#not me getting distracted by pretty lights and shadows for half an hour

[starmocha]

I've been unpacking and cleaning my old books and manga for my new bookshelves and it's now golden hour and I just noticed the Zayne acrylic standee I have placed on the shelf is catching the light so prettily????? 🥹 The photos aren't doing it justice. I was planning on rearranging a lot of the shelves, but I think I'll leave Zayne there. I'm loving how he looks during this time of the day. 🥰

[LNDS standees are from Weishiart]

[mzzledmutt]

—PREPARE FOR TROUBLE

starring.ᐟ keigo takami x rumi usagiyama x tōya todoroki x reader

synopsis.ᐟ “prepare for trouble and make it double!” An innocent night of fun with your ill intentioned bestfriend ends in bumping and grinding with a heroic duo.

warnings.ᐟ SMUT, fem!reader, alcohol use, drug use (weed + coke), clubbing, one night stand, foursome (ffmm), public sex, unprotected vaginal + anal sex, cunnilingus, blowjobs, overstimulation, fingering, creampies, pegging, spit, spanking, slapping, hair pulling, biting, squirting, exhibitionism + voyeurism, feather play, temperature play, pet names (princess, doll, dove, honey, mommy + daddy) used

word count.ᐟ 10.6k words

m.mutt 𐂯 this is a refresh/rewrite of an older fic i have since deleted on tumblr! this fic is/has been cross posted on my ao3! i hope you enjoy!!

SWEATY bodies bump and grind against each other as loud music plays in the humid club. Girls sit in seats at the bar, flirting with sleazy men hoping to get a free drink and cash. Douchebags hit on everything they see with thighs and breasts as if they were chicken.

It made you feel gross.

Clubbing was definitely not your favorite activity in the world. The only reason you still sat in this place was due to a text you had gotten from your friend, an offer to save you from boredom under his own rules, of course.

On a night like this, you’d rather be sprawled across your bed. Masturbating to whatever degenerate porn you could find that caught your interest for longer than a minute.

You sat at your little table, tucked away at the back of the club, sipping on the half-empty drink in front of you. Your friend had run off to grab more drinks and hadn’t returned in a while. You were so tempted to flirt your way into another drink, stronger than whatever fruity concoction you had ordered the first time.

Come on now, it’s not like you didn't wear this dress for nothing. The way it hugged your skin and complimented your curves was sure to lure in anyone willing to spend their money on you.

It seems you’d have to resort to that soon considering a dark-haired demon, left on your own.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear though. After what felt like an hour, the familiar mop of black hair crosses your peripheral and slides into the seat across from you. “You left me, asshole.” You complain and he snickers, setting a drink in front of you.

“Sorry, princess.” A soft smile tugs on his scared lips, accented by his snake bites. “Got a little distracted.” He digs in his pocket, tongue poking from between his lips in concentration. You grab your plastic cup and sip the liquid from the little black straw.

“Oh, fuck.” You hiss at the taste, this was much stronger than your previous drink. “This is what I needed. Thank you, Dabi.” You smile sweetly at the man across from you as he sends a wink your way. “Anytime…there it is.” His hand is quickly pulled from his pocket. A rectangular tin, a lighter, and a small clear baggie are tossed onto the table.

“You wanna get fucked up, princess?” A sly smirk splays across his face in the dim club lighting.

Hesitantly, you crack open the tin seeing about seven blunts laid side by side, in the clear baggie was loose white powder. “It’s’ll I could grab, my plug is going out of town.” You continue to stare down at the items on the table as you sip. “You obviously don’t have to, but I’m definitely gonna do a line or two.” You weighed out your options, looking back up at him.

He looked pretty in the low lighting, the soft blue tones of the flashing lights illuminating the lower half of his face. Perfectly concealing him in mysterious shadows. Dabi was always pretty though, scarred flesh molded into an alluring figure.

You stop your meticulous studying of his face before focusing back on the substances before you.

You grab a blunt from the tin and pull it to your lips. “You mind?” Cerulean eyes light up and his smirk grows. “Anytime, doll.” The flame sparks on his index finger and he holds it out to you. You lean forward, lighting the end of the blunt and taking a few puffs while it is held tight between your lips. The smoke flows freely as you sit back and blow it out.

“‘S a new strain, tell me how ya’ like it.” Dabi lights his own, holding it between his teeth for just a moment. He takes his drags like a pro, watching as you relax into your seat after each puff. “I thought you were stayin’ relatively clean?” You bump the baggie on the table.

Dabi huffs a laugh, averting all eye contact he once held. “There’s no point anymore.” He says it as if it were the easiest thing in the world. You would’ve pressed but, it’s hard enough being the friend of a villain.

Making him regress into his shell wouldn't help.

“See anyone you like?” He’s changing the conversation. “Nope. Everyone’s boring.” You take another drag, blowing the smoke down onto the table. “I see what you mean, princess.” Dabi leans back in his chair, eyes scanning over the room. “Not even a bimbo to fuck for the night, this blows.” - “You wanted to come here!” You mention as he sounded so bored.

“For once this place is empty, full o’ normies.” He rolls his eyes. “Why do you typically come here?” You finally ask, leaning forward to hear him better.

“I used to meet my dealer here before he switched locations. Maybe find a piece o’ ass or two but tonight it’s dry.” Dabi downs the rest of his drink, setting the cup on the table.

“Didn’t a new club open like a few blocks away?” You lean down to sip your drink again. “Think so, but that’s one of those high-end places. Only pros and horny fans are gonna populate that joint.” He remarks, grabbing his cup and scowling at its emptiness.

“Fuck, I’m gettin’ a new drink.” He huffs, pushing off the table. “You want another, doll?” He quirks a brow as he towers over you. “Nah, I’m alright thank you.” Dabi shrugs and walks off.

You sat at the table, taking drags from your blunt and sipping your drink. At least the music in this place wasn’t bad. The DJ playing an upbeat RnB song. You sit by yourself for some time, gently swaying in your chair. The liquor and weed were hitting now.

Eyes slightly blurry as you dazed off into the distance, music flowing through your ears. You were on cloud nine, with no clue of how much time was passing. You snapped from your daze when your phone buzzed violently on the table.

Unlocking it, you open your messages and see Dabi texted you.

hey

heyyyy

read

doll

doing a line off this blonde assss

read

shits magical

read

you left for a drink??

sent

took a detour

read

You hadn’t even noticed he took the tin and the baggie. At least you still had your blun—your eyes trail over and notice it had burnt out a while ago.

“Damn it!”

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you rest your chin on your hand. He was going to be awhile. What was the point of ever dragging you to this club if he was going to go fuck some bitch and leave you lonely? You had no interest in flirting with any of the randoms who danced or sat by themselves.

You knew you had a few admirers here, they gawked and mumbled as you walked past but, with Dabi’s intimidating demeanor and your lack of interest, you knew they’d never show up.

You watch as a couple across from you make out. Hands in their hair, tongues down their throats, and their hips rocking against each other. You made a face of disgust, a festering jealousy broiling within you.

You debated leaving the club, catching a ride, and going home. It wasn’t often you got to hang out with Dabi but, if he were actually here and not spending his time elsewhere you wouldn’t be in this predicament.

There was no way home that wasn’t sketchy or incredibly inconvenient. So, you should grin and bear it. Fuck Dabi, his short attention span, and his high sex drive.

“What’s a sweet thing like you doing here all alone?” A hand grabs the back of your chair, grazing your skin. You flinch, turning quickly to see an older man with golden and silver teeth. He was nursing a cup in his unoccupied hand. “‘M not alone.” You pick your drink back up, needing to keep it close to your body.

“Oh, I know. I saw that jackass walk off with some pretty boy not too long ago.” The man circles your table, sitting in Dabi’s previous seat.

“So, he ain’t your boyfriend. He’s too busy chasing after the same tail.” The man laughs, loud and hearty. It made you uncomfortable so, you laughed awkwardly. Hoping Dabi would save you. “You smell good, baby. Like earthy and shit.” - “Weed.” You curtly mumble, pulling your cup back to your lips. “You’re smelling weed.” You take a long drink, hoping he would just get the hint and walk off.

“How about you dance for me, hmm?” You furrow your brows, looking at him as if he had three heads. “I’ve been here all night and haven’t seen ya’ dance. C’mon, sweetness.” He leaned forward, resting more on the table. You go to send him off before he pulls out a wad of cash.

Your reaction was very visible. Eyebrows pulled high, jaw slightly falling slack, and eyes wide. The man laughs at your reaction. “I can make it worth your while.” He offers, with a grungy smirk.

“Whatever you want.” You take the offer and stand.

Before you could move on to dancing, you finished off your drink knowing you’d need to be more intoxicated to do this. Your body sways with the music and your hands trace your figure. Mind hazy from the drugs and alcohol, eyes watching the other figures move in the dim lighting, only truly appearing when neon lights flickered over them.

The DJ changed the song to a more sensual new age song, appealing to the young adults and older clubgoers trying to stay relevant. Your hands run up your thighs, lifting the skirt to your black velvet dress, showing just a few centimeters below your panties. The man watches from the table, bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

You flash him a smile and scoop your breast from your dress, holding the soft mounds in your hands. You pull a nipple into your mouth, sucking on the bud before adjusting your appearance so no one else would see. If you were gonna put on a show for money, you were gonna do it right.

Your tipsy, fluid dancing was disrupted when a body pressed against yours. A smirk curls up on your lips as you begin to grind your ass into the figure behind you. With a quick swivel of your hips, you determine your partner is either a woman or a grower.

The hairs on your neck stand to a point as hot breath brushes against your smooth skin, making slight arousal begin to form in the deepest pits of your stomach.

The mysterious figure grabs your waist, pulling you taut against them. As your back collides with their chest you realize your intruder is a woman. “Hi, princess.” The woman’s husky voice sends tingles through your body and straight to your hot cunt. “Hey.” You replied, continuing to grind into the woman’s lower half.

“You look absolutely delectable, honey.” Her tongue seemed to whip at the top of your ear, leaving saliva to cool and send goosebumps down your arms. “You haven’t even seen my face,” You quip, reaching you and behind you to hold her neck.

“What if I’m a horrid creature.” A soft fan of breath hits your neck again as she laughs. “I’ve been watching you from afar for a while, princess.”

You noticed she was hiding you as you danced against her, your bodies concealed from the man watching you. Her hands softly rub at your hips, trailing to your ass whenever you’d lean over to throw it back. Pussy flooding with slick as you feel her hardly noticeable thrusts against you as you grind your ass against her.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” She asked words like the melody of a jealous love song. “He’s at home,”

You whispered, making the woman pull back a little. “He’s pink, silicone, and needs to be plugged in after I cum.” You laughed at her reaction. “Fuck,” She laughs. “You scared me, sweetness. Thought I was gonna have to beat a prick up tonight.” Your heart fluttered for a moment.

“You beat a man up for me? Already?” You were flattered, truly flattered a stranger would be so forward. “Honey, I know I’d do anything for you.”

Her words were thick and sweet, almost silencing your rampant mind from the question on the top of your tongue. Who is the stranger who decided to dance with you?

Reluctantly, you pull yourself away from the woman leaving your body tingling and begging for her warmth. You turn to face to view your mysterious female partner and your heart pounds faster.

Your eyes widen at the sigh of the tall woman. Hair as white as snow draped down her back matching the fluffy ears atop her head, a contrast to her deep, brown skin. The lilac two-piece she worse accentuated her vermillion eyes.

“Hi, honey bunch.” She bats her gorgeous lashes at you, clearly taking note of how you guffawed at her.

She looked so strong. Her torso was covered by a low-cut, spaghetti-strap top. Her thighs, lord her thighs, muscles bulged from the confines of her maxi skirt, the same color as her shirt. Her breasts nearly spilled from the top, muscles flexing from their cotton prison.

She was going to ruin you. “You okay? Am I losing you, honey?” Her hand comes up to cup your jaw, gently stroking one spot by your lips.

Her red-painted lips spoke words of honey and like a bee, you latched onto every word.

“‘M fine, you’re really pretty.” You compliment, your fingers coming up to play with the ends of her blazer. “Why thank you, love.” Her gaze was so intimidating, deep vermilion eyes boring into yours with lust. Your lust-filled grinding had stopped due to your admiration of the woman before, making you feel out of place from the other club-goers around you.

“I want you.” You murmur before pulling back from her. A tan, manicured hand reaches out quickly to grab your own, keeping you at arm’s length.

The woman watches in confusion as you shake your hand free and throw her a smirk.

You move into the light, trailing hands up and down your body as you sway. The song playing was sensual and slow.

Your eyes trace over the woman’s form as you dance by yourself, knowingly teasing and seducing her. Pearly white teeth sink into her red-painted bottom lip as she watches you lift your dress to flash your panties in the large crowd. Two fingers dip into your mouth, collecting saliva and trailing down your body. Your hips buck slightly as your fingers come into contact with your wet panties and your sensitive clit.

You gently caress your clit and softly moan.

Red eyes darkened with lust as she grabbed you again, pulling you by your hips and holding you close. “Oho, seems I’ve got myself a little slut, hmm?” She chided, staring down at you. “You’re fucking filthy, huh?”She seemed to moan, blown pupils concealing her blood-red gaze. “Did you like the show?” You ask, giving her your most innocent look and licking your lips.

“I loved the show, honey. I wanna see more. I wanna see your cunt drip with arousal and cum after I eat you out.” The woman’s mouth like velvet as she brushed her lips against yours. Shaky breath leaves you as her hand's cradle and squeeze your ass. “I never caught your name, princess.” Your arms come to rest upon her shoulders. “I never threw it,” You giggle, making her give a stern look.

“I’m ___, I like ‘Honey’ a lot though.” Your teeth gently sink into your bottom lip. “Name’s Rumi.” Rumi, a pretty name for an even prettier girl. It replayed in your mind, an echoing melody. Rumi, Ru-mi, Roo-Me, Ruh-oo-me.

Rumi.

She’s pulling you away before you can argue, leading your pliable form to a booth across the dance floor. You glide through crowds and slip past people, hands interlocked as you walk.

It’s disorienting when Rumi pushes you onto the pleather seats, sliding in beside you. It’s pathetic how your cunt throbs when her hands rest on your hips. “You’re so pretty, honey.” Rumi's grip is possessive as if you were her prize for the evening.

“Look at you,” Her hands are roaming, creeping up your torso until they’re cupping your breast. A staticky feeling fluttered through your body at Rumi’s touch. Eventually, her hands move up to your cheeks, smushing your lips together. “Beautiful.” She leans in and softly kisses you.

Rumi’s hands eventually find their way to squeeze and grope at other parts of your body. Your lips are interlocked, tongues briefly intermingling. Rumi breaks the kiss, leaving you to pant hopelessly.

“You want me?” You nod, stupefied. With a quirk of her brow, you compose yourself enough to scramble a plea. “Isn’t that what I said on the floor?” Rumi smirks, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear before leaning in to kiss you once more. Your lips meet, hers soft and sweet, a subtle burn behind her kiss from her previous alcohol consumption.

Rumi’s hands cradle your head and grasp at your hip. The kiss is deepened as her tongue glides against your own. As if your bodies were magnets you found yourselves gravitated towards each other. You shuffled onto her lap, your thighs strewn across hers as she held you closer.

Rumi’s hands escape to your waist as yours escape to hold the back of her head. Almost swapping positions. She grabs and gropes, pinching the skin and grinning as you cry out. Your mind is foggy, you’re present but, your body’s on fire.

You feel good, better than good. Your core throbs and aches, hips bucking as you beg for attention. Rumi obliges your silent pleas, she gently strokes your thigh. Skilled fingers just barely brushed against the thin fabric of your panties.

Your lips move in sync, her dominating yours as you submissively accept. Rumi teases your sensitive skin, dragging her nails drown your thighs, roaming towards your ass only to move away.

You pull back for air, panting heavily as Rumi kisses your neck. Hazy eyes darted around the club, hoping no one was watching you and your newest lover and it seemed as if you both were invisible to the intoxicated crowd. They were dancing, drinking, laughing, anything but, looking at your booth.

You pull Rumi back by her hair and smash your lips against hers. She admired your bold move but, shut you down soon after. Her teasing finally comes to an end as her fingers rub against your clothed clit. Your cunt leaks with arousal, the sticky fluid clinging to the panties adding the pool on the thin fabric.

Rumi pulls your panties to the side and slides her finger through your soaked cunt, collecting the juices you produced. She pulls back from the kiss and shoves her two fingers into your mouth, replacing the warm feeling of her soft tongue. Your eyes, wide and naive, stare into hers.

“Go on,” She gives you an encouraging nod. “Taste yourself.” This wasn’t your first rodeo by any means yet you felt so intimidated by her. Her presence alone was enough to make you feel small, almost insignificant.

Slowly, your tongue dances around her fingers. Between each digit and over each knuckle, you clean her finger of your arousal and allow her to slip them away from your mouth.

Rumi's saliva-slick hand trails back to your throbbing core and her finger traces your clit, applying pressure, making you moan.

Her eyes bore into yours, asking for permission before she continued with her insatiable and filthy acts. “Yes.” Your voice was soft but Rumi heard you loud and clear. Her fingers began their descent into your hot, wet cunt. The way they curled and scissored against your walls forced moans and gasps from you.

You were thankful for the upbeat, loud song the DJ had chosen to play.

Rumi's fingers were like magic, bringing you quickly to your impending orgasm. Your hips rock with her motions hoping for more friction and control. Rumi notices your tactic and pins you in place, giving you a stern look when you pout. “You take what I give.” She mumbled, staring down at her fingers sliding into your slick pussy.

Her eyes watched as your pussy throbbed with every movement and arousal leaked into her hand.

A loud moan makes Rumi look up at you. You sat slouched on the booth, teeth sunken into your hand and eyes squeezed shut. “You close baby?” You nod rapidly as the knot in your stomach nearly bursts. “You can cum baby, go ahead. Cum for me, honey.” Rumi kisses your neck and ear.

A strangled moan gets caught in your throat as the tension finally snaps as your orgasm washes over you. Cum drips down onto the seat and into her hand making her praise and console you. “You did so well for me honey.” She praises, rubbing her free hand up and down your trembling thighs.

“So good for me.” Your heart pounded and your head seemed hazy, not only from the activities you had engaged in earlier. You pant and whimper as you calm down for the erotic scene. Rumi smiles down at you, watching as you come down from your high.

“C’mon baby, come back to me. Floatin’ off too far.” She kisses your forehead, cheeks, and nose. Anything to jump-start your mind. Soon your eyes refocus, settling on the hulking form before you. God damn, isn’t she gorgeous? “There’s my pretty girl.” She coos, smiling. “I’d take you somewhere to continue this but, I didn’t show up alone.” Rumi waves, looking over you, raising her hand, and then focusing back on you.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t relax though.” Your walls throbbed and you realized she never removed her fingers. “Oh, sorry love. Wanted you to be more attentive before I overstimulated ya’.” The white-haired woman suddenly leans over you protectively, flashing a smile at whoever is approaching.

“Thank you.” Her voice was thick. A waitress places two trays of drinks on the table. The smaller woman bows and skips off leaving you two alone.

“You’re starin’, pretty.” Rumi grabs one of the drinks and downs it. You hadn’t even realized your eyes never left her. Honestly, besides the overall brain fog, you were still trying to decipher who she was.

You wince, as everything around you seems to become louder. It’s like a kick in the chest. This sudden clarity shocks your senses, sobering you from all previous events. You almost feel winded and dizzy.

“Breathe for me, honey.” You do as told, shutting you as she holds you. Her fingers shift within you, pulling a heavy whine from your chest. Rumi coos softly, rubbing her thumb over your aching clit to soothe you.

Slowly, her fingers are pulled from your aching cunt, leaving you empty. It’s crude, the way she grins at your watchful gaze. Rumi pulls the digits into her mouth, groaning at the taste of you. You watch with bated breath as she cleans herself before pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I’m gonna need to taste you again before the night ends.” Her voice is sultry and silky. You nod dumbly.

You're moved back to your spot beside her, a hand resting on your thigh for comfort. She’s forcing you to drink water as she talks, it’s a little hard to hear her over the music but, you were just happy to be looking at her. Suddenly, she catches something in her peripheral.

“You bastard!” She shouts to a figure approaching the table.

“Walkin’ with a fuckin’ limp? Already? I thought you could hang Mr. Takami.” A bashful blonde strolls up to the table. “Shut up.” The man whines as another figure approaches behind him. Rumi laughs as you notice the man behind the blonde.

Fucking Dabi.

Both of your eyes widen seeing each other. “Did you bring your toy to meet me?” Dabi stared at you in shock, impressed but, shocked nonetheless. “No, I need to take a seat.” Rumi laughs a sound that focuses you. “Well then, this is ___. Honey, this is my best friend, Keigo.”

Holy fuck. As if this night couldn’t get any goddamn better. Of course, he had to choose the one blonde who was best friends with your hookup.

“Heyo.” Keigo slides into the seat across from you. “This is Dabi. Dabi, Rumi.” He gestures towards the woman. Keigo’s a pretty blonde, average height with a nice build but, you couldn’t see much dark, collared shirt. Behind him, pressed between his back and the booth were a set of vibrant red wings.

A pair you had seen on television and Dabi’s phone many times.

“So how’d you two meet?” He asks as he pulls Dabi to sit beside him. “Saw her on the dance floor,” Rumi's arm comes to wrap around your shoulder, keeping you close. “She’s so fluid when she moves.” A smug look falls on Keigo’s face.

“What about you?” Rumi asks, stopping Keigo before he speaks further. “Oh, I saw hi—“ He is interrupted by Dabi. “Saw him in the bathroom, he let me do a line off his ass.” His nonchalance made the statement feel so natural as if the words he said weren’t totally absurd.

“You were in there for much longer than just ‘doing a line.’” Rumi presses. “You’re a smart girl, you saw the limp.” Dabi chuckles, grabbing a drink from the tray before him.

“How come my business gets aired out and Rumi gets to stay quiet?” Keigo pipes in.

“Oh relax, birdie. Maybe later.” Rumi takes her shot. “I’m kinda curious too.” You kick Dabi’s shin, making him laugh. “It’s fine, I’ll pry it out of the bird later.” You all laugh, grabbing shots and chatting.

You're sticking looking between Rumi and Keigo. Back and forth as if you were almost programmed to do as, analyzing them. The markings by Keigo’s eyes, Rumi’s ears, and muscles. “You alright there, dove?” Keigo asks, noticing your movements. Dove.

It finally clicked and you felt like an idiot.

You had been dancing with a pro. Mirko to be exact. You were kissing and grinding and letting Mirko touch you. The Bunny hero was seen as any lesbian's wet dream. Her muscled stature, boisterous personality, and glowing face made her easy to love.

Dabi on the other hand had been with Hawks. Japan’s heartthrob and favorite hero. His charming words, striking quirk, and gorgeous looks left everyone in awe.

The Mirko and Hawks. The Bunny and Bird duo most of Japan would drop their panties for.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You grab another drink from the table, quickly downing it to suppress the sudden onslaught of thoughts. “Where the hell have you been, doll?” Dabi spoke from his spot across from you. “I could ask you the same.” He gives you a look, one that says “I asked you first.”

“Need I remind you? You left me.” You stated matter of factly. “I was propositioned by an old man for a grand.” Rumi chimes in, “I can attest to that, I saved her.” Dabi just rolls his eyes, used to your typical dramatics. “Did you take it?”

“Not the point.”

“Look, at least I gave you a heads up.” He argues in defense. “Not really.” A look of annoyance crossed his scarred face. “Yeah, yeah. I told you I’d be busy.”

“Not with fucking Hawks.” You muttered to not alert anyone who may have been eavesdropping. “Oh well, told you it was a blonde.” Dabi shrugs as if that removed all the blame from him. “Besides you didn’t tell me it was Mirko.”

At his words, you shrink on yourself. The truth finally spills from your lips. “I didn’t realize it was her…” The man blinks at you in silence before erupting with laughter. “How do you not realize you’re getting fingered by Mirko?” Keigo and Rumi do their best to suppress their own giggles.

“Will you shut up?” You whisper-yell in embarrassment. “Aw come on, don’t give her a hard time,” Keigo speaks after calming himself. “The only reason we come to this shithole is to go unnoticed.” Which made sense, everyone seemed so focused on their own worlds.

“So,” Rumi hums from beside you. “How do you two know each other?” You sigh dramatically. “He is, unfortunately, my best friend.” Dabi rolled his eyes, leaning back and folding his arms to rest behind his head.

“You adore me.” He replied smoothly. “Loathe, you. There’s a difference.” You correct him. “Sure, like you would know.” The dark-haired man scoffs, looking over at the crowd.

“Seems like there’s something more than friends here.” Keigo admits. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Didn’t say that but, there’s something.” You lock eyes with the hero, studying his features in the dim lighting.

Although your way of life and line of work prevent you from being too involved with heroic affairs, you’ve seen Keigo before. His glowing skin, perfect hair, shiny wings, and stylish clothes. He’s gorgeous, in person and on screen.

He looks different before you, obviously out of hero attire and a professional setting. His normal get up replaced by a black collared shirt and matching jeans. Although a visor no longer obstructed the view of his golden eyes, his saucer-like pupils did.

“What did you do to him?” You asked, remembering Rumi’s remark about his walking. “Why do you wanna know? Fear you’re missin’ out?” He laughs, throwing an arm around the blonde.

“Hell no. Shut up!” You pout, leaning further into Rumi. “Don’t get so defensive. You know I gladly will.” You can feel a slight jealousy brewing inside of you, almost making your eyes twitch. “Take you in the back and bend you over. Want me to take a line off your ass too?” The rattle of his deep voice went straight to your cunt.

“Or do you wanna go back to mine?” You shift in your seat, cunt throbbing and panties soaking once more.

“That’s enough.” You grumble, face flushed. Dabi knew the perfect way to get under your skin, especially if he wanted something. “I mean, I really wanna get out of here.” Keigo leans his head on your friend's shoulder.

Dabi grins as Rumi also agrees. “We have a place nearby, it’s easier that way.” She says, not even giving you a moment to speak. All parties seemed to agree but you. You watch as Dabi kisses Keigo’s foreheads before whispering something inaudible in his ear.

Your cheeks are pinched and your fave is turned towards Rumi. “We should head out,” Rumi’s voice filled your head as she gets closer. “I wanna get you outta this dress.” She nibbles at your ear. “Does that sound good to you? Goin’ to a hotel or somethin’ and lettin’ me wreck this pretty pussy?” You have to stay quiet so you don’t moan. “Y-yes, please.” Your voice, weak and trembling.

Rumi and Keigo glance at each other and give a nod. “Let’s go.” Rumi helps you up from the booth, holding onto your arm as you wobble for a moment. She brushes herself off, quickly linking arms with Keigo.

“Look at me.” A rough voice commands, fingers finding your chin. You're forced to look into Dabi’s intimidating gaze. “You okay?” Before you can speak he’s brushing lint off of your dress and fixing your hair. “I’m okay, Dabi.” His thumb cautiously wipes stray eyeliner from beneath your water line.

“We can dip at any time. You wanna stop? We’ll go. Understand?” You nod quickly, not trusting your voice at the moment. “Good girl,” He pressed his lips to your forehead, making your eyes flutter shut. “Don’t need you puttin’ yourself in a bad situation f’me or because you’re starstruck, m’kay?” You nod again.

“I need words, pipsqueak.” A shiver wracked through your body. “Okay..”-“Good, thank you, princess.” You and Dabi’s relationship is more than complicated. You're not together by any means but, you keep the bed warm for each other. He’s never shown particular interest in you, besides your time spent together and jokes to mess with you.

Dabi has taken it upon himself to always be your caretaker. He's always there, even if you don’t see him. Especially in a situation like this, he’d never let you sleep with someone without his presence. For some reason, you abide by his rule.

“I drove us here, keeps things more inconspicuous,” Rumi says, tossing some cash on the table. “I’ll go pull the car around, there’s a lounge in the back.” She straightened her dress and threw her long hair into a bun. “Kei,” The blonde peers around Dabi. “Get them back there and I'll let you know when I’m here.” - “I gotcha. C’mon guys.”

Rumi kisses your cheek before she leaves, giving you a wink before she disappears into the crowd. Dabi throws an arm over your shoulder as Keigo grabs his hand, leading you all to a dim hallway lined with pictures and tacky decor.

A security guard and a black metal door were the only things here and as you approached man opened it. Four large men, dressed in security uniforms, turned to watch you enter. “Evenin’.” Keigo’s voice was chipper, he even wore a smile.

“Just waiting for our ride. Do you mind?” The men look at you, eyes flickering up and down. “Right this way Mr. Takami.” One of the men rises from his seat, unclamping a velvet rope and pulling the curtains back.

“Room number four is cleared, sir.” You follow behind them, entering the dim room. “Well, aren’t you helpful? I’ll be sure to leave a good tip.” You looked to Dabi. “Y’alright?” He murmurs, continuing to keep you close.

“I’m okay, I swear.” You nudge your head into his shoulder. “You’ve been all over the place, princess. Mind keeps wanderin’ away.” Keigo takes a seat, pulling his phone from his pocket.

Dabi lets you go, following Keigo's lead. He sits with enough room between him and Keigo for you to squeeze in. “C’mon, get comfortable.” Dabi pats the space. Both of their thighs were spread, leaving you practically no room to sit without sitting in them.

“Rumi shouldn’t be too long but,” Keigo tucks his phone away. “She parked on the other side of the street.” He shrugs, adjusting his position. “Might as well take a seat.” His gaze was predatory, the way his hips shifted, exposing his dickprint.

You roll your eyes and take the seat, ending up spread on their laps. They don’t mess around, hands quickly coming to touch and rub at your figure. Their faces in your neck, kissing at the skin and tickling you with their breaths.

“You’re so pretty, dove.” Keigo mutters, his hand squeezing at your thigh. “I like this color on you.” Dabi nips at your lobe. “Thank you.” You’re already breathless, almost overwhelmed by the attention you’re receiving.

“Did you say ‘thank you’ to Keigo?” He asks, voice husky. “Thank you, Keigo.” You pant out, locking eyes with him. “Good girl.” Dabi coos, his hand coming to cradle the nape of your neck. “Isn’t he pretty?”

You're positive your pupils match Keigo’s. Dilated and hazy but, full of lust. His hands creep around your waist as he pulls you close. “Mhm,” You hum, entranced with the man before you. “You should kiss him, pretty.” He felt like your conscious or the little devil sitting on your shoulder.

“For me, yeah?” Egging you on for mutual satisfaction. Keigo kisses you, unable to take the tension much longer. Lips mashing, hands roaming, and soft groans rumbling from your chests. Dabi watches with a wide grin, one hand on your neck and the other on Keigo’s clothed dick.

He would occasionally squeeze both of you, relishing in your moans.

Keigo’s hands move to your breasts, squeezing the flesh in his palms before slipping his hands beneath the fabric. He breaks from the kiss to ogle your tits, pressing his face between them, kissing them, and sucking on the skin. “Keigo, shit.” You bite your finger to suppress your sounds.

Keigo worships your tits. Lapping at and sucking on your nipples, tweaking them between his fingertips. He left hickeys in his wake, covering your chest in lovebites to remember him by. The warmth of his tongue in your sensitive nipples flooded your cunt.

Dabi’s hands left their positions, soon one was trailing up and down your thigh. The other was unbuckling his jeans and delving beneath the fabric of his boxers to stroke his aching erection.

You grab Dabi’s hand, placing it exactly where you needed him. His large hand covered your entire clothes cunt, his fingers press along the fabric. “One time not enough?” He asks in a hushed tone. “Please, I don’t ask for much.”

“Yeah right.” Dabi scoffs but, obliges your plea. Your panties are shifted to the side exposing your soaked pussy to the cold air. You whine loudly as his finger presses against your clit, the skin-to-skin feeling almost foreign.

The men had focused their attention on you. Keigo worshiped your breasts as he stroked himself. Dabi made quick work of stimulating your clit, drawing tight circles in the bundle of nerves. Your juices were coating his fingers, causing them to slip occasionally.

“You’re soaked.” Dabi coos, allowing his fingers to glide through your slick folds. “Ya’ like me spreadin’ you open?” You mewl at his words, squirming in your spot. He snickers, watch as you watch him attentively, awaiting his next touch.

Two thick digits circle your aching cunt before delving into the source of slick. Your back arched at the intrusion, hands flying down to grab his. Dabi’s fingers slowly pump into you, rendering any fight against him useless.

You’re soon weak, laid across him and Keigo, on display for anyone who may pass through. Your cunt squeezes around him, gushing from the slightest ministrations. You're already sensitive, having an orgasm ripped out of you once before.

Now Dabi’s assault on your poor cunny felt like overkill. His thumb was pressed to your clit, tight circles traced on your skin, his fingers deep in your core, Keigo’s hot mouth on your tits.

It’s becoming too much.

“Kei, c’mere.” Dabi broke the static of your moans, guiding their faces together before locking into a deep kiss. You're pliant and needy beneath them, helpless watching from below as they make out. It's slow, passionate, something that makes your heart skip a beat. They seemed comfortable as if they’d been in this scenario before. Knowing, Dabi, they have.

Keigo writhed in his spot, softly thrusting into his hand for any kind of friction.

Dabi refuses to skip a beat, his fingers increase with pace. You cry out from beneath them, soaking the fabric below you.

Dabi breaks the kiss, pulling Keigo up and into his lap. “S’fuckin’ pretty.” He mutters, grabbing the blonde’s jaw. Heavy eyes, filled with lust, meet your own. You stood dumbly in the room, fingers twisting strands of hair. “For someone so hellbent on gettin’ fucked tonight, you’re bein’ quiet distance.” His brow quirks up, asking you to give him some excuse.

“Does it feel good, princess?”

“Speak up.”

“It feels so good, please don’t stop!” Your pretty eyes are full of tears, pleading with him to keep going. Keigo, ever the pleaser, locks you into a deep kiss. You hum in contentment, eyes fluttering shut. Keigo is quick and needy, a predator devouring his prey.

His kiss was hungry. All spit, tongue, and teeth. Hands wandering, tugging, and squeezing at whatever they can find.

Keigo pulls away almost as quickly as he sprung towards you. He’s a panting mess of blonde hair and disheveled clothing. “I need to taste that pretty pussy.” He heaves between bated breaths. “Ya’ gonna let me, dove?” He doesn’t give you a moment to speak, latching onto your neck once more leaving pretty purple marks against your skin.

“Car’s out back let’s—“ Dabi is the only one coherent enough to notice Rumi in the doorway, sending her a two-fingered wave. She watched as you writhed in Keigo’s grasp, soft moans spilling from your spit-soaked lips.

“I hate to break the party up but, if we don’t leave right now I’m gonna slut you all out in front of everyone.”

None of you waited around for another order. Scrambling to dress yourselves and exit the dingy building. It didn’t take long to get to their hotel, a ten-minute drive max.

Rumi sat in the driver's seat, struggling to keep her eyes on the road. The rest of you piled into the back of the vehicle, a perfect distraction for your driver. Grinding, kissing, moaning, spanking each other. Her eyes would flicker between the streets in front of her and the backseat.

Rumi desperately wished she could just watch, pull over to the side of the road, and throw all caution to the wind. She wanted to watch as you and Hawk’s sloppily made out in the backseat, tongue tangling and grinding against each other's thighs but, the rearview mirror would have to suffice.

Once arriving at the hotel, she helped untangle the mess of limbs and escorted you all to their room. She scolded Keigo as he nearly sunk to his knees in the elevator, reminding him of the cameras watching their every move.

You had to behave until getting into their room and once you did, you were aghast. Your eyes widened as you looked around, no longer focused on your partners behind you. “This place costs more than my rent.” You awed, looking around. Rumi and Keigo snicker, licking up and getting comfortable.

There’s a sudden gust of wind, lifting the skirt of your dress and you’re surrounded for a moment by a plume of crimson. You turn, and watch as Keigo stretches his wings. They almost double in size, effectively dwarfing you beneath him. He wore a proud smile on his face, wings back to their full appearance.

“Sorry, dove. Feels weird not having them around.” You yelp as something brushes against your nipples before a red feather slips from between your breasts and onto the wings of the hero before you. “Pervert.” You tease, making him chuckle.

“Come with me.” Keigo takes your hand pulling you behind him. He leads you from the entryway to the closed door of the bedroom. Two feathers pushed the doors open revealing a stunning bedroom. Your jaw falls in shock once more.

The room was huge, decked in neutral-toned colors, floor-to-ceiling windows, mood lighting, and a large bed in the center. “Seems like you two were plannin’ on bringin’ someone home.” Dabi's voice made you jump, he stood in the doorway beside Keigo.

“It wasn’t exactly Rumi’s plan.” He admits, leaning against the taller man. Dabi pulls the hero close, pressing a kiss to his hairline. You were too enraptured with the room to hear their conversation only for Keigo to speed past you.

He collapses onto the bed, sprawling out onto the sheets of the massive bed.

You jump feeling a quick smack to your ass. “Get on up there, princess.” Dabi coos, following behind Keigo. You watch as he kisses the blond, straddling his waist, and pinning his hands beside his head. “You heard him, right?” Rumi’s voice scared you. “Relax, honey.”

“And take that pretty dress off, I wanna get a few things.” Rumi was already taking off her heels, allowing them to clatter to the floor.

You followed her orders perfectly, stripping yourself of your dress only to be stopped by a warm hand. “Let me help you.” Dabi stared at you with such intensity and lust, a look you’ve seen from him many times but, this was different. A kind of gentleness resting behind his gaze.

“Da—“ He hushes you. Carefully, his hands slip beneath the strap of your dress, knocking them off your shoulders. “Calm down, doll.” His hands were hot as they pulled your dress down your legs, lips attached to your skin, leaving lavender memories for you to find later.

You're gently pushed onto the bed and he follows suit, back to kissing your sensitive skin.

Keigo moves to the other side of you, kissing your thighs in worship. You felt as if you were on a cloud, having two men adore your body felt amazing. The men met at your hipbones, staring at each other over you before leaning in for another heated kiss.

Their tongues tangled with each other, strings of spit slipping from their mouths and down onto your heated skin. You writhed and whimpered, watching the two men delve into such intimacy. Keigo's hand was quick to find your clothed cunt, dragging his fingers up and down your soaked folds. Your hips canted up, breaking their kiss. “Calm down, princess.” Dabi’s voice made you shiver, heart pounding harder in your chest.

His scarred lips are pressed against your panty-clad clit, eliciting a beautiful moan from your kiss-swollen lips. He sloppy kissed your clit, laving over it with his tongue, moaning each time you writhed beneath him and the blonde.

A throat clearing makes your eyes snap open.

Rumi stands at the end of the bed, lilac strap-on standing proudly before her. “I see you all are getting along well.” She gets a chorus of moans in return. Your panties were soaked in drool from the men, all of it mixing with your arousal and making it drip and coat your cunt and ass. “Such a sight for sore eyes,” Rumi crawls onto the bed, slowly. Dabi and Keigo slowly pull back from your cunt as she made her way towards you. “Such obedient boys, hmm?” She grabbed their jaw.

Keigo melted immediately, a doe-eyed look on his face while Dabi was the complete opposite. A look of annoyance and embarrassment washes over him before he pulls from her grip.

“Thank you for gettin’ her nice n’ wet f’me.” Her red gaze was now on you and you nearly cried. She was all muscle and curves.

Heavy tits sitting perfectly on her chest, thick thighs on full display, wet pussy hidden by her harness and strap. She noticed your gaze, spitting on her hand and slicking up the toy. “You wan’ this? Hmm?” She hums, teasing you without even touching you. “You want Mommy’s big cock inside you, baby?” You whimpered loudly, nodding quickly. She laughs at you, loud and mean. “Yeah? Okay, I’ll give it to you, honey.”

She leaned down, hovering over you. “‘M gonna ruin you, baby.” She teases your slick folds with the tip, dragging it down from your clit to your sopping hole and back up again. She repeated this motion several times, watching as your resolve slowly broke until you were clinging to her and whining for her to just, “Put it in already!”

She answered your prayers soon enough, her thick cock splitting you open on her pretty strap. A moan is ripped from the deepest parts of you. “Fuck, so tight.” Her eyes stared down at your hole, watching how your walls held her. Rumi pulls out slowly, pushing back in just a little deeper. She keeps her thrusting at a steady slow pace, watching as you squirm beneath her.

You were growing slightly impatient, wrapping your legs around her waist, trying to push her deeper. She ignored your pleas and pinned your arms as you went to grab her. “Mph-please,” You beg, getting tired of the slowness. “F-Faster, Mommy.” Her ears perked up, her body going rigid for a moment. Her tail moved quickly, tickling your ankles and calves. She kicked into overdrive, pulling out quickly and pounding into you with a loud ‘squelch!’ You felt all of the air get punched out of you and you didn’t even get a moment to recover.

She fucked into you quickly, thick cock slamming into your cervix without care. You keened and cried, happy you got your wish. “Fuh-fuck yes, Mommy!” You cry, tears wetting your hazy eyes and flushed cheeks. “More-muh-more!” Her pretty hands wander down to your clit, rubbing tight circles on your soaked cunt.

Her other hand dragged over your figure, gently stimulating you but, making you beg for more. Your eyes roll to see Dabi mounted behind Keigo, the younger male's wings spread and twitching as his eyes roll. Finger digging into the fabric as he cried out your best friend’s name.

The ghost-like touch of her hands caressing your bosom and the heavy pressure of her strap, deep inside your gummy walls, made you squirm.

Some cry out when they cum. Backs arched and lips open in a shout. They’ll cry for their mothers, god, or anything their lust-hazed minds can possibly name in the heat of the moment.

You were definitely a part of that group.

Whenever your hands or your silicone toy has brought you to another orgasm, you’d cry out and arch your back in ecstasy before falling back into the comfort of warm sheets.

Now you cried out her name, back arched high off the bed as you cum just for her. She laps it all up, her non-stop thrusts dragging it on for what felt like ages. “Such a good baby,” She coos, bringing her lips down to nibble at your collarbone. “There you go, cum ‘round this strap, honey.” You cried out at each sharp thrust, feeling her so deep inside you, that it drove you crazy.

Your silky walls throbbed, slick continuing to leave rings of creamy white around her strap. Your hips jerked suddenly, trying to pull away from her. “Too much? Hmm?” You nod quickly, breathless and lightheaded. Your bleary vision focused on Keigo next to you, eyes crossed as Dabi fucked him into oblivion, drooling trailing from between his pretty swollen lips.

“Okay, okay.” Rumi’s thrusts come to a stop as she stays nestled inside you. Her lips wrap around your nipple, gently sucking at the hard bud. “So good, baby.” She hums, tongue curling around your bruised breasts.

“Gonna let Mommy cum, hmm? Mommy’s gonna cum for you, baby.” She kisses your chest, removing her hand to rub at her own clit. Her heavy strap rested against your cunt and stomach. Her mouth covers your own, allowing you to swallow each of her moans as she draws herself over the edge.

Soon, she came so prettily. Moans flowed freely as she tossed her head back before burying it into your neck. She shivered against you, kissing your neck and rubbing your hips.

You two lay in the aftermath, lulled into relaxation by the steady moans and thrusts of the couple next to you. A wing suddenly smacks you in the face, forcing your eyes open in frustration. Keigo’s back was arched so prettily. Wings fanned out, mouth hung open as rope after rope of cum splurt out from his throbbing cock. Dabi soon toppled over the edge after him. Filling him to the brim then, pulling out to watch it pour from his abused hole.

You all lay in the bed, catching your breath after all of the pent-up sexual tension came to fruition.

“Fuck,” Dabi was the first to speak. “Need ‘nother blunt.” Keigo laughed, rolling onto his back. Rumi nuzzled your neck, pressing more kisses. Dabi sat up, stretching himself out, getting up to grab his coat. Rumi sat up, removing her strap which left pretty indents on her dark skin. Dabi returned, holding a baggie and his packet of papers.

Dabi leaned to the side, using Rumi’s nightstand to roll a few blunts. Everyone took a moment to breathe, coming down from their long-awaited orgasm of the night. You knew it wasn’t over though. Golden eyes traced over your bare skin, flickering from your blissed-out face to your still-dripping cunny.

You could feel the throb from your cunt once you see his cock, slowly twitching back to life. You two kept your eyes on each other while Rumi and Dabi spoke. You both slide closer to each other, sitting with still a bit of room between you two.

Suddenly, you two surged towards each other, lips locking in a heated kiss. Hands roaming all over each other's figures. Pulling hair, grabbing feathers. You both pull away, panting and sloppy. “Wan’ you to suck my cock, baby.” He was slightly out of breath, puffs of air fanning your face. “Wan’ fuck ‘his pretty pussy.” He was still slightly delirious, both of your eyes practically mimicking hearts.

Your hands drift down to his already hard cock, gently stroking him as he cooes so prettily beside you.

“Such a pretty cock, Kei.”

He whines and keens, your thumb swirling around his cockhead, collecting any stray precum. You stared down at the blonde’s cock lovingly, enjoying his purrs and moans. Your cunt was throbbing, slick leaking down your thighs and onto the sheets. You need Keigo, desperately. You hardly wasted any time. Dropping down and wrapping your lips around his pretty cock.

His hips cant up into your mouth before you held him still, suckling his pretty head while he cried beneath you. “S-so good, ___! Feels so fuckin’-ah!” He was so sensitive from his previous fucking, twitching wildly in your mouth and already pumping drops of precum into your mouth. “S’fuh-hmm!” He tosses his head back, running his fingers through your hair before grabbing a decent handful. Dabi and Rumi sat on the sidelines.

Sharing a blunt between the two of them, watching you both indulge in each other. Keigo panted erratically. Already feeling the burn of overstimulation from his previous heavy orgasm. Your mouth was his vice, one he couldn't get rid of. A few feathers part from his vermillion wings, caressing over your body. Carefully winding around your breasts and legs, squeezing tightly onto your nipples.

“Fuck, fuck! Need ta’ ma-make you feel good ___!” Keigo gasps out, followed by the buzzing of a toy Rumi set on the bed early. He teases your hole, circling the cylinder around and coating it in your juices. You initially jumped once it made contact with your clit, taking the blonde’s cock further down your throat and moaning around him.

Pleased by your reaction, he continued to circle your clit and slap it against your sobbing cunt.

Finally, he plunges the vibrator deep inside of you, the thickness of it filling your walls and making you cry out. He kept his cock deep in your throat, fucking into your warmth while his feathers continued to please you. The two on your nipples curled and uncurled, effectively pinching you. The small one on your clit, buzzing quickly and making you gush. Several around your body, gently dragging up and down, keeping you on this edge.

His pretty hands brushed your hair out of your face, wanting to watch as you fell apart for him. “S’good, baby!” He tosses his head back with a loud moan. “Fuckin’ hell! This mouth so fuckin’ good, ‘m gonna cum down yer’ throat, dove!” He was losing his composure, wings unable to stay still as they fluttered and trembled. He was writhing beneath you, fully caught up in the pleasure of your mouth as you bobbed on his cock.

Your walls were tight, squeezing around the buzzing toy. The rope in your stomach was unraveling as you gagged and choked on Keigo’s cock. Each sound forces you closer and closer to your own orgasm. “Please, please!” He begged, seemingly to any higher power. Dabi leans over, stroking his hair and kissing his face. “Such a good boy, Kei.”

“C’mon, cum for her, Keigo.” Rumi joined in, rubbing his chest and hips.

“I’m—gah, ah—fuck!” His lips part in a silent cry, an angel’s plea. Tears were running down his face, matching your own. You two came together; Your walls squeezing around the silicone toy and his cock pumping into your throat. He emptied himself into your mouth. You came with him, gushing around the toy as you swallow his cum. As an attempt to slow your breathing, you drink aloof his arousal. Pulling off his now softening cock with a dopey grin only to fall onto him in exhaustion.

You laid nearly lifeless over top of Keigo. Rumi and Dabi quickly come to your aid. Pulling you off of each other. Rumi cradles the shaking blonde, stroking his hair as he cries. You curled in on yourself, quivering as tears rolled down your cheeks. “Oh no, it’s okay. You both did so good. So good.” Your mind couldn't process what was happening anymore. Brain so clouded, your eyes couldn't focus on your surroundings.

You lay there, shaking, and shut your eyes. Slipping into an uncomfortable unconsciousness.

You were so out of it. High on weed and your numerous orgasms of the night. Your body ached in overstimulation, shivers wracking through you periodically. Heated hands run up and down your quivering body.

“Shhh, relax, princess.” A voice rasps in your ear, kisses pressed down your spine. You lay on your stomach, trying to calm down and stop your hyperventilating. “I know, I know,” He cooes, continuing his motions. “You’re doin’ so well f’us. Doin’ so fuckin’ well.” You relaxed under his grip, eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Can you hear me, princess?” You nod, tapping on the bed a few times. “Good, good.” He moves to cuddle you more easily, one of his arms moving to support your head. “You wanna keep goin’? I’m not gonna force you to take more if ya’ can’t.” Your mouth was dry, probably a factor of cotton mouth but, you swallowed enough spit to coat your throat.

“Yes, please,” You take another large swallow. “Wan’ more.” Dabi chuckles, lightly smacking your inner thigh. “Dumb little slut wants more cock?” He purrs in your ear, moving to straddle you. “Yes, Dabi. Wan’ more.” He manhandles you, forcing you more onto your stomach then, pushing your knees in so you’d be presenting for him, ass in the air.

“Such a gorgeous ass,” He spreads your cheeks apart, watching as your cunt drools for him. “Sloppy girl.” He dives down, kissing your messy hole. Your jolt forwards, whining loudly into the pillows. “My pretty girl.” His scarred lips tainted your hole, smothering and lapping up any juices that spilled out of you.

His jeweled fingers soon join, slipping into your abused hole. “Da-Dabi!” You jolted forward, moving away from him. A sharp smack is landed right onto your left asscheek, followed by two extra.

“Who the fuck are you runnin’ from, huh?” His voice was deep as he growled the words at you. Sharp teeth soon dig into your ass. You cried out, once again moving from the blossoming pain. Dabi spanks your cunny, cackling at your cries. “Answer me you fuckin’ brat.” He tugs your hair, forcing you back to stare at him from upside down. Tears were in your eyes once again, threatening to pour out at any moment.

“‘M suh-sorry, Dabi.” You were begging for sympathy. “Nuh uh, apologize right.” Your brain was so hazed, you searched his eyes hoping for an answer.

“‘M sorry, Daddy.” He smirks widely, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Good fuckin’ girl.” He kisses your lips softly, letting go of his rough hold. “You wan’ my cock, hmm?” - “Yes, Daddy. Want your cock, daddy.” A pleased smile worked its way onto his face.

Dabi readjusts your position, pushing your head into the pillows. “Be good for me, princess.” His leaking cockhead drags through your folds, starting from your clit and dragging down. You whine and push back onto him, hoping for more. He stops, slapping his pierced shaft against your soaked cunny. “Bet this pretty pussy’s so tight,” He grabs your hips as he begins to push in. “So tight and fuckin’ wet.” Dabi growls.

Feeling each cold bulb of his pierced dick sliding into your tight heat made you keen into the sheets. Fisting them tightly between your fists and jaw falling open. “Ah—fuck me…” His voice was slow and drawn out as he pushed through your gummy walls. “Fuck yes, Daddy.” You pant, drooling onto the mussed sheets. Once he’s fully seated, he slowly pulls back out; Letting another beautiful moan flow from his tainted lips.

After a few agonizing thrusts, ripping whines, and whimpers from you, his thrusts pick up the pace. “Came four fuckin’ times an’ you’re still tight as a virgin?” The dark-haired man snarls, fucking into your tight cunt quickly.

His slow pace became fast and ruthless. “Oh shit, Daddy!” You shouted, picking your head up for a breath of fresh air. You moan shamelessly into the air, eyes hazed in pleasure.

“Please—shit—please, please! Sluh—slow down!” The air was being punched out of your lungs. You could feel his cock in your stomach, making a very obvious bulge protrude from your stomach. “Pluh—please! Stop, Daddy! ‘S too much!”

“Ugh—god! Daddy, please!” His cock rammed your cervix, uncaring that you begged him to stop. His fingers dug into your hips in a bruising grip, keeping you upright as he used your dripping cunt. “Creamin’ on daddy’s dick already, hmm?” He growled in your ear, biting at the lobe. “Just started and you're already fallin’ apart.” His hips roughly smacked into your ass, pleasingly reddening your skin.

Dabi’s thrusts were precise and sharp, nailing your sweet spot each, and every time. “Squeezin’ me so damn tight, baby,” His head falls between your shoulder blades. His forehead presses against your sticky skin. “Cum for me, doll. Cum all over Daddy’s dick.” Voice ragged from strain. His fingers trail down to your clit, weaving tight circles to bring you to the edge and you followed his order. Cumming loudly around his thick cock. Cunt pulsating and gushing around him as he moans in pleasure. Praising you for being so damn good for him.

“My good girl, my good fuckin’ girl!” His voice hitches as his hips stutter. “Fuck ‘m gonna cum, pretty.” He presses hot kisses to your back, lips dragging against your skin as he continues to fuck you roughly. You were breathless, barely hanging on to consciousness as he pistons in and out of your abused cunny. You wouldn't be walking for weeks.

“Gonna fill up this tight pussy, m’kay, baby?” You nodded slowly, caught in your post-orgasm haze. The world covered by a thick smoke screen. He grips your waist hard as he spills into your womb, hips continuing their movements as he fucks his cum deep inside of you. Finally, he collapsed onto you. Kisses and mumbled apologies pressed into your skin; Digging into your brain.

The room's air was thick with smoke and lust. Everyone panting and returning to their previous reality. You and Keigo were down for the count. Both lay flat on your faces, panting wildly and eyes shut.

“Y’done?” You lay on the bed in a daze. Mouth parted, drool spilling onto the cool silk sheets. Body shivering from overstimulation and the crisp air. Holes twitching, nearly violently as slick and cum pour out of you. Your eyes are unfocused, staring ahead of you. If it weren’t for the rise and fall of your body, they would’ve thought you were dead.

“Let’s clean ‘em up, get ‘em in bed.” Dabi is already scooping you in his comforting grip. She helps Keigo up, leading you all to the bathroom. A soft kiss is pressed to your hairline, making you hum in content.

“I gotcha, princess.”

[dilf-docs]

Misery Reigns My Lonely Neon Nights

old man!logan x younger fem!reader

summary: logan should've said no. should've just drove the pretty waitress home. that's his job. hers is to serve his cup of coffee to the brim. so why is he riding you to his house?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (cause we have a small daddy kink going on here.. hence the blog name BUT I DO HAVE A GOOD DAD), smut, this reeks of corruption kink for no reason other than me being a virgin whore, like he gets stalker-ish for a second but its logan howlett so we forgive him<3 ya está viejito, brief mention of suicide, sub logan edging on praising kink (if u squint), no protection but u gotta put the hat on the cowboy to ride the horse alr, riding, breeding kink??? angst (the depressing vibes are there cause they follow my writing like a shadow ijbol)

word count: 33,577 words (at the v crack of dawn.. i think i've gone insane FR it's 02:07 am and my brain its eating itself like im gonna start seeing logan in the corner of my room)

side note: newbie here after reading so many fanfics on tumblr but never publishing my own!! its hugh's birthday (well, its past midnight so no more but still!!! it was a couple hours ago) so i figured i should give it a try today cause that man does things to me ESPECIALLY as old man logan i can't lie and say the thought of him fucking me good and slow hasn't crossed my mind too many times 😩 we love sad hot old people in here so naturally my inaguration fic had to be done by him. also, i'm tired of scrapping for votes, comments, and interactions on wattpad so please treat me well during our first:// it's me moving to tumblr it's me hi i'm the problem it's me. i'm a feedback whore so pls leave tons of those!! also, english isn't my first language so if i make a grammar mistake pls do not tell me bc i have no respect for this language ―it just makes me cringe less to write smut on a language that isn't mine lol<3 but if there's any other mistake yes pls do tell me thank u OKAY BYE i needa quit yapping ENJOY dilf town<3

So it started something like this.

It was another simple nightshift for Logan. The weather humid, uncomfortably sticking the fabric of his white button shirt onto his skin. Even with the windows down. Those nights that the driving dragged on for long, like those cigarettes that now made him cough more than relax. The roads felt too long; his eyes too heavy.

Nothing new. Just about what to expect: money short, clients and traffic equally annoying. But that was the problem; nothing was new anymore.

He'd just finish dropping a customer close by, and since the tiring feeling didn't seem to leave his body just yet, a coffee wouldn't hurt. As a matter of fact, the need for a boost to make it home makes him get out of the car and limp his way into the first place his tired vision sees.

The rim of his recently adquired reading glasses slips as he climbs the stairs into the decades old diner, the decoration outdated. He understands; he feels the same way.

Neon lights flash his face when he enters the place and sits in the farthest booth he can find. The air is impregnated in grease and cheap coffee, but he waits at least fifty minutes to order, giving his body some time to rest. In the meanwhile, he tries to distract himself with the newspaper resting on the table, but God knows his eyes are too tired and his mind drifts every two words.

He hopes he doesn't get kicked out, judging from the attentive look he's receiving by a waitress resting on the bar. She looks as bored and tired as he does.

Maybe that's why he chooses her, raising his hand with order in mind. A black coffee. The waitress slides from her position and takes some steps to where he sits.

Her voice is sweet when she introduces herself, and Logan finds himself asking her again what her name is, pretending he's half deaf just to listen to it again.

"It's y/n" you repeat, oh so sickeningly sweet, he might have to skip on asking for sugar.

"Y/n" he savours the name on his lips, trying the tender sound, his eyes darting to the name tag, like he's confirming it. Testing to see if the young woman in front of him is real. Maybe his eyes linger a little too long, and the tip of your ears start to heat. Its the way he examines every feature on your face, like memorizing it in a sense, that makes you squirm. But maybe, just maybe, it's the small―brief, peak he gives to your exposed cleavage, pushing itself against the tight fabric of your uniform what truly gets your heart beating fast.

He looks like what your parents would warn you to stay away and your friends would talk behind your back. Rugged in a way that screams heartbreak, rough around edges your kind nature wishes to soften. It's unresonable to feel this way about a client you just met, but his aloof demeanor peaks your interest, so different from your usual costumers and familiar faces that pop up at the diner.

"Can I order you, darling?" his voice comes out deep, almost passing as a grunt. Just what you imagined it to sound. Why he's acting as his past self so effortlessly, after closing himself off to the point of going by entire days without talking more than three words, is concerning. Why the cute waitress who looks at him with doe eyes, expectant to take his order, is making him break the promise he made to himself not to get attached again―just live by enough to make it to the sea and put a bullet in his head.

"Well, that's just about my job" you joke, feeling confident for no reason. "But you can't order me".

"A damn shame" he chuckles, the sound deep, rumbling on his chest. It's been so long since he's laughed like that: carefree, without that pressing weight on his chest, that despite the sinking notion, sometimes feels more like a hole carved where his heart is supposed to be.

"So..." you trail off, unsure where to proceed after that sound that jolted your entire system awake, "what will you take?"

The banter dies, and Logan is dissapointed when she scribbles the dark coffee on her pretty round letter and walks away. He doesn't miss the sway of her hips, and almost calls her back just to hear her voice again. But he stops himself, because it's getting pathetic.

When she returns with her order, he almost regrets the comeback of his enhaced senses, her honeyed perfume mixed with the bitter smell of the freshly brewed coffee, creating an intoxicating mix.

His lips burn when he sips it, but that doesn't stop him from emptying the cup. Again. And again. All in the name for asking for more coffee, a magnetic force pulling him to the ground, making him forget he's a 200 and something year old man begging like a starved man for at least a fraction of her attention. He feels unworthy of your warmth.

He feigns interest on the newspaper when you return again (he's been stuck on the same paragraph ever since he sat down), the pot in your hands. If you've noticed he's emptied the cups faster than a normal person, you don't ask questions. He's thankful, but can see the amusement and confusion laced across your pretty face.

"More?" you ask, but it's unnecesary. He only nods, and you miss the chatter.

The closeness it's a challenge itself, the uniform's neckline practically shoved down his nose while she fills the cup to the brim. He hears his own heartbeat, the sound averting his attention from another "brief" glance at the cleavage. Is it intentional? Is your goodwill and act? Are you this cruel, playing with an old touch starved man like that?

God knows it's been long since he's had a helping hand during his relief hours.

He can't help it; he's a man, after all. So he seizes the moment and steals a glance. But his eyes meet yours, the wary green clashing with the cozy chocolate. There's warmth on your eyes, and he's looking at your tits like an animal. He pulls away, ashamed. The shirt feels a bit suffocating, and there's sweat on his forehead again. Great, you'll think he's a perv.

"Excuse me" you say, leaving his table. Logan is afraid of having fucked it up for thinking with this dick and not with his head. You were messing too much with his head, and now he'll pay the price. Fair, he thinks, for a perverted old man trying to woo a girl younger and far more innocent than him.

There's benevolance on her smile and blood on his hands.

The whole situation is stupid.

But then he's thinking of excuses (like saying it's his failing eyesight's fault) and something close to an apology, as if he cares a little too much about what you think. And then you come back.

"I forgot to bring you a napkin" she lies, leaving the piece of paper in the middle of the table. You laugh, and Logan let's you because 1. He deserves it, and 2. It's a sound as saccharine as the smell the freshly heated pies emit on the table across him.

You leave before he can even open his mouth, so all he's left with is the napkin that seems to have something written on it. Pervert, he reads, on the same calligraphy you scribbled on your bloc. He can't help but laugh, even with your watchful look on him.

That's how it continued.

Even if he had other rides and more energy to drive, he kept coming to the decaying diner just to see you. Almost as if he was forgetting his desperate need for the money, the boat goal further and further.

"You've forgotten about me" complained Charles, although his tone lacked of bite. "But I'm not mad that you've had".

He'd go on, rambling about living life but Logan just laughed. Yet, maybe he was right. Didn't even need his powers to know it.

Now, you? you simply couldn't get enough of your favorite costumer. Of his late stays until you closed, sometimes not muttering more than necessary, yet his company, even if curt, proved to be what you needed to make it through work, giving you a legitimate reason to yearn the before tedious night shifts.

Despite this two month weird relationship, Logan is as a stranger to you as he was the first day, no matter how many times you've tried to get him to talk. In the end, all your conversation efforts feel more of a monologue than a chat.

He knows about your mom and your dad, one strict the other dead. He knows most of your friends names, what you're studying and what you wanted to. Your dreams and your hopes, your aspirations, failures, and some other things you'd never say to anyone else out loud. All and nothing. And he listens, sometimes asking questions, but never about himself. He never takes the lead.

So frustration from the Logan enigma pours into you, the puzzle pieces layed out over your mind, consuming your thoughts. So now you're stubbornly cleaning the same grease spot on a table you've already wipped before, and that, coincidentally, it's the booth in front of Logan, the permanent resident of your head during these past weeks. You might as well make him start paying rent by now, his power and hold over you ridiculous.

"It's not going anywhere. Take it easy" he mocks you.

There's a bit of annoyance when you reply back, although it's mostly superficial. "Don't know what you're talking about" comes out your dry response, earning a low chuckle from him.

"How about you sit for a moment?" he offers, ignoring your apathy. "You're almost done cleaning up".

If his ever changing attitude isn't enough, closing this night's shift is as tiring.

Logan doesn't expect you to obey, but now you're sitting across from him, and a voice in his head says you maybe feel sorry for this lunatic old man.

You're so close, he can see the eye bags and sorrow you are far tired to try to hide.

"I have to finish cleaning" you explain, "we're about to close".

He doesn't know why he says it, or what takes over him when he says:

"I could wait for you"

He surprises himself and surprises you too.

"No need" you assure, and why does he feel so dissapointed. It's stupid. "My friend picks me up".

Ah, yes. The friend with the perfect stupid smile that picks you up every night. Not like he parks his car until you leave and sees the scene unfold each time, his white knuckle grip on the wheel a bit too much when the young boy opens up your door. Makes him see red, knowing he's your age and maybe the breathe of fresh air you need. Not a man far older, who bears too many sins and scars in and out.

"I see" he says after some minutes in silence, retracting his impulsiveness. "I'm sorry if I made you-"

"No!" you clarify hastily, "it doesn't bother me".

He smiles unconsciously in relief.

"Well, me neither. I insist. If you change your mind" he's practically begging, despite his monotone tone.

But you don't.

The place closes and Logan is forced to get in the car. He lights a cigarette, in no hurry to return home. The lighter lights up while the diner's light goes off. You and your boss come out, biding each other goodbye. She leaves and you're is left alone, hugging your body in the early morning cold. 

He sees you wearing particular clothes, for the first time. He takes a slow drag on his cigarette, eyes running up and down your bare legs, the fragile fabric of the skirt fluttering in the wind. He exhales, watching as you dials your phone several times, getting no response, obviously frustrated.

He mutters something under his breath, and maybe there is a God after all. He starts the car, approaching her, who has already noticed it, probably because of the noise of the engine.

She looks scared, but Logan rolls down the window so she can see it's him.

"Need'a ride?"

Just by his reverberant sound you could accept. But you try to play cool for a while, despite your aching bones and need to get home.

"He doesn't answer" he was right, "my friend".

I know, he wishes to say, but he's the same hot headed asshole who walked through the doors of the X mansion for the first time, so his tone will be laced with irony. He doesn't want you to see him as an intense hot blooded mouth.

I could take you. His head pounds but he shuts the emotions down.

He shoves the knot on his throat down and asks as casually as possible, "do you live close?"

The question rings on his ears. It holds more than just the favor. Logan knows they have a certain tension between them that he no longer wants to ignore. For the first time it seems to be reciprocated; palpable, and he is surprised to hear his heart beating loudly, so accustomed to hearing others' with his sharp senses, constantly forgetting what his own sounds like. Yours also beats erratically, despite your calm composure.

"Just around the corner" you answer. A beat, your frame bending so he can see your face from the driver's sit, the cleavage saying hello again. How considerate of you. "Do you really want to do this?"

Do you really want to do this?

You arch an eyebrow, amused. "I can't believe you waited for me. Your family must be worried."

Logan realizes you're trying to test waters. So he raises his hand discreetly and places it on the door, so you can see the lack of a ring. As expected, your eyes travel to his free finger, and he can swear he sees you breathe with relief, which is funny, because in case you hadn't picked up until now, Logan is very much fucking alone.

"In case you changed your mind," he answers. "I have nowhere else to be."

That is enough of an invitation for you to get in the car.

"I was going to open that door for you" he protests.

You only laugh as you buckle the seatbelt. "It's not that big of a deal, really. You've already done enough for me by doing me the favor".

"It's not that big of a deal" he repeats your words, "as long as I'm of help, that's enough for me".

He smiles wistfully, remembering better times. A part of him still aspires to be that hero everyone loved and remembered, something that clearly doesn't happen anymore (or if it does, it's rare), given the lack of recognition of his former identity in El Paso. He shakes his head, focusing back on the street in front of him. It's too late to get fucking sentimental.

"I like to help too…" you confess, meekly. Logan sighs, how could he not know? "My father used to say that I had the kindest heart he'd ever met. I hope it stays that way, and that when he looks down on me, he's proud".

It hurts Logan to see you be so hard on yourself, as if he didn't do the same.

"I bet all the customers in the place would say you're the sweetest thing they've met", he sees you smile from the corner of his eye, and can't help but emulate it. "Believe me, you're their favorite".

"Thank you, Logan" you say sincerely. However, the affliction that he hates to see crosses your face. So gloomy that you don't even seem the same person.

You wipe away an unexpected tear, but Howlett is faster and notices. You turn around, looking towards the window. Then, you catch a glimpse of his license.

"So… you're a driver" you try to break the silence that Logan has put without knowing why. Maybe to give you some space after being sentimental and opening up again to this closed off wall name Logan, but he knows it's a lie. He's scared. After wanting so much to be closer to you, he cowers, not trusting himself and what he would do trapped in a small space with such an attractive woman. Besides, the tension from the previous conversation was still there.

"You judging me now, honey?" the pet name rolls off his tongue before he catches it. He tries to play it cool, continuing the banter, carrying the same tone. "The only thing necessary to make you trust me was to give you a free ride?

"I'm in your car, Logan. I got in without thinking" you laugh. "I believe that's enough trust"

"Then, I'll keep doing you favors. Maybe if I do…" he trails off.

Your voice drops an octave, provocative. "Maybe what?"

His knuckles grip the steering wheel until they turn white.

"Maybe…" he hesitates, "maybe…"

"It's here" you point out. Shit, Logan curses, braking abruptly without meaning to.

"See you tomorrow" you bid as a goodbye, getting out of the car. Logan misses your smell.

So he sticks his head out the window, like a begging dog.

"How about now?" he says a bit forcefully.

Your face shows surprise and something else.

"You're getting attached" you reply, and he doesn't know why there seems to be sadness in your voice.

"I just keep coming back for the coffee" he defends himself.

You laugh, shaking your head "Now, then. For the coffee, clearly."

"I can leave" he says. Yet, makes no move to leave.

You sigh, giving him one last look. Surrender, he reads.

"You're a driver, right?" he nods, taking in every word coming of your pink plush lips. "Then let's drive off. Anywhere" your voice trails off, and you're just so tired of everything, you'll just let go yourself with the flow. "I'll go wherever you go..."

And this is how it ends.

When you wake up, it's almost dawn.

Logan had suggested you to sleep, claming the road where he was taking you to be long. He had covered you with his jacket, even if your body was burning from nerves.

Why had you agreed? Your mom would probably smack your head in search for some sense, and your reckless friends would encourage you to do it for the sake of a story. But something about Logan makes you feel safe, despite not knowing anything from him. It's sort of a sense of protection―like he would never hurt you, that envelops him. Everyone else would call you crazy; only you can understand that.

When your eyes adjust to the light, you realize you're in a line of cars.

"Did you bring me to the border?" you exclaim groggily, still in a sleepy voice.

"Good morning" he answers instead.

You rub yoou eyes, settling into the passenger seat.

"You're not going to kidnap me, right?" you question, half joking half serious.

Logan laughs, "Not only that. I'm also going to throw your body in a mass grave"

"It's not funny," you pout, although you're laughing too.

Once you've crossed the border, Logan drives a few more minutes, until he reaches a restricted area.

“I live here” he answers before you can ask, “saves rent and questions”

After opening the locks, you can better appreciate the place. Well, appreciate may not be the right word.

“It's an abandoned smelting plant” you voice out loud.

Logan just nods. You realize that he didn't like the comment, so you try not to talk about it anymore.

“Come” he gets out of the car, going to open your door. He offers you a hand, and you fail to hide your smile.

“You didn't miss this time, huh? Quite a gentleman” you praise. Then, add jokingly, “if you choose to kill me, at least I'll die taken care of".

“Stop talking nonsense and go inside” he scolds but smiles.

Inside, the abandoned plant is exactly what you expected.

"We're alone" Logan says, after leaving to check. He opens the door to his room, letting you in. There's not much inside, just a bed and scattered things. A yellowish light begins to filter through the broken glass. "I'mma change. Be right back".

You begin to explore your surroundings, to avoid thinking about the impact of the situation. Two things could happen: leave or stay. Maybe everything was going too fast, but you prided yourself on your spontaneity, often confused with impulsiveness. Others would say it was your naive nature: too innocent for your own good.

What had led you to accept without further ado? Was trust enough, that you had even fallen asleep in his car?

"S'rry for the wait"

You notice that Logan's gotten rid of his formal attire, leaving him in just slacks and an old white tank top. His muscles flex with every movement, making you swallow involuntarily. He still retains his extraordinary physique, despite his greying hair. She can't help but stare at the scars that cover his exposed skin, her fingers itching to trace them.

"Haven't they told ya' t's rude to stare?"

You look away, embarrassed. Logan walks over to the bed, bumping into you in the process, bodies barely touching. Still, an electric shock runs through you. You hug yourself, scared, aware of the effect he has on you.

"Logan" she dares to ask, "what are we doing?"

He finally looks at you. You feel naked under his intense gaze.

"What do you want us to do?"

His voice comes out low, like a growl. You stand in place stiff, unable to form a word.

"Come on, honey", the nickname comes out of his lips so easily, it hurts. "Are ya losing your voice now? Got into my car a while ago without thinkin', what's changed?"

You slowly approach Logan, each stride calculated. He watches you in silence, a silence as hostile as the wind hitting the broken windows, watching you remove your clothes, until all that's left is your bra and that skimpy skirt, as if you knew he liked it.

"Logan…" you whisper his name like a prayer, letting yourself fall on his legs. He holds you with his hard calloused fingers, like a promise.

Don't let me fall. Don't let me go. Don't leave me.

The habit of loneliness settles in between, and the flame they thought in deep slumber rekindles, burning with their long time unattended needs.

"Use your words, sweet thing" the trepidation condenses between, "we're grown up now, aren't we? Use your words"

If by words he meant feeling your lips against his, it's enough to have Logan following his impulses, using his strength to embrace your body until they feel like one, the scars on his hands feeling like your own. Your lips move in sync, and it's almost so casual, so learned, so meant to be, that fear appears in Logan, soon forgotten with the symphony of moans that come from your lips.

"Tell me" he pauses, breaking away from the kiss (something you don't like and express in the form of a pout), "what do you want?"

Logan tastes like cigars and whiskey, a combination you hate and the reason you quit your old job at the bar, but on his lips, it's an intoxicating taste.

"I want you, Logan" you whisper, hot breath against his skin, “you”.

He resumes the kiss, an electric shock of hunger and need between you: lips parted, colliding, teeth almost clashing against each other.

His fingers hesitate with a delicacy that belies his rough touch, the tips of his worn fingers lifting the fragile cloth of your skirt first, revealing soaking wet panties he goes crazy just at the sight of. The smell is sugary, sicklingly, so now he's hard and pulling at the clasp of your bra first, exposing your nipples, which he rolls and pinches mercilessly. A gasp escapes you—then another, and another as Logan pushes his thigh between your legs. The friction is delicious, almost painful against your pulsing center.

His hand firm up his position, securing itself onyour bare legs as you digs her nails into him. His labored moans turn into a guttural growl.

“You think I’m not capable?” he mocks, stealing another moan from her, “that I can’t keep up with you, you pretty young thing?”

You deny it, but Logan takes it upon himself to show you that he can take you like he's in heat, the ghost of his old self taking over in his almost animal way of fucking you, hips arched, muscles flexed and tense, his teeth appearing every time he opens his mouth, reminding you of fangs. They dig into your exposed skin, leaving bruises that will take time to disappear from your shoulders and neck, marking what belongs to him.

The hardness of his skin meets your soft when he grabs you by the waist.

"Look at you" it slips from his tongue, ecstatic. He's a goner, saliva dripping from the messy and sloppy kisses he leaves through your collarbone, "so good and so pure. I bet you're innocent, that you haven't seen what I've seen..."

His pupils darken, a strange mix between torment and desire in his gaze. Hungry and violent.

"Will you let me show you how's a real man s'ppossed to treat a woman?"

He feels shame settle in his belly, the hunger to possess her almost virgin body fueling his dark desire of errasing her sweet smile until she's an unintelligible mess of sobs. To show her what she would complain about, so she'll never slettle for less. So you can feel what it's to be taken care of―handled. And then he'll fill you up with his seed, so no other man will take what's his. His sweet little thing. Oh, he's so going to hell for this.

But maybe he likes pain.

"That's it, honey" he plays with the fabric of your wet panties, pulling at the loose threads in the delicate fabric. "Let me show you".

You take it off, and Logan lies back against the bed, spreading his legs and unbuttoning his belt and pants―a clear invitation to repeat the previous position, except this time, his hands are on top of your hips, squeezing the soft skin. He doesn't take his eyes off you, his gaze reserved only on you. If the adrenaline from before pushed you, now the confidence gained motions you to finish the task. It's just the push you need, remembering that this is what it feels like to be with a real man as you throw a leg over his hips, sitting your ass right on top of the bulge marked on his underwear.

“Right… there…” he barely manages to formulate a coherent train of words, the years of lack of help in attending to his needs leading to overstimulation, “good girl.”

The compliment makes you increase the pace of your hips, his labored breaths a sound so rich and so manly it makes you squirm.

You need it desperately, rubbing your increasingly wet clit against him, riding the fabric. His scruffy beard barely hides the smug smile that graces his lips.

“Like this?” she whispers, and Logan can no longer contain himself, staring at his sweaty, ripped body failing to please her completely. It feels so good it aches, and he can't believe this is how he's ended. But if that means having your pretty face on top of him, covered in his marks, dripping on your joint sweats, well maybe it isn't so bad.

“How can I repay you, honey?” he pleads. He'll try he's best. He just wants to give you a glimpse of the way his whole world has light up ever since he stumbled in that greasy diner.

“You said you were going to show me” it comes out almost as a purr, expectant, “and I’m waiting”.

Logan takes it as his cue, pulling down his underwear until his member is exposed, chuckling darkly when you swallow at the sight.

"Don't tell me you're scared already" he teases, "look how you have me… you can't leave me like this…"

You stifle a scream as you feel every inch of his thick cock enter your sensible walls, trying to fit his member inside of your needy body.

"So tight for me" he stammers, using his hands to keep you in place, on top of him. The only sound in the silence of that place that smells of death is that of their skin colliding―vulgar, the obscenity highlighted by being the only thing that can be heard in the small room.

Even though his stamina has dropped over the years, he thrusts into you relentlessly. Logan fucks you senseless, his balls buried deep in your dripping pussy, a constant rhythm of avid suction with each entry to your walls.

He takes a moment to see you as you take something from the nighstand he doesn't remember putting there.

"Look what I found" you whisper in the middle of your moans. Logan recognizes the shine of metal in front of his eyes, "so Wolverine?"

You say it so easily, like it's not the first time. With acceptance; it scares him.

Do you recognize him? Are you not scared? Why haven't your eyes go from curiosity and kindness to cold and rejection?

He should panic, rip off his dog tags from your hands and pretend he doesn't know who he used to be, but he's so deep inside you and so enraptured, he can only manage to gently take them from between your fingers and put them around your neck, the cold metal against your warm, bare skin creating an electric shock.

"I want to see them on you"

He likes to watch it hang over his face while you're on top, panting heavily as she repeats his name, slurring her words. It dangles with every thrust, the silver glistens in the seeping sun, just like the sweat that adorns her skin.

"Are you that needy of your old man? " he teases, caressing her. He smacks the curve of his ass, “You want more?”

His veiny length makes quick work of your needy hole, more moans escaping your lips.

“Shit,” you curse, wincing at the pain that begins to increase. “Yes, Logan. Just like that. Nobody ever treated me like that, nobody's made me feel like this-”

He moans, pleased with the praise, seeing he isn't as lacking as he thought. Making you feel good is his priority, but he won't lie and say he doesn't want to feel it too.

In an attempt to distract yourself, your eyes try to focus on him: searching his features, memorizing every scar, every wrinkle, every little grey hair.

“You’re perfect, Logan,” you mumble through a moan, the confession hiding more than you want to say and more than he cares to admit.

Before he can process it though, the fire in his stomach signals the arrival of his impending orgasm.

There's something delightful about the way you can barely speak, a mess of moans that sound like his name, eyes half-lidded and lips swollen alongside your messy hair.

He feels almost sick to be consuming something that doesn't and shouldn't belong to him. He doesn't deserve to have such a beautiful, young woman riding him while she clings to him like he's the last thing in this world, him: a worn, old man who can't keep up with her.

His member spasms, and it's got you feeling it all inside your walls, causing him to close his eyes in the process as well.

It's too soon, Logan thinks in shame, but it's been so long and you feels so good, he let's it go:

Thick whips of his cum shoot out of his member, drawing out more than you would've imagined. You don't have much time to think about it, for the orgasm hits you immediately, fingers curling and eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

Logan feels his tip getting wetter, and the extra lubrication is a nice finishing touch.

“God,” he gasps, “what a mess…”

You avoid looking at him, taking one of his hands in yours, kissing the red and violet painted knuckles. If you do, you'll give away what you feel, the same way her memory burns in Logan's chest, more now than ever, as his mouth tastes just like you.

Dependency.

Devotion. Absolute. Sick.

Maybe that was what he felt. This weird feeling. That abyss piercing his chest but never killing him (so much for regenerating...), pressing his heart with a crushing force whenever it threathened to beat again. Logan was content with rather nothing, always a man who didn't ask for much, and since the death of his family―the X-men, less.

"You should go" he mutters in defeat, the shame washing over. Even if he'll miss your warmth, even if he doesn't want you to leave at all. "It's for your own good, y/n. Pretend you don't know me and turn around. Go away" he insists yet gets stuck on his words, "you're not stupid. Then you'll know it's good for you and you'll never speak to me again"

He looks at the ground, cowardly, because he wants your lust filled warm look to be the last memory he remembers. Not whatever look you're giving him now.

So Logan closes his eyes and counts to ten. When he opens them, you'll be gone. It'll be a dream, something too good to be true. Short lived, like every good thing in his life.

"Logan..." you calls his name. So softly it seems like a breath.

You're still here.

"Logan" you call again, more firmly.

"Logan" you don't give up, cupping with one hand his face gently, "look at me".

When he looks up, he comes across a heartbreaking vision. You cry, tears falling like waterfalls down your cheeks. But that's not the most devastating thing, no: it's the look in your eyes, as if you've shared his pain. As if you've had suffered the same things he had suffered; a twisted reflection of him.

"Of course I understand you" you take his hands, and Logan feels that same strange warmth he felt the first time when your hands brushed his with the diner's menu. "I've also lost people… people I loved. Don't you think it hurts me to see the world go on as if nothing happened? Everyone forgets, Logan. But I can't; there's not a day that goes by when I don't think about them"

For a moment, you stop crying, and the hidden internal turmoil he tried so hard to decipher finally makes sense.

"I don't know what you've been through either, but I can promise you, that I understand you more than you think…" it seems like you'll say something else, but you stop and say instead. "Think, Lo: would these people want to see you like this?"

"It's what I deserve" he murmurs barely, his voice constipated but without shedding a single tear.

"It's not what we want, Logan. Please" you sniff, pained "stop being so hard on yourself".

"I'm not who you think I am" he insists. You're still naked on his bed, and he feels dirty for having you like this. For taking you to his home and fucking you raw out of your innocence. "I'm not a good person."

"No, Logan" you seem hurt by that statement. You trace one of his most recent scars with a touch so compassionate, that he feels your fingertips burn, "you are a hero".

Your words were so sweet, so comforting. He wanted to sink into your lap, which smelled like flowers and tasted like safety. A home; a life that had been taken from him. He wanted to believe everything you said―feel who you believed he was. Not this pathetic, tired and apathetic version of himself, but the old version: the version that inspired respect, that despite his tough exterior, had a family he loved. Because he had a heart. Now he feels like he has no soul: no purpose, nothing.

But maybe you are the answer.

Before he can change his mind, you blurt out “can I stay?”

That morning, in that old bed that creaks under his weight, Logan discovers that feeling alive again isn't so bad.

[fandomtherapy44]

Sober buddies Chapter two: Email chains and party facts

Summary: Y/n is new at college and trying to find a footing in everything. When she meets a guy who introduces her to something that could really help find her path.

warnings: Swearing, Alluding to SA, Y/n getting hurt

WC/ 3.029k

AN/ Hey Ya'll welcome to my series I'm so excited to make this series. So it will use some plot lines from season six but a lot will change including CJ but his key character notes will still be there. Without further ado enjoy Sober buddies.

I got the divider from

Firefly Graphics

Friends…I haven’t had one in a while. Jack, Jen, Joey, Pacey, even Audrey, and I had become quick ones. I just hope I won't mess up these friendships too. Joey was going through the ringer right now. I know how it feels. She and Dawson always seemed to have something pulling them apart from what I've been told about their previous years as friends.

I went out to get some coffee and doughnuts hoping that would cheer her up. “Hi, can I please get three americanos and some chocolate glazed doughnuts?” I told the underpaid employee. 

“Yeah, sure.” I reached into my pocket, pulled out a twenty, and handed it to her. Her face lit up. “Thank you!” 

“No problem. Thank you, and have a great day!” I was mostly focused on the coffee and food that I almost ran into with my sober buddy. “Hey CJ, what’s up?” He looked down at the close mess in my hands. 

“Coffee, it looks like it needs some help?” 

“Oh my gosh yes please!” I handed him the coffee. 

“Where we heading?” 

“My dorm,” I happily replied. We walked and the morning air was still a little crisp and the sunlight was hitting the trees to make pretty shadows on the sidewalk. 

“So, are you excited to start training?” CJ asked me as I was a little distracted by the lighting. 

“Yes I am, it's also going to be good to be away from Audrey and all her dramatic flair. I mean, she’s great but it's like looking through a mirror sometimes.” 

“What do you mean by that?�� CJ asked and I realized what I said and tried to backpedal. 

“Uh, you know, girls being girls.” Ok, that was not a very good response. “So who’s training me?” I try to distract both of us. It works. 

“Me.” I stop in my step. 

“That’s awesome!” I excitedly say. 

“You get happy easily, don’t you?” CJ half commented and half asked me with a chuckle. 

“Is that a bad thing?” I hope it wasn’t- it’s kind of what I’m betting on I thought. 

“No no, it’s kind of refreshing.” We had already arrived at my dorm. I stopped to look at him and to think about his response- no one had said that to me before. I looked around and it seemed, for just a second, time stood still. 

“Well, thanks for the help and I’ll see you tomorrow,  ok!” I grabbed the coffee and went into the room, pushing him out. 

“You’re wel-” I closed the door. It was getting a little too… real.

The sight I walked into was sad. Joey was hunched over her laptop, agonizing over this email to Dawson that she hadn’t even sent. I put down the drinks and food, walked over and turned off her computer. 

“Wha- Y/N!” Joey whipped around. 

“Joey, you have been staring at that screen for two hours, the entire time I’ve been gone, and you still have only ‘Dear Dawson’ written. You need a break.” I picked up her doughnut and coffee and handed them to her in her baffling state. “Which is why I got you these.” She breathes in deeply. 

“You’re right, thank you Y/N.” 

I sit down on my bed and turn to Joey. “So, now you have caffeine and food. You want to tell me why you haven’t sent the email yet?” I finished by sipping my coffee. Joey sighs looking into her cup almost wishing she could drown in it. 

“I’m stuck.” 

“Why?” She gets up and starts to pace back and forth. 

“Because of the way we left things were so awkward and I just wanted to scream and hug him at the same time.” I patted the seat next to me and she sat down. 

“It sounds like you know what to say.” Joey looks puzzled. “Joey, Dawson is one of your best friends. Whatever is in that email, at least you have gotten it out. I'm sure he’s stressing out over a similar email to you.” She seems unsure. “You can always blame me if it goes wrong.” I joked as I bumped her. She smiled at that. 

“Thank you Y/N, you’re a pretty great friend.” 

“You are too, Joey.”

That night as I was closing my eyes, my mind was active. My life is going pretty great! I have friends that like me, a job I help people with, a guy that is-

“Y/N WAKE UP!” 

I screamed as I tumbled out of bed causing Audrey to wake up too. “WHAT IS IT? EARTHQUAKE- A FIRE?!” I responded as I was half asleep and panicked disorderly grabbing my robe. 

It was Joey who screamed at me. “No, nothing like that!” I paused to look at her. 

“Then why the Hell the military wake-up call!?” Her face was red from being embarrassed. 

“I sent the email to the whole school!” My eyes went wide as Audrey replied. 

“Well, why did you do that, sweetie?” 

“Audrey! Not helping!” I told her over my shoulder. She grubbles and falls back down with a flop. 

“I don’t know what to do!” She sat down throwing her hands in her face. 

“Okay, this is what we do: we ignore it.” She looked up at me with tears in her eyes. 

“Y/N! What do you mean, ignore it!?” 

“Well, it’s not like everyone knows you so maybe you can get away with it?” I tried to help but honestly, she would just have to face the music.

Thankfully I hadn’t heard about the email, but to be fair, I hadn’t been in a lot of classes. I walked into The Stand building and saw CJ sitting on a desk looking over some papers. He was so focused on it that he didn’t see me enter. 

“What are we looking at?” I slide right next to him. 

“Y/N! You startled me.” He put his hand over his chest as if I caused a heart attack. 

“Sorry, I thought you saw me.” 

“It’s okay. I’m looking over a few practice questions to ask you.” 

“Great, I’m ready!” He smiles at my enthusiasm and sits down in the chair. 

“Okay, question number one….” 

It had been about an hour into our session ten questions in and I had been nailing all of them. “Wow Y/n you’re a natural at this,” CJ exclaimed. 

“Really?” He nods his head agreeably. 

“You will be answering phones in no time.” I blush and try to hide by turning my head down when my ears peak an interesting conversion. 

“CJ- give me one sec, okay.” I didn’t even let him answer before I overheard another conversation and listened in. 

“I mean, did you see that email? It’s so pathetic.” A redheaded girl was sitting on a desk laughing at her boy-toy whose eyes were going right up her skirt. 

“Yeah, it’s so pathetic haha,” He mindlessly responded. Of course, he didn’t have an original thought. The only thought he did have was what was below the waistline. “I mean who writes about sex like that.” She laughed again and this time her laugh really irritated my ears. 

“Hey guys!” I walked over to them, taking a friendly approach- maybe I could go about this peacefully. The redheaded girl looked me up and down and scoffed. 

“What the fuck do you want loser?” My eyes widened at that and CJ turned his head to hear that. 

“Linsey!” Even the boy-toy was surprised at her response. CJ walks over quickly ready to defend me. 

“CJ- it’s okay, I got this,” I said to him making sure that he didn’t get too mad. He steps back but is disgruntled. I turn back to Linsey. 

“It was Linsey, right?” She gets up off the desk and in front of me. 

“Yeah, what’s it to you?” 

“Well, I’m just wondering why you’re making fun of a girl that you don't even know when you’re working at a helpline. Seems kind of hypocritical, don't you think?” Lindsey is left speechless and her face turns beat red. 

“I- You-” She stomps out. “Ryan let’s go!” She yelled after him. 

“So, you doing anything after this?” The guy tried so smoothly to ask me. 

“RYAN! LET’S GO!” She yelled after him. 

“I think your owner is calling for you,” I responded and his F-boy smile disappeared. 

“Whatever bitch, you could have had all this.” I now scoff at him. 

“Yeah, if all it takes for you to stay is an open invitation to someone’s legs who makes fun of strangers like that, then I think I’m good.” I nod at him. He goes running after Linsey. “Sorry CJ about that, what was the next question?” I walked back over to him and he was just staring at me. “What is it?” 

He shakes his head, “Nothing, you just seem to surprise me every time we meet, Y/N.” He finishes with a smile. 

“Well, I have to keep you on your toes somehow.” We just laughed at my joke and I’m left with this feeling of…comfort that I hadn’t felt in a while. It's nice.

A couple of days have passed, and luckily the email talk died down a little. I didn't tell Joey about Linsey because it would have just made things worse for her. I was studying when Audrey came running into the room. 

“Y/N what are you doing?” I looked at the book and then back at her we really needed to work on context clues. 

“Studying, Audrey, which you should be doing too. We have a test next week.” She comes right next to me. 

“Y/N, all you do is study.” 

“Not true… I eat too.” I chuckled at my own joke Audrey did not. 

“It is the biggest party of the year! You’re coming!” Before I have time to reject she grabs my book and locks it in her chore.

“Audrey!” 

“You will get it back at the end of the night.” She saw my disappointed downfall look and got to my level. “You need some fun, Y/N, you are twenty-two; the books will be there tomorrow, but tonight will not.” I thought about it, Audrey was right. I needed to let loose- hopefully the loud music and friends would help that. 

“Okay, I’ll go.” Audrey claps in happiness.

“You’re not going to wear that are you?” I look down at my simple outfit. 

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing- nothing, you look great!” Audrey responds in a not-so-sure voice.

We had gone into a bar to meet up with Jack and Jen. “Hey guys.”

“Hey.” Audrey goes to call Pacey while the three of us chat. Suddenly, Audrey comes back to us with a sad face. 

“I think I’m going to go home guys.” Jen and I both look at each other as if to say: really. 

“Audrey, the whole reason I came out was because of you.” I took her hand in mine and gave her a small smile. 

“Pacey can’t come out.” I now understood the change-up from her party mood, things between Pacey and Audrey have been strained to say at least. 

“I’m sorry, but we can still have fun, isn’t that right guys?” I called out to Jack and Jen. Jen grabs Audrey’s other hand. 

“Yeah, I want to forget my troubles like a typical college girl, dance on tables screaming ‘Whoo whoo’ and it will be all for nothing if I don't get reminded of it in ten years by you.” She gripped Audrey’s hand. 

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” I jump in excitement. 

“Yes! Okay, all hands in!” We all put our hands in. “1,2,3!” Our hands fly up in the air of the promise of a fun night.

The four of us were just walking to the party when I realized that I didn’t know where the party was. “Uh, guys, do we even know where the party is?” I asked out loud to the three of them. They all shrug their shoulders. “So we are just wandering around.” I laughed at the situation as we crossed the street. 

“Ohh…ohh! I think I know where the party is, I think it’s in that house down the alley next to that free food bin store.” I was puzzled by that. 

“Audrey, that's a grocery store. You are supposed to put the food in the little baggies and pay for them.” 

“Really?” She questioned when she was walking backward and then ran into someone. “Pacey?” 

The party was what you think a college party is, loud, bright, and dark somehow at the same time filled with tons of drunk people. Audrey was going on about how Pacey was not contributing anything to their relationship lately, especially tonight. 

“I’m sorry guys, we are supposed to be having fun tonight and I just keep on going.” I get up and put my hand on her shoulder. 

“It’s okay, I’ll get you some water.” She was already a little tipsy. I didn't want her to get worse. I knew it could, very easily, from my own experience.

“I’ll come too.” Jen got up and caught up with me. 

The bar was tiny and was half-assed by the frat boys that lived here. Lots of people were crowded around it of course. 

“Hi, can I get a beer,” Jen ordered for herself. 

“Water for me please,” I ordered. We turn and Jen comes in chest-to-chest with CJ, spilling her beer all over him. 

“Oh, my God. Look what l did.” she starts trying to rub it out. I give him a little wave and he nods back. 

“That's okay. it was my fault, really.” 

“Oh, no, jeez. You don't even– l mean, you're-- You don't even drink. Like Y/N. And I’m sure it's cold and smelly, and I’m touching you…and I’m gonna stop.” She pauses and just stands there for a second. “Hi. Okay. You caught me. I’m drunk. Yep, I’m a drunkard. Escaping reality. That's me. But you know what? This is a party… and at parties, people drink. And maybe that bothers you. Maybe you think it's weak. But you shouldn't go to a party where there's gonna be drunk people because that's what's gonna happen. Drinking. It’s just a party fact.” I wonder if she really thinks I think less of her because she drinks. 

“You think I’m the lamest person on the earth, don't you?” CJ countered.

“No. No. Not at all. I’m sure you're, like, tons of fun.” She bit back sarcastically. 

“Okay Jen, I think you need this water more than I do. Why don’t you go back to Audrey to check on her?” She grabs the water and walks back to our friends.

“I’m sorry CJ, that was my first time seeing her drunk as well.” I look at his shirt. “I know a trick to get that out.” I pointed at the beer. 

“That would be great.” We go to the bathroom. I open the cabinet and look for some hydrogen peroxide. 

“Um, can you take off your shirt?”  

“Sure.” He pulls it off so easily. I grab it and pour water and hydrogen peroxide on it. 

“So now we just wait thirty minutes and when you wash it the stain shouldn’t be there.” 

“Thanks.” 

“No problem. I just realized that this is the first party where we can use the sober buddy system,” I said. He gives me a smirk and grabs my cup giving it a sniff and a sip. 

“Yep, just like I thought- you’re good.” The silence was long but comfortable. “So how long have you been sober for?” He asked me. 

“For about two years, you?” He looks down into my cup. 

“Four years.” 

“Four years- wow, that is amazing! I can’t wait to get there.” He grabs my hand in silence. 

“You will.”

We had left the bathroom walking when I saw Jen arguing with someone on the steps upstairs. “Jen, what’s going on?” I ask with concern CJ right behind me. 

“This guy took Audrey upstairs and she’s about to pass out.” Adrenaline mixed with worry flooded my veins. 

“Move,” I said to the guy blocking us.

“Look, my friend is good, you don’t have to worry.” I’m about to pull out my inner Batman. 

“Then it won’t be a problem that we go check.” CJ shoved the guy aside. Jen and I practically run upstairs. Luckily the room was open. “Audrey let’s go.” I gently grabbed her hand and Jen took the other. At this moment, the promise that we would have fun tonight was broken.

“Hey let go!” The guy shoved me back into the wall to grab back onto Audrey. 

“Y/N!” Before he can do more CJ grabs him by the collar. 

“You want to try that again!?” The guy throws his arms up in truce CJ throws him on the bed. 

“You okay?” He helped me up. I nod trying to swallow my tears. 

“Let’s go.”

Unlike the earlier comfortable walk with CJ, this walk back to my dorm was filled with melancholic silence. Jen had gone to her grandma’s house but not before checking on me. 

“You sure you’re okay?” 

“I am, I'll call you tomorrow.” We hug.

I put Audrey in her bed and she fell asleep instantly. I get a glass of water and aspirin to put on her side table. I step outside the room to breathe and process and CJ is there. “Hey, you stayed.” I walk over to sit next to him. 

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” I wanted to hug him but I didn’t. 

“Thank you but I’ll be fine. About what happened tonight- I don’t want to think about what would have happened if I wasn’t there.” He puts his hand on my knee squeezing it. 

“Well, you were there, and again, you are a great friend.” I smile at that. 

“And thank you for your help.” 

“What kind of friend or sober buddy would I be if I didn’t?” I finally recognize that feeling I’ve been having: it’s of a true friend. 

[coffee-writesthings]

I may or may not have been feeling inspired-- might try to expand it into a proper fic later but this is more of a refined-ish idea dump. A fic of a fic (Taking Running Blind by @thetriggeredhappy and having a similar plot with different main characters. Congrats, your peer pressure worked! :))

Summary: Spy is blinded, and after an earnest attempt to hide it, Engineer and Sniper notice (not crossteam btw, tho that would be another cool angle). They try to help him as best they can. (It's those 3 being shipped together, since I have trio relationships on my mind lately cus i read this rly good book with one in it it's called Iron Widow you should go read it rn)

At the moment it's more like an organized-ish infodump that I might turn into a proper fic at some point

Okay so Spy going blind, I think he would still be able to see light but nothing else. It'd happen because of some sort of injury that Respawn couldn't cover for some reason and that leads to Medic and Engineer getting anxious as all hell about Respawn. Medic would make Engineer take breaks, and it's during these breaks that he is trying to help Spy deal with day-to-day stuff.

I think the first to notice would've been Sniper, honestly. Looking through a scope it's not hard to assume that his sorta-friend is struggling with backstabs for a reason he can't place. What's going on with the Spook?

It gets even more obvious when Spy's knife lands, not into someone's spine, but their shoulder. it still does damage, but it's not a backstab. he's killed immediately by Pyro who was nearby and he's still blind. He thought maybe respawn would fix it but no nothing was fixed. Fuck.

Since he can only perceive light, he has to hide out for the rest of the match, using his Cloak and Dagger to remain alive and make an excuse as to why he wasn't seen on the field. I think he would hide out with Sniper, trying his damndest to not give the game away.

It's in this next half-hour that he starts getting used to how loud everything else is, without the visual clutter to distract him. For some reason he hears the other team's Heavy nearby, and it tips him off that that's actually the other Spy, using a new tactic.

The knife sinks into Sniper's back easily, but he never expected the second spy (our pov spy) to pin him down and start stabbing wildly, finishing him off with a carefully aimed gunshot before returning to the shadows.

Once the match is over, he makes his way back to the base, using the light and large colored arrows he can process as a guide. All of this is under the guise of his cloak, so nobody notices.

Or, at least that was the plan. He manages to fall into the Engineer, knocking both of them over.

"Spy what the hell are you trying to pull?"

"That's not your business." is the lousy attempt at a coverup he gives. If he knew the only way he could tell who he was talking to was by the sound of his voice... that would be bad for him.

"Then get off me, will ya?"

He does so without making eye contact, he couldn't imagine what his eyes looked like at the moment but it couldn't be good (they probs look normal, if the research i've done is correct)

There isn't another battle for two weeks, so during that time he rests up and figures out some very basic echolocation so he can make his way around the base. it's better, in his mind, to look competent than it is to be hidden. So long as nobody can tell he has a problem, that's fine by him.

~~~

Engineer and Sniper get to talking, and find they both think something's up.

"You think his sight's gotten worse?"

"I can only tell ya what I saw mate, and I saw him swinging blindly. You've seen how his stabs usually are, they're point-perfect on that specific spot on everybody's spines! Just doesn't make any sense."

"He did trip over me... Kinda thought it was some short joke but, now that'cha bring it up, it's kinda suspicious."

"He'd never want us to notice."

Engie snorts, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure he'd rather die than admit he needs help."

"What do we do then?"

"We help him, whether he admits he needs it or not."

~~~

The first way they try to help him is subtle, reaaaaal subtle. Sniper asks to take him on a walk, holds his hand and tries to talk to him about that day's battle-- he's a bit blunt but he's got the spirit. Spy complains some, but doesn't really say anything substantial. He's actually surprisingly good at not getting off-track (i've been doing things with my eyes closed as an experiment and your steps can legit get wobbly), using sniper's voice as an anchor of sorts

~~~

Engineer takes the next attempt at getting him to open up, just sort of chilling together though. It's a normal thing they do every couple of weeks to de-stress after battles. Today he thought that it would be nice to watch a tv show together, and it's some history thing idk. He describes some of the images to him, which makes Spy feel a mix of thankful and scared about-- Did he notice something? And he confronts Engie on it, asking what's going on?

"It's been both you and Sniper, what do you think happened?"

"There's no think to it. He pointed it out to me-- you botched a buncha backstabs and it looked like somethin' happened.

"This stays between the two of you and me..." he proceeds to explain what he knows about what happened. He does admit that he is, in fact, blind. He explains that he can perceive changes in light but nothing else. "It's... something like closing your eyes, permanently."

Engie is conflicted, having very little of an idea how to care for someone having vision in a state like that. He's especially not sure what to do in terms of telling Medic for instance (since respawn didn't fix it like expected)

~~~

Still though, he tells Sniper about it after staying up all night doing research on like a million specifics about vision loss (causes, treatment, what to do if it can't be fixed, etc etc)

"Huh, so what can we do right now?"

"He's gonna be real concerned about visibility, so honestly our best bet might be teaching him echolocation."

"You're kidding me!" he lets out a wheeze of a laugh, "Spy, echolocating? Yeah right. By the way when was the last time you slept?"

Engineer responds, "uh, yesterday."

Sniper proceeds to herd him into bed like a border collie, doing everything up to and including a brief attempt to pick him up over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. Engineer blushes, maybe makes some joke about being a princess

~~~

So anyway they teach Spy how to echolocate (Sniper does, specifically, since he just forced Engineer to get some sleep).

Spy: 'this is a joke, right?"

Sniper: "do you want to do this without help or not? I don't see you being willing to get a white cane" (note: it's super good actually for figuring out ur surroundings and materials, i didn't think it would be as good as it looks but the way it works sounds really damn useful)

Over the next hour or so they do echolocation together, starting with simpler sets of noises (snapping, clicking of tongue, things like that) and then just walking and talking around the base. After a little bit, Spy is able to get a general idea (hehe i misstyped that at first to be gender. Spy is certainly able to get a gender alright) a general idea of the layout of the base. He can't really figure out the rooms without touch and counting the individual doors, and stairs are his worst enemy, but he can do the base mostly.

~~~

The next day is a CTF battle (completely spontaneous for some unknown reason) and Spy hangs out with the intel with Engineer (yknow what fuck it i'm being fancy this isn't 2fort it's Landfall, the foresty one), hoping that the administrator will just think he's having a bad day. They chat while Engie builds and tinkers, about all manner of things. Probably more about what Engie found and remembered in his research.

~~~

Anyway I've been sitting on this a few days, felt like sharing a collection of vibes which may someday be expanded. Btw writing this actually inspired me to take a different direction in an original work lol, I might try to share some of that in the future when I have proper snippets to share

[bellygunnr]

In the Grill

A continuation of " Blood on the Hood ".

The shadow of someone jogging across estate grounds at sub-five in the morning is almost enough to prompt Bonnie to pull over. She’s been here long enough to know the patterns-- the walking trails are less for use and more for show. The only folks up this early are the groundskeepers, cleaning crew, and her. She considers investigating for only a second. If it’s egregious, someone with a better paycheck than her will tell her. For now-- she has other things to worry about.

Like her job, and her dying boss, and the fact that she can already see lights on at her destination. She knocks her head back against the seat with a groan. Either someone beat her there, or someone stayed far too late, and she has an inkling as to who. A yellow Gremlin sitting in the glorified parking lot only confirms her suspicions. It’s with exasperation that she parks next to the little compact and shuts off her truck.

For a moment, all she does is stare past the hood and into the grounds. The Foundation headquarters is a baffling amount of territory. All she knows is she’s somewhere in the middle of it, with the lab and the test track. She climbs out onto the pavement before the ensuing silence grows too loud, lets the cool air ground her, and ducks inside with the swipe of her badge.

But she has to go down. She gives the elevator her retina scan and tries not to feel claustrophobic in the steel gray box. Harsh lights and freezing cold air greet her on the way out.

“April!” Bonnie calls.

Most of the lab is clean. Only a couple techs are in, which she throws looks at, but they’re not the target of her ire, so she blows past them to where a half-dismantled car dominates most of the floor space. Among it all, one woman sits, apparently triple-checking measurements.

“Dr. Curtis,” Bonnie tries again. “Good morning.”

April jumps.

“Oh, Bonnie! You’re here la-- right on time. I…”

April smiles sheepishly. She makes an aborted movement to run her fingers through her hair, which is too busy being clipped into a tight bun.

“Look, I was just trying to finalize some things… We have to completely refab the roof and pillars and I lost track of time. I can leave?”

“Finish up what you’re doing and sign out. You’ve been taking notes, right?”

Bonnie glances over at the vehicle. She decides not to question why only half of it had to be reconstructed-- not until she sees the documentation.

“Of course! Yeah, they’re in the usual place. I’ll kick out the others with me--”

Good, she thinks. KITT is too easily distracted when there’s more than a couple people in the lab, but she doesn’t tell April that.

“Thanks, April. And get some sleep-- I mean it. We’re not on crunch time yet and I don’t-- I don’t want everyone burning out.”

April’s expression softens, but her eyes narrow knowingly. “Then you need to lead by example, Dr. Barstow. I know what you’re doing! You’re not the only one who cares about this project.”

“I know I’m not,” Bonnie says, a touch too hot. “Anyway, have you seen anyone weird out on the grounds lately?”

Mercifully, April turns back to her work (though not quickly enough to hide an eye-roll). “You know? Yeah. I caught one of Mr. Knight’s guests snooping around a couple days ago. He-- she left pretty fast.”

Huh. Wilton never mentioned anything about that, but maybe that explained the measurements her team received a few days ago. The orders tied to the information had tacked tens of hours more onto their work. And Devon rarely knew enough to clarify anything…

She shakes her head.

Eventually, April and the others leave. At six sharp, KITT onlines, but doesn’t speak for a full two hours. An hour after that, the rest of the day team arrives and takes over much of the work.

---

She finds Wilton’s so-called esteemed guest in the bathroom. Or, more precisely, the esteemed guest finds her-- by shoulder-checking her with the door and bleeding from the head. Bonnie takes in their appearance in haphazard bursts. The heavily bandaged face, the shaved head, freckled skin all of the way down, dark pants and a tank top that sits low on the chest. And no bra, which is almost as pressing as the spots of blood dripping down the bridge of her nose.

“Wh-oh, this is occupied! Where’s the first aid kit?”

Her expression is hard to discern from the bandaging and scarring, but her tone is shocked, urgent, nervous. Bonnie shakes her head in disbelief and tries to look anywhere but the blood, nausea already making short work of what little she had for lunch.

“The door was locked,” Bonnie says instead, strained. “Why-- how--?”

“The nurse was coming and I panicked,” she says plainly. “You look a little pale. You good?”

Bonnie waves a hand dismissively and drops to her knees, blindly fumbling for the seam of the cabinet doors underneath the bathroom sink. They come loose with a hollow sound and she finds the medical supplies quickly, mostly because she’s had to use it before. It hadn’t been her brightest moment (and Devon had nearly fired her).

The woman reaches forward, but Bonnie swats the hands away.

“I’m not letting you re-dress your own bandages,” she says hotly. “Sit down.”

She’s a professional, god dammit.

“But—”

“I think you’d rather let me patch you up than get caught by Devon,” Bonnie says sternly.

She steels herself enough to make eye contact. The soft lighting catches the woman’s visible eye, drawing out an intense blue. It’s almost as distracting as her lifting placating hands and shimmying around to sit atop the toilet, teeth bared in a grin.

“I’m Michael,” the woman says.

She-- Michael-- thrusts out a hand. It’s covered in dust and wood shavings. Bonnie frowns down at it and the nitrile gloves she was just about to slip on.

“Or Michelle!” She amends, spreading her hands.

“Not... the problem. Michael’s a fine name. I’m Dr. Barstow.”

Bonnie winces a second after. Michael has a grin, now, and a calculating gleam in her eye that follows Bonnie through the process of examining the bloodied bandages. The detritus that’d covered her hands is on her scalp, too.

“The hell did you do?”

“Climbed out of a window, don’t worry about it. Say, who’s Devon?”

The blood doesn’t particularly smell like anything. It just gleams wetly and dries sticky and is a vivid red reminder of what lays under the skin. She swallows down a wave of nausea. At least Michael has the decency to remain quite still, even tilting her head this way and that when Bonnie asks.

“…Wrong question, uh?” Michael continues on, blithe as anything. “Is it bad, doc? Am I dyin’?”

Jesus. Bonnie shakes her head, surprised to feel a bubble of laughter against her throat. The world spins a little in protest.

“I’m not a medical doctor,” she says. “And if climbing out of a window with a head wound didn’t kill you…”

“Either you will or nothing can,” Michael finishes solemnly. “Got it. You almost done?”

Michael bobs her head in tune with her little joke and drums her fingers across her thighs. Bonnie barely resists giving her an admonishing swipe, directing the energy into finishing the bandages.

She leans back, pulling off the gloves and throwing them into the trash. Now disinfectant sits heavy in the back of her throat. The world rolls languidly. Yeah, maybe she overestimated herself this go around. But Michael’s sheer presence raises more questions than it answers, and Bonnie doesn’t like leaving things unanswered.

Who is she? Why is she injured-- why did she climb out of a window? If she’s here, in the estate, how does she not know Devon? Maybe she’s Knight’s daughter, but-- he doesn’t have any children. Does he?

Bonnie looks down at Michael and her nervous energy critically.

Michael’s palms dig into the tops of her knees while her fingers drum a pattern. Her visible eye moves around, clearly picking out the full depth of the bathroom and the distance from the door. A low-level tension simmering underneath the skin makes toned muscle jump out-- and she’s already a good head over Bonnie.

“Where do you plan on going after this?” Bonnie asks.

Michael blanches. She rocks back and forth, tongue running across chapped lips.

“Well, I was lookin’ for the kitchen, the first go around…”

“Funny. I was just about to go on lunch break,” Bonnie says, suddenly thoughtful.

Granted, she doesn’t feel like eating now. But something tells her it’d be best to keep Michael in her sights rather than let her gallivant around. Plausible deniability and all that.

Michael’s brow pulls forward. Her head cocks to the side, tracking Bonnie intently.

“My truck’s out in the front,” Bonnie says casually. “Can’t miss it, it’s ugly as sin. Meet me out there and I’ll be right behind you.”

Her face lights up-- she cottons on fast and vaults toward the door, slamming it shut behind her. The stone-and-tile bathroom echoes for a long moment with the sound.

Hopefully the truck isn’t locked, because Bonnie spends the next ten minutes hurling and cleaning up.

[caterpillarinacave]

I love Charlotte and Henry and they're super underrated. And I would VERY MUCH like to hear the headcanons whirring about in your brain.

Oh well buckle up cause literally all I think about is head cannons. Like, you know how cells replace themselves every few years? Mine have replaced themselves with head cannons. *Sorry it took me a hot moment to answer this ask, I was busy howling into my pillow whenever I tried to articulate thoughts.*

First of all, they’re very cuddly. They basically sleep on top of each other (Charlotte hasn’t needed a pillow in decades). Henry cant sleep well without Charlotte in his arms and Charlotte can’t sleep well anywhere other than Henry’s arms so it works out. Plus, they both do that thing where they jerk awake like the world is ending and scare the shit out of each other, so sleeping in a hug that basically pins them both down saves some energy at 2am. Henry’s perpetually cold and sleeps under like, four blankets, so Charlotte just wears summer nightgowns all year and wraps herself around Henry like a koala.

Naturally there’s an angsty side to the incessant cuddling because that’s just the way I role.

Charlotte sleeps with her head on Henry’s chest so she can always feel him breathing because, by the angel, she remembers when he wasn’t. She sleeps with a hand on his pulse point because she wakes up in the middle of the night and she’s still half asleep they might as well be on the floor in that mountain and she might as well still be desperately swearing she didn’t imagine his heartbeat.

While on the topic of soul crushing feelings of guilt, y’all remember from Clockwork Angel that Henry was the one who told Mortmain what a Pyxis was? And he wanted Charlotte to tell the clave that and she wouldn’t because “they already treat him so badly”? Because I do. And so does Henry.

(I’ve got a whole WIP that I love very dearly about this head cannon and this chess game hehe) There’s one random old tutor who goes to the London institute once a month-ish, basically to hand out a few weeks of homework to any shadow hunters who don’t have their own tutors. Most shadow hunters who live in a more rural area show up a few times a year so the clave knows they’re alive and at least somewhat literate. Charlotte attends them every month since, you know, she lives there, but Henry lives somewhere around Yorkshire so he shows up every few months. The professor is kind of a dick ngl. He doesn’t help Charlotte with any school why would a woman need to be so well educated? “Go on find a husband and stop worrying you’re pretty little head” sort of shit. Henry drives him insane because he’s a) some random kid who’s smarter than him and b) didn’t use any of the professors materials to get that smart. Professor Douche is constantly trying to get him to be wrong about something, or at least flustered about something and he doesnt ever do either of those things, and even more aggravating he refuses to get upset. (He honestly just assumed the professor wasn’t that smart.)

Charlotte’s a really good student of course, but she’s having a shit time with some mathematics and the professor absolutely refuses to help her with it. Eventually she asks Henry if he wouldn’t mind helping her with it, which he’s happy to do (once he figures out that’s what shes actually asking lol.)

Charlotte is incredibly distracted the entire time by Henry’s freckles (and eyes. And hands. And the way his hair curls on the nape of his neck. And the spots of gold and green in his hazel eyes that flashed as bright as the sun when the light catches them. And-), but they get through it in an hour or two which leaves them alone in a deserted wing of the institute. They end up playing a game chess. Charlottes a decent player and thought since Henry had never showed any interest in chess it would be a probably be an evenly matched game. She didn’t know what hit her. He beat her in like, eight minutes, eighty percent of which were spent on the last two moves by Charlotte who, upon realizing she was fucked, spent five minutes staring at the board trying to figure out when he even started beating her. She was sitting there having a whole crisis, (she’d been distracted by a man who probably doesn’t like her, and certainly doesn’t think much of her now after a pathetic loss like that and now she’ll have to sit hear and wallow in failure-) just preparing for him to start that whole smug gloating thing men do when they win and Henry you know. Didn’t. He just put the pieces away and thanked her for the game, in that very genuine way, with the gloomy London evening light casting a depressing shadow across the room, a shadow that he stood out against all gentle, kind, bright and brimming with a sort of barely contained passion. If Charlotte had ever doubted that shadow hunters had come from straight angels then sitting there, looking at a boy stained in soot, who she loved more than anything else to walk the earth, she would never doubt it again.

(It wasn’t until after Henry won and noticed Charlotte hadn’t said anything in a while that he remember people don’t like losing. Honestly he was playing just to be around her and he would have thrown the game if he could conceptualize how to do that on the fly. They spent like five minutes in autistic silence waiting for the other to stand up and declare newfound hatred.)

In true British fashion the a modern tea bag would kill them both.

When they were both 13 or 14 Charlotte mentioned she was dreading winter because it’s so bleak and dark (and her mom had died a few winters before, though she didn’t drop that in casual conversation). Anyways, come winter Henry brought her a marigold preserved in something like resin. She kept it in her jewelry box for years and after they got married she found out he had literally dozens of them. Whenever he came across a particularly bright flower he preserved it and set it aside. He was never quite brave enough to give them to her pre-TID, but he now leaves them for her when she’s particularly sad or stressed. She keeps them all in a drawer- they fit together like little tiles, and still look as fresh as they would had they just been plucked from the ground.

Somewhat surprisingly Henry doesn’t really lose stuff, with the singular exception being his own medical equipment. He’s lost the leg braces he wears every single day of his life before. Charlotte’s not usually speechless but she wasn’t sure what to say to that one.

Henry gave Charlotte a watch with a hands and numbers that can glow the same way a modern day one would. It’s absolutely beautiful, durable and accurate, even if Henry set himself on fire at least four times making it. (They can say with confidence that that watch is fireproof)

—-

Honestly, I could go on and on, then on some more, but technically I’m supposed to be writing a paper on gut micro biomes that’s due tomorrow, so I figured I’d cut myself of. In conclusion, I love them dearly, they love each-other dearly, they deserve the world, all I can think about is them, and the world can pry them out of my cold dead hands.

[zarvasace]

Vidow Animatic Thoughts (pt 1)

I shall detail thought process etc. let’s go. It’s long. Under cut. Hit tumblr max image upload so this is three parts.

part 1 // part 2 // part 3

Animatic can be found here

Program: procreate dreams (it’s clunky but it works). This whole video took me something like 8 hours? Over the course of uhhh three days? Pretty quick.

Introduction

This is my first ever animatic, so when I began, I wanted to keep it simple. I chose my favorite pencil brush and like three colors (I later added one for emphasis). I had a couple specific scenes in mind, and I knew how I wanted the progression to go, but I winged most of it, shot by shot. The song does a good job of building up with a sort of three-act structure, so.

I referenced the castle from Breath of the Wild, but I didn’t stress too much about the details. The plan was to make it sketchy and quick. The beginning is mostly just things moving across the screen. I think that works, though, setting up the angsty mood and giving me room to expand later on. The first shot with Vio’s face is sort of meant to be a fake-out: you’re looking at him, but no he’s looking at a mirror, which is obvious when it cracks. Not sure if that came across but the cracks are very cool anyway.

This is also the first time you see white, which sort of represents change/time through the whole thing.

And then we see the first of Shadow, and he has his own color: black. He's a real drawing here (rather than black smoke or something) mostly to establish that black=Shadow.

Not much to say about the next bit, with the door and stuff dropping, I just wanted to make it clear that we’re in Vio’s bedroom at the end of a day.

And then he’s being dramatic about getting in bed. Mostly just to show that he’s tired and Haunted. Also I think it does work in establishing that this isn’t really Shadow’s doing. Whether or not he’s actually there doesn’t matter, because it’s Vio who thinks he does, and we’re seeing this from Vio’s perspective. He’s the one who can’t let Shadow go, so whether Shadow is actually haunting him like a ghost doesn’t matter.

Verse 1

SO first off, Vio is sad and has bad dreams. Well, good dreams. They're good, but they make him sad. Shadow shows up in black again, definitely part of the dream (further blurring the line between reality and delusion). Vio's in white in his dream, which doesn't happen anywhere else. If white represents change, then this is Past Vio, or the Vio That Vio Wishes He Was But Isn't. It's definitely memories of some kind, though, because white Vio's hair is short, where normal Vio has a long braid throughout.

We only see Shadow as more than an influence (by that I mean a shadow, a flash, a feeling) a few times, and this is the first. His presence is stronger in dreams and weaker in the reality that Vio lives in.

But the sun comes up and Vio is actually alone. White is the sun/light a lot here, meaning that time is passing. Vio's still brooding. (I really like that little "in the heat of the day" shot, the glint is in Vio's lower eyes which may hint at tears, but it's definitely not obvious yet.) I don't particularly LOVE that drawing of Vio braiding his hair, but it gets the point across. He can't stop thinking about Shadow, even as he goes about his day.

Chorus 1

This part hammers that in: Vio CAN'T stop thinking about Shadow and wallowing in his memories, it's driving him to distraction and failure. He's not moving on. It's right there in the lyrics: "I can never let you go." There's a reference to evil root beer as he's eating, distracted from Red (hi Red!) right beside him. He feels guilty, and can't shoot arrows without imagining himself hurting Shadow more. He still half-expects Shadow to be there for his discoveries. He feels watched, like Shadow should be there all the time, even when he isn't doing anything. He's brooding. Broody boy.

Interlude

Broody boy continues. Important: when he's walking to his room/the library/wherever books are, he's going right to left. I studied a couple videos of walk cycles to get those feet right, and they still aren't right, but I'm still impressed with myself! Also, apparently I now have a mental library of Gothic Windows. I thought that was a fun shot. Vio sure sighs a lot.

Verse 2

This verse is ramping things up and preparing for the turn.

"Nothing ever changes, so I've learned." I feel like this is quite a Vio statement to make. I don't think it's perfectly applicable—in this post-canon-adjacent AU, clearly the four of them are still separate people, which would be quite a change, but for Vio? I think it means that he's maybe a little upset that nobody else is grieving to the point of distraction. People are going about their lives, but every single step Vio takes is shadowed. (ba dum tish.)

The flower was a spur-of-the-moment decision, since I wanted something in the spot where the book was and didn't really want to just draw vague smoke again. But it ended up being thematic and calling back to a later moment in the video. And maybe it hints that Shadow might be showing his approval that Vio is at least trying to do what he loves (that is, reading books.)

And Vio's back in his room, surrounded by books. He's tried so hard to forget. He doesn't look particularly interested in what he's reading, and we know why. I tried to frame that "to forget" shot in a way that looks like he might be drowning in his own ambition, like he has all these books and he's just desperate that one of them will distract him or be a replacement for Shadow's influence in his life, which is quickly growing to dangerous levels...

Did Vio actually see Shadow here? Well, once again, it doesn't matter, because Vio thinks he did, thinks so hard that he throws himself to the ground. It doesn't injure him, but it doesn't take a fortune-teller to imagine that he might do something truly reckless if this keeps going. And Vio sees that, I think, here. He realizes that what he sees might not be real. He's in the "dark night of the soul" here, and actually cries, which is a big deal for his character. It's just two tears—white, if you'll notice—but it represents his hitting rock-bottom.

"And you've never loved me once" is maybe not the right line for this, I considered changing it to "you only loved me once" but I eventually decided to keep the line as it is in the song so there's minimal dissonance for the viewer. The song's story isn't quite the same as the one I'm pulling out here, but this line is the turning point in the song's story and in mine.

(continued in part 2!)

[novel-sugar]

“I’M IN LOVE WITH AN ANIMATRONIC BALLERINA!?” Chapter. 2

SFW Fluff of a gender neutral reader taking the helm as protagonist of SL and falling in love with Ballora! This is chapter 2

The following day felt like a blur knowing that you would have to go back to work later that night. You spent most of the day sitting on the couch watching TV, trying to get the dream from last night out of your head. No matter how hard you tried to distract yourself with what was on the screen, the image of Ballora dancing in the purple landscape was still burned into your brain. Fed up with the ballerina imagery that refused to leave you alone, and coming to terms with your crush, you decided that the best thing to help you get some closure would be to write a letter to your fictional girlfriend (with no intent on letting anyone see it). You walked over to your bedroom and dug around for a stray notebook you usually used to help you keep track of your finances, it definitely wasn't being used for keeping track of grocery costs today. "Dear Ballora, I'm sorry about shocking you yesterday. A woman as pretty as you shouldn't have to go through something like that, you don't know me and I don't really know you. But I don't think I would mind if we ever did get the chance to."  Relief surged with every word you penned on the paper, feeling satisfied with what you wrote you decided the only thing left to do would probably be to throw it out or burn it. As you tore the page from the book, your eyes caught a glimpse of the alarm clock next to your bed. Realizing you were going to be late for work, you stuffed the "letter" into your jeans pocket without thinking and put on your best shirt before scrambling out the door in a panic.

After another long elevator ride filled with banter from your automated guide, you once again found yourself standing in the Primary Control Module. Handunit (with the voice of an angsty teen due to a misclick on the elevator tablet) like before, instructed you to check the lights in Ballora Gallery once again. Still feeling a bit of hesitation like last time, but knowing what to expect, you pressed the blue button on the control panel. Ballora wasn't on her stage like before, you had no idea where she could be and just how big her room even really was. You spent a few seconds trying to pinpoint her location or at least a sign for where she could be, feeling like a kid at a zoo. You noticed something in the corner of your eye, what seemed to be a tall black mass in front of the glass. Your heart sank once you realized that she had been standing directly in front of you the entire time, hidden in shadow. You flung yourself away from the window in fear, squeaking like a scared puppy. Once that embarrassing moment was over, you went to press the button for a controlled shock. You stopped yourself, the thought of Ballora possibly being in any sort of pain prevented you from pressing the button, only after reassuring yourself that she was just an inanimate object did you press it. Dead silence followed once you pushed the button, you tried pressing it again, still no response. Despite something being very wrong, Handunit redirected you to Funtime Foxy's window asking you to do the same as before as if everything worked as intended. Like Ballora, Foxy was off of his? her? their stage but you managed to spot them near the window a lot quicker than you did Ballora. "Great." Handunit said in an unrecognizably distorted voice, before repeating itself for a few more times. Handunit's voice returned to normal explaining that it had a problem with the alternate voice options and for you to press on to Baby's room. Little did you know that tonight would change everything you thought you knew about these characters.

There you found yourself crawling through Ballora Gallery in the pitch black darkness. The past half hour or so had you questioning your sanity non-stop. One minute you were standing in Circus Control like normal, next minute you're fending off creepy baby dolls under a desk and taking advice from a 7'2" lady clown. You weren't sure if you could fully trust Baby, but given how she had helped you survive the Bidybabs, you felt like there really was no other option. There's NO way animatronics should be able to do what you saw, or talk to you the way they have. It all felt like a nightmare, one that you REALLY wished you could wake up from, or some kind of elaborate joke being played on you by your coworkers, but no; this was all VERY real. Baby had instructed you to do the exact opposite of what Handunit advised and to instead crawl slowly through Ballora's room to get to the breakers and restore power to the building. It made enough sense given Ballora's design seemed to always have her eyes shut, naturally, moving fast would generate noise for her to pick up on. Despite the perilous predicament you found yourself in, you felt almost glad to have a chance to get closer to Ballora (even if she was as dangerous as Baby made her out to be) dare you say, thrilling even. You could hear a music box on the far right of the room, the catalogue did mention that Ballora could play her own music during dance routines and now you'd be using it as your way of keeping track of her position. Eerily enough, it sounded exactly like the music you heard in your dream the night before. Ironic given the circumstances.

             The next few minutes were spent in an anxiety inducing cycle of inching your way across Ballora Gallery by crawling flat on your stomach and stopping any time you could hear Ballora draw near. Little by little you could see the door to the breaker room slowly grow larger in the distance as you drew closer. It looked like a sanctuary in the distance, like an oasis in the middle of a blistering desert, leaving you with a sense of relief until you heard Handunit's voice blare through the auditorium speakers: "It seems you are taking a long time. Please proceed as quickly and as quietly as possible.”  Your heart jumped into your throat. Damn thing nearly gave you a heart attack and worse it probably just alerted Ballora. With that in mind you'd have to pick up the pace(as quick as you could be at least). You were a good ways past the half way point and the door was so close you could already make out the shape of the handle, nothing could ruin this moment . . . except of course Ballora spinning right in front of you.  She was still shrouded in the darkness of the room, but you could just barely make out her features in the dim light that hung above the breaker room door. Her beauty was mesmerizing, the mixed feelings from the first night came back ten times as strong. You felt terrified but at the same time, excited being able to see her so up close and in her element. Her blue "hair" was tied back in a neat bun with a silver pearl tiara on top of her head that glistened in the pale light, you could see the tutu around her waist twirling around on it's own as she spun. Seeing her beauty in person, even in such a dire situation, made your dream from last night feel like nothing special. A part of you wanted to greet her, but given the likely outcome it was for the best to refrain. "Would she really want to talk with someone who tased her like a wild animal?" you thought to yourself, feeling an immense amount of guilt over the night before. Reality felt like it was falling apart with the revelation, but there was no denying Ballora was a sentient being with her own thoughts and emotions. You had become so caught up in your own thoughts and emotions you had failed to notice sooner that she left as quickly as she came, her music growing fainter and fainter in the distance.

With the encounter over, you slowly stood up and placed a hand on the door knob. On the breaker room's door was another poster, this time of a familiar face (kinda). It was none other than Freddy Fazbear himself, but not the one you remember growing up with as a kid. This version of the bear was all white with purple accents instead of brown and had a noticeably smaller muzzle, but the biggest change of this incarnation was the inclusion of a small handpuppet version of Bonnie where his right hand should be. It was kinda strange how one of the main characters from previous versions was nothing more than a toy this time around you thought to yourself. After doing a double take behind your back to make sure Ballora wasn't close, you carefully opened the door and stepped into the breaker room. One sequence of events involving resetting the power while keeping Funtime Freddy at bay later, you stepped out of the room exhausted and rattled. You couldn't tell what was more burned into your brain, the bear's shrill voice calling for you while he searched around the room or his high pitched puppet telling him to go back to sleep or that the noise was because of mice. All that mattered was you survived and once you made it out of here this nightmare would be over, that is, after crawling through Ballora Gallery a second time. The cycle of crawling and listening for the music box began anew, only now you really didn't hear her this time around. You weren't sure if whether that was a good thing or not. The tension felt even higher than the last time you did this (something you didn't think was possible). Just the thought that you could run into her at any minute and with no way to anticipate it sent chills all over your body. If you had to guess, she must've gone back to her stage for the time being and was resting(?).  After several minutes, you began to relax ever so slightly as the vent to the control module drew ever closer, right as you were starting to feel optimistic you heard a sickening *crunch*. The "letter" from earlier had slipped out from your jeans pocket and ended up under your knee, flattening it. It startled you enough to the point that you might have yelped in surprise if the situation wasn't so dire. Which it would be soon.

"Is someone there?" a feminine voice called out, much to your horror. That voice couldn't belong to anyone else but Ballora and once again you found yourself entranced by her, despite being in a perilous position where one small mistake would spell out certain death. And yet, you found yourself wanting to call out to her, to answer the woman's question, to just have a chance to speak with her even for a moment. Her soft, soothing voice spoke again, "I can hear someone creeping through my room." Resisting the temptation, you wisely held your tongue and stayed silent for what felt like a minute or two (maybe 3 for good measure) before pressing forward leaving the crumpled paper behind in your haste. Much to your relief, Ballora lost interest not long afterwards. "Perhaps not." the ballerina's words echoed through the room one last time before you slid yourself inside the vent's entrance leading to your sanctuary on the other side. "Good night Ballora" you said to yourself quietly as you worked your way through the vent walls. The vent doors automatically shut behind you once you slid back into the control module, signifying that your venture was a success. With your tasks done for the night, HandUnit gave the all clear to return home. You nearly cried hearing those sweet, sweet AI generated words. The nightmare was over . . . for now at least.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, you made it to your front door. After fiddling with the lock & key in total darkness for a few seconds, the door opened and you quickly made your way inside (after doing a double take just to make sure none of your coworkers possibly followed you home). Slamming the door shut, you slumped downward and let your back rest against the door as the weight of the world finally caved in. You felt like you had just stepped out of a warzone and could only stare blankly at the carpet in front of you, just one night ago you were enjoying yourself at a new job where everything seemed normal and absolutely nothing could go wrong. Now here you were having to come to grips with the fact that children's entertainment robots were fully sentient and ENTIRELY capable of killing you at any given opportunity like some sort of syrupy sweet Terminator. The world seemed to spin around as you slowly stood up, after getting your bearings your first instinct was to run over to the kitchen sink and vomit. With that out of your system, it was time for bed. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't get any sleep that night. You'd spent most of the night staring up at the ceiling, anytime you managed to close your eyes and rest you'd wake up not long after in a cold sweat. The experiences from tonight were still so fresh in your mind that any attempt to sleep was hindered by nightmares about animatronic bears or being trapped under a desk while baby dolls tried to pry their way in. And then there were dreams about Ballora. Despite her being just as deadly as the others, your brain just couldn't conjure up any kind of horrific imagery and at worst you just found yourself back in her gallery, crawling through the darkness. If there was one thing you were to say was nice to have experienced though, it was getting to actually see Ballora up close and hear her voice for the very first time even if for only a few moments. Eventually you gave up on sleep and decided to just to spend the rest of the night watching tv on the couch. There wasn't much on at this hour, news, documentaries, reruns of shows that ended decades ago. You eventually settled for some crappy, cheaply animated soap opera about a vampire and a woman. Anything to get your mind off of work and the fact that you would have to go back at some point. After an episode or two, something about it stuck with you despite it's (lack of) production value. The idea of a vampire, an eldritch monster being able to fall in love with a normal suburban woman just filled you with such a strong sense of hope and desire. When you first realized your crush for Ballora, you thought you were crazy but now, knowing that she was a truly living being that while dangerous, still had her own hopes, fears, dreams, and a soul, it made you start wondering; maybe it could work?

[tetsunabouquet]

Basic Instinct Part 4

A/N: So if I’m not doing my homework, I am catching up on my writing schedule. FINALLY, part 4 is here and we get to the parents having no boundaries part, so be warned. Overprotective daddy mode has been activated, as well as roast mode. Masaomi just seems like that kind of douche.  Masterpost Akashi Masaomi had always believed himself to be above these kind of actions, but here he was, trailing in the shadows after his son. His son, who was according to his butler's reports going to meet the person he was texting. He spied, as he saw his son's face light up at the sight of a h/c haired girl. "Akashi-san!" You chirped, your face as bright and happy as his son's. You looked happy to see his son in a genuine way, he'd give you that, but your attire alone revealed your commoner status, which Akashi senior wasn't very happy with. Ah well, he could better suck it, as Fate would say.  Because Akashi Seijuro's heart was pounding so loudly he feared it would break through his ribcage. He thought you looked so beautiful, you had chosen the correct colours that suited you and brought out your eyes. He loved the way their colour were standing out more vividly in your sweet face. "I'm so happy you want to help me shopping. I really have no clue what kind of sheet music my cousin would like for his birthday." You said, looking at him like he was your savior. "It's no problem. It was a good idea to think of gifting him sheet music. It's definitely a gift a musician could appreciate." Akashi said, trying to subtly hint at the fact he'd also appreciate such a gift from you if you ever were in the need or position to gift him something. Just the idea made his blush- when he was alone at least, he tried not thinking about these things too much in front of you, scared he'd betray himself. He wanted to confess to you, but not yet. Not when you were reaching out for help with your cousin. You trusted him to give advice and his honest opinion, he did not wish to get distracted with his own feelings whilst doing so. "So, how's your day been so far?" You asked as you headed into the direction of the music store. "Hmm, well it was pretty quiet. My father left for business earlier." You sighed. "It sucks when your only parent is constantly with their minds at work, doesn't it?" "Yeah," he breathed. He loved how you understood, even though he wished a happier life for you. It almost made him feel guilty, the way he felt so relieved whenever you echoed how he felt. You rubbed his shoulder with sympathy before you slid into the store, Akashi behind you. Masaomi was staring at a distance, his eyes locked on the shop. 'I could buy that entire place. There are far better shops with more valuable instruments. If Seijuro needs anything, he could just ask me instead of degrading himself to a lowly commoner and shopping so ordinarily.' It must be you. He wondered if his boy was trying to impress this commoner girl. 'Shiori had status. This girl is not nearly as worthy of my Seijuro, or have his fancy of her compared to our love.' After about a half hour, thanks to Akashi, you had found some Mozart you figured your cousin would enjoy. You smiled as you purchased the gift, happy he had came along to help. "You're really a life saver, Akashi-san!" "Please, do call me Seijuro. We're friends." He insisted, who was secretly dying to get on first name basis with you. You giggled joyfully and replied, "okay, if that's what you wish Seijuro-san!" His heart skipped a beat with the way your name rolled off of your tongue. "Yes, and I can call you Y/n-san, right?" You nodded, and a bright smile broke out on his face. "Great. Can I treat you to lunch?" He asked, courteously but warm. "Actually, I had something in mind!" You chirped, and started rummaging through your bag. "Perhaps it's better if we find a place to sit..." you muttered. Akashi was instantly curious, and guided you to the nearest benches located at the nearby square. 'Did she actually brought something to eat for us? Did she make it herself? Do I get to taste her self-made food for the first time?' Thoughts were racing, and he tried to contain his excitement at the idea of getting to taste his crush's home-made food. As you sat down, you pulled out a small plastic sack, and looked at him with expecting, hopeful eyes. "I know we've only been friends as of recent, but when I though of asking your help I realized I did forget your birthday the other week." That took an unexpected turn. "You're gifting me something for my birthday?" He asked breathlessly. "Well, its just a bunch of muffins I baked. I don't really know that much about what you like yet, and I figured anything I could buy is something you could buy a dozen off, so I just settled for birthday muffins." You babbled slightly, the look on your face growing more nervous per second. There was no reason to be nervous, however, considering Akashi felt besides himself with joy at the thought you baked him muffins as a belated birthday present. You sheepishly pulled them out. They were the type that were multi-coloured through the means of cheap food coloring. All of them were an orange-red, with dark green symbols that as Akashi tried to decipher, he realized must be kanji. "The kanji is a bit unreadable, what does it say?" He asked, curiously. You almost seemed to shrink on your seat, mumbling, "It didn't turn out as well as I hoped. I tried imitating the kanji for Shogi pieces. You like Shogi, don't you?" 'Shogi themed muffins?' You might as well have stolen and broke his heart simultaneously. They weren't perfect like how his cook would have made them, but they were baked with so much consideration and care. It reminded him of his mother, the only person who'd put such loving thought in his meals. At that moment, Fate did not know who to pity more. The girl about to burst into tears because she was so terrified of being a failure after years of abuse, or the boy about to burst into tears because he hadn't known such consideration since the death of his only emotionally healthy parent. With both of their eyes shining with tears, Akashi thanked you. "I've seldomly received baked goods from the people close to me. I'll treasure this experience." You let out a small puff of breath out of relief, and smiled with so much kindness it made him blush, ever so slightly. How were you actually real? Because as far as Akashi is concerned, this feels more like a good dream he had forbidden himself to dream a long time ago. Akashi ate your muffins, each bite filling him with so much warmth, he couldn't fathom how he had ever thought so highly of his cook. This, was a way more satisfying meal. Because it was made from the heart. Your heart. It was his turn to feel sheepish once he realized he ate them all without offering you one. "Now you've got nothing to eat. I apologize." "It's okay, they were meant for you." You said, your smile only ever seeming to get sweeter and brighter for some unexplainable reason. 'Kami-Sama truly gave her a smile like the sun. It just gets brighter and warmer the more I look at it.' "Still, I owe you lunch. Let me get you something." Akashi insisted. You giggled in return, your smile still as bright and charming. "I'd like to refuse as you already bought a meal for me once, but I don't think you'll accept no for an answer." "No, I won't." Akashi returned the smile with full confidence, and offered you his arm. You kept giggling as you hooked yours on his, both of you clearly giddy. Exactly as Fate intended, foreseeing the joy that awaited you. Masaomi on the other hand, was retreating. He had seen enough. As much as he found the idea of his son dating a commoner a blasphemy to the Akashi family name, he too, could see the similarity with the muffins and Shiori's old cooking. That happy, proud look you had in your eyes as he enjoyed those muffins, was exactly the look Shiori would have when watching her family eat her food. 'A discount version of my Shiori...Hmmph'. (Masaomi, don't roast reader-chan too badly, you toxic, classist douche)

[andywinter16]

Disguised glaives saving their SO + Noctis retinue part. 1

“Glaives! We have a hostage situation that´s posing as diplomatical visit .” All the glaives quickly assembled in the main hall. “ Our targets are Prince Noctis and his whole retinue with Y/N Y/S.” Your glaive eyes were wide with a shock.  “ Squadrons Delta and Omega, at 6 pm we´re rolling out with the Crownguard.” Titus turned to our glaives team. “ Squadron Alpha, you will infiltrate the banquet disguised as dancers. At my signal, we will make distraction for you to take them to the safety. Nelly, show them their disguises and brief them further. That is all.” Nelly signaled glaives to come with her. “ We have one hour to dress you, two and half hour to make you presentable and another three to teach you how to dance.”  Nelly nonchalantly pointed on the other side. “ And those are the dresses you will wear.”  Somebody behind her cursed. “You´re fucking kidding me ...”

This may be the biggest challenge in their carriers yet.

--

“ We want you to present Titussinia´s Company which hails from mysterious Galadh as they entertain us with their bewitching dances.” said Olvo Trigolas, one of the higher ups from Niflheim, the slimy man holding our group hostage. The lights were dimmed around them, and on the stage came the dancers. Wait a damn minute, your eyes almost fell off when your gaze lingered on one of the figures.

Nyx Ulric:

And there he was in the revealing black dress. Winking seductively your way when he moved his body in synch with the music. The dress was flowing with his movements, enchanting the audience in the proccess.  Those Niff people touched him inaproprietly, when he slowly made his way to your table. Nyx internally cringed behing his veil at that. Just a few more minutes, he thought. He swayed in the crowd, till he finally get to you and occupants of your table. He went in to your lap to give you a dance and gave you little kiss through his veil while he whispered to your ear. “Be ready, in two minutes there will be hell raised.” He then flirtaiously winked at Prince´s retinue, yet his eyes were serious. No one would hurt them under his watch. He then turned to the Olvo Trigolas. Nyx put on more seductive moves, when he got closer to the man. The man in question was unsuspecting it will be his last breath. Nyx pulled our his scarf and wrapped it around the man´s neck in flirting manner. Until Nyx swiftly tightened the scarf and choked the man. Meanwhile around them started chaos. Someone threw smoke screens inside and other disguised glaives draw their weapons.  He rolled his eyes at the retinue who was looking at him with awe. He also saw how you were checking him out in the drag, he would have teased you about it if the situation wasn´t dire. “I know, I slayed it in the outfit. Now, let´s go or you get killed!” 

Luche Lazarus:

Grace. Beauty. Dignity, which was Luche lacking. His dress was pretty revealing and wasn´t much cooperating to his dismay. Every time he spinned or bended the dress showed more of the skin. And  the catchcalling started, Luche wanted punch someone pretty hard. But he had to soldier on, he had mission for fuck´s sake. So he focused on you, his target. Even though he felt embarassed deep down to his core. Getting you and Highness out of there safely was still his number one priority. He could see Libertus and Axis creating distraction with their musical number. (Luche didn´t know that Libertus could sing opera that well. He noted for himself that he should tease the big man about it a little ... just a little) He quickly sticked to the shadows and went to the closer balcony. There were no guards, their comrades already disposed of them. Luche notices the black case which was tied with pink ribbon. Luche shaked his head, he knew exactly who did it and he would have a word with them. He fastly opened it and there  was a new model of sniper rifle. Okay, maybe he can forgive them ... this time. “Aren´t you a beauty?” Luche cooed at the gun. He prepared the weapon almost giddily and went in the position. In the viewfinder he saw the ugly official Trigola drinking his wine. Luche pulled the trigger, and the gun silently fired. After that It was a utter chaos in which  Crowe and Sonitus had to escort you out. Luche then  shadowed your group and made sure no one tried to ambush you.

[aspenforest732]

Bello Licentiae Chapter 7: Try Their Hardest to Make People Happy

Summary:

tw: switching (DID), falling from high up, torture mention, blackmail mention 'text' JSL Text thoughts

Akira rested their head against the counter as they waited for their meds to kick in, the blender grating against their pounding headache. A torturous minute later, they poured their smoothie and wheeled back to the closest table. Little more to the left— no, not that far. Back, right, scoot. Akira reangled themself a few times, bumping into the cabinets as they got used to how much space their wheelchair took up and how to make smaller adjustments on the fly. They could use the touchpad, but... they'd eventually need to operate it without electronics one way or another.

They pulled up the video Dabi had sent them late the previous night of Twice walking through how he currently used his quirk and how he learned to do it. I should have half an hour before Katsuki comes down .

Akira raised an eyebrow at Twice casually leaning, posing in a rumpled light blue suit and his costume mask. "Your first step is to know yourself!" he started with a flourish.

"That's important for anyone, but especially with Stranger quirks. I don't remember much from when I was a singlet, but I'm pretty sure making clones made shadows back then."

A what? Akira had never heard the term before but dismissed it as the video continued.

From behind the camera, Dabi drawled, "They know about their quirk shadows, Double Trouble."

"Right! But what most people don't pay attention to is how their shadow feels. When you activate your quirk, you should feel a tug from one or more body parts. Pay special attention to that, and once you have a clone..." Twice gestured to a clone of Dabi as it finished. "reach into that shadow and tug that part. For me, it's the big vein in my wrists!" he flourished his wrists to the camera and poked one of the veins.

"You probably have one focal point for your quirk, so focus on that. My clones get less durable the further down the hierarchy they are, so whatever limits your first-gen clones have, their clones may experience that exponentially," Twice continued. "The focal point for a quirk varies from person to person. Like Dabi's comes from his skin!"

Akira's curiosity piqued as he rambled about the differences between quirk activations he felt in the clones of other people. He went on for several minutes, even complaining about Kurogiri never letting them get measurements before Dabi finally interjected. "As interested as they'll be in all that, was there anything else you wanted to cover?"

"Right!" Twice straightened his coat and added in a more serious tone, "Remember not to clone yourself too much too fast. It can be very draining, and we don't want a repeat of our first squad mission. If you get sensory input from them, that can also get overwhelming if you have too many active before you're ready. It's real easy for us Strangers to lose ourselves." With a thumbs up from him, the video ended.

What was that about? Akira mused. After a moment, they shrugged off his odd behavior. Every member of the League had their own quirks and coping mechanisms. Easily distracted with a flair hardly stood out.

A few minutes later, the elevator chimed, and Akira waved as they finished their smoothie. Katsuki paused with a frown before heading to the kitchen while Kirishima rushed over. "Mori, are you okay? I haven't seen-"

' I'm fine, ' Akira interrupted with an eye roll. ' Bad pain day. Stress doesn't help, and it's going to rain later. '

Kirishima frowned, knitting his brow. "Shouldn't you tell Aizawa-sensei? I'm sure he'd let you off training if you need the day."

Akira shook their head, ' Need to get used to the wheelchair – uh, this – anyways. Nothing fancy yet, just the basics right now. '

"Isn't Ingenium getting something fancy?" Katsuki called from the kitchen.

Akira nodded excitedly and pulled up the article on their phone. ' They made the announcement over the weekend. Ingenium's using a wheelchair most of the time right now, but he's looking to start patrolling once he completes physical therapy with a... ' Akira thought for a moment before fingerspelling ' neuroprosthetic exoskeleton. '

"Wait, you don't know something in JSL?" Kirishima asked with a light smile.

Akira chuckled and lightly shoved his arm, ' Medical terms are different, Red Hot. ' They briefly froze, but Kirishima moved on, easily chatting about the ultimate move he was working on called Red Riot Unbreakable. It didn't take long for Katsuki to shove a water bottle in his hand and practically drag his boyfriend out the door.

As they waited for the rest of Mad Banquet, Akira mused that Ingenium probably wouldn't be active as much or as soon as most seemed to think. Even if the exoskeleton was something he wanted and not something the commission was pushing on him, it wouldn't be a miracle cure.

"Are you sure you'll be alright practicing your quirk?" Ectoplasm asked as Akira locked their wheels.

' Of course, ' they snapped, having heard that question over a dozen times that morning. ' Being in a wheelchair means I can devote more energy to training instead of staying upright today. '

Cementoss raised the pillar at their nod, and Akira transferred onto the sitting ledge before warping back into their wheelchair. They spent the first couple hours trying to use their heart as a focal point but only succeeded in stuttering the clones' heartbeats with stronger tugs. Potentially useful in some situations, but not what they were intending.

Finally, they reset another clone and tugged its collarbone. Just as they realized they went with the same intensity they ended the previous test at, a new, slightly smaller shadow appeared as the clone dispelled. Akira startled and wheeled forward a bit to look over the edge.

"Mori!" Aizawa called out as his capture weapon closed around a falling clone, dispelling it.

Akira blinked down at their teacher a moment then broke out in a grin. They turned their wheelchair around a little awkwardly to face Ectoplasm's clone so the original could interpret. ' Sorry! I used a little too much force, but it worked! If you see me falling off the pillar, it's a clone. '

With a temporary upper bound, Akira started testing the distances associated with weaker tugs. Occasionally a clone or two warped off the pillar, the teachers jolting forward slightly. After the first few times, Akira started using a clone to sign ' distance test ' to Ectoplasm's clone before pulling harder. After a couple hours, they took a break to make notes on their improvements and theories on new applications.

CRAAACK ! A low rumble rippled through the air, pulling Akira from their musings.

"Hey, look out!"

Akira sharply twisted in their wheelchair at Katsuki's shout and rapidly warped their clones around All Might. They rushed him, pulling him out of the way as Midoriya lept into the path of the chunk of concrete. He shattered the rubble with a sweep of his leg. Akira still had their clones help maneuver All Might as Aizawa's capture weapon pulled him further away from the now much smaller pieces of falling concrete. A small smile flitted across their face at his breakthrough.

Akira startled as they looked back to the first clone, which was now deteriorating like when they hadn't eaten. Wait... Akira slipped on their crutches and warped to ground level, curiously examining their clones as they noticed they were deteriorating at rates based on hierarchy like Twice had mentioned.

"Mori, are you alright?" Aizawa asked.

Fac , Akira sharply thought to activate their coms. A smooth baritone voice with a slight gravel to the tone came through the speaker on their costume. "Yes, clones draw higher lee, so I'll monitor." After a moment, they corrected more slowly, "hierarchically."

"Good, just don't lose track and let us know if you need to break for lunch early," Aizawa said.

With a nod, Akira sharply thought, Siste . Still getting the hang of giving the commands without directing the software to dictate them, Akira did a double take before warping as they noticed the confused but bemused expression on Cementoss' face. They locked their wheels and had their clone sign to lower the pillar.

Over the next few minutes, Akira confirmed the different rates of deterioration and jotted down a few theories and calculations to test. They also noted that they were only experiencing the burn rate for the one primary clone active and didn't seem to be affected by that clone having multiple clones of itself. The shadows in their mind decreased a couple inches in height the further down the hierarchical chain they were, so Akira also made a note to test motor function and visual abnormalities between the levels. Similar to when they went invisible, Akira noticed they could still see invisible clones, although they were somewhat distorted.

Once the last clone disappeared a few minutes before the usual 10-minute limit, Akira jotted down confirmation of the deterioration rates and signed for the pillar to be re-established. They spent the last hour of training before lunch establishing baselines for the first three levels of clones and exploring the slightly shifted control thread for the clones of clones.

"I like your generated voice," Hitoshi said as Mad Banquet settled into lunch. "I don't think I've heard you use it before."

Akira nodded as their mouth thinned into a firm line, ' I've only had it for a couple days, so I have a good month or so between taking lessons and training in my free time before it's fully calibrated. '

"I'm sure you'll get it eventually," Koji softly encouraged. He gave a shrike a few crumbs, and at a series of chirps, his eyes widened. "Uh, I think Aoyama wants to talk with you?"

Akira startled and looked around a moment before catching Aoyama's eyes. They distractedly signed, ' Not that, frustrated at the need for it at all. ' At his pointed glance towards Aizawa, Akira nodded and signed, ' He asked for my help broaching a topic with sensei. This might take a while. '

Akira carefully made their way around groups of students to where Aoyama was fidgeting with his cape against the wall. Aizawa stood up a little straighter as he had been subtly tracking them with his eyes. They signed to Aoyama, ' Do you want to talk with him now or later? '

Aoyama's sparkles briefly faded before flickering back around his head. His smile became more strained as he quietly said, "I'll lose the nerve if we wait."

Akira nodded and signed to keep talking for a few minutes as they waited for the students and other teachers to lose interest in their discussion. Aizawa seemed to take the cue and slowly drifted away from the teachers. Apart from his eyes, Aoyama settled into his familiar role of vibrant star. To the others, Akira imagined he looked to be bragging about his increased laser distance and strength, but from up close they could see his smile become more strained and his fingers fidget whenever they weren't moving.

Akira gave Aizawa a small nod as he leaned beside the entrance. Just in case anyone was watching, Akira signed, ' I think sensei wants to speak with us. ' They wheeled to the door, closely flanked by Aoyama as a few students turned their way, but upon seeing who they were heading towards, all but Shoto went back to their conversations. He fortunately didn't say anything but looked intrigued.

"Where would you be most comfortable talking?" Aizawa drawled once they were out of earshot of the gym. At Aoyama's hesitance, he added, "my office, the classroom, your room, a conference room..."

"Your office," Aoyama blurted as his sparkles quickly faded now that the group was away from their class.

As they settled into Aizawa's office, the teacher said, "Since you're coming to me with Mori, I take it you're not willingly working with the League. I understand if you're uncomfortable sharing all the details, but I do need a few questions answered before we determine next steps."

Aoyama nodded hesitantly, eyes drifting to the side as Aizawa raised an eyebrow. "Oui, I understand."

"Are you and your family safe?"

Aoyama looked up in surprise and shook his head. "They know where we live."

Aizawa nodded and made a note in the shorthand Akira was all too familiar with from watching him fill out reports in the evenings and early mornings. "How long have you been working for the League?"

Aoyama frowned slightly, brows drawing together. "I'm afraid that's more complicated. I..." his breath picked up as he stared past the wall for a few moments before taking a sharp breath. His fingers dug into the arms of the chair in a death grip as he haltingly continued, "All for One gave me a quirk when I was seven and told me of his plan for me to get into U.A. when I was twelve. I wasn't aware of the League's existence and didn't have contact with them until I received the acceptance letter."

"How did you find All for One?" Aizawa asked, carefully keeping the tension in his grip and eyes out of his voice.

"There was a rumor among Quirkless that there was a man who could give you a quirk," Aoyama said as he began drifting again. He winced before whispering, "I couldn't take it anymore. It was that or..."

Akira nodded in understanding as Aizawa's expression flickered with sadness and a hint of anger. They gently placed a hand on his wrist and started rubbing circles with their thumb. Aoyama flinched but started to refocus as he relaxed marginally under the touch.

A few hours later, Aizawa had a plan in place to keep Aoyama and his parents safe while Akira managed the fallout in the League. Akira smoothly reassured the kid that they were completely fine with the arrangement and had been expecting his withdrawal since they learned of his involvement.

With only a half hour left of training, Akira signed, 'Sparkles, you go ahead. I need to talk with sensei for a moment.' After he hesitantly left, they turned their phone so Aizawa could see the message from Dabi. 'Knife Dancer plans to impersonate someone at the Provisional License Exam. She can't mimic quirks, so it'll be someone whose quirk isn't flashy or physical.'

Notes:

I recognize Twice's clones have full autonomy, but he must get some sensory input from them based on the communication and awareness he has of when a clone goes down, so... huh, minor Thinker effect I guess. I'm still classifying him as Stranger/Master (third classifications in this fic are reserved for Nomu), so we'll say the sensory input is just part of Master control. Reminder: not everyone with a disability wants a cure. The exoskeleton is something currently in the works for people who've had a stroke, but it's a tool just like other mobility aids. I plan to touch on this a little more in Libertias aut Mortis, but it's a little difficult for a background character They're using Raine Whispers' voice from The Owl House I've had a lot of fun figuring out where gaps naturally occur when thinking even with purpose. I basically ran through the lines of dialogue my head while paying loose attention to where syllables dropped or sounded like something else Me: why won't google tell me which form of actus is a verb?? Latin-is-simple: 5 of its 12 forms are just actus Me: ...oh that's why *several minutes later* Me: Godamnit it's just a noun. Latin nerd friend: I thought 12 was weirdly small for a verb Me: *facedesk*

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[f10werfae]

Sleeping Patient

pairing: Chris Evans x Doctor!Reader

Summary: After a tough time at work Y/n goes through another episode of sleep paralysis, just when she thought it was getting better. Chris takes it upon himself to go over the top to solve this, as usual.

- Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

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︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

(Y/n's P.O.V)

It’s a well known fact Doctors do not have the best work-life balance, and it’s for good reason. For years even when I was training as a junior doctor, things like sleep paralysis was a constant nightmare, quite literally. It usually happens a couple of times over a range of months, so luckily not daily.

“Y/n you should really head home girl, you’ve been up for 36 hours straight. That’s not ok” Steph groaned taking the clipboard out of my hands, working in the emergency department did that to you. Days of just staying up late, nights of restless work and reports.

“But the patient in room 305-“

“Calm down girl, I know your man must be waitin for ya at home. Don’t drive home, i’ll call you a cab okay?” With one ring of a cab, Steph handed me my coat and duffle bag from the locker room and stood with me outside to wait for my taxi.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright tonight-“

“Yes hun, go home and relax, I know you’re off for the rest of the week”

Nodding my head I stepped into the yellow cab that had just arrived, telling the driver my address I just let my head fall onto the rain stricken window. God I had forgotten what it was like to finally be in a somewhat peaceful environment, no more ringing sounds in my ears, or the constant rush of adrenaline.

(Chris' P.O.V)

Getting off the phone from one of Y/n's coworkers Steph, I stood outside of our front door, sitting on the chair on our porch.

My poor girl has done nothing but work tirelessly these past few weeks, especially with COVID on the rise again. With me being away for multiple projects this year, like Ghosted, I knew she used work as a distraction from staying alone in the house.

I walked down the path once I saw the yellow cab pull up, handing the driver some bills, I opened Y/n's door who was clearly dozing off in the back. Looking at the cute sleepy look on her face, I took her bag from her and basically carry her into the house.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“ ‘m sorry Chris, i’m such a mess” She mumbled as I set her to lay down on the bed, her head lifting slightly while I took off her shoes and started taking off her work scrubs.

“Don’t apologise sweetheart, i’m so proud of ya” I cooed watching a sleepy smile grow on her face as she somehow found the energy to crawl under the covers. Pulling back my side of the covers I slipped in beside her, her body slowly moving towards mine and wrapping itself around me.

Within seconds Y/n was knocked out on my chest, light snores leaving her lips, her face looking much more rested and calmer. Deciding It was still too early to sleep, I turned on the bedroom T.V and switched to some random channel for some background noise.

(Y/n's P.O.V)

'What the fuck? Not again’

I felt a continuous weight pushing down on me from somewhere, my eyes half cracked open yet I couldn’t speak or move. Sleep paralysis.

For years I had continuous spurts of sleep paralysis episodes, recently not really but I knew it was coming at some point.

Moving my eyes about I could see Chris was awake yet his attention was on something else in the room. Then the worst part started, a dark figure appeared in the dark corner of our room, it was always faceless and resembled a shadow. It never moved or anything, just stayed there silently torturing me as I lay there helpless.

I felt my breathing start to quicken out of my nose, the feeling of anxiety bubbling up horribly in my chest.

(Chris' P.O.V)

Mindlessly watching the screen, I felt a major shift in Y/n's breathing. Looking down I saw her pretty eyes dart around the room crazily,

“You awake Y/n/n?”

No reply.

I repeated my question only to see her eyes meet mine, it instantly giving my chills as I watched them tear up. Shaking her a bit to no avail, I now sat up and shook her a tiny bit harder; then all I heard was her breaking into wrecked sobs. Her breathing was all over the place as she held onto my shirt tightly, her face hidden.

“B-baby what the hell just happened? Are you alright? Did ya have a nightmare?”

“Water” She croaked out gasping for air,

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

(No one’s P.O.V)

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I’m pretty sure t-that was another episode of sleep paralysis” Y/n breathed out handing back the cup of water for Chris to set back onto the bedside table.

“You’ve had this before?”

“I mean not recently, it was before we got together it was really bad, so I thought it had gotten better” Y/n shrugged tugging up the covers to her neck

“Bub why didn’t you tell me? You know I would have helped you with anything?”

“I don’t know I didn’t see it as a big deal, plus I know how busy you’ve been I don’t wanna add onto that ya know?”

“Y/n what did I say when we first got together?”

“I’m your number one priority” Y/n breathed out feeling Chris' arms wrap around her even more, both of their bodies smushed together in a bundle of blankets.

“Will ya sing for me?” Y/n asked, with Chris starting to him ‘The Carpenters - Close to You’ into her ears softly, his large hands rubbing up and down her back gently. Y/n's eyes were still tired with sleep, even with the episode she was desperate to fall back asleep again. That sense of happiness filling her when she realised she was off for the next four days, and Chris was too.

“Sleep tight baby”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Chris hummed holding onto Y/n's hands tenderly as they sat outside the bed store, mattresses filling the furniture store they were currently at. Reading up on sleep paralysis, Chris read that one of the main ways to help was to ensure a good night’s sleep. With a rich man like Chris by your side, he insisted (forced) that you actually buy a whole new mattress for your guys' bed.

“Chris we don’t actually need a whole new mattress”

“Shush honey, after we fixed your working hours, I am making sure your bed is practically heaven” He said pressing a finger to Y/n’s lips to stop her from talking, standing up when a store attendant headed their way

“N' it means we get to christen the thing, any way we want” Chris whispered bending down to Y/n, his fingertips dancing over the small of her back.

———

Taglist Tags (form is up there^^): @pandaxnienke @patzammit @seren-a-ity @thereisa8ella @mrspeacem1nusone @evanstanwhore @itsaylayay1213 @kimhtoo17 @chrisevansdaughter @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @tojisbabymommy @bxdbxtxh15 @madebylilly @sairsei @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chrisevansangel @royalwriteroftheuniverse @mysticfalls01 @taramaria @mirikusashes @marvelgurl @xoxokiaraaxoxo @caps-shield1918 @uwiuwi

[neochan]

GENRE | smut, idolverse!

WARNINGS | smut

WC | 2.6k +

A.N | this is a repost of my older work. i hope you enjoy it <3

You could still hear the unintelligible screaming of thousands of fans as the boys filtered off the stage and into the greenroom. Another successful concert in the long string of tour stops. You couldn’t even remember what state you were in because the days of traveling, unpacking, setting up, and doing it all again the next day ran together.

The boys were dripping sweat, immediately grabbing bottles of water and towels to wipe themselves off. They had worked harder than normal today since during one of the sets the microphone cut out and they had to perform acapella. Someone was getting fired for that.

Taeyong flopped onto the leather couch dominating the center of the room, water in one hand, phone in the other. “People are already uploading photos.” He outstretches his arm so the others could view the pictures pulled up on his screen.

“Johnny you look ridiculous,” you point out, laughing as a fan had caught Johnny in the act of wildly waving his light stick.

“I was having a good time, okay?” He chuckles and walks into the dressing rooms to change out of his stage outfit. Half of the group filtered out to change and half stayed to peruse through the gifts left by venue staff and play on their phones until told otherwise.

You were wondering where Hyuck was when you heard his voice from the hallway. He saunters in and gives you a kiss on the cheek, “Enjoy the show?” His golden skin was tainted pink, hair matted to his forehead by the sweat that was trickling down the side of his face. He grabbed his shirt and lifted it to swipe at his face, revealing his cute tummy. You had to resist the urge to poke it.

“I enjoyed hearing thousands of pretty fans scream your name” You give him a smirk knowing that he hates when you downplay your relationship.

He nudges you with his shoulder, “You know I meant the songs,” his doe eyes look into yours, his long lashes brushing against his cheek when he blinked “Besides, you know I love you and only you.”

Mark began to nervously giggle in the corner while Doyoung made fake gagging noises from the vanity he sat at. “Oh, shut up.” You say, throwing empty water bottles at the two, “And hurry up I wanna go swimming before it gets too late.”

The ride home was peaceful once the swarms of fans cleared a path for the bus. Per the managers request you slouched down in your seat so know one could see you through the window. It didn’t make much sense because the windows were tinted, but Haechan had to argue for his life to allow them to let you tag along on the tour, so you didn’t question them. Once you were on the road, you sat back up and snuggled close to Haechans side. He rested his hand on your thigh, absentmindedly stroking you with his thumb. His head leaned back against the seat, eyes closed, listening to music. It was so loud you could almost make out the words but you didn’t say anything – you let him stay in his post concert utopia for the whole trip.

The hotel was about an hour away from the venue so that no one would find them, and they’d be closer to their next destination. It was nicer than the others because it actually had a pool. You and Haechan made an agreement to go swimming after the concert, and you couldn’t wait. The staff also rented more rooms, so instead of four people to a bed, it was just you and Haechan.

After checking in everyone filtered off to their rooms leaving the both of you to freely do whatever you wanted - within reason of course. You both got changed, your gaze admiring the hard lines of Haechans back. “Don’t stare.” He blushed, wrapping a towel around his upper body.

You pulled on your bikini which made Haechan go silent. You specifically picked this one because it brought out your skin tone well, and cupped your features beautifully. “Now who’s staring?”

It never failed. The butterfly feeling you got in the pit of your stomach when Haechan watched you with loving eyes. You wrapped a towel around your waist, allowing Haechans eyes to roam the tops of your breasts, peeking out from the almost too small bathing suit.

His cheeks turned pink once he noticed he was caught, “Let’s go”.

The hallways were quiet since it was almost midnight, so you wordlessly made your way down the stairs and out into the night air. It had grown considerably cooler than when guys first arrived that morning, but the sky made up for it. Pretty stars pricked the vast expanse of dark blue and black infinity. You could see the moon peaking out from behind a single cloud, casting a shadowed glow on Haechans honey skin.

The gate was closed when you walked up to it so you stopped to read, “Aw man, the pool closed an hour ago,” You set your lips in a pout, “no wonder the lights weren’t on.”

“Hey it’s okay, no lights, no cameras, they probably wont even notice we’re here if we keep quiet.” He moves closer to you, eyebrows raised expectant for an answer.

You hesitated wondering if you really could pull it off, after all you’d been looking forward to this for the whole day, “I don’t wanna get in trouble..”

“You said you wanted to swim and I’m going to make sure that happens,” He gets down on one knee, “step on my leg, I'm gonna help you jump the fence.”

He boots you over, and grabs your arms to help lower you on the other side, but his hand slips and his nails dig into your shoulder. “Ow, fuck.” You wince rubbing the spot he scratched.

“Sorry, sorry” He says giggling, jumping the fence with such quietness and ease that it looked unreal. “Come on, dare you to do a canon ball!?”

He ran ahead throwing his towel on one of the pool chairs and jumping in the water. You cringe away from the loud slap his body hitting the water made. You walk slowly to the chair, deeply inhaling the addictive chlorine scent.

He finally stands up waist deep in the water and pushes his hair back. The blue water reflected against him, making his skin sparkle. “Come into the water y/n” he splashed some water into your general direction, but not enough to touch you.

“Okay, Okay.” You drop the towel and slip into the water. It was cold. Really cold. You gasp and recoil away, but not fast enough, because Haechan has wrapped his arms around you and started carrying you towards the deep end. You struggle a bit in his grip but his arms provide an iron cage that you can’t get out of. “Haechan let me go!”

He presses a warm kiss to the back on your neck but doesn’t comply with your wishes, instead making a curve and bringing you towards the underwater benches. He fixes his hold on you so that now he’s carrying you bridal style. You stare up at him, water droplets falling off his chin. His eyes were already red from the chlorine and you hoped that it cleared up by tomorrow nights concert. His plush lips sat in a pout, strong jaw set. He was so very pretty; and all yours. You smiled to yourself, deciding to keep that image locked away in your memory forever.

Once he gets to the benches he sets you down and glides in beside you. “You know It’s colder than I thought it was going to be.” He lifts a hand and sheepishly rubs the back of heck, “and you look way hotter in that bikini than I thought you would.”

“I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a dig or a compliment.” You scoot closer to him so that your thighs were pressed against each other. Finding his hand underwater, you intertwine your fingers with his own.

“A compliment babe.” He chuckles and slouches in the water so that only his head sat above it. You both sit there for a moment until it becomes too cold to sit still.

“Well I’m going to put it to use and go swim.” You push off from the cement and paddle around. The only way to stay slightly warm was to keep moving. Haechan watched you, eyes crinkled in a smile, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It was fun to watch you play in the water but the bathing suit was making him think of other things you two could be doing.

And that was how it stayed. Haechan watching while you performed for him.

A while had passed, the calm exterior of the pool getting to you, making you drowsy. The cold blue water washed over your hands while you gently skimmed the surface, making your way over to where Haechan was. You hummed a short tune under your breath, trying to keep yourself distracted. it was close to one in the morning now, but Haechan still sat on the bench, slightly shivering from the brisk air, hands gripping his thighs under the water while his mind wandered far away from the present.

“Watcha thinkin’ about” you ask, moving closer to him, hoping to catch some lingering body warmth.

“Fucking you ,” he moved off the seat and dove under the surface, only leaving small ripples in his wake. You stand there for a second wonder how he could be so blunt, so forward in his desires; he was never like this.

He swam a single circle around your body before popping up in front of you, giving you a mini heart attack. He pushes you back against the tiled walls, “I’ve spent the last hour thinking about fucking you. Thinking about how pretty you’d sound.” His head dips down to kiss along your collarbone, and your hands grab the back of neck, holding him there while his tongue sucked bruises into your tender skin. His hands grazed the bare skin of your arms, giving you goosebumps.

He moaned into the side of your neck, biting and sucking away, wanting you to yearn for him like he did for you. He lifted his head so that his mouth hung over yours, his small puffs of breath fanning over your face while he tests the waters. “Can I kiss you?”

Without giving him an answer you pull him closer by the roots of his hair. His kissing was messy and sweet, and while your tongues moved together, his hips began rubbing circles against you, trying to gain some friction in the cool water. Small heavy breaths were the only sound you could hear, aside from the occasional splash as Haechan moved restlessly.

Your hand wandered down his chest and below the surface to where you could feel him straining against his shorts. You began to stroke him over the fabric, his hips pushing against your touch. He broke the kiss to watch as you peeled down the elastic from his hips, his cock freed from the restricting material of his swim shorts. You watched him twitch slightly as the cold water met his length.

“You can’t make any noise.” You place a single finger against his lips.

“No promises.” He whispers, a devilish smirk breaking way on his face. His hands caress you thighs, pushing your bottoms to the side. The cold water hit you, making you gasp and push into Haechan who just whimpers against your touch.

He tried to stay quiet, only soft grunts between gritted teeth and muffled moans as his hips pushed into your own. The water created resistance but it just enhanced how good he was feeling. He hurriedly grabs at your legs, pulling them up so that they sat around his waist. Your back dragged up the tiled walls, scraping your tender skin, but you could only focus on Haechans cock thrusting deeply in and out of you. He stared longingly into your eyes, filling you up completely, wanting to savor the way they fluttered in the back of your head.

“You love the way I fill you up huh?” He groans into your ear, a hand falling forward to grip the cement ledge of the pool.

You couldn’t respond without fear of moaning so you nod your head wildly. He began to bite and suck at your collarbone, pushing you closer to the edge. Looking down he sees your nipples, erect, poking through the wet fabric of your bathing suit. His eyes grow wide, hips stuttering into you. Fuck you were hot.

“Haechannie, I think I’m going to come.” You squeezed your eyes shut trying to focus on the feeling coiling in your stomach.

“Not yet.” He growls, hands moving to pin your wrists against the cement ledge, “Hold it princess, I know you can.” The water began to slosh around faster as Haechan thrusted harder into you. The sound was so loud its no wonder you didn’t hear the keys jangling against the hip of the guard making his way towards you two.

“Hey!,” he shouts running towards you, “The pool is closed! Get out! Are you two-” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as you and Haechan spring up out of fear and take off. It was easy to push yourself up onto the pool deck. The guard made the mistake of following you two and leaving the gate unattended. You and Haechan ran out, giggling, making your way back into the hotel. You didn’t stop until you got into the room and slammed the door behind you.

With your heart hammering in your chest you lean against the dark cherry wood . “Holy fuck we could’ve gotten in serious trouble.” You gasp out, clutching a hand against your wet bathing suit top.

“Babe we’ll be gone by morning, no one is gonna know.” Haechan paces in front of you trying to catch his breath. His shorts hung dangerously low on his hips, it was miracle he got them up in time.

“We’re so banned from this hotel.” A knock on the door makes you jump away from it, the worst of punishment's filling your mind. What were they going to do? They couldn’t arrest you, could they?

Haechan walks forward and turns the knob slowly, revealing a sleepy Doyoung. His oversized t-shirt hung off one shoulder showing off his gaunt collarbone. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What do you want Doie?” you ask softly.

“How was getting chased by the guard?” he gives a sleepy chuckle, still half in his dreams.

“How did you-,” A look of realization hits Haechan, “You reported us?” He whined, pushing Doyoungs bare shoulder so that he stumbled back.

“Sound travels over water dumbasses and you guys were loud, I was trying to sleep!” Protesting, he pushes Haechans wet shoulder back.

“Well, now we’re going to be twice as loud.” Haechan slams the door in Doyoungs face and grabs you, throwing you on the bed. You give a squeal, and hear Doyoungs fist hit the door.

“I swear I’ll make a noise complaint.” He sounded more irritated than sleepy now.

“Go ahead, you’re just mad I’m getting laid and you aren't.” You playfully slap Haechans arm, but he nips at your hand. The other side of the door grows silent, Doyoung either going to report you two, or going back to his room defeated.

“Shall we pick up where we left off princess?”

[youryanderedaddy]

War prize

Summary: You get taken as a war prize once the barbarians take over your homeland.

Tw: nsfw, non - con, mentions of blood, slight corruption kink, size difference, slavery, deregatory language, degradation, possessive behavior, minor character death, spanking, mention of war

There is now part 2

Yoo guys, don’t worry if you voted for the other two options, I will write for them too soon enough. Anyways, enjoy.  

You weren’t supposed to be here right now with your legs covered in heavy metal chains and a dirty cloth shoved up in your mouth. Your friends weren’t supposed to be either captured or dead. Your side wasn’t supposed to lose against the barbaric tribe. So many things weren’t supposed to happen tonight and you were slowly getting used to the fact that your supreme leaders had failed, the army had raised the white flag high and you were currently in the enemy territory with slim chances of escape, with absolutely no memories of how you got there in the first place.

You could hear his heavy prolonged footsteps, the way the sharp heel of his boot dug into the rich soil and stomped all over the daisies and weeds just like he had done with your own people hours ago. He was getting closer to the tent by the minute and his shadow was growing bigger and bigger until the soldier finally pulled back the curtain-like fabric to the side and entered the tiny space you were forced into.

He was very tall, unnaturally so, nothing like the men in your tribe who, despite being strong and capable, were born on the shorter side. His face was rough and raw, his features symmetrical and fierce in their cold perfection, deep charcoal eyes, dark lips and a straight nose. The knight fancied his long black hair free and wild, letting it fall against his muscular shoulders softly, shiny, silky and healthy. In these territories the warriors wore very little clothing, finding anything covering their chest or ankles to be too distracting and suffocating during a battle. You tried to look away from his half – naked form but his upper body was sweaty and smooth, caramel in color, making it hard to look at anything else. In return the male simply stared at you for a few moments, grinning in amusement or maybe even satisfaction, and kneeled down next to the mat you laid on.  

“Hello, my little captive.” His voice was throaty and deep when he finally called out to you, a cunning smirk adorning his lips, giving him a sly foxy expression. The man reached out to cup your cheek and wipe away a tear slowly falling down, causing you to squirm away from his touch as if he held a hot iron against your face.

“Don’t touch me, you brute!” You shouted out before you had the chance to reconsider your poor choice of wording. The knight simply chuckled in respond and grabbed your hips roughly, making sure to dig his nails deep into the clothed skin before pulling you closer to his naked chest. You couldn’t help but turn red when forced to take in the warmth and firmness of his body – you had never been so close with a man before, much less your commune’s arch enemy.

“I will do so much more than that, sweet girl.” Raven whispered against your ear and kissed your neck softly, pulling your hair down so you would arch your back and whine miserably. “I won you fair and square, little slave.” He growled against your collarbone and bit down hard on the soft part of your throat. You couldn’t stand the hot wet sensations and you desperately wanted to get away from the warrior’s cruel grip, but you were helpless in your struggles, and even if you weren’t thoroughly tied up, you were still too scared to put up a fight against the barbaric male twice your size.

“You are so small and fragile, so vulnerable underneath me. I’ve always wanted something soft and pretty to warm my bed at night.” Raven admitted huskily as he tore apart your white satin robe, revealing your chest to the lingering glittering light coming from the gaslight above. Your pitiful whimpers were muffled by his lips slamming on yours and his wet slippery tongue forcing his way deep down your throat. The warrior was caressing your bosom, squeezing and fondling at it shamelessly, pinching and licking your nipples until they stood at attention red and swollen like cherries. “Such a pretty little slut, tied down at my mercy.” The knight moaned and slapped your breast lightly, enjoying the sheer look of horror on your beautiful face, twisted in panic. “I’m gonna make your tits bounce while I take you like a bitch in heat.” The man mumbled sadistically and slapped your other breast, this time using more force. “ I’m gonna make you my whore.” He cursed under his breath and lowered his head to suck on your neck once again.

Soon Raven got bored of playing with your tits and moved on to spread your legs wide open, pulling your panties down to your ankles. The sight of your sweet tight pussy exposed and displayed so wantonly was mouth-watering to the barbarian, and he could already feel his member harden painfully against your slit. You pleaded silently with your eyes to be spared, muttering quiet pleas, “no’s”, sobbing and clutching to the last bit of hope for mercy. Unfortunately, the warrior couldn’t hear a word, too fascinated by your luscious body and his own wild hunger.

“My beautiful little prize, all mine.” The man whispered almost affectionately, kissing you nice and slow this time, with his throbbing erection pressed on your entrance, inches away from your untouched virgin hole. “I saw you earlier today while you were tending to your parents’ wounds, pet.” He spoke suddenly, his length teasing your folds by slowly sliding in between your soft thighs. “You looked so precious in your desperate attempt to save them during the final fight.” The warrior continued, one hand coming up to stroke your hair in a sick yet comforting manner. “A sweet little thing like you shouldn’t be on the battlefield.” Raven kept going while rubbing slow circles on the palm he had forced you to open when you were clenching your fist tight. “You look so much better by my side, pretty girl.” The soldier placed a small peck on your temple, the lingering gentleness of his actions and the cruelty of his words making you sick to your core. You felt tired and overwhelmed yet the worst was still in store.

“I will tell you a little secret, slave.” The dark-haired male snarled at you and raised your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his cold black eyes. “I killed your father and took you all for myself.” He confessed in a low vicious voice, his scarred fingers tightening around your throat. The wet fury in your heart tangled together with the pain and grief of your loss, but the deadly grip around your neck forced you in place, still and lifeless like a doll. You wished you were dead just like your family so you wouldn’t have to suffer the humiliation of entertaining the enemy and his twisted desired any longer. “Now I am going to steal your innocence and make you mine, little bird.” Your face froze in terror and agony, having realized that, by the end of his words, the man had already pushed his manhood into your tight heat, piercing through your body, unprepared for the shock and the pain. “Sing for me, slave.” The barbarian hissed under his breath and moved roughly in and out of you, each new thrust sharper and deeper than the last one. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you broken down so easily, but you needed a way to cope with the harsh reality, so you cried out for him. You chocked on your pitiful sobs, screamed in pain and whimpered miserably just to survive another second of this meaningless torture.

Raven looked ecstatic, enticed by your lovely moans and whines, your sweet despair delicious on his tongue while he claimed your lips and explored your throat. Your tight pussy squeezed hard on his length, milking every bit of pleasure out of it. His eyes were blacker than the night sky, filled with lust and thirst for blood, unquenched even after hours of slaying the innocent souls determined to protect their land. Laying down on the cold ground, sweaty, violated and stripped of your pride, you wondered whether you were just another conquest to the warrior, perhaps ruining your purity was his way of proving that he and his people were the new rulers of the territory.

“What a sweet little virgin you were, and now you are bleeding on my cock while I take you, pet.” The barbarian cooed at you cruelly, choking you lightly, not tight enough to put your life in danger, but enough to keep you motionless and complacent, just a hole for him to fuck into. “I am going to cum in your cunt now, slave, and you are going to stay there and take it.” The man announced sternly and kept shoving his manhood down your channel roughly, pounding into you relentlessly until he came with a growl and released his seed deep inside you, painting your walls white. Your pussy felt raw and puffy, pulsating in pain around the cock still buried in. He wasn’t pulling out of you.

“Oh, little bird, did you really think that I would be satisfied with having you just once?” Raven taunted you gleefully, a sadistic gleam in his dark eyes as he took in the panic on your face, drinking it like a glass of honey mead. “I fought for you after all, precious.” The warrior muttered slowly, mere inches away from your swollen lips, bruised and red from all the biting and rough kisses. “I am going to savor you little by little.” He paused to catch your gaze and held it for a moment too long before focusing on your mouth again.

“You’re mine now, don’t you ever forget it.”

[notnctu]

backseat chronicles - n.jm | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, fluff, lil angst  wordcount ➠ 8.5k details ➠ fem!reader, streetracer!jaemin, badboy!jaemin, college!au ━ where Jaemin brings you to his club races as his arm candy. warnings ➠ explicit language, overstimulation, flirty banter, pet names, softdom!jaemin, car sex, praise kink, hittin it raw (y/n on the pill), oral, daddy kink, slight corruption kink, fingering synopsis ➠ There is no reasonable explanation as to why or how you always end up in the backseat of Na Jaemin’s beloved car. Almost routinely, he picks you up around ten in the evening with the stereo blasting the raunchiest lyrics for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. The entire night remains purely friendly, a dabble of flirtatious comments because well, it’s Jaemin for fuck sakes. But all it takes is one suggestive gaze from his dark, lustful eyes and a drop in his voice that rumbles your core to have you climbing over the seats to get to the back. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi​​​ ; @darkneogotmyback​​​ ; @im-lame-irl​​​ ; @p-mini​​​ ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck​​​ ; @saniahmichael​​ ; @jaehy9ngs​​​ ; @danyxthirstae01​​​ ; @jaehyunoos​​​ ; @pikijaemin​​​ ; @suhweo​​​ ; @yunoyeol​​​ ; @lanadreamie​​​ ; @ta3ilmoon​​​ ; 

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! thank you for over 1k notes on this series, im beyond impressed by the amount of attention this got! it really blew up and its so crazy!! i wrote this one with more of a romantic plotline i realized its too hard to keep it pwp with all the story building and characterization i have :)) it’s almost over yall! pls pls leave me feedback im sorry it took so long to write ):

While college lecture rooms are too big to interact with other students, discussion classes are there to ease the difficulty. A classroom for about twenty students from a three hundred person lecture. It’s administered by a clueless TA, who barely began his second term in graduate school.

Unlike lecture, attendance is mandatory for participation points. You show up every time without a fail, so it came as a shock to you when a certain blue haired student finally appeared from the list of absent students.

Na Jaemin. The notorious playboy with looks that kill and partakes in some illegal racing club. It’s as if every person in the room fawns over his aura, Jaemin drips with an inexplicable alluring confidence. You didn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he never shows up for class and rumors about how he’s slept with the entire cheer squad.

But he’s drawn to you like a magnet: always sitting in the available spot next to you, asking about your day before the TA arrives, developing an odd staring problem. You don’t feed much into his attention, minding your own business when he starts with his notably flirtatious greeting.

“You just take my breath away, (Y/N).” Jaemin cocks back in his seat with legs stretched wide in an overly comfortable manner. The smug smirk on his face cannot be ignored, he’s doing the absolute most to get you to pay the smallest attention to him.

“I didn’t do anything in particular to do that, Jaemin.” You respond bitterly, pulling out your notes for today’s discussion class. The TA enjoys wasting the first twenty minutes going over the past lecture slides and running through the most obvious topics.

You pay no mind to Jaemin peering over at you with the single handedly most dreamy eyes and smile --- stars shining in his dark orbs and a dazzling twinkle in his wide toothy grin.

“That’s why you’re so amazing. You do nothing and it still leaves me breathless.” His sneaky eyes examine your clothing choice for the long day. On this warm afternoon, the short tank top does nothing to hide much of your skin and the denim shorts that ride up a little too well drive Jaemin insane. And when you cross your legs together, he swallows the spit that pools in the back of his throat.

Your ears catch onto the murmurs of the rest of the class, the midterm is next week. The wretched midterm that is half of your grade dooms you, it is going to take an endless amount of completely undistracted dedicated hours of study--- “On a more serious note, can you help me with this class?”

His voice shatters your inner panic, if anything, adds to the stress that already beats down on your shoulders. You look up to glare at him, but you’re entirely taken aback by the new styling of his hair and the exposure of his tattoos.

The sweet blue cotton candied strands are ruffled lazily above his brows, messy from him constantly running his hand through them. Jaemin sits relaxed in gray sweatpants that are extremely baggy on his slender figure, hands are shoved casually into the pockets.

But what has you staring for longer is the long sleeve of tattoos that wrap around his left arm. Not that you’re surprised that Jaemin has tattoos, let alone a whole sleeve, but this is your first time seeing it as this is the first time he’s come to class without his leather jacket on. Something about the intricate lines and shadowing make Jaemin seem much cooler, almost more attractive.

When you meet his eyes, his lips curl slowly into a sly side smile and he’s practically eating you up under his gaze. He definitely knew that you were staring and what comes next out of his mouth will haunt you for it. “Like what you see, beautiful?”

“I don’t have the time to help you.” The best way out of this situation is to simply ignore it. Jaemin is overly adored and admired by many, he’ll find someone else to help him.

“Jaemin, do you want to study together?” There you go, folks. The random girl snickers with her small huddle of friends in the upper corner of the room, like a crowd of crows, they’re all waiting around for Jaemin to accept her offer so he can be easily integrated into their little group.

However, you watch how his glances bounce between you and her. The most sickly sweet, kind smile is almost too fake to consider it to be genuine. His final choice surprises you, “thank you for offering, but I only want (Y/N)...”

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat as you hope for him to finish his sentence, the drumming of your heart distracting you even more. Jaemin wants you? While the thought is flattering, it puzzles you greatly.

“... to help me with my studies.” Jaemin finishes his sentence after a rather long pause, his eyes finally resting upon your figure shying away and finding any way to seem uninterested in the conversation. “Is that going to be okay, (Y/N)?”

“What do I get out of it?” You can’t believe that you are actually considering it. But this is a man that only wants you to help him. Jaemin is an impossible, yet charming man and whatever comfortable attire he is wearing today is really aiding in his request.

He lights up, ears perked up and eyes attentive. His hands fold together on the empty desk, leaning forward towards you. “Dates with me.”

Rolling your eyes, you groan slightly at the arrogant answer. “I don’t care about that. I want something that benefits me.”

“I’ll make sure you’re well fed.” There is a tiny plea in his tone, a remarkable shift from his cool aura. “What do you want? I’ll give it to you.”

“I guess I can’t turn down free food…” there is a hang in your sentence as you contemplate what chaos you’re about to dive into and what life changes are about to be explored with Jaemin.

“Before you agree,” Jaemin chuckles, “there’s one more thing I’d like you to do for me.”

You’re quick to shoot a daggering glare at the overly enthusiastic boy, “why do I suddenly owe you favors?”

“Because I say so.” He deadpans, a chill running down your spine at the deep dip in his octave. The playfulness that was present all this time suddenly vanished, a serious look that intimidates you, but sexy enough to where it erupts something in your core. He blinks at you with dark clouded eyes and you nervously anticipate what he is going to ask next of you.

“Accompany me to my races.” He speaks lowly as if he’s afraid of someone else eavesdropping in the conversation.

Here’s your issue with that request: you’ve never really been part of that scene. You’ve lived pretty mundanely, even in college. It’s simple, you like to stay within the boundaries of what you enjoy to do and what you have to do. But you’re always open minded and willing to try something to determine whether or not you’re fond of it.

Partying and drinking copious amounts of alcohol weren’t your favorite things to do, especially to the point of forgetting your nights. You wanted to remember your nights as much as you do your days. The youth isn’t here for long, why waste them by blacking out in the middle of a large party? Also, whoever said that alcohol goes down smooth is a blatant liar.

Illegal racing could possibly be an extension of people who participate in those things, which is fine, but does place a crippling fear of coming off too boring or unrelatable inside your nervous system. But just because you don’t do those things doesn’t mean that you’re not as cool, right?

Since when was your status based nonsensically on how often you spend your nights in socializing crowds full of sweaty bodies and how much cheap booze you can drink? It had to be all in your head --- you’re just dreading any awkward socializing with people who race cars when it’s absolutely illegal.

“Why me?” It’s a genuine answer, possibly stemming from your insecurities of not being on the same level of charm as Jaemin exudes. You’re not a fool, you’re well aware of the many different people he comes across on campus so, why you?

Jaemin doesn’t hesitate to answer, “why not you? You’re just my type. Hot and smart. Cute and a little shy. The greatest duality, if you ask me.” His words seem so genuine that it has you believing these things about yourself as well.

Nonetheless, you’re taken aback by his observations and his choice of descriptions. “We’ve barely ever talked. How can you say these things so confidently about me?”

Jaemin slightly pulls your chair closer to his own and you yelp in response to the sudden movement and lack of space that separates the two of you. He leans into you, breath hot on your skin and obvious eyes darting between your shocked ones and pretty lips.

“So let’s get to know each other. I can already tell that it’ll just make me fall for you even more.” His finger lightly traces your jaw, stopping at your chin to give it a small lift to meet his focus. Jaemin loves how you squirm underneath his intensity, you’re too cute to let go. “Plus, my boys will love you. I’m sure of it.”

The TA rushes in quickly and is utterly distressed from the traffic that had pushed back his schedule. “Sorry, I’m late everyone.” He rummages through his things to find his notes, but groans to see that the monitor of the computer is off. It’s going to take him another ten minutes to input all his credentials.

But your attention doesn’t stray from Jaemin, especially with his delicate touch at the bottom of your chin. His gentle smile enacts nothing but a soft love, and a peak of interest. Na Jaemin, the one and only. He’s like an adventure waiting to be explored, an open bottle of fun for you to take a sip.

“What would I have to do?” Your voice comes out shaky.

“Just be there as your pretty self.” Jaemin comes off as the type to always have women around him, “you’ll be my lucky charm. For some reason, I always feel better around you.”

The escalation of this conversation is possibly more action you’ve had to handle in the last two years. Jaemin drops your chin and falls back into his own seat with his arms crossed. He is about to turn your life upside down and whether that be a good or bad thing, you don’t mind. You’re excited for the new thrills that come with being by Na Jaemin’s side.

Jaemin’s hot hands lift your shirt quickly, throwing it towards the front seat of his car. His lips return to your soft neck, nibbling at your skin tenderly and with love bites that will remind you of his gentle touches. The streetlamps outside flicker impatiently as you feel the eagerness soaking your panties and he lifts you up to take them off.

“My sweet girl,” his voice is light and airy that it becomes almost lost in the heat of the car. “You’re excited tonight. Did you miss me?” The devilish smirk can be felt upon your collarbones.

“Yes, I haven’t seen you for almost five days.” A peculiar whine settles in your pout and Jaemin’s low growl sends shivers down your spine. The only barrier are his own tight jeans and your hands are fast at unbuckling his belt. Jaemin relaxes back, forearms resting on your soft thighs and watching the neediness in your expression and the speed of your hands. He smiles to himself seeing you this way, wanting him so badly that you can’t wait to get him out of his jeans.

Throughout the two months that you and Jaemin finally became well acquainted, he’s fallen inexplicably into your trance. His friends made it very clear to you that he doesn’t keep the same girl around for more than a few weeks. But he’s brought you to almost every race so far and despite the initial shock of your appearance after the third time, you didn’t let the passing comments phase you.

Why he hasn’t replaced you is unknown and truthfully, there is no reasonable explanation how you always wind up in the backseat of his car by the end of the night. It’s become part of your routine. Jaemin picks you up around ten in the evening with raunchy lyrics blasting out of his personalized car for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. More often than not, Jaemin has food ready for you to devour and a cozy blanket for your exposed legs.

You’ve learned a bit more about him through your backseat chronicles. Jaemin is possibly one of the only people in your life with a heart bigger than his own body, while also being as carefree as he can. Oddly enough, he cares about you as his friend and as his companion. Not to mention the ridiculous, yet endearing nickname, “Lucky Charm”, that he has coined upon you.

Jaemin has been the best adventure you’ve had in ages. While he takes you on intoxicating thrill rides on the leather of his back seats, every street race has been more than unforgettable. He shares one of the same values as you --- wanting to remember the present. You both know that you’ll remember each other enough for it to transcend into your next lives.

You have him to thank for your youthful experiences, to learn and dive into this new found world of mischief under his care. Jaemin treats you extraordinarily well, he’d never hurt a soul. He showers you in appraisal and carefulness, he’s attentive to your behavior and remembers your favorite things. And he reminds you almost every time you see him that he’s so grateful to have you in his life.

“Have you been touching yourself?” Jaemin’s bold question catches you off guard as it causes your hands to shyly hover over his unzipped jeans. When you glance up at him with soft innocent eyes, as if you’re guilty of a crime and wish to beg for forgiveness, his facial expression is serious and intimidating. 

“Continue, baby. You can be honest with me. Daddy isn’t going to punish you if you did.” His tone is sweet and light, but his eyes are dark and piercing. His lips are drawn tightly into a thin line, no curve in sight.

His finger grazes down your cheek gently as he admires your slightly parted lips and the way your eyelashes dance every time you blink. However, his other hand urges you to continue your previous action of getting him out of his restrictive jeans.

You nod, while rubbing his erection through his gray briefs that hug him so tightly. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you pull the waistband of his underwear down and his cock stands against his lower abdomen. “Do you think of me when you do?” His voice gets caught in his throat when you take him in your warm hand.

“Always.” You kiss his jawline and fix your position above his dick. Your slick pussy presses down against his shaft, coating it in your juices and rubbing his tip to your clit for a delicious sensation. Jaemin groans, his gaze dipping between your lower bodies and back to your face.

“My sweet (Y/N) thinks about her daddy fucking her senseless while she touches herself.” Jaemin chuckles darkly, grinding his hips harder against you. There is a shift in the atmosphere as he grips your hips and slowly enters your dripping hole. “That’s cute, baby.”

You hold onto his shoulders as his raw dick fills you to the brim, stretching you out like past nights. Gasps leave your body when he starts pulling all the way out to only have you sink back down. “Daddy, please just fuck me.”

Jaemin picks up his speed, knowing that you have a quiz due at midnight that you scolded him for forgetting earlier. The grip on his shoulders tighten as this man navigates your body all too well. He knows you like the back of his hand, fucking the spot that causes your body to lose control.

One of his favorite sights in the world is the view of your lips parted open with loud whimpers falling effortlessly. Your eyes roll back into your skull as his hips roll deeper into your walls, the tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

“You’re always the best girl for me, aren’t you?” His hand wraps around your neck when you throw your head back, choking you lightly and your walls grip around his shaft. “I know you’re close. Cum on my dick, baby. Be a good girl.”

Jaemin’s tattoos shine under the moonlight when you peer down at him. His hooded eyes are intoxicated by the pure image of your fucked out body and he’s truly in love. “My good girl, come on baby.” He continues to encourage, his other hand giving you a smack on your ass when he drills mercilessly into you.

The familiar bubbling occupy your lower half and the feeling of release unravels all so suddenly. You fall forward, Jaemin lets go of your neck to hold your limp body close to him, your head on his shoulder as your orgasm overtakes you. He grinds his hips into you to prolong your shaking climax, cooing sweet nothings in your ear as his other hand takes a whole handful of ass to squeeze.

He bottoms out, filling you up to the rim to cum deep inside of you. Jaemin moans loudly, his cum spilling all over your walls. You two sit like that until he grows soft, pampering your temples with gentle kisses. Jaemin remembers to take care of you, no matter what.

While you’re in his arms, he reaches for sanitary wipes in the side compartments. He lifts your hips slowly to pull out and you sigh at the emptiness. Gently, he swipes at the dripping cum from your pussy and makes sure that you’re all cleaned up before getting dressed.

“So, you want to tell me why you’ve been MIA for the past five days?” Rolling your eyes, you pull up your panties and fix the last decency of your hair.

“Car meets that are too far for me to take you.” His thumb rubs your chin lovingly and Jaemin’s eyes are so bright and mesmerizing, you find that it’s hard to look him in the eye at times.

“Not because you’ve been hooking up with other girls?” There is a tinge of sarcasm that laces your rhetorical question and though you don’t expect him to give you an actual answer, you take note of his reaction. Jaemin raises an eyebrow, clearing his throat and looking out the window away from you.

“And if I was?” Truthfully, that question hurt you more than your’s hurt him. His hand rests underneath his chin as he patiently waits for your answer. He admires the clear night sky and the rundown abandoned liquor store that stands all by itself.

“What do you want me to say?” Question after question, a stiff tension replaces the sex of the car.

“I’ll take you back now.” Jaemin crawls back to the driver’s seat, completely ignoring your confused figure. He has always been quite like this: going aloof whenever he wants to dodge something. However, it’s been happening more frequently the past times you two have been seeing each other.

The truth is simple, yet entirely complex at the same time. You and Jaemin aren’t dating, despite always going out together and him posessively introducing you to other men. You and Jaemin aren’t dating.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop you from growing feelings for him and you can tell that this happens too often for the attractive boy. He can’t have a fuckbuddy that won’t fall head over heels for him. But who could really blame you? Even if all this time Jaemin was pretending that he cared about you, he still pampers you like a princess; he still tells you he does.

But when it comes to discussion about advancing into something more, he hides and grows silent. This has you wondering, maybe this entire thing to him is all sex? And he can’t love you back the way you do.

No one knows his heart, not even himself. He’s never wanted to complicate his life, it’s always been about two things: racing and having fun. There is no easy way to explain it all, the thoughts that flood his mind and heart, so he chooses every way to ignore it. Overall, he’s genuinely lost. You are one source of stability in his life that he isn’t willing to let go, ever. But just because he won’t let you go, doesn’t mean that you won’t take the chance to leave when you’re fed up with him.

This has him wondering, how far can he push before he pushes you too far?

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just walk.” Tonight is unsettling, it usually doesn’t end like this. Jaemin locks the car doors and turns around to reach for your hand. “Jaemin, open the door.”

“I want you to say that you hate when I sleep with other people.” Jaemin confesses all too wildly as his hand lightly squeezes around your wrist. “And I want you to mean it.” He’s only speaking words of truth that haven’t had the time to process in his own thoughts.

“I hate when you sleep with other people.” And you do mean it. You mean it more than anything you’ve ever said to this man. Jaemin just sighs, bringing your wrist to his lips for a lasting kiss.

“Can I drive you home?” Jaemin asks softly, eyes dipping down to the leather seats and avoiding all need for eye contact.

“Yes, Jaemin.” He pulls you back into the passenger seat and drapes the soft blanket over your exposed legs. “Hopefully, I still have time to take my quiz.”

“Can I come inside?” Jaemin coolly turns his marble wheel to reverse out of the parking space, a hand resting on the shoulder of your seat as he does a double take behind him for any pedestrians, even if you two are far out in the middle of nowhere and there isn’t anyone around; Jaemin knows you have the hots for him when he does that specific move.

“What do you mean? You’ve already cum inside.”

It’s the sound of disappointment as his tongue tsks at you and he flicks lightly at your forehead. He steps on the acceleration, revving the annoying engine that roars throughout the peaceful night. The multicolored lights illuminate around his stereo and at your feet, creating the Rainbow Road right out of Mario Kart. 

Jaemin isn’t like the others who pay close attention to the details of his car. His motto goes, “if I like it, I’m going to have it.” Whether or not anything matches goes beyond his worries.

In some ways, his car is a mirror of his own personality --- wild and free, colorful and welcoming. And his skills as a driver? Safe, no matter how far the speedometer goes, Jaemin always makes you feel safe.

“I mean come inside your room for aftercare. You know how much I hate leaving you without a proper cuddle.” He pouts and almost immediately his cute baby tone comes out with his beg. Almost subconsciously, Jaemin lays his right palm open facing up to invite yours in. Almost routinely, you lace your hands to complete his hold. Getting Jaemin to smile has never been easier as his hold grows tighter.

“You can’t stay over tonight though. My housemates are doing some Single Girls Only house event tomorrow and it starts immediately when we wake up.” You laugh as the ridiculous words fill the air.

“And you’re participating in that?” Jaemin mindlessly asks and you’re unable to differentiate his implications from the question. Is he asking because the idea is horrendously nothing you’d like to do or he’s implying that you’re not single?

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sounding rather harsher than intended, Jaemin finally realizes how poorly he had worded his previous question. Yet, a part of him feels disappointment whirling in his chest and a desire to feel wanted by you.

“Doesn’t seem like something you’d like: wallowing in your singleness.” He chuckles, remaining lighthearted and playful.

“I really don’t.” Jaemin brings your knuckles up to his lips for a lingering kiss, his eyes darting quickly on the road ahead now that you’ve entered the metropolitan areas and his speed drops significantly to avoid getting ticketed.

“I’ll come pick you up. Instead of being single tomorrow, you’ll be on a date.” When you turn to examine his facial expression, the serious tension in his jawline and focused eyes alarm you. Your stomach twists into knots and if he couldn't already tell, your palms grow sweaty at his offer.

“That’s such a slap in the face to them.” Pulling your hand away from his, you cross your arms and lean your head against the cold window. “I don’t think I can do that to them.”

“I have a race tomorrow.” He starts, his head tilting over at you with his round gorgeous begging eyes, “at least, come to that with me.”

“Okay, but only because I want to see Haechan.” As if it wasn’t moments ago, Jaemin was the one balls deep in you and now you’re spewing enthusiasm for another man. It’s all a joke, a way for you to conceal your undying attraction for Jaemin.

You still remember the first time you met the sunshine that is Haechan and the jealousy that seeped from Jaemin’s words when he noticed the exchange of flirtation. Haechan is someone you’d knowingly gravitate towards: a man with a loud personality that just knows how to conduct every personality in the room. And at that moment, Jaemin couldn’t tell if being more observant was a good or bad thing.

Jaemin never saw himself as outgoing as his other friends, staying more kept in his own circle, but he had the confidence to fake it. He’s bold, rather impulsive and slightly narcissistic, Jaemin knows how to use his strengths very well. 

However, when he saw the soft smirk on Haechan’s face and your shy mannerisms, a small tinge in his chest ignited a died out flame. He didn’t realize it before, but that was the very start of his long tumble of feelings for you.

“Do you say those things to purposefully get me jealous?” Jaemin rests his hand on your thigh, giving it a harsh squeeze. His eyes never leave the road and his tone reverts back to his dominant tone.

“Well, are you jealous?” It’s like you two dance in circles, answer questions with a question does not stop.

And as bratty as your tone is, you don’t expect the quick “yes” that answers back and the smoldering look he gives you briefly before focusing back on the drive.

“Then good.” You huff, ready to hop out of the car after the odd, yet sensual tension. Jaemin pulls up to your house and double parks the car to lean in for a nightly goodbye kiss.

“You’re not coming in?” You try to read his facial expressions, but he hides his emotions too perfectly.

His lips curl into a smile before saying, “I think it’s better I cool off tonight.” And you mindlessly give him a peck, but he holds your face to deepen it. Through the kiss, you can feel the neediness by the way Jaemin shoves his tongue into your mouth. The taste of lust against your palette is difficult to ignore, but your academically responsible mind screams at you about your forgotten quiz.

Your hand lightly taps at his chest and he pulls away, his eyes drinking up your swollen lips. “I have a quiz, Jaemin.”

“I know, sorry. It’s just so easy to get lost in you.” Jaemin kisses your cheek once more before you exit. You smile back at him as his words have grown a strong effect on you lately. Bidding him goodbye, he wishes you sweet dreams as he patiently makes sure you’re fully inside your house.

“Is the music too loud?” Jaemin checks over at your hunched figure in the passenger seat. You’re diligently flipping through your thick textbook, a yellow highlighter in one hand and the other comfortably holding Jaemin’s.

The worst part of college is the never ending midterms that are given at any time. Studying in his car isn’t a rare sight, if anything it is more expected than you not doing anything related to your academics. But Jaemin genuinely doesn’t mind, even being mindful about his own actions to ensure an optimal studying space for you.

He really is an ideal guy. Like his first promise, he keeps you well fed and never once asks you for any monetary pay back. Jaemin adjusts the car temperature before you even step into the vehicle, knowing that you prefer wearing less clothes rather than more. Though he isn’t academically responsible, he still makes the effort to try and understand enough information to pass his classes.

The sole flaw would be the lack of open communication. It’s genuinely difficult for you to read his emotions or intentions. Jaemin always has a dazed look in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and it’s an internal fight about whether or not you’re being delusional.

“Music is fine, honey.” The mindless use of a pet name slips from your lips, but your concentration on neoliberalism and globalization doesn’t allow for you to notice.

Nevertheless, Jaemin catches on immediately to the usage. While he showers you in ridiculous nicknames, you’re not one to do so. “Honey?”

“Yes?” You answer back carelessly, not entirely actively listening to him as you highlight an important concept in your book.

“No, you called me honey.”

Looking up from your page, you blink at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. “I did?”

Jaemin chuckles and finally pulls into the overly crowded parking lot, a whole mass of fanboys cheering at the arrival of his flashy vehicle. Everyone just loves Jaemin.

This familiar scene plays like a reel --- several high beams cast light under the dark sky due to the lack of functioning street lamps, dizzy multicolored cars that blaze the tracks, and the all too distinct smell of musky cologne in the chilly air. Oh, and the wide eye admirable stares when you get out of the car.

“Hi, you’re stunning.” A bold new recruit blinks at you in complete awe and awkwardly clears his throat once he realizes his rash comment.

Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him, then at how you plan on handling the situation. You’re flattered, nonetheless, but know that Jaemin didn’t bring you here to flirt with other men. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy your membership in the Ridin’ Club.”

The gracefulness in your delicate voice has the youthful recruit swooning and subtly giddy as he runs off to join a group of others that have been eying you across the parking lot. Jaemin casually drapes his leather jacket over your exposed shoulders, knowing the temperature change is going to result in you most likely catching a cold and because you never bring a jacket despite his plea.

“The power you hold.” Jaemin winks at you before pulling you into a larger crowd to socialize with more impressionable recruits.

“Ah, so you’re (Y/N)!” The stranger is unrecognizable, but you giggle to acknowledge his confident statement. “We haven’t met before, but Jaemin was talking about you the other night at our motorcycle meet.”

Your eyes light up, as if you’ve unlocked a new fun fact of Na Jaemin. “You drive a motorcycle too?” You’re truly shocked at the talent of this man.

Jaemin snakes his arm around your lower waist to draw you closer to his side. “Yeah, but I can’t fuck you in a motorcycle, can I?”

Before the other men can comment on the obvious sexual tension that Jaemin created, he leans in to whisper into your ear. “Actually, I can, but we’ll save our decency from unwanted exposure.” His hot breath grazes against the shell of your ear and you just know where you two are going to end up tonight.

“Bro, you guys probably fuck in the backseat of his car.” One of them chimes recklessly, punching at each others’ chest playfully as if he made a decent joke.

“Why don’t you stay to find out?” Jaemin retorts and the grip on your hip becomes tighter. You’re too flustered to add much into this odd form of competitive banter, distracted by none other than the way Jaemin keeps glancing over at you with a delicious gleam in his eyes.

“So what? You don’t care about us now?” You’d know that bratty tone from anywhere as Lee Haechan pushes past everyone else to rush over to the both of you.

“Aw, are your feelings hurt?” Jaemin sticks his tongue out at his friend before cordially sharing a handshake with him.

“Just slightly.” Haechan looks over at you with a wide grin and playful eyes, “hello, my pretty girl.”

“Drop the possessives, Haechan.” Jaemin rolls his eyes with an irritable twitch on his lips.

He hates how obviously jealous he gets. It’s something too difficult for himself to control, he’s exhausted his efforts to bite his tongue whenever it comes to other people’s flirtations. The thought of someone else calling you theirs doesn’t sit well with him.

“I understand your jealousy, Jaem. If someone was flirting with (Y/N), I wouldn’t be able to stand it either.” Haechan fixes the falling jacket on your shoulders. “But she can handle herself, I know those pretty lips have a mind of their own.” His gaze drops momentarily, yet obvious enough for you to grow shy at how strong Haechan is coming off tonight.

“Stop trying to corrupt her, that’s my job.” Jaemin playfully pushes at Haechan’s chest and they both break out laughing.

“I haven’t said one thing and you’re both talking about me as if I’m not here.” Your small pout is literally the cutest thing to Jaemin. He physically has to stop himself from planting the sweetest kiss on it.

It’s blatantly clear that you’re hot stuff. You’re the perfect example of a head turner, your captivating aura has its ability to suffocate those around you. However, Jaemin has seen all sides of you, but overall finding you so entirely cute. And oddly enough, Jaemin has a knack for cute things.

“Is that (Y/N) I hear?” Huang Renjun engulfs you in a hug, showing clear affection and doesn’t mind doing so. “How did your project go?”

“It went well. You accomplish a lot when you don’t procrastinate.” Renjun gleams at your statement and if Jaemin is delusional enough, he’d probably mistaken the twinkle in his eyes for infatuation instead of admiration.

“You’re so responsible, why are you messing with Jaemin?” Renjun sighs and though his question is more of a joke, there is some truth behind his words.

Your friendship with his friends differ immensely compared to other girls who have come around. Like Jaemin had said before, his boys were going to like you and they do, a lot. Sometimes making it obvious that you’re too good for him.

Jeno comes up from the side, an unidentifiable bruise on his neck and a new cut on his brow. Lee Jeno being such a rough character, his appearance speaks well about how his day has been.

But when he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all his pain is replaced with joy and security. “(Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in so long!” The enthusiastic boy rushes over to greet you with a warm smile.

“I’m pretty sure I was here a week ago.” You laugh, but welcome him in your arms for a tender friendly hug and pat his head out of habit.

“It’s been a week?! That’s so long.” Jeno narrows his eyes at Jaemin and flicks his forehead.

“Ow!” Jaemin exclaims while rubbing the pain away. “You act like she doesn’t go to the same school as us and therefore, can see her any time you want to.” The tone in Jaemin’s voice raises some eyebrows as they all exchange glances to each other before bursting into laughter.

“Like your jealous ass would allow for that?” Haechan remarks and Jaemin doesn’t outwardly react. However, Jaemin’s hand is squeezing you so tight that you’re more than certain he’s bothered by the comment.

“Oh, stop it. You all know I’m Team Jaemin. He does have the most wins this past month.” You only know that through Jaemin’s proud boasting, anything else in the racing world is unknown to you.

Jaemin situates you in between his legs as he slightly sits on the hood of his car. His arms wrap around your middle and chin rests on your shoulder. Public display of affection isn’t a problem for him, and you learned much earlier that Jaemin can’t keep his hands off of you.

Renjun scoffs at your whimsical fact, in absolute disbelief. “It hurts more hearing you say it. I’m getting my car upgraded, but once it’s done, I’m going to blaze his ass on the tracks.”

“Are you racing today?” Jeno asks the blue haired fellow that clings onto you like a koala.

“Yeah, against a newbie. Apparently he’s really good, so I’m not too sure I’ll win.” Jaemin mumbles into your hair.

“You say that every time, yet you win!” Renjun crosses his arms, weight shifting to his left leg as he pops his hip out. There is always a sense of competition between anyone with Renjun.

Jaemin perks up behind you and when you turn around in his arms, you’re face to face with a beaming smile. “That’s because I have you.” Eyes lock with yours, he isn’t saying that directed to Renjun. Na Jaemin has you wrapped around his pinky, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach are too hard to ignore.

“Alright, lovebirds. Get in your car and let’s start this shit.” Haechan groans and claps his hands to draw the crowd’s attention. Cupping them around his mouth, he roars into the starry night, “let’s roll!”

During the race, Jaemin’s number one priority is to keep you safe. While you’ve sat in his car for a number of times now, it’s different once the loud bang goes off and he’s hitting 100 mph. Tonight’s track is much more dangerous, with twists and turns that can have the vehicle flying weightlessly if he’s not careful.

“You trust me, right?” Jaemin has both hands on the wheel and the engine rumbling as you both anticipate the start of the race.

Spectators watch on the sidelines as if it’s the ultimate battle, but Jaemin doesn’t pay them much mind. He’s more concerned about you instead. “Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You’ve proven yourself that you’re an excellent driver, so let’s win this.”

Jaemin smirks at your encouraging words, feeling a warmth spread across his chest. “I’ll tap out any time you want me to, okay?”

You nod and the initial whip of the car is so intense that you didn’t even register the sound off. It’s not your first race, but it’s been awhile since the last one. When you adjust to the pressure, the lanes in front of you cause a slight queasiness in your stomach.

It’s a two lane windy road that wraps around the mountain side and Jaemin happens to be in the outer lane. All it takes is a second of lost control and you two will hit the metal railings that guard the cliff below. Despite your inner panic, Jaemin guides you through the pooling anxiety that leaves you restless.

“(Y/N), look up and out the window. We’re coming up on the cliff side view, I’ve always wanted to bring you here.” Your eyes land on the dazzling glitter that dances on the ripples of the lake. It’s so vast, the moon high up in the sky is reflected on the water below. It’s a romantic scene of melancholy and bliss. Suddenly, you feel at peace in the middle of this high speed race.

“It’s beautiful, Jaem.” You whisper calmly and he’d reach for your hand to hold, but races take too much wheel control. And he’d turn to look at you, but races take too much concentration on the road ahead.

But throughout every obstacle, he hears the gentleness and the solidarity in your cadence in the midst of all the high stress. He, too, feels peace. He feels calm knowing that you’re simply by his side, even in the face of danger. So, he can finally admit to himself… he genuinely developed feelings for you.

Before you know it, you’re thrusted side to side from the sharp turns and the adrenaline kicks in when the other racer catches up right next to Jaemin. “Fuck,” Jaemin curses underneath his breath and steps harshly on the acceleration. “Baby, I’m going to go a bit faster so hold onto something.” He warns and your hand finds the grab handle. It’s neck and neck at this point.

Usually, you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid becoming too overwhelmed by the sights in front of you. Tonight is different, not entirely knowing why, you’re observing every element that circles around the perimeter.

The finish line is up ahead, but there is no sign that the other racer is slowing down. Then, you see it: the fatal mistake that can cost you both of your lives if you didn’t catch it. “Jaemin, watch out!” You yelp when the other car inches dangerously close, your warning allows Jaemin to make a controlled swerve away from a possible hit.

Jaemin shakes his head and tsks at the recklessness. “Now I know why he’s good. It’s foul play.” He blows his bang out of his eyes and casually says, “thank you for warning me. This is why I need you by my side.”

He makes it to the finish line barely before the other, winning the race by half a second. Jaemin brakes smoothly, tire marks scrapping the concrete below, and you both exit the car to celebrate with everyone else.

But before the mass of eager shouting men make their way over to you two, Jaemin hurries to your side to pull you into a steamy, rewarding kiss. The scene is just like the movies; his hand on your lower back and yours on his chest lightly. His lips taste like triumph, like he had won more than just a simple race against a random stranger. He’s won the best person he could ever have.

You two fled the scene after cussing out the other racer. It was a rare sight to see: Jaemin being all bothered and angry, practically fuming after scrambling back into the driver’s seat. However, your mind had mischievous plans of its own and all it took was one look from his hooded eyes for you to announce that you wanted him --- badly.

Back in your usual abandoned parking lot, Jaemin pauses before following you to the back seats. With the engine off and the dead of the night being absolute silent, the tension remains thick around you two. “(Y/N),” Jaemin is about to confess something he never thought he’d admit. He turns to you sitting in the middle seat with just your panties on and a curious look on your face.

His heart burns and despite being so incredibly aroused, he controls his urges enough to be able to say, “I’m into you.”

“I know you’re into me, that’s how we ended up like this in the first place.” You giggle cluelessly to his words, still not understanding the odd shift in mood and intentions. It’s always his unclear, messy intentions.

Though he can’t entirely figure out his puzzle pieces, he has plenty to connect the dots. “I like you. I want to be in a relationship with you and call you my girlfriend.”

You’re stunned. Did Jaemin just confess to you as you sit in your panties ready to fuck? This softness is different from the sides you’ve seen of him. It’s similar to a lost bunny, wandering grasslands to find a purpose. He looks so fragile, one intense stare and he’d crumble. This softness is vulnerability.

“So do it.” The boldness catches him off guard, but switches on the dominance in him. “If you want me, come show it.”

He climbs over the middle console to push you into the leather seats. “Not acting shy anymore, are you?” Practically ripping your shirt off of you, he cups your breast lightly and flicks at your nipples. Your immediate reaction results in a rush of wetness down your core.

“Before I forget,” sitting up, you share a passionate kiss that you’ve held back long enough. You give it every ounce of feeling you have for him. “If it isn’t obvious enough, I like you too.”

“It’s obvious, baby.” Kissing your nose, he wraps a hand around your throat to lightly push you back down. “But hearing you say it out loud makes me happy.” Jaemin smirks, hand still choking you gently and pampering your jawline with soft kisses.

His free hand reaches down into your dripping panties, circling your clit with your wetness. The sensation causes you to whimper for more. “Daddy, give it to me.” You wiggle in his palm, knowing that the nickname is more than effective.

“My sweet (Y/N) wants to get fucked?” Jaemin rolls your underwear off and rids himself of his own bottoms.

“Yes, please.” Through the darkness, his hard dick stands proudly. Jaemin lines himself up as he thrusts into you without another second of hesitation. He waits for you to adjust to his size, his tip barely grazing your sweet spot. “Fuck…”

“You take me so well, my pretty baby.” Jaemin starts moving his hips, slowly at first to build a rhythm. Taking your legs, he presses them into your chest to fuck you at a deeper angle. And you feel him practically in your guts, his cock pumping against your walls deliciously and bumping into your g-spot. “Do you want more of me?”

Your train of thought is in utter shambles and whatever Jaemin is saying to you barely processes. You’re overwhelmed by a pleasure that fills every system, every part of your body. To answer him, you let out an incoherent noise of approval.

Jaemin pulls your hips down while thrusting forward into you, maximizing every inch of his strokes. This single action causes you to scream and grip onto the headrest. “Who knew my sweet girl could be so fucking dirty?” Jaemin chuckles darkly, his cadence dropping several decibels. “When I first met you, I wanted to ruin you.”

All of his filthy words edge you closer to your release as he continues to repeat his previous motion. He holds your hips in place to grind into you, the feeling of his tip rubbing your walls has your eyes rolling back. “Do you want to cum, (Y/N)?”

“Yes!” You yell, the tight ball in your lower abdomen is bound to break any minute. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You beg and moan, the arch in your back lifts you from the seat of the car. Jaemin snaps his hips into you, drilling you quickly to reach your high. And you break. An euphoric cry fills the air as your walls clench around his length. You hear the extra wetness create a slick noise, but Jaemin isn’t done with you yet.

“You wanted to cum so fucking badly. I’ll reward you with one more for being such a good girl for me.” His thumb flicks at your clit and you convulse into spasms from the sensitivity. Your violently shaking legs can’t hold themselves up anymore and Jaemin rests them on his shoulders. He lines kisses along your ankle as the pleasure overtakes you.

“I don’t think I can do it.” You whine, your fingers twisting and toes curling.

“You are going to try, okay baby?” He coos, but it’s most definitely a demand. He sits back on his knees to pick up more speed, fucking endlessly into your swollen pussy and thumb rubbing fast strips against your bud.

“I’m going to snap, Jaem.” You cry, tears rimming your eyes and before you know it, a second wave hits you. Your second orgasm is ruinous and has you squirming around to regain some sense of control.

“Oh fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Jaemin slows down as your walls grip around him again, tighter this time. “I’m going to fill you up with cum,--- watch it drip out of you.” He grunts while releasing into you, his dick twitching and spraying your insides with white.

He pulls out as hot, white cum spills from your pussy. You take this moment to catch your breath and relax your legs. However, Jaemin coats his two fingers and shoves the cum back into you. “Jaemin!” You exclaim at the sudden intrusion.

He curls them into your plushy walls and finger fucks you into another oblivion. “Wait, again?” Your hands wrap around his wrist, but Jaemin moves too fast for you to catch it.

You’re a moaning mess again, louder than before. Jaemin leans down and flicks his tongue against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. Your back arches automatically and a low animalistic scream rises from your throat.

He observes your body lines underneath the moonlight and the last remaining light the broken street lamps have to offer. Your face contours and you’re so far out into ecstasy that you don’t notice how intensely Jaemin watches you lose yourself.

“It feels too good!” With one last thrilling orgasm, you almost pass out and you see small stars of dizziness. He soaks up every last bit of your cathartic reaction and festers a small sense of pride that he can make you feel all this pleasure.

“Such a good girl. You’re beyond impressive, baby.” Jaemin pulls his fingers out to lick them clean and finds some wipes to help you out of your sticky situation.  

“Now that you’re my girlfriend, can we cuddle at any time now? Not just as after care.” He peers up at you and the one word enacts a burning warmth to spread across your chest. That is the best nickname he can call you by.

“I think the Singles Girls Only house event is still going on, but after that, yes a million times.” You laugh and wrap your arms around him into a big loving hug.

Jaemin feels right at home. All the long years of living carelessly and wild, he’s finally found someone worth the extra mile. While Jaemin was a thriving adventure to be explored, you were his comfort to run back to.

It is through the intimacy of your backseat chronicles that Jaemin was able to fall deeper for you. You’re his lucky charm, for some reason, he always feels better around you.