#like when he smiles or is angry his upper lip just kinda pisses off | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trashcanfanfics · 3 years ago

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May I get a fanfic in Val’s POV where Valentino is in one of the worst moods he’s ever been in since nothing has been going his way correctly and he ends up lashing out in reader?(Im a sucker for angst) 🥲

There were a few more asks that I felt could fit into this so thats what I did! Also, friendly reminder, I write gender neutral! Hope you enjoy!

Valentino was pissed. Nothing was going right. Three actors were maimed, five more killed, and to top it off, Y/n wasn't at work or answering his texts. He had half a mind to march down there and demand why they didn't come to work. He missed them more than anything, really. Val thought that seeing them would definitely would change the whole day. That was before he remembered that he confessed while drunk. He decided to let them be, but he was irritated to say the least. He was losing money, afterall!

He gave up on trying to be the bigger person. Valentino was their boss, fisrt and foremost. He pulled out his phone and pulled up their contact. He'd call them.

The phone rang twice before a groggy "hello" answered. Val's anger raised. They ditched work to sleep in? Absolutely not. It doesn't matter how much he loves them, this was unacceptable.

"Y/n where the FUCK are you?" He was seeing red. Val was also slightly hurt. It seemed like they were avoiding him the last few days. Whenever he tried to talk to them, it seemed something else was in the way. Their breath caught in their throat. Fear. That was fear. They were scared of him. That didn't sit right in his mind and made his anger worsen, but this time, at himself.

"I'm sorry, Boss, I-" there was vicious coughing fit, "-I'm a lil' under the weather." There was more coughing. Guilt bubbled up in his chest. Of course they're sick. They've been looking awful for at least two days now. He can't believe he didn't notice sooner.

"It's alright, it's just been a stressful day today." They hummed back in tired underestanding. "Get some rest, babycakes." He hung up the phone and turned to the closest office person. Val informed them he would be out for the rest of the day and to contact his second in command to take care of whatever else was needed today. With that, he left.

~*~

Y/n's place was that little house Val murdered their stalker in. They appreciated not living in a run down apartment now, but was slightly confused as to how he got the house. He told them not to worry about it and enjoy their new space.

Upon entering the house, he took off his coat and hat, hanging them on the rack by the door. The furniture was replaced with lovely red and black walnut instead of that tacky white and bright makore it was before. He had let Y/n take over with his interior designer and decorators. They certainly had taste, just as he knew they did. The ceilings, he was pleased to notice, were now high enough that he could stand properly.

Val made it to the kitchen and opened up some cabinets, looking for some type of soup he could make for them. That's what people eat when they're sick, right? It's what Vox always made him when he wasn't feeling his best. When they weren't fighting or on a break. He found it weird that he didn't feel empty the way he used to when he broke up with Vox before. Maybe it's because he didn't have anything past platonic feelings for him now? Hm.

He found the soup and then went searching for a pot. The pot he pulled out was...very well used, to put it nicely. Val made a mental note to get them a new pots and pans set. Heating up the soup, he added a few extra seasonings to it to make it less bland. the next thing he found that needed replacing were their dish and silverware. How did they live like this? Their bowls and plates had chips in them, silverware with dents and scratches. Plastic cups from the second hand store? No wonder they got sick! He immediately went online and bought them new dishes.

He grabbed the bowl of soup in his bottom hands while grabbing a chipped mug (more replacements needed) and pouring some juice from the fridge into it. Putting the juice back, he handled both items in both sets of hands. He carefully made his way down the hall to the room.

Inside, he was greeted by Y/n's sleeping form. Their peaceful face made his heart melt. He gently placed the soup and drink down on the nightstand before gently shaking them awake. They snorted and sat up, immediately groaning, then held their head. A headache probably. Their eyes met his and widened.

"Bo-" They started coughing harshly. Val placed a hand on their back, rubbing up and down to help. His lower hands reached for the mug and brought it up to them. They looked at it when their coughing calmed down and then took it, taking a drink.

"How're you feeling, Y/n?" The question took them off guard. Had they expected him to be angry? The thought made the guilt from before rise up again.

"I'm...not the best." They looked down at the mug in their hands, gently rubbing the rim with their thumb. Val rubbed their back some more before grabbing the soup in his upper hands and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I heard soup can help with that." He smiled as he dipped the spoon into the soup. Val offered the filled spoon to them. They stared at it amoment before looking him in the eyes and taking the bite. Val's face erupted with a blush. Why did they have to do it like that? He looked away as his lower hands smoothed out the bedsheets near them. The thumping in his chest reminded him that he had drunkenly confessed just a few days ago and hasn't said anything about it to them since.

"...Val?" His breath hitched wheen he heard them say his name. He looked back at them. "Can I have more?" He just about died again. He quickly dipped the spoon back into the bowl and raised it back to their lips. Their...very soft looking lips. The way they wrapped around the spoon and took the soup with it. He was getting very hot and bothered. Oh no.

"How about I take that cup and you take the bowl, precious. I'll get you more juice." He stood, holding out the bowl with his upper arms while the lower ones reached for the mug. They let out a soft laugh and handed him the cup before grabbing the bowl. Both of their hands touched and Val swore it felt like fire raced across his skin. He squinted, awkwardness forgotten for a moment, and leaned down to place an unoccupied hand on their forehead. They had a fever!

"Uh...Boss?" Their face was red, probably from the fever. He removed his hand and hummed. Val left the room without a word and headed for the kitchen. He opened the fridge and picked up the jug of juice in his upper right hand, twisting the cap off with the upper left. As he was pouring the juice into the cup, he wondered what he wwould do about the confession thing. He capped the juice and put it away.

Back in the hallway right outside the bedroom door, he knew he had to tell them again. But sober this time. He entered the room and walked over to place down the mug. Y/n watched him, the bowl, empty, had been placed on the nightstand.

"Y/n, there's something I'd like to discuss with you." He sat down on the edge of the bed again as they went ridged. There's that fear again. He hated the way his chest hurt at the thought of them being afraid of him. "About a few days ago. When I was drunk." He wasn't looking at them, but heard their sigh as they relaxed. The ache in his chest eased a bit when he saw that from the corner of his eye.

"Yes...That." Their reply almost made the moth laugh. They felt just as awkward as he did over this. That made this easier somewhat.

"Yes, well, I meant what I said." He took a breath. "I love you, and that's the reason that Vox and I aren't together anymore. He called me out on my infatuation with you a while ago but I said it was just a passing thing and that I wanted to make things work between him an' me."

"So...You two are back together now, I'm confused by the continuity, here." Y/n's voice was hoarse. They cleared their throat as Val reached over to hand them their mug. They thanked him and took a swig.

"No. This time it's for good because I want to pursue you." He grabbed one of his antenae and scratched where the base and his head meet. A tic he'd picked up from Y/n. Though, they have hair that they run their fingers through instead. "I would like to become your lover." He finally met their eyes. They were staring blankly at him. His heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. They didn't feel the same.

"...You do know how...inappropriate this is right?" They ran their hand through their hair, undoing knots as they came across them. Val itched to help them with that. Even when their hair looks like a rat's nest, he imagined it'd feel soft. "If we were to be together, how would that look? I'm your employee, a porn actor. everyone'll see this as you taking advantage of me. How would that be for your reputation?"

"To hell with my reputation! I couldn't give less of a fuck. All I want is you! If it makes you feel better, I'll fire you, I'll make you co owner of the studios! Anything to have you beside me and share your existance with me."

"Boss-"

"To allow me to kiss you! To let me hold you! To let me wake up to you every morning and fall asleep with you every night!" He was waving all four hands and his lower ones reached out to hold them by the upper arms.

"Boss!" He didn't hear them, too caught up in his feelings.

"To share meals and experiences! To live with you and laugh with you!"

"Valentino!" This snapped him out of it. His upper hands were now gently holding their face. He enjoyed the warmth and how close they were. They let out a breath. "Calm down, I still have a headache." He immediately let go of them and scooted as far as he could from them.

"I-I'm sorry, precious, I don't know what came over me." He looked down at all four of his hands folded on his lap. They sighed and reached over to hold the bundle of hands.

"I do. You've got it bad." They huffed out in amusement, but their attempt at a joke made his heart sink further. "But, uh, I kinda got it bad too." These words made him whip his head back up to look at them.

"What...?" He could have slapped himself if he wasn't so focused on the next words to come out of their mouth.

"I love you, too, Valentino. I would love to be your partner." Those words made him grab them into his embrace and snuggle his head into the crook of their neck.

"That's wonderful, precious! I'll make you so happy, I promise!" He squeezed them tighter. They wheezed slightly.

"That's great and all, but," they wheezed again, "I'm still sick." Oops. He let go and stood up to take care of them thoughout the rest of their sickness.

The word after may have changed, but they wwill always be his favorite.

#hazbin hotel x reader #valentino x reader #trashcan answers you #babycakes

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chibsytelford · 4 years ago

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Tattoos

*GIF CREDIT TO CREATOR*

A/N - hello guys, it’s literally been 3 months since I’ve written anything. I don’t have an excuse, I just wanted to take a break for a while and it ended up turning into a longer break. Anyhow, I’m back (kinda) and decided to write for the love of my life, Chibs.

I’ll tag everyone who was on my last taglist, but please, just message me or send an ask if you want to be removed - i won’t be offended.

That being said, I hope you all enjoy :)

Requested by anon - Your bio says they’re open but if they’re not dw! Consider writing something where Chibs’s lady’s crow is on her wrist, and she just wears bracelets which accidentally covers it and he gets mad? Possessive Filip is my fave!

When you got dressed up for the party you thought nothing of it when you decided, for the first time ever, to wear jewellery, a bracelet to be specific. You were not one to get dressed up, or make an effort really as joggers and a t-shirt were your more suited attire, but you had promised Chibs that you’d make some sort of effort tonight, since it was the first SAMCRO party in a while. You unconsciously put the bracelet on your left wrist where your crow tattoo proudly sat, free for everyone to see, just how your man liked it. It was your way of showing you were dedicated to him and only him, and his way of showing everyone else that you were his.

You told Chibs you’d meet him there, as you were nearly always late, and you didn’t want to make him late too, for once. With one more glance in your car mirror, you locked the door and headed inside. The place was packed with the other Sons, their families, other charters and of course the usual crow eaters who were after one thing only.

You spotted your man straight away at the pool table, and made your way over to him, wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Hey love” he murmured pulling you around so you were now standing in front of him. “God, yer a welcome distraction” he laughed gesturing to the men crowded around the pool table.

“As are you, handsome” you smiled pecking his lips and asking if he wanted a whisky, to which he nodded ‘yes’ whilst playfully slapping you on the bum.

You headed for the bar and ordered a whisky and a beer for you. “Hey beautiful” you turned around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and noticed a tall man eyeing you up and down, before settling down at the bar beside you. “Hey” you offered a small smile and thanked the bartender before trying to leave.

The man grabbed your shoulder and turned you back around with ease. “I suggest you get your hands of me” you spoke with authority in your voice “because if you don’t I won’t be the only person standing in front of you”. As you said this you looked over to where you left your man, and saw him looking over at the interaction you were currently having. You could tell he was pissed.

“I made sure to look for a crow before I started talking to you” the man laughed, “I’m not stupid”. You put down the beer you had in your left hand and lifted it towards the man, to prove that you did in fact have a tattoo, but you realized that your bracelet was covering it.

“Fuck” you cursed.

“Aye love, fuck indeed”. Chibs was now standing right behind you, his chest pressed firmly against your back. In one swift movement he wrapped his hands around your wrist and pulled the bracelet off, immediately sticking it in his pocket. “If ye’ll excuse me, we’ve got somewhere to be” and a second later you were over his shoulder and as you looked up you saw every single pair of eyes on you.

A few seconds later and Chibs practically threw you down on his dorm bed. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely turned on right now, but you knew you’d have to wait.

“What the fuck!” he broke the silence and pulled the bracelet from his pocket. “Ye had to put it on the wrist with the crow?” You could tell Chibs was angry, but he was also upset. Ever since you got the tattoo you wore it with pride, and not once did you cover it up.

You sat up from your place on the bed, and shuffled forward so you were kneeling in front of him. “I didn’t mean it, I swear” you whispered, grabbing his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you, “I just wanted to try something different tonight, feel a bit more classy with some jewellery, and I accidentally put it on that wrist”. Chibs was visibly calming down after you explanation, but you knew he wouldn’t let it go that easy.

“Ye know that I love it ti be on show, so every fucker in there” he pointed in the direction of the clubhouse bar, “knows that yer mine” he huffed. “Yer lucky that man out there is still standing”.

“As my punishment, why don’t you make it so I can’t stand?” you seductively asked, placing your arms around his neck and playing with his hair.

“I’d love ti, but first, we have a date with Happy”. Chibs lifted you down of the bed and gave you a small kiss. “Come” he firmly said, grabbing your hand and leading you back to the bar. He, and you, made a beeline for Happy. Chibs whispered something in his ear and Happy nodded, laughing. Your man sat you down on a chair in the corner, and you noticed Happy coming back towards you with a bag in his hand. He started pulling out needles and ink and you knew what was coming.

“Another crow?” you asked Chibs.

“Naw love, ye’ll see”. You trusted him, and Happy, not to give you a stupid tattoo, so when Happy grabbed your arm and placed it on the table in front of you both, you shut your eyes and let the man do his work.

“Ye can open yer eyes now Y/N” and you could hear the smirk in Chibs’ voice before you seen it. You did as you were told, and you had a look at your new ink. On your upper arm, was a love heart with the words “Filip” inside in black ink. “Now” Chibs said, bending down to whisper in your ear “ye can’t put a bracelet over that, can ye?” he laughed.

You had to admit, you really loved the tattoo, and one day, you would get Chibs to get a matching one.

“Cheers brother” Chibs patted Happy on the back, “a owe ye one, but right now I’m taking my girl home, and showing her once and for all, who she belongs ti”.

@agirllovespancakes @rebelwrites @everyhowlmarksthedead @angelreyesgirl @deeandbobbymcgee @encounterthepast @starrynite7114 @frightfulnite @anangelwhodidntfall @talicat713 @fangirlingaesthetics @jadesamhart @sadeyesgf @sheeshgivemeabreak @blessedboo @filipthescot @i-rely-on-you @scuzmunkie @trulysuccubus @xx--day-dreamer--xx @thisishowdynastiesareborn @gemini0410 @rocketqueen @destynelseclipsa @i-love-scott-mccall @peaches007 @multiyfandomgirl40 @little-diable @lauraashley93 @mayans-sauce @queenbeered @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @yourwonkywriter @calif0rnia-lovers @shelliechen

#chibs telford #chibs telford x reader #chibs telford fanfic #sons of anarchy

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cheeeryos · 3 years ago

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Prompt: “You’re adorable when you’re mad.”

It was barely 7 o’clock but the air was already thick with summer when Adam opened the back door of the Barns and stepped out onto the porch. He squinted across the nearest field for some sign of Ronan, but all he saw was a blanket of June bugs lumbering slowly around the tips of the long grass.

The sign of Ronan he had been looking for came mere seconds later, in the form of a sound, rather than a glimpse. A loud yell, to be specific, cutting through the annoying drone of the bugs and the barely more pleasant twittering of the birds. Adam pulled two tennis shoes—a matched pair on the first try, somehow—from the tumbled pile by the door and shoved his feet into them without bothering to fix the laces. He stepped into the rising heat and made his way toward the direction of the noise.

He found his mark by the long barn near the upper field on the right-hand side. Ronan was surrounded by a pile of fence posts, which were decidedly (and frustratingly, by the sound of Ronan’s fluid and inventive swearing) not turning themselves into a functioning fence. Adam walked up to the part of the structure that was still standing and rested his arms across the top post. He looked long at Ronan, amused.

“The fuck are you smiling at?” Ronan growled when he noticed Adam.

“You. Getting all angry and shit. You’re adorable when you’re mad.”

[read on ao3 here]

Ronan scowled stood up to his full height. “Fuck you, I’m terrifying.”

Adam snorted. He appraised Ronan’s form, which looked especially farmer-y that morning in a white t-shirt (had he taken one of Adam’s? It was distractingly tight) and ragged work jeans. He pursed his lips in exaggerated thought.

“Nah,” he decided. “Still cute.”

Ronan scowled more and gave Adam the finger.

“Would you rather scare me when you’re angry?” Adam asked.

Ronan looked up at him, startled. “Jesus. Of course not.”

He had meant it as a joke, mostly. A patented Parrish flippant remark. But he knew they were now both thinking about Robert Parrish, which really sort of murdered the mood. He wished he could take it back.

“You aren’t, though, right?” Ronan asked after a moment of silence. “Should I—I mean, do I need to tone it down? I never want you to—”

Adam stopped him. “No. Absolutely not.”

When Ronan didn’t look reassured, he added, “Actually, even before we—I mean, I’ve always found your cursing kinda…well, hot.”

“Fuck off,” Ronan said immediately. “You have not.”

Adam cocked an eyebrow. How would he know?

Ronan caught what he was thinking immediately. Adam had come to terms with the fact that he was no longer unknowable. If, in fact, he ever had been.

“I would have noticed,” Ronan insisted.

Adam cocked an eyebrow.

“Stop doing that,” Ronan said. “When?”

“Well…” Adam started. “There was that time you taught me to drive stick. I stalled your car and you were swearing up a storm and it was kind of making me want to kiss you. It was a very confusing moment in my life, I’m not gonna lie.”

“You already knew you liked guys by then, though. You said.”

“Yeah, but I definitely didn’t know that I liked you.”

Ronan grinned and walked over to paw at Adam’s hair. He didn’t need to try very hard to mess it up, seeing as Adam had literally just rolled out of bed.

“Asshole,” Ronan said. “Anyway, you’re still a fucking liar. You were totally drooling over Sargento that day. That part I remember extremely goddamn clearly.”

Adam shrugged. “I’m an excellent multitasker.”

“Okay, fine. What else?”

Adam thought. “Um. Pretty much anything you ever said to Whelk in Latin class.”

Ronan snorted. “No way, man. You were always getting pissed at me for shit like that. I think you’re just making this up. Hindsight is forty twenty or whatever. You hated it back then.”

“How do you know?”

“I remember all your goddamn withering looks. They’re, like, seared into my cortex.”

“That’s because you also find it hot when I get mad,” Adam said.

“No fucking duh, Parrish,” Ronan agreed. “Doesn’t change the fact that you were mad.”

“Oh, whatever Ronan, I’m sure you’ve never gotten angry because you were horny and didn’t know what to do about it.”

Ronan laughed out loud, cheeks pinkening. “Shit. Yeah, okay, point. I do not miss those days.”

“Yeah, this is much better,” Adam agreed, climbing over the fence to hook his fingers into the belt loops at Ronan’s hips. “Still angry at the fence?”

Ronan leaned down to kiss him. “Yep. Fuming. What are you gonna do about it?”

A million ideas skipped and tripped over each other through Adam’s mind.

“I think you should continue to tell me how mad you are,” he decided. “And don’t fucking skimp on the swearing.”

He grinned conspiratorially and, still gripping his belt loops, pulled Ronan across the field into the open barn.

#my writing #pynch #pynch fanfiction #trc fanfiction #prompts

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satendou · 4 years ago

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⟼ shirabu kenjirou

⍣ cockwarming mini series | previous: yaku | next: atsumu | 6/?

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: shirabu/reader

⇢ au: aged up!au

⇢ summary: shirabu has been working way too hard

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: cockwarming, tired, kinda mean kinda soft shirabu

⇢ word count: 1985

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: i needed soft shirabu dammit

shirabu nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the knock on his office door, too focused on the stack of files in front of him. his anger spiked immediately because of it, combined with the fact that he had explicitly told his staff not to disturb him.

“someone had better be bleeding out in the lobby,” he snarled under his breath, before snapping out a louder, “what?”

the door opened slowly, and shirabu didn’t even have to try and maintain the waspish look on his face-- it was permanently ingrained there.

it only softened a fraction when you were finally revealed on the other side, looking flustered and nervous with a container in your hands.

“sorry, ‘jirou,” you murmured, digging the toe of your shoe into the tiled floor. “i know you’re busy but i-- figured you might be hungry.”

as if on cue, his stomach growled, spiking his ire even higher as his cheeks flushed. rushing up to his desk, you placed the container out of the way and turned back, no doubt eager to get away before he laid into you for interrupting him.

“_____,” he called, forcing his voice to gentle, watching your shoulders tense as you paused in the doorway. “come back.”

tentatively, you turned to face him again, wrapping your hand around your upper arm and scurrying back to stand in front of his desk. his chair creaked when he pushed away from his desk, beckoning you to come around and stand in front of him.

taking your hand, he put his lips to your knuckles, looking up at you through his lashes. “thank you.”

he could see the way you hesitated before nodding, now fidgeting with the hem of the skirt you wore. you looked oddly flustered, almost sad, and he suspected you were on the verge of tears. it wasn’t surprising, given he had hardly seen you in the last few weeks, and then he greets you like that when you were just trying to help.

a combination of new patients, two nurses going on maternity leave, and a doctor recovering from a surgery had left shirabu short staffed, leaving him to pick up extra work that he couldn’t pass off to the rest of the staff. they were just as tired as he was, he knew.

“i’ve missed you,” he breathed, partly in contentment and partly in exhaustion. your presence alone soothed him, made him realize just how much he had missed you. he laid another kiss on your knuckles before letting go, instead pulling you down into his lap.

the desk chair creaked beneath your combined weight as shirabu rolled it forward again, causing you to latch onto him. he heard a breathless giggle from you and smiled, picking up his pen once again.

“what’re you working on, anyway?” you asked quietly, and he could still hear the note of anxiety in your voice, like you were afraid he would get angry at your question.

blowing up into his bangs, he said, “patient paperwork, ordering supplies, inventory, just...anything and everything, really.”

humming, you squirmed around to look at the file he was currently scribbling on, hooking your legs outside of his for balance. “i don’t understand a word of this.”

shirabu laughed at that, a naturally condescending noise that caused you to giggle in response. “of course you don’t. hell, i barely understand it at the moment. don’t tell anyone, though.”

“‘course not,” you whispered, craning your neck around to look at him.

the action exposed the column of your throat, smooth skin stretched taut, and he suddenly wondered how long it had been since it was covered in his marks. a sudden urge to sink his teeth into it, to leave a trail of kisses down your neck before pulling your shirt to the side so he could continue down your shoulder, surged through him. his cock instantly twitched to life and he looked down, glaring as if to say, “oh no you don’t.”

it was a mistake, though, as he realized how you were splayed open for him-- and completely oblivious to the way you were pressed against his crotch.

had it really been so long he couldn’t even control his urges? he got his answer when you shifted just slightly, unintentionally grinding back into him.

he let loose a breathy moan, cock fully hard now, fingers digging into your hip.

“don’t,” he growled, causing you to freeze. surprise flickered in your eyes, waiting to see what he wanted you to do. “i have work to finish.”

“sorry, ‘jirou,” you murmured, muscles still tense in fear of making a wrong move. “do you-- want me to get up?”

he knew he should tell you yes, that you needed to go because you were distracting him, but the thought of you walking out that door and leaving him like this pissed him off. “no. stand up and take your panties off.”

“w-wait, what?” you asked, even as he forced you up. a part of you wanted to turn around and watch him take his hard cock out of his slacks upon hearing his zipper being pulled down, but the smarter part of you did as told. you didn’t want to piss him off-- this time-- for fear he would stop entirely. “‘jirou, don’t you have work?”

“yes, but why don’t you shut up and let me worry about it?” he snapped, yanking you right back down into his lap. he hissed into your ear when your soaked slit landed right atop his aching cock, smearing slick all over it when he forced your hips to roll back and forth. “goddammit, why are you so distracting?”

he reveled in the way that, even after all this time, he still had just as much of an effect on you as you did on him. he couldn’t get his head around the way the two of you were so wrapped up in each other, never a doubt about your relationship coming from either of you.

“i-- i don’t understand,” you whined, bracing your hands on his desk and letting him move you as he wanted. he was far stronger than you anyway, even if you wanted to fight. “i didn’t mean to.”

“of course you didn’t,” he said, lifting you up just slightly and letting the tip of his cock catch inside you. “you never do, don’t even know you do it. that just makes it worse.”

there were times he wondered if you weren’t almost scared of him, when you would cower from his angry words and spiteful tone. surely you needed someone who was softer, less prone to irritation and fury, who could treat you with the gentleness he swore you needed.

yet you stuck around, taking care of him even if he didn’t always appreciate it the way he should, snapping at you to go away instead of thanking you for the fresh cup of coffee or dinner you had brought. he would always sigh when you flinched, blinking back the tears glittering in your eyes before caving, issuing an apology and a thank you before letting you crawl into his arms.

he hissed as he sunk into you, forcing your soft cunt to part around him, listening to your small whimpers of, “too fast, ‘jirou. slow down, please.”

“no, princess. you did this, so you take it all,” he snapped, sounding breathless. his head was spinning at the way your walls fluttered around him, slick dripping down his balls onto the soft, expensive leather of the chair. the fingers of the hand not clamped down on your hip wound into your hair, pulling you back until you were leaning against his chest. “now, sit still or you’ll regret it.”

breathing out a sigh of relief-- even if his cock was throbbing and his hips were twitching to fuck up into you-- he picked his pen up again, starting to scribble on the file before him. your tight cunt clenching around him felt too good to be real, soft whimpers filling his ears as you struggled to hold still. your hips still swivelled minutely, swirling his cock around inside the mess of your pussy, but he studiously ignored it.

your thighs were tensed on the outside of his, feet hooked behind his calves beneath the desk, spreading yourself wide for him.

“settle down,” he hissed, gripping and squeezing your thigh harshly. “don’t look like you’re sitting on my cock. what if someone comes in?”

you whimpered but relaxed against him, breathing coming in short pants as you fought to compose yourself. “s-sorry, ‘jirou. feels too good.”

“i know, princess,” he whispered into your hair, leaving a kiss there. his hand left your hip to rest on your thigh, squeezing once. “i’ll make it up to you, i promise.”

the rapid beat of your heart slowly settled, feet finally falling from behind his calves, and both of you breathed a sigh of relief.

looking down at the paper in front of him again, you pointed at the diagnosis. “what exactly is mono?”

somehow, explaining it to you helped him to focus, even as you pulsed around him and dripped down his balls. you still tensed up every time you shifted, breath hitching quietly until you settled down again. the next dozen files went something like that, with you asking inane questions that shirabu didn’t even have to think about to answer, words occasionally sprinkled with hisses when you tightened around him.

after a while, your hips started to hurt, and shirabu paused as you gingerly pulled one leg between his.

he inhaled sharply, choking on a curse when the other followed, squeezing his cock in the vice that was your cunt.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” he snarled, letting his head fall to rest between your shoulder blades. he almost snapped his pen in two, the hand on your thigh squeezing hard enough to leave a bruise. he pulled you down harder, nudging his tip right up over the sensitive spot inside and against your cervix, causing you to convulse around him. “so fuckin’ tight.”

it took him a moment to reign in the urge to bend you over his desk and fuck you ontop of his patient files, hand clenching and unclenching on the newly forming handprint on your skin. his breathing was heavy when he pulled back, the hand with the pen in it trembling and white knuckled.

“sorry, sorry, sorry,” you chanted, hand locked around his wrist, face twisted in pain and pleasure. your voice was high pitched and breathless, nails digging into the armrest as you fought to hold still at the sudden surge of pleasure. “sorry, ‘jirou.”

“if you do that again,” he bit out, dropping the pen in favor of wrapping his fingers around your throat, “everyone still in this office will know what a little slut you are for me, understand?”

you nodded as best you could, heart racing hard enough to make your head spin even though what he was promising didn’t sound so bad. if you weren’t afraid of what he would do to you when you got home, you might even have tested it, but you wanted to come tonight.

shirabu was nothing if not cruel when you disobeyed him, and it had been far too long since he’d had the energy to touch you.

his lips found your cheek, the kiss gentle in comparison to his waspish words and erratic breathing. you could feel his heart thumping against your back, biting back a smile at the knowledge that you affected him like that.

“let me get this stack done, then we can go home,” shirabu murmured into your ear, tone suddenly sweet and tired. “if you behave, you’ll have your reward.”

“okay, ‘jirou. i will, promise,” you whispered back, turning your head to nuzzle against his neck.

you couldn’t wait to get home.

⇥ masterlist

⍣ cockwarming mini series | previous: yaku | next: atsumu

#shirabu x reader #shirabu kenjirou x reader #kenjirou shirabu x reader #haikyuu x reader #.cockwarming series

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buckysgoldenheart · 4 years ago

Text

Late

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Henry has a reputation that makes you cautious and it’s caused some disagreements. Everyone thinks you hate each other, but maybe you don’t as much as you let on. (fluffy ending, and idk, maybe angst depending on your definition).

Words: 2880

Notes/Warnings: I made this like mid-20s Henry during the Tudors filming, season 1. If I messed up with tenses somewhere, I’d like it of you let me know. I started this story out in the past-tense then changed it to present so I might have missed some stuff when editing, even after reading it 100 times over.

At the sound of the doorbell, you hop up from your sunken spot on the couch. After the day you had, the Chinese food on the other side of that wood slab is the only thing with the ability to help you recover before you must face a fresh 5 a.m. morning with Henry tomorrow.

God, you want that man to fall off the face of the earth. You don’t care if his disappearance meant you would temporarily be out of a job. Being an assistant on the set of The Tudors was something you had strongly considered sacrificing in the past if it meant never having to work with one very particular, blue-eyed, temperamental actor ever again.

You almost quit weeks ago but told yourself to suck it up. You can’t afford to unintentionally cause drama at your workplace, not after your last job; and getting that kind of reputation is not what you are going for. Besides, filming for the first season is almost over, and you will gladly welcome the long break before everyone needs to report back for season two.

The smile you were fully prepared to give the delivery man falls entirely at the sight on the other side of the door.

“What the hell are you doing here,” You huff out.

Henry crosses his thick arms over his even thicker chest and frowns back at you. “I didn’t get my script.”

A headache is already forming just from his proximity and you don’t bother resisting the urge to rub at your temple. “Well, I sent it to your house a week ago.”

“And I didn’t get it, so clearly you didn’t do a very good job.”

With an eye-roll, you say, “Is there some reason you had to come all the way to my apartment and bug me for the script when I will see you first thing in the morning?”

“Everyone else will have had theirs longer, and I wanted to get a good start on learning my lines, so yes, I have a good reason for ‘bugging’ you, Y/N.”

You hate the way he says your name. It passes his lips so softly every time and makes your heart speed faster than your liking. If another man said your name like that, you’d fall for him in an instant, but no, Henry seemed to be the only man possessing that thick, honey-sweet voice.

“Whatever,” You groan and turn on your heel. In your office desk are two extra copies of each actors’ script for emergencies, but a simple text from Henry would’ve sufficed; this is hardly life or death.

‘Hey, never got my script. Can you bring a copy in the morning?’ So damn easy.

You turn your head back when Henry’s heavy footsteps hit your hardwood floors. “Hey, I didn’t say you could come in,” You snap, eyebrows drawn together.

“What kind of person would leave their guest outside?”

The sass in his tone makes you want to pull your hair right out of your scalp. “You’re not my guest,” You say, but your blatant aggravation does nothing to hinder him and his body is a foot away from yours before you know it. Inches he has on you forces you to look up just to meet the smirk on his face.

“Stop acting like you hate me,” He says as he reaches a hand to grab yours.

“Excuse me?!” You quickly swat that hand away. “I am not acting like anything! Any negative feelings you are sensing from me are one hundred percent genuine.”

Henry scoffs and crosses his arms once again. “Oh, please.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief. He is unbelievable. Everything he does, everything he says, everything he is has had the power to make your whole body shake since the day you met him. “God, I can’t stand you!”

Walking away from him for the office, he follows close behind. “You know what, you’re not all that great either!” He yells at your back as you open the drawer of your desk to shuffle through the scripts. “You yap all damn day, talking to everyone else on set and making them laugh! You shoot that pretty smile in any direction and people flock to you like deranged birds!”

“So!” You pull out the script and hand it to Henry. Without giving it a glance, he snatches it from you and tosses it back on the oak wood surface of the desk.

“So? You’re distracting them from their jobs! We could probably get things done twice as fast if you weren’t around!”

“That’s—”

“And you are annoyingly beautiful!” He harshly interrupts. “Annoyingly! The men we work with will not shut up about it and I’m sick of listening to them talk about you the way they do! I end up hearing your name more times in a day than I hear my own, and I get called upon every five seconds! I’m practically forced to think about you!”

You blink at the increase in volume that makes the thin walls of your home quiver.

“I don’t know how many times your face manages to flash in my mind in the course of a week, but it’s starting to get to me!”

Your hands rise in disbelief before they slap back down to your sides. “That’s not my fault! But you’re one to talk! You’re well aware you’re ridiculously, unnaturally hot, and I fucking hate it! The women we work with won’t shut up about you. And you think I’m annoying? Imagine being surrounded by a pack of idiots that go on and on about how amazing you are, when the truth is, you’re so arrogant I can’t stand to be within two feet of you!”

When you try to walk past him, his hand wraps tightly around your upper arm. “Hey!”

“Leave me alone! I hate you!” You snarl at the rage in his eyes and try to shake him off you.

“You don’t hate me.”

You glare up at him. “Oh no?”

He gapes at you, seemingly stunned you have the gall to challenge him. The grip on your arm loosens until you are free. Winding his fingers through his chocolate locks, Henry shakes his head and clenches his jaw. “You are so...”

“So what? So irritating? So infuriating?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“If I’m such a problem, then go.” Ignoring his words, you point a finger in the general direction of the nearest exit.

“You want me to leave?”

“Yes! Of course, I do!”

He quirks an eyebrow and cocks his head. “So you’re going to grab me with your tiny hands and throw me through the front door, is that right?”

“I can’t fucking lift you!” You yell.

“Then I’m staying!”

“I think you’re really not! You can’t just demand to stay here! That’s not how this works!”

“Why can’t you just—God damn it!” He stomps his way back into the living room, script forgotten, and reaches for the doorknob. You follow him and let out an exhausted breath of relief, but Henry whips around to you again before you have time to revel in the feeling. “You know what, no. I’m not going anywhere until we settle this bullshit between us. I’m not going to argue with you anymore. I’m not going to act like I dislike you. I’m not going to keep playing this game, because it’s clearly not getting me anywhere; in fact, it’s doing the opposite.”

“Getting you anywhere?” You mumble.

“This whole thing is fucking bullshit and I’m over it.” He swallows. “Tell me what I did.”

“What?”

“You keep saying you hate me but have never given me a reason, so what did I do?”

Your jaw drops. “Are you kidding? You were just telling me I suck at my job, yet at the same time you don’t think I have a reason to be mad. You glare at me during work, you act like I’m an inconvenience, you—”

“That’s not what I mean.” Henry grabs your hand, and for a reason you couldn’t place, you allow it this time. “At the beginning, when we met, what was it that caused a problem between us? I’ve gone over our first meeting in my head about a thousand times and cannot figure out how I upset you so much that you’re still mad after months.”

You slip your fingers out of his palm, looking to the floor.

“Please just tell me,” He begs. “Please, I--”

“You sleep with the women you work with.” You spit out.

When he stares at you in confusion, you wince and say, “I have this friend…kinda. She was an extra on Hellraiser and claimed that you slept with nearly every woman on set, herself included. When I told her I got this job she said you’d probably try to get in my pants if I wasn’t careful, and I’m not cautious enough about men as it is, so—”

“You were mad at me before we met for something I didn’t even do?” He isn’t angry or looking at you like you’ve lost your mind; more like he can’t believe that was all it was. As if he had a simple solution to the problem that planted its roots deep into the both of you months prior.

“Whether or not you did, it’s not like you’ve been an angel to me anyway,” You say.

“Because I fucking panic when someone I want doesn’t want me! And you’ve made it very clear that you do not want me! You always seem so angry and…and I’m not very smooth, ok!? I say shit I don’t mean!”

“So you do want to get in my pants?”

“No!” He says quickly, then after a beat, sighs. “Yes.”

You give no response, so he continues.

“I swear, despite how idiotic I have acted, I really like you, and I don’t know who your friend is or why she would tell you I slept with a bunch of women on set, but I didn’t.”

You have to look away from him. His eyes hold too much sincerity and all it does is confuse you. You have spent too much time pissed to feel comfortable with the idea that it was potentially all for no reason, so you hug your arms across your middle and take a step back from him.

“Y/N, we need to talk about this.”

You shake your head. “I can’t right now.”

“Y/N—”

“It’s late, Henry. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You won’t meet his stare but can see from your peripherals his head slowly nod. You don’t look up until your front door closes softly behind him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You spend the earliest hours of the next morning sipping coffee before everyone else arrives for work, wondering if the night before actually happened or if it had just been a very realistic messy mix of a dream and a nightmare.

The sun rises and you watch as it ascends each inch until it’s planted high enough in the sky to warm your skin. He’d be here soon, looking for you, wanting answers for any questions you hadn’t given him the chance to ask.

So, what, he likes me now? He wants me? You can’t wrap your head around it. But you suppose it makes as much sense as you saying you hate him when really what you’ve been is nervous. You don’t want to be used again by some man with more power than you. Pulling yourself out of that hole was hard enough and you have no desire to trip and fall right back in.

“Y/N. You’re here early.”

You jump at the first voice to interrupt the peaceful silence. It was the last moment you’ll have to yourself for the next fifteen hours at least.

Turning your head, you smile at your boss. “Morning, Em.”

“Henry’s here early, too,” She says. “He asked me to let him know when you came in, but seeing as you’re already here, you think you could just head to his trailer now?”

No, you want to say. I’m not ready. “Sure.” You half-heartedly smile, dumping the last of your coffee in the nearest trash can.

Each crunchy step along the gravel to Henry’s trailer feels less sturdy than the one before. Though, he isn’t in his trailer when you find him, but standing out in a grassy patch, throwing a ball to Em’s dog, Leo. It makes your heart pump hard to see him so casually soft. It’s the first time you are looking at him when his eyes aren’t already on you.

Leo loyally returns the ball to Henry three more times before you gather the nerve to step up to his side.

“Em said you wanted to see me.”

You notice him hold in a breath when he registers your voice, then tossing the ball once more, he says, “I’d have gone looking for you myself if I knew you were here.”

You nod, but you’ve yet to look at one another.

“The makeup artists are gonna have a blast today trying to make me look decent,” He says.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t sleep all night. I spent it trying to figure out what to say to you but came up short.”

You scratch behind Leo’s large ears when he nudges your legs with his head. Henry gently grins, though you don’t see it. You shrug. “At least you don’t have as many scenes today.”

Henry chuckles. “That’s true.”

“I couldn’t think of anything to say to you either,” You say.

A moment passes as he blows out a deep sigh.

“Y/N…I don’t want to act like it didn’t happen. I know that’s what is easiest, but I meant what I said. The good parts, not the shit about you sucking at your job. You’re the best at your job.”

Finally meeting his eyes, the corners of your lips curve up just a bit.

“But I don’t expect you to feel the same about me.”

“Henry…”

He shakes his head and throws the ball for Leo after the pups persistent whimpering. “I’m not going to make things hard for you. Filming is almost over anyway and if you want, I’ll try to bother you as little as I can. I’m sorry I’ve been an ass, it’s just…you like everyone around here except me, but I’ve liked you more than anyone else since the moment we met. It’s no excuse--”

“It’s ok.”

He looks at you. “It’s not.”

“It is.” Without thinking, you place a hand on his arm. He stares at the touch you give him as you continue. “I didn’t have a good reason for treating you like I hate you, not really.”

“So, you don’t…hate me?”

“…No.” You look away in shame. “And I have a better explanation for that.”

He blinks, clearly relieved that every horrible thing he figured you felt for him was not, in your heart, the truth. “You don’t owe me one.”

“I slept with my boss once,” You rush out. “And, um…got the same warning as I did with you: sleeps with the other women he works with, will try to do the same with me. He did and I let him because I thought he liked me, but…no. All it did was make me feel like an idiot in the end.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I made a mistake.” You shrug. And suddenly, admitting that out loud, confiding in someone, knocks some of the painful gears in your head loose. You’d never told anyone the truth about your past. “Look, this is going to sound really odd but,” You swallow. “…Don’t stop bothering me.”

“Wait,” He turns his body fully to you. “What?”

Your lips thin, but then you smile, inch up on your toes, and go to kiss his cheek. All you wanted to do was provide a little reassurance, to let him know that you now forgive every misunderstanding between you, but the kiss lands a little too far to the right and covers the end of his mouth.

Immediately, you pull back a few centimeters and feel heat flushing your cheeks, but Henry tilts his head the slightest. He takes a breath, giving you a chance to pull back further, but when you make no move to abandon him, he connects your lips again.

It feels good. He feels good. So good it shocks you how much you don’t want it to end. And when you part your lips and his tongue touches yours, you can’t stop your hands from sliding up his chest before roping around his neck and tugging him closer. Only then does he greedily grab at your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh through the fabric of your t-shirt.

Leo’s bark separates you minutes later, though you’re reluctant to allow it. You glance at the dog, chuckling at his rapidly wagging tail as he watches the scene before him. But when you look back to Henry, his eyes are already glued to you, their hue a little brighter and a small smile on his face.

“I’ll bother you as much as you like,” He says and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind your ear.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*reposted for tag testing reasons.

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boom-bakugou · 5 years ago

Text

‘Earn Your Title’ - Katsuki Bakugou

A/N: i cannot help myself- i’m sorry lmao i hope you all enjoy

Pairings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, spanking, light bondage, cumplay, dirty talk, dom/sub tactics (kinda)

Summary: It’s difficult being the sidekick to the infamous pro hero Ground Zero, it’s even harder trying not to speak back to him.

Word Count: 2.7k

masterlist

“He could’ve gotten away idiot!” Bakugou snapped, veins pulsing from his neck as he slammed his fists on his desk making it wobble.

“It’s this stupid capture support item you made me get!” You retaliated, holding the long, ropey net-like substance up to shake it in his face as if he hadn’t seen it fail in over 5 missions now.

“Well then learn to fucking use it!” His words seethed with anger, the two of you only barely managed to catch the villain because of their own mistakes. When you finally got appointed to be a sidekick you were excited but after dealing with Ground Zero for the past month has been detrimental to your patience, it was like the man never calmed down.

“It’s completely incompatible with my quirk! It’s like if your gauntlets were actually water pistols!” You weren’t backing down this time, you knew you were right, you knew he just wanted to fight to blow off steam after the difficult heist.

“Then learn dipshit.” Bakugou’s volume lowered, but his tone seethed with pique. “Heroes have to make exceptions. You just don’t know how to use it. Earn your title of a hero by being better, now get out of my office.”

Your brows furrowed so far that you felt like you were going to tear your skin in half. Begrudgingly you picked up the support item and headed for the door but Bakugou’s voice stopped you as you tugged the door open in a huff.

“You’re staying late tonight. We’re training.” His voice left no thought for a disagreeing answer, so you didn’t answer at all. Merely slamming the door and heading over to your locker to change out of your hero suit which you were convinced was giving off steam just from how full of wrath you were.

Stupid boss. Stupid capture thingy-majig. Your brain screamed in your head, throwing your clothes haphazardly into the metal locker. Just because you were a sidekick didn’t mean he had to treat you like shit, though you had heard from other heroes that he was usually a short-tempered hot head all of the time. Why’d you have to get stuck with him?

Now clad in a tank top and some leggings to train in, you reluctantly pulled your tangle capture item out from your pile of clothes. You really could not be bothered with having to use this thing again. It was almost like it never listened to you.

You ran the fabric through your fingers, although it looked and felt like a bunch of fine hairs, it was actually a net that when thrown correctly could wrap around things easily to tie villains down. But with your quirk ‘wind flurry’ allowing you to direct wind currents with your eyes and fingers it was difficult to focus where you could direct gusts and where you threw the net. Practically impossible.

Sighing, you wrapped it around your knuckles and slamming your locker door shut with force you didn’t even realise you had been storing up. Walking nonchalantly to the training gym inside Ground Zero’s agency.

“You’re late.” You heard a grumble next to the door as you entered the room startling you a little. Bakugou leaned against the wall, a black tank clung to his chest leaving nothing to your imagination, but your thoughts about being pissed off at him quickly wavered that away.

“Actually, you didn’t set a time.” You composed yourself from the small startle, walking away from him whilst swinging the support item around in a circle. Just as you began to spin the net faster with your quirk, Bakugou’s hand abruptly stopped it moving.

“Watch your fuckin’ tone.” He groused, taking the item from you to inspect more closely. Within a split second he had whipped it along to hit the furthest back wall with a small explosion erupting from his palm to help it go further. It tied easily around some gym equipment before another explosion from rupturing down the fabric helped it untie and zip back into his hand.

“Your problem is multitasking, you’ve got to learn how to let it move with your quirk it was designed that way.” Bakugou mutters, thrusting the item back into your chest that you barely have a chance to catch as it’s tail end whips you in the side of your cheek.

“And how do I do that?” You scoff.

“You practise.” Bakugou once again leans against the wall, arms folded and watching you with a careful eye. “Show me how you use it.”

You roll your eyes when you turn away from him, taking the pose that he did before he immediately stopped you.

“That’s how I did it to work with my quirk, show me how you do it.” His voice was pressing, obviously tired of you trying to get this over and done with when it needs work.

Taking a deep breath, you make your usual stance and activate your quirk and whip the item… and the fine hairs of it flail around in the wind. You slump your body in defeat and turn around to Bakugou.

“See? I told you.”

Bakugou shakes his head and steps behind you, with his chest flush to your back you can feel his breath upon your skin and it almost gives you chills. His course fingers direct your arms in a way that you would usually use your quirk but never with the item.

“Now look-“ He places his head on your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck and you can’t help a small gasp escape your lips as you watch him tentatively. “You have a clear view of where it’s going. Try and get it on that pole there.”

He moves his head away and you can’t help but miss the contact of his hair on your skin, but he doesn’t move from behind you. He uses his large palms to help your shoulders relax and they fall down your back as he helps you stand.

“Act like it’s an extension of your quirk, now try.”

You focus your eye on the pole and use the capture item, flowing freely with your quirk before latching onto the pole. It was less abrupt than how Bakugou used it, probably because his quirk was so much more abrupt from yours, but you hear an amused grunt from him before you flick it back and into your hand.

“Not bad, needs work but you’re getting there.” His voice was still it’s usually gruff self but at least he was smiling for once. You turn to face him and he glances down at you, a smirk clad on his face.

“Didn’t think you were the one for dishing out compliments Bakugou.” You mock, the fine hairs of the support item drifting through your fingers as you spun it around.

“And I thought I told you to watch your fucking mouth.” He barked. Bakugou lifted a finger to your chin, almost closing your mouth to stop a retort. Without even knowing it he’d already snagged the piece from your hands and lowered his arm so he could hold it at his hip.

“You know I don’t know how the hell you think you’re gonna be a hero if you can’t respect the actual ones.” His smirk was menacing, and you could only try to whimper out a response before you felt the crack of the net slap against your ass, eliciting a yelp from you.

“S’what I thought.” The way he shuffled closer to you, making you step back until your back hit against a cable cross, the cold contact of the metal a shock to your now hot skin.

“I told you baby- you’re gonna have to earn that title.” Bakugou’s lips curved into a sneer, terrifying you but you also couldn’t help but feel the warmth against your legs that you tightened your thighs to not think about.

“Bakugou-“ You begin to speak but his fingers slip between your lips, holding your mouth open as he smacks your rear again with the net.

“I think it’s Ground Zero to you, Y/N.” The way he said your name was like it was a slur, not worthy enough to be titled to your hero name.

Drawing his fingers out of your mouth he ensnared both of your wrists, allowing the support net to tie them together before letting it tangle around the upper bar of the cable cross. Your feet were barely touching the ground, Bakugou sauntered over to you like a predator watching his prey, you could tell that he was trying not to at least lick his lips.

Bakugou’s chuckles at your desperation which rumble throughout his chest. He strides closer to you, easily lifting your body to stop the strain on your arms as your legs wrap neatly around his waist. He leans in for a kiss which you gladly follow through with before he teasingly moves back, a smug grin dawning on his face before he dives in to kiss you.

His grip around you wasn’t forceful, or angry; it was filled with lust that translated from his lips to yours. Bakugou grazed his tongue over your bottom lip, begging for entrance and when you didn’t give way, he bucked his hips into your clothed core- drawing a sweet moan from you and a chance for him to allow his tongue to explore your mouth.

“Ba- Ground Zero please.” You stutter in between the hot kisses, your hands gripping desperately to your binds as you wished to tug his hair in fistfuls.

“What was that little girl? You’re gonna have to use your words if you want to become a hero.” Bakugou trailed his mouth down your neck as he spoke, his hot breath tugging your neck closer to his lips for any sort of touch.

“I need you- please touch me I need it so bad.” Your whines made his fingers grip the sides of your waist, knowing that he wanted you badly too.

“I’ve gone so fucking long watching you parade about in that so called skimpy hero suit.” Bakugou lifts your shirt off and tears it at the arm holes. Thank god it was provided by the company. “Hearing you dare to talk back to me. God- I wanted to punish you so fucking bad every time you opened that filthy mouth of yours.”

He follows suit and takes his own shirt off, his abs glistening with sweat pressing against your stomach so sweetly it gives you butterflies.

“I’m going to ruin you- make you sorry for any time you talked back to me, you got that?” His mouth was right next to your ear, making your jaw tremble at the sound of his gruff voice.

“Yes-“ You whimper out before hearing a small crackle and the loud smack as his hand makes contact with your ass.

“Yes what?” He presses, the warmth of his hand raring to smack you once again.

“Yes Ground Zero!” You screams out, the noise reverberating against each wall of the empty gym.

“Better.” He steps back only to pull your leggings and panties down to your ankles, allowing himself to slip between your legs so that you’re completely tied around him. Not that you’d change that as holding him close felt right and took the sweet pain away from your arms.

“So fuckin’ perfect, just like I knew it’d be.” He presses the pads of his fingers down your heat, he watched as your face merely contorted in pleasure at the feeling of him touching you there.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll beg for training after work every day.” Bakugou’s face was plastered with an illustrious smirk, watching as his two fingers dipped in and out of you completely glistening with your wetness.

“Ngh- I need you Ground Zero shit-.” You could barely make a cohesive sentence as his thick fingers slowly moved themselves against the spongey part of your cunt. It wasn’t enough, you were begging to feel full.

“Good girl.” Bakugou praised before lowering his sweats and boxers. His cock already leaking with precum just looking at the sight of you, all pretty and helpless for him to ravish. You’d give anything to just be able to touch him and lick all of it off of his cock.

Bakugou rubbed the tip of his cock against your folds, collecting your slick to ready himself. He began with small strokes inside of you before angling himself to fully bottom out. You couldn’t help the silent scream that erupted from your lips as he growled in pleasure at the indecorous noises.

His eyes leaped over your body, taking in every inch of you whining and begging for more and more, his lips jumped to your chest, sucking and biting all of your supple flesh to leave deep purple marks of his desires. You bit your lip but couldn’t stop the moans at the stimulation all over your body. Your arms feel limp as the sensations rang all over the rest of your body.

“Fuck- you’re so fucking beautiful looking so ruined baby.” Bakugou’s hands attempted to ball into fists while still fixated on your hips. You wince in pain but it’s numbed by the vast amount of delectation you were feeling in your stomach.

“I’m-“ You barely begin but he already knows, he can feel it, he can feel every millimetre of you and it’s driving him crazy.

“I know baby- come on my cock like the good girl you are huh?” His cocky tone sent shivers down your spine to the tips of your toes as your climax hit. Your body quaking in his arms. You could feel Bakugou getting closer too, him riding out your euphoria as he reached to gain his. His hips spluttering and the rhythmic beats he once had were long gone as he spurts hot cum inside of you.

It takes a moment before you’re both back to your senses, Bakugou (though out of breath) fixes his sweatpants and stands back between your legs. A chuckle escaping his lips as his fingers push his cum back inside your pussy.

“Suck.” He demands as he raises what was left to your mouth and you happily oblige, your tongue dancing around his digits.

Bakugou then fixes your leggings and lets you down from the support item into his arms, letting you use his tank top as he had ripped yours.

“I still expect you to come into work tomorrow.” Bakugou huffs out what seems to be an almost laugh but you can’t quite tell from your tone, your body too weak to even give a sarcastic, witty retort.

“If training is anything like that then I’ll keep practising.” You whisper, your throat dry as anything after screaming in pleasure for so long.

If that’s how you were going to earn your full hero title, then you weren’t going to give that up.

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out-of-jams · 4 years ago

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Space Trash || teaser || jhs

↠ Space Trash ↞ “I mean, we escaped from prison, accidentally stole this super important data drive, and now we’re about to try and take on one of the biggest, baddest douche bags in the entire universe. We gotta at least come up with a name to call ourselves so they have something to put on our tombstones.” Hoseok glanced around at each and every one of your faces slowly, smile beaming in an attempt to rally the troops.

“How about ‘The Guardians of the Galaxy’,” Jimin offered with his bright, lavender hued eyes trained to the metal ceiling of the Milano in thought. “It has a nice ring to it.”

“That’s a little too ostentatious for this circus of clowns. We’re more like space trash than galaxy guardians,” you scoffed. A moment of brief silence passed where all that could be heard was the gentle, constant thrumming of the ship as it drifted in space. “Oh, no.”

“I kinda like it,” Jungkook voiced and scratched his tattooed neck, accompanied by the agreeing murmurs of everyone else and an ‘I am V!’ from V.

Hoseok beamed. “Space Trash, it is!”

“No!”

pairing: Hoseok x Reader

word count: TBD. possibly 20-30k holy space balls this will take me forever omfg

release date: TBD

warnings/genre: guardians of the galaxy!au. S2E2EL2L. violence. comedy. i swear this isn’t pure crack. angst. space au. they’re all criminals. pilot/thief/why am i here/don’t make me stab you!Reader. (HIIC) head idiot in charge!Hoseok. i eat nails for breakfast but can’t tie my own shoes!Jungkook. pink skinned sassy weapons master techie genius beautiful superior to all others (”who is letting that narcissistic asshole write his own descriptions?”)!Jimin. is that a fucking talking tree!Taehyung. explicit language. one shot. rated M for badassMotherfuckers.

He was staring and you were starting to get more annoyed than you usually were on any day that ended in a ‘y.’

It was obvious, seeing as how he refused to even blink. You’d think that someone would know better than to do it so conspicuously. Especially in a place such as the Kyln, otherwise known as the dreaded bowels of the galaxy’s most inescapable prison. Only criminals of the highest degree were ever dragged there by the galaxy’s military police: The Nova Corps. Murderers, intergalactic thieves, underground warlords, whoever ran up enough of a bounty that a Headhunter would want to cash them in for credits, you name it.

You fell into two of those categories, though, you supposed, rather three. A repercussion of too many stolen ships from when you’d jump from planet to planet in search of something besides the next place you’d put your sticky fingers. A kleptomaniac, your parents had called you. But you’d needed something to keep yourself busy and out of the house when their fighting had gotten to be too much.

Until that led you to packing your bags in the dead of night and stealing your retired dad’s old, busted down, single passenger ship that you’d oh-so-painstakingly repaired over the years. One jump through The Universal Neural Teleportation Network (UNTN) later and you were finally free. Of the yelling, of the constant comparison to your dead brother who’d done more with his life than you could ever hope to accomplish.

(But no matter how far you ran, the stench of cigarettes and booze and the metallic haze of blood from a busted nose or swollen lip or blackened eye would never wash out of your system.)

Fast forward to three months ago when you’d stolen a ship from a guy who was angry enough and rich enough to hire a whole squad of Headhunters to bring you down. It wasn’t your fault that you hadn’t known he was apart of the Government Counsel on the frosty planet of Contraxia, seeing as how it was mostly inhabited by sexbots, and the man had been a pink skinned Krylorian.

Though, sending ten men after one woman was a bit of an overkill, if you had any say about it. But no one asked your opinion on the Kyln unless they wanted to know which way you preferred to have your insides carved up. You kept to yourself mostly. Not that you weren’t personable, you just had no interest making friends with serial killers. Or murderers. Or serial killers who killed murderers. Or murderers who killed serial killers who killed murderers, because there were about five of them wandering around somewhere.

Which was exactly why you were two seconds away from slamming your metal lunch tray so hard into that leering douche bag’s face that he woke up in another galaxy. He was sitting across the mess hall, with its jumbled chaos of shouting yellow skinned, hairless Aakons, and Courgs stuffing their muzzled, dog like faces with the slop they called food, and the rest of the gaggle of fear-mongering A-holes spilling out of their cells.

He was easy to spot solely for the fact that he was sitting at the bottom half of a table by himself like the seats around him were vacated because he had bad body odor. The piss yellow, tank-top-like shirt and matching pants combo weren’t well worn enough to signify that he’d been stuck in that hellhole for a while. If the blatant staring didn’t give him away as a newbie, that certainly would have. You couldn’t see the color of the stripes on his pants from where you sat, so the classification of whatever crime he’d committed to get in there was a mystery.

The sudden squinting of his — what looked to be from the distance you sat at — muddy brown eyes had a glare sparking to life on your face. He looked human with his obnoxiously sharp jawline and tanned skin and heart shaped lips, but there were a lot of species out there who only appeared to be so.

Whatever the reason for his gawking, he must have found what he was looking for because he stood up away from his full tray of food and picked his way across the room towards you. A fight wasn’t on your itinerary for the day, but you’d gladly shove your metal spork through his eyehole if he tried anything funny.

Or if the thing about him having B.O. rang true. The last thing you wanted to deal with was a prick who smelled like a box of musty socks that mated with a sewer grate and popped out a sharp-nosed baby.

Your fingers tightened around your spork as he approached like he had all the time in the world, and a pair of Courg’s hadn’t descended on his untouched food tray four steps behind him like they hadn’t eaten in days. Even though they had just licked their own clean. Your eyes flickered down to the green stitching threaded through the left upper thigh of his pants.

Treason, your mind supplied. Crimes against more than one governing agency on more than one planet. Possibly in more than one galaxy.

The definition of treason ranged far and wide, from assassinating a planet’s leader, to selling trade secrets, to figureheading a revolution. Or something else just as equally detrimental.

The moment he made it to your once peaceful corner, he immediately sat down on the stool soldered into the table without asking for an invitation. At least he didn’t smell.

“Hey there, beautiful. Come here often?”

You were about to say to hell with it and stab him anyway. “What,” was spat out through gritted teeth.

“You.” His voice was low, pitched with a grating vocal fry like he’d just woken up and the first things he’d chosen to spew from his pink hued mouth was that. Leaning forward, he braced his folded hands on the cold, metal table and two tiny, twin dimples peaked out from the corners of his lips when he grinned. “Come here. Often? Beautiful.”

“Oh, is that what got you landed in here?”

Your response must have caught him off guard since his eyebrows pinched together in confusion and it took him a moment to formulate words. “Pardon?”

“Idiocy,” you supplied him with an answer. “You. In here. Because dumb?”

All works here are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission. That is illegal and you are stealing no matter if you give credit or not.

#bts #bts fic #hoseok #hoseok fic #taehyung #jungkook #jimin #will I actually finish this fic #who knows but hopefully #pray for me

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bangtanloverboys · 4 years ago

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cock blocked // pjm

summary - after being away from his boyfriend for so long, but jimin just can’t seem to catch a break

pairing - boyfriend!jimin x male!reader

genre - humor, smut; idol au, established relationship au

word count - 2.8k

warning - bottom!jimin, top!reader, switch!jimin, switch!reader, ass groping, making out, hand job, unintentional edging, jimin gets blue balled hard, wet dreams, grinding, thigh riding, jimin gets very very angry when horny

author’s note - normally i don’t do requests but this was too funny to pass up. also i want it to be known that being a bottom doesn’t equal being a submissive. bottom/top/vers dynamics literally just means who gets penetrated (Source 1 & Source 2 ) so i wrote jimin to be more of a switchy bottom to add more humor to it. i hope you don’t mind i did that and i hope you enjoy!

Jimin was pacing the floor of the dorms, impatiently waiting for you, his boyfriend, to arrive. It was the first time in about three weeks that he’s been able to see you and to say he missed you a lot was an understatement. Sure you two called and texted all day everyday, but he was getting needy. To a point where phone sex and sexting no longer felt satisfying, so learning that the other members were out for dinner, leaving him and you in the dorms by yourselves made the reunion that much sweeter.

Soon as he heard the knock on the front door, Jimin might’ve jumped a foot in the air. He quickly scrambled to the door, swinging it open and pulled you in. Door closed, Jimin pulled you into a needy kiss mainly consisting of tongue and teeth. While Jimin’s hands were knotted in your hair, he felt your hands slide down his sides to his ass where you gave him a quick squeeze.

“Someone’s needy,” you chuckled against his lips.

“Fucking shut up and kiss me, you dick. I missed you.” He pulled you close again. The feeling of your lips on his had Jimin shivering. He felt you slowly prod your tongue into his mouth, sighing he opened his mouth and let you in. With another quick squeeze to his ass, he whined into your mouth.

“Jump,” you groaned, wanting to move this to the bedroom.

Without question, he followed your instruction and wrapped his legs around your waist. With your hands supporting him from around his ass, and Jimin’s arms securely snaked around your neck, you made your way towards his bedroom.

Once in the room, you lowered him onto the bed, your mouth not leaving his for one second. He could feel you grow harder and he ground up against you. He loved knowing he had such an effect on you, reveling on the fact he could get you so worked up in a matter of minutes.

Pulling away from his mouth, you started pressing kisses and nips down his neck. “Please. . . please let me fuck you. . .”

This got Jimin smirking. “Yes, god yes.” He groaned, started fiddling with his belt and you pulled up to start taking off your shirt-

“We’re home!”

Both of your freeze, eyes snapping towards each other. They were back already?!?!

“Jimin? You here?” Namjoon called out from the living room.

“Yeah, give me a minute!” He shouted back, trying his best to hold back a groan. He looked back at you, seeing you trying your best to hold back your laughter. “This isn’t funny!”

“No. . . it is. . .” You laughed airily as you slowly started combing your hair back to fix your appearance. “Come on, baby. Straighten yourself up.” You slapped his thigh as you moved away from over Jimin.

Sighing, he sat up and started adjusting himself. Despite cleaning up his hair, there were still fresh hickies scattered along his neck and his dick was unfortunately still hard as a rock. “God this isn’t gonna go away anytime soon. . .” He huffed as he tugged off his T-shirt and pulled on a large oversized hoodie that thankfully hid his boner.

He looked to you where your hand was in your pants, trying your best to readjust your hard on to hide it from view. Jimin tossed you a flannel and told you to tie it around your waist, the sleeves hiding the bulge effectively.

With both of you straightened up, you left the room and made your way to the living room where the rest of the guys were surprised to see you. It didn’t take long for Taehyung to connect the dots and start laughing.

“What? What’s so funny, Tae?” Hoseok asked the younger.

“You seriously don’t notice? Look at them, we cock blocked them!” Soon enough everyone but you two were laughing their asses off.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Jimin sneered, although his embarrassment was clear with his red ears. “Anyways, what are you guys doing home so early? I thought you were going out to eat?” Jimin asked once the laughter died down.

“I mean, we did. But we started getting followed so we decided to get take out and come home.” Jungkook huffed as he held up the take out bags in his arms. “Sorry Y/N, didn’t know you’d be here or else we would’ve got you something.”

“That’s alright, Jungkookie! I already had something to eat before I came over.” You waved him off.

The eight of you started settling down in the living room. Jimin sitting down next to you, where you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Just deal with them for a few hours, we can continue later tonight.” You whispered into his ear, to which had him nibbling on his lip in anticipation.

As the guys ate, Jimin grew restless as your hands never left him. Drawing circles on his back, squeezing his upper thigh, and pressing more and more kisses to his cheeks. He could feel his bulge harden as the dinner continued, he shifted in his seat, trying to ease the ache between his legs.

You on the other hand were reveling in teasing Jimin, loving how he was reacting to your touch. Seeing your boyfriend get flustered underneath your touch gave you a high like no other. After the past few weeks of him relentlessly teasing you, now it was your turn to slowly torture him. You watch as you wound up your boyfriend more and more until he stood up, interrupting the conversation that was currently happening.

“We’re going to go to bed now.” Jimin announced then he turned to you, grabbed your hand and started leading you towards his bedroom to the sounds of his bandmates calling after you about not being too loud.

Door closed, Jimin pushed you onto his bed and crawled on top of you. “Fucking hell, why did you have to tease me like that?” He groaned as he pressed kisses all over your neck and slowly started pulling up your shirt, kissing down your chest. You sighed as he got lower and lower, starting to undo your belt.

“Because you’re cute when your frustrated.” You chuckled and you brushed the hair from his face. To which he just rolled his eyes and muttered something about you being mean. Jimin got your belt undone but before he could even unbutton and remove your pants, the door busted open.

Quickly both you and Jimin sat straight up but before you could even see who opened the door, you heard a scream and footsteps running away back towards the living room where you could hear all the guys start laughing. You start joining them in their laughter, finding it hilarious at how they’re now intentionally cock blocking you two. Jimin is pissed and you just don’t find it in you to be mad because it’s too damn funny.

Fuming, Jimin stormed out to the other guys where they were all laughing and Jungkook was hiding suspiciously behind Namjoon. “Really?” His voice slightly breaking as he shouted.

“Oh sorry Jiminie! But we-we couldn’t resist!” Seokjin said, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Well, you’ve had your fun so drop it!” Fuming, Jimin stopped back over to his room where you were still laughing at his all. “Please stop laughing, it’s not funny~” He whined as he fell on the bed next to you.

“Sorry, but again, it is kinda funny.” You said, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. “Why don’t we just watch some Netflix before bed.”

“But I’m hard and I want you to fuck me,” he pouted. He rolled over a bit to be closer to you, to which you just wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer to you. “Can we just go to your place? I don’t know if I can take it anymore~”

“Sorry baby, but my roommate claimed the apartment for them and their girlfriend for the night.” Your roommate was very much a ‘no roommate over when partners are over’ kind of person, so you were stuck here for the night either way. “Now come on, grab your laptop and help me pick a movie.”

Once the two of you settled on an option, about 30 minutes in, he heard the guys slowly start walking down the hallway towards their respective rooms. Hoseok opened the door to the room, he gave a quick tight lipped smile. He stripped himself of his clothes and just climbed right into his bed. Jimin just snickered at his actions and continued watching the movie, turning down the volume a bit to let the elder get some sleep.

However you seemed to have other plans because as soon as Hoseok started letting out quiet snores, your hand started to get closer and closer to Jimin’s bulge. To which his eyes were about to pop out of his skull. “Hoseok-hyung is right there-”

You silence him easily by pressing your lips to his. “Then you should be quiet.” You whispered against his mouth before kissing him once again.

The kiss was lazy and sloppy, but Jimin was reveling in it. He loved the feeling of your lips against his, welcoming his tongue into your mouth to gently suck on it. It was when you finally started palming him when he broke away from the kiss in a whine.

“Shhh,” you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of his pants. “Quiet baby.” You squeezed the base of his cock, causing your boyfriend to roll his head back. You pull your hand out from his pants; to which he was about to protest but when meeting your eyes and seeing you lick the palm of your hand and stick it back into his pants, all while keeping eye contact with him, he let out a moan. You smirked as you moved your hand up and down his length. While it was difficult to stroke him within the confines of the cloth, but from the look on Jimin’s face he didn’t seem to mind. The next time your hand went to his tip, you stayed there for a bit. Pressing your thumb over the leaking slit, eliciting more whines to fall from Jimin’s lips.

“Please. . .let me cum please. . .” He mewled, so desperate to orgasm he started to buck into your hand. As you quickly give his erection another squeeze, you start peppering kisses to the side of his throat, leaving a few hickies in your wake. When you move back up to his mouth, he readily opens his mouth for your tongue to explore.

The west noises of the kiss and the feeling of his cock in your hands after too fucking long had his head spinning. He wasn’t sure if he was going to last much longer and by the look on your face; you knew that too, so you picked up the pace. It all felt too good, Jimin’s back started to arch off the bed. He was going to-

“Can you please not do this while I’m in the room.” Hoseok’s voice grumbled from the other side of the room.

Almost immediately you pull your hand from Jimin’s pants and his oncoming orgasm fades away. He was going to kill him. “You couldn’t have stayed asleep for another 5 minutes?” He groaned, covering his face.

“Sorry Hobi.” You let out a nervous chuckle. “Thought you were asleep.”

“Oh I was, but Jimin’s ‘nnghh fuck mee’ noises woke me up.” The elder made his voice high and squeaky to imitate him as he tossed back around in his bed. All of the heat rushed to Jimin’s face with embarrassment as you chuckled at Hoseok’s poor imitation, he threw a pillow at him. “Ow! That’s exactly what you sound like!”

Pouting, he just turned into your chest as if to hide from Hoseok. “I’m sorry baby,” you pressed a kiss to his forehead. You closed the laptop and placed it on the ground then snuggled close to your boyfriend. “Get some sleep now.”

To say Jimin didn’t get much sleep is an understatement. He barely slept at all. With you next to him, all of his thoughts were you and of you and since he was blue balled: there were no clean thoughts in his mind. He kept tossing and turning until you sleepily wrapped pulled him into your chest, keeping him still for the rest of the night to lie there and think. Think about all the dirty things you could do to him and all the dirty things he could do to you.

At some point in the night he drifted off, finally managing to catch some sleep. But there was not much difference than his tireless thoughts as his dreams were plagued of you teasing him relentlessly. Tying his hands up so he couldn’t touch you, barely allowing him to even rut against you while you were on top of him. Refusing to let him have any sort of satisfaction.

“Baby,” your voice vibrated against him.

He groaned as he continued to rub himself against you in the dream. “Let me cum please. . . ‘ve been. . .so good,” his voice slurred.

“You can cum if you wake up,” you chuckled as Jimin felt hair get brushed out of his face. Slowly but surely, the veil between dreamland and reality lifted and Jimin realized what was going on. He was grinding against you as he slept, he looked to your face and your pupils were completely blown out.

For a split second Jimin panicked, whipping his head to look back at Hoseok’s now empty bed.

“He left a few minutes ago to join the others for breakfast,” you explained. “So we have time.” You lower your head to capture your boyfriend’s lips in another kiss, this time a bit softer. Jimin sighed into the kiss, his hands making purchase in your hair. “Come on baby, you deserve to cum. You’ve been tortured enough.” You slot your thigh between his legs, giving him explicit permission to use you to get off.

With that he let himself go, grinding his morning wood into your thigh as you flexed it. “God- fuck-” Jimin stuttered out, the friction felt way too good and after being wound up again and again and again with no real release he was about ready to burst after barely a minute in.

You watched as the dancer moved his hips as he got off on you. You bit and nibbled on Jimin’s neck and collarbones, to which he whimpered and moaned from. “God, the sounds you make drive me. . .insane. . .” you sighed.

“I’m- fuck- I’m close.”

“Yeah? You're so needy that you’re gonna cum after a few minutes?” You smirked at him as he nodded his head furiously.

“Yes- yes, I-”

“Breakfast is read- OH FUCK!” Namjoon swung the door open and quickly covered his eyes. The mere intrusion had Jimin jumping off of you and once again, he was left with a terrible case of blue balls. And he was pissed about it.

“I’ve fucking HAD IT!” Jimin screeched and the leader quickly ran down the hall back towards the kitchen as if that would help to escape his wrath.

“Jimin-” You reached out to your boyfriend, but he ignored you and stormed after Namjoon. Not wanting the entire band to get murdered, you swiftly followed after them, ready to grab and hold him back at any time.

“Out.” Jimin said as soon as he went in the kitchen, where surprisingly all the members were up and about.

“Good morning to you too.” Yoongi said as he took a sip of his coffee.

“All of you, get out. Right now.” He said, walking over to the stove where Seokjin was making breakfast and turned it off.

“Hey-”

“I’ve had it up to here with all of you, get out!” His hands raised high in the air. “Go to one of your apartments, I don’t care but stay out of the fucking dorms!”

“Jimin, take a deep breath-” You started, trying to calm your raging boyfriend.

“No, Y/N, it’s okay.” Taehyung said, holding out both his hands in defense. “We’ll leave.”

“What?!” Jungkook looked at him and he was promptly flicked on the side of the head. “Ow! Fine. .”

They were going to go to their room to grab a change of clothes at lease before heading to the car, but Jimin wasn’t letting them. “Out now! Go! Go! Go!” He shoved at Yoongi as he was trailing behind the other guys as they made their way to the front door.

“Please don’t fuck so hard you break something.” Seokjin practically begged as he was shoved out the door.

“No promises, good bye!” And he slammed the door and locked it. He then turned to you and you froze on the spot, “Now you.” Jimin has never acted in such a way before so this was a new experience for the both of you. “I hope you realize that you’re not leaving here until you’ve fucked me on every. Single. Surface.” He punctuated each word with a step closer to you until you were chest to chest.

“Yes, sir.”

#btsghostie #thehouseofbangtan #thetruthretold #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #bts x reader #park jimin x male reader #jimin x male reader #bts x male reader #bts fanfiction #park jimin #bts smut #park jimin smut #bts crack #park jimin crack

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deansmom · 4 years ago

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(ao3) pls accept this very old mcdanno fic I never published, in which there are feelings and a kiss. also, soup snakes.

"So, Steven."

Steve smirks a little bit, leaning back against his desk like the smug asshole he is. This conversation has been a train wreck from the start.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," Danny raises his voice for dramatic effect to accompany the accusing look he's shooting at Steve. "You and me."

"Have you ever considered that maybe I'm interrupting you because you talk in incomplete sentences when you're nervous?"

Danny glares at him and flails his hands around unhelpfully, "See, this! This is what I'm talking about!"

Steve rolls his eyes, "You weren't talking about anything Danny. We were tailing a suspect and you said, out of the blue, 'do you know what a soup snake is' and here we are.”

"This -" Danny shakes his head and runs a hand over his face, "You know, if you ever let me finish a sentence I wouldn't have to bring things up like that."

Steve grins as he watches Danny start ramping up to a full-blown rant-down (the Williams version of a meltdown). He gets up after a moment and sets a hand on the other mans shoulder, his smile a little kinder. "Hey. I'm listening."

Danny looks up at him and deflates. He brings both of his hands up to his face and groans, "Okay. Okay, so..."

He walks a few steps away from Steve and collects himself before saying, "So Gracie is reading this book, right? And it's been so long since she was excited about a book so I said sure, I'll read it with her, cause y'know, that's what you do, you read books you don't care about just to spend time with your daughter before she starts to hate you."

"Danny," Steve sighs and rests against his desk again, "Gracie could never -"

"Shut up," Danny interrupts with a flail. He's yelling with his hands. "Shut up or I'm never gonna get through this okay?"

Steve stays silent as way of answer.

It takes another few seconds before Danny says, "So this book. Some actress wrote it and she was on that show The Office."

Danny turns to look out at the rest of the squad room and runs a hand through his hair, "She's got this friend and he's - he's her ex. Best friends though, like, the kinda thing you hope for growing up.

"And Mindy - that's the actress - everybody wants to know why they're not together. So she's got this chapter in this book and she says y'know, it's weird, their relationship, but they're soup snakes."

Steve has to bite his tongue.

"And - Gracie, you know, she turns to me and she says, 'That sounds like you and Uncle Steve, Danno.'"

On instinct, Steve's body tenses up and he's got to remind himself to breathe.

"So I'm thinking you know, she's just a kid, she doesn't know things. She's smart but she doesn't, you know - she doesn't know this."

Danny lets his head fall forward so it's resting as close to his chest as it can. "Do you know what soup snakes are, Steven?"

He has to take a moment to get his voice to work before he responds, "Uh... No, afraid I don't."

Danny spins around suddenly, and gestures around, "It's from an episode apparently. The main guy, his ex comes to town and he spends the whole episode trying to explain why he doesn't have feelings for her when he clearly does and he doesn’t want to be friends with her and - it's jibberish. Makes a toddler look like a genius."

He takes a few steps closer to Steve, apparently more determined now, "And he makes this list. The number one reason on it is because they're soup snakes."

Danny pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and pretends his hands aren't shaking. It's harder to pretend his voice isn't shaking though when he starts reading it.

"I lied to Kevin. Holly and I can never be just friends. I wrote down a list of bullet points why Holly and I should be together, and I'm going to find the perfect moment today and I am going to tell her. Number one: "Holly, you and I are soup snakes." The ... and the reason is... because... in terms of the soup, we like to- that doesn't make any sense. We're soul mates. Holly and I are soul mates."

Steve's heart is pounding in a way that it hasn't since he went through basic training and he's suddenly sweating bullets. "That's, ah..." He licks his lips and tries again, "That's a nice story, Danny."

Danny seems to ignore him, keeping his eyes on the paper, “So, there I am, sitting in my living room with my daughter, my lovely, amazing girlfriend in the kitchen and...”

He looks up at Steve finally and he looks terrified - like walking into a tunnel terrified.

“And see I’m - I’m having a crisis. Because this?” He gestures in between the two of them, “This wasn’t - it’s not -”

“Yeah,” Steve croaks out, his voice rough for a number of reasons.

Danny opens his mouth uselessly, the words on the tip of his tongue and refusing to come out.

Steve takes a step closer, well within his personal space now and swallows nervously, “It doesn’t have to be. I mean, if you...” He lets out a breath, ignoring his stuttering heart, “If you don’t -”

He’s not an idiot. Despite what Danny likes to think, he’s not a ‘neanderthal.’ He’s got feelings, lots of them, and he knows what they all mean.

He knows that he’s been in love with Danny since the day they met.

“But it is!” Danny yelps, his hands coming up to rest on the back of his head, “It already is Steven, it doesn’t matter if I -”

Steve sets a hand on his shoulder, effectively shutting him up. It doesn’t matter, not really, because the only thing he can hear is the sound of his heart racing in his ears.

“Did you break up with her?” He asks, terrified of the answer.

Danny makes a face that clearly communicates how dumb he thinks Steve is, “What, are you insane? What kind of person do you think I am, huh?? Realize I’m in love with my best friend and keep dating a perfectly nice -”

And, well, that’s enough.

Steve leans down, slamming their lips together in both an effort to shut him the hell up and finally, finally find out what kissing Danny feels like.

Danny groans into it, his hands coming up to fist Steve’s shirt.

They’ve always been a bit of a disaster together, two halves of different puzzles that shouldn’t fit, but they do, they fit so well, and kissing is no exception.

There’s a literal push and pull and before Steve realizes what’s happening, he gets pushed back into his chair. Danny’s standing there looking absolutely wrecked, the toes of their shoes knocking against each other, and Steve has never seen anything more beautiful.

“You,” Danny huffs, trying to catch his breath, and points at Steve’s chest. “Are an asshole.”

Steve squawks, his hands coming up to grab Danny’s thighs, “Me?!”

Danny glares at him, but still moves so that he’s partially on Steve’s lap.

Something fizzles out in Steve’s brain with all this physical contact and he’s expecting something, something like a kiss or frotting or - something.

Instead, Danny pinches the sensitive part of his upper arm, hard, and Steve yelps.

“Do not interrupt me when I’m talking to you,” he hisses.

“Talking at me is more like it,” Steve mumbles, unable to take his eyes off of Danny. They’re so close, they’re so fucking close, and he’s got years of pent-up frustration and theories he wants to explore.

There’s a bead of sweat rolling its way down Danny’s throat and Steve just watches it go, wonders how angry Danny would be if he leaned up and licked it right now. Probably really angry, he seems like he’s really pissed, and Steve’s not sure why.

Then again, he usually isn’t totally sure why Danny’s mad at him.

Danny’s hand grabs his chin, forcing Steve to look back up at him, “Steven.”

Steve licks his lips, his mouth feeling suddenly very dry, “Yeah?”

“We are at work,” he reminds him, his tone going a little softer.

He sounds, for lack of a better word, wrecked. He sounds like Steve feels, which is a little raw and a little off balance and -

Steve groans, his head falling forward and landing on Danny’s clavicle. Stupidly, some part of his lizard brain can only think about how good he smells.

“Yeah,” he sighs, his eyes closing. “Yeah, okay.”

Danny presses a kiss to his temple, softer than anything Steve thinks he deserves, and finally pulls away from him. Steve makes a noise of complaint at the loss of contact and it feels like his chest is going to explode with the quiet laugh from Danny it earns him.

God, he really loves him.

He watches as Danny fixes his hair, fixes his shirt, tries not to look like his whole world has been rocked in the last ten minutes.

Steve doesn’t even try to pretend he isn’t doing exactly what he’s doing.

Danny catches his eye after a moment and grins, walking around to the front of the desk.

This is the part of Danny that Steve’s always had to experience from the outside looking in, and now, he’s the center of that look and. Wow.

“Hey Danny,” he hears himself choke out right as Danny’s about to walk out of the office.

Danny turns around, the door half open, and somehow the bastard looks like he always does, like this is all normal. “Yeah?”

It takes his brain a little bit longer than normal to figure out what it was he was going to say, and when it does he wants to laugh.

“I’m gonna need that report before we leave tonight.”

Danny’s face does that thing where it scrunches up like Steve’s being the most unreasonable dictator in the world and he starts yelling (’I don’t yell at you Steven, I explain loudly’).

Because he’s an idiot, and he’s hopelessly in love with his partner, Steve just grins.

Yeah, he thinks to himself. Yeah, this could work.

#mcdanno #mcdanno fic #mcdanno fanfiction #stevedanny #h50 #mackenzie attempts fics #personal #otp: kinda surf buddies #this is SO OLD however old mindy kaling's first book is that's how old this is #anyways here I finally wrote an ending for it enjoy pls be nice 2 me #theres so much good stevedanno fic I never felt ~adequate~ to throw my hat in the ring lol

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baepsaetan · 3 years ago

Text

Novocaine Enough | Yoonseok | Part 3

Amazing banner credit to @joonscore

Part 1 -> Part 2

Pairing: Yoongi x Hoseok

Wordcount: 8k

Genre: Exes to lovers, angst, smut

Rating: 18+

Summary: Four years later, and Yoongi is still an itch under his skin. Hoseok is trying to move on, from his past life and his past love, but there are some voids that can’t be filled. Some needs that can’t be met. And when Hoseok enters a club and hears the music of the man he left so long ago, he realizes that some addictions can’t be healed by anything as simple as time.

Warnings: Swearing; implied, mentioned and past drug use/abuse (cocaine, ecstasy, weed, alcohol); past overdosing; mutually unhealthy relationship dynamic; explicit (kinda angry) sex, including biting, oral, gagging, rimming, edging, marking, barebacking, thigh riding.

Ao3 Link: here

A/N: Part three! Which I totally forgot to post before now, lol. Not sure if anyone hasn’t seen this on Ao3 already, but if ya haven’t, feel free to give a like. :)

They collide a little too hard, a little too combatively, and Hoseok's lips tingle when they find Yoongi's. He embraces the pain, even as his arms are wrapping around the other man, caging him in like he's afraid Yoongi's going to suddenly disappear. It's a little awkward, but Yoongi squirms in his embrace, gets himself into a better position, and then they're actually kissing.

This is a moment when they both freeze, as if the reality of what they're doing has suddenly crashed into them. Hoseok's muscles lock, and he's abruptly in the back of his mind, wondering if this is the right thing, doubting it is, knowing it isn't, and maybe he shouldn't –

Yoongi's tongue parts his lips and the acrid taste of smoke and beer slams him back into the moment. Hoseok gasps, released, and his arms tighten spasmodically, a bodily rejection of his mind. Yoongi tastes like he remembers, and this is suddenly easy, natural, and the worry dies, smothered beneath the nostalgia slipping across his tongue. Warmth floods his face, and he can't help but dig the tips of his fingers into Yoongi's shoulders, proving to himself that the man is there.

His eyes are closed and the reddish hues dart under his eyelids, flurrying in time with his spiked heart rate. Yoongi is the first to pull away, but only to nip at the edge of Hoseok's lip and then move lower, kissing along the length of his jaw with just a touch of teeth. The fluttery pressure lasts for only a moment, and then the other man is kissing him again. This time Hoseok gravitates into the contact, leans even further until his weight is pushing Yoongi back.

With a low hum that Hoseok can feel resounding through his own mouth, Yoongi allows himself to be shifted backwards until he's laid out on the couch. They break contact long enough for Yoongi to swing his legs up, and Hoseok straddles his hips, knees pushing comfortably into the cushions. He pauses, then, to stare down at the man under him.

Yoongi's skin is unusually flushed, his lips already swollen from their fierce contact. It's his eyes that catch Hoseok, though, deep and dark and so demanding they rip a sense of urgency from somewhere at the base of Hoseok's throat. His hand impulsively rises to cup Yoongi's face – and Yoongi turns away, just a little, avoiding the touch. It leaves an emptiness heavy in the pads of Hoseok's fingers, an ache in his heart, and he has to drive the feeling out somehow.

Tracing his hand down Yoongi's neck is almost enough, and when Hoseok hunches over and presses kisses into the other man's collarbone, it gets even better. Burying his face into the crook of the man’s neck and inhaling the scent of his citrusy cologne overwhelms Hoseok’s senses, drowning the bitterness in a wave of comfort and desire. Yoongi's breath is a harsh pant, and his voice is harsh, too, when he insists, "Come on."

Hoseok is abruptly aware of the fact that he's eager to do more. His next kiss lingers on Yoongi's collarbone, and so does the next, and when he moves to Yoongi's throat, Hoseok bites him, a little nip that nonetheless draws a sharp inhale from his partner. He does it for a second time, just to hear the overwhelmed sound again, and Yoongi is quick to oblige him. Relishing the taut groan, he pulls away to admire the man underneath him.

Just for a moment, but Yoongi's eyes, previously drifted closed, snap open and he makes an inquiring huff.

Not quite willing to admit how much he'd love to just stare at the sweat that's beginning to trickle down Yoongi's face, Hoseok smiles. "You mind some marks?"

Yoongi's lip curls, but his gaze is intrigued. "You want to?" Before Hoseok can reply, he snickers, head falling back to bare his neck more fully. "Sure. Why not?"

Hoseok doesn't need to be told twice. (But he does want to ask again, just in case this isn't what it should be, just in case –)

Ignoring that, he dips his head and his lips are soft when he starts sucking on Yoongi's throat. They don't stay that way, not when he increases the pressure, and under him the other man shifts, arches up like he's desperate to close the space between them. Hoseok indulges, grinding down with his groin as his mouth relents for a moment, placing lighter kisses around the area he'd been sucking on. Yoongi bucks his hips, seeking more friction, and Hoseok finds himself grinning, a wolfish expression that doesn't fade even with his softer contact.

He doesn't give Yoongi too much of a break, anyways; before too long he's back, sucking on the abused skin harder than before. It feels good to press his mouth against the other man's neck, to know that he's leaving a mark that nothing but time will scrub away. Yoongi bruises easily and long, Hoseok remembers that, and so for at least the next week he's going to be bearing a sign, a clear flag to anyone who dares to believe Yoongi is anything but taken.

Even if he isn't actually taken.

The thought has heat prickling across the nape of Hoseok's neck, and it takes him a second to realize it's pissed him off. His next nip is sharper and Yoongi hisses in mild protest. He goes mostly ignored, because though Hoseok tries to soften himself, tries to gentle the way his mouth crushes against Yoongi's throat, it's still hard enough to inspire another grunt from the other man.

And yet, for all that Hoseok knows he's actually hurting his partner, Yoongi doesn't make any move to shove him away. Doesn't even voice a protest beyond the first light objection. In fact, he keeps tilting his chin further up, giving Hoseok even more space to work with, and his hands are digging in just above his waistband, anchoring Hoseok with a grip that's on the razor edge of pain. The pressure grounds him and he needs it, needs an anchor against the dull anger that’s trying to flare to life amidst the hollowness in his chest.

It's not until Hoseok bites Yoongi for the umpteenth and an iron tang fills his mouth that he realizes the fire is more out of control than he’d thought.

Immediately he draws back, guilt and blood on his tongue, although the taste isn’t quite strong enough to expunge his surprisingly possessive anger. The skin isn’t broken too badly, just a slightly more pronounced red among the splotches of pink littering Yoongi’s neck, but he can’t make himself look away.

His companion asks without opening his eyes, “Admiring your handiwork?”

Setting his teeth over the impulse to say something breezy – and avoid the truth – he answers honestly. “You’re bleeding a bit.”

Yoongi lazily opens an eye. “Seriously?” His voice is so unfazed it subdues some of the remorse threaded through Hoseok’s ribs; it can’t have hurt too bad if he hadn’t even noticed. “I’m not bleeding on the couch, am I?”

Hoseok dutifully inspects the dribble, barely deserving of the name. “Nah.”

The eye closes. “Good. Bite me too hard again and I’ll bite you back.”

He’s so relieved it makes him flippant. And sharp. “Is that a promise?”

A hoarse laugh, and Yoongi’s hands tighten around his waist. “Only if you want it to be.”

Leaving it there, Hoseok leans back down. Much more gentle, he actually spends more time skimming his lips over the marks, mouthing the tender areas rather than kissing them, let alone biting. It doesn’t last long, though. Energy simmers through his core, an awful agitation that only grows with each taste of sweat, with every low exhale that the man under him makes. Yoongi is also impatient, shoving up Hoseok’s shirt as he runs his fingers along his sides, the warmth of his touch leaving Hoseok shaky with anticipation.

Before too long, he folds to the pressure of that wordless touch. Taking off his shirt is, in the haze of the moment, only slightly nerve-wracking. The dregs of alcohol still in his system help matters, swamping any second thoughts Hoseok might have had and leaving him dizzy and expectant.

Yoongi doesn't whistle at the reveal like Hoseok had, but his eyes are keen with admiration as they skim across Hoseok's upper body. The considering look is back, and after a moment of mute appreciation that leaves Hoseok flushed and simultaneously more relaxed, he commands, "Get off, 'kay? I wanna try something else."

Scrambling to do as bid, he lifts himself off of Yoongi. "Just sit there," Yoongi says, gesturing at the couch as he gets to his feet. Hoseok suffers a pang of disappointed confusion at the lack of immediate attention, but all his companion does is shove the table back further before returning. And then he's settling onto Hoseok. More specifically, he nudges Hoseok's legs open and then sits on his right thigh, his legs nestled on either side.

Automatically Hoseok tenses to support the added weight, and Yoongi's tongue slips across his lower lip as he settles more firmly onto the hard muscles. He rubs against Hoseok's thigh and lets out an approving breath, and Hoseok can already feel himself hardening in a way that marking up his ex hadn’t quite managed. Yoongi notices – of course he does – and his hand drops down to caress Hoseok's free leg, thumb starting near his groin and then dragging down against the leather of his pants. "Didn't I say you should take these off? Too late now, I guess," he comments with a smile that's too pointed to be anything but provoking.

The touch is enough, and the smile is entirely too much. With a grunt, Hoseok grabs Yoongi at the hips, both keeping him steady and pushing him down a little. A second later and he starts to bounce his leg, nothing jarring, just a smooth motion that Yoongi grinds himself against. Flexing his thigh at the same time gets the other man to groan, so Hoseok does it again, and then again, relishing the husky sound and the feeling of Yoongi heavy on his body.

This is – almost – familiar. When Yoongi wraps his arms around Hoseok’s bare shoulders to balance himself, it’s that much closer to what he remembers, but… not quite. Not quite, because the small man doesn’t press his forehead against Hoseok’s. Doesn’t look him in the eyes as he rides him, but looks past him, the pleasure crossing his face a removed and distant thing.

Hoseok’s own pleasure feels disconnected, too. The throbbing from his cock is quickly becoming a heated intensity that radiates through his gut, and his movements become rougher, hips jerking with the need to chase the feeling of Yoongi grinding against him. It’s good, great even, but there’s a desperation in his urgency that he suspects won’t be satisfied by coming.

He’s chasing a peak, and it’s not even the height he wants to hit.

Eyes closing against that knowledge, swallowing back the gritty taste of it, Hoseok is caught off guard when one of Yoongi’s arms drops and his fingers find Hoseok’s nipple. Inhaling through his clenched teeth, his eyes fly open and then widen as the other man lightly twists the sensitive nub.

“Fuck, Yoongs,” he spits, and Yoongi grins like a cat who just spotted some cream.

“Mmm, this still gets you, hey?” his lover asks. Given that Hoseok gasps a moment later, Yoongi’s thumb rolling the stiffening nipple, he hardly needs a reply. He takes that as an answer and his other hand joins the fun, and Hoseok’s taut frame is shortly shaking with the flames being produced by those dexterous fingers. He’s always been overly sensitive in his chest.

He lets himself be pleased that his ex remembers, but nothing more than that.

A particularly callous tweak makes him jerk, his leg jumping hard into Yoongi’s groin, and Yoongi yelps – which, honestly, karma – before biting back the sound and scowling instead. “You dick,” he mutters without heat, but his fingers become even more ruthless as they play with Hoseok’s nipples. That, of course, does absolutely nothing to still Hoseok, and before too long he can’t focus on helping the other man get off on his thigh, his nerves shot through with spastic jolts of pleasure that have him barely able to keep together.

After another probably too hard bounce, Yoongi eases off with a light scoff. “God, you’re as bad as a prep school virgin. Been a bit of a dry spell for you or something?”

It’s true that they used to be able to edge each other a helluva lot longer and more intensely than this, but Hoseok reddens at the implication of that question. And at the nerve of asking it, too. He tries to keep his voice level, but it gets higher as he says, “Is that any business of yours?”

Yoongi looks away, but not before his smug expression crumples. He does a much better job of keeping his tone even, though. He’s always been better than Hobi at that. “Guess not.”

The reminder isn’t totally a mood killer, but it does inject something stiff and uncomfortable into the air. With a hard exhale, Yoongi shakes his head, apparently trying to physically throw off the bleakness. It doesn’t work for Hoseok, and it doesn’t seem to work for the other man either, judging by the somber cast that’s taken over his face.

With Yoongi, though, the deeper and darker he gets, the hungrier he gets, too. The more desperately he reaches for what he wants, the more he craves it. It’s always been like that; whether he aimed for money or fame or skill or a high, he’s always wanted it too much.

He wants this too much, too. Whatever the hell this is, between them. That becomes obvious as Yoongi rolls his shoulders, lips pressing together, and then gets off of Hoseok’s thigh, only to kneel between Hoseok’s legs a second later. When his hands fall to Hoseok’s belt, Hoseok knows he’s being driven by that greed. And – maybe – by a desire to make up for what he’d said. He won’t apologize, not in so many words, but he’s gentle in unbuckling the strap, and his eyes are inquiring when he pauses and looks up at Hoseok, silently asking for permission.

The sight of the small man on his knees in front of him has Hoseok’s throat closing and he can’t make himself speak. The defensive anger from Yoongi’s stupid remark hasn’t left, but neither has his own need, and he, too, sometimes wants things too much. Way too much.

His nod ends up being jerky, but he lifts his hips to help Yoongi pull the belt out of its hoops. With an ease that suggests he, at least, hasn’t been through a dry spell recently, Yoongi unbuttons Hoseok’s pants, undoes the zipper, and then his hand is wrapped around Hoseok’s cock and pulling it out of its confines. It’s already hard and leaking. It only takes one light stroke, made slick by his precum, to have arousal surging up Hoseok’s veins, quieting the longing that’s humming in his head.

This feels so good, it’s almost enough. Hoseok throws back his head, eyes hardly seeing the ceiling, breath and words tangling in his trachea and escaping as barely more than an incoherent plea. Yoongi’s always been good at this, at spreading ecstasy with the mere palms of his hands, and today he’s overdoing himself. Sensitive to Hoseok’s every gasp and whine, his hands sculpt around Hoseok’s dick with just enough pressure, just enough friction to have Hoseok writhing in his seat, thrusting into that pressure with wild abandon.

Panting breaths away from coming, he manages to choke, “Ah, fuck, fuck Yoongi, I’m –”

And abruptly the hand is gone.

He lifts his head, something like a whimper emerging from his lips. It makes his attempt at a glare more than a little feeble, but he does try to glare, because Yoongi is sitting back on his heels and flashing a shit-eating grin that’s so self-satisfied it would have been funny if Hoseok wasn’t currently aching with sodden dissatisfaction. He moves to grab his cock and finish himself, but Yoongi catches his wrist, stopping the movement.

It’s probably possible to break the hold, yet Hoseok just limply drops his arm, caving in to the light grip.

“You’re an asshole,” he exhales, and Yoongi bobs his head in unrepentant agreement.

Still wearing that smug smile, he pushes away the hair from his sweat-soaked forehead. “Yeah. But you should be thanking me; this’ll just make it better when I blow you.”

With his cock still throbbing, a handjob now seems preferable to a blowjob later, and Hoseok snorts. “Better? Maybe your tongue technology is outdated.”

The reference to the original song he’d created makes Yoongi laugh. It’s probably the most carefree – even joyful – he’s sounded the entire night. “Nah man. That shit is upgraded and it’ll keep you elated.”

Hoseok’s eyebrows jump up disbelievingly and he stares. Too fast for him to contain, a rusty laugh suddenly barrels up his throat and bursts from between lips that can’t press hard enough to hold it.

A blush floods Yoongi’s face, cheeks bunching as his flustered smile and barely suppressed giggle scrunch his eyes into narrow crescents. It feels like Hoseok’s heart literally misses a beat as it stumbles over itself, a screechy sort of delight building in his throat, and he has to throttle the urge to reach out and squish the adorable face in front of him. In the past, doing that would make Yoongi even more embarrassed, maybe even pouty, and it would be that much more hilarious and cute. Which, of course, had made it entirely worth doing.

Now, however…

Well, now Hoseok keeps his hands to himself, but he can’t hold back the raucous cackles that keep exploding from him. The laughter is so boisterous it actually hurts a little, but he can’t keep it contained. Maybe he’s just that relieved to have something to laugh at, or maybe in Yoongi’s absence he’s become more sensitive to just how charming the man is when he’s abashed and simultaneously pleased with himself. Regardless, Hoseok is helpless to stop the explosion of hilarity, and Yoongi’s failed attempt at sulking doesn't help.

In fact, seeing his companion struggle to latch a frown on his flushed face, only to drop it seconds later and subside into loud laughter, has him almost howling with mirth.

His amusement drains more quickly than it might have – and honestly, the still-hard state of his dick might have had something to do with it – but Hoseok’s chest is just a little lighter when his cackling abates. It’s – he’d thought he’d never laugh like this again, not with Yoongi. It feels so good to be proven wrong.

Lips still curved upwards, hurting his cheeks, Hoseok can barely get himself together when he tries to talk. “Oh-kay,” he gasps around the lingering laughter, shallow annoyance at Yoongi’s antics totally forgotten. “Okay. Fine, fine. Mr. Updated, I’m ready to be elated.” A pause, and then he’s found enough air to add, “Do I need to read the warning label?”

Yoongi got a hold of the hilarity more quickly than Hoseok did, quickly enough that his voice is almost back to sardonic when he replies, “Nah. I’m not the one with a choking hazard.” His eyes deliberately flick down.

Hoseok chokes at that – and at Yoongi’s hand, once again sliding up his cock. Give it to him, once Yoongi’s decided to do something, he doesn’t hesitate to get it done. They don’t bother discussing condoms, a holdover from older days; both of them are pretty meticulous about getting tested, and shared that conversation years ago.

That makes it easy to relax at the feeling of Yoongi fisting the base of his cock, and then Yoongi is licking his head while his hand rubs the shaft in long, languorous strokes. The soft, wet heat flows straight to Hoseok’s lungs, to his head, a blanket of stifling pleasure. His breath is abruptly heavy, staggering, and automatically Hoseok curls his fingers through Yoongi’s hair, needing to feel something under him, to have some measure of control.

That’s a bit of intimacy that the other man allows, gaze sultry enough to set Hoseok’s skin aflame... if his mouth weren’t doing that already. Hoseok meets the heady scrutiny with an unwavering look, and there’s still a trace of laughter evident in the creases around Yoongi’s eyes. Affection courses through his arteries and he doesn’t know if this is poison or an antidote. All he knows is that he’ll take what’s given, whatever the results. No questions asked.

Yoongi is offering him an answer to his emptiness, and all Hoseok wants is to drown in it.

And drown in it he does, in the thick sounds the other man makes around his cock, in the feel of his fingers settled into Yoongi’s soft locks, in the geyser of aching incandescence that’s fountaining through his stomach and erupting in his chest.

“Yoongi,” he mumbles, and the syllables are perfect in his mouth. “Yoongi, you’re… ah … so, so good . Fuck me, you’re...”

This is part of what he’s wanted so desperately. And even if it’s only half, a third, a decimal of what he’s been longing for, Hoseok soaks in the sensation and, in the moment – right now – convinces himself that this is enough.

This is enough, but – but his fingers still tighten, hips jacking forward faster and harder to chase the warmth that Yoongi is giving him. The man on his knees grunts at the added force, and his hands fall from Hoseok’s cock to brace against Hoseok’s thighs. Not a sign to stop, not yet, and Hoseok wants so badly, wants to come in Yoongi’s mouth, wants to spill himself for something more than absolutely nothing at all.

Frantically Hoseok fucks Yoongi’s mouth, his thrusts deep and heavy, gaze focused on Yoongi’s face. The other man has his eyes closed, and he takes the hard jerks with a bobbing throat and squeezed eyes. A bit of saliva has escaped from the corner of his mouth, and his sweat is plastering his darkened hair to his forehead in a straggling mess. Like this – choking and gagging on Hoseok’s cock, fingers feebly curled into his thighs, face strained with the effort of keeping up – Yoongi looks… fuck, Yoongi looks good. He looks… like how Hoseok wants him to look. Barely keeping it together. Wrecked.

Hoseok comes with a muffled groan, the sound tearing out of him like there’s a wound in his throat, pleasure coursing through him in jagged strips of lightning. Yoongi chokes more harshly, and then his hands are pushing firmly against Hoseok’s legs. Taking that cue immediately, Hoseok relaxes his grip, letting the other man pull off of him with a wet noise.

Still gasping, Yoongi nonetheless keeps his face near Hoseok’s cock, and the last few spurts catch him on the lips, the cheek. Pearly white fluid trickles down his chin, mixing with his saliva, and the sight is abruptly so overwhelming Hoseok has to look away.

Yoongi’s breath is ragged, interspersed with coughing, and it takes several minutes to smooth out. In that time, Hoseok... drifts. The sexual satisfaction drapes across him, smothering in its weight, and he makes no attempt to disentangle himself from it. In a different time he would have pulled Yoongi into his lap, caressed his back and pressed gentle kisses along his shoulders until he recovered his breath. Maybe he would have gotten him a glass of water, or joined him on the floor.

Now… Now Yoongi rests on his haunches, recovering alone. Hoseok recovers alone, too. By the time Yoongi’s caught his breath, the painful ecstasy has faded, leaving a worn out ache that’s nowhere near his groin, but somewhere higher, just above his sternum.

He’d… shit, had he really wanted to see Yoongi choke? Wanted to see him struggle to keep up, to take it, just to please Hoseok? Because… what, because he deserved it?

Guilt invades his head, dispelling the satisfaction like mist in a heavy rain. Hoseok shifts uncomfortably, forcing himself to turn his eyes to Yoongi.

The other man is looking at him, and when he sees Hoseok’s gaze, he flushes. He doesn’t glance away, though. Face still slick with cum and spit, his cheeks stained red from effort and from coughing, he shouldn’t look as soft as he does. As tender. “How was it?” he asks, like it’s not already obvious, and though his voice is hoarse, it isn’t mocking.

“Good. Really good.” Hoseok’s hands are on his thighs, rubbing at the fabric, and he can’t seem to make himself stop. “I – If I went a bit overboard, or –”

“Did I tell you to get off, except at the end?” Yoongi slowly rises, turning the motion into one long stretch. His neck and collarbone are marked with a mottled collection of the fresh hickeys that are beginning to show. “Nothing’s changed with that, Hobi. I can take it.”

That doesn’t mean you should have to. That’s something Hoseok doesn’t know how to say. Why are you taking it, is another collection of words that won’t leave his tongue. The biting, the bruises, the facefucking… It’s not that they’d never done it before, but this is a further extreme, and more than that, it’s not mutual. They liked pushing at each other, straining limits, but this –

This isn’t that.

“Well – I’m still sorry.”

“Didn’t I tell you to leave off on that shit?” Harsh words, but said mildly, and Yoongi shakes his head. “I’ll be right back.” He slips away, leaving Hoseok to the shame that’s fighting with his justifications. A stalemate. He really can’t remember where his pleasure had begun and his resentment had ended in the stifling thrill of fucking Yoongi. If there even was a beginning… or an end.

Yoongi comes back too quickly for the question to spiral into something blacker. He’s got a Kleenex box in one hand, a bottle in another, and sets both on the table unceremoniously. Snagging a tissue for himself, Yoongi starts wiping off his face while using his other hand to turn the bottle so that the label’s facing Hoseok.

Lube, as if he couldn’t have guessed.

Somewhat surprisingly, though, Yoongi doesn’t immediately pop the question. To Hoseok’s relief, he’s quiet as they clean up a bit. Then Yoongi settles back on the couch, his limbs sprawled in a lazily casual pose. Not right next to Hoseok, but close. Close enough to reach, if Hoseok wanted to.

He wants to.

His hands remain at his side.

Working his jaw, his thumb gently massaging his throat, Yoongi smiles faintly. “Mmm, that’s gonna hurt in the morning.” When Hoseok grimaces, he shakes his head. “In a good way, Hobi.” Yoongi pauses, leans a little away, like he wants to get a better look at his companion. After a moment of quiet that draws out thick and uneasy (at least on Hoseok’s part), Yoongi says softly, “You know I’m good, right? This didn’t, like, kill the mood for me or anything. I just couldn’t quite finish you off, at the end. Not your fault.”

It didn’t kill the mood for Hoseok, either, and that might be part of the problem. Shoulders hunched, he replies tersely. “I didn’t – I don’t wanna hurt you, Yoongs.”

“Really? Coulda fooled me.” When Hoseok huddles even further into himself at the lightly teasing note, Yoongi hums, a chastised sound. “Nah, I’m kidding. Besides, maybe I want you to hurt me. Ever think of that?”

Hoseok skirts a glance at him sidelong, and Yoongi raises a sardonic eyebrow. “You’re not gonna kinkshame me, are you? I still remember the mirror thing, with–”

“How are you so okay with this!?” The demand bursts out, more of an appeal than a question, and Hoseok can’t stand how relaxed the other man looks. How easily he’s accepting how Hoseok has been going at him tonight. Hoseok had disliked how cutting Yoongi was earlier, the insults and taunts sinking in like barbs, but he’d take that before – before whatever the hell Yoongi is doing now.

Yoongi examines Hoseok for a long moment before he replies. “I… forgot,” he eventually says, the words slow but not uncertain. “How good it feels, how… how whole I feel, to be near you. So you’re rough, so what? As if I give a fuck about that, after… everything else.”

There’s too much in those words. Too much hope, too much joy… and too much permission granted when it shouldn’t be, or at least for the wrong reasons.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He repeats it because he has to drive the words through his own skull, convince himself of them. “Not like this, Yoongi. Not…”

“So don’t.” He jerks around to stare at Yoongi head on, and the other man is smiling, just a thin twist of amusement. “Whatever else, you’re not an asshole, Hobi. I haven’t known you in years, and I still know that’s true. If it’s bugging you this much, it’s not your thing. At least not tonight.”

Hoseok doesn’t reply. He can still feel that bloom of pleasure, that wave of satisfied vindication that had struck him so forcefully at the sight of Yoongi choking. With that in his head, he’s not so sure that Yoongi’s right about him not being an asshole.

“Hey.” It’s Yoongi that bridges the gap, reaching over to give Hoseok’s bare shoulder a gentle shake. “It happened. I’m fine. Hell, I didn’t mind it.” His free hand steals up to caress the many marks Hoseok had left scattered across his neck. “Might even learn to do more than that. But…” Now his exhale is harder, closer to frustration. “For now, forget about it, okay? If you’re done, that’s fine, but I’m still good to go.”

That’s one of Yoongi’s greatest strengths. When he makes his peace with something, that’s it. He’s not someone to gnaw on a problem, to mull it over until it’s stripped to nothingness; he’s too blunt, too firm in himself, to bother with that.

Hoseok… does not have that strength. However, with Yoongi’s grip warm and secure on his shoulder, he thinks that maybe… maybe he could lean into his companion’s strength. Borrow a little of that certainty. At least for now.

Another bandaid. At this rate they’ll be covered with them.

It’s better than bleeding out. Hoseok makes himself smile; he makes himself chuckle. The sound is strained, but it still fills the air with something other than oppressive tension. “If you’re still good to go, old man, I am too.”

A long-time joke that makes Yoongi laugh. “You won’t be calling me that later,” he promises, and closes the distance between them.

They make out again, messier and deeper than last time. Physically at least, Hoseok was absolutely not lying when he said he was good, and as Yoongi strips out of his pants and underwear, it quickly becomes obvious that the other man wasn’t lying, either. Hoseok follows suit, yanks off the pants that hadn’t quite made it all the way off before.

Everything about this is slower than before, and it’s also softer. They kiss for a long time, hands busy exploring each other’s bodies, running over the canvas of skin with careful precision. A rediscovery.

Hoseok feels abruptly – timid isn’t quite it, but hesitant. Uncertain. Yoongi easily steps into the gap left by his misgivings. He’s gentle when he kisses Hoseok, but his hands are firm as they guide Hoseok to bend over the arm of the couch, bracing himself with his forearms. Those hands are no less certain when they cup Hoseok’s ass, spreading him wide.

Yoongi kisses the back of his thighs first, tender presses that still have the air seeping out of Hoseok’s lungs. Everything after that is a landslide of languorous sensation. The feel of Yoongi rimming him is a silky sort of pleasure, inspiring a tingling bliss that has his eyes drifting shut. Yoongi’s tongue flicks against him, slow strokes that tease his nerves, and he keeps at it until the languor becomes hotter, more urgent. His hands are busy too, playing with Hoseok’s balls and sliding along his stomach, and the touches are liquid heat added to a vessel that’s already overflowing.

Hoseok finds himself whining, subdued little sobs that he can’t quite hold back. The first time Yoongi adds lube to the mixture, the slick coldness of it being worked between his cheeks makes Hoseok stiffen and nearly yelp. Behind him Yoongi laughs, his fingers stilling for a moment, giving Hoseok a chance to relax. “Bear with it, yeah? Just a little more…”

Then his finger is penetrating Hoseok, still slow, almost too slow, and Hoseok moans. “Good boy,” Yoongi murmurs, dragging through the motion with maddening control. “You take it so good, Hobi.” He adds another finger shortly after, and the pressure quickly becomes staggering.

“More,” he groans, pushing back against Yoongi's hand.

The need floats through his stomach, so light it’s almost separate from him, but Yoongi clicks his tongue. “Nuh-uh. We’re going my way now, Hobi.”

Somewhere in the midst of the fluttering pleasure, Hoseok has just enough brain capacity left to suspect this may be some kind of revenge. Yoongi strokes his ass while penetrating him more deeply, and another wave of bliss drowns the thought.

Didn’t matter. This is a kind of revenge he could get behind.

The first time Hoseok finds himself about to come, the orgasm gathering force at the edge of his groin and his voice pitching up into raw breathlessness, he’s severely disappointed. Abruptly Yoongi’s fingers are gone, and even worse, his other hand is wrapped around the tip of Hoseok’s cock, lightly squeezing. Hoseok’s orgasm rises – hovers – and then falls away, back into a simmering intensity that has him writhing petulantly.

“Yoongi,” he gasps accusingly when he’s found enough breath to get anything out.

“So impatient,” Yoongi drawls, fingers dragging against Hoseok’s ass cheek in teasing circles – but doing nothing more than that.

“You are such an – ah. ”

Yoongi doesn’t move his fingers much once he’s slid them back in, just mild motions, enough to keep the fires in Hoseok’s gut stoked but no more than that. “Do you wanna beg me, Hobi? I’d probably let you get off if you did.”

A memory. Yoongi leaning over him and Hoseok so strung out he’s almost delirious. Strung out on Molly, yeah, but on feelings, too. A tsunami of sensations. An affection that’s so keen it hurts as he gazes into Yoongi’s blown pupils. The words, falling from his mouth in a nearly incoherent stream. “Please, Yoongi, please, I want you so bad, I want – I want – Please.”

He drops his head, presses his face against the forearm that’s braced against the couch’s arm. “Such an asshole.” The words are muffled, but Yoongi clearly hears them because he huffs, caught between a chuckle and a scoff.

“Suit yourself.”

When Yoongi’s fingers leave Hoseok, he has just enough time to be extravagantly dissatisfied before the other man puts one hand on his hip, the other sliding up his spine to rest on the nape of his neck. From that position Yoongi leans over him, hips pressing into his ass, breath tickling his face. “You ready for something a bit more?”

“Only if it’s actually more,” Hoseok retorts.

A hard breath and then Yoongi gently nips at the outer shell of his ear, a teasing rebuke. “‘Course it will be.”

Though he takes his goddamn time with this, too. Settles back and preps himself with more lube, to judge by the tense sounds he makes, and Hoseok glances back a few times to enjoy the sight of Yoongi stroking his cock. After some time – more time than is needed, Yoongi’s eyes alight with wicked amusement when Hoseok squirms – he guides himself to Hoseok, the other hand returning to grip the back of his neck. Enters him with a gradual thrust that’s slick and easy because of the lube. Almost too easy, leaving Hoseok panting for more.

Yoongi’s not a liar, though. At least not about this. He gives Hoseok more, and then some.

His dick is more than enough to fill Hoseok, a swelling force that only grows as Yoongi pushes himself in more deeply. The heat builds, swelters, sweeps across Hoseok’s muscles until he’s trembling with the intensity of it. His partner’s sounds – guttural grunts that pitch into tantalizing breathlessness – just enhance the feverish frenzy.

Yoongi is as deliberate as before, but – thank fucking God – he picks up the pace before too long. His tempo is jarring in its relentless drive, and he hammers into Hoseok with so much force that it becomes hard to hold himself up on the couch arm.

A particularly strong thrust spills Hoseok off his balance, and he pitches forward and finds himself hanging off the edge of the couch, the arm pushing into his lower chest. The sudden change in position puts Yoongi at just the right angle, and his next stroke has Hoseok crying out with the burn of pleasure. The other man slows, but Hoseok manages to croak, “No, Yoongs, keep – keep going,” and Yoongi obliges.

At last, and too soon, he comes. The tidal wave of electric heat surges from Hoseok’s groin, splashes against his nerves and sends waves of shuddering release through his trembling body as his back arches. Hoseok shakes with the intensity of his peak, whining gasps escaping his lips, his vision white around the edges. He can feel his cum trickling down his leg, and the sensation makes him sag. It takes all he has not to collapse completely, to just let the pleasure overwhelm him.

But Yoongi’s still going, so Hoseok does the best he can to keep upright. After the initial flurry of gut-wrenching fervor, it gets easier, and he rolls his hips a bit, pushes back, trying to return the favour. Yoongi’s hand never left his neck, and it tightens now as Yoongi’s strokes become faster, shorter, more erratic. “Fuck, Hobi,” he’s panting, the words a slur of feeling. “You’re so – perfect. So much ...”

Hoseok feels Yoongi’s orgasm as a pulsing at the base of his cock, buried in Hoseok’s ass. As, seconds later, an increased wetness pooling inside. More vivid is Yoongi’s voice, huskily crying out, his tone a tapestry of gratified colours.

He can read that tapestry, and to hear Yoongi elevated to those blissful highs makes something in Hoseok’s chest tighten and lighten simultaneously. When Yoongi slumps against him, rubbing his face into Hoseok’s shoulder, the exhilaration just soars, a sweet joy that they still have this. Can still leave each other spent in the best way possible.

The past wavers against the future like a mirage rising from the road, difficult to separate, but for this moment, with Yoongi a warm weight against his back, Hoseok ignores the presence of the illusion. He flops onto the couch, and Yoongi falls partially on him with a grunt of agreement. They lie there for several minutes, and the other man barely moves, his breathing deep and steady as it spills against Hoseok’s skin.

It doesn’t last forever. It can’t. But while it does, he closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy the careless way Yoongi slouches into him. Like it’s natural. Like they’re both exactly where they’re supposed to be. He lets himself believe in the reassuring burden at his back. Lets himself believe, for now, that it won’t suddenly disappear.

Yoongi lifts himself up after a while, but not before nuzzling against Hoseok’s shoulder a final time. “Time to clean up,” he whispers, and then he’s pulling out in a gush of sticky warmth that stains Hoseok’s thighs and probably the couch, too.

The next few minutes are all business, though this, at least, isn’t caused by whatever alienation is between them. Yoongi’s always been very no-nonsense about clean-up, and Hoseok is enough of a neat freak to jump on that wagon with wholehearted purpose. They don’t talk, and at first that’s fine, the familiarity of the tasks before them settling naturally into the silence. They wipe themselves off, fix the squished cushions. As Hoseok pulls on his pants, Yoongi disappears and then reappears with cleaning supplies.

By mutual agreement, Hoseok scrubs the floor and Yoongi tackles the couch. It’s as his knees are pressed into the floor and he’s briskly wiping at the puddle left by the blowjob that discomfort starts to creep up on him, and the quiet begins to grate.

Even when they’re done and Yoongi’s flipped the worst of the cushions with nonchalant disregard for whoever turns it over in the future, the silence stays. They settle back onto the couch – Yoongi in a new set of clothes he’d recovered from his room down the hallway, black sweats and a grey T-shirt – and this is different than the agonizingly tense stillness of before.

It’s more tired, less hostile. But no less bewildered, for all of that.

Hoseok wonders how stupid it is to wish that, just once, a bandaid could cure gaping wounds and broken hearts.

At least Yoongi isn’t sitting much apart from him. As they recline, Yoongi with his feet up on the table, the smaller man is close enough to touch. Hoseok, made greedy by everything that’s gone before, too drained to be afraid enough to stop, holds out his hand. After a moment of hesitation, Yoongi settles his hand on top. Not quite holding – his fingertips trace fitfully across Hoseok’s palm, a ticklish series of swirls and lines.

Yoongi seems content to sit as they are; his eyes are half-closed, and he doesn’t stir like Hoseok does, every few seconds shifting and tensing. Yoongi is good at accepting the things in his hands, especially if it’s what he’s wanted all along. For Hoseok, though…

The anxiety grows, and if it isn’t anywhere near strong enough to displace the satisfaction and almost-wholeness of the last hour or so, it’s too stubborn to totally dislodge from his mind.

He steals a look at Yoongi, at his long lashes lazily fluttering over his dark eyes, at the slight curl of his mouth, an unconscious expression of contentment. The sight has Hoseok’s throat closing with yearning, and he honestly can’t tell if it’s a longing for the man or his ability to exist in the moment. Hoseok used to be good at that – he used to be the best – but it’s something he’s lost over the years.

Just like so much else. How much of it can he get back? How much should he get back?

What if he wants it all?

He stirs for the umpteenth time, but more forcefully. When he withdraws his hand, Yoongi’s eyes slide open, head tipping to consider him. His expression is watchful and solemn, so much so that Hoseok realizes he hadn’t been as at ease as Hoseok had thought.

“Tired?” Yoongi asks wanly.

“Something like that,” Hoseok replies, just as faded.

There isn’t a window in this room, but there must be one in the kitchen because Yoongi says, “It’s almost a fucking snowstorm out there. Not much point in you going home in that.”

There’s a pause, and Yoongi’s gaze drifts to the hallway leading to his room. He hadn’t offered the space for them to fuck around in – a hurt that Hoseok buried deep in his chest when they began – and he seems to be struggling now. Furrows appear between his fine eyebrows, an eloquent testament to the conflict going on in his head, a return to the tension of before. Hoseok abruptly can’t bear to see it.

They both want so badly, but sometimes – for just today, or maybe forever – they have to accept that they can’t have it all.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” Yoongi stills at the declaration Hoseok makes, his hand coming up to press against his neck like he needs reassurance.

It’s such a lost, lonely look. Hoseok swallows, and then smiles. One of his better pieces. “It’s fine. You always get those rocks for pillows, I’ll be better out here.”

“They’re good for my neck,” Yoongi mutters, but his hand doesn’t leave his throat and he still looks unsure. Like any second he might blurt out the invitation that neither of them are really comfortable accepting.

“I still move around like a psycho in my sleep, Yoongs, ‘specially in an unfamiliar bed. Believe me, it’s better if I’m out here.” He meets Yoongi’s gaze, tries to reassure with eyes alone that he is okay with this.

And he is. Insofar as he’s been okay with anything tonight.

At last Yoongi relents and his hand falls. “‘Kay. I’ll grab you some shit.”

Blankets, a pillow, some oversized sweats, a toothbrush, they’re all unceremoniously dumped onto the couch. Yoongi – somewhat belatedly – gives him a tour of the small apartment, though it doesn’t include his room. It’s essentially to point out the bathroom and where the chipped glasses for water are in the kitchen. As he’d said, it’s snowing hard outside, and when Hoseok returns to the living room he actually feels grateful to be able to curl into blankets instead of straggling outside in the cold.

The rest is just cleaning up, fastidiously making a bed for himself, throwing on the sweatpants Yoongi provided, and then reclining on the couch. It’s just a bit too small, and he might or might not find himself falling off it at some point during the night – he was being honest about the restlessness thing – but nonetheless Hoseok grins at Yoongi, hovering nearby.

“Perfect!” he declares, stretching out his arms and wiggling his toes under the blanket.

Yoongi lifts an eyebrow at the enthusiastic and totally not excessive display. “You look like a kid at your first sleepover,” he observes with a snort that does nothing to dispel the affection in his voice.

Hoseok squirms his way deeper into the blankets in reply.

Smiling faintly, Yoongi shakes his head. “Night, Hobi. You want the light off?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

The living room is abruptly dark, leaving just the light spilling from behind the door to Yoongi’s bedroom, left slightly ajar. Hoseok wiggles a few more times, finding a more comfortable position. It’s as he’s sinking into the cushions with a sudden sense of exhaustion that he realizes Yoongi isn’t in his room; his silhouette is breaking up the light coming from there.

He cranes his neck, can’t see anything but Yoongi’s dim outline down the hall, and gives it up as a bad job. Instead Hoseok just stares up at the ceiling he can’t see, listening to the sound of his own steady breathing. He waits.

“Hey, Hobi?” Yoongi’s voice eventually slips through the dark room, diffidently calling for Hoseok’s attention, and he murmurs a quiet question in return.

“I missed you, too.”

It comes to Hoseok as Yoongi’s door softly closes that he’s holding his breath. Like a sudden exhale might release the thrumming in his chest. Like he might spill the nebulous joy if he sighs too hard. His thoughts are fragile with uncertainty. The elation is a shivery, delicate thing, and he knows if he holds it too hard in his head it’s going to go to pieces under the weight of the past.

So Hoseok doesn’t hold the words hard. He breathes. Breathes and closes his eyes and pushes his face into the pillow that smells like Yoongi. He follows those words as he slips into sleep, and he couldn’t have said where they were leading him.

#yoongi x hoseok #yoonseok #sope #yoonseok smut #yoongi #hoseok #my fic

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lyssismagical · 4 years ago

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you were never mine

I’m a bad student somebody stop me

AKA I wrote this on my phone during a zoom call for class, so it’s not the best and it’s kinda messy but here we are anyway

TW: abusive parent, violence, blood

another piece of a shameless au i’ll write one day

There’s an ear-splitting noise that sounds a lot like glass shattering, and Abbie flinches, tucking herself closer against the wall, one arm wrapped around a sibling, more by her feet.

Their mom showing up, out of the blue, was protocol for what started out as a decent weekend. Harley ushered them all off, passing Bentley off to Abbie, as soon as he’d smelled the alcohol and weed on her.

From Harley’s bedroom, they could hear everything that was happening downstairs, words mostly muffled but emotions just as clear as day.

Bentley’s on her lap, Jonah and Dayton on either side of her, Aspen sitting on the other end of the bed, and Sebastian is on Aspen’s other side.

Harley’s room smells like him. Like gunpowder, leather, cheap soap, and strawberry milkshakes from the diner. It makes them all feel safe, knowing Harley’s out there protecting them, keeping them safe, always.

Downstairs, muffled and distant, Harley’s shouting, “They’re not your kids, Macy. They were never your kids!”

And Macy sounds like she’s crying, and Abbie can picture exactly what she looks like in that moment. Desperate and scared and angry, hair wild and eyes tired, reaching out to try to comfort Harley like he was ever her son.

She’s always been pretty, in that hardened Tennessee way. Auburn hair, long but always tied back, skin clear and tan, eyes a dark honey-brown, hands calloused and angles sharp.

Most of the Keeners have a lot of those same features. Especially the oldest, the ones that were Dad’s and Mom’s, not just one or the other. The younger they get, the farther apart they look.

Bentley, the youngest, is Dad’s, not Mom’s, and she barely looks like family. She’s lighter and softer than any of the other Keeners, blue-eyed and a blonde tuft of hair, porcelain skin with softer edges.

“Why is he yelling at her?” Dayton asks. He’s so young, only eight-years-old and he’s facing all this pain and suffering at the hands of the people who were meant to love him unconditionally. He barely knows Mom, doesn’t know who his dad is. He doesn’t understand why things happened the way they did, doesn’t get why Harley’s so pissed at Mom, doesn’t understand why he can’t have clothes that aren’t hand-me-downs.

And Abbie just shushes him because she can’t begin to explain why.

“They’re my babies! You can’t keep them from me! I’m their mom!” Macy’s shouting downstairs. There’s more glass shattering and Abbie pulls Bentley closer when she hears the telltale sound of skin on skin.

“What if I did let you see them?” Harley demands, voice trembling and an octave higher. “Would you hit Aspen too? Would you attack Dayton? Would you scream at Abbie? Would you make their lives hell?”

She can’t make out what Macy says in response to that, but she can guess it’s nothing but lies and grasping for pity.

“I wanna see her,” Jonah says, blinking up at Abbie. “Why can’t I see her?”

“Macy isn’t a good person.” She’s pissed, shaking with the fiery anger that’s flooding through her, and she hates that this it what she’s forced to do. Hates that Harley has to take the brunt of everything.

There’s a future for them, she thinks, as she looks around at her siblings. There’s a future there.

Harley’s set it all up for them, made sure they’ll be ready to get out of Rose Hill one day. He’s going to get them all through school, going to send them off to live their lives, far and wide, doing anything they wish to do.

Abbie’s going to go to New York. She’s going to get a full ride to Harvard, she’s going to be lawyer, she’s going to be successful and live on the coast. She’s going to be the first Keener to graduate high school, the first to go to college, the first to have a real job, the first to make it out of Rose Hill with a future, the first to be be above the poverty line, the first to make it to nineteen without an unplanned pregnancy.

And the rest of them will follow. Aspen, Sebastian, Dayton, Jonah, Bentley, and whichever children will be dumped on them from Mom or Dad or a stranger claiming to have Dad’s child.

All of them but Harley.

Harley will be tied to them until the day the youngest Keener gets out of Rose Hill. Even if they’re lucky enough to be done with Bentley, Harley will be stuck here until he’s thirty-five, never have graduated high school.

“I’ve given up everything for them!” Harley cries, loud enough for them to hear, clear and heartbreaking all the same. “You’ve done nothing but take and take and take, and I’ve had to fill in every gap. I’ve been their mom, their dad, their brother, their sole caretaker, their breadwinner, their chaperone, their everything. And you’ve been nothing. You’ve done nothing for them. The best thing you ever did to those kids was leave them.”

And it hurts like Abbie’s been shot, clinging to her brothers, bleeding out on Harley’s bedspread, dying unable to make a sound.

“I want a second chance. Just let me have the littlest one, Bentley, let me take her and have a second chance at being a mother!”

“You can’t just show up and take your fucking pick!” Harley shouts, a sob caught in his throat. “You weren’t here, Macy! You weren’t here to change their diapers or help with math homework or go to their sports games. I was here! This is about what I did!”

Macy goes to say something, but it goes unheard under Harley’s tearfully loud voice.

“I was here! I was always here when you weren’t! And you know what? I did a fucking good job,” Harley says, shouting and crying and desperate. “Abbie’s captain of the volleyball team and junior class president! Aspen’s got a perfect GPA! Sebastian’s captain of the debate team, he volunteers at the animal shelter on the weekends! Dayton made a solar system for science and got an A plus! Jonah’s running now, he’s talking in full sentences, he’s fully potty trained, and he’s starting kindergarten next fall. Bentley, she’s an angel. Her first word was Harley. I was here! Where the fuck were you?”

“I’m here now, Harley,” Macy says, almost too quiet for the kids to hear upstairs. “I deserve to see my children.”

“They don’t even know who you are!” Harley shouts and there’s more glass breaking.

Macy’s voice drops lower. “I’m their mother.”

“You were my mother too!”

“Please, Harley,” Macy begs. “I just want to see my children.”

But Harley’s never given up that easily, he’s never let anything come between him and his family. “No. Just get out. I’m not letting you see them. I’m not going to let you brainwash them”

It goes quiet after that, save for a few muffled noises every now and again.

“Is he okay? Do you think she- Do you think she killed him?”

Abbie hits Sebastian on the arm. “Don’t say something like that, you’ll scare the little ones.”

“I’m serious. Are you sure he’s going to be okay?”

“When has Harley not been okay, Bas?”

It’s not the truth, Harley’s been far from okay for a very long time. And normally, encounters with Macy ends pretty badly for him.

But there’s nothing they can do. Harley’s strictest rule is that when he tells them to hide, they can’t come out until Harley comes to get them. If Abbie leaves, that leaves Aspen, fourteen years old, to protect them.

Abbie’s job is to stay here, protect the littlest one if, for some reason, Macy comes after them.

It only takes about an hour for Harley to get up to them, shouldering the door open.

He’s bruised and bloody and limping, but he’s somehow got a wide smile on his face. “Macy has officially left the building.”

“What the fuck did she do to you?”

Abbie’s up and over in a second, passing Bentley off to Bas, and grabbing his chin to get a better look at him. It looks like he broke his nose, blood smeared on his upper lip, right eye swollen nearly shut, one arm cradled against his ribs, fingers splayed on his chest. His lip is split open, jaw bruised, glass still clinging to his shirt.

“It’s fine. She’s gone, she’s not coming back for a while. We’re safe and sound. How do we feel about mac and cheese for dinner?”

There’s not much they can say otherwise, watching Harley grin, teeth stained with blood, and nodding to the door.

It’s not like Harley would listen to any of them anyway. He loves them too much to let them talk him out of keeping them safe.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina @fancyxparker @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @misskirkstark @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10 @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled @fallenstar07 @gyurolls @sdottkrames {Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed}

buy me a coffee

#lyss writes #shameless au #i'll write a real shameless au one of these days #for now. oneshots #harley keener #abbie keener #jonah keener #sebastian keener #dayton keener #aspen keener #bentley keener #parkner

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btssmutficslovingfan01 · 4 years ago

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Do Me

Summary: You hate each other but there’s something just so sexy about him.

Words: 4.9k

Pairing(s): Hoseok x (female) Reader, Slight Jin x Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: First Person POV, mature language, sexual humor, graphic sexual descriptions, the sex feels kinda real, reader doesn’t say it but it looks like she’s a virgin, mentions of open relationships, this entire story is literally a buildup to a gangbang also kinda badly written but that’s the charm

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He glared at me as I ran across the field, my shorts riding up my thighs and flashing him quite a bit of skin. I knew what he wanted, it was clear that he wanted to get me angry too.

Hoseok and I share a complicated relationship. He pushes, I pull. We’ve been at odds with each other since we met in ninth grade Algebra, as he was cocky since he knew he was the best looking boy in our grade. However, I never succumbed to his charms. I knew he was good looking, obviously, but he had a rotten attitude.

We became something like friends, since he was newly single and looking for a new girlfriend, and he naturally attached himself to me. Things were steady for a while but it changed after my 18th birthday. He had a girlfriend at the time and he opted to ditch my birthday party for her.

The next day when I went back to school, I confronted him and poured my heart out to him. He ended the conversation, telling me his true feelings,

“I would’ve come but I wasn’t free! We would’ve had a blast together.” He looked visibly hurt and I could feel my face burning up. I sighed, turning away from him and sitting down in my own desk as he continued staring at me with those ice-cold grey eyes.

He returned my attitude with his own sour mood, reverting back to his older, fuckboy self. I hated him passionately, saving my tears for another guy who deserved them. I started dating his best friend, ironically.

We had to force a mutual tolerance for each other, he had to grimace as I greeted him “hello” every day at lunch and whenever he left, we made conversation. It went a little something like this:

“So how was your day?”

“You and I will never be friends.”

“I just asked you how you were doing, geez.” And then we would go back to our phones, pretending like nothing happened as Danny returned.

We broke up a little over a month ago but something definitely changed between me and Hoseok again. We hated each other, but with every eye roll and glare, there was tension.

I couldn’t believe it, but every time he yelled in my face, I got wet. I started thinking of him whenever I masturbated, his lips on my clit, or his cock rubbing against my thighs, and how warm he’d feel against my cold skin.

I never told him about my fantasies, instead channeling all my anger at him, till it reached him directly.

Currently, we were in gym class and we haven’t said a word to each other. He slipped a note into my hand, just as we were about to go change. I read in his messy handwriting “Meet me in the boys locker room after everyone leaves.”

I waited, making sure there were no teachers or students in the proximity before sneaking into the boys locker room through the unlocked connected door that the teachers seemingly forgot to lock.

When I slipped into the room, Hoseok was half naked, wearing only his pants as he smirked in my direction. I grit my teeth seeing his cocky grin and wanting to slap him silly but also wanting to kiss those soft lips and run my fingers through his hair. The connection between us was an unexplainable one. I was angry at him, but at the same time I wanted to get railed by him.

“What do you want?” I hiss, as he backs me into a locker.

“Why do you think I asked you to meet me alone?”

“I don’t know...” He grunts, caging me against a wall as I suck in a deep breath, trying to control my wild heartbeat.

“Don’t play coy with me, missy.” I let out a sigh, rolling my eyes at him.

“You don’t scare me.”

“I was just gonna apologize.”

“For what?” When I turned back to look at him, he was inches away from me, his lips above mine. They were juicy and plump and I know I couldn’t resist any longer.

“For this,” He gives me the satisfaction of feeling those lips, his breath fanning across my face as the lights suddenly went out in the room and we were left in darkness. “Damn motion sensors. Now come on, let me take you home.” Normally I’d argue with him but I was too tired to put up a fight this time. Luckily since gym was the last class of the day, I could go straight home to shower. The school shower rooms would require me to shower and change all at the same time but going home would mean only showering and changing then taking a nap without worrying about classes afterwards.

“We’re here.” When I open my eyes after five minutes, Hoseok has pulled up in front of my house.

I thank him curtly before walking back home with my head hung low. What’s wrong with me? He waits for me to go inside before pulling back out the driveway and retreating to his own home.

As I laid in my bed recounting the days events, I wondered what the hell I was thinking, kissing him like that.

I touched my lips again, feeling the familiar warmth arise in my chest as I take in a deep breath. I pull the covers over me and I decided to sleep on it.

The next day isn’t much better. Hoseok hasn’t said a word to me and I haven’t really talked to him either. I finally swallowed my pride during lunch, approaching him with a heavy heart.

“You know, it’s funny that we...yesterday...” Suddenly I can’t seem to find the words after looking into his deep grey eyes. He looks a lot more different today.

“Can we forget about it? I screwed up,” He sighs as I lean against the window next to me, watching him curiously as he turns to me with a red apple in hand. “I only asked you to meet me yesterday so we could talk about the elephant in the room.”

“Which might be...?” I urge him to continue but he just grunted before kicking the wall behind him and avoiding my gaze once more.

“Just drop it.” I step in front of him, blocking him from running away. He looked up at me with those same eyes which get me every time, and all was lost again.

“Tell me, what did you really want to talk to me about?” He clenched his jaw, leaning in close, lips only millimeters away from my mouth.

“I want you.” I surprised myself by what I said next.

“Then come get me.” I walked away without saying much else, impressing myself with how bold I acted with Hoseok, my sworn enemy. Furthermore, was he seriously courting me? We hate each other. I don’t understand why he’s intent on getting into my pants. His hands probably don’t satisfy him anymore.

“What’s up with you?” One friend of mine asks as I walk back to the lunch table empty handed.

“Hoseok.” I reply with a small smile.

“I thought you guys weren’t friends anymore. What did he want?” She asks, not really prying but still interested enough to ask.

“Homework, or something like that.”

“Oh my god, speaking of homework, earlier this boy in my physics class said something sexist.”

“What did he say?” Judging by her tone, he really pissed her off.

“He said us girls are like homework, guys just do us.” I raise an eyebrow, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Wow, he said that?”

“Yeah. And he’s not just any guy, he’s a freshman, his name was Jungkook.” I slap a hand on my cheek in shock.

“The basketball player who got into the varsity team after trying out?”

“That’s the one.” She chatters on about how annoying he acts and then moves onto her boyfriend, Jin. He’s handsome, smart, and very charming. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s gay but he has dispelled the rumors himself. He was seen kissing a guy at a rave but he denied everything and said he was experimenting.

Jin is an interesting character, but even so he’s too good to be true. Much better than Hoseok, that’s for sure.

“Hey Y/N.” He makes his way over to me after his girlfriend leaves to go buy a parfait.

“Hi Jin.” I wave at him, not keeping my gaze on him any longer than I should. It would be highly inappropriate if I showed more interest in my friend’s boyfriend, especially since he was a known player.

“So I was planning on throwing a little after party for the team this weekend, and I was wondering if you would come?” I shrug as his lips curl up into an attractive smile. My heart is racing at the speed of light, but I didn’t want to lose my cool in front of him just yet.

“What’s in it for me?”

“I could introduce you to some of my friends. You’re a pretty girl, and I’m sure you get asked out all the time. It’s a shame you’re single, though.” I cross my arms as he flatters me, sitting on the edge of my seat as this gut feeling tells me to run away. I don’t want to run, there is nothing threatening about Jin in the slightest. I’m just intimidated.

“Okay, sure.” So maybe things didn’t go as planned. If things go well enough at the party, on the upside I could end up meeting the love of my life.

“I’ll ask Bae to send you the details.”

“Hey.” He stands in front of me, sweat dripping off his forehead as he dabs his face with a towel.

“Hey yourself.” I give Hoseok a forced smile before walking over to the cooler to refill my water bottle.

“Spring ended pretty quickly, didn’t it?” He tries to keep the conversation going but I’m too focused on the game to care.

“I guess. Oh, the other team made it!”

“You like basketball?” He scans the boys first before turning back to me.

“It’s fun. What’s it to you? Aren’t you supposed to be running track?”

“I am, well I was. It started raining outside and coach made us run laps around the gym section. Yep, I ran 103 laps.” I smirk, pulling his towel off his shoulder.

“You might want to get back in there. I can already hear the coach screaming for you to get back to the upper gym.” His nose scrunches up as he looks at his watch in disdain.

“Oh shit, I was supposed to be there like 5 minutes ago. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Bye.” I wave him off, tossing the towel into the nearest laundry bin I could find.

After the basketball team wins with a solid 21 points in the lead, we all head down to Jin’s house to celebrate. It felt awkward at first, since I was invited by Jin but he was hanging out with his girlfriend the entire time and I was third wheeling, but by the time I had the fourth drink, it was perfect.

Jin’s hand is on my shoulder as I tell him things that people with only crude humor understand, and while Bae was busy in the bathroom, I got introduced to Jungkook, the star player and his equally bitchy girlfriend, Raini.

“Hey guys, it’s been a long day but I think we ought to play some 7 minutes in heaven, don’t you think?” I hold up my coke can as one of the players makes a suggestion.

“Wait, aren’t some of you guys in relationships?” Raini and Bae have similar reactions, as they step forward out of the small crowd of people, sitting by my side while stroking my hair (and making me uncomfortable if I might add) and complimenting my lip tint.

“We’re both in open relationships, me and my boyfriend are like this so we won’t let anything like sex get in the way of our romance.” I scratch my head as Raini puts her fingers together, not really reassuring me since her nails were longer than my legs and she clearly didn’t give a fuck about who her boyfriend was sticking his cock inside.

“I’m not in a relationship, but I do know that if I was it would probably be closed.” I lunge forward, catapulting myself off the couch as I try running anywhere they aren’t. These girls are intimidating, they aren��t ashamed of their sexual ambitions and they were open to anything. Whereas, I wouldn’t be caught dead with a boy in bed. Sex makes me flustered, what can I say?

“Hey, where are you going cutie? The party’s barely started.” Jungkook suddenly had his arms around me, his body stinking of cologne and sweat. I expected a citrus scent from him since that’s what all the girls who slept with him said but instead I was met with a nasty odor that clogged up my nose.

“Jungkook, stop being such a dick. Can’t you see she doesn’t want to hang out with you?” When I met eyes with Hoseok again, I knew I couldn’t let him go again. I need to have him at my fingertips, preferably under me because I wanted to take control. I want to do to him what he did to me.

“Oh sorry man, didn’t know she was your girl. I was under the impression that you two hated each other,” Jungkook stares straight ahead, searching his eyes for an answer. When Hoseok grips my hand and I don’t say a word, Jungkook backs away. “Alright, be that way. Just don’t come bitchin’ to me when she messes up your shit again.” Jungkook pushed past Hoseok as I stood behind him, pondering what he could have possibly meant by me “messing his shit up.” He might have liked me in the past. Just when I thought I had him all figured out, he goes and pulls this on me.

“Hoseok, wait,” I stop him before he tries walking away. “What did Jungkook mean?”

“I don’t have time for this.” He sighs, trying to push past me as I block the way again.

“Please tell me the truth.”

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” My heart stops when he closes in on me, kissing me softly as I sigh into his lips.

“That’s all, isn’t it? Tell me, do you feel the same way I do?” I ask as we break the kiss.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He gives me a heart-shaped smile, pulling me into an empty bedroom. He kissed me with more passion this time, his lips practically glued to mine as he pushed me down on the bed. He crawls over me, trapping my body with his. I want this. I feel every fiber of my being heat up with lust, all because of him. Why does he have to be so freaking sexy? “Are you sure about this?” He asks as I pull off my top and kick off my pants. Lips parted as he stared at me in awe, he waited for me to answer. He already had his shirt off, so I had trouble concentrating on what he had to say because he looked yummy.

“Yes.” I pull him down on top of me for a kiss, gasping a bit from the bone crushing weight of his torso as he rests his body on mine momentarily.

“Sorry, almost blacked out there for a second.” He smirks at me as I shake my head.

“It’s no problem, princess.” He nips my lower lip slightly before moving down to my neck, leaving kisses as he tosses my bra aside.

“Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” I smacked my lips together, giggling as my lip gloss was smeared all over his face from our sloppy kisses. I feel a string of saliva dribble down my chin as he unbuckles his pants.

“Can I suck you off first?” I feel shy all of a sudden, and considering that I was more naked than he was at the moment, it doesn’t really add up.

“Of course, sweetheart,” His eyes wander down my figure as I crawl to the edge of the bed, blushing as I see his hard-on. “Now don’t go getting all shy on me, babe. Why don’t you start by opening your mouth and you can suck the tip first?” The tip, right. I was completely inexperienced with anything sex-related. Hoseok gently caressed my hair, sucking in a breath as I brought my lips down and closed my mouth around his shaft, slowly falling into a rhythm as he parts his lips, rocking his hips forward, now thrusting his hard cock into my mouth every once in a while, the head twitching and jerking with Hoseok’s spasms.

“Shit,” He groans, watching me as I gag a bit on his dick. My ear throat burns but an overwhelming feeling of lust clouds my vision. I made him weak. “You’re so good at this, baby,” I continue sucking his cock, taking him deeper in my mouth once I get the hang of it. I was bobbing my head up and down in a repetitive motion, watching him with wondrous eyes as he releases the most delicious noises. I feel more dominant, reducing the Hoseok Jung into nothing more but a moaning mess of pleasure. “Move further down, the base...ahhhh that’s more like it.”

“Are you cumming?” I giggle as he rolls his hips forward, feeling my head between his legs as gently as possible.

“If you keep at it, yeah. I will.”

“In my mouth?” His jaw drops open as I pout, looking up at him with a twinkle of mischief in my eyes.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I just thought—”

“I was kidding. But I’m not a fan of the taste.” I smack my lips, managing to swallow a bit of the residue.

“Same here. I think cum tastes disgusting but eating pussy is what I’m best at.” I raise a brow at him as he starts bragging about his skill. There he goes again, gloating about something in my face as we’re in the middle of a moment. It’s ridiculous, he just won’t stop being annoying. So, I decided to amp up my game. Feeling the lightbulb go off above my head, I look up at him as his dick goes limp in my hands.

“Quiet. Why don’t you do something useful with your mouth for once in your life and just get on your knees, bitch?” He winced, giving me that look most boys give me when I’ve said something outrageous. I might have gone overboard with calling him a bitch, but as far as insults go, it’s not my worst.

“Whoa, you could’ve said it nicely. If you wanna get eaten out, all you gotta do is ask, baby.” I smirk, pushing my thighs together as Hoseok reaches down to grab my throbbing clit.

“Don’t call me “baby.” I’m not yours, I’m my own person,” He yanks his hand free, staring at my clear fluids coating his fingertips as I cross my legs. “I guess the toy became the player. Come here.”

“What’s up with you?” Hoseok asks as he crawls between my legs.

“I was just trying something but I didn’t like it. Got me feeling tight.” Hoseok lets out a chuckle as I tell him what was bugging me earlier.

“That’s a good feeling. It means you’re enjoying yourself.”

“No, it’s not. I called you a bitch and disrespected you by calling you a player. I’m sorry that I’m like this.”

“Hey, what’s gotten into you?” His soft voice makes my heart flutter. He’s speaking to me in such a soothing voice and with a buttery tone that just makes me want to suck his cock all day. Damn, I’m horny.

“I just want this to be perfect, for both of us.”

“It’s already perfect.” He kisses the back of my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine after. Our palms were sweaty and sticky, and my breath smells nasty. I should have brought some gum.

“Please continue. I won’t stop you,” We share a smile as Hoseok brings his tongue down to lick my clit, finally reaching my bud as he kisses my pussy with the utmost care. He makes sure not to accidentally bite me, his lips massaging my heat as pleasure overtakes me and I feel a strange sensation like I’m about to explode. But it’s not like peeing, it just feels very good.

“Hoseok!” I call out his name once as he slurps me up with his pink tongue, now with his lips barely even grazing the surface, as his tongue does most of the work, from the inside. I can feel him, my nipples hardened the moment his mouth touched my pussy. I felt close. Whatever that meant. When I started tensing up, instead of stopping me, he started rubbing his nose against my pussy, thrusting his slick tongue into me at a quick pace. “I’m gonna cum!” I cry as his tongue dances across my labia, and I gasp out of shock and relief after the cum spews all over his face.

A knock on the door interrupts us as Hoseok pulls away from my wet heat and he gets up, sighing as I cover myself with the blankets, still recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm.

“You can’t be up here. I get that you’re trying to enjoy the moment but my sheets are new and I’d rather not put them in the laundry right away.”

“I didn’t think you’d kill the mood so quickly, Jin,” Hoseok seems to have a silent stare down with the boy as he stands at the doorway, peering into the room with prying eyes. “I’ll be back.” Hoseok tells me, shutting the door and stepping out in nothing but his boxers.

It was getting cold, without his warmth and pleasurable tongue disappearing between my folds once again as promised.

“What took you so long?” I ask when he finally comes back after 10 minutes.

“Sorry. Just needed to sort some stuff out with the boys.”

“What?”

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter now. Jin said he’s okay with us doing it on his bed.”

“Well now I just feel bad. Come on, at least fuck me on the rug.” Hoseok smirks as I lower my ass to the ground, leaning forward as he gets behind me.

“If you’re sure about this…”

“What are you talking about? My ass is literally—Oh, OH.” I choke back my tears as he splits my pussy in half. I felt an excruciating pain first before I was wet enough to the point where he could slide right in.

“Fuck yes.” Hoseok’s sloppy thrusts get smoother over time as I loosen up, it feels more amazing as he fucks me harshly, his testes slapping against my ass and all. I felt my core clench all of a sudden, and an all-too familiar feeling creeping up on me again.

“Hobi…”

“I know, baby.” He gropes my boobs as he kisses my neck, sliding his warm hands down my entire body as I bounce back on his dick from an odd angle. He was currently holding my arms back, like reigns as I used gravity to propel myself back on his dick and he pushed his body forward to collide with mine. Our skin made a hard clapping sound, like how skin sounds when you smack it really hard or something.

“I’m a little sore now, fuck my life.” I curse as the back of my thighs clench from being smacked against Hoseok’s toned ones. This man has some rock hard muscles.

“That’s a little ironic, considering that I’m actually fucking you right now.”

“Hoseok, I’m actually in pain, can't you just help me out just this once?” He sighs, pulling out of me as I moan from the sudden loss of his dick. Who knew I was such a whore for cock?

“Get on the bed.”

⚠️

When I saw him for the first time after our lustful tousle in Jin’s bedroom, he evaded my gaze. I took things in my own hands by texting him to meet me in the locker room after everyone left. I had my doubts at first, but after I heard the heavy footsteps, I felt reassured.

Hoseok was avoiding me.

“What’s your deal?” I ask as he rubs his neck, sweat dripping down his forehead despite him having showered and smelling daisy fresh.

“I dunno.” He avoids my gaze again, and finally losing my last nerve, I slam him against the lockers, just like he did to me when we were first in here.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Hoseok. I don’t appreciate when guys fuck me and then leave me hanging the next day at school. We’re friends, right? What’s got you so shaken up?”

“It’s the...agreement I made with Jin.” I keep my arms on either side of him as he gulps anxiously, his Adam’s apple shining as he swallows his saliva.

“What’s the agreement about?”

“He asked me...for a turn.” I back away from him, dropping my arm back to my side.

“So you agreed to pimp me out just to fuck me in Jin’s bed?”

“No, I was gonna take it back but he said that I can’t go back on my word or he would tell everyone that we were..” Hoseok sounded ashamed. He didn’t want any rumors of us and the worst part is that he didn’t even tell me about this stupid deal.

“You know what, this isn’t your problem anymore.”

“What?” He asks as I pick up my bag.

“If you’re embarrassed of me I’ll just go fuck your friends. At least they aren’t afraid of a little pussy.”

“I’m not afraid! And how are you gonna do that? You were extremely shy with me.” He folds his arms, expecting me to run back to him. But I won’t give him the satisfaction, oh no. I’m going to do as I said and fuck Jin. Bae said she was in an open relationship with him anyways, so it doesn’t matter.

“Watch me. You’re totally invited, but I won’t be sucking your dick along with theirs.” I leave him alone in the locker room, taking a pack of gum with me before meeting up with Jin.

“Hey you, I just wanted you to meet the boys before we got started. And in case you want to see any tests we’re all clean and everything is back at Jungkook’s place. His parents own this cool pool house which is five times bigger than my entire house and you’ve been there before so it’s safe to say that you’ll be in good hands.” Jin puts an arm around my shoulder as we walk out to his car.

“Will Hoseok be there too?”

“Yep, and just so he doesn’t break the no-touching rule, we’re tying his arms behind his back and only letting him out to use the bathroom and stroke his dick. It’s gonna be painful!”

“Sweet. What about the ceiling silks, and rope bounds, gag balls?” I ask.

“Whoa, slow down. We’re not going full BDSM, just some aspects,” I raise an eyebrow at Jin. “Not in front of the whole school, freaky nerd girl.”

“Could a nerd do this in public?” I place my leg strategically between his legs, resting it on his hardening cock as he groans, blushing a bright red as students passing by whisper and laugh at him as he nearly cums in his pants.

“Okay, release, release! Sorry for calling you a nerd. You’re actually pretty cool, Princess.” I giggle, surprising him with my boldness as I did something so rash in public. After having sex with Hoseok, it’s safe to say that I’m a changed woman.

“Hey!” I say in a warning tone. “Call me that again.” He smirks at me with a familiar look on his face. As we walked off together, Hoseok watched us and when he thought I wasn’t watching, Jin gave him the middle finger. Looks like I stumbled into the middle of something I wasn’t supposed to know about.

End Note: Read second part here

#hoseok x reader #fuckboy hobi #Smut #bts #bts hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok fanfic #jhope x reader #jhopeff #bts fanfiction #hoseok imagine #seokjin #jin #jungkook #bts jhope

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obxlife · 5 years ago

Text

One Thing Right (Rafe x Reader)

A/N: Okay so first of all, I love Rafe. I think he’s one of the best and most complicated characters by faaaar. So I was going to write a Rafe fic eventually, but I received a message that made me say Fuck it and start writing right away. Also, I decided to use the lyrics of the song One Thing Right (Marshmello & Kane Brown) to write this soooo yeah.

Pairing: Rafe x Reader

Request: literally anything Rafe I will read it (not really a request but this is the exact message I got that made me want to write a Rafe fic)

Summary: Mainly about your relationship with Rafe and its dynamic.

Warnings: Drug use, sex, fighting, mentions of murder, swearing

ONE THING RIGHT

I’ve cheated and I’ve lied

I’ve broken down and I’ve cried

I've got nothing to hide no more

You walked into the Cameron’s house expecting to see Rafe waiting for you on the stairs as he usually did. You had been dating for over a year, and every time Rafe would send you a message asking you to hang out, he would wait on his stairs until you arrived.

However, this time he wasn’t there.

You could also hear muffled screams coming from the upper floors of the house, and as you walked up, you realized they came from Ward’s office.

“What are you even doing with your life, Rafe?” you heard him scream at your boyfriend. “Where are the generators? Huh?”

You couldn’t hear Rafe’s replies, so you left the office door behind and turned towards his room. Once inside, you sat upon his king-sized bed waiting for his arrival.

Only a couple of minutes later did he walk in. There were tears brimming his lash line, and he froze once he saw you.

“I forgot you were coming over,” he said, wiping his eyes on the back of his hands.

“Yeah, I guessed as much,” you replied. “What was all the screaming about?”

“Just drop it, Y/N,” he tried to brush it off.

This had been occurring for a while now, where you asked Rafe a question and he would try to avoid responding. Sometimes he would just ignore it.

“You can tell me,” you whispered to him as he lay down beside you and rubbed a hand on your thigh.

Rafe simply sighed, closing his eyes and turning away. Was he really shutting you out? Not once before had there been a secret between the both of you, and now he wasn’t even talking to you.

Pissed off, you stood from the bed and grabbed your bag. You approached the door, but right before you touched the handle, you heard a sob come from Rafe’s lips.

Instantly, you turned back towards him. You sat down on the mattress as softly as you could and brought out an arm to rub circles around his back.

You stayed like this for a little while longer, until he sat up and turned towards you. He hugged you tighter than he had ever hugged anybody before. He could feel you whispering sweet nothings in his ear but he couldn’t make out a single word you said.

All of a sudden he said, “I’ve been doing cocaine for a month.”

Your movements stopped. “What?”

Rafe pulled away, feeling how tense you were, and tried to explain himself.

“I - I tried it a couple of weeks ago, and then I just couldn’t stop. Everything feels so fucking good when I’m high. I don’t worry about my dad or Sarah or Wheezie or anyone and I feel free. I feel no pressure from anyone.”

“What do you mean you’ve been doing cocaine?” you asked, still in complete shock.

“I - I - I just went to the Cut this one time. And I met Barry. He gives me it as long as I sell it. But I haven’t been able to sell as much as I planned, so I gave him the money I had saved. And that way I could still keep buying it.”

“Why would you do that?”

“It makes me feel free. B - but now, I have no money, and I owe Barry, and I owe my dad some generators, and - fuck. I just don’t know what to do. Y/N, I need you to help me, please.”

Anger took over you. “Help you get off of the fucking drug you’re using or help you pay back the money you owe so you can keep buying that shit?”

Rafe stuttered. “B - b - both.”

He stared at you in a pleading manner, but you were still angry at him. “Rafe, I swear to God, if you’re lying to me and you only want to pay the money back so you can buy more fucking drugs I -”

“I won’t,” he promised, cutting you off. “I just need to get back on my feet.”

You sighed, feeling sorry for him. You couldn’t just not help him. He was the love of your life, and he needed you.

“If you are lying, Rafe, I’m going to be so angry,” you made clear as you took his hands in yours to show that you would help him.

“I’m not, I’m not,” he assured. “I have nothing to hide from you anymore.”

I've loved and I've hurt

Broken people down with words

More grace than I deserved, for sure

“What the actual fuck, Rafe?” you asked him as you held onto the small bag filled with white powder. “You said you were going to stop.”

Rafe groaned as he heard your screams. “I know, I know. This is just a small fallback, babe.”

“Small fallback, my ass,” you continued to scream. “What are you going to do when all of your money goes down the drain because of this stuff?”

“Y/N, I’m telling you. It was just a fallback. I swear this won't happen again.”

You scoffed. This made his anger rise. “Yeah, right.”

Your sarcasm was not helping Rafe feel better about himself, and he was pissed that you, the one person he felt was supposed to support him no matter what, were angry at him.

“Just shut the fuck up, okay?” he suddenly exploded. You immediately fell quiet. “I’m fucking trying to get my shit together, okay? So stop being a bitch about it and shut up!”

You felt as if all the wind inside of your body had been knocked out of you from a punch. You felt your heart break softly as you tried to forget what Rafe had just called you.

Realization hit him once he saw the empty look and your eyes and the tears about to fall. He felt guilty as he attempted to take your hands in his. You pulled away.

“Baby, I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean that. At all,” he tried to reassure you. “I was just mad at myself for having done drugs again. It isn’t you, okay?”

You believed him. You truly did. So ignoring the pain in your chest you put your hands in his. “Okay.”

“I promise,” he began, “to never do this again. I’m sorry I hurt you. Can you forgive me?”

Trying to smile at him, you felt a tear escape your eye. He brushed his thumb against your cheek to wipe it away.

“Yeah.”

Rafe, noticing that you were letting him touch you again, pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back and whispering into your ear: “You are so much more than I deserve.”

You stayed still but mentally nodded along with him. You were more than he deserved, but he would eventually become someone that deserved you with your help.

Known to be crazy, known to be wild

Mama had to suffer a little devilish child

Ain't no stranger to the troubles at my door

The party surrounding you was in full swing.

You were sipping from a cup and you looked around at the rest of the Kooks, smiling and laughing. Their expensive clothes were similar to yours, and you tried to count all of the Rolex watches you sighted. You quickly lost count due to the fact that there were too many.

Music was coming out from the speakers but instead of dancing, you stood to the side. You were sipping on a red solo cup filled with beer when you felt two strong hands circle your waist.

“Hey, baby,” Rafe said into your ear. You smiled and turned towards him so you were chest to chest.

“Hey.”

You looked over his shoulder and noticed all of his friends were accompanying him. You smiled at them as if to say hello.

Suddenly the song changed and you recognized it as Rafe’s favorite. Gasping he turned towards his friends and began belting it out with them, all the while still latching onto your hand.

You smiled as they became goofier with their actions as the song continued, and noticed that you hadn’t seen him smile like that in a while.

Soon enough he was drunk and was pulling you on top of a table to dance around with him. He was the life of the party, boisterous and outgoing, and he pulled you along with him. You laughed and danced and followed his lead in regards to every single idea he had that night. From jumping from Topper’s roof into his pool, to sneaking into Topper’s parent’s room, and to smoking some weed.

You had been drinking the whole night and excused yourself to go to the bathroom. As you went in you heard some girls gossiping about someone bringing coke to the party. At this, your ears perked up. However, they never mentioned who had brought it.

You exited the bathroom and began to look for your boyfriend, but he was nowhere to be found. You began to grow frustrated and angry. You just wanted to make sure it wasn’t Rafe consuming the drugs.

Finally, around an hour later, you found him. He was seated around a table that clearly had some traces of the white powder you hated. He was surrounded by his friends and a couple of random people, but when he caught your eyes he smiled.

He walked towards you. “Hey, where were you?”

“In the bathroom,” you replied, trying to look into his eyes.

“I missed you,” the blond said, smiling at you. Finally, you managed to look into his eyes. Fuck. His pupils were dilated. He had definitely done more than a line tonight.

You wanted to get mad, but you couldn’t. The one thing you had noticed about him tonight was that he had been extremely happy. You decided you would let it go for now. You couldn’t bear to break the smile he had right now on his face.

I've been at the wrong place at the wrong time

Chasin' all the wrong things most of my life

Been every kinda lost that you can't find

Rafe was pounding into you as you both panted.

You had been alone in your house when you decided to invite him over, and things had quickly escalated.

When you were both done he pulled out and lay next to you. You were still panting and relishing on what the feeling of him inside you had felt like when you turned towards him and pushed yourself onto his chest.

You snuggled into him, ready to fall asleep. Your arms went around him, causing you to feel the hills and valleys of his muscles that covered his abdomen.

You sighed happily.

However, Rafe was not wrapping his hand around you and instead was reaching for his phone. Barry had sent him some messages.

“Babe,” he said while trying to softly push you off of him. “I need to go.”

You frowned. “Why? I thought you said you weren’t busy.”

Fuck, Rafe thought. “Um, yeah. But Topper said he needed my help with something.”

He was lying, of course, But you believed him, pouting to show how displeased you were with him. He just laughed as he pulled his pants on.

“I promise next time we’re gonna cuddle for a really long time,” he said, leaning down to kiss your lips softly.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, “but I’m going to remember your promise about next time.”

Rafe laughed again and leaned down one more time to kiss you before exiting your room. A few seconds later you heard your front door close.

You decided to shower as you felt icky all over from your previous activities with your boyfriend. Prodding into the bathroom, you turned the water on and hopped in. You scrubbed your skin and washed your hair before cutting the drain and stepping out into the steamy bathroom.

Right when you were done getting dressed your phone rang.

“Hello?” you said, picking up the call without looking at the caller.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Top.”

Why was Topper calling you? “Um, hey. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he assured, “I was just calling because I can’t reach Rafe. He with you?”

You were shocked. Rafe had lied to you? Where the fuck was he?

Then, everything seemed to click. He was probably at Barry’s.

“Um, no,” you answered Topper. “Sorry.”

Topper sighed. “It’s fine. Well, anyway, talk to you later.”

Once he hung up the phone you pulled up to your text messages with Rafe.

You: Where are you?

You: And don’t lie. I know you aren’t with Topper. He called me.

You waited for his reply. However, nothing came back. He had left you on read.

You fucking knew it. He was with Barry. Again.

Been the kind of guy girl's mamas don't like

Runnin' with the wrong crowd on the wrong nights

'Cause I've been wrong about a million times

But I got one thing right, you

Rafe was sobbing into your chest. You were in shock, one hand in his hair and the other on his back, but both unmoving.

Rafe had killed Sheriff Peterkin. He had really done it. You couldn't believe that your boyfriend was a killer.

His arms tightened around you as he kept on sobbing and you were brought back to reality.

“Oh my God,” you said as you tried to push him away. “Please tell me your lying or that this is some sick, twisted joke.”

You finally pushed him off of you. He tried to mask the hurt in his eyes that he felt from you distancing yourself but he failed.

“Why would I lie?” he asked looking down at his hands. They were trembling.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck fuck.”

“But, baby, it was an accident, okay?” he tried to convince himself as well as you. “It wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t want that to happen.”

You believed him. That was what baffled you the most. You always believed whatever he said. However, you shook your head. “N - no, Rafe. You killed her.”

“Don’t say that!” he screamed. “I didn’t do that!”

You were shocked but not scared. He wouldn’t hurt you, you knew. But you also knew that you couldn't just let him know that you believed him. You had to know if he was sorry, and you had to find a way for him to change.

You curled up into a ball trying to get away from him. Your back was pressed so deep into his wall you were afraid you might fall right through it. This was all an act.

You needed to convince him to change. You had to make him believe you wanted to leave., So you shoved yourself up and turned towards the door, but found it was suddenly blocked by Rafe’s body.

“Please,” he began to beg. “I - I know I’m broken. And that I’ve done a lot of things wrong. But please, don't leave me.”

Your heart clenched for you to stay. Your mind, however, wasn’t sure it was the right timing to go back to him. He had to know this was his last chance.

“Rafe,” you sighed. “You’re going to have to prove yourself to win one last chance.”

Rafe smiled and fell to his knees. He began to beg and to plead so much for you to stay that you actually could feel your heartbreaking.

“Look,” he began, “I know I've done almost everything wrong in my life, okay? I know that. But I also know that you are the one fucking thing that I got right. And I can’t live without you.”

You sighed, knowing that no matter what Rafe did, he would just have to sweet talk you for you to stay by his side.

“Stand up,” you said defeatedly. “This is your last chance. I know I always say that but this time I really mean it.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“Do you, Rafe?” you questioned. “All you have to prove to me is that you don’t want me to be the only right thing in your life.”

“Okay,” he said. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good,” you said, sighing in relief. “Because I really love you and it would kill me to have to break up with you.”

He smiled at that, wiping his tears away. “I love you, too, Y/N.”

#outer banks #obx #obx netfix #rafe cameron #drew starkey

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raybidtickles · 4 years ago

Text

Trapped

I decided to start writing again and like how I’m redrawing the tickletober prompts, I’m gonna be writing out some of the prompts until I get back into the swing of writing more.

Summary: Collin gets into more trouble than he anticipates when he gets left behind by his friends, and meets new ones in the process!

Collin could not believe his friends ditched him.

Well, no. Collin could definitely believe his friends ditched him. Never on purpose, but they had the habit of getting out of hand and out of sight quickly. Galen and Jaritri were magnets for trouble. If trouble didn’t find them, then they went out looking for it. Collin, who was convinced he was the only voice of reason at this point, always struggled to keep up. Not that he necessarily wanted to help terrorize the local human population, but the satyr’s worry compelled him to follow anyways.

Now he was stuck in an unfamiliar part of the woods with no sense of direction where home was. There wasn’t any way this day could get worse-

Collin’s right leg was quickly ripped out from under him and he landed on the forest floor with solid thud. His right dangled high above his head from a rope.

"Oh, seriously?" An exasperated sigh escaped Collin as he tugged at the rope, only to secure the rope tighter around his ankle. Just his rotten luck. He needed to get out before whoever set the trap got back. The last thing Collim wanted was the attention of whoever set the trap. Collin stretched upward, the knot of the rope only inches from his finger tips. The satyr fell back onto the ground in a huff, regretting the decision to not carry around the knife Gelasia gave him. Collin backed himself up on the grassy ground and yanked. He pushed against the rope around his ankle with his free hoof. If he could just loosen the knot just enough.

"If we didn't get anything this time I'm gonna be pissed." Collin's ears twitched at the sound of voices approaching. The sound of snapping twigs followed and Collin's heart raced to his throat. He wanted to frantically tug and flail to get his leg out of the trap, but his entire body locked into place. His eyes the only part of him able to move, frantically darting across his field of vision.

"Ah, calm down. Don't blame nature because you suck at hu-" Three figures emerged from the brush directly in front of them. Two tall and identical looking fellows along with a shorter man with black, spiky hair. The left twin's voice died the moment the group's gaze turned to Collin.

"Well, you sure caught something." The right twin commented, a confused, but none the less amused smile etched across his features. The smallest of the group huffed in exasperation that reminded Collin far too much of Galen.

"Oh, well this is just perfect!" A heated blush rushed to his cheeks as he glanced between his hunting partners gesturing at Collin's predicament. "Yeah, yeah of course this is what happens. If it's not just a completely empty trap it's this." One of the twins quickly grabbed the back of his cloak's hood and pulled it over to eyes. The short loudmouth yeld and swat at his hands in a struggle to obscure his vision.

"Bix, buddy. I don't think our fair friend over here appreciates being referred to as this." The second twin shoved his head down further as he smiled down at Collin.

"Heeeeey, sorry bout all this uh…" The duo leaned on their smaller friend's head and shoulders, attempting to keep him quiet and down. "...we aren't normally like this we swear." The fear that gripped Collin's chest slowly dissipated. He knew humans could be eccentric, but didn't realize they'd also be giant nerds.

"It's uh...no trouble really?" Collin bit back a smile at the ongoing struggle. He gaze glanced up to his still trapped hoof and he tugged tentatively on more. "Do you think you could…?" Collin's question came out just above a whisper when he pointed up.

"Ah. Right. That." The twins let 'Bix' go, causing the man to nearly trip over himself in a struggle that suddenly stopped. One of the twins rummaged around their bag as they approached. He retrieved a small hunting knife from the bag and flashed Collin a confident smile and wink. "We'll get you out of there in a-"

"Hey, no! Caiden, dont you fucking dare!" Bix latched onto the arm Caiden held the knife with. Caiden immediately shook and yanked at his arm to throw him off. Collin had to give the angry little man props for the persistence.

"What?! What is your problem? We aren't keeping him that's messed up man!" An uncontrolled noise of offense escaped Bix's throat as he narrowed his eyes up at him.

"What-no! What's wrong with you? I can untie him, you don't have to cut the rope." Caiden raised a brow, his eyes lingering over his friend's scrunched up face to decipher if he was serious.

"It's just rope man. What's the big-"

"It's your last length of rope isn't it?" The other twin interrupted, fully enjoying the performance at that point. Bix's composure stiffened, his angry glare quickly turned down to the ground.

Yep. Bix definitely reminded Collin of Galen.

"...shut up shut up I didn't think it would be this bad today." Bix's face burnt bright red while the twins snickered.

"Alright, alright. You wanna try? I'll give ya a few minutes." Caiden finally shook Bix off and plopped the knife back into his satchel. "Aiden and I'll just wait until you admit you can't do it."

"Sorry, you're probably gonna be here for a while." Aiden chipped in, sticking his tongue out at Bix as he grumbled. Bix's glare reached down to Collin, a small shiver ran up his back. His glare softened a bit as he gripped around Collin's ankle.

"Don't listen to them. You'll be out of here in a second. Just stay still…" His thoughts seemed to trail off as his focused turned to the knot. Despite Bix's rough nature Collin could feel how nimble his fingers were. Each gentle brush against his ankle as Bix tried to loosen the knot sent a small ticklish jolt up his leg. Collin bit his lip and tried his best to keep his leg still. Each little twitch made Bix huff a bit out of his nose.

"Can you just sit for a second?" Bix grabbed Collin by the hoof, his thumb pressed slightly against the bottom. Collin couldn't help the startled yelp and twitches that followed.

"W-wahait! Don't press there please!" Collin yanked back, his free hoof digging into the ground to try and scoot away. The three hunters shared a quizitive look before Bix ran his thumb down the length of Collin's hoof. More giggles poured from the saytr, quiet objections went unheard.

"Awww, guys he's ticklish! That's so cute." Aiden cooed.

"On his hooves? How's that even possible?" Bix used both of his thumbs to rub into each toe of Collin's cloven foot.

"Ahahaha! Dohohohon't do that!" Collin's free leg flailed, just barely missing Bix's leg.

"Who cares?? It's adorable!" Collin was forced on his back when Aiden snatched up his other ankle. "Ohhhh I wanna see." Aiden tapped his finger nails across the edges of Collin's hoof. His laughter became punctuated by small shrieks as the constant drumming sent electric ticklish shocks up his leg.

"Plehehease ah-! Please stohop!" Collin set himself up on his elbows, one hand reached out in vain to stop the gentle yet relentless assault.

"How can you expect to stop? You're laugh is just adorable." Aiden teased further, a micheveous smirk tugged at the edges of his lips. He traced an index in circles around the soles of his hoof that made Collin shiver with goosebumps.

"Yeah, besides. Maybe this'll teach you to watch your step next time." Bix allowed himself to smile down at the saytr. Hr glanced down at his satchel, his smile turning to full grin as he reached inside. He pulled a small hand brush out, making a show of pulling it out slow.

"W-wait, what are you gonna-aH WAHAHAIT! NOHOHOH NOT THAHAHAT!" The most the brush connected with his hoof Collin's laugh raised several octaves. He flopped flat on his back, his arms crossed over his stomach as hysterical belly laughs were torn from him. Small tears pricked the edges of his eyes and a small, but distinct bleat cut between his laugh. Almost like a snort or hiccup. After a moment the tickling stopped and Collin was able to breath again. He twitched and shivered as the tingle could still be felt on his hooves. Collin wiped his eyes and glanced up at the hunters, both with faces three shades dark and hands covering their mouths.

"Ohhhh that was really cute." Aiden's voice was muffled by his hand, but Collin heard it plainly and felt heat raise to his own cheeks.

"Alright, that's enough you two." Cadien quickly brandished his knife and with a quick flick Collin's leg thumped to the ground. An annoyed outburst followed from Bix that went ignored. Caiden reached down and gently gripped Collin's upper arms and slowly pulled him upward. Collin's balance wavered slightly, but he managed to stand on his own.

"Sorry bout that. Still swear we aren't normally like this." Caiden chuckled and clapped Collin on the shoulder.

"O-oh, you're fine it was ah..." Collin glanced nervously around, his gaze landing to the grassy ground. "It was kinda fun actually."

"Oh reeeeeally?" Aiden slipped an arm around his brother's shoulder, a large grin plasterd on his face. "Maybe we should meet up again hm? I'm sure Bix would love to." Bix couldn't deny or agree simply for the fact he already slipped away into the underbrush. "...he'd love to I'm sure uhhh…"Aiden glanced him down expectantly."

"O-oh! Collin. If that's what you were asking." Collin crossed an arm over his chest and hesitantly held out his hand. Aiden slipped off Caiden and clapped his hand between both of his.

"Aiden! Though I'm sure you already heard that. You got an address Colli? Lemme send you a letter and maybe we can-ah!" Aiden was quickly tugged away by the back of the coller.

"Aid, I swear if you don't stop." He twirled his brother around and shoved him in the direction they came from. He glanced back at Collin with a small wave. "Sorry about...aaaaall of that. Do hope to see you again though cutie!" Caiden left Collin alone with butterflies floating around in his stomach.

...he needed to lost around here just a bit more often.

#tickling #tickle fiction #tickling fiction #tickle fic #collin #my ocs #my writing #bix #aiden #caiden

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