#it kinda became his emergency phone

[shadow0-1]

🍰🌺🍀

🍀 - Who is better at comforting? 

In tense, heat of the moment kinda scenarios it would be Graves, plenty of experience from his army days + shadow company dhbfjejv. He tries his best to be calm on the field cause he's the Leader™️, don't want your guys getting worried cause you're sweating a bit ejhcjdjcj

Casually, it would be Jax. Dude has some capybara energy and is always ready to just sit down and talk or listen if ever needed

🍰 - Which one bakes/cooks? 

They're both Fine cooks, know the basics and know how to season things and not burn them whfhjejf. Jackie's a better baker tho, he just doesn't have a lot of time 😔

🌺 - Do they send cutesy or grossly sweet/romantic texts to each other? 

No, but they don't tend to text anyway. Jax is horrible with responding because his phone is on silent all the time and he forgets it exists for half a day. They'll call each other and almost all of their non professional calls end with a "love you", "see you later" or "stay safe"

[mydarlingclaudia]

bunnies love bouncing

note : divider is from @/aquazero. my mutuals have been making me think about ogre4 Leon more than I already do so this is what I spat out I know this kinda sucks. sorry I always have to write like eight paragraphs of lore before the smut starts it's who I am. Leon is ooc sorry I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO WRITE HIM dw about it kitten. I don't know how I feel about this one. mdni

wc : 1.7k

tags : @lottiies

desc : you're supposed to make him feel good, why not make him feel even better? smut!! - unprotected p in v, reverse cowgirl, light choking. little bit of fluff, fem!hybrid!reader, post re4og!Leon, not proofread.

The whole reason Leon got you was because you were supposed to be therapeutic, somehow. He didn't really understand how having a roommate he had to take care of was supposed to help him feel better, he didn't even feel like he even needed therapy, but the whole situation had been referred to him by some other agents in the DSO before Spain, but when you were the hybrid that had been picked out for him and you looked at him with your pretty little eyes with your cute rabbit ears twitching atop your head, Leon couldn't really imagine turning you away.

Leon can't help but be a little bit mean to you, you're so easy to tease and he loves the way your nose twitches and your foot thumps against the floor when you get upset. You always forgive him in a matter of minutes, anyway, all he has to do is open his palm and show you a piece of candy he had hidden away and you're already nestled into his side.

His least favorite part of having you might be having to buy you clothes. You take so long to try on everything, and you insist on showing him each new outfit you get to make sure it looks nice or that he likes it. And you always want these cute panties and bras, which of course absolutely had to be modeled for him. But whenever it came to underwear, you’d pull Leon into the fitting room, which made everything way too close for comfort, and you’d spin around and ask him if the underwear looked good on you and he’d have to pretend he wasn’t starting to feel hot. Not to mention how cute your little cottontail looked perched above your panties.

And you’re cute, always waiting by the door for Leon when he comes back from work, snuggling up to him so quickly that he has to pry you off of him to even be able to get his shoes off. He’ll tell you to scram for a few minutes while he unpacks his things and finishes whatever paperwork he had to take home with him, you always sigh and wander into the living room to watch tv, hoping Leon will be done soon so he’ll keep paying attention to you.

You got attached quickly, that made Leon feel kinda good, he supposed. Leon had to get your own flip phone for when he went away on missions, in case of an emergency or to order yourself pizza, but you ended up calling his agency more often than not. And you were allowed to since you were registered as a therapy hybrid under the agency, you weren’t allowed to speak to Leon directly when he was on the job, but Hunnigan would always let him know when you called and asked how he was doing, she always humored you, it was cute to her.

Having you around does make him feel a bit better, getting extra attention is nice and you’re always so sweet to him, Leon figures that taking care of you isn’t too bad sometimes.

He gets to see you naked every so often.

It’s cute, you always strip down to nothing when it gets too hot at night, it doesn’t stop you from sweating through the night, unfortunately. You’d always wander into Leon’s room come morning and ask him for a bath, trying to climb into his bed even when you were still naked.

The first time you had done it, he had groaned and held his hands out in front of his eyes to keep himself from oogling you for too long, but you had flopped down onto his stomach and just laid there for a few minutes while he debated whether or not this was a good idea or not.

It became more normal now, not that he minded, he likes to reach down and give your tail a gentle yank just to hear you yelp. Maybe even “accidentally” grope you just because he can.

You sit too close to him sometimes, too. Sometimes you’re on his lap, either facing away from him or with your head buried in his neck, either way, he’s gripping onto your legs, trying not to focus on how you’re squirming in his lap.

He likes when you curl up into his bed at night, you grip onto him like a bear-trap and don’t let go until morning. Leon’s aware of everything all the time, especially on how your lips are pressed against his neck, he knows you’re not trying to kiss him, but he can delude himself a tiny bit.

You were so sweet tonight, babbling about how you had missed him and how warm he felt. Leon couldn’t help but kiss your cheek, you had giggled as you squeezed him tighter and pressed a few kisses to his cheek in return.

Things escalated kind of quickly. One second you and Leon are kissing each other's faces, the next his tongue is down your throat, then the very next, your back is to him as you ride him.

Leon’s grip on your hips is almost bruising, guiding your body while your hands grip just above his knees to keep yourself upright. He can’t tear his gaze away from your cottontail, smiling to himself as he watches it twitch.

“You’re so cute,” Leon murmurs, pulling you down to meet his upward thrust. You groaned, your nails digging into his skin, Leon’s hands left your hips and trailed up your stomach until he cupped your breasts, yanking you back against his chest. “So sweet for me, too.”

His lips attach to your shoulder, planting kisses on any open space he could find. While his hips were busy rutting against you, driving his dick into you, his hands busied themselves with kneading your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingertips.

“You were such a-a blabber-mouth before, mm fuck, you’re finally quiet now, hm?” Leon teases, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your breasts.

“M-missed you,” You pant, moving faster to match his movements, you smile to yourself when he lets out a groan as you clamp down around him.

“I know, God- mhm- always so good to me. Just wanna make me feel good, yeah?”

“Yeah,”

“You’re doing a pretty good job. Sooo perfect, holy shit-“ He stops fucking up into you for a few seconds, letting you do the work as focused on the feeling of your hot cunt sucking him in. You had been so ready for him when he pulled off your panties, he couldn't help but drool a little at the sight of you all wet for him, couldn't hold back from giving your clit a few kisses and gentle nips, either.

Leon's right hand leaves your breast to move behind you, tugging at the tips of your droopy rabbit ears, tipping your head back a little bit as you hiss. He tuts, bringing the furry flap of cartilage to his mouth to press a kiss against it, finally deciding to start bucking his hips again.

Holy Hell, the wet sounds coming from the two of you were gonna be stuck in his head for the next two weeks, at least. Not to mention the noises falling from your mouth and the way you looked bouncing up and down on his cock, he'd have to have you facing him the next time you do this.

And you felt like you were on fire.

You weren't gonna tell Leon, but you've been wishing for this to happen since forever. And maybe it's dumb to crush on the guy who takes care of you, but you can't help it! Just like how you can't help humping his pillows when he's gone, or wearing his shirts when you have a whole closet full of clothes you asked him to buy you, but this was way better than any of that. You were willing to do this until you were all sore and Leon had to do all the work, you wouldn't even mind passing out.

And he felt better than any dream you could have, mostly because of how he's hardly giving you a break, but also because it's him.

You're pulled from your barely-there thoughts as Leon's bicep wraps around your throat, squeezing gently as your head tips back and his other hand shoots down to play with your clit. Was he trying to drive you crazy? Your hands grip his arm, fingernails digging into his flesh as you try to ground yourself, trying to take in as much air as you can in case he decides to squeeze harder.

"Feel good?" He mutters against the side of your head, smiling as you nod. His fingers poke and pinch at your clit, your own thrusts start slowing down as you begin to feel your orgasm start to coil up in your belly.

Your head droops down, resting against his bicep as his grip loosens, you almost whine when his fingers leave your clit to hold onto your stomach, keeping you against him even more.

"Gonna tell my boss to give you a f-fucking promotion when we're done," Leon pants, the noises coming from his mouth slowly becoming more needy, doing nothing to aid in stopping your arousal. "Cum, please. Gonna lose it. Shit-"

Leon offers up a few more hard thrusts before you feel the coil snap and you cum, biting down on his forearm as you breathe through your nose. Leon isn't far behind, his thrusts become lazy as he reaches his own high, his arm moves from your neck to wrap around your shoulder to hold onto you tightly, you shiver as you feel his cum coat your insides.

"Happy?" You mumble to him, tilting your head to rest against his as you teasingly tease his spent dick, listening to him groan while he weakly thrusts against you.

"Very," Leon presses a kiss to your head and loosens his grip on you, letting you rise off of him. "Let me see your face, next time." You turn to face him, draping your legs over his while you lay down on the bed and catch your breath. Leon should have gotten you sooner.

"You can see my face now,"

"Don't play dumb, you know what I mean."

[stuckwthem]

hii could i req a matías recalt x virgin!reader smut ? reader is enzo’s little sister, and so she has to deal with matías and agustin hanging out at their place almost every day. but she doesn’t mind it because she’s practically best friends with agustin. and she has a crush on matías! one day, when enzo and agustin go out to buy some stuff, matías and reader are left alone and they start to keep each other company. one thing leads to another and after they’re done, matías says “who knew i would be the one taking your virginity” 😣😣

altitude | matias recalt

summary: you and matías have a thing going on, but never went cross that line...until then. matías recalt x virgin!femreader

tw: smut, fingering, cuss words, situationship, 4k words of pure profanity

this smut is named after this song. sooo, yeah.

it all started on the last trip, when you first started to hang out with the boys. enzo was not very exactly pleased with the idea of you around all the other guys, not that he was jealous, just a little protective, but after all, they were his friends and he could trust them. agustin, one of the closest friends of your brother and also your best friend even helped you when you tried to convince enzo, so he had no option but to accept. his little sister was coming together and spending three weeks with all those boys and their girlfriends. and, inevitably developing a huge crush on one of his friends, matías.

you knew matías. you knew him very well since he started to stick around in your house, always getting second glances and sneaky smiles until you two really got closer. he would be all day on your business, using your brothers as an excuse to come to your house and talk to you. matías had a knack for finding reasons to be around. whether it was helping enzo fix something, teaching you how to skate (which was his idea), or just "passing by" to chat and drink some mate, he always found a way. and you couldn't help but notice the way he'd linger a little longer each time. your initial conversations were casual, filled with shy laughter and plots against your brother, but it didn't take long for the undertones of something more to emerge. enzo, occupied with his own life, didn't notice the subtle shift in dynamics between you and his friend.

since you two started to hook up, boundaries have been established. you were a virgin, and to the moment it all began, you weren’t willing to hand the privilege of having you on a plate to any guy. matías respected it, of course, he always had been careful to not cross lines or make you uncomfortable, always stopping when you felt it was too much or when you showed just a slightly uncertainty. but lately, ever since the last make-out session, things have been kinda different. your mind keeps going back to sex. with him. constantly.

besides, after all this time with matías, you never felt more sure, more confident, and there's no doubt he's the one you'd wanna cross that line with.

thats why it was getting hard to hide how just sitting next to him made you nervous and eager, shaking your legs nonstop, what would always catch matías attention, and discreetly he would put his knee close to yours or just get a bit closer. but this time, almost like he could read your thoughts, he was somehow bolder, putting his hand on your thigh. 

your breathing hitched when you felt his cold fingers caressing your bare skin, automatically putting you on alert. shame on you for putting your tiniest short.

you tried to ignore how much it affected you, trying not to attract the attention of your brother or agustin, who were sitting on the other sofa across the room playing some game on tv, but controlling your sighs became increasingly difficult as matías' restless hand began to explore the inner part of your thigh a little more, slowly going down and up, in total provocation. just act cool, you said to yourself, continuing to scroll on your phone, as if you didn't even care. but his plan was to make things harder for you, a perverse challenge. his fingers were dangerously close to your shorts hem, tangling in the fabric and then returning to your skin, drawing small circles.

matías was loving every second of it, you could see the mischievous smirk on his lips. son of a bitch. you couldn't deny you liked it, the cold touch of his skin against yours making you hotter, like an anticipation, making you want more. you finally mustered the courage to speak, your voice a mere whisper to avoid attracting attention.

"matías, stop this. they are right there," you warned, trying to convey a sense of urgency through your hushed words.

not that the thing between yall was forbidden, but you both understood the potential repercussions it could have on the dynamic within the group. and you didn’t know how enzo would handle this, so for the better, matías and you chose to keep it on the low. besides, the risky feeling was addicting and the situationship was not that serious. you didn’t even had sex, if you consider fingering and blowjobs apart of it.

he leaned in, his lips close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "why stop when it's so much fun?" he replied, his warm breath against your skin causing a flutter in your stomach.

that 's it. you would lose your mind. you took a deep sigh, giving him an annoyed side eye while crossing your legs, getting away from his hand. deep down, you loved it. he knew how this kind of thing affected you, he knew how you almost had no experience and how any slightest teasing made you feel.

matías laughed quietly, suddenly interested in the tv when agustin turned around, looking between you. agustin had an idea of what was going on, he wasn't stupid, he knew exactly how to annoy you with it, but he only squinted his eyes in your direction.

“you good there?” your best friend asked, with a smirk on his lips. you gulped, knowing exactly what he was doing. “you look kind of…red.” 

“yeah, i’m fine.” you coughed nervously, running a hand through your hair while discreetly flashing your middle finger at the older man. enzo turned to look at you, with a frown. “just hot. its very hot in here, right? you know what, i'm gonna make us a drink!”

you stood up from the sofa with a forced, cynical smile on your face and adjusted your shorts, pulling them down a little as your eyes burned into matías, who had his hand clenched into a fist over his mouth, hiding his smile. he raised his eyes to meet yours and gave you a slight wink. the devil in disguise.

you rushed your way to the kitchen, leaning on the sink and enjoying the feel of the cold marble against your abdomen, taking a deep breath and trying to go back to a time when you weren't being completely controlled by your hormones.

“actually, the boys have just texted me. esteban and fran are already around, we're going to get some beers.” you heard enzo from the living room. 

“i'm coming with you” agustin's voice echoed in response. 

great. you heard the keys jangling, and then the door closing. no sign of matías or his voice. maybe he'd given up that little game and joined the boys. you could take a cold shower until they got back and forget how much you were craving his fingers, a little further down your shorts.

you then decided to prepare your lemonade, silently picking through the things in the kitchen. as you focused on preparing the drink, the rhythmic sound of the juicer drowned out the lingering thoughts of matías's teasing. or you tried to. 

“why are you escaping from me?” caught off guard by matías's sudden presence, you turned around to find him standing there, his voice unexpectedly filling the air. “did i do something wrong?”

your heart skipped a beat. matías was standing there, a playful glint in his eyes and a mischievous smile playing on his lips again. now that you two were alone, you wanted to jump on him, but decided to go ahead with that silly little game.

you rolled your eyes, attempting to sound nonchalant, "i just wanted a lemonade. and for the record, i wasn't trying to escape from anything."

“uhum” he nodded, getting closer to you as you poured the juice on two cups. he caught a slice of lemon from the counter and sucked it, casually, watching you carefully. “so, can i kiss you now?”

you tried to maintain your composure, suppressing the urge to smile as you handed matías a cup of lemonade. his casual demeanor and teasing antics were both infuriating and exhilarating.

rolling your eyes, you replied, "smooth, matías. real smooth. you know it's not that easy."

“no?” he said, an almost innocent expression on his face. you wanted to ruin it. 

matías put one of his arms on the counter, making you lean your back against it. the boy took a sip of the juice and then left it under the counter, taking advantage of his movement to get even closer. his body pressed against yours. 

“no” you replied, hiding your smile in your cup, taking a sip while looking into his eyes. 

his hands went to your waist, holding it gently. then, his nose trailed a way into your neck, making you turn on in the very same instant. you knew you couldn’t resist it for very long. his lips quickly replaced his nose, slowly kissing the sensitive skin of your throat, causing a ragged breath to escape your mouth. when he heard the glass being placed on the counter, matías smiled against your skin, knowing that he had already won.

“you smell so good” the boy whispered, kissing his way up to your jaw. his voice reverberating through your whole body, reaching an exact point.

your arms quickly wrapped around the back of his neck and he laughed, pulling away just enough to look at your face, finding your eyes already heavy and hazy.

“you still don't want to kiss me?” matías teased, biting his lower lip, making no effort to hold back a smile.

“shut up, recalt” you exclaimed, drawing a laugh from both of you before hungrily attacked his soft lips, feeling the citric taste on his tongue. 

it wasn’t a regular kiss, you could feel it with the way things escalated very quickly. you knew what could happen. it seemed like just having his lips against yours wasn’t enough. the proximity of your bodies wasn’t enough. in a hurry, matías bent down, slipping his hands behind your thighs and pulling your body up, placing you on the counter. immediately, your hands went down to the collar of the boy's shirt and your legs encircled his waist, pulling him even closer to you. 

slowly, matías' tongue rubbed against yours, eliciting such a sweet, spontaneous sound from you that the boy felt his whole body tense up, increasing his desire even more. when you realized the effect you had on him, you wasted no time in devoting your attention to the older boy's neck. with your heavy breathing meeting his sensitive skin, you left small bites and marks to be admired later. the grip of matías' hands on your waist intensified as your bodies sought each other out, initiating a movement of disjointed friction.  

"fuck, you're going to drive me fucking insane" his husky voice sounded so weak that it was impossible not to smile against his skin, satisfied.

as if to prove his point, matías pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, pressing the inside of your thigh against his crotch. a sigh escaped your lips as you felt how hard he was, making your abdomen cool and warm at the same time. taking advantage of the cue, your hands slowly made their way down the boy's chest, scratching him over his shirt until they reached the waistband of his shorts. you felt matías' throat rise and fall heavily against your lips, and just as you were about to touch him, he pulled away, leaving you confused.

"did i do something wrong?" your voice came out breathless, in a worried tone. you stared at the boy, his lips swollen and red, his gaze fixed on you, as if determined. "mati...i..."

"shh" he whispered, drawing back, placing his index finger between your lips. matías let out a small laugh and bit your chin, moving down your neck in return for what you had done earlier. "it's my turn now, huh? i need to return some old favors."

your eyes roll with the intoxicating sensation of feeling him descend his mouth to your collarbone, licking and sliding down to your shoulders. your tank top is taken off so quickly that you have no time to process what happens when he returns his kisses to your skin, rubbing his nose down the middle of your breasts, sucking on the part just above the fabric of your bra. you gasp softly, directing one of his hands through your hair and the other to your shoulder. he licks just below your ribcage and then traces a path to the button of your shorts. you open your eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to take in what's happening as he opens the button and slips his hand inside the shorts, feeling how damp it was under the thin fabric of the panties.

"fuck," he mutters, gasping as he stares at you over his eyelashes. 

you feel your cheeks burn and matías now seems completely deluded at the feel of you, his index and ring finger slowly stroking the wet, still covered length. "all that for me?" 

your hand squeezes the boy's shoulder in reflex, and you nod, unable to formulate a sentence. your mind is too cloudy and light to think of anything else. 

he hisses a "may i?", coming face to face with you again. with your voice weak, you manage to agree with a feeble "uh huh" and then matías pulls the elastic of your panties aside, brushing your lips with his two fingers as he reaches your entrance.

a sultry moan echoes through the kitchen as he slowly moves his fingers inside you, and without daring to breathe, the two of you stare at each other. matías' mouth is slightly open, watching you intently, carefully discovering the exact points that make you shudder. he curves his fingers a little and your back arches, your breasts meeting the boy's chest, and just that small sensation of friction makes your body tremble.

"matías" you whisper softly, digging your nails into the skin of the boy's back under the t-shirt as he keeps working his fingers deeper into you, his thumb now gently circling your clit. 

you can almost see stars as the warm, liquid sensation grows in your womb. your legs start to tremble as he starts to speed up his pace and there you know it's not enough, you want more of this, of that sensation, of his closeness.

you finally feel ready and there's no one else who you would want to do that for you other than matías, who understands you and your desires so well. 

"i need you" you whisper again, your body falling back a little, weakly. matías seems too focused, his eyes fixed on your lips that pull in air with difficulty. "matías"

"i know, i know," he replies, as lost as you are. another moan, this time a little louder, escapes him as he pushes his fingers upwards. 

"inside me, mati. i need you inside me" your confession seems to be enough fuel for the sensation at the base of your stomach to explode.

matías looked at you, somehow surprised and amused, working with his fingers inside even harder. something seizes your body for a few seconds, making you dizzy and breathless, clenching against matías' hand inside you. 

the boy moaned as his body shuddered along with yours, the mark on the denim fabric of his shorts getting bigger and bigger.

"yeah? you sure, linda?" matías questioned, eager. his eyes met yours once more, and you nodded with assurance. “we don’t have to rush just because…you know, i want you to have a good time, princesa.”

“i'm having a perfect time” you laughed, softly, wicked. honestly, it was comforting to see how he much cared. the insecurities about anything related to this no longer existed in your mind. “i’m sure, amor”

your lips crashed into matías' again, now a little slower, sweeter and softer as he withdrew his fingers from you, making the empty sensation ache and tighten your muscles. matías broke the kiss only to lick his own fingers, drying all the honey from his hand with delight, making you think the most inappropriate things possible.

you kissed him again, now feeling your taste mixed with the boy's saliva, a completely depraved sensation.

"let's go upstairs," you ordered against the boy's lips, who didn't hesitate for a second to lift you off the counter and carry you up the stairs to your bedroom, a familiar spot to him.

once you have entered the room, matías gently sits you on your bed, his attitude a little calmer and more patient now. hot and sweaty, you remove your shorts and panties at once, while the boy stares at you. matías runs a hand through his hair and sighs at the sight as you slowly take off your bra, revealing your breasts to the boy, who looks at you from head to toes with devotion.

you reach into the bedside drawer, grabbing a condom from under your clean panties, prepared for a moment like this. it was almost unbelievable, but it was happening.

"sit down" you ask, patting your hand on the side of the bed.

he looks serious now, but doesn't contest it, following your request.

swallowing dryly, hoping to get it right, you stand up, unbuttoning matías' shorts and pulling them over his boxers. 

"they'll be back any minute," you warn, not wanting to waste a single minute.

even with all the little you've learned throughout your life, you nervously approach the boy once again, opening the laminated package. your hands shake a little with adrenaline, but soon matías helps you, cautiously coating his member with the condom.

carefully, you cross your legs over matías' lap, both of you gasping at the friction that your sensitive core exposed against his bare skin causes.

your hands drag the fabric of the boy's shirt upwards, pulling it over his neck. when the collar passes over his head, messing up his hair, you both giggle, the atmosphere of the intimate and intense moment hanging over you.

"hi" matías murmurs, affectionately, as he admires your face. his hand runs from your waist and reaches the back of your neck, stroking your hair.

"hi," you reply as well, still with a little breathy giggle. the two of you take a moment to appreciate each other, contemplating the sensations that come with it. "is it okay if i stay on top of you? am i not hurting you?" 

"no, not at all. don't worry," matías laughed, pressing his lips to your temple in a tender kiss.

your chest was about to explode with the force of your heart beating against your ribs, a warm, euphoric feeling coursing through your body. matías smiled, sharing the same satisfaction, unable to believe his luck. your gazes intertwined, revealing the vulnerability and anxiety that hung in the air. the atmosphere between the two of you became electric, and the tension was palpable, even though you felt pleasantly calm. 

slowly, you leaned on matías' shoulders, and with his help, positioned yourself right above his member, which was throbbing at your entrance. a long, broken sigh came from both of your lips, taking in the new sensation. this was the moment that would share a before and after, that all intimacy and vulnerability would consume you completely. 

matías lifted his hips slowly and eagerly, slowly fitting himself inside you. you could feel the intangible connection being established as he moaned your name, entering your pussy. your forehead rested on the boy's shoulder, and between gasps and moans, both of you began to move against each other. your thighs instinctively locked against matías', helping you to roll onto his cock. 

"fuck. oh fuck." you moaned, while matías' hand was still in your hair, stroking and pulling. the boy's free arm wrapped tightly around your waist, helping you to balance and move on top of him.

"is everything all right?" he asked, his husky voice sounding distant but so close. his mouth brushed against the edge of your ear, sending a shiver down the back of your spine.

"yeah. it's great." the pain at first was a little overwhelming, feeling him enter you fully as your walls squeezed him, but it soon diminished, being almost completely replaced by pleasure. it was good, delicious and calm. 

you moved your face away from his shoulder to look directly at him now, being able to carefully watch every change in matías' expression, while he did exactly the same. your faces contorted into mirror-like revelations of pleasure, the moans repeated in unison as your bodies moved in harmony. 

“like this, yeah, bebé” matías murmured, his hand palmed at the end of your back, holding as you rocked into him, whimpering. “god, you feel amazing. so fucking tight.”

he sounded absolutely wrecked, lost in the pleasure, combusting with the way your body went up and down above him, bouncing on his dick. you couldn't help it, you were moaning –  groaning, to be more truthful. asking for more, begging shamelessly. 

“that noise…keep doing it, you're being so good. such a good girl, right?” matías kept talking you through it, until he shared his attention with your boobs, sucking and licking your nipples. you buckled your hips with the feeling, so emerged on the way his tongue worked around your areola, throwing your head back. lost, just like him.

then, as the movements began to intensify, faster and faster and your hips more skillful, matías began to fuck you as he had been kissing you before. hungry, torpid and willing to satisfy you. his hands went down to the curve of your ass, pulling your body more and more impossibly onto his dick, your skin like dough in his hands, molding it the way he wanted it. the sounds of your body against his along with the breathing and cursing were totally obscene, becoming an impulse for you to seek more of it.

the stars in your eyes seemed to come close again as the sweat ran down your back, feeling complete with matías inside you. filled. it was an unforgettable and incomparable sensation. you knew you would become addicted.

“i never felt anything like this before, never” you heard matías say. your hands went up to his cheeks and hair, holding his face as you rode him nonstop. a smile stamped your face, reflecting his. “say you want me, and i’m yours” 

your stomach dropped, the feeling on your womb deepened. his tired voice saying things like this to you was so good to hear as the way he was fucking you. the cold current seized your abdomen again, as if warning you that you were close to cumming, and you could barely put the words together.

“don’t say that, matías. don’t play with me” you responded, looking into his eyes. 

matías was absorbed with pleasure but surely not saying things without meaning it. he shook his head negatively, thrusting more slowly against your hip now, making your eyes roll so hard they hurt.

“i’m being honest. say the word.” he sounded so serious, so close to your lips, so deep into you.

matías was slowly guiding your pleasure to a point where it was almost impossible to hold back an orgasm. then, you allowed yourself to let the sensation consume you once again, this time more intensely, your fingers twitched and your mind went into an almost unconscious state, eliciting a guttural moan from you. you felt the warm liquid drip from your womb and soak matías, it was almost like floating.

“i want you. god, how i want you” you exclaimed tenderly between ragged breaths, while the boy was still searching for that same sensation that you had just reached inside you.

it was enough for matías to completely collapse inside you, mumbling dumb your name. you felt his hot, sweaty body shudder beneath yours, relaxing completely little by little until he could open his eyes again. a feeling of satisfaction ran through your body, and you honestly had no idea if it was just from the dopamine of the orgasm or knowing that matías had been your first. and his arms were still there, wrapped around you while an affectionate gaze , while he admired you, all of you. the sweat going down your forehead, your smile, the weight of your body above him. everything, matías appreciated every second. you kissed him, a lazy and sloppy kiss, just enjoying that high together, and then a silly thought crossed your mind.

"i guess my brother was right to keep me away from the boys," you murmured, panting and giggling against his lips.

"who knew i would be the one," matías laughed too, biting your lip. "the lucky one for taking your virginity."

a slap on the arm caught him by surprise, and you feigned false offense, pretending to be completely innocent. but the calm didn't last long. five minutes of trying to get back to normal and you heard the keys in the door, the boys' voices, and footsteps inside. you were screwed, literally. you didn't even have time to dwell on the absence of aftercare.

"shit, shit, shit," you exclaimed in exasperation, getting up from on top of the boy, who quickly removed the condom, tossing it into the trash bin in the corner.

both of you nervously laughed, enjoying the situation as you tried to readjust. you tied your hair into a messy bun and then quickly tamed matías' strands. you were sweaty and red like two runners, anyone could tell by the little smiles on your faces.

"we'll still having talk about that," matías referred to the moment earlier, approaching and giving you a kiss, longer and deeper than it should be. but still, in a failed attempt to disguise it, you agreed, laughing, and pushed him out of the room.

and then, reality struck. your tank top. on the kitchen floor, damn.

you dressed in the first shirt you saw, probably a mistake, and went downstairs, walking as calmly and unbothered as possible. luckily, the boys were still in the living room while matías engaged in a seemingly casual conversation with them as if he didn't just came inside you. you suppressed the smile that came when you remembered the feeling of being on top of him just minutes ago, biting your lips, and entered the kitchen, finding agustin with a beer pack in one hand and your tank top in the other.

you froze right at the door, feeling the color drain from your face completely. and then, he looked in your direction, aware of your presence. he assessed your expression, your sudden change of clothes, and all the other little details. his gaze shifted over your shoulders to matías in the living room, and then, agustin laughed – no, he actually burst into laughter. laughed so hard that he had to lean against the fridge seeing your shocked state. you had been caught.

━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━

yeah. i'm shocked too.

i had so much fun - hornyness - writing this. thank you so much for the ask!! i really tried to follow your idea, just changed the phrase a litlle bit. i hope i made justice to your need ;)

again, if you have a request for the lsdln boys just please send me a ask!!

sorry for any spelling mistake :p

[baby-yongbok]

Fan Fiction

Skz/ Dom!Bang Chan x Sub!afab reader - Explicit Sexual Content, MDNI!

✨Masterlist ✨

Word Count: 5,257

Tags: Dom/Sub dynamics, penatrative sex, degradation, unprotected sex, teasing, overstimulation, breath play (mild), oral sex ( f & m receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms (reader), breeding??, creampie, established relationship, after care.

(Sorry if I missed any tags)

Notes: This is my first ever Skz AU, and I'm nervous but excited to share. Please be nice! Also, i posted this from my phone, so I'm sorry if the formatting is odd or anything. I'm kinda new to posting on here.

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to reflect or portray any of the members in real life!

I do not own the picture attached, credit to the owner. (Found on pinterest)

You woke up in a panic as your eyes searched for the glowing numbers on your alarm clock. As your vision became less blurry, you realized that it was still Sunday and you didn't sleep in and nearly miss work. Thank goodness. You've been trying to get rest whenever you could as of late. Your job was draining you beyond belief, and you had very little things that could help you relax, especially since Chan was always busy with work. You laid still for a while, staring up at the ceiling and pondering the possibilities… What could you do? How could you relax?

Without coming to a full thought you decide to pull yourself out of bed. Your naked feet felt cold against the hardwood and Goosebumps covered your naked legs. Chan always kept the air conditioner at 63 degrees and if you ever changed it he'd lose his mind. You pulled your feet lazily across the floor and let out a big yawn and stretch, stumbling a bit as you became lightheaded. Once you were steady you continued on your mindless journey to Chan's studio. The door was closed as always and you could hear a beat blaring from the speakers. Chan didn't like to be interrupted while he was mixing and told you to only knock if it were an emergency. You stood at the door mulling over your thoughts trying to think of the exact reason that you were going to knock on the door but nothing came to mind.

Fuck it.

You lifted your hand to knock but swiftly stopped once you heard the music on the other side stop. You took a step back with furrowed brows as you figured he was probably editing a section of the track. To your surprise the door swung open and your fiance towered over you as he took in the sight before him. You stood there clad in one of his t- shirts and pink lace panties as you stared up at him.

"I had a feeling you were out here. What're you doing? Eavesdropping? " a grin pulled at the corners of his mouth as he took a step forward to lace his strong arm around your waist and pull you into him.

"I wanted to see you but I heard you mixing so I just kinda… stood here. " Your sleepy brain spilled the truth immediately since you didn't feel the need to hide from him.

"You're always welcome into the studio, love." Your arms snaked around his waist as you hugged him sinking into his toned torso. " Well, I know I told you I don't like being interrupted but still, I always want to see my baby."

"I just woke up and I just… I don't know what to do with myself. It's only six o'clock and I'm just bored." With a sigh you loosen your grip around his waist.

"Hm, how about this, I'll finish mixing this song and then we can do something. Maybe order some take out? Play a board game? Whatever you'd like." Your big eyes glance up to him looking down at you with a sweet smile.

"How long until you're done?"

"Uh, give me thirty minutes, okay?" With another long sigh you let go of your fiancé completely.

"Okay." With a mumbled 'thank you' leaving his lips he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before letting you go and watching you as you slowly stalked back into your shared bedroom. You figure that you'll just spend the next thirty minutes scrolling through your phone looking at TikTok or something while you wait for Chan to finish up. That was until you accidentally pressed the Tumblr app on your phone and your old Stay account lit up your screen.

Oh

You had forgotten about your account, ever since the world blessed you with actually meeting, dating and now being engaged to your bias you didn't see any use for it. Of course you were still a fan but you see the boys as your ordinary friends now instead of world famous idols. Even with this logic fresh in your mind your finger began to scroll and you ended up getting lost in what used to be your world.

It's been two hours and Chan is still mixing. Usually this would bother you but you were too immersed in your virtual world to care. You were going back into your likes and reading all of the disgustingly sexy fan fictions that you liked three years ago. Some about Felix and Hyunjin but most of them about your fiancé.

You sat straight up when you came across the one. That one fan fiction that you used to go back to every time you needed that sweet release. Everytime you wanted to pretend that your fingers were Chan's, long before you knew what it actually felt like. Your excited fingers quickly pressed 'Keep Reading' as your eyes scanned the screen and arousal pools at your core. You read for what felt like hours but was probably only fifteen minutes. God did you love this fic. It was your dream till this day to get fucked like that by Chan. Rough and unrelenting. Forceful and Primal. You knew he was capable of doing it but only if you asked and God knows that you were way too shy to do that. In your day dreamy haze you decided to send the fan fiction to yourself so that you could have easy access to it instead of scrolling all the way down your likes every time you wanted to read it. You hit share and then sent it to yourself on messenger. It took a matter of seconds to pass and for you to come out of your daydream to realize that you were thinking of Chan so much that you sent it to him. Your heart dropped into your ass and you swear that your brown skin turned bright red with embarrassment. What do you do? How do you come back from this?

You weren't thinking straight, I mean how could you? You just sent your fiance a smutty fanfiction about him. You weren't thinking, you couldn't, you felt dizzy with the pressure that was building up in your head. You thought that maybe you could stop him from seeing it. You opened messenger and tried to unsend it but it only gave you the option to unsend for yourself. It was then when your worst nightmare came true. Chan's small profile picture on the side dropped down to the message indicating that he had seen it. Your heart stopped or at least you think it did. What were you supposed to tell him? Yes, he knew you were a fan when he got with you but you felt like exposing him to your fangirl world would make him look at you like just that, a fan.

You decided to wait. You weren't even worried about being bored anymore because your imagination had been keeping you very very entertained not to mention on edge. You kept wondering if Chan read the fanfiction or if he just looked at it and laughed before starting to work again. Did he love you any less for sending him fan made work? Or maybe he loves you less for even looking at it. Either way you were pretty sure that you were doomed.

"Alright, I know that, that was way more than thirty minutes and I'm so fucking sorry about that. I just wanted the track to be perfect." You jump at the sound of Chan's voice as he makes his way over to you on the bed and sits down pulling your legs into his lap. "We could still order take out, you must be starving."

He smiles over at you and you know that you must look like a deer caught in headlights with how big your eyes are, yet he says nothing. His smile is unwavering and you can't fathom why. Didn't he see what you sent him? Isn't he disgusted?

"So…? Thai or maybe Italian? We haven't had that in awhile." Chan pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through uber eats mindlessly. "Chicken?"

You decide to take a deep breath and try to compose yourself. If he doesn't say anything about it than fuck it neither will you. Forcing a smile onto your face you try to scoot closer to him and get comfortable. He swiftly welcomes you into his arms and pulls you into his lap so that you can browse together.

"Chicken sounds good but now you got me wanting Italian." You add with a playful forced smile.

"Italian it is, mama." You freeze for a second staring over at your fiancé as he picks an Italian restaurant to order from. He never calls you that, why would he call you that? Are you overreacting? Maybe he just wanted to try something new.

"Do you want your usual?" He asks looking up at you and catching your confused gaze. "Are you alright? "

"Yeah… I'm, uh, fine." No. You were not fine. That was a big fat lie. You were confused but mostly turned on by the new term of endearment. You slowly pressed your thighs together as you heard it echo through your head. The fan fics you read earlier weren't helping either, you were already hot and bothered as it is then he goes and calls you that?

"So, your usual?" You nod your head yes and continue to let your mind race.

"Alright, it'll be here in 25 minutes. Do you wanna watch a movie or something while we wait?" You shrug mindlessly, staring past Chan's face. "Hey, are you alright? You seem off, baby."

Straightening up and looking down at him you smile and try your best to get out of your head, and that nearly works before Chan puts his hand on the back of your neck rubbing his finger along the soft sensitive skin on the side of your neck. "I'm okay" you choke out as the feeling of his big hand on your neck sends chills down your spine.

"Alright, well I'm here if you want to talk, mama." There he goes again. You press your thighs together quickly before getting up off of his lap.

"Let's watch TV, yeah?" Chan smiles over at you as he quickly and nonchalantly scans your entire body taking in your bare legs and lace covered core.

"Sounds good, baby."

The food came and went quickly since the two of you were hungrier than you realized. You watched various random television shows and finished the end of a movie that Chan swears used to be his favorite. The two of you decided to pack it in maybe fifteen minutes ago. You've already showered and changed into a more comfortable cotton pair of red panties and another one of your fiance's shirts. You slid into bed and stared up at the ceiling as you waited on Chan to finish up his shower. You had pretty much forgotten about today's fuck up since he hadn't brought it up to you. It also helped to distract yourself with TV and food but there was still a lingering feeling deep in your chest. Something was off, you just didn't know what. You had noticed that he was extra attentive while the two of you spent time together. He made continuous eye contact that you couldn't seem to keep up with and his hand kept finding its way to the back of your neck. Not to mention that damned name he kept calling you.

The sound of the bathroom door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. You sat up to ask Chan how his shower was but instantly went dry at the mouth when you took in the sight in front of you. His dark hair was wet, some strands sticking to his forehead. He was shirtless with nothing but Grey sweatpants on and bare feet.

Holy fuck

You couldn't help but to stare, how could you do anything else with a man like that in front of you. The three years that you've spent together should have prepared you to see him like this. Hell, you've seen all of this man and probably know him better than he knows himself but there was something about the way that he looked right now that just threw you off. It almost felt familiar to you, you just couldn't put a finger on it.

"Do you work tomorrow, baby?" He asked as he looked over at you from under the towel he was using to dry his hair.

"Uh, yeah I do." You could barely get that sentence out as your eyes locked with his. There was a particular gleam in his eye that you didn't quite recognize but you knew he was up to something.

"Hm, I better make this quick then. It would be irresponsible of me to keep you up all night." He throws the towel he was using over to the hamper and starts to slowly stalk over to the bed. "Don't you think so, mama?"

Your brain went to mush instantly as you took in his dark tone and even darker eyes. It was at this moment that you were sure he read it. Everything clicked for you now. The name, the touches, even his outfit, it all came from that one fanfiction.

He crawled onto the bed and over to you slowly like a lion hunting its prey. In an instant he was on top of you. Looking down at you with his burning brown eyes. You couldn't help but to look away and over to the side but that was no use. You felt as his hand slowly snaked up your body and his thumb and pointer finger rested on your chin turning your head to face him.

"What is it? Is my little kitty shy?" You pushed your thighs together involuntarily. "It's just me baby, don't worry, I'm going to take such good care of you. "

"Chan I-" He lifted his finger to stop you from talking.

"What's my name baby?" His tone was dark and demanding as he stared down at you. Dropping down to his forearm next to your head he moved in to whisper into your ear. "I want you to call me by my name when I ruin you."

You were breathless and paralyzed. You racked your brain for the right answer even though you knew exactly what it was. You've called him by his name before so why should this be any different? Why was this so different?

"Chris - Christopher." A dark chuckle left his lips as he lifted himself up to look into your eyes again.

"That's my girl." Turning your head to the side with one finger he wasted no time littering kisses and love bites all over the exposed skin milking small moans from your lips as you desperately pressed your thighs together. "So you want me to break you, huh? "

You freeze as you realize that he's reciting lines from the very fanfiction that you accidentally sent him.

"You want me to fuck you senseless, mama?" He lightly bites at your collarbone before licking up your neck and planting a kiss behind your ear.

"I can do that." His right hand snakes down your body, his nails digging in lightly as he makes his way to your clothed heat. "Oh, baby"

He harshly but slowly rubs on your clothed core taking in the wetness seeping through your panties.

"You're fucking soaked." His eyes burn into yours as he rubs you over your underwear. You try your best to maintain eye contact but you can't help but to let your eyelids flutter shut every time he caresses your clit. "Eyes on me, mama"

You force your eyes open and look up at Chris as he rubs tight circles around your clit using your arousal as lube against your panties. "Let me hear you."

It wasn't until then that you realized that you had been holding your breath. With a shaky sigh you let out a moan and then you just can't stop. The moans just kept falling from your lips and the sound only encouraged Chris to do more. Before you know it he's moved your panties to the side and is tracing lines up and down your slick cunt. He barely touches your clit as he tries to build you up as high as he can. The higher he can get you the harder the crash will be.

"You want to see what you do to me, Jagi?" You frantically nod in response earning a smile from Chris. He pulls his hand away from your core painfully slowly and sits up on his knees straddling you. In one swift motion he dips his sweatpants down and lets his thick cock free from its restraint. You've seen it a million times but right now it feels new. "Look at how hard you've got Daddy's dick."

A moan fell from your lips at the sound of his filthy words. He was always good at dirty talk but this was different. He was playing out a written fantasy right now and your pussy just couldn't take it.

"Chris, please." He looked down at you with furrowed brows as you begged.

"Please what, mama?" He asked as he began pumping his length slowly, teasingly.

"Fuck" you moaned at the sound and the sight in front of you. "Fuck me, please." A chuckle fell from his lips as he watched you squirm under him.

"You're so needy, baby." You groaned at him in frustration. Was he really going to tease you? He was already basically acting out a fanfiction right in front of you. Did he have to add the teasing? You rolled your eyes at him instinctively. You found yourself doing that a lot and usually he thought it was cute but today was different. You watched as his free hand dipped down and grabbed your face and he stared down at you silently for what felt like hours but were merely seconds.

"Did you just roll your fucking eyes at me?" He got off of you while keeping a firm grip on your face. "Someone needs to be put in their place.

Without another word he roughly guided you over to his exposed length and tapped the head of his cock on your red lips. "Open your mouth and suck this dick."

You were taken aback to say the least. Chan was the type of guy who was more of a soft dom and didn't demand you to do much, especially not in such a dark domineering tone. You couldn't stop yourself even if you tried. It's like a button was pressed and your mouth was open, your tongue out and ready to taste your fiancé. He smiled down at you and slowly slid his cock into your mouth filling you up to the hilt. His head fell back in euphoria and he hissed a curse into the air.

You bobbed your head slowly at first trying to get him used to the sensation of your mouth around him but clearly he had other plans.

"Come on, you can do better than that." Both of his hands found their way into your curly hair and gripped the root making sure to not pull too hard. He began guiding you and moving your head faster and faster each time you came up from the hilt. It wasn't long before you began to gag around him with every stroke, your eyes watering from the choking.

"Fuck, Mamas, that mouth is filthy." You looked up at him with your big watering eyes as he looked down at you with his dark ones. You wanted to make him feel good but right now his rough nature was making you weak for him. Could it be possible that you feel better than he does right now? Having your mouth be used for his pleasure could be the very thing that drives you over the edge.

He continued to guide your head up and down his shaft until he suddenly stopped. Pushing your head down to swallow him completely. He forced you to stay in place temporarily, cutting off your air supply and making you gag and choke around him.

"Be good, slut, take it." Your eyes began to water, tears flowing down your cheeks. He pulled you up off of him, completely freeing his cock from your mouth. You gasped as he watched you intently paying attention to your body language.

"What's your color?" You had almost forgotten about the Stoplight system that Chris put in place as safe words for you. You were too focused on your pleasure and his to remember much else.

"Green" He smiles down at you before taking one hand out of your hair and grabbing the back of your neck.

"Good" He sinks his cock back into your throat as he holds you down once again cutting off your air supply " You're such a good hole"

His moans and growls are what keep you going as you gag around him. He pulls you off once again before pushing you back onto the bed. You gasp at the sudden change as he grabs your ankles and pulls your ass to the edge of the bed. Wrapping your legs around him he leans down to finally kiss your wet lips. The kiss was passionate and rough like it was meant to mark you. This was the kiss of a man who wanted you to know who you belong to. He swiped his tongue across your bottom lip asking for access that you gladly granted. His tongue explored your mouth. He tasted of sweet spearmint and the smell of his pheromones filled your nostrils. You hadn't even realized that you began grinding your clothed core on his exposed cock until he bit your lip with a hiss warning you to stop, but you couldn't. You needed him, you were desperate to feel him. If anything his warning only made you grind harder and faster against him. The feeling of his cockhead grinding against your clit was euphoric and you only wanted more as time went on.

"Naughty little toy." Chris growled as he broke the kiss. "If it's my dick that you want then that's what you're gonna get."

Grabbing the back of your thighs Chris swiftly picked you up and turned you both around so that you were against the wall. Your legs tightened around him as you squealed. You've done this position once or twice but it's been so long.

"I'm going to make you fall apart on my cock, mama." He buried himself into the crook of your neck being much rougher this time. He bites at the skin leaving marks that you're sure you'll have to cover up in the morning. He growled into your ear making you moan as you tried your best to grind against him. The both of you were growing impatient but you knew you couldn't move until Chris did.

Finally, he moves your panties to the side and teases your entrance with his cock. "Please, Chris, I need you so badly baby. Ruin me, please." A groan leaves his lips as he looks into your pleading eyes.

"You sound so pathetic, baby. You want to be fucked?" He slips his cock into you faster than he usually does but slow enough to allow you to adjust. "Here you go, kitty."

You cry out instantly moaning his name like your life depended on it. He bounced you on his cock picking up the pace with every stroke. He growled curse words in your ear every time you took him all the way, your walls tightening at the sensation.

"Shit, baby, you're so tight around me." Your head fell back against the wall in pure bliss. "Tell me you like it, let me hear you."

"You feel so fucking good Chris. You fuck me so good." Your praise only made him pick up the pace, turning your moans into gaspy screams.

"Fuck, oh my god, Chris… yes, please, yes. " Words mindlessly fell from your mouth as he pounded into you. Sweat dripping from his forehead as he fucked you senseless just as he promised.

"That's it, take it baby." His cock was hitting just the right spot and he stretched you out perfectly. The fact that this position felt so new to you didn't help to contain the arousal brimming over and spilling from your pussy. You felt a knot in your stomach and your toes started to burn as you got closer and closer to your release. That's when he said the magic words.

"Don't you dare fucking cum." The words came out as a breathy growl. It wasn't a demand this time, it was a threat. You whined as you tried your best to contain your growing orgasm but it just kept creeping up on you.

"Please, let me cum, Please Daddy I'm so close." He groaned at you calling him daddy, something he loved but would never admit to anyone else.

"Don't you dare." He growled again, making you whine. You tried, you really did but you just couldn't contain it. Your pussy clenched around him sucking him in like a vacuum and that's when he knew. " Y/N, don't you fucking cum"

That's all he had to say to throw you over the edge. The way he said your name with that darkness lingering on his tongue sent a shock straight to your clit. You couldn't stop it, you tried so hard but you couldn't stop. Your legs shook around him as your orgasm came crashing down. He didn't stop fucking you he only picked up the pace once he realized that you had cum. His thrusts were shorter and harder, he was punishing you.

"Oh, you've done it now." He fucked into you like he hadn't had sex in years. He'd gone feral for you and all you could do was cry out as your sensitive cunt got abused by his cock. To add fuel to the fire he snaked one of his hands in between the two of you to rub your sensitive clit as he pounded into you throwing you into an overstimulation spiral.

"Chris I- I can't take it." Tears welled up in your eyes as he made you feel so painfully good. It was so much but somehow you found yourself wanting more.

"Find a way to." Was all he said as he continued to abuse your aching cunt. "You should've listened."

His strokes were getting sloppier and his moans were getting louder as he felt you clench around him desperately. The knot in your core building up again.

"I'm going to fill you up so good." He moaned into your ear as his orgasm creeped up his spine. "Fuck, yes, I'm cumming baby. "

Just like that you felt Chan's warm sticky cum coat your walls. The same walls that were now sore and desperate for release again.

"Yes, thank you, daddy. Thank you." He fucked his cum into with a few more pumps before turning and laying you back onto the bed. You both panted, trying your best to catch your breath. You were in a daze, a happy cum drunk daze. You couldn't believe that he actually did what was in that fanfiction but God you were grateful.

"So, you want to be a disobedient whore, huh?" Your eyes shoot open as your fiancé's dark tone catches your attention. "You needed to cum, right?"

You slowly shake your head yes and a knowing smile is painted on Chan's face. "Then here." His hand pops against your pussy spanking it as his cum drips from your wet hole.

"Cum again." Chris drops to his knees teasingly slow and pulls you closer to him by your thighs.

"Chris I- .. Fuck." Before you can finish your sentence his tongue runs a hot stripe up your cunt. He groans as he tastes both you and himself in the mixture of arousal. "Oh my gosh"

He continues to lick and taste you wrapping his lips around your swollen and sensitive clit. His tongue flicks at the nub with slow and firm pressure keeping up his rhythm as he circles your clit. You turn into a hip bucking mess at the amount of pleasure you are feeling right now. It's so much but you want more. Your hands find a home in Chris' wet hair as you start to grind into his mouth. He hums his approval in response as he moves his head back and forth to give you more friction, the perfect formula. You feel your orgasm creep up your legs and it's moving faster and stronger than any one you've ever had before. Your vision goes dark and the grip you have on Chris' hair tightens as you scream for him.

"Fuck, Chris, I'm cumming." Your high washes over you like a storm. Your body shaking against his mouth as he continues to fuck you with his tongue helping you ride out your orgasm. High pitched moans leave your lips and you struggle against his tongue as it continues to taste you. Your vision starts to go white when he finally lets go of his hold over you.

"Such a greedy slut." Chris chuckles as you try your best to catch your breath.

"Are you alright? " He asks as he pulls up his sweatpants and plops down next to you pulling you into his arms. "Take it slow, in and out, baby. "

"I- I'm fine" you finally get out in a breathy reply.

"Good, you were amazing, Jagi" He pulls you into a tight hug and you turn to put your leg over his body as you finally find a comfortable breathing rhythm.

"You were better." Chris smiles down at you with knowing eyes.

"Well, you have your little fan fiction to thank for that. I would've never been that rough with you otherwise. I didn't realize that you like being bossed around so much. " A blush creeps up on your cheeks as you hide your face at the mention of the fanfiction. You had almost forgotten about it.

"I'm so embarrassed. I never meant to send you that."

"Hey, don't be embarrassed." He lifts your chin so that your eyes meet his. "I'm glad you accidentally sent it to me. I want to please you in every way that I can and if you want it a little rougher in the bedroom that's fine. I can do that for you. I'm happy to please you, Y/N"

"Did you enjoy it too?" Chris laughs with a wide smile and nods his head.

"Hell yeah I did. You felt amazing and I really liked topping you like that."

"Good" You say with a blush.

"Okay, well, it's one in the morning so we need to get some sleep but first I know you've gotta be thirsty."

"Yeah, my throat is pretty dry."

"Great, I'll get us some water before round two." With a smile Chris jumps up out of bed and jogs out of the room and down to the kitchen leaving you yelling behind him.

"What do you mean round two?!" You plop your head down on the bed and sigh with a smile. "This fan fiction has created a monster

[merakiui]

long-distance love.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, phone sex, obsession, power imbalance, kidnapping, implied (cyber)stalking, non-con touching, characters written as 18+ note - sea witch, the magicord mod you've had intimate online relations with, is closer than you thought.

Sea Witch is a busy man.

His weekly schedules are almost always packed to bursting, each event meticulously arranged into open slots as if aiming to form a perfect puzzle. Times never conflict; he’s particular about how he spends his hours, and very rarely does he allow himself a break. It has always been work, work, work. He’s one of the city’s most affluent, eligible bachelors and yet he’s married to his business. Those who lust after him think it’s a wasteful shame. Azul finds it to be a relief far greater than any he’s ever known. He will never compromise the enterprise he’s built from the ground up just because of some flimsy, fickle feelings.

Originally, he had no interest in Magicord, a messaging platform that grants people from all over the world the chance to congregate on specific servers for mutual interests like anime and gaming. He only downloaded it because Idia Shroud, a fellow friend and business partner, lived and breathed the app, his online presence so profound it was almost like a second home. He’d swipe away notifications from his actual messaging app, too busy in a voice call with his group of dungeon raiders to bother answering important calls.

So he resolved to get on Idia’s level in hopes of improving communication. Although Idia’s level, as Azul often noted, was not exactly a place he wanted to be. While Magicord could be used for business purposes, that wasn’t what drew people in. Azul of all people knew very well which target audiences were being reached with apps like Magicord, and he was not one of them.

“To think I’d stoop as low as this,” Azul had once groused over a phone call with Idia, who was giving him quite a lengthy, not-very-needed-but-also-very-much-needed rundown on Magicord’s inner workings. “I hardly have time to play games, let alone socialize on this…app.”

“Aren’t you always going on about how adaptable you are?” Idia sniped back, not in the mood for normie criticism. The sound of clacking keys could be heard on his end. “And you’re the one who asked. Kinda defeats the purpose of learning if you’re just gonna complain.”

Azul rolled his eyes. “I fail to see the logic in downloading another app just to ensure my messages reach you. Honestly, you ought to start checking your email. Or, at the very least, go through your missed call and text logs.”

Alas, Idia had been stubbornly adamant about his preferences and so, much to his displeasure, Azul was forced to undergo something of a Magicord Training Camp until he emerged a pro. And being a pro meant knowing how to navigate his own profile and toggle between that and Idia’s, which was really the only tip he needed because that was all he’d use the app for.

But Azul has always had an innate itch for wanting to know something from top to bottom, inside-out, and the idea of not knowing every little detail about Magicord drove him insane. If there was an opportunity he could capitalize on, why should he risk squandering it with his elementary-level knowledge? So he spent his rare slivers of free time playing around in there, creating a server and wondering who could ever become so attached to an app when the world beyond the screen was filled with just as many, if not more, social encounters.

His introverted side understood the appeal. In fact, he loved the idea of hiding behind a manufactured persona online. He didn’t have to be Azul Ashengrotto on Magicord. Rather, he could rid himself of his dislikable traits and become an entity—an idea or a concept—rather than a flawed man who others might scrutinize ruthlessly.

So he became Sea Witch, and within just a week he’d constructed quite the comfortable server. The invite link was spread throughout the various branches of Mostro. It would provide employees with an online sanctuary, where they could easily connect should doing so in person prove complicated (as had been the case regarding Idia, which was the sole reason he’d even poured so much time into this effort). Most of all, it gave Azul the chance to keep watch from afar, silently sitting in wait and curating a collection of mostly unimportant intel. Mere gossip, if anything.

But gossip is just as good as the next scandal. He likes to be prepared, a razored edge on all sides.

As far as the company was concerned, no one knew who this Sea Witch character was and no one knew who spread the link. And as far as individual employees knew, this was likely just some overworked intern’s labor of love—a well-crafted server intended to function as a digital gathering place for those exhausted after a long day. And that was mostly true, but all of the potential blackmail he could gather, the information he could glean, and even the people he could keep a closer eye on in an online setting—all of that paled in comparison to the real prize he’d attained. This was of great importance. It was something that altered the course of his life, opened his eyes to the brilliant beauty of a first love.

It was there in that undersea-themed haven where he met you, the one who would add flavorful spice to the once bland, boring meal that was his life. And just after a few weeks of simple, cordial conversation, he realized a single taste of your kind companionship wouldn’t be enough to sate him.

Greedy to a fault, Azul wanted you in your entirety.

Which brings him to the present, where he’s currently leaning back into the expensive leather of his driver’s seat. He’s parked on a silent strip of road, in a more residential part of the city. It’s not very busy here, and his windows are tinted to avoid immediate recognition. Rush hour won’t hit until later, and he’s not due for any conferences. He has time. Plenty of it to spare on this little excursion.

“I wanna meet you, Sea Witch,” you admit, nearly whining through the phone. “Where’re you from? Maybe we’re in the same area.”

Azul smiles at your impatience. You just can’t get enough of him, can you?

Every weekend, you hop into a VC with him and chat for hours on end. At first he simply provided a listening ear when you wished to rant through text or call. You’d voice all sorts of complaints. Azul filed them away in the event that they might be useful in the future, initially intending to use such information to ruin you should you prove to be someone worth ruining. But the more he spent listening and scrawling notes on blank paper, the more he realized you were just overworked and struggling financially.

Upon making these connections and learning all sorts of facts from you regarding your life beyond Magicord, he felt compelled to help. Out of the goodness of his heart, of course, ever the benevolent saint. And you weren’t complaining when he offered to pay you for your time. In exchange for two hours of conversation, he’d provide you with the funds you needed to afford your necessities.

Somehow, throughout many months of give and take—with his giving being on the jaw-droppingly exorbitant side, always one to top his own ludicrous generosity—your hours-long conversations would sink beneath the surface of mere companionship. It was one-sided intimacy. Azul was careful with what he shared, building a mostly secretive profile for himself. He didn’t want to risk tarnishing your fondness for Sea Witch by sharing details that felt more like Azul and less like the effortlessly funny, charming, and eloquent Magicord mod you’d originally made contact with.

You didn’t seem to worry about compromising your own privacy, easily divulging a variety of fun tidbits about your life. You’d share the tiniest of details and he’d eat it up every time, hungering for more than just crumbs. That time you sent him a photo of the octopus macarons you’d bought from a local bakery because you were thinking of him? He remembers it well, and he’s constantly reminded of it when you text him about things you did over the weekend or hobbies you basked in. Sending photos of your houseplants, asking him for his opinion on clothes you were hoping to buy (which he was always more than willing to sponsor; all you needed to do was send the link and he’d purchase it), and even trusting him enough to fall asleep in the VC with him (arguably one of his favorite things about your unique relationship).

And he called it unique not because it was a bad sort of strange. Rather, it was unique in the refreshing sense. He’d never had an online friend before, let alone someone who would so willingly and readily indulge him. Granted, this willingness stemmed from the deal he’d cut with you and so you were really only doing these things for your own gain. But then so was he. It was a relationship built upon necessity. You needed money to survive, and he needed you.

So it was okay to fall into sleazy fantasies. It was all an act anyway, and it wasn’t like you judged him or his preferences. At least, not outright. If you did, it was silent. You were considerate and sweet; and you really did consider him a friend. Or so he hoped. If your casual conversations were any proof, it was obvious there was some sort of enjoyment and trust there.

Friendship or something more, he would have you. Whether that meant in the safety of his pocket, enclosed within his mobile phone forever, or in his penthouse, tucked away in his bedroom—he’d have you.

“I’m from a city, yes,” he answers, purposely cryptic.

“Obviously. Come onnn, Witchy. Don’t you wanna meet me, too?”

“I do, and one day we’ll meet. I promise.”

He listens to your irritated groan and his cock twitches in his slacks. Good god, your voice is a blessing—more heavenly than a cherubic choir.

“One day isn’t today, though.”

“Perhaps not.” He speaks to distract you from the rustling fabric of his pressed suit as his hand strays further. He spies his reflection in the rearview mirror, notes the flash in his irises. If only you were here, sitting beside him in the passenger seat. If only he could slide his own seat as far back as it would go, lie still and serene, and let you climb into his lap to spear yourself on his erection. Genuine leather be damned. He wanted your scent, your essence, your everything engraved into the very interior. “Humor me—if we were to meet right now, what would you like to do?”

“Mm, I’d want to get a good look at the man I’ve been talking to for nine months now.”

“Oh, you’ve kept track?”

“You haven’t?” Your laughter is fluffy and light—authentic amusement. “And I’d want to memorize your face so that I’ll never forget it.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because I’m so curious! You know what I look like—”

“Not entirely,” he interjects, sly and silver-tongued. “You’re a portrait half-finished in my mind. Not yet sketched to completion.”

And it’s true. From your shoulders down, you are a faceless beauty. He’s seen you nearly naked and fully clothed, in frills and lace, in latex and ribbons, in satin and chiffon. And yet, for all of the skin you’ve shown, he can’t place a face (or a real name, for that matter) to your body.

“Okay, poet,” you tease, and he’s already palming himself through the fine fabric of his trousers. “But I’ve still never seen an inch of you. You’ve never even sent a dick pic.”

“You’ve never asked.”

“Can I have one now?”

���Nice try.”

“Asshole!” you gripe, clicking your tongue in disappointment. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“I’m aware,” he hums, squeezing himself, his breath coming out faint and haggard.

Yeah, he’s the worst. But then you’re the best at eliciting these sorts of reactions from him. The effect you have on him is utterly enthralling. Your ability to reduce him to a pliable puddle in just a few words—a mere few lighthearted, hollow insults—is truly impressive. He’d feel ashamed of himself if it wasn’t so good.

“You’re probably not even that big.”

“Would you like an exact measurement?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to measure it in person? See how many inches I could fit inside. I’ve been practicing with that dildo you sent me—the one shaped like a tentacle,” you purr, frustratingly coy. He wants your sinful lips wrapped around his dick right now—wants to fuck your throat sore and raw. Wants nothing more than to spill heavy and hot on your tongue so you’ll taste him for days. “If we met up, we could make that happen. Sooo, where’s my Sea Witch from? What part of the world?”

“Patience, angelfish.”

Even though he says so, he’s practically vibrating with excitement as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth. Soon. So soon. Very, very soon.

And then…

He imagines you rolling your eyes with your next words. “Fine, fine. I’ll be patient. But that’s not gonna stop me from fantasizing.”

“Well, what do you think I look like?”

“Now isn’t that a fun question?” You mull it over. He can tell because you mutter a variety of ums and hmms in that soft, sweet voice of yours. “I think you’re tall and you have a handsome face that matches your equally handsome voice.”

“Yeah?” he encourages, undoing the belt, button, and zip on his pants one-handed. “What else?”

Your giggles filter into his ears, seeming closer than they actually are due to the wireless earbuds he’s wearing. “From what I’ve gathered, you seem to have expensive tastes.”

Sitting in his lavish, one-of-a-kind, custom-made sports car, Azul thinks you would be correct.

“I wonder what gave it away…” he drawls, his voice creeping an octave lower.

He places his phone in the cup holder, reaching to open the glove compartment and retrieving a tiny bottle of lube. Squirting a scant amount on his palm, he fishes himself, throbbing and pathetically hard, out of his boxers. His slick hand is a warm, welcome embrace around his silky-smooth shaft. He sucks in a breath through grit teeth, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Mhm, I wonder. It’s not the fact that you told me I should just buy a designer bag for work when I asked for recommendations. And it’s certainly not your ability to get me lots of nice gifts as if it’s nothing. So maybe it’s just your excessive generosity that makes you seem so rich?”

“Sure, we’ll go with that.”

“Speaking of that, what do you do for a living?”

“Guess.”

“Okay, Mr. Mysterious… Um… Hm. I think you’re a pilot.”

The whiplash that assumption brings is so seismically jarring he thinks he might go flaccid. Gripping himself with renewed vigor, he slides his fist along his length, slow and perfunctory, picturing you under his desk, your mouth open wide to receive him…

“A pilot… Mm, no, not quite.”

“Aw. My second guess was gonna be a contract killer. They make lots of money.”

“You have quite the wild imagination, angelfish. Even if I was one, do you think I’d admit that to you?”

“Maybe,” you tease. He pictures your smirk as it twists your perfect, pretty lips into something wicked. “For the right price, yeah?”

“Oh? Do elaborate.”

Please. Please keep going. Don’t stop talking. I need to hear you, closer, louder, clearer… More.

“What sort of price would I have to pay to get Sea Witch to spill his secrets?” you muse, your voice a tantalizing curl of syllables, but he suspects you already know the answer to your hypothetical. “I can’t offer you money, so you’d have to settle for something a little more…physical.”

He shivers, nodding his agreement even though you can’t see it. “Physical’s good,” he mumbles, foregoing eloquence in favor of filth. “Much better than—mm—than money…”

“Yeah? All right. Let’s see… You’re well-off and you might or might not be a contract killer. Do you wear suits?”

“I do.”

“Ooh, so you’re one of those contract killers.”

Azul can’t help it; he laughs, the sound tumbling out in a breathy gasp. “I prefer looking nice at all times.”

Languidly, his hand continues its idle pumping. He cracks his eyes open to peer at the pre-cum beading at the tip.

“Even if you’re just going to get messy?”

“Explicate the situation that’s leading me to soil my clothes. Details, angelfish.”

“Well, if you’re a killer who wears suits, you wouldn’t like even the smallest stain. It ruins your image, but if it was me…” You pause, probably for effect, and it works. His back arches with anticipation, fingers closing tighter. “You’d make an exception.”

“I would,” he admits far too quickly. “Always.”

“So you really would out yourself as a killer if I spread my legs for you?”

“No, but I’d let you dirty my suits.”

“Good. They’ll look better on the floor anyway.”

His breath hitches. Fuck, your every word is a siren’s song, leading him deeper into mist-clouded waters. He’d keep you pinned on his cock all day if he could. Why should you continue to work your mundane job when you could spend your precious hours with him instead? He’ll be your job. Seven days a week, during each of the breaks he’ll pencil into his schedules, you can visit him and he can empty all of his stress into you. And you’ll take it because you’re such an obedient sweetheart for him, always so ready to please your master.

He prays you can’t hear the salacious squelch of skin on skin as he works himself towards the edge, but a nastier part of him wants you to listen in so you’ll be reminded that this is your fault. No one else can possibly make him this messy. No one else is capable of rendering him a clumsy, lovestruck fool. You’re probably well aware of these facts, having brought him to this same edge numerous times in the past. Sometimes you would reach that tipping point alongside him, your gasps and groans joining his in an obscene duet.

Neither of you decided upon today’s development, but he thinks—knows—you’re intentionally stringing him along. You want this as much as he does.

“So was I right? You’re totally a contract killer?”

“I’m a businessman, angelfish,” he corrects, a silly, drunken smile softening his jaw. You make him feel so stupid, so warm and fond.

“So basically the same thing. Just as ruthless, no?”

“Please, you wound me. I’m always kind.”

“Ah, so there are others who get this treatment? And I thought I was the only one…”

“You are. No one could ever compare to you.”

He intends to tack my love onto the sentence’s end, but he stops himself. You’re not his love. Not really. You’re his angelfish, sure, but that’s different. That’s just a pet name befitting the aquatic theme he masquerades behind. And you’re not really Azul’s. You’re Sea Witch’s.

It’s Sea Witch you know and love. Beyond that, Azul is just Azul. And he’s nothing like the ideal he’s cultivated on Magicord.

He sighs and forces himself out of the turbulent trenches of his withering self-esteem. Now is not the time to contemplate which version of himself you’d be more preferential to.

You’ll have no choice but to love the real him. Soon.

“Really? I feel so special.” Impressed, you whistle and add, “I’ve gotta make you feel special, too.”

“You already have—”

“Not inside the VC. Come on, Sea Witch, don’t you wanna meet me?”

“I do. I really do,” he babbles dumbly, grinding his thumb into his slit and smearing pre-cum. He grits his teeth and tamps down a colorful word. How he yearns for this to be your hand wrapped around his length, tugging him to that far-off finish line. “I want nothing more than to—t-than to see you, all of you, in person…”

“So what’s stopping you? I could do a lot more in person than I can over the phone.” He has a smart reply for that, but it sticks in his throat. Pitifully, like the rightful debauched mess he is, he groans, low and guttural. “Let me turn the question on you, Sea Witch. If we were to meet today, what would you like to do to me?”

So many things, he thinks, a litany of smutty imagery flickering through his head.

But Sea Witch is classy (most days) and today is one of those instances. Or at least he’s going to make an attempt, however weak it may be.

“Take you to dinner,” he mumbles, executing jerky, quick motions in a daze, his cock weeping for release. He throws his head back, peers up at the interior roof of his car, and inhales sharply. “Take you all over the city if it pleases… I’d spoil you with so much finery—dress you up and then tear every article off…”

“And then?”

“And—god, fuck—wanna be inside you, angelfish… So badly—need you so badly. I wanna feel you and kiss you and hold you.”

He’s unraveling, strings pulled taut and fraying to extremity. Azul bucks into his hand and imagines it’s you, tight and warm, a sweet, snug embrace. He opens and closes his mouth, intending to beg you for more, but all that slips out are the tiniest huffs and grunts. He’s so wrapped up in his own ardor that he almost misses your quiet pants, every breath squeezed out of you as if you’re struggling to withhold your gratuitous moans. And it’s deplorable, really, the way his ears prick at these muffled sounds, the way his cock stands rigidly at attention, the way he’s falling through fragments of filthy fantasies, each one so close and yet impossibly far.

“I want you, too,” you mewl, tone wavering between shameless thrill and some sort of seventh heaven.

He wonders what you’re using to pleasure yourself. Are your fingers, slick and curled, rubbing up against those perfect, pretty spots that have you seeing stars? Or are you using the toys he purchased for your enjoyment? Maybe you’re lowering yourself onto the dildo right now, gummy walls clenching around girthy silicone. And maybe you’re tugging at your nipples, massaging them between the pads of your fingers, or maybe you’ve swapped skin-to-skin for a bullet vibrator instead.

Maybe—just maybe—it’s the mere thought of him that sets your flesh aflame with an intoxicating desire.

“And I want you—” you gasp, and his mind travels to all of the risqué photos you’ve sent, each one saved in a password-protected album on his phone— “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything before. I want you to show me that no one else can compare to you. I want you to—mmh, hah—to hold me down in bed and fuck me until my legs are sore and I can’t walk.”

I will, he thinks, lashes fluttering on his cheekbones. He strokes himself quickly, chest heaving, tongue near-lolling out of his mouth as he pants like a hound in heat. I’ll do all of that and so much more. I’ll fuck every coherent thought out of your pretty head, keep you just smart enough to rely on me, turn you into the prettiest sea flower who’ll only blossom for me.

“I promise, angelfish. I promise I���ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted,” he vows, his nerves alight with lustful delight, “and you’ll never know misfortune again.”

“I—oh! I’m close, so close! Please, Sea Witch! Please don’t stop. Please fill me up and make me yours!”

The sheer vulgarity twined through amatory vehemence, coupled with his own hurried pace, has him tumbling down the slope, arousal peaking and spilling over in thick, creamy spurts. He has half a mind to catch his spend before it can ruin the pristine interior of his car, and he blinks down at the semen sullying his palm. Idly, he rubs his fingers together to test the viscosity, wondering how his fluids would look on your face, your stomach, your ass—or even pooling out of your hole in plentiful amounts.

That fantasy is enough to send blood rushing right back to his softening cock, and he wills those thoughts away with logic—complex calculations and the financial forecast for Mostro. There will be plenty of time to indulge in sexual cravings later. He reminds himself of this while he tamps down his zeal, his heart relaxing in his ribs as he sits with the slowly ebbing aftershocks of orgasm.

You seem to be doing much the same, for you’ve gone perfectly quiet.

“Everything all right, angelfish?” he whispers after a few minutes, his breath now evened out.

“Mm, yeah. All good over here. Messy, but good.”

“I’m comforted knowing we’re in the same boat.” He chuckles while fumbling to dig a cotton handkerchief from the depths of his suit jacket. He cleans the cum and residual lube from off his hands and dick before neatly tucking himself away. Soon, there will be no need for this charade. Soon, he can adore all of you from beyond the screen. “Angelfish, there’s something I’d like to tell you.”

“What’s up?” you murmur, your own voice settling into its usual cheery cadence. He suspects you’re just putting on an act to sound happier. That will change when you’re reunited in person because it will be real. Because there will be no point in pretending through the phone.

“Well…” Azul smiles, folds and unfolds the sodden handkerchief, and then straightens his posture. He should be on his way now. “Ah, it’s nothing. Never mind it. I’ll tell you later.”

“Whaaat? But you’ve made me so curious now. Don’t just leave me in suspense!”

“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to remain in that suspense indefinitely.”

“Ugh. You’re so annoying sometimes.”

He knows you don’t mean that.

“I’ll tell you soon, angelfish. Exercise a little patience. There’s no rush.”

“Easy for you to say. You know what it is.”

“That I do, yes.” He hums, considering his next words. “Would it help if I left you with a word of advice?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything.”

“Um. Okay, sure. Hit me. What’s your advice?”

Azul buckles himself in, starting his car via push button. It rumbles to life, smooth and steady. “Don’t fight so much, my dear.”

“Don’t what? Sea Witch, what are you talking—”

Your words are interrupted with a startled yelp. Azul listens to the struggle as if it’s a podcast enjoyed at sunrise. Things are toppled in the chaos; something shatters. He catches the beginnings of a blood-curdling shriek before it’s swiftly silenced. There’s more muffled scuffling before, eventually, absolute peace.

It’s broken by Floyd’s petulant whine. “Maaan, Shrimpy was so difficult. Thought you said they were easy, Azul.”

“Understandably so,” comes Jade’s astute reply. “We did catch them when they were most vulnerable.”

Floyd hums his agreement. “Y’know, Jade, Shrimpy’s kinda cute…”

“They are, aren’t they, Floyd?”

“Whatever you’re thinking, perish it right now,” Azul hisses, features twisting into something dark. “Keep your slimy mitts off of my angelfish.”

There’s an unsettling silence. Azul rolls his eyes. They’re fishing for a reaction he refuses to give.

“Clean up whatever mess you’ve made.” He takes his car out of park and eases into drive. “And don’t let anyone see you. It’ll be a hell of a pain if neighbors make unnecessary reports.”

“Yeah, yeah. Heard ya loud and clear.”

“Very well. Farewell for now.”

The call is cut. Azul grips the steering wheel, smug.

Soon waits for him on the horizon. He will not be a minute late.

You wake on a bed, in a spacious bedroom with exquisite floor-to-ceiling windows, many stories up in the clouds. A brightly lit cityscape sprawls beyond the confines of this room, illuminated with the deceptive shine of promise and success. At first it looks foreign. But then you recognize notable buildings, each standing tall and proud amidst the rest, and it occurs to you that you’re in a stranger’s home, in the heart of the big city.

The room itself is plainly colored; it reminds you of a hotel or a room you might find in a real estate catalogue. Perplexed, you sit up and take pause as your unfamiliar surroundings prove to be more frightful than your own confusion.

Pasted to the walls are various printed screenshots from Magicord, each one detailing a conversation of sorts. You stare at the wall behind you, the one in which the bed is currently pushed against, and peer closer at the contents of these messages.

They’re all from you.

Endearing terms you’ve called him in passing. Gentle insults. Lewd flirts. Vents and rants. Photos you’ve sent of very insignificant things—houseplants, meals, clothes. And then there are the photos of your body in skimpy lingerie and cosplay, all taped to the wall like this is some abstract museum of the digital you. The you who, despite being honest most of the time, took solace in the world of Magicord. The you who’d grown close with the mod from that whimsical ocean-themed server. The you who is now trapped, your ankle enclosed in a cuff. There’s a lead that only allows you to meander into the attached bathroom if you so please, and you suspect it’ll pull taut if you try to leave the room.

“What the fuck?” you mutter, your stomach twisting with disgust.

You look down at your clothes—you’re in someone’s collared shirt, intentionally designed to be oversized so that it drapes like a nightgown—and horror prickles your skin.

And then he arrives.

He’s dressed casually in black slacks and a simple white dress shirt, primly tucked in with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. You stare for a long moment, studying his features as his familiarity dawns. Your mouth falls open in a muted scream.

He smiles sweetly, stepping further into the amber glow from the bedside lamps. “It’s nice to formally meet you. I’m Sea Witch.”

But that’s not what’s shocking about this. The real shock—the thing that has your brain stumbling in an effort to put the pieces together before the picture can crumble—is far more jarring than the kidnapping and the captivity. You find your voice then, and before you can stop yourself the words are falling out in a hurry.

“CEO Ashengrotto?!”

Sea Witch—CEO Ashengrotto—stiffens, his brows furrowing immediately. He gives you a sharp, dangerous look. A look that seems to radiate one unspoken question: Where did you hear that name?

“You… You’re A-Azul Ashengrotto,” you continue, swallowing thick trepidation. “CEO of Mostro. You opened a new restaurant last year—Crave, right? And the menu features celebrity favorites—celebrities like Vil Schoenheit and Neige LeBlanche.”

He laughs his disbelief, carding a hand through soft, silvery locks. “How…do you know this?”

“I work there. You visited once with your secretary for quality checks. We even crossed paths.”

Azul gawks, realizes he’s gawking, and clears his throat. “I… I see. Well.” He inhales, holds his breath for three seconds, and exhales. “This makes things rather…awkward.”

“When you said businessman, I didn’t think… I mean, how was I supposed to know? Your voice sounds so different over call than it does in interviews.”

“Of course it does! I never use the same inflection for those things.”

This cannot be real, you think, watching him flounder anxiously. Azul Ashengrotto is Sea Witch. This whole time… Nine entire months… I was talking to the CEO—to the city’s most popular bachelor—and I didn’t even know it. They write articles about this guy! He’s all over the TV! How did I never realize?

And then a very mortifying thought worms its way in: Oh my God. We both know each other’s preferences. He saw so much of me—more than I’d ever want him to see—and I heard too many private things during our calls…

“Let’s just…” You rub circles into your temples to quell the incoming migraine. “Let’s never talk about this again. You can buy my silence and I’ll move on with my life. I’ll even forget all of…” You glance at the Magicord conversations stuck to the wall and then the chain binding your ankle. “All of this…stuff. We’ll agree to call it a misunderstanding and life will be good, yeah?”

The bargain doesn’t seem to reach him. He continues to stare at you, his eyes glazed with an emotion you can’t place. Whatever it is, it’s stormy and dark. You don’t like it, and you shrink away when he steps closer.

“All this time you were right under my nose…”

Azul climbs onto the bed with you, the mattress depressing under the additional weight. Framed by the hypnotic radiance of the skyscrapers climbing heavenward, he’s certainly earned his place in every celebrity gossip magazine you’ve ever read. Articles debating whether he’s secretly committed to a relationship. Articles theorizing what his life plans may have in store for him. Articles discussing whether he’ll ever get married, if he’ll remain single for the rest of his life, if he’ll ever open his heart to the many people who hope to earn his romantic affections.

No one knows it—how could they when he’s so tight-lipped with the paparazzi?—but you are the secret variable the articles have yet to discover. You are the covert partner, the one who has won his heart, the one who now sits shackled on his bed.

What sort of tabloid journalist could ever spin this story?

You scoot further up the bed, your back pressing against the ornately extravagant headboard. Your knees are pulled into your chest, a futile attempt at protection.

“All this time you were so close to me…” He marvels at this, his baby blue hues locked permanently on you. “And neither of us knew. I could’ve had you much sooner had I just realized…”

You blink at him, your heart sinking with every passing second. “Mr. Ashengrotto, what do you mean by that?”

A pout tugs at perfect, pretty lips. “Why so formal, angelfish? We’re much closer than that, surely.” His hands settle upon your knees, gently pulling them apart. Your blood curdles with fear. “There’s no need to be so tense. It’s only me.”

“No… Please wait. Hold on!”

“Hm? If I’m not mistaken, this is what you want. You were rather vocal about your desires. You’ve always been. So why are you looking at me like that? I’m not scary, am I?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Please let me go…”

He clicks his tongue in disapproval, his tone patient despite the subject. “You know I can’t do that.”

“But you… You kidnapped me! Y-You had those guys hiding in my home and they…” You shake your head, unable to describe the sheer terror that had overwhelmed you when those creepy twins descended. Hopeless, you open your eyes to give him your most despairing look. Tears brim in your eyes, threatening to fall at the slightest prodding.

“Oh, my dear, did they scare you? They’re brutes who know nothing of how to treat a person with adequate care. You needn’t worry anymore. I’m here for you.” He cups your face in a fond hold, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your cheek. “Don’t cry, angelfish. You’re in good hands—my hands. And have they not been the most generous?”

“You’re crazy. Obsessed! How can you think any of this is okay? Look around at the walls! You’ve pasted our conversations everywhere—they’re practically the wallpaper!”

“What of it?” His hand slides down to grip your chin, forcing you to meet him at eye level. “I love you. I have for months now. And if those are the ways you choose to classify my care, so be it.”

Tear trails trace down your face. He leans in to kiss the rivers away, but they morph into the saltiest of seas.

“You may not approve of my affections right this very moment. You may hate me, think I’m monstrous, a culmination of all things foul, but you will love me. In due time, my dear. And when you do, the world will open and the chain will come off and you will know freedom under my roof.”

He has the gall to worship you with a loving smile. It poisons you with newly brewing abhorrence.

“So cry your heart out. Scream and kick up a fit. Do what you must. And when the floods subside, we can learn to love one another. Both at our best and our worst, within and beyond Magicord.”

[fanficsbyme-causeimgay]

Imagine, if you will, you have been hiking. Regardless of your disability that gave you problems walking, hiking was an activity you loved doing.

Sadly, one day, that disability does not help.

You trip and fumble, rolling down a hill. Thankfully, you haven't broken anything, but you have lost your backpack that had the means to contact others to help you. Your phone broke, but even if it hadn't broken, you wouldn't have any signal.

Lying there in pain because of the many injuries you've sustained - as minor as they might be, they're still painful - you just see a shadow looming above you.

When you wake up next, you're in a cabin in the middle of the woods. The owner and sole person living in it is what can only be described as a lumberjack. Big man with thick arms and even thicker and strong voice that was a lot gentler than you'd expect from a man of his size. He helped you, he took you from where you were and brought you to his home - Here you have been for three days until now. He lives away from proper civilization, and although he has an emergency kit, he doesn't really use it, and some things have expired already. He can't exactly leave you here because it would take him days to get to the closest town, and you can't possible be by yourself for so long in the state you're in!

So he stayed.

As he lives alone and you're taking his only bed, he sleeps on the ground. At first, you felt really guilty about it - it is his house, so he should sleep on the bed! - but he keeps insisting that this wasn't the first time he slept on the ground and probably won't be the last. Still, you insist that at least you share, right? But it is awkward to share the bed with a stranger. So, why not become friends? That way the awkwardness will fade away... right?

You learn a few things about him. Very important things indeed.

He loves star fruits. His favorite color is green. He is an avid reader of what he explained to you to be scientific texts about soil and rocks (he went on and on about the differences between various types of rocks). He has taken to the art of woodcarving. And he also loves bears! He has made various small hand sized little bear statues that he has all around his house.

Talking about his house, although you have been mostly confined to the bedroom, you have seen a bit of it, mainly the kitchen. After a week of living together, you can finally move your body without too much pain or strain on your muscles, but walking still eludes you, cane or no cane. It is too painful. Maybe you tore something? Regardless, he sets you down on a chair he most likely makes himself and talks about whatever he wants as he makes dinner, and he is a good cook! He lives alone, so he has to be... Or make food good enough to eat.

He loves soups, too. "They're easy to make, hut hard to truly master." Is what he said when you asked about it... and it kinda makes sense.

One week turns into two, and you're starting to move around a little more, and that's when he takes you outside. It was cold, very cold, and that is when you find out he lives on top of a mountain. Without windows in his house ("I don't like them for... personal reasons."), you didn't really know you were higher up, but it was a beautiful, beautiful place... Miles and miles of forest as far as the eyes could see - and you could see your original trail too. It was two or so miles away and a steep drop down, too.

He sat you down by the porch and you two just watched the horizon as the sun set down before going back inside... it felt weirdly romantic.

Maybe that was when things started.

You began to help him with cooking - just small things. "Let me cut the potatoes for you." Oh yeah, he grew them and a bunch of other things too. He likes gardening, too... "Let me help you with that!" Or a good ol' "You look like you need some help."

And soft touches when reaching out for the same thing became more natural. Touches become more natural. Sleeping on the same bed becomes natural. Cuddling becomes more natural. And that was when you noticed it - He was gruff with it. He just told you: "I turn into a big bear sometimes." Like was the most common and perfectly normal thing for a big guy like him to do!

"Uhm, like, regularly?"

"Whenever I want to."

"...can I see that?"

And he shows you. He is big. He is brown. He is fluffy.

Secrelty, he is also extremely happy that you didn't freak out and tried to run away. He is even happier when you literally cuddle the fuck out od him.

But time, as always, moves on.

You were well enough to return to civilization. And he knew that, so he told you that the next morning, he would bring you to the nearest town. As a last farewell, he made a campfire, and you both sat together and watched as thunder rumbled above your heads. The dark clouds rolling in as rain would soon fall - and that is when he pulls out a simple guitar.

"...can I sing you something?" He asks, nervous. "I don't make any promises about the quality. It will probably suck."

"I would love to hear it." You say.

And he sings -

And when he finishes, you can't help it.

You don't wanna leave.

That night, you both did kiss, like real people do.

[muntitled]

Campus Culture | L.DH

Pairings: Himbo!Haechan x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Haechan turns into a completely loveable but mindless replica of himself when inebriated and only Drunk Haechan might be able to seduce his uptight roomate... it only counts as a drunken mistake if it happens once, right?

Sfw Warnings: Roomates AU, Fwb to Lovers, Forbbidden Relationship, Confessions, Fluff, Alcohol consumption, Angst, CollegeAU, Himbo!Haechan

Nsfw Warnings: Smut (+18, Minors DNI) Fwb to lovers Roomate!Haechan, Perv! Haechan, Dub/CON, Grinding, Choking, Premature Ejaculation, Handjob, Needy!Haechan, Rough sex, Oral Fixation, Nipple play, Unprotected Sex (don't be dumb), Cervix Fucking, Breeding Kink, Cum Play.

A/n: This is more of an enemies to lovers if you squint. If you feel triggered by very slight depictions of bullying, please be wary. I also had no idea where I was going with this. It all just kinda spewed out. ANYWAY, I love Himbos

Usually, you're better equipped for an evening with Haechan's juvenile friends coming over and doing whatever it is that boy's seem to do once they're inebriated in each other's company.

"The bear emerges from hibernation,"

Haechan's voice is like that of a nature documentary narrator, and his head is in his hands as he leans over the armrest with a smile on his face.

“Rested, and in search of something to sink her teeth into.” You remain stoic faced as you breeze past the group of boys on your way to the kitchen adjacent to the living room.

With only a shallow counter to separate the two spaces, you're still roused by the sight of Haechan in your periphery, legs spread and head thrown back as he watches you with a dopey smile.

Jeno, Jaemin, Renjun and Jisung murmur their greetings dismissively, still vividly engrossed in their game while Chenle types away at the screen of his phone, his mind all together trapped in cyberspace. You breathe out airly as a vague sort of peace befalls you. This has become your norm.

They are so incredibly loud, Haechan's friend's are, that their cacophony bled through every thin wall in your shared apartment. So loud, in fact, that you were made privy to every degenerate, delinquent, and downright disgusting little detail that swam about in their conversation.

Whenever they were over, there was a vibrancy permeating throughout the apartment, which was either attributed to Haechan's need to speak at a higher octave than the rest of the group or Chenle’s obnoxious, though admittedly contagious laughter.

Not everything was daisies and sunshine, however.

You were made subject to Haechan's incessant teasing and petulance that only seemed to double in the presence of his friends. You ignored him, viewing his behavior as a package of a roommate system (more accurately: needing his money to keep yourself and your academic pursuits afloat.)

Even more harrowing is the fact that Haechan is completely accommodating, dare you say, even hospitable (when he's sober). It was very difficult to hate him. No matter how badly you wished to let your vexation infect the inner crevices of your mind... he always made sure to let you know in advance.

He'd knock softly on the door (a by-product of a covenant you both had forged upon deciding to live together. Knocking is something akin to treading carefully through a graveyard. Sacred) letting his usually loud voice simmer to a whisper because he almost always caught you studying at your tiny, disastrous desk and he'd say, "Hey, just a heads up, they're coming over tonight,"

You did not need clarification on the ambiguity of who 'they' were but your heart would plummet all the same.

His warning would allow you, not only to stuff your headphones around your neck, for easier access whenever the noise became too oppressive, but it also allowed you to grab the snacks and food necessary before locking yourself in your room.

Not attributed to any social anxiety, but Haechan's friends had proven to be... difficult to bear in their own ways. There was Chenle, Renjun, and Mark, who held a sort of distinguished naughtiness that you fancied way more than Jeno, Jaemin, Jisung, and Haechan's borderline flirting.

It had proven very difficult not to be included in their antics, especially given the very annoying fact that their energy was so freaking infectious.

As you proceed to turn on the kettle, Haechan speaks up once again. “Since you're already there… a coke, please, Madame.” He knew that you knew that he did not actually want a coke. He just wanted to see you vexed.

“Your legs are in perfect working condition, last I checked," your face remained stoic as you said, “Get your own coke.”

Jaemin immediately cackles to Haechan's right, prompting a light snicker from Chenle and the rest. Haechan sends a worried gaze towards them before bringing his eyes back to yours. Now he's on a mission to piss you off even more.

“C’mon...” he whines in an over indulgent American accent. “Be a doll and hand me a coke-I mean a beer." He stretches his neck from side to side, now deep into his theatrics, "I'm a man-”

The knife clanks on the counter as you scoff, “Since when?" You ask, "And what is with this ‘I'm a man’ stuff?”

Haechan only swats animetedly at the air, “It's cus I'm a man, Jagi. You don't get it cus you're not a ma-”

“Yeah,” you say, turning to prepare your noodles, “I don't wanna know actually.”

There's a sudden influx of celebratory hollering from Jaemin and Jeno, while Renjun and Jisung groan in defeat, signaling the end of their game.

Jaemin turns to you as he says “You seriously don't remember?”

You let the silence speak for you.

“He’s been like this ever since the asexual comment.”

The laughter escapes your throat as you shift your eyes to a now moody and grumbling Haechan. His arms are crossed as he avoids eye contact.

“Seriously?! That's why you've been on such a toxic gym bro kick?”

The flamboyant accent is still present as Haechan says, “Hey man, if you're not gonna get me a coke, just say that, I've got places to be people to see-”

The snort leaves your lips before you can stop it, “You've got a psych textbook to see and you're not even seeing that.”

“Stop with the celibacy jokes before he becomes worse!” begs Renjun.

Your mouth is open in false accusation, with the hints of a smile present, “It's quite literally not my fault Haechan's a virgin.”

“I'm not a virgin!” Haechan whines, letting his previously infuriating accent dissolve into his perfectly infuriating normal voice. “I have sex, all the time, tell her Jaemin. Tell her I have sex.” Your eye shifts easily to Jaemin, who only shakes his head.

“Ah, I told my therapist I'm trying to be more honest in my day to day,"

Now your laughter bubbles up to the ceiling, and you're throwing your head back, eyes shut.

“You all make me wanna kill myself.” Says Haechan, pushing himself up from the couch. The sight of him approaching sobers you ineffably from your laughter. He's not particularly tall, but there's a quality about him that asserts itself as height. A silent substitute.

“I’m being falsely accused of being a virgin, I have to get my own cokes?! What is this life of mine?!" A snicker escaped the confines of your lips as you empty your noodles into your bowl. Your albeit small little laugh was a sound so pretty, Haechan could not help but perk his ears up at the sound.

He inched his way slowly into the kitchen as you took one giant unladylike bite from your noodles. Unbeknownst to you, Haechan shares a glance with Chenle over in the living room. One that prompts Chenle into stabbing Renjun in the ribs with his elbow. They were all watching as you tried to shuffle past Haechan.

Haechan, who wouldn't let you pass until heard him say,

"Not a virgin." The words were veneered in a quiet whisper and in those few seconds, you were convinced the globe had stopped spinning on its imaginary axis. You became hyperaware of yourself, the noodles still very much inside your mouth and the soup dribbling out the corners. You clumsily wipe at your lip as you gaze up at him, smiling away like the Cheshire Cat.

While your heart proceeded its cataclysmic aself destruction, Chenle released the first snort. A snort that prompted an entire wave of laughter from his gaggle of friends. They were all laughing now. Haechan's face melted into a spout of his own laughter until he was doubled over.

"Mm," your nostiled flared , "I'll be in my room," You had disappeared in a hurry, hellbent on returning to your room. Hellbent on calming your runaway heart.

While you were nursing wave after wave of embarrassment, Haechan's eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"Don't even try," Jaemin snickered, noticing that look in Haechan's eye as he stared after you. "She's locked up tighter than a prison. You'll only get your wittle heart broken."

The following Friday had arrived with the small promise that you were to stay in your room for the foreseeable evening. You had chosen to occupy yourself from Haechan's 'get together' by sitting at your desk, like most of your nights: Completely absorbed in perfecting your English Lit notes on Post colonialism.

Your eyes were practically glued on the endless enriching notes written by Achebe, Lamming, and various other authors you revered religiously. Your studying had been going swimmingly until the arrival of a drunk, slightly dazed Haechan, indicated by the heaviness of his bloodshot eyes and the slight sway in his form by the door. Haechan was a very different person when he was drunk. He got sloppy, as if he was at constant war with reality.

You both pause, in a vague liminal space until he breaks the silence with a breathy slight slur, “Well, this isn't the bathroom,”

Your eyes narrow. You can't help but snap in a manner that makes you forget all your civility.

“Evidently,” you say with an unimpressed drawl.

He lived here. He should know where the bathroom is, inebriated or not.

There is a tone in your voice that was specifically crafted to have him cringing away from you, like most men on campus tended to do. You were too much of a straight arrow for them, too narrow-minded with not enough complexities and not enough strings that needed detangling. Most men saw that you could smell the bullshit from a mile away, and you were very much aware of what they referred to you as…

Uptight.

Instead of shrinking away like you initially expected, a small, almost thrilled smile curls at the ends of his purt, heart-shaped lips. He only steps closer into your space.

“No, don't do that,” You're scowling at him but still, the bear refuses to retreat.

Your messy desk where you remain seated in a chair seems to catch his attention until soon, he's leaning back against the desk in front of you.

“Don't you need the bathroom-”

“You don't want me here?” He asked, genuinely confused as if everyone was just dying to be in his presence, “I'm not sure what you're busy with over here, but I could help,” He says, swiping a large hand over at the piles of notes scattered on the desk.

“I shouldn't have to tell you not to invade my personal space, Haechan. If this is some stupid dare-"

“Only strangers can invade each other's space, Jagiya," he whispers, snortingbas if you were the one acting silly here. “We're not strangers. I'm your dumb virgin roomate, right?"

Your eyes widen imperceptibly as you push yourself up from your chair.

“I'm going to fucking kill you when you're sober-”

“I'm not even that drunk.” He deadpans. It's as if this boy is unable to mask whatever emotion that seems to pass through him at that very moment.

“I just wanted to check on you.” He beams as he pushes himself further along your desk.

“Are all these notes yours?” He asks, picking up one of your discarded notes. You strive to grab at the flimsy pieces of notepad paper in his hands, but he swipes it swiftly out of reach every time.

“Haechan, you're messing up my system-”

“You must be really smart,” he whispers, and you immediately chastise yourself for letting his words erupt a sudden electrical storm through your once steady heartbeat. “Your handwriting is so pretty too… woah,” he admires before you see his eyes quickly peek about from the paper, “I really like smart girls,”

You find your voice, hidden somewhere in the depths of being flustered. He interrupts you, all the same, “It's okay to say you're smart… I think that's really, like, hot-”

It's impossible to account for the events that followed in a somewhat episodic format because nothing like it had ever happened to you before.

One moment, Haechan is gazing down at you like he wants to eat you and the next, his hand is wrapped around your throat, pulling you up from your chair until your lips are crashing onto his… You had not perceived just how touched starved you were, until you found your inhibitions melting, and you were kissing him back just as fiercely. He was impatient and sloppy, pushing his tongue in too quickly while his hand marked up every inch of your body. “Pretty,” he mumbled in between wet kisses, “You so pretty… y'just feel so pretty.” Once Haechan's lust was involved, the rest of his brain, it seemed, shut down like the finishing hours of a toy factory. He was switching your positions, pushing you onto the desk as he trailed kisses down your neck.

“Your friends,” you murmured before throwing your head back, offering him better access, “We can't.”

“We can,” he nodded, while pushing himself in between your legs, “We can because I want to,” He punctuated his sentence by thrusting his sweatpants-clad hips right against your core. He seemed to have quickly caught a liking to this form of intimacy because soon, Haechan is breaking apart fromcthe kiss to gaze down at his hips pushing against your core.

His breath is peppered with a soft and dazed, “Woah…”

He nodded very slowly, “I like this very much.” Haechan said with grave finality, which evidently was the calm before the storm. You locked your hand around your mouth as Haechan sank his fingers into the sides of your hips, grinding his bulge against your core like there was nothing else that mattered. He brought your hips to meet each of his stuttering but hard thrusts and your head fell back in the stuttering… constant… impact.

“See?” He says, “See how good it feels?” he mumbles incoherently, now in a violent pursuit of his own orgasm. “F-Fuck,” he whimpered, feeling his cock twitching in his sweats. A feeling that usually let him know the end was near. He quickly clamped his hands on the underside of your ass before lifting you slightly off the desk, just enough to move impossibly closer between your legs.

He hugged you, wanting to feel your soft tits pushing up against him as he was grinding you both to a quick orgasm.

“You're close aren't you?” His voice cracks when he says, “Please be close, because I'm so fucking close-”

But all you're able to do is fight to keep your eyes open as you watch the slightly cracked open door. “H-Haechan-”

“Look at me, Cupcake,” he practically whined before forcefully bringing your eyes back to him with a flick of your chin.

The eye contact sent him down a rampage of lust and his hips stuttered as his mouth hung open,“F-Fuck, just like that- you're so good-” he lifted his baggy shirt, to watch himself thrust one more time before his rhythm crumbled and his hips stuttered as he came in his sweats.

You did not have the energy to tell him you didn't cum, only sprouting a brand new vexation as he swayed his way in search of the bathroom.

That had been your first and last devious encounter, before you avoided him like the plague. It had not taken much, because Haechan was vastly more sensible when he was sober. Emerging from his room like a bear out of his den and rubbing his messy head of black hair as he grumbled, “Did I do something weird last night? Or stupid?” He groans, “I have this feeling that I did something extra stupid and weird last night.” Although your heart plummeted minutely, you saw this as a lifeline and you took it.

“You were drunk, Haechan, so you probably most certainly did.”

You allowed yourself to live in the peace of sober Haechan until things once again only got dangerous on Friday nights, when his enablers would all congregate in the living room, tossing back cans of beer.

Your quick trip to the bathroom had ended with Haechan looming in the doorway, once again. With a near constant pout he exclaimed, “I missed you!”

“You see me everyday,” you grumbled before making your way to the sink to wash your hands. There was a bubbling in your stomach, that you would only dissect later. Whether it was excitement or frustration at seeing him this way.

“Still missed you-”

“I think you missed my body,” you said, before drying your hands, “Not me.”

“Both. I missed both,” he says, before beaming the sunniest, brightest smile you had ever seen on a face. You had to look away as you stepped towards him, for your sanity.

“Please move, Hyuck-”

“I wanna play,” he says, “We had so much fun the last time,”

“You fucking seduced me the last time and I fell for it like an idiot." You sighed deeply, "I studied myself to exhaustion. Im such a fucking idiot.”

He looks deep into your eyes as he very seriously says, “Don't say that-”

“What do you like about me? I mean what could you actually like and appreciate about me-” For all of 5 seconds the boy is trapped in a worrying daze. As the seconds tick on, your blood pressure rises and you're pushing roughly at his chest, which once again proves to be futile. “Fucking move, Haechan. I'm not doing this with you.”

His whines soar higher, “But why?! I didn't even really get to see your boobs, please let me see your boobs?” you stop his hand on its way to cup your breasts in mid air. He slumps

“You make me wanna kill myself.” He grumbles before stomping away to rejoin his friends. As Haechan sat down he breathed out heavily before whining, kicking and punching at the air. His friends, seeing nothing new with his tantrum, did not entertain it as they played their games.

Haechan just couldn't understand. He wanted you and, based on everything that transpired, you wanted him. So why not just let it happen?

You were making things too complicated and complicated is not something he enjoyed very much.

Haechan did not grasp onto much but you make it exceptionally clear that you did not want the interaction to be made public knowledge, and he, surprisingly obeyed your wishes. Your only enemy, it seems, were these hangouts Haechan scheduled with his friends. You liked to avoid unnecessary juvenile squabbling when necessary. You had to study instead, until you built the proper revenue to buy an apartment of your own, free from Haechan's provocation.

But you had fallen asleep.

The dusk bleeding into darkness until you were peeling your face off of your Classical lit textbook and nursing a grumbling stomach...

Your ears perked and your stomach sank as you heard boyish laughter bleed in through the cracks of the doorway. They had already arrived and you had zero rations to combat this venomous hunger.

It was guaranteed to be a short and curt journey past the small apartment living room, into the kitchen. A journey whereby you would pray you evade the group of boys invading your shared living room. Or at least one boy in particular...

Had Haechan been a non factor, your anxieties would have been perfectly nullified, but tin the wake of a troublesome post-study hunger, you had no other choice but to venture out into the living room.

You had hope your trip would be a curt one, entertaining not a single, word, jab, or comment as you were on your way to fly to the kitchen. Your feet stopped you before you could make it. Arrested in stark realisation that there is no noise at all. You round the short corner to find Haechan seated patiently on his couch with his hoodie up, tapping away at a mobile game while humming angelically. You immediately noted that he was sober and that set your mild frustrations at ease.

“Oh, hey,” you murmured, before swaying over to the adjoining Kitchen, separated only by a shallow counter. As you stare down at your yoghurt, you miss the way in which Haechan's face snaps up at tye sound of your voice. His feet fly off the coffee table and he rights himself infinitesimally.

“You guys aren't hanging out today?”

“There's a party somewhere on campus,” he switches his phone off and stuffs it into the pocket of his goodies as he shrugs, “Didn't feel like going.”

You walk back into the living room, and Haechan watches as you nod silently before planting yourself on the couch next to him. He's very perceptive and plants a couch cushion behind your back in the process. You realise then that you much preferred him this way.

“I'm having a hard time guaging the fact that you didn't wanna get drunk,” although a short chuckle escapes your lips, Haechan is not laughing. “I don't always think about getting drunk, you know.” The smile disappears from your face automatically as you bring a spoon of yoghurt to your lips.

“Of course… sorry-”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Haechan watches your tongue lightly poke out and nip at the yoghurt before lazily bringing his eyes back to you. “If anything, I should be sorry.” An immediate wave of discomfort washed over you when the words left his mouth. So he was aware.

“Drunk Haechan sucks,” he says, “You don't have to make excuses for him.” You're caught in a wave of silence, your yoghourt forgotten on your lap. He wants to pull back but he has your attention now and it's fueling him with all the confidence he needs before he's scooting closer on the couch, until your thigh is directly against his.

“Earlier in the week you asked me what I like about you-”

“Haechan, you don't have to-”

The discomfort bled into embarrassment now and you fought to get up but he placed his hand on yours.

“I don't remember what I said,'' his lips pout lightly as his eyebrows furrow, “I don't know if I said anything at all. I just… want you to know that I wasn't quiet because nothing came to mind. I was speechless because it was like trying to list the stars. Tiring and fucking endless.” He breathed out, before looking away abashedly, “You're a good cook,” he says, “you always make us something to eat for Friday nights. You're so driven, in a way that is equal parts obsessive but also really fucking hot.” Your mouth parts slightly and Haechan's eyes once again lazily drops down to watch them. His voice is airy and loght as he says, “Fuck, and you're so pretty and smart.” He's speaking purely from a place of lust and admiration, which only has you melting further. You much preferred this Haechan.

“You make me feel safe because I know you always have the answers…” You let his words hang stagnant in the air for a while, letting yourself marinate in the pleasure of it, while his own thumb rubs circles around the back of your hand.

“I mean…” The Insecurities were steadily sinking in because by the laws of campus culture, you both were not supposed to be together. Your names were met with different responses and different emotions attached to them. You'd hate his popularity to diminish because of you. Instead of spewing out these words, you only whispered, “Are you sure? I mean, think of what people-”

In a series of swift movements, Haechan's hand cradling your own had gripped down tighter before dragging your hand until it was flush against his bulge. He releases a heavy breath as his eyes fall momentarily shut. Gritting his teeth together as he throws his head back in momentary euphoria as if he had been waiting to do this.

He brushes your hand up and down as he says, “Don't you dare ask me if I'm sure.” He says, unable to stop himself rutting against your hand. A wave of confidence soon falls until you're taking control and crawling your hand up to the waistband of his sweats. He whines in anticipation as you stuff your hand inside until you are cupping his underwear-clad bulge in your open palm. Haechan's eyes are heavy when he swings his head lazily to you, watching you watch his hips lift to graze himself against your hand.

“I need you,” he whispers, before raising a hand, immediately cupping your breasts, “I need you so fucking bad.” He can feel the presume wet the tight constraints of his boxers and he locks his jaw tighter. “I wanna fuck you, Cupcake,” your stomach warms at the reiterating of the nickname he had given you when he was drunk and equally ravenous, “Please let me,” He juts his hips up with every whine that escapes his throat, “Please-”

“I need you too-” before the words even leave your mouth he's lunging at you in a wild kiss. “Fuck, your lips are so soft,” he mumbles before forcing his his thumb into your mouth and watching with heavy eyelids as he lowers you onto the couch. Your jaw goes limp as Haechan, seemingly entranced with swiping his thumb along your wet tongue.

“So warm,” he murmurs as he hovers above you. Haechan lowers himself between your open legs, “Your mouth I'd so fucking pretty, so fucking warm-”

He sounded exactly like he sounded when he was drunk. Sloppy, incoherent and not making much sense. But you could not discount the pool of wetness that glistened your underwear as Haechan continued to play with your tongue.

“Fuck-” He whispers, watching the saliva coat his finger as he unconsciously thrusts his bulge once again into your core. He seems too realise that he hadn't, in fact, pulled his cock out and he curses lightly before hurriedly moving to do just that.

“Your boobs-” He whispers as he pulls his aching cock out, “Please let me see-”

Before the words even leave his mouth you're pulling your shorts and top off swiftly. Haechan immediately doubles over, thrusting into the air once before he's fisting the base of his cock, as if he was on the cusp of cumming.

“F-Fuck, I think I need to fuck you now-” He said, already sinking deep into you. Your moans fight valiantly to drown out his perpetual whines before he buries his face in between your neck and shoulders. He's breathing heavily as he begins to fuck steadily up into you, releasing little melodic ‘hah, hah, hah's as he peels back to look down at you with heavy pussy-drunk eyes.

“Fuck it feels so good, Haechan,” he thrusts harder at that before lowering his lips to your nipple and sucking without ever breaking eye contact. The stimulation from your nipple and the head of his cock bumping into your cervix has your mind spinning with euphoria. You haven't even cum yet but this feels like you're trapped in that same state of pleasure.

“Fuck, baby you're so tight around my cock,’ his breath blows down against your wet nipple and you buck your hips up to meet his thrusts. “If you carry on like this you're gonna make me spill inside you,” you throw your head back, mouth parting even wider as a chorus of moans leave your throat after his sentence.

“F-Fuck you want that? You want me to cum inside you?”

You cannot speak, completely fargone at this point but your cunt still clenching around him is all the answer he needs before he's ramming into you with urgency. “Fuck, you,make me feel so good Cupcake-” He's once again pressing his fingers into your mouth, as of needing to feel the warm wetness just to get off.

He's looking down at you as of you hung the moon, “F-Fuck I'm cumming-” He fights to keep his eyes open and watch you whine around his fingers as your own orgasm crashes in violent succession. You're both fighting to press your hips together, he's fighting to stay inside as an endless string of cum flights to push him out. You're both breathing heavily, both staring into each other's eyes as Haechan pulls his middle and index finger out of your mouth. You're absolutely speechless as he cleans his fingers with his own mouth, all without breaking eye contact.

“I… can't believe I came like that-” You say, eyes caught in a daze.

“Shit- I was supposed to rub your clit, wasn't I?” He's already slipping out of you and craning open your legs.

“N-No, Haechan I came, I promise I came. Fuck-” He's rubbing small circles against your puffy clit, using his cum as lube. “You have no idea how badly I needed you cumminh around my cock like that,” he says before spraying a gentle kiss against your knee. He's playing with your cunt, not to bring you to orgasm, you realise, but unconsciously. “We're boyfriend and girlfriend now, right?”

You snicker lightly before nodding with finality. Thus, as the beginning of a new but interesting dynamic, in which you drove Haechan to study more while he, in the same breath, got you to open up more. He dropped your inhibitions and coaxed you out of your comfort zone…

[aether-starlight]

You’re the Fish

Pairing: Rafayel x Grumpy!Reader

Warnings: None. Kinda enemies to lovers vibe.

Summary: Rafayel texts you to come over for an emergency. His concept of it is vastly different from yours.

Word count: 700 words.

You didn’t bother to keep the door from slamming in your wake, sprinting into the room to find Rafayel sitting on the floor, brush in hand.

“Do you ever check your phone?” You seethed, brushing a rebellious strand of hair behind your ear.

He didn’t even bother to look at you, enraptured on the canvas before him.

“Not really, but I’ve been known to answer faster to texts starting with ‘baby’ or ‘sweetness’, even.”

“How about pompous prick?”

Rafayel sent you one of those infuriating smiles, unfazed as ever.

“Ooh, someone’s prickly. Rough day at work, Miss Bodyguard?”

“For one: I’m not your bodyguard.” You kneeled by his side and snatched the brush out of his hand. “Second: where exactly is the emergency in this situation?”

Rafayel raised a languid brow.

“Can’t you see?” He gestured at the painting before him, splattered with hues of citrine and turquoise. “It’s a mess.”

It looked like something out of a museum.

Your stare became deadly, words slowly spelled out as you asked: “You made me rush to the outskirts of the city, breaking who knows how many speed limits…for a painting?”

Rafayel’s mirthful gaze withered. Something almost embarrassed crept into his features as his eyes darted between you and the painting.

“Well, I…you see—“

“I thought a Wanderer was kicking your ass!” You exploded.

By that point, he was almost pouting.

“They wouldn’t be kicking my ass, per se.”

You faked solemnity, shaking your head.

“Of course not, maybe just gravely injuring or maiming, nothing too extreme.”

Finally, both of you settled into silence.

He was now looking at his hands, half-mindedly rubbing at the spots of paint coloring his knuckles and the sides of his palms.

Beneath the warm light of the vintage lamp beside the canvas, part of his initial bravado seemed to wane.

The circles beneath the mauve of his eyes became clearer, his hair less of its usual perfect styling.

You sighed, and felt yourself soften. Stress bled out of your body, allowing your shoulders to relax, easing the line at your brow.

“Why am I here, Rafayel? The real reason.”

“Does there have to be a reason?” He asked, petulant as a child.

“Isn’t there always?”

Rafayel brightened, leaning his body closer to yours.

“You see, this reminds me of a story, of a man who was adamant on catching one very specific fish. So obsessed in fact, that when he finally caught it, he had to let it go.“

Your brows furrowed, attempting to stay in the line of his erratic storytelling, all moving hands and vivid intonation.

Rafayel was like that in a way. You soon discovered that your best shot at deciphering how he felt was inside fantasy.

Stories and narratives weren’t just entertainment for him, they were a window to his heart and mind.

The weather would never just be the weather, just like a story was never just a story.

“Am I the fish or the man in this metaphor?”

Rafayel’s gaze was half hidden by long eyelashes.

“Guess. I’d like you to be one, but you’re the other.”

“Maybe I’m none.”

“You are no fun.”

“And you are impractical.”

He huffed out a laugh.

“Whatever you say, Miss Bodyguard.”

You observed him for a second, following the light curve at the corners of his lips, and the tired tilt of his shoulders.

“Rafayel.”

“Hm?”

When his gaze met yours there was something unguarded about it.

“You don’t have to catch me.” You cradled one of his hands in yours, returning the brush to its rightful owner. “Just tell me you want to hang out next time.”

Some of his usual flirty self returned at that.

“We’d be up to no good, I would hope.”

You shook your head, a traitorous smile blooming on your face, and if Rafayel felt his heart stutter at it, he would attribute it to exhaustion.

“You’re incorrigible.”

You gave the painting one last look and had to do a double take.

The once abstract shapes were now connecting into something more, soul peeking out from the impeccable technique.

“Rafayel, is that my face?!”

[iris-qt]

𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜

🌱 ʟᴏʀᴇɴᴢᴏ ʙᴇʀᴋꜱʜɪʀᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🌱 ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

🌱 ᴍᴇᴇᴛ-ᴄᴜᴛᴇ

🌱 ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʟᴏʀᴇɴᴢᴏ ʙᴇʀᴋꜱʜɪʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴛʀɪᴘ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴡᴇᴅᴇɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ʀᴜɴꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛʀᴀɪɴ-ᴇxɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴍɪꜱʜᴀᴘ…ꜰᴏʀᴛᴜɴᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʜɪᴍ ᴏᴜᴛ.

On his long-awaited dream trip to Sweden, Lorenzo Berkshire did not expect to feel so lost and alone. It wasn’t his fault he got so distracted looking out the train window, watching the lush lime glow of Sweden fall past him in the pouring rain.

Lorenzo was definitely more of a sunny day kinda guy but the muggy glow of the rain was absolutely magical. Until the magic ended, and Mattheo, Theodore, and Blaise were shouting at him to hurry up. Turning just in time, he watched the clear doors close on their gaped faces, and the train began chugging away.

It took Lorenzo a good minute to snap out of it. And then the panic begun. He couldn’t read those markings on the map lest he produce a headache at the tiny foreign characters swimming back and forth. Lorenzo looked around wildly, startling the locals. Smart Enzo had decided to visit a deep un-touristy part of Sweden in which very few people spoke English. He was going down the line, begging the confused locals to help, until he got to the very end of the car.

A cute girl with gorgeous hair was sitting with her headphones on, typing away at her laptop. He began his praticed questions, but the girl didn’t even acknowledge him. Confused, he stood there staring as she briefly looked up, and quickly became startled at this strange man’s face inches from hers. She slid her headphones onto her neck as she raised an annoyed brow at Enzo. He sheepishly grinned as he realized her loud music had tuned out his question. He began,

“HELLO! Do. You. Speak. English?”

Lorenzo thoughtfully enuniciated his words, hoping to get through to this girl. She just rolled her eyes at him. So he, red as the “no signal” alert on his muggle phone he carried in case of emergencies, was sad to have embarrassed himself in front of this enchanting girl. He quickly apologized with one of the few words he knew in Swedish.

“Förlåt.”

He bowed his head to convey some sign of respect and began to walk away. The girl snickered and called out to him,

“What do you need?”

He turned back with a surprised grin. “Hi! My name’s Enzo. So…I’m sort of lost and I cant speak Swedish,” he said ashamedly.

“Sounds like you can’t pronounce words in it either,” she said with a smirk.

“Oh no. How bad?”

“Mmm pretty bad.”

“Aw, Merlin.”

“Where are you trying to get to?”

“A place called Marstrand.”

“Oh, my mormor lives there”

“Your what?”

“My grandmother.”

Lorenzo smiled at the girl as she looked at him skeptically with his permanently happy face. She found it strange how someone could be so happy. Especially when lost in an unknown country. She found the silence to be awkward.

“We left Marstrand behind 2 stops ago. You’ll have to take a car or carriage back.”

“Oh my god, a carriage?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Like from some fairytale!”

“Yes, I guess so.” She couldn’t help but laugh at this strange foreign boy with the cute smile. Her laugh was music to Enzo’s ears. He wished he could capture the sound in an intricate music box as detailed as her and play it over and over again.

“So where should I get off?”

“As soon as you can.”

“The next stop?”

“Yes. Let me write out a note for you and teach you how to ask for directions. Once you get to the transportation place, just give them the note.”

“You’re a life saver..um…what was your name?”

The girl smiled and decided to shroud herself in mystery. Maybe then Enzo wouldn’t forget her, for you can forget a name, but not a presence.

“My name is confidential information,” she said, shrugging jokingly.

“Hmm confidential information. Guess I’ll have to abbreviate it to CI.”

“Doesn’t sound very pleasant.”

“Well then, it’s an oxymoron,” he said, grinning widely at his new object of attention.

“An oxy- what?” she said, brows creased, struggling to pronounce this new word. Enso just shrugged in his signature playful way as the announcer informed the passengers of the upcoming stop.

Lorenzo immediately felt a wave of sadness in leaving this girl behind. Something about her adorable stormy nature seemed much more appealing than the storm outside.

She began to get up, her bag and red umbrella in hand, and for a moment, Lorenzo saw flashes of romantically fantastical scenes in which CI disregarded her proceedings and explored all of Sweden with him.

But, unfortunately, she informed him her stop was after his, beyond the mountain, and she was just wishing him goodbye. Oh cruel, cruel reality.

[mochiimadness]

I wonder what it would be like for Splinter if he fell in love? This isn't an xreader thing, for obvious reasons. It's just a scenario I haven't really seen explored for his character, and I'm curious how you'd portray it.

Hello! I wasn’t sure which version of Splinter you wanted, so I did both! Also, I could write a splinter x reader if someone requested it (not sure what you meant by 'obvious reasons' /lh), I did not make this one a splinter x reader tho ^^

2012 Splinter

Oh Hamato Yoshi, a man of so little yet so many words-

It takes him a bit to actually fall in love

He is hesitant about pursuing another romantic relationship

Is genuinely traumatized from his last one

Rightfully so, he saw his wife die, daughter as well (or so he thought for years) all at the hands of someone he onced called his brother- only to get mutated soon after.

Yeah… not a very good experience…

But when he falls, he is absolutely devoted to his person

He is very formal, approaching his crush in a gentlemanly manner

Is kinda old fashioned

The type to bring flowers and open doors for his partner

When he was with Tang Shen, he ended up losing sight of what was important

And became very distant and dismissive

He knows better now, and makes sure to go out of his way to pay attention

He does still struggle though,

Often choosing to meditate over quality time

As his relationship grows, however, he becomes better at being present.

Makes sure to set time aside for his partner

He doesn’t mind doing whatever, but he does prefer quieter activities-

A drama show perhaps, or drinking tea together.

As he becomes more relaxed in his relationship-

His playful side emerges

And surprisingly- he can be very goofy

I mean- he has a cheese phone in a glass case. He chose that. It’s meant for serious emergencies- you can’t tell me he wasn’t making a joke about his current mutation.

He tells dad jokes- really corny ones too

And his laugh is a full-on belly laugh where he throws his head back

He enjoys making his beloved laugh,

Will sometimes even ask Michelangelo for any new jokes to tell!

Overall, he's very sweet, goofy and old-fashioned with his partner,

He is also incredibly protective- perhaps a bit over protective

But considering the fact that he and his family are being hunted down by the man who killed his last wife-

His over protectiveness is warranted.

Does NOT take chances- if his beloved is captured, he is going there and demolishing anyone who gets in his way.

Makes sure his beloved is okay, before taking them home to curl up and watch some old drama show

Cheese-sicles included.

Rise Splinter

This may or may not come as a surprise-

But I honestly think it takes him a while to truly fall in love with someone

I feel like he has some trust issues

Definitely has high walls when it comes to relationships

Being a popular celebrity back in day taught him a thing or two about letting people get too close

Most people were usually only after him for his fame and fortune-

Looking to use him to rise to the top themselves

So he made sure to keep a decent distance

Until Big Mama of course

Which only made his trust issues 100x worse.

If he were to fall in love again, it would only be after a long time

There needs to be a very strong, and very solid foundation of trust

He would like to avoid being locked up and forced to fight to the death again, thank you very much.

On top of his trust issues-

He has major abandonment issues

If he ever went through with trying to have another relationship,

There would need to be a lot of communication-

Lots of working on and assuring him that his partner isn’t going anywhere.

As for his behavior??

He’s very avoidant in a rather outgoing way

It’s kinda weird to witness actually

The second he realizes he actually has romantic feelings for someone- he’s panicking

Tries to avoid them but also makes sure to be nice

He’s nowhere in sight whenever his crush is around but if they happen to catch him?

He’s chatting up a storm, sitting them down for a cup of tea or some food

Casually handing them a slice of pizza and once their attention is on it

Poof- vanished from sight once they turn around.

Once he starts actually giving a relationship a try though??

Man is whipped with a capital W

THE BIGGEST SIMP EVER

Quality time??? Physical touch???? GIFT GIVING??!?!?!!

His crush is getting it all

Quality time is an absolute must, he always wants to be around them no matter what it is they’re doing.

Knitting? He’s there.

2am snacks?? He already has their favorite

Movie time???? He made sure his projector is completely repaired AND made the couch the comfiest spot ever.

Loves to cuddle and hold hands, generally likes to be in contact with his beloved in anyway he can

Will even wrap his tail around one of their limbs if his hands are full

*cough* or if he’s too lazy to move from his comfy position *cough*

And on top of that?? He actually has decent money from his time as Lou Jitsu

He can and will have his sons help him figure out online ordering.

His beloved is getting any and everything they want

Only the best for them, he makes sure to buy top quality items

A lot of the gifts are an eyesore to look at though- his personal taste is…. intense…

Thankfully, his family helps him out.

Overall a very attentive, but clingy, partner

Will proudly boast about his beloved to anyone who asks (or doesn’t)

Has one of those wallets with the long long photo strips

He shoves them in everyone’s faces

I hope you enjoyed!! Apologies for the long wait;;

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

Okay, so I just read Salvatore and like, I've had this thought in my head for a while now. Kinda hoping for smut? I was thinking of a fan fiction of Leon's birthday. He comes home from the office, most of the lights in the house/apartment are out. There's candles and a birthday cake for him. And since his last name is Kennedy, like JFK, The reader is naked but does what Marilyn Monroe did for JFK'S birthday and sing him happy birthday!

Okay so this request was really fun to write! You just gave me the most plausible excuse to write some more porn, which honestly it's my favorite thing to do. Thank you for the trust and for this amazing idea and request; and I hope you enjoy it ♥

Happy b-day, Agent Kennedy |3.4k

ao3 | masterlist ✦ Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x f! reader ✦ Summary: Its Leon's birthday. He thought you went out for a business trip, when actually, you have a little surprise for him at home. ✦ TW: NSFW MINORS DNI, explicit, f!reader, little to none f! physical appearence descriptions, smut, very much porn, soft dom leon, p in v, unprotected, lots of dirty talk, very pornographic, bit of fluff in the end

Leon was staring at his computer screen with little to no concentration at this point. He had spent the entire day trying to form connections between two clues he received on someone that the government had been sure was working for Umbrella. He sighed in frustration and let his body fall behind in the big chair; squeezed his eyes, he was tired.

So tired, the clock hit 8pm and he was still far from home. So tired he apparently forgot a very essential fact: his very own birthday. 

Realization fell over him when he unblocked his phone screen and checked the last text you’ve sent that day - a big red heart, after a cute “Happy birthday, bae! I’m sorry for not being there with u. Will compensate. x”. He closed his eyes, mindly damning himself for his workaholic behavior, how could he forget about his own birthday? “Must have lost my fucking mind, it’s drinking day.” He muttered to himself, before getting up and starting to pack up.

As much as he wanted you there with him, he was comprehensive to the fact that it wasn’t your choice not to be: you received an emergency call from work that same day earlier, and needed to pick up the first available plane to Seattle. Leon felt like a needy dog: always near you, always with his hands all over you – always checking you out. He didn’t want to look even more desperate about you and grumble about something out of your control, he understood better than anyone that work came first and foremost in situations like that.

He couldn’t help but feel frustrated to know that you wouldn’t be waiting for him when he got home; a box of beer for each, classic rock playing and you – dancing with you. Eating you. His expectations were put down, he would get drunk alone, listen to his songs alone, and probably find some relief in those polaroids of yours he affectionately kept to himself.

He gathered the documents and papers on the case and put it together in his backpack, turned off the lights and went out; let a deep sigh while going to the elevator towards the parking lot to pick up his car and go home.

━ ⟡ ━

Leon held two boxes of beer along with a bag with a few snacks and a tiny cupcake. He gave a little wave to a neighbor with a small, gentle smile on his face as he fit the key into the door lock and spinned it; to his surprise, the door was already open. His eyebrows instinctively frowned, he felt a cold feeling rising through his spine, he got worried. When working with what he worked with, caution became part of your daily routine; he held the bag in one hand and opened the door slowly, his adrenaline running through his veins, he was ready for anything.

There was a tiny source of light lighting up the spacious and cozy apartment living room; the light trembled through the shadows on the walls; candles. They were everywhere, some white, others red. An intoxicating, delicious smell floated through the air – your smell. Your perfume seemed to be deep-rooted everywhere. There was a small homemade cake on the center table, twenty-nine little candles lit up on top of it. 

The agent's alert state disappeared almost instantly, immediate relief swelling his lungs and releasing the most delightful breath of his life, and he couldn't contain the little mischievous smile that formed in the corner of his lips. He took a few steps forward to reach one of the chairs and leave the bags he carried on it, and intended to find you right after. 

Before he could even do anything, at the moment his figure gave a generous space between himself and the door, it shut itself behind him; Leon felt a shiver crawling through his spine, his stomach contracted slightly feeling your soft, naughty hands caressing his belly, raising his shirt up just above his navel, just enough so you could touch his skin under it with ease.

Your arms wrapped him, and your body clung to his back. His mind became white, slave to the sensations that you caused him; he could know by the perfect shape of your breasts against his back, and your spiked and delicious nipples, that you were naked. He felt a scratch coming down through his belly, the heat beginning to appear and burning his skin after every touch; your sharp nails scratched the skin of his chest slowly, those hypnotic movements of yours made him feel the blood flowing through his veins increasingly stronger, warmer, needier.

“Happy birthday to you…” You started to sing, your soft low voice tickled against his ear. You had to stand on the tip of your feet to reach him; one of your hands rose through his chest to his neck, causing him to drop his head back. You left a slow kiss followed by a roaring laugh down against his ear. “Happy birthday, Agent Kennedy... Happy birthday, to you,” you finished, the intonation of your voice seemed to move with every screw inside his head. 

“Full of surprises aren’t you, babe?” He asked in a rough, low voice, seeming like he could hardly control the excitement that at that point was already apparent in his voice. 

Leon closed his eyes with a smile on his face, he licked his lips slowly, already able to feel the resistance of his pants straining against his hardened cock starting to bother him. 

“Only for you. A special birthday deserves a special gift, hm?”

You smiled against his skin as you traced gentle, slow kisses against his jaw, his neck, left a bite there. Your hand squeezed slightly around his neck, your nails briefly crawling onto the skin with some traces of a recently shaved beard. Leon let out a low purr, the desire and tension almost unbearable to him at that point; his hand abruptly grabbed onto your wrist, and held firmly as he turned around himself.

In a matter of seconds, you felt him pulling you closer, his other hand grabbed your waist with desire as he attacked you with a ferocious kiss. You repaid in the same intensity, your arm wrapped around his neck, your hand grabbing the outstanding blonde threads that got messy with the intensity of the movement in your embrace, your body burned - his hand digging your hip, your ass - he tightened his grip heavily, as if he stated - your body was his.

“Want to drive me crazy, don’t you?” He muttered against your skin as he intensified his wet, messy kisses against your jaw and neck. His arm contracted in pure force when he raised you with one hand, causing you to wrap your legs around him in an intimate hug; you sighed in pleasure. That side of his belonged to you, and only you. No one else could provoke him that way, make him that horny and needy with only a touch, only a plead. That one Leon you had taking you, ravishing you right now was the death of you; when he held you tight, squeezed you with so much will, marked your skin with his bare hands.

“I like when you get wild, babe don’t blame me...” you hummed, trying to contain your heavy breath and the panting noises that came out of your mouth. “It’s your fault, I’m such a whore for you.” you smiled mischievous, biting your lip.

One of his hands still held you against him, the other moved to your neck as he moved into the combined kitchen next to the living room room; as his hands climbed over your body around the curve of your hips, he pressed you hard against the kitchen bench. Your back hit the cold surface and his body projected against yours, his weight immobilized you and you couldn’t hold back a soft moan when you started feeling the bulge on his pants pressing against the core between your legs.

“How am I supposed to not think about you all of the time when you’re like this…” he muttered, pressing his restrained cock against you once again. “Grab it.” he ordered, and you did it. Your hand squeezed into his rock hard cock through the thick fabric of his pants, starting to do slow and soft movements; he bite his lip and let out a growl in yearning.

Leon lowered himself, his mouth skillfully descended through your neck leaving a wet trace through your skin, his hand tightened around one of your breasts as if it were his favorite toy; you purred when he increased his grip strength, and breathe out deeply when he let go, the man’s lip suckling one of your nipples, his tongue slowly rolling into your most sensitive skin.

“No, you look at me.” He commanded, and one of his hands abruptly held your face by your jaw and forced you to lock your eyes onto his. He glared at you, lust overflowing from his look. Leon seeked to see your reactions, mindly recording them in his thoughts; to eat you alive, ravish you. One of his hands stimulated your nipple, the other squeezed raw your breast giving his mouth enough space to consume it. “Good...” he praised, as his kisses descended through your stomach, belly, fuck.

“L-Leon... Ah, fuck...” you purred, your body melting in pleasure against his mouth.

You were indecently trying to control your breath, but his slow movements seemed to destroy any part of you that was capable of self-control. Your hips instinctively moved against the volume in his pants, but Leon didn’t seem determined to finish you off quickly. He wanted to take his time with you. 

He pushed your body backwards against the bench, raising your legs around his shoulders; his head found space between your thighs, one of his hands palmed your stomach, pressing it down against the bench while the other tightened against one of your thighs. His tongue parted your folds in a smooth, almost insensitive movement. You felt your breath catching on your throat.

“You wanted that? You seem needy, darling.” he teased, the hand that caressed your thigh being replaced by now a finger movement, his index and middle finger parting your folds steadily leaving your clit even more exposed to him. “So wet this little cunt, aw...” he whispered, suckling you slowly. His body trembled and you frowned in pleasure with his tongue twirling around your clit as he traced slow kisses and slow suckles and velvety kisses against your core, your juices flowing through your thighs mixed with the spittle he was leaving there.

You growled in response, a submissive purr, a proof of your desperate need for him — more, of him. His hand against your belly intensified your sensations and made you squirm under him, your body started to slowly and autonomically move against his, your hip pushing yourself in a thrust against his mouth; you felt your conscience drop further every time he’d moan against you, like he was eating the most delicious meal he ever had in his lifetime.

“You close, aren’t ya?” he muttered with a naughty smile, why did he had to know you so well.

You lied. You were ashamed of how quick you felt you’d come. Tried to push him away from you, vain efforts - he ignored your hand and your push, and started to only push you harder towards your climax. He couldn’t hold his own needs by seeing you squirm ever so willingly onto his hands, that at this point, couldn’t help themselves but to work on his belt in record timing. He unbuckled it, unzipped his combat pants with ease just enough so he could pull down his boxers. His cock bobbled out in a very deserved relief, gleaming wet in desire.

Grabbing tight onto his length, Leon finally started pumping himself in slow, hard movements - masturbating himself to the obscene picture of you spreading your legs wide to him right now; everything about it was enticing to him: your wet cunt, your teary eyes while you were seeming so dumb, trying to hold back your orgasm, take off his control of you. You could hear the low and slicky sound of his movements while he was eating your pussy off with pleasure.

“Stop being foolish, my dummy baby… come for me.” he asked, with a pleading expression. “On my tongue, c’mon…”

“Leon, babe no- s-stop I’m- I can’t hold it longer…” you warned, and you were right - your eyebrows frowned in a painful, pleasured expression; your body started moving against your will stopping you from even trying to get away from his tongue. Your orgasm got you slowly, not on a surprise - like a very slow flowing sensation down your lower belly. You felt your body stopping for once, your feets squeezing themselves while Leon felt the little trembling pulses of your clit against his mouth.

“Delicious,” he whispered, licking off his lips and tasting every little piece of your slick he could possibly have. “You’re delicious.”

Another slow lick of his between your folds made you spasm a bit, you cursed under your breath before he smirked and left your pussy to rest coming up to you, kissing your body along the way, stomach, collar, mouth. He got rid of his shirt in record timing - you could feel his wet cock against your thighs, and so he pulled you out the bench and backed off slightly. The sudden void between your bodies made you whimper in need, but when you interrupted your kiss looking forward to complaining, the image of his got to you like a punch on your lower belly just again.

Shirtless; his pants open only enough so his cock was there, hanging ever so hard, twitching in need, reddened by the desire - pulsating, his arm contracted by the movements he was doing, pumping his length while staring you, drinking you in, licking off your slick from his own lips. 

He took you again, roughly putting you on your back and you couldn’t help but to mischievously smile, a naughty look on your face while your hands palmed the bench surface. His gaze was locked on your small figure under him; like a little bitch of his. A good, little bitch he had all to himself. 

“See how you get me… Fuck, can’t even hold myself, make me look like a teenager all again.” he hummed, feeling your wetness with a hand that palmed your cunt entirely, making you space out your legs. You could feel his tip against your folds now, tracing a path between them - it made you burn, tremble. “You want it? Yeah?” he asked, torturing you, finding it very amusing how your voice would get thinner and thinner, needier and needier.

“Yes, please.” you pleaded, biting your lip already so wet the sole contact of his cock with your core was making a nasty noise.

Leon wanted to make you beg some more; he wanted to, you knew it. He wanted to see you asking, pleading for more so helplessly, but he, himself couldn’t hold back any longer, he craved you. He took a handful of your hair and pulled it to him, making you arch your back just enough for your head to almost touch his chest; you were so drenched you needed no stretching, no preparations and he so knew it when he slowly fit his length onto your cunt. Your walls tightened to the feeling of his cock, the thickness making you let out a little cry in pleasure; he bent his head back, little drops of sweat forming on his head from how hard he was holding himself from not ravishing you restlessly for once.

He purred, and you felt that tip of his poke your insides the moment he fit the whole length; he stood, giving you a couple seconds to get used to this new filling of your empty space. God, how you wish you were filled all of the fucking time.

He kissed your neck, and breath heavy against your ear, none of you being able of forming complete senseful phrases at the moment; his hand was digging onto your waist, his body towering over yours, his weight pressing you even further against the counter you held so tightly into. 

“I want to die like this” he muttered, against your ear. “Inside this tight little cunt of yours”, he took a bite to your ear and before you could formulate a response, he thrust.

You purred even louder, your breath heavy, your mind going empty for a few seconds as he started to pump into you harder, those slow hard movements, your walls clenching hard against him while he was thrusting his hips so hard you felt like you could break anytime.

“Don’t stop-” was all you could say, your voice got caught stuck in your throat, your nails were digging tightly onto the counter wood; you were on your tiptoes so he could reach your entrance, your feets started looking for space as he bent you even further, stepping on top of his. 

He let go of your hair for a moment and pushed you down the counter, his hand pressing your head against the surface. The movements were wild, filled with passion, with fire, lust, chemistry - your sex was the best, you knew it, he knew it. He could barely hold himself together, he turned feral in a matter of seconds. The grunts of his need, your moans of pleasure alltogether. 

“You gonna kill me-” he grunted. “That’s it… That’s it, babe.” his voice was almost mute, you knew he was trying to hold back just as much as you. 

Your legs started to tremble from the effort, from your heavy breathing and from the pleasure that started taking over you once again; 

“Leon-” you moaned just again along with some incoherent sounds, and bite your lower lip, you could barely move yourself right now, he was toying you like a doll, making you his the way he fucking wanted it. He grunted out loud, you felt his hand reach up to your pussy through you body and stimulating over your sensitive and hurting clit - all hopes you had of holding yourself were vain at that moment, you lost the game; couldn’t hold any longer.

Your body squirmed and you let your head fall behind, a long and loud painful moan came out of your mouth, the pain mixed with the pure pleasure, your second orgasm of that day - it was almost too overwhelming for you. 

Leon’s stomach contracted, his muscles showed up, the veins on his arms were jumping from the efforts, sweat dripping off his forehead, his discharge was like a shockwave against his entire body; he shivered, almost unable of holding himself back the moment he pulled out and gave himself only a few pumps, enough so a big load of his cum hit your buttcheek, slowly dripping from your thigh while he tried to hold his breath steady; his head was now against your back and you could feel his breath catching your skin from time to time, while you tried to gain off conscience again.

You closed your eyes, tired and completely satisfied. He kissed your back ever so gently now, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you together standing again, letting your body rest against the counter in some support; after fixing his pants back in place.

“Thank you.” he muttered, digging his face against the curve of your neck, hugging you into a tight and passionate embrace. You smiled a little against his skin. “you tricked me just fine.” he raised his eyebrows.

“I know, right?” you laughed off a little, looking at him - his eyes, then low at his lips before stealing a little kiss. “You brought beer, right? I baked a cake. I’m not sure if it’s edible but it does smell nice.” you raised an eyebrow and he couldn’t hold off a little laugh to your commentary.

“Yeah, I did.” he sighed, not wanting to do anything else but hugging you in that embrace for at least some other hours, or perhaps for the entire night if you’d let him. “I love you.” he muttered, giving you a long affectionate kiss on the cheek; you couldn’t hold back a genuine, little smile.

“In italian.” you asked in a purr, your eyes with a solicit gleam. He brushed your hair with his fingers, before giving in.

“Ti amo.” he smiled, to which you answered a truly loving “I love you too, agent.” 

[14buddy22]

hiii can you do hotch with a “you came, you called” situation maybe not like a couple tho. maybe exes or mutual pining that they don’t realize <3

Decided to make them exes in this one... Don't hate me... BTW, I'm sorry this took so long. Thanks for requesting anon ! ily

Your phone ringing in the middle of the night was not something you or your husband expected.

"Y/n, your phone."

You picked it up, answering with a groggy, "Hello."

You were half asleep, not even seeing who was calling you. You're sure it was important though, your closest friends and family knew that you loved your sleep and only called in the middle of the night if it was an emergency or something important.

You heard Aaron's voice with a, "you were in a deep sleep. I'm sorry. I'll let you get back to sleep."

"Aaron, where are you? Are you okay?"

As you sat up, you turned on your lamp on your side of the bed. You felt your husband's grip on you tighten, not wanting you to get up.

"I just, I kinda needed to hear your voice. I'm sorry. Tell Kevin I'm sorry for waking him up."

"Aar."

As he hung up, you weren't sure what was going on. But he called. No questions asked, you need to go over there and check in on him. You knew the anniversary of Haley's death was coming up next week. You knew it was a tough week for him and Jack, so you always tried to be there when you could.

You put on a pair of running shorts and decided to keep your husband's t-shirt on. Your husband sat up, following you into the bathroom as you brushed your teeth.

"Do you want to go with, Kev?"

"I have to be up in a couple hours to get ready for a meeting at work so I'm going to head back to bed. I know it's a tough week for Aaron and Jack. Let's have dinner with them this week? Jack loves his Uncle Kev."

"He sure does, just like I love him."

You kissed your husband and he said, "Tell Aaron I said hi, give Jack a big hug for me in the morning."

"I will. I love you. Thank you for letting me be a good friend."

"It's one of the reasons why I love you."

"I promise I'll make it up to you. Maybe stop by the office, you can have dessert before lunch?"

"I'd really like that."

Your husband winked and then kissed you again. As you made your way out of the house and into your car, you drove to Aaron's, making a pit stop at the gas station to pick up a tub of his favorite ice cream.

When you got to his apartment, you pulled out the spare key he gave you, but decided to knock instead. You didn't want to be shot by an FBI agent in the middle of the night.

You heard rustling on the other side and you said, "Put the gun away, Aaron. It's just me."

When he unlocked the door, he stood there, dumbfounded.

"You came."

"You called, Aar."

You hugged him and then moved to lock the door behind you. You handed him ice cream and you said, "For the sake of old times?"

Aaron stood there, amazed how you, the one he let get away, would still drop over and come over when he needed someone.

As he turned on a movie, you grabbed two spoons from the drawer and made your way to sit on the couch.

"So, will you tell me why you called?"

"I just, I feel like shit. It's going to be 10 years since Haley passed. She should be here."

You knew his insecurities with Haley. You knew how he wanted a second chance at love with her. You knew that he blamed himself for her death even though it wasn't his fault. There was a point last year where Jack had snapped at Aaron over something and blamed him for Haley being dead.

That wasn't good for both of the Hotchner boys. That took a lot of talking with Kevin and Jack as much as it did with you and Aaron.

Where did you fit into their lives? How was your husband so relaxed with you going over to another man's apartment in the middle of the night just by one phone call?

Well, you and Aaron go way back. You were friends with Penelope. Penelope introduced you to Aaron and you both hit it off. You two decided that you were just better as friends, and he became your best friend. He learned all there was. You were there when Jack was born, you were Jack's godmother, you were there for Aaron when he was getting divorced, you were there when Jack and Haley went into protective custody.

You only dated for a few months, which isn't long, but it felt like you had dated him a life time. You had the platonic relationship, although he was romantic.

Aaron introduced you to Kevin. They worked at the same law firm as interns. Aaron felt dumb knowing that he was the one who introduced you to who is your now husband, but he just wanted you to be happy. He wanted you in his life and you were, so he was happy too.

"Aar, when I called after my break-up with Kevin, you came. No questions asked."

"Yeah, but maybe I shouldn't have, I was the reason you two got back together, and I lost my chance with you again."

"You had your chance with me. Remember, we decided we were going to be best friends instead, and we are. It works, don't you agree?"

"It does. I just was a fool. I just wanted you to be happy. You were so heart broken when I came over that I was saying anything for you to be happy, but you're my best friend, still in my life. I love you."

"I love you, too, Aaron. You know that I'll always come when you call. Just how I always know that when I call, you'll always come."

"I will until the day I die, Y/n/n, I promise."

As you both fell asleep on the couch, both of you independently thinking about how different life would have been had you married Aaron. You'd be a step mom to Jack, have a few Hotchner babies running around instead. You were very happy with your husband, Kevin. He loved you and you loved him just as much, if not more, but deep down, in a different universe, you think it was supposed to be you and Aaron.

[sillyhahasilly]

your takes on modern caldre aus? sorry if youve done this havent seen it on your blog :-)

hiii hello anon!! sorry this took so long! never ever feel bad for asking me for hcs and aus!! i love making them.

~~~

the only thing I've posted abt modern caldre is that i dont think they would still shoot up their school. i still stand by this, let me elaborate. i think both of them would still be really mentally ill, but they wouldn't need to be repressed as much bc of social and societal changes of now compared to 2001. AND they would have better access to the internet and we all know there are loads of stuff to enjoy and communities to join and feel belonging in instead of plotting mass murder. still, i enjoy thinking of what zero day would have been like if it happened today too!!

~~~

How would they have delt with covid?

lets say they would be seniors this year, like me. shit shut down in their 7th grade year and almost all of their 8th grade year would of been online. those are very much formative years lmao.

cal would js not do his work in online school. he would of been the kid playing video games and shit during zoom. andre would do decent online. he would enjoy not needing to deal w other people bs in person.

both would be really isolated, spending lots of time in their rooms. chronically online. !!tw sh!! i think this is when both of them would start shing. a lot of mental illnesses emerging.

cal would of been a discord kid during this time too. he dragged andre into it with him. i also think cal would e date some rando on discord.

i think they would also be fully realizing their sexualities during this time bc thats what everyone was doing on tik tok. gay ptide ig

andre would have a full on emo faze during lockdown that i dont think would ever go away.

~~~

Other random modern hcs!!!

both of them would be into violent video games. andre would love CoD. cal would like horror games and watching people play them. they would pull all nighters js to play video games and drop slurs to anyone who is better then them.

kys jokes all the time.

both would watch gore all the time and send it to each other.

both would be such gatekeepers for like anything 😭😭 if an artist they listened too became "tiktokifed" they both would LOSE IT. if an underground indie movie blew up they liked they would rage message eachother abt it.

andre would fall for those fucking military adds. rip

andre would not like skibidi toilet shit idk what yall are on. he would find it so annoying. cal, tho, would find some brainrot shit funny.

I do kinda think andre would use tiktok sometimes but would never post. cal would use tik tok all the time and his fyp would be cursed. so would cals insta reel feed. I think both of them would have a soft spot for insta reels cuz they can be rlly mean on there.

yk those school confession pages? andre once sent one anonymously alluding that someone was gonna shoot up his school cuz he was really pissed and the page got shut down. admin threatened to get police involved. he is LUCKY no one looked into it too much. cal thought the whole situation was hilarious.

cal is chronically online and stays up late a lot on his phone/computer/wtv.

~~~

that's all!!! this is very all over the place like my inspo for these lmao. if anyone has specific modern au requests lmk!! or any requests in general :)

[darkhymns-fic]

He Likes It Slow

Husk already gave his soul over to Alastor long ago. It was on a quiet night, with fingers stroking along his head, and a smile that gleamed in the dark, taking his breath away.

Alastor's radio shows used to be so comforting.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters/Pairing: Husk/Alastor Rating: T Word Count: 3398 Mirror: AO3 Notes: For Radiohusk Week, Day 2: Soul. This fic plays very loosely with the theme, I just really wanted to write Alastor petting a sleepy Husk's head and then suddenly backstory happened. Still some slightly dark/toxic dynamics if you squint.

--

Husk blearily looked at the clock that read 3 AM next to his bed. He was exhausted. His body was aching. But he wasn’t asleep.

He pressed a hand to his face. Not again.

There was a reason why Husk rarely slept without a drink in hand. Even before his fall into Hell, his sleeping habits hadn’t changed much. A whiskey bottle was comfort, and when he felt his brain turn to mush after downing half the bottle, and his body becoming light, he’d fall into peaceful unconsciousness, thankfully dreaming of nothing. He’d only have to deal with the hangover, but it was a risk worth taking.

But tonight, Husk couldn’t sleep at all. And his usual nightcaps weren’t working.

It’s the quiet that gets to him, really, and maybe it was a cruel joke to think that anything in Hell could actually be quiet. Blood curdling screams and shouts were the usual playback to Pentagram City, along with a few explosions for good measure. But somehow, this late at night, there would suddenly be nothing. As if everyone in the entire afterlife had just died a second death and he was the only one left.

It’s what Husk felt as he tossed and turned in his hotel room. The whiskey bottle on his nightstand was empty, as well as the vodka bottle in his dresser. He’d have to go downstairs to get himself more, but he knew it was a lost cause.

The quiet made him anxious. It always had, even when he’d been alive. When it became too much for him, which is when he thought he’d see certain shapes and eyes in the walls of his home, Husk would turn on the television to calm his mind. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as other voices were talking that wasn’t his own, echoing in his skull. If his television had been busted, he’d play an old vinyl on his record player. Soft jazz that made his mind hum, or other classics that he knew by heart. And if his record player was also broken, then he’d resort to the radio…

Husk frowned. There was no television in this room, not that he’d trust it much, and he’d left his record player at his casino. And there was only…

“I got a bunch of portable radios on sale!” Charlie had been enthusiastically telling everyone at the parlor earlier that week. She’d handed each one out to everybody, like they were treats that she’d been saving up for a special occasion. Different styles from some as small as a wallet, to those that looked like mini boomboxes—but they all showed their age, extremely.

“Well, they were kinda lying on the curb by the V Tower, and there was a sign that said ‘Old Stupid Crap Here’, so it wasn’t really technically for sale, but that means we can reuse it! I was thinking each hotel guest could have their own little radio so they could play some tunes!”

“...Charlie, have you been talking to Smiles?” Angel Dust had asked, holding a retro radio in one set of hands with befuddlement. Alastor, of course, had been the only one not present for these daily exercises. “You know people can just use their phone.”

“Well, it’s also good for weather announcements and emergencies! Like if the power goes out or an Extermination catches us off guard…”

“Yeah. So, like, a phone basically.”

Husk shook his head. Playing that day on loop wasn’t going to help him sleep. He needed something else. Anything else.

Muttering, he wrenched open the bottom drawer of his nightstand to take out one of those stupid radio. Unlike Angel, he just never got used to new phones, and he wasn’t about to start now. At least a radio was familiar, though the one he had was plenty ancient, even for him. The face of it had a gauge for the stations instead of digital numbers, the red needle moving back and forth.

“If this even works…” But Charlie, bless her heart, had even put in a fresh set of batteries in it. Husk knew how to fiddle with the rotary dials, and pulled out the little antenna to catch better frequencies. This was certified old junk, and Husk really wondered how Charlie just got these out of nowhere.

He hesitated. All he needed from it was to play something, whether it was a crappy hour-long infomercial, a news report, or even some music that could sound somewhat nice.

And also, he just had to make sure to not tune it to one particular station.

He just wanted to sleep.

So, with a soft prayer, he turned the radio on. It instantly caught some static, and he fiddled with the antenna some more before he caught a few words here and there—a commercial talking about a new and improved version of a certain love potion, some political talk show going over a certain upcoming divorce with some royalty called Goetia, and a quick smattering of notes here and there of music that sounded a bit like death metal, which was kind of ironic.

But nothing stayed long, continuing to devolve into static, again and again. Husk groaned, flapped his wings in frustration, then slammed the radio down on the nightstand.

“Just play something!” he growled. Then plunked his head back on his pillow, while his claws kept turning the dial back and forth, trying to escape the static that kept trailing through the stations, like some looming shadow.

I’ll take anything, he thought. And then, he found it.

The one station that had no static at all.

--

.

.

.

Whenever Alastor put on his radio voice, it always served to make Husk so lethargic.

“Fine, put on a show for me,” he must have said, or something to that effect. It had been late, and insomnia was keeping him up and ragged. Neither whiskey or gin was hitting, and none of the radio programs on right now were doing it for him.

Because the next thing he knew, he found himself with no sense of time or place. Just laying on his side over a couch, limbs heavy and his vision stuck in a daze. There was a soft touch just above his ears, the hint of sharp nails that scratched pleasantly at the skin. Something about the motion, along with the voice he heard above, made him so helpless, and so content.

“Now, I was only, hmm, twenty, no, maybe twenty-three years old at the time, give or take, and the game was at its biggest stakes. Really, truly was the talk of the town. You couldn’t go to the marketplace and get your daily newspaper without some fellow yapping away about it and Ruth’s mysterious illness!” Another soft stroke, one that made Husk shift and swallow down a sound that he wasn’t sure about it. “I’m sure a lovely caller or two should know what I’m talking about, yes? The Yankees game of 1925? Be sure to give us a call after a message from one of our most esteemed sponsors.”

Husk pressed his head into a warm leg, eyes growing heavy again. “What…are you even talking about?”

A soft chuckle from above him. “You wanted a sample of my day on the job, and that’s what I gave you, my dear.”

The fingers that stroked through Husk’s hair were soft, almost delicate in their touch. It was nearly too addictive, along with the soft tenor that was Alastor’s voice.

The man had talent, he’d give him that.

“Maybe lay off the gossip,” he said. “Baseball only reminds me of a few bad bets I’ve made.”

It was hard to turn. He never wanted to move at all. It felt perfect to lay here. But still, he could manage a small shift, finally seeing a familiar silhouette above him, painted against the lamplight. Alastor was half-facing away from him, turning the dial of a nearby radio until it settled into the latest soft jazz hit that was a favorite to play at the bar.

Husk couldn’t see much else, except a grin. It was so startling white against the shadow of that face. “Hm, then how about this instead?” spoke that same grin.

Another soft touch, one that went around the shell of his ear. Fingers that traced down his neck, then back up onto his head, creating pathways through dark hair. The motion was practiced and knowing. Husk could barely stay awake as it was, but when Alastor spoke again, he was completely at his mercy.

“I have a confession, dear listeners, but nothing surprising to many of you, I’m sure. I adore the new up-and-coming talent that’s making his way on our radio waves this evening. A local talent, nonetheless. You’d do well to remember the name of Louis Armstrong, right here on this station. Got his start with Kid Ory’s band! For all you social birds, you might have seen him playing on the riverboats during those hot summers. Why, he sings Mack the Knife better than most! A personal favorite of mine. I see big things coming his way, but we can’t forget where we come from, now can we?”

Another soft stroke, with a finger just edging close to Husk’s bottom lip. The touch was still soft, but eager. Maybe, if it was another time, Husk might have pushed it away. But Alastor was still stroking his hair, still petting him. It had never felt this good before.

“And also, dear listeners, I know a few of you also appreciate those humble beginnings. Like most of us, we work through our very bones to climb our way to the top. After all, it’s the good old-fashioned American Dream. For some of us, it’s a steeper climb than others. I’m sure you understand. So let’s play something back from those old days. An older little ditty of not only Armstrong before he hit it fully on his own, but of lovely Susie, such a hilarious girl. A keen ear will pick out Louis’ swinging tunes that dance along with Susie’s beautiful voice—He Likes It Slow…”

And, it was so slow, those touches that made Husk swallow deep, that made his heartbeat ram inside his chest in contrast. The music that played was a familiar thing, on an even beat, accompanied by vocals and the banjo, and the smooth trombone. But none of that compared to Alastor’s soft and soothing voice, and his professional touches that made Husk turn into the most helpless thing in his hand.

“Don’t you now?” Alastor spoke again, in his iconic voice, but without the filter of the speaker. Husk could hear the man’s breaths just above him, as slow as those touches. 

“Alastor?” Husk tried to ask, barely comprehensible. So deep was he falling into Alastor’s touches. He must have drank too much, all in a vain hope to finally catch some sleep. Or maybe he’d been drugged—the drinks he’d had belonged to Alastor’s own cabinet, after all.

And when he had enough strength to turn his head around, to finally look closer at Alastor’s face, he was met with that wide grin, half hidden by a hand as the man leaned against the armchair of the couch.

Then, a small glint in those eyes.

Of soft, dusky red, like the dying embers of a fireplace.

.

.

.

--

Husk wasn’t in his bed.

There’s always a spot between wakefulness and dreams, and Husk was right in the middle of it. He could barely open his eyes, even though he no longer felt the hotel’s blankets and pillows underneath him. All he knew was that there was something else, something that didn’t make him want to move, not just yet.

“Just a small, little number for all you dear listeners out there. An up-and-coming star from our little denizen of a city. This saxophone player known only by his moniker, Bleeding Hearts, has a lot up his sleeve when it comes to jazz and swing, and we’ll make sure to keep him on the air to get his name out there. Now, how did you all like it?”

Someone had his hand over him, one he found himself leaning into, as if on instinct.

The fingers that stroked through his hair were still so deft, still so practiced and good. They traveled along the shape of his ears and moved to ghost over sensitive areas over his cheek. And then, they would go back to his hair, parting through it with a delicate touch, one that made him want to stay—

Wait. He pressed his lips together, tried in vain to open his eyes. This isn’t…

He wasn’t alive anymore. This didn’t make sense.

He didn’t have just hair on his head, but fur, which covered his entire frame. He didn’t have hands, but claws, curved and jagged. What he had when he was alive and human was no longer true. 

Husk wouldn’t be touched this way. Was he still dreaming?

“Now, I know this is also a bit different from our regular program. But, change can be the spice of life, or afterlife as it were. We all need to take it slow once in a while. As my dear, mystery guest can attest to…”

Who was even talking? Was it… No. No, it wouldn’t make sense.

Finally, he could open his eyes, and was greeted with dim red.

He was on his knees, which laid hard against unforgiving metal. There were only different varying shades of red wherever he looked, until finally his tired eyes could identify the details. The soft fluorescent lights above, the assortments of dials inlaid in metal in front, along with the grates that lined the floors. Another blink, and he could see the curve of a microphone, where at the base, a hand tapped its fingers against methodically.

It took him another second to understand that his head was laying in Alastor’s lap.

This had to be a dream.

Even so, a hand continued to stroke into his fur, sending bursts of warmth through his skull. His eyelids fluttered, and he couldn’t find it in himself to move. The gentleness was both addictive and unnerving. Another touch, just over his cheek, and he let out a sigh.

“Why…am I here?” he asked, but when he spoke, his voice felt thick, like it was stuffed full of cotton. “Ala…stor…”

“Hmm?” Alastor looked down at Husk, the grin etched onto his face like a permanent scar. It was bright against the dim lighting, but it felt subdued. Relaxed. Inviting, almost. “It’s simple, my dear. You reached out to me.”

Husk’s first instinct at that was denial, but he couldn’t be sure now. All he remembered was the radio in his hands, the constant static that plagued every station no matter what. Then, a plea for something. For anything to bring him some sort of peace.

Through the radio waves, Alastor could pick up on most things.

“Looks like our mystery guest has finally joined us, folks. He’s a bit radio shy, so please be patient with him. Now, don’t you want to choose our next song?”

Husk blinked again. He still didn’t understand. He could barely even lift his head, let alone speak like a normal person. Another soft touch, fingers that pressed deep into his fur and made his bones feel so malleable. He then let out a mumble, all as he pressed his cheek harder against Alastor’s leg.

“But…don’t you…” He couldn’t even finish his thought, all of it disintegrating from another pet against his fur.

“No screams for tonight’s hour,” Alastor said, giving Husk a small wink. “Isn’t that what you prefer?”

Why was he being so gentle with him? Now, after everything?

Husk thought such days had long been over.

His wings rustled, barely able to lift themselves from the floor. Husk could only press a hand near Alastor’s seat to try and stand, but he never made it far. His hand lay limp against the other’s knee, and his head continued to rest in that lap, even when his neck curved at an uncomfortable angle.

He was drunk. Or drugged. Or something else. He didn’t know what was happening to him, except the hand that continued to pet him so softly.

If he said anything else to Alastor, he wasn’t sure. Just movement and touches. Some form of sound left his mouth, and the dim knowledge that other demons in the city must have heard him through Alastor’s mic was only barely able to scratch the surface. Maybe he’d be mortified if he was in any form of control, but he wasn’t.

He was just so tired, and so comfortable. He wanted more of Alastor’s voice and touches.

“Of course you would go for an old classic.” Alastor’s grin remained bright, and his eyes were so hypnotizing, drawing Husk into the soft coals. “After all, you always liked it slow…”

And when he heard the music play, a nostalgic wave engulfed him completely. He was lost.

Husk had thought this side of Alastor had long gone dormant. Even at his tamest, there was still a glint in his smile, a fervor in the eyes. A relish and need to have those under his claws and broadcast horrifying death over the airwaves. But none of that was happening. None of anything he expected was here. Just the music from an old time, with a lady’s vocals and soft trumpet, and Alastor’s fingers stroking through his fur, as if he had never forgotten how to.

This isn’t real, Husk thought, a soft break through the waves before being submerged again. Maybe he made another sound, one that was on edge, or perhaps a little panicked. Because those fingers moved to hold his chin, lifting up his face.

“Shhh, now,” Alastor whispered. He brought his other hand near Husk, to stroke lightly against his neck.

Then, there was the weight of the chain.

As familiar to Husk as a whiskey bottle was when in his hand.

He closed his eyes. He didn’t know what he felt anymore. Because he still didn’t shift from Alastor’s touches, which were so perfect against him, which brought back old memories he thought he long buried into the ground of his very soul. Even with the chain, he could only lean his head into Alastor’s hands.

Maybe he really was drugged. Or maybe, he was still deeply in love, and didn’t know how to let go.

He heard Alastor move those chain links along his fingers. Another practiced touch, while his other hand continued petting Husk along his ears. “I think my dear kitty wants something else.”

He didn’t want to fight it.

--

.

.

.

And he didn’t fight it then either, even as Alastor let his hands wander down his neck to play with the collar of his shirt. Even if there was just a bit of unease, a bit of confusion as to why he really couldn’t find it in himself to move at all. But Alastor, still smiling from his mini radio performance, all for Husk and no one else, brought his head down to be near.

“And just how slow do you like it?”

He could barely answer then, just licking his dry lips and wanting to fall closer to that mouth. His hands kneaded at Alastor’s leg. He breathed a little harder. And Alastor’s touches sent him drowning.

“Make it last forever,” he found himself saying. Clearly. As if the haze had been lifted, if only for a moment. Finally, when he was free, this was what he wanted.

And to this day, he still remembered Alastor’s smile. Something unknown, but oh so private and his alone. With hands petting him dearly, the kiss stole more than just his breath. It stole everything, until nothing was left of him at all.

.

.

.

--

Husk felt sharp teeth against his tongue. The sensation made his voice stutter. A hand continued to pet just by his ears. “Al…” he whispered, and only dimly remembered to stop, seeing the mic next to them.

Alastor’s eyes glided to that mic, before turning back to Husk. He tapped a finger against the metal head of it. No echo. No feedback.

“It’s alright, Husker.” Alastor leaned in close again. “We’re off the air.”

[denkidere]

wow, i can get sexual too

aizawa x reader

1.3k words

phone sex (kinda), mutual masturbation, former teacher/student, voice kink (kinda)

aizawa gets a call from an ex-student.

part 2

though he would never admit it to himself, aizawa had a bit of a habit to giving his personal number to his students. initially, he had intended to only give it out to his "favorites" on the verge of graduation, as a way to keep in touch, but only upon request. somehow along the way, though, emergency situations had popped up, first- and second-year students he was fond of began asking for a way to message him, and his personal rule became more of a suggestion. you had been one of those exceptions; shortly into your third year, you had gotten lost on a field trip, your phone left in your abandoned bag, leaving you unable to contact anyone in the class. when you had finally been located, aizawa had given you a stern but concerned lecture about keeping your phone on you at all times, regardless of the circumstances, and a note with his number on it, in case of another emergency.

there hadn't been any other emergencies during your time at UA, but you made sure to send him a message on every holiday, concern during major storms, and casual questions about the state of the school now that you were gone. he knew from these small exchanges that you weren't a full-fledged pro hero yet, opting instead to help out at a minor hero's agency in some sort of mentorship program for students from another school, a town or two away. he sometimes found himself wishing he could see you again, one of his brightest students, but rigidly held himself to the thought that it had to be your idea.

all that to say, he had never expected to hear from you that night, and certainly not in the form of a phone call. he immediately fought off a feeling of panic, knowing he had to be the one to be calm if there was truly an emergency. "is everything okay?" he asked without hesitation, hoping he didn't sound as flustered as he felt.

"huh? oh, yeah, i'm fine. i hope i didn't scare you." he felt relief wash over him at your nonchalant response. "there's no emergency or anything, if that's what you were thinking. i just hadn't heard from you in a bit, wanted to say hi."

"oh, i see," he said softly. 'wanting to say hi' wasn't an entirely unbelievable excuse, but why not a text? "well, how have you been? is your agency still running smoothly?" he found himself standing, wandering around his apartment, subconsciously relishing the sound of your voice.

"yeah, it's okay, just a bit boring lately. how's UA? i hope you haven't had to expel anyone yet," you joked, bringing a small smile to his face.

"no, no expulsions yet," he answered. "no outstanding students either, though. it almost makes me miss your class. quite a few of you were excellent." his smile widened enough that he was sure you could hear the look on his face.

"quite a few of us, huh? i always knew you had favorites, mr. aizawa." your soft laugh brought a dusting of color to his face. had he really been so obvious in his favoritism? he heard a slight rustle of fabric from your end.

"you've caught me," he said, embarrassed. "it's impossible not to have a few favorites, you know. i just try and give all my students the same treatment regardless."

"it's okay, mr. aizawa, i'm only teasing." there was something about your voice that had shifted, some subtle change in your tone, that had him feeling a bit short of breath. "what are you doing tonight? you picked up a lot faster than i expected."

"well.. nothing, i suppose." what were you doing to him? "but of course i picked up fast-- i wasn't going to risk there being an emergency." another soft laugh from you.

"did you really enjoy teaching me, mr. aizawa?" you asked, almost purring into the phone. he could no longer ignore the way you were speaking to him; it was almost sensual. standing at the kitchen counter now, he drummed the fingers of his free hand against the counter restlessly. would it be so wrong to entertain you? he couldn't deny that the thought was already in his mind.

"of course i did," he finally said, fighting to keep his voice even. "you were brilliant-- you still are, as far as i can tell. you certainly have the makings of a great hero." what was that sound you had made? his hand reflexively gripped the counter now, desperately trying to pick out another noise from you.

"you really think so? i surely couldn't be as great of a hero as you," you murmured. had you moved away from the receiver? your voice sounded a bit distant, like you were trying to keep quiet. "can i tell you something?" aizawa felt his stomach plummet to his feet.

"um, something like what?" he asked, feeling his anxiety trickle into his voice. he heard more rustles on your end, and what he could only assume was shortened breaths.

"i always though you were very handsome, mr. aizawa." he quickly pulled the phone away from his face, a strangled noise escaping him. what ever line he had been apprehensive to cross, you had just stepped directly over. "and i called because i wanted to hear your voice." his grip on the counter tightened.

"you wanted to.. hear my voice?" he asked, attempting to gloss over your confession for his own sake. "what for?" your giggle had him gasping for air again. when had his pants gotten so tight?

"oh, i just missed it, i guess. you seem pretty flustered, mr. aizawa. is there something you need to say?" his hand was now resting uneasily on his belt buckle.

"what are you telling me all this for?" he choked out, eyes squeezed shut. "is this your way of asking me something?" helplessly, he had undone his belt.

"asking you something? what are you thinking about me, aizawa?" you sounded closer to the receiver again, clearly panting. his heart pounded.

"you're toying with your poor old teacher, you know," he mumbled pathetically. his pants now sat just above his knees. he leaned over the counter slightly, mind racing. "i'd appreciate it if you were a bit more direct." he felt like he had lost control of his words and movements.

"i want to see you some time, aizawa." his eyes widened. "for lunch, coffee, anything. just soon." there was some sort of desperation in your voice.

"as long as i get an explanation, it's a date," he groans, unable to believe his own words.

"a date, hm?" you were teasing him again. poor aizawa.

"with you, yes, it can be a date. you were right to think you were one of my favorites." when had he last touched himself like that? he hoped to god that you couldn't tell what he was doing, but he wasn't so sure anymore that you weren't doing the same. at last, he heard a clear, undeniable moan escape you. his eyes widened.

"aizawa.. really, what are you thinking?" you ask again. his head was spinning.

"i'm thinking.. you should have picked a closer agency. so this didn't have to be a phone call." it felt perverted, to talk to a former student this way, but he couldn't help himself. he wasn't sure how much longer he would last. you let out another low laugh, sounding almost intoxicated from the conversation.

"that's dirty of you, mr. aizawa." your words sent a chill through him. "i'll call you again soon about our date, 'kay?" you sounded so much more calm. what had happened on your end..? "see you soon, mr. aizawa." he hardly processed the sound of you hanging up the call, hand still working wildly. by the time he sat his phone down on the counter, he was still unable to collect his thoughts, twitching and completely out of breath. your next call couldn't possibly come soon enough.

[kyokoyya]

back between villages (akaashi keiji x y/n)

- ex to friends au, both of them are 24 years old, a little bit angsty, and fluff. ending's kinda rushed im so sorry:(

- 1.5k words

(i wrote this when i was sobbing to this song)

taglist : open!

The cold breeze of autumn is starting to hit your face as you walk down the streets of your old neighbourhood. You just finished your final semester in university, and while waiting for an internship, you came back here to visit a friend from high school.

As you let your steps walk down the neighbourhood, you suddenly stopped as you saw the small food stall by the road.

"Wow, this place is still here?" You thought. The memories of you and your friends will eat here every day after school because it's cheap and delicious. The aunt who owned this shop with her husband was so sweet too. It made you smile as you walked slowly towards the shop.

The shop is still bustling with customers, mostly teenagers from your old school. You opened the door and the ring bells. You looked around to see the same warm and cosy interior is still here, just a little bit of renovation here and there.

As you looked around, you were disrupted by a voice. "Oh child, is that you?" You turned your head towards the voice and saw the aunt, smiling at you like she used to smile a few years ago.

You smiled back at her and embraced her hands. "Yes, this is me, y/n. It seems you have not forgotten me."

You laughed a little as the aunt brought you to the seat at the nearby table. "How can I forget you when you and your friends used to be the loudest in here?" She said, and you laughed, remembering how this shop will be full of laughter that came from your friend group alone.

"What would you like to eat? I will make it for you." The aunt offered free food, but I refused, politely, of course. "Ah, I'm just passing through, aunt. I happened to see how your shop is still busy after all these years; how lucky!" You exclaimed.

After seconds passed, your eyes started to wander around, probably to search for a familiar silhouette of her husband. "Where's uncle? Is he working today?" You asked as your eyes focused on her back.

Suddenly, her expression became gloomy. "Ah... child, he died last year because of lung cancer. Your friends never told you?"

Your smile disappeared, and guilt started to swallow you. "I'm sorry... I didn't know.. condolences to you." You bite your lips, feeling sad and thinking about how you never managed to find out what's happening in your hometown after you graduated.

"It's okay; he had no regrets. His last wish was to renovate this shop, and his wish was granted. He is happy, and so am I." She let out a sigh and looked around the shop, built from the memories of her and her husband, built from love.

You smiled softly hearing that he lived his life to the fullest and stayed happy till the end of his breath. "I adore both of you so much, you know that." You said before continuing. "You both love each other so much; I can see that. Please always be happy for him."

The aunt smiled and hugged you, which caught you off guard, but you returned her warm hug. It feels nice and homely. You both talked for a bit and bid goodbye.

As you walked for a few minutes, you stopped at a nearby park to rest for a few minutes. As you were walking to a coffee truck to buy a drink, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You reached for it to see a message that was sent by your friend, Alisa.

Hello y/n, I'm sorry, but there's been an emergency!!! I need to go home asap, so sorry i can't make it today :( I'll make it up to you ! Sorry again, y/n !

You were speechless by the message, but nonetheless, it's not like you can force her or something. You put back your phone inside your pocket and ordered an iced hazelnut latte. You paid for your drink and went to search for a bench.

As you looked around, you spotted a bench under the shade from a tree. You hurriedly walked there so that no one would get to sit there first before you. You secured your seat, and you sighed softly as you took your seat.

"I hope no birds will poop on me, please. " You said as you looked above at the trees, and thankfully there were no birds. You take a sip of your drink while enjoying the lake in front of you. There were a few ducks swimming, and a couple giving them bread crumbs to eat.

Suddenly you were reminded of this one memory that you had hid behind your brain for years, but managed to slip out today. You used to be in that spot, with your boyfriend— well, ex boyfriend now— feeding the ducks.

It was a bittersweet memory. His name is... what was it? Akaashi Keiji. Keiji. He's a nice man, a nice partner, and a funny friend. You both broke up because of different opinions on study pathways and different future preferences. But you broke up on good terms. It should be okay.

Right?

But it was never okay. Somehow, a good breakup hurts much more than a bad breakup. It made you wonder, What went wrong? What did you lack, or what could you do to prevent it from happening?

You sighed as you remembered all of those memories. You wished you could turn back time to make the right choices, but there weren't any "right" choices; it's all written down by destiny.

Without realising it, your eyes got teary as you kept reminiscing about those bittersweet memories, but it was all in the past. You quickly wiped those tears and grabbed your bag to maybe get away from there before you get more overwhelmed by the memories.

As you turned around, you accidentally felt like you hit someone. Your things scattered out from your bag onto freshly cut grass.

"Sorry, oh my gosh, I am so sorry." You dropped down to pick up your things and stuff them into your bag before standing back up. "I didn't see you there. I am so sorry—". This very familiar face right in front of you.

The universe is being rough on you today. Or being helpful.

You stared at the man standing right in front of you. You know that face very well. "Keiji....".

He stared back at you, surprised to see your face too. "Y/n.. what are you doing here?". He asked, but his eyes are busy scanning your face, which he hasn't seen in so long. He felt the strings in his heart tugging, unsure if it's because of happiness or sadness.

Ever since you both broke up right after graduation, he had lost contact with you. And it stayed like that for years, and now, here you are. Showing up in front of him on a random day, still gorgeous but a more mature version of you. He couldn't stop staring at you, but he's trying to not be a freak after so long.

"I am here to visit home. And, was supposed to meet up with Alisa, but she suddenly has an urgent matter to attend to. ". You replied while still looking at his face. His features have grown more mature, making him look more handsome than before. You won't deny it.

"Ah, that's why."

Both of you stood there awkwardly in silence, thinking how to continue this conversation.

"How are you, y/n?" Keiji asked the question towards you. He gestured to the bench to invite you to sit together. You took a seat and set down your bad beside you. You look at the ducks swimming not far from where you both were.

"I'm doing fine. A little busy with internship preparation  though.". You said before looking at him. "How about you, Keiji?". He smiled, kicking the stones near his feet.

"Normal, currently having my internship at my friend's company. " "That's wonderful." You said while looking at him.

Somehow the atmosphere between both of you is calming and peaceful, even though you were lovers before, but you were friends first. And maybe friends also now.

"I missed you." Keiji said casually while staring at your face, and he smiled softly. Of course he missed you, he misses you every single day. His mind is full of you ever since he first met you, and you never left his mind even once.

You laughed a little when he uttered those words. "You haven't changed a bit. " You smiled while looking at him.

"Keiji, what do you think of, starting again as friends?" You suggested the idea to Keiji. It's never wrong to start again, right? After all, you both are also friends but too careless to move on to a relationship.

The only right way is to start over, it won't hurt. "I'm in, y/n. ". You both giggled and looked at the lake scenery.

Maybe it will work this time, both of you know and want it, but this time, more careful steps are going to be taken.

"Are you not going to say you miss me back?""Shut up, Keiji; of course I miss you."

- reblog/like for part 2?