flimsy dress material next, the straps keeping it up are torn, and the dress pulled down. You hiss at the shock of the sudden temperature change, but quickly warm up as calloused fingers massage your breasts. A greedy moan is the only answer you can manage as you arch your back into his touch. He leans closer, breath warm against your neck, and moves a hand down to grip your ass,

“Let’s see if these are illegal buns of steel.” Even with how incredibly husky his voice is, you almost laugh at his remark’s absolute absurdity. Still, having maybe foreseen your reaction Izuku wraps one of your nipples between his lips before you can utter a sound.

“Deku-sama.” You inhale sharply coming completely unwound as his tongue flicks and swirls. His mouth sucks and pulls playfully. When his teeth graze your nipple, you contemplate making your hands boneless to escape the restraints just so you could tangle your hands in his hair; even with the undercut, you knew you could make him moan. The idea is quickly dashed as Izuku releases your now overly sensitive bud with a resounding pop that sends the ache in your pussy into a frenzy. Good god , he hasn’t even gotten inside of you yet. He treats your other nipple with much the same attention. However, this time, he lets his teeth give it a gentle nibble, and the shock of the feeling causes your skin to prickle. You feel him grin at your reaction before giving your nipple a farewell lick. He captures your lips, shoving his hips down against your own, as his hands’ ghost over your neck. You hook a leg around his hip, pulling him closer, trying to create as much friction as possible as you roll your hips upward. He lets out a breathy chuckle, as his mouth moves to replace his hands. He kisses up your neck, his breath tickles your ear, and you stutter out a needy whimper.

“Someone’s eager.” You groan in frustration as he pulls back. His hands grab hold of what’s left of your dress, and you help him get you out of it. He runs a finger up your stomach, stopping just below your sternum. The tip of his index finger traces a lazy circle before leaving a trail of goosebumps back down to your hip. The pressure of his finger is replaced by his mouth, biting the flesh of your hip crease hungrily. He kisses his away across to your opposite hip, traces of his kisses wet against your skin. You feel his fingers toying with the lacy hem of your panties before he hooks them in the elastic, pulling them down. You lift your hips as they pass over the curve of your ass, and you wriggle in anticipation. Izuku braces his left forearm against your right thigh, pushing your legs wider. His index finger explores your wet folds, dipping briefly into your slit, before brushing against your swollen clitoris.

“Deku-sama, please .” You don’t care how desperate you sound, the ache in your pussy is becoming unbearable. The slow burn was killing you.

“Since you said, please.” He slips a thick finger inside of you, curling it just so it massages the soft and spongy spot that makes your toes curl and lewd obscenities fall from your parted lips.

“Aah, fuck. Fuck, yes, there, right there. More. Izuku give me more.” A second finger is roughly inserted. You cry out as a jolt of ecstasy consumes every inch of you. He begins to scissor his fingers back and forth, “It’s De-ku sa-ma,” each thrust emphasizing the syllables of his declaration. You rock your hips up, trying to get his fingers deeper because you are close. You can feel the dam getting ready to burst. When his thumb circles your clit, you feel yourself clench around his fingers. He inhales sharply. You bite back a moan as stars begin to dance across your vision. The rhythm of his fingers picks up, and the pressure on your clit begins to be too much.

“You’re about to cum.” It’s not a question, but you manage to pant a yes, and it becomes your undoing. Tongue replaces fingers before you can bemoan feeling empty, hands wrap under your thighs, keeping you exposed when they instinctively try to shut. His fingers dig into soft flesh, and the pain leaves you dizzy for more. He unhooks his left arm from your thigh, again using his forearm to keep your leg down. Two fingers spread you open, and his breath is warm, and you screw your eyes shut because fucking hell, you feel ready to erupt. You feel the warmth of his tongue as it slips inside you and starts to lick around. His nose brushes against your clit as he laps up your wetness. When he takes your clitoris in his mouth, you feel yourself at the edge of a precipice.

“Y-your fin-fingers. Deku-sama.” You frantically tug against your binds as you arch your hips rutting into his face. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You feel yourself drowning in pleasure when his fingers join back in the fray. You’re full, and his tongue is everywhere. Inside you along with his fingers, pressing in all the right places. There’s no room to be embarrassed by your body’s wet sounds as you thrust against his fingers or the sounds he’s eliciting from you — loud, throaty, and gluttonous. He laps up the juices wherever they end up, on your thighs, in your folds, the space between your pussy and ass. At your clit he teases with nibbles, quick flicks of his tongue, and long flat strokes. He was treating you like you were his favorite meal. Coming back for seconds, thirds, fourths. You lose track of time. The air crackles with electricity, Izuku, the electromagnet to your copper coils. It sparks against your skin. Were you doing that? You couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter because something was building. You feel it in your core, your quirk causing your atoms to buzz in excitement. He lets you hook your legs around his back, locking your ankles. You make a strangled noise when a particularly aggressive thrust combined with the head-splitting euphoria of Izuku’s tongue on your clit brings your Earth stuttering on its axis.

“Oh fuck, oh kami. Shit, Deku-sama!”

You flicker in and out. One second howling Izuku’s name like a prayer to the Gods, hips rolling up to meet his mouth. The next, you find yourself weightless in a void no longer in a corporeal form. What the fuck? It lasts no longer than a second before you return to your body and the sound of him cooing against your aching cunt.

“That’s it, cum villain. Cum for me.” And cum, you do. Waves of fiery ecstasy set your body aflame. You clench your fists and use your legs to pull Izuku’s face further flush against you. When you think you can catch your breath, Izuku surprises you by coaxing you into another smaller orgasm. You don’t know how he did it, but you really can’t complain, you’re feeling blissful as fuck. The bed creaks as he shifts back onto his knees, unwrapping your legs from around him. Blachwip is deactivated, and your arms fall uselessly to your sides. You feel your legs quiver from exertion, and you watch your chest rise in fall sporadically as your breathing levels off. You prop yourself up on your elbow to give Izuku a once over. He’s got a bit of sweat on his forehead, you can see the outline of his erection against the front of his hero costume, and your cum glistens on his nose, mouth, and chin. Not sure how you manage it, with your body feeling so close to putty, but you scoot back, pulling yourself up into a seated position, and rock forward onto your knees so you’re facing him.

You move closer, so your knees brush against his. Now that you’re close enough, you can see how blown his pupils are. They almost wholly eclipse the dark shamrock of his irises. He had it bad for you. You could fix that. You grab his chin between your thumb and forefinger, tilting it down to your lips so you can lick it clean. When your tongue traces the outline of his mouth, a low moan rumbles in the back of his throat. You get his mouth open with a hard nip to his bottom lip. Tasting yourself in his mouth and on his tongue makes you squeeze your thighs together briefly before you let your free hand wander between your legs to stroke your clit and moistening labia. You give the tip of his nose a cutesy peck that almost brings a blush to his freckled face, but he remains in character, so you palm his cock with your damp hand grinning devilishly when he stutters an exhale.

“I want you, hero.”

Izuku’s chuckle is rich, and you can feel it reverberate against where your chests connect. You start to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, the short buzz of his undercut tickles your fingertips. Sliding your hand up, you finally get to tangle your fist in his hair, your grip tightens, and you pull his head back, exposing his neck. Your tongue darts out to lick a stripe up to just below his earlobe, all the while your hand strokes him into fully hardening.

“I’m not fucking around, Deku.” Your voice is thick and your tone dark, dangerous. He grabs the wrist of the hand that’s between his legs and growls,

“Neither am I villain slut.” You swallow hard at his inflection on the word slut. You’d never been called a slut during sex, and under any other circumstance, you’re sure it wouldn’t have sent a thrill of arousal pulsing from your fingertips down to your toes. He brings the hand up above your head, reaching behind his head to grab your second hand. You give him a feral grin, and his eyes flash before he sends you to your back. You’re about to stretch out your legs when he commands you to flip over onto your hands and knees. You do as you’re told, biting your lip as warmth begins to once again pool between your legs. You wish you could help him out of his costume, but it sounds like your help wasn’t needed. His dick grazes against the back of your thighs. A finger follows the curve of your spine. You arch into the touch and moan when it dips at your hip to tap your clitoris.

“You’re so wet already. You villains really know nothing about bedroom decorum.” He skims a hand over your stomach, stopping to grope and tease your hardened nipples.

“Oh? Keeping a woman in suspense isn’t exactly proper in my book De-ku sa-ma.” You look over your shoulder with a smirk.

“You’re,” he thrust into you without warning, quickly turning the grin on your face into an open-mouthed ‘oh,’ “not,” he pulls out, so the tip of his head just barely touches your cunt, “a woman.” He pushes into you, swearing under his breath as you push your hips back to meet his momentum. A ragged breath escapes your lips as you adjust to him, filling you. Shit, the boy is thick. His nails dig into your hip as he continues to fuck you at a painfully slow pace. Fingers tweak your nipples, and you feel your whole body flush with pleasure. You clutch the bedsheets in two tight fists when he starts to quicken his thrusts. His chest is slick with sweat against your back, his tongue tracing circles into your shoulder. An aggressive stroke sends the head of his cock rubbing up against your G-spot, and you feel your walls squeeze around him.

“Shit, shit, fuck Deku. That’s it. Just keep putting pressure on that spot.” You feel your elbows buckle, and you expect to crash into the bed. Instead, black tendrils wrap around your arms to keep you upright. This is definitely not how Lariat intended Blackwhip’s tendrils to be used. The thought makes you giggle. It seems that this was not a sound Izuku wanted to hear coming from you. He bites down on the spot of your shoulder he’d been suckling, making his displeasure known. You feel him adjust himself behind you, perhaps too quickly, because he slips out of you, and you protest immediately with a loud whine.

“I’ll give you something to whine about.” He thrust back into you, your knees go weak, and your pussy’s stimulation begins to pull the taught rope of your impending orgasm closer to snapping. One of his hands grabs the hair at the base of your neck, tugging with just enough force to tease a guttural mewl from you.

“That’s more like it.” You’re so overstimulated, with the rhythm of his dick coming in and out of you. The attention he’s paying to your clit, you scarcely have the headspace to be shocked by the personality change. Izuku doesn’t release his hold on your hair; instead, he deactivates Blackwhip and uses the grip to guide you, so your back is flush against his chest. You can smell the muskiness of his sweat with him so close. It mingles in the air with the scent of your arousal. Sex, the whole room smelled heavily of your fucking. He brushes a thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down gently. You open your mouth, taking it in, holding it gently between your teeth, your lips acting as a cushion. You suck on Izuku’s thumb, letting your tongue swirl over the tip treating it how you would if you were instead sucking on the head of his cock. You hollow out your cheek and release his thumb with a satisfying pop. Your reward is the sound of Izuku’s heated gasp. The sound tightens the coil in your groin. You feel his right hand lightly trailing up your side. You expect him to stop to cup your breast, but a tingle runs up your spine when he skips it entirely. His thumb rests a few inches under your right ear, the fleshy part of his palm rests against your trachea, the remaining four fingers occupy the same spot under the opposite ear. You can’t hide your excitement as he begins to apply light pressure to your neck. It’s amplified when he whispers in your ear,

“Whose slut are you, villain?”

“I’m yours. All yours.” He squeezes a little tighter, and you squirm, gripping his left hip for stability.

“Yours, Deku-sama. I’m all yours.” You choke over the words while he loosens his grip satisfied with your correction. The brief bout of intoxicating lightheadedness dissipates quickly, but he keeps his hand around your neck.

You feel him, hard and slick, throbbing inside you, and you know he’s close. You prepare to ride out the coming crescendo that you’ll set off with your silver tongue.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you, hero? I can feel your cock pulsing.” He squeezes your neck tighter than he has before reminding you who was in charge. You dig your nails into his hip and bite your lip. Was he turning into a masochist, or were you?

“I want you to cum in me. Make me your bona fide villain bitch — think you’re up for it, big boy?” You were being so bold, goading him. It does the trick. He releases his hold on your neck, you’re a little sad, but are swiftly distracted by a sudden burst of heat and green energy crackling, the telltale sign of Full Cowl being activated. What the hell was he up to? Your answer comes moments later when his hands push your bent legs further apart, hooking his arms under your thighs to lift them up. You feel weightless, free, and so very wanton. Then like being dosed with ice-cold water, you come back to your senses; you’ve always been terrified of being picked up during sex. Your arms flail, searching for anything to grab hold of. They settle awkwardly at Izuku’s neck. Your breathing is a little erratic.

“You’re not scared of heights, are you?” Oh, he was being a total ass.

“Absolutely not.” You bite back.

“Heh.”

Sensing your discomfort, he places you back down on your knees, his hand returning to your neck — where it belonged. Shit, it was you, you’re the masochist. You feel him throb inside you, the head of his penis gets a little bigger and his cock harder. His movements become more sporadic. You take his free hand and lead it to your clit, you’d be damned if he cums before you. His groans become music to your ears, loud and ravenous as you roll your hips to meet his thrusts. Soon that’s all you can feel, like tunnel vision nothing else matters, there are no other options, but his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you as his fingers dance around your clit. He flicks and pulls, rubs circles, and you savor every second of it. Everything cumulates into a blinding flash of white-hot light as if you’re staring directly at burning magnesium. You hear him crying out your name, and it mixes with your carnal pleas into a cacophonous soundtrack to your mutual climax. He finishes inside you, the thick viscous liquid of his orgasm, filling you with more warmth than you anticipated. As you ride out your orgasm, you don’t stop gyrating your hips until you feel Izuku become soft. You let out a shaky breath as you come to a stop to catch your breath. You’re thankful that he doesn’t seem eager to pull out quite yet while you bask in the quiet exhilaration of having orgasmed three times this night.

“I’m going to pull out now, okay?”

You nod your head slightly, words out of reach with your euphoria’s hum still clouding your mind. Cum trickles down between your thighs, the sensation almost ticklish, but far more erotic. With nothing connecting you to Izuku, your body gives in to its exhaustion, falling forward unceremoniously. He wraps an arm around your waist, setting you gently down on your stomach. Rolling onto your back, you shimmy up onto a pillow to support your head. You glance up at Izuku and sigh in content. Hair stuck to his head, abs contracting as he slows his breathing (his heart rate close to 180bpm), and his left-hand traces the scars on his right arm absently. Even in such a worn-out state, he looked otherworldly. You lock eyes, and you pat his side of the bed next to you.

“Cuddle with me.” At hearing those three words, he sheds his façade, his eyes soften, his jaw loosens, and he eagerly obliges your request. He rests his head on your chest, your fingers playing with his hair as he gently brushes your side. You stay like this for a few minutes until he starts out of your arms like someone’s lit a fire under his ass. He sits up, you follow suit intrigued by what’s got him so worked up. You watch him reach across towards his nightstand. He pulls out a notebook and a pencil. You have to suppress your snort as he begins scribbling furiously. You couldn’t even pretend to be surprised, catching bits and pieces of his muttering.

“. . . dominated . . . choking . . . loud . . . buns of steel. . .” You can’t stifle the laugh that escapes you. He glances up and gives you a sheepish grin, his face like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“You fucked me into another dimension, jot that down in your sex notebook.” A blush erupts across his face.

“I-I what? Seriously?”

“Mhmm, as seriously as my orgasm.” Embarrassment flickers momentarily in his eyes, quickly replaced by intense curiosity. You dare say you see a little triumphant gleam too.

“What happened, tell me everything, love.” You recount what he’d been doing with his tongue and fingers. The feeling leading up to it and what it looked like in this other dimension.

“Sounds like you’ve unlocked another facet of your quirk.”

“Looks like it, but it’s not really useful.” He gives you an inquiring look; you roll your eyes. He could be so dense sometimes.

“I can’t exactly have you eating me out in public every time I want to astral project now, can I?” His blush returns full force.

“Maybe there’s another way.”

“Possibly, but I’m beat. My legs feel like jello, and I’m starting to feel sore.” You massage your neck, glancing at your exposed breasts and the marks that speckle them. Izuku looks at you with worry.

“You can’t fix it with your quirk?”

“I can, but where’s the fun in that? One of my favorite parts of sex is feeling it the next day. I’m definitely going to tomorrow and maybe the day after thanks to you.” You give him a wink and admire as he fumbles with his words.

“Oh! Well, I mean. Yeah. No problem. I think?” He was definitely back to being your cinnamon roll. You giggle quietly.

“Before I go clean up, I’ve gotta know. How did you do that.” You motion with your hand, hoping he picks up what you’re putting down. He does.

“Simple, lots of research.” You squint at him, touching the pulse at his neck. It was slightly elevated.

“Ah-huh, and what else?”

“No-nothing!” The pulse quickens a little more.

“Did you role play with someone?” The idea sounds absolutely preposterous, but when he pushes your hand away from his neck and gets up off the bed, you know you’ve struck a nerve.

“You’re using your quirk, that’s not fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war. So, who was it with? Shoto? Eiji? Or was it Katsuki ?” The light hue of pink that creeps up his neck is all the confirmation you need.

“Ah,” you bob your head sagely, “it makes sense, babe, he gives off a total masochist vibe. I’d have practiced with him too. What was it like? Would he be open to a threesome? Or would it be a foursome since he’s got that not, so secret thing going with Eiji? Could I even handle the three of you?” You wonder out loud.

“(Y/N)!” Izuku rushes into the bathroom, adamantly trying to end this conversation. You weren’t letting this go, oh no siree, so you get out of bed and walk to the bathroom where Izuku’s turned on the shower and is standing under its current.

“Nice try. You’re giving me the details.” He sighs defeatedly.

“Can it wait until we’re in the bath.” You cross your arms in a huff, pouting.

“I guess.” Izuku grabs you, pulling you into the shower with him. You wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his chest. He gives the top of your head a kiss.

“Happy birthday, (Y/N).”

Happy fucking birthday to me. You smile to yourself.

#bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #midoriya izuku #midoriya fic #reader is female #reader insert #midoriya fluff #the gift that keeps on giving

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wincore · 4 years ago

Text

vixen | nakamoto yuta

pairing: kitsune!yuta x female!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: every year, you visit the fox who claims to know everything about you.

genre: fantasy/folklore, fluff, angst(?)

warnings: suggestive, mention of past bullying, one excessively flirty nakamoto yuta

song rec(s): clear and sunny - sou (cover)

a/n: this is for all you furries who aren’t quite furries yet muah (im joking) but aaaa love exploring folklore and also i should put in a disclaimer that not every aspect adheres to the original tales of the kitsune <3 i did not proofread btw and i am very sorry

Some things never change.

Examples: boys, shitty friends, death, and the scent of nostalgia. To you, that very scent happens to be the earthy smell of chrysanthemums and a faint waft of spices from the kitchen in your parents’ house. To you, October is not just another month. To you, there is one more thing that never changes and it is not your belief in old ghost stories.

Around this time of the year, the autumn festival begins in a flurry of vibrant red smudges and a whiff of excitement, in streets suddenly brought alive. The skies are candied orange, and it’s the only time you aren’t tired of home. This time is also when you find yourself right in the clutches of the one demon you swore you’d avoid for the rest of your life. You swore. It’s not your fault that said demon is a little, let’s say, tempting.

Tempting in the most vexing, infuriating way possible. Bewitching, cruel, seducing—all that foxes are and all that you’ve heard of them could not have prepared you for an encounter. Folklore runs deep through you. The memories of a certain fox-boy run deeper.

It is not the festival you are here for.

You yawn, leaning against the wooden door frame of the shop. It would be inappropriate to fall asleep on the job, especially since there are a bunch of children staring idly at you. You close your mouth quickly, resting the back of your hand against your lips. Late afternoon is an easy time to fall asleep. You have half the mind to snarl at the kids to scare them off, their gaze getting on your nerves and when you think you will, you turn the other way. Manners come first to you, no matter how temperamental you get.

The procession has gathered a crowd. Some shouts and squeals from the children make you slump further. At least they’re having fun with whatever stupid game they’re playing. You breathe in the autumn air. A part of you wonders if you simply let your feet lead you down the stairs, you’d be free of this entire ordeal. You shake your head. Temptation has always been hard to resist—never meant to be resisted but you’re much older now. There is dignity to be answered.

October is mild—your grandmother’s shop is still on the verge of collapse, your mother still yells at you for misplacing kitchen utensils and your old friends from school still gossip about who you’re dating. It’s like the script never changes; people change the meaning, twist their words in the same old pattern. If you were a little less behaved, you would have poured your drink over their heads yesterday.

You clench your jaw. It’s always an ‘Oh, you’re so attractive’ and an ‘I wish I could date as many men as you do but I’m loyal to my boyfriend’, or even a ‘Must be nice being surrounded by boys all the time’. You know what they mean. It’s not the first time you’ve been called a fox, and you don’t think it’ll be the last—at least until you decide to stop letting your hometown suffocate you. Maybe you’ll accept what they say. You have heard of what hatred left unchecked can do.

If you’re honest, you haven’t been with too many men. If you’re a little more honest, none of them have ever made your heart race.

You watch the children play with a keen eye, their painted masks ridiculously large for their faces and in brightly coloured clothes contrasting well with the town. You might not be allowed to fall asleep, but there’s nothing against closing your eyes for a second or two.

The image of glinting yellow eyes and a fanged smile pop up and you quickly open your eyes. You don’t know why your heart beats so loud at the mere thought of him, thoughts in which his lips are full and painted red, and his bright smile is stretched upon them. Sometimes, the thought of him is in gentle washes, his hand fixing your hair, or a flirty smile when you dare stumble upon him on a particularly sleepless night. You shake your head to get rid of the thought. That is not love. Some sort of embarrassing attraction, maybe. However, the friendship you have is worse.

“I see you’re a slacker as always.”

Your grandmother’s voice breaks you out of your cycle of thoughts and you’re almost grateful.

“I sold approximately zero sweets,” you snort. “Why can’t we just do away with the shop?”

“You’re starting to sound like your mother,” your grandma calls from behind one of the counters, distaste ringing clear in her voice.

You sigh. “Fine, but… you work way too hard to make these for them to not sell.”

“Maybe they would sell if a certain little lady would stay and help.”

You groan, leaning your head back. “You know I have work in the city.”

Your grandmother waves her hand about, dismissing your reasoning. She fiddles around in the shadows for a bit before coming forward with more boxes than she should be able to hold.

“You don’t have to feel too guilty. Yuta’s been helping out,” your grandmother informs fondly. “You could learn a thing or two from him.”

You’re not the superstitious sort and yet still, your heart beats faster. For him, or for the bad omens foxes bring to a household—you don’t know.

You scoff instead. “He’s not as great a guy as you think, grandma. He can be really mean too!”

“Oh, I doubt that. Have you seen his smile? Impossible.” Your grandmother waves it off before drawing nearer, voice hushed without reason. “Have you thought about it then? He is handsome, isn’t he?”

“Grandma.”

You’re not sure what old women go through in their youth that makes them something of a matchmaker in their later years. You think the whole ordeal is messed up. There is no way you’re going to stick your nose into your grandchildren’s love life; it’s gross.

“These should be enough for the children, no?” Your grandmother asks and you look up.

“You’re giving them away for free?” you question, furrowing your eyebrows. “And you talk about bad business.”

She places her hand on her hip, pointing an accusatory finger. “You’re going to lecture your grandmother?”

You raise your hands up in defeat, standing up to help her with the red boxes of acorn candy and paper wraps of roasted chestnuts. You end up with the entire load in your arms, your grandmother happily shuffling about as she locks up the store.

You turn sharply at the surprised sound behind you. The evening has settled in and glowing lanterns bring forward the evidence, the darkening streets flooding with round droplets of light.

But it is not the festival you are looking at.

Yuta looks somewhat serene, your cheeks heating up despite yourself. You look at him with bated breath, hoping the boxes obscure your face enough to make the vaguely positive emotions less evident. The dark red jacket draped over his shoulder does not look out of place—in fact, he fits in so well you would’ve mistaken him for another face in the crowd if he weren’t stupidly gorgeous. He looks at you with no strong emotion in the eyes before breaking into a smile; and when his hand strokes the top of your head as a greeting, he seems fond. He always does.

“Grandma,” he calls with his best smile, turning to the old woman.

Your grandmother doesn’t need any more convincing of his character.

“Oh, there you are! Did I tell you (name)’s back? I wanted to break the news to you earlier. Ah…I must have forgotten.”

You glance from Yuta to her. Is this another one of her tricks and tests?

“She’s always here this time of the year,” he responds, laughing politely.

“Ah, you remembered,” she says, eyes crescent as she smiles back. “Help her with the boxes. The city has made her so frail.”

“I’m good,” you choke on the words, hurriedly moving away and almost dropping one of the boxes.

You slip on your sandals and scurry off faster, wishing he’d just stay behind. He always has. The air makes you shiver but you’re adamant; and it’s not the only trait of yours to make relationships fail.

“You know, you should be nicer to old friends.”

You try not to react when Yuta takes the boxes from you, matching your pace almost effortlessly.

“I thought foxes ran away once they’re found out,” you snap, reluctantly letting him take the packages.

Yuta rolls his eyes. “I see you still aren’t very fond of me.”

“Not when you’re tricking my grandmother like this,” you hiss.

“You call helping trickery?” he retaliates.

“Foxes bring bad business,” you mutter.

“I’m the reason your grandmother’s business is somewhat above the water.”

You sigh, exasperated. There’s no point in wasting your breath. You look away, crossing your arms as you walk, the silence between the two of you suddenly awkward. Even so, you’re not going to open your mouth for him.

“Would you two slow down?” your grandmother calls, voice weary. “We’re already there.”

The two of you halt in your tracks immediately, taking mellow steps back to her. She looks over the two of you with furrowed eyebrows and you try to think of an explanation when she starts laughing.

“Oh, I don’t mind the two of you flirting,” she says, littered with slow laughter. “Just make sure the food is where it’s supposed to be.”

You’re about to refute when Yuta laughs, the sound still boyish and lively. “Of course. (name) missed me so much this year, she couldn’t help herself.”

You give him a pointed look which he ignores, deliberately or not. “We- I wasn’t—”

“Grandmother, if you’ll give us permission,” he interrupts, settling the packages on the table by the food stall and smiling wide. “We’ll go enjoy the festival now.”

She bobs her head in affirmation and Yuta grabs your hand to pull you into the bustling street, your silent plea for help ignored by your smug grandmother.

“What are you doing?” you ask, slipping your hand from his. “You aren’t- You aren’t trying to eat my liver, are you?”

“Why the liver? Can’t I have the rest of you too?”

It’s not like you were particularly alarmed but his response makes you feel a flush of embarrassment.

“It’s been a year since I last saw you,” he says before his voice turns a shade cooler. “Have you thought about my proposal?”

You fall silent. The overthinking started last year too. Your thoughts and dreams, so easily pervaded by him and all it took was one sentence.

“We should get married.”

“Why did you even think I’d agree to that?” You try not to get too flustered. He knows all your petty weaknesses and you’d rather not have them on display for him to stare and pick at. “What the fuck would I get out of marrying you?”

Yuta whistles. “I like your tongue. But—yes, to answer your question, you’d get a very handsome and capable husband. Your bed will always be warm and oh, speaking of beds—”

You clamp your hand over his mouth at the suggestive look he sends, worried about being spotted by one of your school friends. Ah, right—friends, the very same people that smell of jealousy and won’t miss any opportunity to throw a jab your way. Friends. You can’t believe you’re still afraid of their judgement.

“And why do you want to get married to me?” you ask, looking into his eyes.

There’s a pause, filled with the chatter of the crowd.

“You look like you’re afraid of finding someone,” he speaks finally, ignoring your question. “Or is it the other way around?”

You roll your eyes, ready to walk off when he grabs your wrist to pull you closer to his chest. It draws some looks from nearby people, your eyes darting from face to face in fear. You take a deep breath and look at Yuta again, almond eyes distracting.

“People will think we’re lovers,” you whisper, almost a hiss.

“What’s wrong with that?”

You breathe out in disbelief. “You’re really something.”

“What? Why did you always come to meet me then? Behind the keyaki tree?”

“It wasn’t for you,” you lie quickly. “I had nothing better to do.”

Pining after a fox? You could never have feelings for him. Even so, your answer comes off childish and silly, and somehow he’s the only one to be able to draw that side of you—the you that is messy and unprepared.

Yuta smiles in return. “You think people can’t fall in love with us the same way they fall in love with most everything.”

It’s a statement, not a question.

“How conservative of you,” he leaves with an airy remark, but not before urging you to follow him.

The sizzling sound of food being fried and the knocking, clicking sound of children playing games, all these forgotten sounds grow louder and for a second, if only you let yourself, you could close your eyes and it would be just like your first date.

No. It’s different. You look up, eyes trailing over Yuta’s back, his golden hair, how his figure moves with ease and confidence.

It is different.

You raise an eyebrow at the box of takoyaki Yuta shoves towards you, an expecting look across his face.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asks, an uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice.

You hum in response, taking the box from him and saving yourself the trouble of asking whether he paid for it or simply charmed his way through.

“Eh, no thank you?” he complains. “How polite.”

You scrunch your nose to accompany an exaggerated smile and he laughs, the two of wandering over the asphalt streets. Your hands are close enough to brush—and if a twenty-something year-old woman can feel jittery because of it, hands truly are meant to share warmth. The smell of candy and caramel fills the air, making you smile. You’ve saved enough for the taste of home, you think.

The taste of home.

Inevitably, the thought of kissing your companion crosses your mind and you stop in your tracks. Whatever. It must be natural when someone as attractive is beside you. Those aren’t feelings. You curse yourself for feeling like a teenager again.

The festival grounds aren’t as shabby as you expect them to be. The city,—if you could call this one—stops here and the earth spreads out to the forest behind. The crowd also thins, and you take a fresh breath. They’re selling old books in the corner, but no one seems to be there.

“The raccoon dogs,” Yuta whispers in your ear, with an arcane smile. “Want to visit those rascals?”

You roll your eyes. He knows you’ve heard one too many folktales for a lifetime, seen one too many. It’s time to go home, especially now that the thought of thanking him crosses your mind. You’re about to turn when your shoulder crashes into someone else’s. A surprised, syrupy smile greets you, which you cannot return for the first few moments. Yui’s smile wavers and you flash her a quick smile. A friend. Her arm is looped through her lover’s, the one she never shuts up about and suddenly the urge to pour water over her head returns.

Yuta glances from you to her before pressing his lips together, as if suppressing laughter. You’re almost offended when Yui laughs flippantly.

“You’re on a date too? I knew you couldn’t stand spending the festival alone,” she says, tugging her lover closer.

People have always told you who you are and what you do. As if they know better.

You smile awkwardly. “It’s… actually not—”

“Oh, don’t be shy.” She gently pats your shoulder before leaning in. “He’s a real catch. As expected from you. You can never leave the boys alone.”

You know what she really means. You’ve heard the same words in high school when she was shoving you into a wall behind the school. The sickening smile is still on her face.

You gulp, feeling sixteen again. The lack of people around somehow makes it more awkward and you’re about to excuse yourself when suddenly, Yuta bumps into Yui and his warm drink spills over her left shoulder. Your eyes widen, more in confusion. When did he leave? You don’t doubt his ability to sneak past people, but surely you couldn’t have been so enraptured in your own feelings that you barely noticed.

“I’m so sorry,” Yuta says, voice honeyed with surprise.

Yui looks like she’s about to explode when she looks at him, her expression dropping to a calmer one almost immediately.

It’s an easy look to recognize. They always have it when they first meet Yuta, whether it’s the smile that’s too dazzling or the pretty round eyes.

How persuasive, those eyes.

“Ah… I must have not seen you,” she says faintly, and Yuta’s smile widens.

Before he can stir up more trouble, you slip your arm into his and pull him away, not caring for another polite apology to an old, almost nameless face.

“I was having fun,” Yuta complains, voice still smug and calm.

You glare at him and it only seems to add fuel to the fire, to whatever cold fire dances at his fingertips.

“You’re happy, right? Don’t look at me like that. You should reward me.”

You don’t respond, looking away and hoping to get at least a word in about how troublesome he is every single time you visit. Yuta has other plans, however. Leaning his head to look you in the eye, he maintains a distance which looks perfectly decent but feels less than so.

“How about a kiss? I deserve one, don’t I?” He moves his head closer to yours, making you shy away.

You grab him by the belt and pretend to not catch a glimpse of the pleased look on his face as you drag him into a secluded part by the forest.

It’s quieter here, so much that you can almost hear your own heart drumming in your chest, and the faint light of the distant festival grounds doesn’t help much at all. It’s dark as dusk, and you can only make out Yuta’s jawline and a faint smirk over his lips. You think that if a fox ever wanted to eat your liver, this would be the perfect spot.

“You did something,” you finally utter the words. “You did something to me.”

“Why do you think I did something? Do you mean love?” he responds with a cheeky smile. “This means you’ve been thinking about me? How cute—”

“Yuta, stop it,” you warn.

“Or what? You should stop me yourself.”

You grab the lapels of his jacket, the cloth bunching as your knuckles turn white. The anger you feel isn’t the first of its kind—it’s just a little funny how it’s always Yuta every time, making you remember the burning feeling time and time again. You find yourself unable to respond.

“Oh, don’t hold back,” he provokes, leaning in.

You push at his chest in exasperation, but he grabs your wrists before you can retract your hands.

“Scared?” he whispers.

You pull apart anyway, a scowl over your lips. “You’re as annoying as ever. Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”

“Ooh! Sharp claws. You’d be lovely as my fox-bride.” he teases.

Your face flares with heat. “I’m not your… I’m not a fox.”

“I didn’t say a fox, I said—”

“I know what you said,” you snap, massaging your wrist so you don’t have to look at him.

Yuta falls quiet for a moment, voice lower when he speaks again.

“Is it so nasty to be called a fox? There are worse things, you know.”

You scoff, growing increasingly annoyed. “Of course you’d say that. I hate it. I hate this town. I hate foxes and I hate you.”

Yuta places a hand over his chest, gasping with no emotion. Your eyes linger over his long, painted nails a little longer before you meet his eyes. A part of you regrets saying the words but you couldn’t help it. The shroud choking your hometown makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs every time you’re here. You hate this place.

But you don’t hate him, after all.

You try to clear yourself of the thought. A gentle gust of wind brings you back to the present, Yuta still glancing at you with no giveaway to what he’s feeling.

“You wouldn’t make a terrible fox though,” he says, eyes sharp. “Don’t they know you’re a vixen already? How many livers will you eat?”

You suck in a breath, tears stinging at your eyes. However, it’s not like you to get so easily affected by him. No. No, somehow that doesn’t make sense either. Those words do hurt from Yuta and you’re not sure if it’s just because he's the only one you didn’t expect them from.

“You…”

“What? Aren’t you going to lash at me again? You’re so predictable.”

His voice is calm despite your obvious annoyance and you feel flames lick at your heart. Your hand moves before you can think, about to meet his cheek when he grabs your wrist. You struggle, trying to pull free but to no avail and you use the other hand to hit him in the chest. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t bother him and that same feline smile curves up his lips.

You feel something you haven’t before, a warm growl at the pit of your stomach.

You push with all your strength, catching Yuta off guard and he stumbles backward but not before pulling you into him. Consequently, either of you lose footing and land on the grass with a sudden thud, Yuta’s side pressed against yours. His hands still clutch your wrist, and he shifts to hover over you.

“We used to wrestle like this as a litter,” he says, erupting into full laughter. “Ah, memories. I don’t even know if they’re alive or dead now.”

Yuta is much stronger than he looks, and he’s taken your tantrum as a source of amusement much to your infuriation. He has your hands pinned back, eyes unaffected as he scans over your face. You try to shift but there’s just too much weight on you. You breathe slowly, chest rising and falling in time with his. His earrings sway gently in the wind, dangling a few inches above you—he’s pretty, so pretty. Admitting defeat has never been your forte but now that your senses are gathering again, you feel a flush of embarrassment for losing your temper.

Or perhaps, it is something else when you register the lack of distance between your noses.

“Playtime’s over,” Yuta coos. “You’re kinda cute when you’re losing.”

He tilts his head, an adoring smile over his lips. For a moment, they’re all you see.

Can a fox comfort you? Can a fox make you feel loved on the darkest of nights? Your mind races with questions your heart does not want to answer.

Yuta leans in to close the distance and despite every nerve in your body, you turn your head away. You can hear him gulp, the following moments painfully quiet before he gets up. Your breath is soft and shallow, lying on the ground till you get enough courage to sit up.

You almost gasp. His tails are clearer under the dim moonlight, all nine of them golden and luxurious. The light hitting his face isn’t any less flattering and once again you are reminded of how handsome he is, fairytale or not.

Yuta looks uncomfortable, and that’s a first for you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, though you don’t know why.

He waves his hand dismissively, annoyed.

“Yuta,” you take a step forward.

“I see the way you look at me,” he says quietly, “Is it not want?”

You fall silent, biting your lip so you don’t retort violently. He doesn’t look particularly malicious when he says that but you do not want to give him the satisfaction of an answer yet.

He quietens for a moment before a look of curiosity flashes across his features.

“What is it then?” he asks. “Is it a secret? Foxes love secrets. Tell me.”

Despite every bone in your body burning up, you find it in yourself to laugh.

“I don’t think I could keep a secret from you if I tried,” you finally say, before bursting into soft laughter again.

Yuta looks at you puzzled, lips parted while he stands frozen as if he were a painting. A daunting, reckless, heavenly painting.

“It’s not want,” you answer quietly. “It’s more than that. Even if I hated it. I like you.”

Yuta’s ears perk up at your confession. “So- so you admit, then? You are interested?”

“I could blame you for this, you know?” You shrug, hugging yourself once the night starts to feel cold again. Yuta begins to take off his jacket when you stop him, gently pressing your palm against his chest.

“You’re a fox, after all,” you whisper. “Like me. What they think of me.”

Yuta purses his lips. “Does it really hurt you? No, wait. Did they- did they—”

“Now, you tell me,” you cut him off. “Why do you insist on getting married—to me?”

There’s a pause. The crickets chirp a merry tune despite the leisurely darkness of the night.

“You’re not terrible,” he says, nonchalantly.

You glare at him and he raises his hands in defeat. He looks wearier the more you look at him.

“I want to grow old,” he mumbles after a long pause. “Properly.”

You hold your breath.

“And you want to do it with me?”

Another flower blooms in your chest, as if he hasn’t planted a garden in there already. The lights from the festival flicker down, the lanterns burning brighter in the distance. He glances at them for a moment, your eyes still fixated on him.

The tails glow even brighter in the dark, as if gold in broad daylight. You’ve always been curious about him and his kind, all the stories; but he says he’s too old to remember if you ask.

You reach out to touch one of the tails, wondering if the fur is as warm as it looks. They’re pale and captivating, but they look so soft—they shouldn’t belong to an animal so vicious. Is he, though? Is he all that you think he is or have all these years failed you? If anything, he’s quite probably not as much a fox as you are, you think bitterly.

The fur is warm, but the realization is short-lived.

A short growl leaves the corner of his mouth. Yuta glares at you like he was stolen from and yet, you do not move your hand. Some part of you wants to aggravate him further.

“I’m not a pet,” he snaps. “Stop that.”

“You should stop me yourself,” you mimic his voice.

Yuta’s shoulders relax, and he looks down but you can still see the trembling smile on his face. It’s the way he looks at you, you think to yourself, maybe that's the reason after all.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say, feeling warmer than the autumn night should allow.

“Like what?” he asks, still smiling.

You look away.

“You’re not too fox-like, you know?” you mumble. “You’re just annoying. And flirty. And annoying.”

Yuta chuckles, before pressing his palm to the top of your head.

“And you’re lovely.”

You give in to the gesture of affection, leaning your head to press against his shoulder.

“Why do you even do all this? What do you get out of it?” you say, voice muffled. He hears you clearly, however.

“Because I love you,” he responds, as if coming to terms with it himself. “More than you think.”

There is no joke, no flirtation to his tone, no decoration upon his words. It’s plain, and laid bare. And sometimes, simplicity is scariest.

You pull back, lips pulled into a frown. The air is cold once more; the longing for warmth flowing into you. The silence is worse.

“You don't believe foxes can fall in love,” he states softly upon a wavering smile. “I knew that. Of course.”

A part of him believes it too.

“I…” you begin, and for the first time, you are afraid of promises in the name of love. You are the one making them now.

“I’ll believe you,” you whisper, “I’ll believe you so please… please take care of me.”

You place your palm against his cheek, his skin bewitchingly warm.

“Only if you take care of me,” he whispers back, leaning in.

This time, you do not move.

The lovers’ kiss you’d been searching for—lovers’ warmth, lovers’ comfort—all of it comes crashing down once Yuta tightens his arm around your waist, the other hand resting gently at the base of your neck. He kisses with the right amount of pressure, the vague taste of sweet berries in his mouth.

You used to fear his touch, like he would eat you whole; even if they have been gentle, always. This time, you might as well let him. He presses his lips from your cheek to jaw to neck, lingering at each spot enough to make you clutch at his shirt tighter, taking in short gasps of breath. You kiss for a little longer, like time means nothing.

“We should go back,” you whisper, pulling apart.

Yuta kisses you again, the distance unacceptable.

“Yuta—”

He kisses you once more, your calls falling on deaf ears.

Finally, after another long kiss, he pulls apart enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

“It must have been hard for you,” he mumbles.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you scoff.

“Foxes are faithful lovers, you know?” he insists.

You laugh. “What do you mean?”

“It means I’ll follow you everywhere.”

He stands up straight, his thumb stroking your cheek as he bites back a smile.

“I don’t think we should get back tonight,” he suggests all of a sudden. “We could book a hotel. That’s the place you use these days, right? I’m sure your grandmother will understand your absence—”

You groan, resting your forehead against his shoulder and he presents a delighted laugh in return. It is warm by his side; he is warm. You find it easy to forget the failures in love, the loneliness of a lover that isn’t meant to be yours. Folktales are just long tales, after all. You smile to yourself.

You should’ve known—it was the fox all along.

418 notes · View notes

a-detraque-barista · 4 years ago

Text

Bread and Blood

Yandere Vampire Jimin x Reader

Genre: Yandere, Horror, Angst

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: blood, abuse, anxiety, insecurity, yandere themes, mentions of religion, reader getting ignored??

A/N: Hello hello everyone~ this took me s o long cause it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written but I hope you enjoy~ @strwbrry-lia

(I created the aesthetic myself 😊)

“Now now, Blood Bag. No need to get emotional over someone like him” whispered the blood-sucking monster that stood in front of you. Blood Bag. That was the ‘cute’ nickname he had come up with for you. The man in front of you wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The same hand that he put on your shoulder to make you look at him. “Why don’t you stop crying over that good-for-nothing for one second, and tell me what you were doing.”

Even though he used the word ‘why’, it was not a question. It was a command. Living with him for five months has taught you what different tones of voice he had. It was a wide range and some blurred with others making you tread lightly at those times. But right now, you knew you needed to respond correctly.

“I was just going to pack my things and bring them back home,” you choked through your tears as you tried your best to sound convincing.

“Tsk tsk, blood bag. We’ve talked about lying and that it’s bad. Haven’t we?” his grip on your shoulders became tighter as his red orbs stared into yours.

When you didn’t respond he repeated his question, “Haven’t we, blood bag?” His hand that was still covered in blood trailed the slope of your neck and wrapped his fingers to where you were struggling to breathe.

You quickly nodded. His fingers eased but did not leave the scarred and bruised skin. His eyes landed on the bite marks he’s left and couldn’t help the shiver slither up his spine. You were doing things to him that no one else could. Ever since he found you broken and beaten in this very building, his infatuation for you has only grown. How this happened, you have no clue. From the first time he bit you, you’ve been trying to leave his clutches. But you have no home, the only friend you had is now lying on the floor dead, and your family hates you. However, finding a place to stay wasn’t the only difficult part. The undead, blood-sucker wouldn’t let you leave.

“You always seem to be up in the clouds. Tell me, blood bag, what are you thinking about?” he spoke in his usual sickly sweet tone, masking the beast that was hiding.

“Thinking about how I got here,” you confessed and finally noticed you were back in the living room you’ve had to sit in for so many months.

“Well, that’s easy,” he stepped impossibly closer with his hands now cupping your face. “I saved you.”

⠽ ⡰⠑ ⠍⡠⠑

Tonight was no ordinary night. Tonight was Halloween. One of the most liked holidays. When kids go trick or treating and teenagers along with adults get drunk. Frights and screams are all around except for your little apartment at the edge of town. Your apartment was cold and dreary as you sat curled in your favorite corner. You were waiting impatiently for the inevitable beating that was coming for you. The knocks at your door went ignored as you cowered behind your bed.

An hour of waiting ended in a thunderous pounding at your door. Covering your ears did nothing to drown out the loud banging. Suddenly, in the middle of your panic-filled mind, you think of the fire escape outside of your bathroom window. You just had to get your legs to work before you could carry out your scattered plan.

Using the bed to help you up, you slowly and shakily make your way to your bathroom. You groaned internally as you realized this was the window your landlord had warned you about. It was the one that got stuck and needed force with special angling. You’ve never opened this window so you had no idea how to open it. Your fear overcame your pessimism making you try your best to get the window open.

After time and time again, you couldn’t open the damn thing. Stepping back and taking a deep breath, you tried to calm down. You heard the door bust open making your head snap to the bathroom door that was still ajar. Quickly closing and locking it, you tried prying open the window again.

Someone was looking out for you up there because the window had finally budged, allowing you to crawl out and onto the rusted fire escape. You shut the window closed just in time as you saw your father burst through that door. Flipping him off, you climbed down quickly and into the alleyway. You began to run as fast as you could, already knowing your father was only now exiting the front door of the building.

You ran and ran. Even as your lungs began to burn and your legs aching, you kept running. The bruises and cuts on your face and stomach hurt more than anything at that point. You knew you couldn’t stop until you found somewhere he wouldn’t find you. Where no one would find you.

Then, the old abandoned warehouse where thirteen people mysteriously died came into view. Practically skidding to a stop, you were panting while contemplating if you should go in. Convincing yourself it would only be for the night, you squeeze through the wood that blocked the main door.

The air was no colder than your apartment so the clothes you had on were more than enough. You sat down on the floor next to the door that read ‘office’. The letters were faded and there were small bits of them missing. If you remembered correctly, this factory was almost seventy-five years old. The broken windows and cracked foundation proved as support for your guess.

After catching your breath, you stood up to head into the office. Looking around to see if anything was interesting. As nothing popped out at you, making your way upstairs seemed to be a good idea. That was until you saw him.

The man wasn’t necessarily tall, but he was still taller than you. His back was turned towards you but you could see the terror on the girl’s face that noticed you. Tears were rushing down her features as she winced in pain. Her voice was lost when she tried calling to you for help. Her face paled and her eyes rolled back. The woman’s body dropped to the floor and the man inhaled deeply. You heard the hitch in his breath and you backed away as slowly as you could manage. Unfortunately, glass crunched beneath the heel of your shoe. Without thinking for too long, you turned around and sprinted back down the stairs.

“Fuck no, not doing that shit,” you mumbled to yourself as you tried to exit the factory as fast as you could.

You felt a hand grab the back of your hoodie causing you to fall onto your back with a grunt. Turning over to your side to ease some of the pain in your back, you see a pair of shiny black dress shoes stand in front of you. With the tip of his foot, he pushed onto your shoulder so he could see your face better. His head tilted to the side, causing his hair to show more of his eyes that were glowing. The crimson color almost distracted you from the rest of his face.

His jawline was sharp and tilted up slightly as if he was looking down at you in a more demeaning way. His full lips that were covered in drying blood tugged into a smirk. He hummed as if thinking about what to do next. He planted his foot back down on the concrete floor before crouching down. You had to admit, the murderous man was even more handsome up close but you sadly couldn’t focus on him right now.

Your head began to feel light and fuzzy the more you looked at the man. Closing your eyes maybe wasn’t the best idea, but your head was suddenly submerged in pain. You moved the hand that was gripping the opposite shoulder to your head. It did nothing to take away the pain but there’s not much you could do as a killer stood above you, planning to do who knows what.

“Don’t worry, blood bag. I’m not gonna do anything to you...yet,” you heard his honey-like voice before feeling him wrap his arms around you. “My name’s Jimin, and you’re going to love your new hell.”

⤐ ⤐ ⤐ ⤐

Five months later and you were in, just as he said, hell. You have scars from his fangs all over, fatigue from blood loss, and an appalling adoration for the man who has brought you to his home. What he called home, you called hell. Not only were you used as livestock, but you were tormented by the fact you had fallen for your shepherd.

You hated calling him by his name because you thought it fit him so well and rolled off your tongue like it was meant to. So you called him anything but his name.

He was still locked up in his room like always and you’ve already ventured the enormous house, there was practically nothing to do. You’ve been staring at the wall so often you can no longer sit on the couch, where you’re certain has an ass print from you. Nothing in this mansion intrigued you anymore. Should you maybe...leave the house? You’ve never attempted to leave since you figured he would punish you for it. But how would he know if he’s always in his room or workspace?

You got up from your bed to look into the closet of wonders you’ve never bothered looking through. You just see a comfy set of clothes and go with that since you don’t do anything. Luckily, you found an outfit that matched your style. You didn’t have any money so it would just be a walk around the town, and getting to know exactly which town you were in.

It was a lot easier leaving than you thought was possible with a vampire living there. The house was on an isolated street but you saw old and rusted signs pointing towards the town. It was maybe a twenty-minute walk with you humming and slightly tripping over nothing. It was nice to finally get out of that suffocating house and go for a walk. The air was brisk and made your lungs feel like they were fully inflating.

Once you got to the main road of the city, many people were seen walking. Either by themselves or with children. The day was nice but it seemed there was an event going on. Crowds weren’t your thing so you decided to keep exploring the quaint town.

Walking by bakeries, craft stores, and many other family-owned shops. It was all different to you, having lived in bigger cities your whole life. You were walking by the only bookstore you’ve seen so far and decided to go in. It smelled of old paper and incense. Tall aisles were filled with any genre you could think of and more. You couldn’t remember the last time you were in a bookstore.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” a deep voice broke you from your thoughts as you turned towards the man it came from.

“Oh, no, just looking. Thank you though,” you smile slightly before continuing your way to the back where the sign read ‘Folklore’.

“Well, it’s just that I’ve never seen you around town before. You just move here?” he followed you while asking his question.

“Yeah,” you didn’t feel like talking at this point.

“I figured. Well if you need someone to show you around I’d be more than happy to-”

“Yeong-Jun, go bother somebody else. She’s obviously not interested,” another voice interested the man that was pestering you.

The guy next to you huffed before leaving the store and you looked to see who had said that. He was behind the counter where a register and binders sat.

“I’m sorry about him, he does that all the time,” he smiled gently at you before going back to the small paperback in his hand.

You went back to scanning the spines of the books that sat in front of you, but your eyes kept glancing at the nice man who helped you out. You couldn’t help but think that maybe the two of you could be friends. He seemed nice and he obviously liked books, same as you. But what would you even say to him? Talking first was never your strong suit, or just making friends in general. You never knew what to say so maybe, it’d be best to just leave him alone.

At this point, you didn’t even know why you were taking so long in the store. It’s not like you could buy anything. Sighing, you headed towards the exit before the man at the counter’s voice stopped you.

“Didn’t find anything interesting?”

“No, that’s not it. It’s just that I don’t have the money for it.”

“Oh, well...How about you take one anyway?”

“I’m sorry?” you turned back to face him.

“You can take a book of your choosing. Think of it as me lending it to you. For free,” he said through a chuckle after seeing your expression.

“You sure?”

He nodded before motioning at all the rows of books. Swiftly, before he could change his mind, you made your way back to the Fantasy section and grabbed the one you had been eyeing almost the whole time.

You stopped at the counter, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, just bring it back when you’re done and you can borrow another one,” he smiled so wide it made his eyes turn into crescents.

You tried hiding your smile while nodding and exiting the store like a child who had just gotten candy. Books have been your only entertainment ever since he kidnapped you. There was no television to watch, no laptop, or a gaming system. The castle held no form of technology besides electricity for the lighting and sound systems. No matter where you were in the house, you could always hear music. It was beautiful yet sad performed by a group of woodwinds, brass, and many other instruments.

It’s good music to read to. You decided to head back to your hell. Wait...Why...Why would you go back if you were able to walk out the front door, be gone for almost an hour, and walked around town with no questions asked?

You turned around and headed to the church because that was the only place you could think of that would let you stay for free without worrying too much about a creep.

The last thing on your mind now was the thing that was holed up in his room, becoming hungry.

You slowly opened the door to the only church in town that was almost as big as the castle you came from. Not seeing anyone, you fully entered the building with the book in your hand. You tried to walk as quietly as you could but your shoes hitting the polished tiles caused echoing that bounced off the high ceiling walls.

“Hello? Is someone there?” a voice was heard coming from the side. You didn’t respond as you heard footsteps coming closer. “Oh, well hello there. What can I help you with?”

“I-I...I was wondering if I could, um, stay here for the night?” your social skills have suffered tremendously because of the anxiety your family has caused.

“Oh dear child, of course, you can. God’s house is always open to anyone,” he guides you to the other side of the building where he opened a door showing a long hallway.

As you walked down the large corridor, you noticed all the doors you passed by. Some were closed and some were opened. The opened ones revealed empty rooms with a bed and nightstand. You assumed the closed doors were occupied rooms.

“Many people stay here, all for their own reasons. We have a dining hall just around the corner, baths are just past that, and you are always welcome to join sermons,” he stopped in front of a room that was at the very end of the hall. “If you need anything, we have many sisters throughout the church that will be happy to help.”

“Thank you,” you slightly bowed before entering the room.

“Of course,” he closed the door and walked to a random spot in the corridor. He placed his hand on the wall while whispering a murmur in Latin. A door opened and he entered.

He descended the spiral case of marble stairs before coming to another door. This door had carvings of so many symbols, you couldn’t count. He touched a particular one causing the door to creak open.

“You all felt it as I did,” he spoke loudly before he sat down in his designated chair.

“You wouldn’t be able to,” another pastor said sarcastically.

“Will he come?” asked a nun.

“I do not know,” sighed the pastor who showed you to your room.

“Will you protect the girl, Claude?” asked a woman who sat in the middle of the table.

“Yes.”

✨

You had fallen asleep almost seven hours ago, according to the clock that hung on the wall opposite of the bed you laid in. That was the most sleep you have gotten in about two years. Insomnia was a bitch you knew all too well. Being able to sleep for so long made you full of this energy you haven’t experienced in so long. A knock was heard at your door before a nun poked her head in.

“It’s time for supper,” she said softly.

“Thank you,” she closed the door after slightly nodding to your response.

You sighed before looking out of the window that was close to the ceiling. You slept and found a place to stay but now what? You couldn’t live here so close to him. Yes, you loved him but it was unrequited and you knew it. It’s not like you could help it. In the little time you’ve spent with him, that didn’t involve your blood, he was kind and his smile gave you a serotonin boost. The way he was gentle with the plants he had and how he disagreed with the disgusting morals of characters from a different era. All of these things made you grow feelings for the undead immortal. Maybe it was because you’ve never encountered such a personality. But who knew?

You climbed out of the bed and headed to the dining hall with the book in your hand. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a meal that wasn’t frozen or from a restaurant. You never felt like cooking even though you knew how, you just never felt like it.

The volunteers were kind as they offered you everything they had. Sticking with only the bread and stew they made, you sat down at an empty table while beginning to read the book you picked out from the store. The front and spine read Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by April Genevieve Tucholke.

Someone had sat next to you making you look at them in the corner of your eye. It was the priest from yesterday. He had a plate of his own filled with stew, bread, and rice.

“I hope I am not disturbing you,” he motioned towards the open book in front of you.

“Oh, uh, no. It’s fine,” you nodded making him smile softly.

“What brings you here?” he asked while respectfully eating his bread.

You had to think carefully about what you wanted to say. You couldn’t just tell him that a vampire had kidnapped you, but didn’t care enough to keep an eye on you.

“I ran away from home.”

“Why is that my child?”

“My father- he uh…he would hit me...a lot, so one day I ran away,” it wasn’t a complete lie. That is what had happened at the beginning of all of this. However, your town was most likely miles and miles away.

“I am sorry, my child. Do you still, um, have bruises or anything?” he was hesitant in the way he spoke hoping he wouldn’t upset you.

You nodded causing him to sigh. Some people were truly out of God’s reach and your father needed to be punished for abusing as he had.

“Where are you from?” he asked looking back at you.

“Seoul.”

“Seoul? My, that’s ways away from here. How did you get to Busan?” he was shocked by how far you have traveled and was curious how you managed to get down here. Of course, he knew how you got there but he wanted to know if you trust him or not. By how long it took you to answer, it was obvious you didn’t trust easily.

“Many many buses,” you lied through your teeth, to a priest no less. Good thing you lost faith a long long time ago.

“I see,” bells rang in the distance signifying everyone that supper time was over and it was time to either go to your room or do chores. “We’ll get you started on chores tomorrow, okay?”

You nodded once again before standing up and taking care of your tray before heading back to your temporary room. Started on chores?? How long does he think you’re staying here? Now that you know what city you’re in, it will be much easier to get back to Seoul. You just had to find a way to get back and then figure out where you were going to stay. Your mind went to the book in your hand

You laid down so the growing headache could maybe stop from spreading from your frontal lobe to the cortex. Setting your book on the table beside you, sleep was your best choice at the moment.

Candy apple eyes stared down at the pathetic looking ‘House of God’. The eyes held hatred and disgust for the building and the oh so holy salvation that occupied it. The man’s features turned sour thinking about all the bothersome puppets that have tried to kill him, more often than not.

He wasn’t here for them, no-no. He was here for you of course. At first, he didn’t even realize you had escaped. Your scent was covering every inch of his mansion so it took maybe a whole day before he realized you were gone. The vampire was in his office so he wouldn’t bite you so much. Whenever he drank your delicious blood, he felt it course through his veins, he felt the warmth he once did when he was alive, he felt. And that terrified him. He was scared of the feeling, but he didn’t want to lose it. So he spent hours and hours researching from the very scripts his ancestors and others wrote, trying to find a way to keep you forever.

Now he’s sitting there thinking, how fucking stupid could he have been to let you leave like that. All the doors had normal locks so it wouldn’t take much brainpower to figure them out. If he didn’t get you back before another creature claimed you, it would be over. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. Because you were different. He knew that. Your smell, your taste, and your personality. All of it was so entrancing and he let it slip away just like that. Maybe he was just being dramatic, but what vampire isn’t? Maybe it was a good thing you escaped. How else could he hunt for such scrumptious prey? He loved to hunt before he fed but that usually ended with his prey dying. This time, he was going to keep you. Not only for your blood but also for you. The sarcastic remarks you made had made him laugh, your smile made his unmoving heart skip, your eyes told a story that only you knew. Yeah, he wasn’t going to let you go.

The priest who had welcomed you had once again descended the marble stairs into the secret hideaway. Once the nun saw him approach she spoke loudly, “He’s already here and you’re playing tea party with the girl.”

“No need for malice, sister,” the priest sat down in his usual chair and placed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. He knew he was here. Years of training his perception had been fruitful.

“I wouldn’t need to be malicious if you would just do your job!” her voice reverberated against the walls and back to them.

The woman sitting at the head of the table cleared her throat before addressing the nun who had gotten out of line, “Do not point fingers, let alone yell in the House of God, sister.”

The nun sat back in her seat while crossing her arms. She had never encountered a vampire before and she wasn’t trying to now. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Exhaling, she stiffened. She felt powerful energy that she wasn’t able to identify.

“Hello~” Jimin stood not too far away from the table but far enough to where no one could touch him before he could move. “Let’s negotiate.”

↬ ↬ ↬

It’s been a week since you’ve arrived at the church. You haven’t seen the pastor since that awkward dinner in the hall. Maybe he realized you couldn’t be helped and decided to move onto the next person. Who would help you right? You’re just a nobody who has parents that hate you. That’s normal...it’s all you’ve ever known. You sighed as you hung up the last piece of clothing on one of the lines. Not wanting to spend all day at the church again, you decided to take the book you finished back to the store. Hopefully, the nice employee was working today.

You went back to your temporary room to grab the book before you made your way to the exit of the building. On your way to the exit, it seemed like all the nuns and pastors you’ve passed we’re trying to distract you. First, a nun had asked for help with cleaning the rooftops, which sounded like a pointless job that would take all day. So you politely declined but when she insisted you told her you can help after you take the book back to the store. Then, a pastor had asked how you’ve been feeling and if you’re comfortable in your room. Saying yes to both and walking at the same time, you were able to get out of that conversation fairly quickly. And as you placed your hand on the door, two more nuns were asking you questions about you and where were going. Thankfully, another nun held their attention while you slipped through the crack in the doors.

You let out a sigh of relief and made your way to the bookstore. It felt nice to get out of there, at least for a little while. The weather seemed windy today and the clouds were slowly becoming a dark grey. Hopefully, a storm will come by. That’s always when you slept the best no matter where you slept. You were never able to sleep well, but on nights where you could hear thunder and see flashes of lightning, it lulled you to sleep, unlike any stories or songs.

Your mind suddenly went to him. Does he like storms? You stopped walking for a second, realizing your mistake. How could you think of him like that? Your cheeks get warm before you start walking again to try and forget about him and focus on getting another book.

Who cares if he likes storms? Certainly not you, he means nothing to you...do you mean nothing to him? You sighed as you weren't able to stop wondering about the handsome man that captured you months ago. It kind of made you sad that he hasn't come to find you yet. Your thoughts had you passing the bookstore before the employee from before calls out to you, “Hey!”

You snapped your head up and looked around before your eyes landed on the person who called out to you. Looking around again, you realized you had walked by the store without noticing. Your cheeks turned red before you made your back to the store where the worker waited for you with a smile.

“I think I have one you might like,” he motioned for you to follow him to the desk. He told you to set the book in your hands on the cart to the right and slid a different one on the desk.

It read Between the Spark and the Burn, the sequel to the book you had just returned. “I didn't see this the last time I was here,” you carefully picked up the book and held it in your hand by your side.

“I noticed the book you chose so I requested it from the next town over for when you finished the first one,” he sat down on the wooden stool that was rickety and old.

“Thank you,” you said quietly while keeping your gaze anywhere but him.

It’s been a while since someone did something nice for you. You're usually the one doing things for other people. You could see him smiling in the corner of your, making you realize that you were also smiling. Your cheeks were beginning to hurt so you decided to introduce yourself, “My name’s Y/n.” Hopefully, that was the right way to begin this conversation.

“Taehyung, a pleasure,” his smile grew before he covered it with his hand.

You nodded before reluctantly walking towards the door. Just as it closed behind you Taehyung was met with somebody standing next to him. He casually looked to see who it was only to find his best friend.

“Jimin~ it's been so long since you visited!” he stood up to give Jimin a hug and Jimin reciprocated. “What brings you here?”

“Turns out, you were just flirting with the girl I was talking about,” Jimin sighed as he straightened his posture to not look as short compared to his friend.

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot and pointed his thumb towards the door where you just exited. Jimin nodded before pinning him to the wall, “And you're gonna help me get her back.”

⤐ ⤐ ⤐

“Y/n!” your name echoed throughout the spacious corridor. You turned around to see the priest waving to you while jogging to catch up to you.

...you don't remember ever telling him your name. You began to panic so you quickly made your way outside and into the garden to hide behind the large rose bushes.

You heard him calling for you but stayed behind the bushes and went deeper into the rows and rows of red and white roses. You let out a sigh before sitting on the ground more comfortably.

“Blood bag, how come you haven't come home yet?”

Your whole body stiffened, but surprisingly relaxed. But now wasn't the time to question your muscles. You looked up to see the man who you thought you wouldn't have to see again.

“I've missed you, ya know,” he crouched down so his piercing eyes could be level with yours. It reminded you of the first time you met, back in the warehouse.

You remained quiet and averted your gaze to a wilting rose at the bush behind him. What were you supposed to say to him anyway? Did you miss him too? Of course, you did, he has given you more attention than anyone in your life. Up until you had spoken to Taehyung a couple of days ago.

“Blood Bag, it’s rude to ignore me,” he cupped your face with his hands decorated with silver rings.

“You ignored me for days at a time but that doesn’t matter, does it?” your anger got the best of you, making you regret even opening your mouth. You watched as his eyes widened slightly before he smirked.

“It does matter because I was doing something very important in that office.”

“Of course, what would be more important than using me as food whenever you felt like it.”

You saw his eyebrow twitch at your smartass comment. You didn’t know what had gotten over you at that time. You were usually the pushover but it seems that something about this vampire made you want to talk back. Maybe it was the smirk on his ethereal features or maybe it was just you trying to deny your feelings for him.

“I’m gonna let that slide since there’s something else I need to talk to you about,” you stood up before you had to hear any more of this unnecessary conversation. Before you were able to take a step, you were brought back to the ground. Your back hit the hard dirt making you wince. Jimin sat on your waist with each knee on either side of you. “You have recently met a very good friend of mine without even noticing what he was. I’m afraid he wants to take you as his. So I was nice enough to come here and warn you about him. But it seems you don’t want my protection…”

He trailed off waiting for you to start begging for him to help you but it never came. His smile fell and his eyebrows furrowed. Why were you not groveling? Were you not afraid? That’s not it, he can smell the delicious fear coming off of you.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m leaving by the end of next week,” you lied hoping he wouldn’t catch it.

Jimin stared at you for a second before getting off of you. But not before giving you a quick peck to the lips. Your face burned as you looked up at the grinning blood-sucker of a man. It most definitely gave Jimin an ego boost to see you so affected by his action.

“See you later, Blood Bag,” he waved before disappearing around the corner. What you didn’t see is that Jimin had to stop after turning the corner. He held his hand over the left side of his chest. It hurt. His chest was in pain. Like his heart was beating once again. The cold skin of his cheeks flushed while he felt like his lungs were actually working. If this was what it felt like just to kiss you, imagine what it would feel like to...Jimin had to stop himself. No need to let his mind go too far until you’ve fallen for him. And he was confident you would.

You finally willed your legs to get up and move to hurry to your room. You stopped when you passed an opening leading to the street in front of the church. You didn’t want to give Jimin or the priest time to find you again, so you made your way back to the bookstore.

When you got there you opened the door and your eyes instantly landed on Taehyung...and his bruised cheek above a busted lip. You stopped in your tracks making Taehyung look at you.

“Done with the book already?” a smile stretched across his face making him mumble ‘ow’.

“What happened to you?”

“Just a little friendly brawl.”

“In fifteen minutes?”

“Lots can happen in fifteen minutes.”

You shook your read to get your thoughts focused, “I came here to ask you if there was a bus or a train that left the town today.”

“Hmmm, I’m pretty sure the next train outta here isn’t for another two days,” Taehyung lied without hesitation. The next train left today in thirty minutes and wouldn’t be back until next week. He didn’t want another beating from Jimin.

“Oh, well thanks. I’ll have the book back by then,” you nodded before heading back to the church. What were you supposed to do for the next two days?

Once you made it back to the church you headed straight to your room to find the priest sitting in the wooden chair. He told you to have a seat on your bed after you closed the door.

He cleared his throat, “So you obviously seem uncomfortable around me and I apologize for whatever I have done to make you feel that way.”

Your eyes were on the book in your hand before you quietly replied, “I just never remembered telling you my name so I panicked. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I should’ve been more careful,” he saw your confused expression before continuing. “I am no ordinary priest. I am a...protector of sorts. I protect people from supernatural creatures of all kinds.”

Your eyes looked into his, and his were telling you he knew about the vampire that had kept in his home. Of course, he knew, this made you breathe out a laugh, “So you know about him.”

“I do.”

“You know, I was able to walk out the front door of his house like it was nothing,” Claude’s eyebrows raised in shock. You nodded, “He was so deeply in his work while in his office, I was able to walk out of there. But now he knows I’m here and I need to find a way out of here.”

“I can help with that. The train that transports out of town leaves in twenty minutes. I can get you there along with a ticket straight back home. If that is what you wish.”

It only took you a few seconds to register his offer and you quickly nodded and followed him out the door. All while leaving the book from Taehyung on the bed.

“What’s your name?” you asked while trying to keep up with the man that has been trying to help you for the past week and a half.

“Claude.”

He looked around the corridor before muttering the Latin mantra for the hidden door to open. Claude had to come back up a few stairs to grab your wrist to lead you down the stairs. You had unknowingly frozen in place after seeing the wall slide open to a set of stairs.

“Do all churches have a basement like this?”

“Not all, we’re one of the few that do.”

“So cool,” you whispered as you skimmed all the symbols and words that were engraved into the walls.

“There’s a tunnel that leads straight to the station. We don’t want you to miss the train, the next one won’t be here for another week,” Claude explained all while hurriedly walking down the tunnel.

You didn’t want to think about how Taehyung lied to you and how you didn’t realize that he was the friend Jimin was referring to. Just then, passed the room where you could see people sitting around a large dark wood table.

“Are we not going to talk about how you guys have a literal l a i r down here?”

“Nope.”

“Alrighty.”

Claude had led you up a flight of stairs that lead to the back of a building. You couldn’t tell what kind it was until the two of you walked up the side to the front. The large sign read Train Station. There were many benches set out but only two other people were waiting to get on the train. Claude had just realized he still had a grip on your hand but luckily you didn’t seem to mind as you read all the signs telling you the train’s schedule.

Claude paid for your ticket to Seoul before having you sit down on a bench close to the entrance gate. He looked around to make sure Jimin was nowhere in sight. Then he would glance back at you to make sure you were still there. The loud whistle of the train made it to your ears before you stood up and watched as it slowed to a stop.

“I have nowhere to stay up there,” you paused in front of the bench and started at the open door showing a few metal stairs.

“You do,” he brought a piece of paper from his pants pocket and gently set it in your hand. He nodded towards the train, motioning for you to get on before it leaves.

You thank him before boarding the locomotive and taking a seat in the designated section. Your seat was on the side of the station. Looking out to see Claude waving and smiling at you through the window. No one else was around him, nobody had gotten off and the few people that were waiting were already boarded. You waved back before your blood ran cold.

Claude’s neck was snapped right before your very eyes. His now lifeless body fell to the ground, in what felt like slow motion. The one person that had been helping you from the kindness of his heart, lied on the floor, dead.

Through your teary eyes, you saw it was Taehyung. His face showed no emotion, not even as he stared into your sorrowful eyes. As you went to stand, the train began to move and when you looked back to where Taehyung was standing, he was gone.

🩸🩸🩸

You rushed off of the train and hurriedly went to find whatever stood at the address Claude had given to you. Your head constantly went from side to side, causing a headache to form. But you didn't want the pounding of your brain against your skull to be the reason you were caught.

Finally, you ended up at the place where you met Jimin. The warehouse still appeared worn down and abandoned. Nothing had changed since you last saw it, except for the door. The door used to be blocked by wooden planks but now, it was a sleek and elegant carved piece of wood. There laid a door knocker that looked to be recently polished, in the shape of a cross.

You hesitated in reaching for the knocker and just as your fingers touched the cool metal, Taehyung interrupted. You spun around to see him even more beaten than the time before. When you went to knock again the door was gone, and the old wooden beams replaced them. You froze, that was going to be where Claude promised safety. Now you met with the thing that killed him. The thing you had considered your friend for only a short period of time.

“I didn't wanna hurt you like this, ya know. I really did want to be friends with you, and maybe even one day be more than that. Because you seem like a great person and-” he stopped talking once he noticed you had slipped through the wood and into the building. He sighed before following you in.

You wondered if there was even a point in trying to hide from him. He obviously wasn't human so he could track you down in seconds. Yet, you still went to hide in the room where you saw Jimin feeding on that stranger. And after months, her body was still there. Rotting and decaying. You gagged before exiting the room quickly.

Taehyung was right there, causing you to run into him. He held you close as you tried to pull away. He rolled his eyes as you struggled, irritated you wouldn't listen to his practiced speech all while running away. It was clear Jimin had no issue throwing punches towards his friend. Even though they were the same age physically, Jimin had been alive for much longer than he had.

You attempted to pull all your weight back as Taehyung dragged you down the stairs and to the entrance. Suddenly, you went flying back onto your ass as Taehyung’s grip left your arm. Your gaze landed on Jimin wrestling with Taehyung on the concrete floor. You looked around to find another door but there wasn't one that you could see. You didn't want to wander the building and get lost, but you also didn't want to wait for the two supernatural beings to be done with their fight.

You let out a shaky breath after realizing you're going to have to sneak past and get to the entrance. Your legs trembled as you slowly made your way around the two that were yelling at each other. Threats and fists, along with knees, we're thrown back and forth. When you got to the entrance you heard a sickening thud. It wasn't someone falling on the ground or one being thrown. No, the thud had an underlying crack to it. Turning around, you saw dark crimson ooze from Taehyung’s skull.

He was face down, making the sight easier for you to stomach. If you were able to see the look on his face and the emptiness of his eyes, you wouldn't be able to sleep again.

Jimin picked you up by your biceps, making sure you were as close to him as possible. He rested his forehead against yours. He bit his and leaned in for a kiss. Jimin kissed you over and over again until every inch of your face had met the touch of his pillowy lips. lip

“So tell me, Blood Bag, are you ready to spend an eternity with me?”

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