#so that's one big fucking pile oh mixed feelings for the guy

[loving-delusions]

is anyone gonna say happy birthday to lunar or do i have to do it myself🤨🙄

rambles in the tags bc i can't sleep

[moonheecore]

tysm for doing my prev ask! got me all hot and bothered, you truly never miss!

now requesting K for jake <3

Glad you like it! Keeping my promise of doing K hehe so here you go!

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Messy: I don't know how to properly define this term, but Jake likes it sticky, dirty, and wet, encompassing a plethora of activities under this umbrella. In cum play, he drowns different parts of your body— your ass, your back, your boobs, your face with ropes of his creamy semen. After he eats your pussy, he'll ask you to open your mouth like a good girl and let his drool mix with your arousal spill into your mouth and forcing you to swallow before sucking on your tongue and lips while you kiss each other. In food play, he buys canned whipped cream and decorates your cunt and tits like he's a barista and add some sprinkles before rubbing and grinding his body against yours to spread the mess. When you squirt, you best bet that he'll hold your legs wide for you to spray his face and body, letting you drench the mattress and him with your scent. Just know that whenever you guys have sex, you'll always have a pile of dirty laundry ready to be cleaned.

Somnophilia: The fact that Jake gets so sleepy and tired easily makes me feel like he'll be really into it. He comes home about to shut down from work, but you're pouting at him because he promised you on the phone that you'll fuck tonight. He gives you a defeated sigh and strips his clothes off, laying on the bed and telling you that you can do whatever you want to his body. He watches you with heavy-lidded eyes as you suck his hard cock and play with his sensitive nipples but when he blinks and blacks out for a few seconds due to sleep, he wakes up to you riding on his cock like a toy, watching you grope and play with your tits is enough to make him cum into your warm pussy. He also likes to wake up to morning blowjobs or sex because he's so drowsy from waking up that it makes him ten times more horny. He easily slides his cock inside of you the moment he wakes up, rocking his hips while closing his eyes, letting out small desperate moans because he's too sleepy to move faster.

Fingering: Oh, this man knows you have a thing for his hands and fingers— big, slender, soft, and veiny. The way you shamelessly stare at them when he adjusts his rings or flexes his hands is just too obviously cute. He'll trace your swollen folds to collect your wetness on his finger before plunging his digits one by one to stretch your perfect hole until he can feel slick dripping down your thighs. The way your walls are clamping on his fingers makes him go faster, curling them to the side until he's pressing against the spongy spot of your cervix repeatedly. His thumb presses on your clit, circling the bundle of nerves with a rapid pace. Jake won't stop even after you've cummed and lets you ride your orgasm, coating his fingers enough before sliding them into your mouth, forcing you to suck them clean before he thrusts his fingers back into your spent cunt, wanting to taste your sweet nectar as well. It's also so easy to do it in public, to have you sit on his lap or at his side, telling you to open your legs like a good girl and push your panties to the side to have some fun.

send an ask based on the NSFW alphabet template together with one or more members in the hyungline.

[according2thelore]

keep goinngggggggg!!! just sitting here reading your snippets of the early and late season interactions and loving the goodness. ty for sharing bc the brainstorming sessions are amazing.

hi!!!!!

AGH! i'm so glad you've been enjoying! :) i wrote a little snippet, i hope you enjoy~!

sam scowls at the mirror. yeah, this is definitely not his shirt. it looks like something he would wear, but the sleeves are way too big, and the shirt drapes off of his torso like a kid playing dress-up in dad's closet.

sam picks at the fabric, suddenly too annoyed for words. it's his, isn't it? figures they'd both have the same taste in clothes. at least one thing in this goddamn world isn't unrecognizable.

sam shucks the shirt over his head, quickly grabbing another shirt from the pile--one of dean's old shirts, a faded metallica tee--and pulling it on.

he opens the door to the bedroom, and looks up and down the labyrinthian hallway. did every single one have to look identical? sam tries to remember what older dean had told him the night before.

(okay, so from your bedroom, it's a left, left, then right to the kitchen. two wrongs make a right. i'll be there if i'm not in the garage most days, probably. in case you were wondering. from here to the library, it's a right, left, then two rights. if you see a death ray, you've gone too far.

a death ray? sam interrupted, sharply. the older version of his brother waved his hand, and made a pshaw noise.

it's not actually a death ray. just looks like one. picture a death ray in your head? that's what it looks like. big ugly thing, probably gave scooby a headache in his day.)

sam takes a right, left, then two rights. sure enough, sam is sitting at the table in the library. well, 'sammy.'

after the fifth time of dean--sam's dean, the 2006 one--said "sam?" in a frantic tone, and both sams jumped up to calm him down, they had to come up with a system.

the older dean immediately pointed at 2006 sam and said, "sammy." with a happy smile. sam protested a-fucking-lot. sammy was for a fat little kid with a pinwheel hat. sam was sam. the older version of sam sighed heavily, like sam even being here was beleaguering.

"i can be sammy," he said, "even though i'm thirty-six. he's not going to agree to it." he nodded at sam like he knew him at all, and sam still kind of hates him for it. he didn't hate the guy at first--i mean, come on, a chance to meet his future self--untapped potential! sam had so many questions. but so far...sammy's been a disappointment.

"hey," sam calls now, and sammy's head pops up over his research.

sammy checks his watch, "shift change already?"

they had been doing research in shifts on how to take 2006 sam and dean back, to no result yet. sam shakes his head, and holds up the offending shirt.

"no, mixed laundry." he tosses it at sammy, who catches it with a fluid movement. sam eyes sammy with a wary eye.

how did they get so good at everything? sam feels unfairly trapped in the "before" picture of a healthcare ad.

"oh," sammy says, folding the shirt with his massive bear-paw hands. "sorry about that."

"anything?" sam asks, nodding at the books. sammy shrugs, rubbing a hand at his temple.

"not yet--" he starts, but someone knocks at the doorframe.

both sams turn to look. dean--sam's dean--is standing there awkwardly, shuffling on his feet.

"what's going on in here?" dean asks, hesitant. his arms cross over his chest, and his words sound like, what did you do, sam? what did you say this time?

sam doesn't know when dean--his dean--stopped being on his side, but he hates him for it. sam looks back at his older self. dean's so defensive over him, even though the guy can clearly take care of himself. older sam tucks a strand behind his ear and also crosses his arms, two huge barrels on either side like a goddamn white water raft or something. he looks only amused, a soft look on his face like he's observing two puppies trip over a ball.

sam hates that, too. that sammy always acts like he knows exactly what's going on in sam's head--every ugly, hideous thing. and worse, he's all condescending about it--holier than thou about it. i know what you're thinking, and it's cute. your animosity is as adorable and non-threatening as a puppy nibbling on my ankle. sam scowls.

sammy's eyes slide over sam's shoulder, to dean. sam tries to straighten his spine so sammy can't see over him, but sammy's smile is just as soft and knowing.

sam looks behind him, helpless to it. dean is flushed, eyes firmly on a bookshelf in the corner like he's leaning on the doorway for no reason at all, like he just happened to be there and forgot they were in the room.

that might be the absolutely worst goddamn thing about this whole situation.

"not a damn thing." he says, but he means, where did you go, dean? why do you love this guy so much? how the fuck am i supposed to be this golden-idol-version of myself to you?

sam wants to turn around and tell himself (god, he'd never get used to that), stay away from him. he's not yours. back the fuck off.

but he won't. and he doesn't. he shoulders past dean, feels the heat of his skin, and back into the hallway.

older dean is probably around here somewhere. sam looks up and down the empty hallway. kitchen. definitely kitchen. guy makes a mean burger. that's the only reason sam's seeking him out right now.

the only reason at all.

anywhoooo...hope you enjoyed! :)

-lizzy

[thesinglesjukebox]

TEDDY SWIMS - "LOSE CONTROL"

Harkening back to a time when music made you shake, rattle, and roll...

[3.79]

Will Adams: Must be love on the brain. Or maybe just water in my ear. [4]

Ian Mathers: When will The Black Keys be held accountable for what they have unleashed upon the world? [3]

Jacob Satter: "He began playing instruments including piano and ukulele, and watched YouTube videos of singers to help develop his vocal technique. [4][5]" -- Wikipedia [4]

Thomas Inskeep: Oh, yay: another big-bearded, face-tatted white boy who thinks he's somehow "soulful" because he heard a Stax record once. And much like Post Malone and Jelly Roll before him, throw him on the burn pile. [1]

Scott Mildenhall: A great audition: four chair turns and a message from Rag'n'Bone Man. All theatrics are plausibly deniable, but the vocal capabilities are conspicuous, with there never being enough of a song to intrude on them. A strong message to the detractors of treading water in the natatorial world. [5]

Nortey Dowuona: The history of soulful white boys is long and strained. The Righteous Brothers are one example, but they never got more than one big immortal hit (only one did: Bill Medley). There's Michael McDonald, Bobby Caldwell, Tom Jones, and, of course, Fucking Drake. Each time a soulful white boy appears, he does appear acceptable, but only up to a point. Once that point has been breached, his existence becomes an anchor -- not a boon -- receiving enmity and bitterness for both his success and his inability to possess the skill demanded from truly soulful singers. As time has gone on, the five-alarm church runs that once ran R&B have gone out of style with the youngsters, unless coated in patiently brush-stroked Autotune. Even though live performances are a crapshoot with many of them, their excellent songwriting kept them aloft. Sometimes, their voices were so pretty that their lack of range didn't bother us. Now, another soulful white boy who possesses the runs (with scalpel-level Melodyne on them) has risen to the top. The worst part is that his song is well-produced: done by Ammo and Julian Bunetta, a trained jazz drummer whose heavy-handed soul drums anchor the thin mix. The plaintive keys shuffle against the tambourines gently, as Bunetta's bass lopes below and follows the key of the keys. But the songwriting from Mikky Ekko drags down this fantastic effort, leaving a held-back guitar solo by Bunetta bashing its neck against the withholding mix of Serban Ghenea. If only Brent Faiyaz was writing this... [6]

Tara Hillegeist: Oh, this is a very passably lovelorn piece of uptempo romantic angst, the kind that sounds like it could just as easily have dropped off the back of Cee-Lo Green's tour bus, circa "Fuck You." But it's not so passable that I can't help but have my main response to it all be "Wow, your man's such a tatted-up white lad, looks like he belongs on the set of a Guy Ritchie film, innit?" And now I've had that thought, I have to ask myself: when's the last time I heard something like this from someone who didn't, whose name wasn't T-Pain? And now I've asked myself that question, I have to wonder: should that question still matter? [6]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: This is a good time to admit that I always thought Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy” was a terrible, plodding song. This sounds like a mellower, simplfied version of that. I find the almost-rapped verse kind of sweet, reminiscent of Ed Sheeran if he had a bit more soul, but then the guitar solo arrives and makes me feel disgust. It is not lost on me that this isn’t so far from Portishead’s “Glory Box.” The difference is that it all feels so rote, the elements already pre-packaged with an understanding of their meaning and import, and they don’t ever come together to bring the track to a greater whole. [4]

Hannah Jocelyn: Does nothing new in this type of song (except for the weird keyboard warble, which I'm not convinced is a good innovation because it sounds like "Dance Monkey (slowed + reverb)"), but the production from Julian Bunetta is phenomenal -- incredibly warm, but with enough muscle that what's probably just a drum loop from Splice sounds massive. Teddy Swims is very much in the Rag'n'Bone Man/Jelly Roll vein of gruff belters, but there's a warmth in his voice that prevents him from coming across like Mr. Roll or, worse, Oliver Anthony. [6]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I get no enjoyment at all from listening to this. Every pained vocalization, every flanged guitar stab and demonstrative snare hit feels empty to me; whatever feelings Swims has do not survive transit. And yet, I feel a certain perverse respect for "Lose Control" despite all this. Perhaps it reminds me too much of the soul revival tracks that my high school pop ensemble teacher favored, the Fitz & The Tantrums-alikes that I dutifully jammed out to for four years. It's not a style that moves me at all anymore, but as I listen to "Lose Control," I can almost conjure bass tabs and keyboard charts to memorize and devote myself to (and can imagine the students of a semester from now who will be playing along to teenage takes on Teddy Swims' adult melodrama). [4]

Alfred Soto: The echo, horn blasts, and Soulful White Man vocal evoke a pop climate at least a decade past obsolescence, a reminder that a certain overstatement will always serve as a crutch. [4]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: This song makes perfect sense if you just picture the woman he’s singing about standing next to him the entire time.  [3]

Leah Isobel: This man said "problematic" like he's on the Tumblr dash in 2011. [1]

Katherine St. Asaph: Thoughts and prayers for anyone persuaded to fuck to this song. [2]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[fattestwriting]

Punk Mitsuru getting her already big belly bloated up with cum by sucking off her lover/feeder while being filmed? It's a follow up to the last ask where she got a boyfriend and dropped out of college. Let's replace the boyfriend aspect with just a they/them feeder though. That way I can visualize a guy, you can visualize a nice feeder futa gal, and everyone else can visualize whoever they want, win-win! (Weight: 600 pounds, Vore: No, Gassiness: Her belches and farts are nondestructive, but stink and last longer than an ordinary person's would. There's a focus on belching this time around~)

(OKAY, so this one would be 2nd in the Mitsuru arc. I still feel bad for missing this one.)

-----

It had been a week since Mitsuru had gotten with her (newly gender neutral) partner, Alex. In this time, they had done a lot of things. She had been leaned onto the typical American diet of several thousands of pounds of junk food per meal, she had begun to finally let loose enough to release farts and braps in public, and the two of them had begun experimenting with sex. But today was special. Today was Mitsuru's birthday, and Alex was gonna give her the best gift they could think of. First, they rented out an all you can eat buffet for their girlfriend. They had the kitchen staff cook everything they had and then kicked them out. This time was for just the two of them.

Mitsuru was amazed to see the feast layed out before her, which is saying a lot from a girl who ate at least a ton for every meal. The food pile laying before her stretched from floor to ceiling and filled nearly the whole dining room area. Mitsuru was so excited about it she didn't even thank her partner, instead jumping right in (literally). Noodles, burgers, ribs, chilli, tacos, and pizza covered her as much as they entered her. She guzzled down tons of soup, slurped down a countries worth of noodles, and ate enough burgers to make up 100 farms worth of cattle. By the end of it, she was stuffed. Her belly was huge, her ass couldn't fit out the door, and her bowels were gurgling.

*BBBBBBBBBBBBBWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOUUUUUUURRR PPPPPPPPPPP*

"You sound positively stuffed doll~"

Alex lightly tapped Mitsuru's belly, only for her to release an even bigger expulsion. This one permiated well beyond what it should have been able to, leaking into the streets and over the whole city. It was vile, but Alex was used to it.

"You look like you're ready for your real gift!"

"This wasn't-"

*BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPBBBBB*

"This wasn't it?"

"Of course not! It's your birthday, you think I'd leave it at just feeding you a centuries supply of food? That's called a binge night for you! No, what I have planned is much, much better! Now, follow me."

After some effort, Mitsuru rolled off of her belly and broke her way through the wall of the building so she could follow her love. But she found that all of this food was making her tired and lethargic.

"Honey, can we, huff, can we take a break?"

"Of course, sweetie. That's perfect, actually! Your actual gift can start right now!"

"Hey, what do you me-"

As if to answer Mitsuru's question before she could ask it, Alex shoved their huge 10 foot cock right into Mitsuru's ass. The force, mixed with the pressure of Mitsuru's stomach meant-

*BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPBBBBB*

That Mitsuru released yet another ungodly brap. This one tinted the entire county's air green, and with every subsequent thrust from Alex, Mitsuru released more.

"Honey- UUUARP- you have to- BWWWWWUUUAAAPPP- stop! We're in- AAAAUUUUURRRRRRPPPPP- WE'RE IN PUBLIC!"

"Oh, don't worry babe, America doesn't have any kind of- nnnph- public sex laws. Plus, I hear you while you masturbate at night. All your- nnnng- all your fantasies include me fucking you in public, like the cow you are."

As Alex kept butt fucking their girlfriend, a crowd began to form. A crowd with cellphones, nothing better to do, and an online following to gain.

"Babe! StoooOOOOOOOUUUURRRP- People are filming me!"

"I know! And by how tight you're getting, I can tell you LOVE IT!"

It was true. She was embarrassed beyond belief, but it was the horniest she had ever been, well, until about 2 seconds later when Alex dumped their massive first load into her. Her stomach physically bulged, despite all the food already inside of it. Mitsuru could barely think.

"Ho- BUUWWWWARP- honey, you finished, we... We... AAAAOOOOUUURRRRRP, we should go hoOOOOOUURRRRP, home now-"

"But I'm not done, darling. And by how sopping wet you are? I can tell you aren't either~"

And so Alex fucked their girlfriend for another 24 hours straight. By the time it was over, Mitsuru was mindless and bigger than the country, but it was worth it. She had finally gotten another step closer to being a true American girl. And as for the videos? They were everywhere. Everyone on the planet knew her as the average American slut. But you know what? She didn't care. She was happy. And the embarrassment meant she would get sopping wet anytime she left the house from now on, which both of them were very okay with.

[luminnara]

Nesting | alpha!kiribaku x omega!reader fluff

Something soft and fluffy w a/b/o dynamics w kiribaku? Or just one of them if you don’t do poly things

Oh ho ho, don’t you worry I LOVE poly things! I especially love kiribaku x reader because like, how can you NOT lol

I made this super sweet and nice because I crave that feel good fluff! This is SFW but there’s a little mention of some adult stuff. Nothing past that though!

Requests are open!

Warnings: none

Gender neutral reader

Having two alphas wasn’t typical, at least not as far as you knew. Yeah, you were sure that there were all kinds of people and arrangements out there, but you had never really heard of alphas being willing to share an omega. Most of the time, they just got too possessive; when alphas went into ruts or omegas into heats, the pheromones being pumped into the air were sometimes strong enough to ruin entire friendships.

Not for you, though.

When the three of you became a thing, there was no drama. There was no fighting between the two boys, no conflict. You hadn’t really set out to date both of them, but, well...one thing led to another, and next thing you knew, you were all living in an apartment together, and you had two big mating marks on your neck.

It all happened so naturally. It was almost as if the three of you were fated to be together, or something. Yeah, you had your disagreements—Katsuki’s temper was infamous, and Eijiro could almost be too nice sometimes—but what relationship didn’t have a few spats here and there? Your fights never lasted long, and all in all, you were happier than you ever thought possible.

“I’m home!” Eijiro’s voice called, followed by the sound of the door closing.

But of course you already knew. You could smell him the second he walked in, and you were already up and running towards him.

“Whoa, hey!” He laughed as you launched yourself at him, catching you easily and grinning that shark grin of his. “Miss me or somethin’?”

“I always do,” you smiled, hooking your arms around his neck.

His hands settled on your butt as he held you, and he nuzzled into your neck. Both alphas always wanted to be covered in your scent, but Kirishima especially loved it, constantly shoving his nose against the glands and sometimes rubbing his entire head over them. He once told you that he liked being able to smell you on him even when you weren’t around, and the thought of him strutting around at the agency, absolutely reeking of you, made you blush whenever it crossed your mind.

“Is Katsuki home yet?” He asked, walking you down the entry hall and into the living room.

“No,” you sighed. “I think he’s working late tonight...”

You tried not to let your disappointment sound in your voice, but it was impossible to hide anything from Eijiro. He knew how stressful it could be, with both him and Katsuki working as some of the top pro heroes in the city. There were plenty of days where they both came home late, too tired to do anything other than drag themselves into bed and curl up around you. It had a tendency to leave you feeling dejected and alone, and lately, you had taken up a new hobby to try to distract yourself.

Well...hobby was a loose word. It was more just...something you had found yourself with the sudden urge to do, and tonight, the fruits of your labor were finally ready to be revealed.

When Kirishima stepped into the living room, he stopped, and you knew he had seen it.

“Hey, is that...?” He asked, voice trailing off as he stared.

You wiggled out of his arms, beaming up at him as soon as you were standing on your own. “A nest? Sure is!”

The look on your boyfriend’s face was priceless. His eyes were wide, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The living room floor was covered in blankets and pillows, all strategically piled up to form the best, coziest nest you could make. As Kirishima took a step closer, he spotted a few of his shirts and hoodies mixed in, a grin finding its way onto his face.

“Babe,” he finally spoke up, his voice soft, “are you really nesting?”

A small blush crept to your cheeks as you nodded, suddenly feeling shy. “Yeah, I guess so...I dunno where it came from really, I just started getting the urge to make it...”

Suddenly, he swept you up into his arms again, a loud, humming purr vibrating in his chest as he gave you a squeeze with those strong arms of his. “It looks amazing, baby.”

You sighed happily, relaxing against him. “Do...do you wanna come try it out with me?”

He almost dropped you again in shock. “H-huh?”

“Yeah!” you freed yourself from his grip once more and grabbed his hand, giving him a tug. 

“Y-you trust me enough...?” his face was adorably surprised, eyes wide as he let you pull him towards your nest.

“Well yeah, duh!” you plopped down in the center of all the blankets and clothes, smiling up at him as he stood over you. “Of course I trust you...you and Katsuki are the best alphas anyone could ask for. Why do you think I felt safe enough to even make a nest?”

You could swear you saw some tears welling up in his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. “Fuck, I love you so much...”

“Then c’mere, silly,” you laughed lightly, patting the space next to you. 

He finally obliged, hunkering down and sighing happily as he surrounded himself with your scent. The nest was cozy, but big enough for three, and as you waited for Katsuki to get home, you found yourself chattering to Eijiro about exactly how it was made, what shirts you had snagged from his and Katsuki’s drawers, why you had piled up those pillows over there and those way over there, why every single plush in the apartment was strategically placed on top of everything else, and why he kept finding more and more of his belongings buried amongst the blankets. 

“Babe, this is mine,” he said, holding up an old, fraying wallet. 

“Yes, and?” you snatched it out of his hand, tucking it back in its spot. “You never use it. And it smells just like you.”

He chuckled, putting an arm around you and pulling you up against his chest while he continued to explore the nest. “Still can’t believe you went and did all this so quickly. You must have been working nonstop all day.”

You puffed up proudly, but before you had the chance to reply, you heard the door slam open and the sound of heavy boots stomping in. A warm, smoky-cinnamon smell wafted in, and you trilled happily. Katsuki was finally back home, and as you stood up on your knees, you saw him kicking his shoes off and hanging his coat up by the door. 

“Oy, I’m home,” he called tiredly, too busy putting on his house slippers to glance over at you yet. “Shitty hair, where are you? You make it back alive today?”

“Still in one piece, Katsuki,” Kirishima laughed, leaning back on his hand as you shot out of your nest to greet your other alpha.

“That’s something, I guess.” Bakugou grunted, turning towards the kitchen. He was moving slowly, like all of his muscles ached and he just wanted to go to bed. 

You weren’t about to let him, though. Not yet.

“Katsukiiiiiii,” you called, scrambling up onto the couch to get a better look at him. 

“Hey there, kitten.” he tossed his bag down in its usual place at the table, finally looking up at you. 

You saw his usually harsh gaze soften as his red eyes met yours, something close to the beginning of a smile tugging at the edges of his lips. Katsuki was a rough guy, always grumpy even while he was out there being one of the best heroes in the city, but at home, he was quieter. Home was a safe place for him, and even though he was still a handful, he was your handful, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world...although right now, you were starting to get irritated by the fact that he had yet to see the nest you worked so hard on.

“What’re you two losers doin’ down there?” he asked, walking towards you lazily. “Fuckin’ on the living room floor, without me?”

“Katsuki, come on.” you rolled your eyes. 

“What? It’s a valid question.” he said as he finally reached you, placing his hands over yours where they rested on the back of the couch. He closed his eyes, tilting his head up for you in an open invitation. “Miss me today?”

You nuzzled up against his chin, feeling him relax around you as you pumped out a happy, pheromone-filled scent for him. “Why don’t you take a look at what I spent all day doing, and then you tell me?”

He sighed, grumbling something under his breath as he cracked his eyes open. Then, he fell absolutely still, and when you pulled back and looked up at him, you saw that he was staring, eyes wide in disbelief. He had frozen completely, as if he had absolutely no idea how to process what he was seeing.

“Like it?” you asked, following his gaze back to your nest. 

Kirishima was still sitting in the center of it, resting one arm on his knee while he supported his weight on the other. There was a gentle, lazy smile on his face, and as he saw that Bakugou wasn’t moving, he tossed his head. “Katsuki, come see what our little omega worked so hard on.”

“Yeah, Katsuki.” you hopped off the couch, walking around the end of it to take his hand and drag him towards your nest. “Come join us.”

He let you pull him down, and for a moment, all he could do was take a deep breath and inhale the scents of his two mates. Ever so slowly, his face relaxed, and as the three of you snuggled in, he pulled you close and pressed a kiss against your forehead.

“What do you think?” you asked, getting cozy between your two boys.

“It’s fucking perfect, baby.” he said. “You’re fucking perfect.”

“Guess we’re not too bad at this whole alpha thing after all, huh?” Kirishima asked, leaning forward to greet Bakugou with a light kiss. 

“Never said we were.” Katsuki huffed, bristling for a moment before he calmed down. “Still...there are some alphas who never get to see their omega’s nest, let alone be invited in. I guess...you must feel pretty safe with us.”

“I do!” you chirped, grabbing a blanket and pulling it over yourself. “I’m happy. Well...I made this nest because I was getting so lonely during the day, and I wanted to be able to smell you guys while you were gone...”

The boys frowned at each other. 

“...but just making it made me feel better.”

You heard Katsuki sigh in relief as Eijiro gently headbutted you. 

“We have been working a lot lately...” he said quietly. 

“So we’ll change that,” Katsuki said roughly. “Our omega comes before anything. If you aren’t happy, what’s the point?”

You couldn’t help the wide smile on your face as you tugged them both down for a kiss, one by one. You spent the rest of the evening cuddled up in your nest, falling asleep on top of your boys, happy to finally, finally be getting the quality time you had been missing so much lately.

[bnhabadass]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader Genre: Smut, 18+, Mafia AU Trope: Woke up married Dialogue Prompt: “Aren’t we supposed to be working?”  Warnings: overdosing on cold medicine, mixing cold medicine with alcohol, dub-con, mentions of sex while unconscious, vomiting Word Count: 4,480

This is my contribution to this month’s bnharem collab. I was so happy when I spun the roulette wheel and it landed on my favorite au, the mafia au. I hope you all enjoy and make sure to check out everyone else’s contributions here. Also a big thanks to @doinmybesthere​ for being my beta reader and putting so much work into creating the master list for this collab.

“A fever? Are you fucking kidding me?”

You winced at the voice coming out of your phone. You were curled up in bed, a heavy futon draped over your achey, chilled body. “I’m really sorry,” you croaked into the receiver. “I can’t get out of bed; there’s no way I’ll be able to come into work today.”

“You know how important tonight’s meeting is.”

You could feel the fire in the eyes of your underboss as he spat at you about how important tonight’s festivities were. You couldn’t care less. You hated the guy, but more importantly you hated your father for getting you in this mess.

A debt needed to be paid and your family couldn’t afford to take out a second mortgage on the house. So your father, as smart as he thought he was, went to the nicest restaurant on the far side of town where the boss of one of the most dangerous mobs in the city stationed his office.

A debt for a debt. That’s what he told you as he came home smiling with a big check in his wallet. No one in your family knew where he got the money, but he seemed confident enough that he’d be able to pay it back.

A month went by and one day, three scary men knocked on your apartment door. They said they were there to “collect”.

You were terrified. You thought they were there to rob you, to take the money you had been saving in a rainy-day fund. But no, they came to collect you. Now, it’s been four months and you’re still stuck doing odd jobs for them--grocery and coffee runs as well as spending reports and other money related things you are less than qualified to do.

You hate your job. You hate having to put up with the unorthodox hours and the unsavory jobs and the complaints about your work ethic and the having to do it over again because you didn’t do it right the first time. You want out. If you weren’t positive that if you left they would be able to hunt you down, you would have fled the country by now.

But your father’s debt still hasn’t been paid.

“Look,” you pleaded. “I can come in tomorrow and work double my usual time. Please, Kirishima-san, I just need the day to rest.”

“Not a chance. You’re coming in today and that’s final. If you don’t, well, then maybe we need to take an extra payment from your parents.”

Before you could even process what he just said, he hung up the phone.

Another payment from your parents. You couldn’t possibly let them take any more from your family. With a new threat looming over your head, you mustered up enough strength to push off of your futon and get dressed for the clients’ dinner.

By the time it was 7:00 in the evening, you had taken a large swig of cold medicine and were ready to spend the night serving these criminals.

Outside of the restaurant, two bodyguards were stationed at the front door and one at the back entrance. All three of them were dressed in black from head to toe. You, on the other hand, were tasked with serving your boss’s clients, so your outfit differed from theirs.

You were dressed in attire suited for waiting tables. Black slacks stretch across your legs and your pristine shirt was smoothed against your body. A tight black vest clung to your chest and pressed against your boobs, squishing them together. If it weren’t for the fever, chills, and headache, you would look like you belonged with this crowd of criminals.

You flashed your ID to the guard at the back door and he nodded you in. Your eyes had to adjust to the fluorescent kitchen lighting, but once they did you saw how busy everyone was. It truly was one of the most important nights for your boss, so you understood why you were needed. Still, this night would truly take the most out of you.

“Oi, (L/n),” one of your boss’s associates called for you. “Take these to table four. I’ve been covering your ass for the last twenty minutes.”

“Of course, Kaminari-san.” You bowed your head and skirted over to the table where two well-dressed men spoke with one another in a hushed tone. You placed their meals in front of them and bowed your head.

“Wait,” one of them called as you began to walk away. “I asked for a Jasmine tea. This is Sencha.”

“Yeah,” the other one piped up. “And I asked for a Sencha tea and this is Jasmine.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to yell into the abyss and slap those men across the face. But of course all you did was bow in apology and take the cups back. Kirishima’s words to you over the phone rang loud and clear in your mind.

“Anything they need, you get it for them. These are important people the boss works with and we can’t have idiots like you messing this up for us.”

The men smirked at you and as you turned around to grab their “correct orders,” the man who ordered the Jasmine tea leaned over to leave a hard, painful smack across your ass.

You froze but didn’t say anything and walked away.

It was still early in the night but you had run yourself thin. You needed to sit down or to at least take a sip of water, but there was no room for breaks as you bounced from table to table getting the people what they wanted. You had even left the venue a couple times to retrieve items like the proper creamer one client required in their coffee.

Your throat was so sore and dry and it was aching for a break. Your entire body was aching for a break. But as you saw someone sitting at one of the tables raise her hand to wave you over, you had to put all of your aches aside to tend to her needs.

“Good evening, ma’am.” You bowed your head. “How may I assist you?”

A small smile was on her dark red painted lips. She seemed to be searching for something as she eyed you up and down. “Do you happen to know when Bakugou-san will be joining us?”

Bakugou-san… Were you supposed to know who that is? You had never heard the name before, although you knew your boss had many ties throughout the district. It could be one of them.

“I’m not sure,” you answered honestly. “I could ask my supervisors if they happen to know.”

She waited a moment. She seemed to be searching for something in your expression. “That’s all right. You may go back to work now.”

You bowed and thanked her.

Bakugou-san.

The name did sound familiar, but you’re not sure where you could have heard it. It wasn’t until you were deep in thought, trying to recall where you had heard the name, that you could feel something pushing up against your throat. Oh god. Your stomach was churning.

You ran to the bathroom, pushing someone out of the way to get there. You’d probably hear an earful from Kirishima for pushing a guest, but you needed to find a toilet before--

Oh no.

You barely made it into the stall before emptying the contents of your stomach onto the white tiles of the bathroom floor. Your legs collapsed from under you and you kneeled in your vomit as you coughed up your stomach lining into the porcelain bowl.

Tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breathe while hacking everything you had into the toilet. The black eyeliner you threw on before leaving the house had smudged into raccoon eyes around your lashes.

You rested your cheek against the toilet, ignoring all of the germs that were most likely crawling up your skin and into your pores. The toilet seat felt cool against your burning cheek and watering eyes. You thought you could die happily here, kneeling on the bathroom tiles in a pile of your slowly cooling vomit.

“Aren’t we supposed to be working here?”

Your eyes shot open, and in trying to stand up you slipped. Your ass landed in the smeared vomit. You winced and let out a drawn out, “fuuuck.”

It took you a moment before opening your eyes again and looking up at the man in front of you. And boy did your eyes widen. He was clearly a guest at the clients’ dinner. His blonde hair was slicked back and the bulge of his muscles under his crisp black button down didn’t go unnoticed by you. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms and as he crossed his arms over his chest, his sleeves began to tighten.

“Who the hell are you and why are you puking on the floor?”

It took you a second to find your voice. “I’m, um...” you trailed off. “(L/n), sir.” You cleared your throat. “I am a worker for the person hosting this dinner.” You tried to stand up and bow, but he put a hand up to stop you.

“You work for them.” It was a statement not a question, but you nodded anyway. “Why? What do you owe?”

You’re not sure why he was asking, but his intimidating glare compelled you to answer his every question. “My dad owes them money,” you admitted. “And he wasn’t able to pay them back.”

“Who do you mean by them?”

You weren’t sure how to answer. You didn’t even know what these people did. For all you knew they were drug mules or assassins. You never wanted to know what they did when you were roped in. After all, the less you knew meant you could have more of a normal life. “The boss,” you finally answered. Who the boss was, you weren’t sure. You answered to Kirishima but he didn’t have much power aside from ordering around you and every other person unfortunate enough to be roped into working for them.

The man in front of you scoffed. “Get up.”

You scrambled to your feet, ignoring the wave of nausea that hit you. The man led you out of the bathroom, and as you walked behind him, people who passed the two of you stopped and stared. Oh no, it had to be from the vomit stains on your leg and down your shirt. You probably stank to high hell and your eyes wouldn’t stop watering from your fever.

The man stopped and you had to keep from bumping into him. “There’s an extra work shirt in the closet,” he said. “There should also be some slacks in there. Leave your dirty clothes in a pile and I’ll have someone collect them.”

His voice was demanding and it took you a moment to register what he said. It wasn’t until he snapped in your face that you moved.

“We don’t have all day, princess.”

You flinched and nodded before scurrying into the closet and flicking the light on. Inside the closet was the restaurant’s sad excuse for a boiler room. The low humming from the machinery brought you back into the present as you searched for the change of clothes you were promised.

There was a crisp white shirt folded on one of the shelves as well as a few different slacks in varying sizes. The shirt was a size too small, so you had to leave the first couple buttons popped open. Before leaving the closet, you tried to think about who the man was and why he was helping you. Was it possible that he wanted something in return?

When you emerged from the closet, he looked you up and down. You were too tired, however, to notice his lingering glare on your chest and the way the button down squeezed your breasts closer together.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes. You’re not sure why you were too scared to look into his vermillion eyes, but the way he called you princess earlier as he snapped at you had definitely made you tremble in your core, and you swore that if you looked up to meet his eyes, your fever would only go higher and higher.

“Why the hell’d you come here if you were sick anyway? Are you trying to poison everyone in the damn building?” His words were like little bullets that shot at every one of your doubts of coming in tonight.

You thought back to why you had come in the first place. You were huddled up in your futon that morning when Kirishima called. You begged to stay home, right? But you couldn’t. You squinted hard as you tried to remember why you weren’t allowed to rest. “I was threatened,” you thought out loud. It wasn’t directed towards the man but he nodded in any case.

“(L/n) was it, right?”

You finally managed to look up at him with bleary eyes. “Yeah, um...” You couldn’t seem to remember what his name was. Wait, he hadn’t told you. He had just led you around and given you new clothes, but he never properly introduced himself.

“Bakugou Katsuki,” he said as if he could read your mind. His lips turned up into a smirk. “But call me Katsuki.”

“Katsuki,” you mumbled. “Bakugou Katsuki.” You had heard that name before, but where. “Bakugou,” you mumbled again as if you were trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. “Bakugou-san.”

He quirked an eyebrow up at you.

“Oh!” It hit you like a ton of bricks and as soon as you shot up, you had to recoil because of the ache in the back of your neck. “There’s a woman looking for you, Bakugou-san, er, Katuki,” you bowed.

He just chuckled. “There’s a lot of people looking for me tonight. Who was it?”

That’s a good question. You squinted as if you were looking deep into your memories to remember who it was who asked for him. “She was a woman,” you remembered. “With long dark hair and dark red lips.”

Katsuki nodded. “I see the Yaoyorozus are here.”

The Yaoyorozus. You weren’t sure what that could mean but you didn’t feel like questioning it, so you nodded instead.

Katsuki was looking down at you. His arms were crossed over his chest but a smirk that had been playing across his face all night wouldn’t seem to go away. “Feeling better?”

You didn’t feel better. Although you felt cleaner in the new clothes, there was still a throbbing in your head that wasn’t going away and the overhead lights made your eyes water. But the way that Katsuki looked at you like he was expecting you to say yes just drew you in.

He could tell that the way you nodded a yes in response to his question was a lie, and his face fell before pushing a hand up to your forehead, checking your temperature. “Have you taken anything today?”

You had to think back to earlier that day when you brought the bottle of cold medicine up to your lips, not even reading the recommended dose before downing what you could and leaving your home. “Yeah, um, I took some medicine.”

The grin that had been spread across Katsuki’s face returned. “Well I guess we’ll have to get you some more.”

He grabbed your wrist and led you through the halls and over to the bar. You didn’t pay attention to where you were going. The world seemed to be going too fast for you to keep up. What you were able to notice was that everyone’s eyes were on you as you gently swayed back and forth, trying to settle yourself down. As you were in your own head, you couldn’t start to picture what everyone else saw when they looked at you. You with your raccoon eyes due to streaky makeup that you couldn’t stop rubbing.

“Here.” Katsuki shoved a glass in your face. “Not necessarily traditional medicine but it’ll get the job done.”

You looked up at the whiskey glass in his hand. The ‘medicine’ was a deep brown color which swirled around as he handed it to you. Your fingers brushed against his thick ones as you took the glass. You lifted it up to your nose and took a deep breath in, gagging at the smell. “Um, I don’t think I should.” You had been warned about mixing alcohol with drugs and the dangers that came with it, but no one had ever told you not to mix drinks with cold medicine. Still, that couldn’t be right, right?

“Come on, it’s good for you,” he egged you on. “Besides, it’ll get that nasty taste out of your mouth.”

You had never tried whiskey before. You were used to lighter drinks, something bubbly with a shot of vodka or two in it. But this was almost too much. You lifted the glass up to your lips and tilted it back. Your lips stung as they made contact with the drink, but you didn’t want to seem weak to Katsuki. He’d taken care of you so far and seemed pleasant enough, albeit intimidating.

As you tipped it back further and took more of the drink into your mouth, Katsuki pushed his hand against the bottom of the glass so you couldn’t tear it away, making sure you would drink every last drop. It stung going down and the cubes pressing against your lip were colder than you expected. You gagged as a couple loose tears rolled down your face from the drink’s burning sensation. You bet you looked even more of a mess now.

“Good girl,” Katsuki said with a low demeanor. With his thumb, he wiped away a drop of whiskey that rolled down your chin.

“And this’ll make me feel better?” You didn’t think you were supposed to drink when you were sick, but you were far too tired to even think about what was wrong and what was right. If he said that it’d make you feel better, then that had to be a good thing. You’re sure of it.

“Sure will.” He placed a firm, calloused hand on your head and stroked down your hair. You nuzzled into his warmth.

It was such a nice sensation that it almost made you forget that you were supposed to be working. That there were people waiting on you to bring them their food and fetch their creamer, people who were ready to slap your ass and laugh as soon as you turned away.

“I have a,” you started, not really sure where that sentence was going. “I have to go back to work.”

As you began walking away, Katsuki stopped you, pulling you back over so your face was practically pressed up against his chest. “No you don’t. You’re sick, remember?”

Right, as if you hadn’t forgotten. But he was right. You were sick and your medicine hadn’t kicked in yet. You couldn’t risk spreading your germs and getting anyone else sick.

You watched the dinner guests from afar. You leaned in to hear conversations about hitmen and other rivaling mobs around town. Some were about money laundering and clients that needed to be taken out, whatever that meant.

At one point, someone asked to pull Katsuki aside and talk alone, but instead he just pulled you closer.

“The hell do you want, Yoarashi?”

Yoarashi was a big guy, bigger than Katsuki, but it was clear even to you that he was intimidated by the blonde in front of him.

“You owe me for what I let you borrow last month.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

To you, they sounded like they were underwater and you weren’t sure what they were discussing, but you were curious to learn more.

“Come on, Bakugou. Work with me here.”

“I’m a busy man, Yoarashi. Now get out of my face before I have my men take care of you.”

Something about the raw power and the threatening tone behind Katsuki’s voice made you excited. You wanted to melt into his words, but you weren’t sure why.

“Busy man?” Yoarashi scoffed. “Come on, Bakugou. You’ve barely been seen all night. Where have you been, fucking this little lackey of yours?”

He didn’t mean you, did he? Before you could even comprehend what he just insinuated, Katsuki turned you around and pressed your face up against his chest. You could feel yourself growing even hotter as you were pushed into one of his pectorals. One of his hands cupped the back of your head. Was he protecting you?

“Listen here,” you heard him say. “Don’t contact us ever again unless you want to end up like your first boss did. I can make your life a living hell and I will, got that?”

“Don’t think I don’t have other contacts, all right? You aren’t the only one in this town with resources, Bakugou.”

You felt something jab into the other side of Katsuki’s chest. Did Yoarashi hit him? A few seconds went by before you heard the snapping of fingers and two men came over to drag Yoarashi away.

Katsuki released the hold he had on you, and you watched as the tall man struggled out of his hold. “You aren’t gonna tell anyone what you saw here tonight, right princess?”

You shook your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you felt when you saw that man being dragged away. You were scared, of course; scared for your own life and of the raw power that Katsuki seemed to hold. But on top of fear there was something else. There was a tingle between your thighs that wouldn’t seem to go away, and there was also a sense of excitement. Out of all the people here, this man was paying attention to you. You were far from Mafia material, but he clearly saw something in you and you wanted more of his gaze lingering on you.

Your mind felt hazy with Katsuki and you wanted even more. You didn’t know what to do when you felt him smooth his hand down your back. You didn’t know what to do when his usual smirk turned into something much more dangerous. And you didn’t know what to do when he leaned over and pressed his lips against your own.

His lips felt heavenly as they explored you. They were soft and welcoming despite his cold and dangerous exterior. His tongue probed its way into your mouth. He tasted like whiskey and something else which you assumed was just him. He bit your lip and it felt like he smiled when you let out a moan.

When he released, you felt as if the whole world was spinning with Katsuki. You wobbled around a bit and he chuckled. You tried asking if you could sit down, but the words refused to come out. The last thing you remember is seeing the world go black, the sound of the clients’ dinner fading out of earshot, and two strong arms carrying you away from reality.

You were in pain by the time you woke up. Your body, especially your head, ached tremendously and you wished the sun would stop shining so bright through your window. But wait, the window in your bedroom at your apartment faced another building. The sun never shined too bright in the morning when you were at home.

Slowly, you peaked your head out from under the covers and looked around. You weren’t in your bedroom, but you were in a bedroom. The bed you had been asleep in was enormous, but aside from that there was not much else furniture in the room or even any pictures to signify who the room could belong to.

It wasn’t until you sat up that you realized just how exposed you were under the covers. You couldn’t find your clothing anywhere. What were you even wearing last night? Where were you last night?

You remembered being sick and being called into work by Kirishima. You were stressed. You were nauseous. There was a beautiful woman who asked for someone in particular but you were too sick to remember what their name was, right?

And then you raced to the bathroom and met--

A groan from beside you shook you out of your thoughts, and as soon as you saw the person lying in bed next to you, all of your memories came flooding back.

“Morning, baby girl,” Katsuki said.

You didn’t know what to say. Your mouth hung open and you felt lightheaded.

Katsuki was shirtless under the covers and you were too scared to ask if he had anything on covering his lower half. “You put on quite the show last night.”

Last night. Where you met him. What did you do last night? “I...” You didn’t know what to say, and that made Katsuki let out a booming laugh.

“Come on, you remember at least a little of it don’t you?”

You shook your head. Then you shook your head again. You couldn’t stop shaking your head.

Katsuki put a hand on your shoulder and you stopped. He had a shit eating grin spread across his face that you wanted to both punch and kiss at the same time. “First throwing up at my party and then getting blackout drunk in front of all my guests.”

“What?” You could barely remember anything. What did he mean ‘his party’? The clients’ dinner was run by…

Your eyes widened as you realized just who you had found yourself naked in bed with. Who had found you puking on the bathroom floor. Who that stunningly gorgeous woman was asking for earlier.

You clamped a hand over your mouth and Katsuki let out another chuckle. “You really were the life of the party.” He grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to his side of the bed, and you let him. He dragged his hand up and down your exposed body and roughly cupped your sex. “I had a blast toying around with you last night, but now I want you to be able to remember what it feels like when I bury my cock inside of you, sweetheart.”

You hated the way he was grabbing you and the way he forced your legs to open up for him, but what you hated more than any of that was the way his words made your inner thighs ache and how they instinctively parted just for him.

You turned away as he leaned down to smother your chest with rough kisses, and as you looked over to your left hand, you couldn’t help but notice a diamond ring that wasn’t there the night before.

[simpforboys]

party

she/her pronouns

summary: vinnie’s birthday party (IDK LOL)

warnings: fluff n language

the part where vinnie goes on the dj booth is loosely inspired by another fic that i cannot remember the author of. if anything looks familiar, please dm me so i can properly credit them!

“you look so good, my love,” vinnie grinned, hugging his girlfriend from behind.

“i'm wearing the most basic shit, i'm sure some girls are gonna show up tonight looking like greek goddesses to get your attention,” y/n joked. her and vinnie had been dating for a couple months now, and although everyone kinda suspected they were together, they never confirmed it.

she was wearing blue ripped mom jeans and a cropped black corset with her dr martens.

“they'll try, but you're the only one who i'll be focused on,” he told her, kissing her neck. y/n grinned.

“happy early birthday, baby.”

“thank you.”

crowds kept piling in as the party started. y/n was talking to nai about wanting to go get their nails done together, complimenting each other on their outfits.

vinnie was talking to saul, cory, damen, and jett. they were all goofing around and drinking beers.

“how long have you two been together?” nai asked.

“i think.. 6ish months now,” y/n told her.

“why, was i staring?” she felt her face get warm.

“a little bit, yeah,” nai laughed.

“do you guys wanna confirm anything soon?” nai asked.

“i don't know. i'm scared about what his fans will do.. you know some of them can be bat-shit crazy,” y/n joked.

nai nodded. “oh shit- look.”

nai pointed over to a girl in a very tight red dress. she was blonde and absolutely gorgeous, trying to get vinnie to dance with her.

he looked very uncomfortable and was looking around. “i'll be right back,” y/n told nai.

y/n moved to the side of vinnie, wrapping her arm around his hips. vinnie visibly relaxed, all his drunk buddies going “ooh.”

“who are you?” y/n asked, feeling vinnie placing his arm around her shoulders.

the girl rolled her eyes and walked away.

“i'm surprised she can fucking breathe in that dress,” vinnie said.

“i need a shot,” y/n turned around to see jett already poured some.

“i figured.” the brunette shrugged.

y/n grinned, clinking their glasses together.

-

later on, while y/n was in the bathroom, everyone decided it was time for cake.

wandering around, her posture perked up when she heard a loud microphone go off. turns out, tipsy vinnie and a dj booth don't mix well.

“uhhhhh, does anyone know where my girl is? y/n- we're all in the main room.”

y/n walked over, seeing the large crowd staring at her. y/n felt her face grow hot as vinnie grabbed her waist, pulling him close to her.

if they didn't confirm anything before, their relationship is definitely confirmed now as vinnie pecked her cheek.

kouvr brought the cake out as the lights dimmed. “happy birthday to you..” everyone sang.

y/n felt her boyfriend hug her tighter as his eyes lit up at the cake. a big picture of his rx7 was plastered on it, y/n standing next to it in a bikini.

“when did you take that?” vinnie asked in her ear.

y/n laughed. “don't worry about it.”

“happy birthday, dear vinnie.. happy birthday to you,” everyone finished singing.

y/n noticed the mischievous look in kouvr's eyes. “kouvr-“ y/n started, but screamed slightly when the cake was launched at the couple.

everyone was cheering and laughing. cake covered both their faces and clothes, some in their hair.

vinnie had a goofy grin on his face as he grabbed y/n's neck, bringing her face close to his. sharing a cake-filled kiss, loud whistles and more cheers were heard.

“ love you, baby,” vinnie told her.

“love you more, v,” y/n smiled, kissing him again. no doubt this would be plastered all over social media in an hour.

[flowerwrites06]

break my mind’s eye I — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal. 

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle) 

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Special 

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings: drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution 

Authors Note: finally i was able to conclude that bmme can be reposted!! please welcome back this precious gem of mine 

The first time she saw was before one of her fashion shows. Small event compared to the likes of Gucci or Louis Vuitton but for her the biggest night of her life was about to happen. Unfortunately minutes before the show started, Belle got a call from her uncle to pick Taehyung up from their place and his tone sounded utterly bleak.

Walking away from a highly angered manager she rushed off to pick him up only to find him sitting outside on the porch in the cold wind, laughing a little to himself before swearing at no one. It was the first day Belle found out the things he had been taking.

Weed, ecstasy…she even found a small bag of cocaine hidden in his hoodie after getting him cleaned up.

“Where the hell did you get money for cocaine?” Belle tried to search his expression but Taehyung was too busy stumbling as he finally fell onto her bed.

“I know a guy. I promised to pay him back soon.” Taehyung mumbled turning to rest on his back, his limbs refused to stay still to a point where Belle started to get annoyed.

“Tae, how much do you owe this guy?” She asked, heart thumping a little knowing cocaine especially was not inexpensive and that mixed with other drugs…

His body being ruined was one heart-wrenching thing but she dreaded the amount of money this all cost.

Her brother stayed silent closing his eyes to let out a few breaths which caused her blood to boil even more.

Belle understood why Taehyung turned to something so putrid to relieve him of their recent troubles. There was a moment in time where she even thought to do so, maybe to ease some of the pain of they both went through. But it was getting out of hand.

-

The next morning Belle fixed him up a proper breakfast to distract him from taking another dose of the things he bought. Or was loaned anyway since he didn’t have a job or savings to pay for any of the products she found.

Taehyung didn’t even come to the table.

Instead as she walked towards the bedroom, she found him shirtless snorting something up his nose as he quickly threw his head back. Just hearing his sigh of relief made Belles’ stomach churn to near sickness.

Fuming, Belle grabbed whatever pieces of his stash she could find on the table and threw it in the bin pushing it away when he tried to savor anything that could be fished out. She saw his eyes widen so much that it almost seemed his eyeballs were going to fall on his hand.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Taehyung yelled, voice growly while his nose still had remnants of white powder dripping and his eyes bloodshot more than ever. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get shit like that?!”

“I don’t care, you’re done with this!” Belle stood her ground but kept her voice calm, her own glossy eyes fixated on his.

“You don’t fucking get it!” Taehyung winced, face contorting it looked like he was about to cry. “I need it, okay? And I got that shit from a guy that works in the Jeon Cartel!” He gestured over to the entrance of the apartment. “I can’t ask for anymore, I haven’t paid for anything.” He yanked at his hair whining under his breath like a spoiled child not getting the toy he wanted.

Belle shook her head slightly, tears forming at the brim of her eyes. “Tae…” Her voice grew shakier now. “How much do you owe them?” Her bottom lip quivered watching his chest rise and fall heavily.

He stayed silent averting his gaze.

“Taehyung.” Her tone quickly turned firm though her heart pounded painfully. “How much do you owe them?” Belle truly hated acting like the oldest between the two.

Taehyung used to take care of her every single day almost more than her own parents since they mostly focused on their oldest son because he had ‘a lot more potential’. Her stomach ached looking at all the potential slowly going down the drain right in front of her eyes.

“A few hundred…six…maybe seven…” Taehyung muttered trying not to look directly at her when he spoke. He probably knew exactly the kind of shock gripped her face and he was damn right.

Belles’ entire body turned cold, her fingers almost wanting to fish out the substances herself just knowing how much money it cost to get it. But she curled them up into fists wanting to look strong. “I don’t…know how it feels…I do know it hurts and I know why you’re doing this but…I can’t lose you too.” She whispered, vision getting blurry as a lump grew in her throat. “You’re my big brother, you’ve always looked after me.”

Taehyung bit down his bottom lip lowering his head in slight shame.

“Please let me look after you.” She pleaded in a whisper trying to search his expression, to see any sense of softness or thought.

Her brother sobbed a little, running his shaky fingers through his matted hair before nodding but still trying not to meet her gaze. “Okay.”

Belle let out a trembling sigh of relief, a tear escaping slowly down her cheek when she finally relaxed. “I have savings you can use to pay for the drugs you asked for.” She stated in a gentle tone this time as Taehyung stared at her, shaking his head.

“That’s your boutique money, you can’t—”

“Yes I can.” She forced a smile across her face to reassure him. “My boutique can wait. I want you to get better.”

Taehyung gulped down carefully padding over his sister before leaning his head on her shoulder at an attempt of a lazy hug. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered against the fabric of her sweater, a light whimper under his breath. “Thank you.”

The chill that spread through her body now warmed up as she wrapped her arms around her brother, feeling like the younger sister if only for a second. “Who do we have to pay?” Belle asked sniffling a little.

“My debts’ too high…” Taehyungs’ grip tightened around the girl. “…the guy who gave me the drugs tells me I need to go straight to the boss for questioning if I come back again.”

Oh god, Taehyung…what did you get yourself into?

-

Much to Taehyungs’ discontent, Belle insisted on coming with him with the envelope of the payment in her hand. She figured cash would be more believable instead of bank transferring especially since there was so much money piled up for just debt. Her older brother looked at her a little surprised at how well she knew how to maneuver these things. “Being in the fashion industry doesn’t just mean I draw and sew clothes, you know.” She replied simply as she drove the both of them to the address Taehyungs’ guy told him to go.

During the trip she wanted to mention how sneaky it was to just give them the address and not come along. But then again…this wasn’t exactly an ethical business to begin with.

Of course it wasn’t difficult in the slightest to find the Jeon household considering it was on the outskirts of the city. A large sandstone colored mansion with vines growing off of the sides and golden detail on the windows and pillars. They drove in front of the closed entrance where Taehyung told them his name and that he was being expected which thankfully caused the large gate to slide open with a painful screech sound.

Heart pounded so hard it could have ripped out of her ribcages, the hair on the back of her neck stood up and her palms a little sweaty. The guards lined up in front of the door with their suits and shades making her homemade white floral dress look like peasants work. Even from here she could recognize that those uniforms were not made from some random ordinary designer. Even though the design itself was quite ordinary.

Taehyung walked out of the car first before Belle followed suit.

As soon as she walked out, one of the guards held his hand out.

“Ma’am, the boss requests that you give away your car in the duration of the meeting.” He spoke in a robotic tone.

Belle wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her directly since the shades were so dark but she gave him her car keys anyway. The feeling of emptiness eerily seeping through her already nerve-wracked body. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how Taehyung must be feeling around all of this.

They were led into the mansion by three guards. The entrance was really just a big hall that stretched across the whole expanse of the building. When they passed a large open archway then Belle could see the furnished details; a few couches circled around in the middle of the large space with the fireplace behind the sitting, a bar on the far right with some maids tending to the dust while there were stairs on the left leading to the upper level.

Why would they want meet them personally for a few hundred dollars? It looked like a small loss looking at the quality of this whole building down to the outfits their guards were wearing.

Maybe it was more greed than the amount of the money.

“Please be seated. Master Jeon will speak to you shortly.” The same guard declared before moving back to his post and standing there like a statue.

Taehyung and Belle sat at the couch that faced the fireplace. Thankfully the maids were kind enough to turn it on since she hadn’t realized how cool it was going to be in the house. They offered them tea which they both turned down. An empty stomach meant less likely for her to throw up from the anxiousness. Taehyung, on the other hand, lost interest for food altogether barely eating anything but crumbs.

She noticed the hollowness of his cheeks and the darkness under his eyes. How long had it been since she saw a smile stretching across his lips? Taehyung used to be filled with light and passion beyond anything Belle had ever seen. He was the reason she pushed herself to pursue her own dreams despite the side-eyes from their parents. He defended her passion. He protected from unfair treatment always giving her shine he thought she deserved.

Now Belle had to repay the favor. She needed to encourage her brother to restart his path back to one that made him happy instead of one that slowly destroyed him to the core.

Footsteps brought her back out from her thoughts, eyes trailing over to the stairs. A tall built figure dressed in an all-white suit with a button-up shirt to match, loosely done up so his gold necklace could glimmer in the light. Belle noticed the gold cufflinks shimmering from his wrists. Hair styled somewhat neatly with a side part and strands hovering his eye when he moved, lips a rosy hue and his face looked for younger than she expected.

When people said ‘drug lord’ she imagined a stumpy old creep with similar attire except traditionally unkempt with facial hair and untrimmed chest hair that hung over their shirts.

Despite his pleasant appearance, Belle was not going to be blinded to the fact that this man thrived off of her brothers’ suffering.

The man finally met her gaze after only glancing a little at Taehyung before sitting down on the couch in front of them. Legs spread apart ever so slightly, he leaned back with one of his arms extended out. “Mr. Kim.” He spoke in a soft tone, eyes going back to her older brother now. “Do you recognize who I am?” He searched his expression.

Taehyung kept his head lowered but nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Who am I?” He pressed on like a father calmly scolding his child.

“M-Master Jeon Jungkook…” He muttered helplessly almost glancing up to meet his gaze but quickly looking down once again.

“So you do know…” Jungkook nodded, pressing his lips together. “Here I was thinking you consider me a joke. Taking bags and bags of my products while assuming I won’t try to track you down. Is that you what you thought of me?” His tone grew firmer.

Unlike Taehyung, Belle kept her head up, maintaining her gaze on the stranger. It seemed like Jungkook had a good eye for noticing when he flickered over to look at her instead.

“No, sir.” Taehyung shook his head frantically. “I-I just n-needed to get my money together.” He explained in a shaky voice not noticing that his precious ‘sir’ was staring at Belle a lot longer than she was comfortable.

Maybe he was waiting for her to duck her head down like her older brother.

The urge to do so was stronger than ever but Belle persisted. Until Jungkook glanced over at Taehyung again.

Her brothers’ fingers trembled violently at this point. Belle itched to comfort him somehow but she wanted him to try and face on his own to some extent. Coming here and sitting next to him was already being far too lenient but she couldn’t let him do this completely alone. Not when the healing process was so fresh and people like Jungkook would do anything to make sure he stayed addicted.

“Where’s the money?” Jungkook gestured towards him.

Belle took a small breath, placing the envelope on her lap onto the glass coffee table. “One of your men said he owed seven hundred.” She spoke up now trying to keep her voice as steady as possible even though her heart was beating out of control. “The envelope has eight just in case he wasn’t accurate.” A chilly feeling brushed over her body when her savings just sat there on the coffee table. Nothing but petty money for Jungkook but to her, it was the only way she could afford the vacant building in the city for her boutique.

“And you are?”

“His sister.” She muttered, glancing over at Taehyung who let out a deep sigh.

Jungkook stared down at the thick envelope for a few minutes with a raised brow. “Jongho…” He curled his fingers in towards a guard who quickly rushed over to stand beside him. “Please escort Mr. Kim to the second living room for a moment. I’d like to have a word with Ms…”

“Belle.”

“Belle…” The corner of his lip curled up before he gestured again towards the man called Jongho and he immediately led Taehyung away from them.

Belles’ heart raced seeing his helpless face looking back at her not sure if he was trying to apologize or if he was terrified of why they were being separated. “Why’re you taking him away?” She asked, being as polite as possible but her tightening fists told a different story.

“I’m not going to hurt him.” Jungkook murmured. He leaned in to rest his elbows on his knees, eyes searching her expression closely. “I thought it’d be better if I had a private conversation with a more steady minded person rather than your brother.” He nodded behind her.

Her brows furrowed glancing down at the closed envelope before staring up at him. “We got you the money, why do we need to have a conversation?” Belle’s voice was low just enough for only Jungkook to hear and no one else. Not that she could raise her voice even if she tried from how closed up her throat was.

“Because I’m honorable to an extent but I also hate people taking advantage of my kindness.” Jungkook shrugged lightly. “Your brother had been freely given all the products he consumed and he waited three months to give me my payment.” He let his sentence linger in the air to add more effect. “Three months of losing product and receiving no profit in return is not a risk I like making, Belle. Nor do I want to make it again.”

“So…what’re you saying?” Belle thought of the worst possible scenarios. Would they take Taehyung away and punish him? Or kill him? Was he being punished right now and Jungkook was just lying to prevent a scene? She watched his soft eyes trail up and down her form trying to be subtle but Belle caught it immediately feeling the urge to hide away into the couch.

“I’m saying the deal’s changed.” Jungkook declared in the most casual way like you would cancel a simple outing to the mall. “Look I can get money anytime I want to…you know that, don’t you?” He tilted his head a little searching her features. “I asked for this personal meeting on the basis of principle. Taehyung and many people like him need to understand that we stand by codes just as much as anyone. I’m not a money pig that just drools and accepts cash when it’s given to me.” He raised a brow.

Belle winced lightly, shaking her head. “Then why are we here? What do you want?”

Jungkook did nothing for a minute and gave her a soft smile. “Something he can take a little more seriously than cash…well—someone.”

Blood drained from her body from her aching head to her toes. Belle pierced into his smug gaze hoping…praying that he didn’t meant what she thought. The last thing she ever looked to be afraid of but now became the ultimate bane of her visit.

A visit thought to be quick and sweet with cash exchanged. How could she be surprised? These people wanted so much but still asked for more. What more could she expect from the man that took just to have the power to take some more? “Taehyung’s a good man.” She whispered. “He won’t do this again.”

“That’s what a lot of people tell me for years about their relatives or friends, Belle.” Jungkook murmured under his breath keeping the conversation to themselves despite the maids and guards standing around. “My grandfather heard it…my father heard it…every single time those people come back begging for more and then we get blamed for the dead bodies.” He sighed in slight defeat but she didn’t buy it in the slightest.

There was nothing noble about this request. If he were any other man gaining the audacity to say something like this, he would expect a hard punch on his nose. Except now it wasn’t just her own safety in question. Nor was Jungkook any ordinary man who could be taken by police or a punch looking at his build. “What am I supposed to do?” Belle murmured, heat flushing in her body making her more exasperated than grateful at the running fireplace.

Once again, a smile stretched across Jungkooks’ rosy lips. If it were taken out of context you’d think he was some sweet boy admiring something. But the reality was far from that lie. “You’re not going to be my prisoner, if that’s what you’re asking.” He smiled a little wider, eyes glimmering. “I’m not that evil.”

Debatable.

“You’re a lot more intelligent than you let on.”

“You just met me.”

“But I meet a lot of people…a little too many. So I tend to rely on first impressions and hope I’m right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“And if you’re wrong?”

He chuckled under his breath gesturing over to his guards. “They’re not there for decoration…and I don’t always negotiate like this. I’m just having a good day.” She saw his expression grow dark but the smile still remained making him look utterly sinister.

Visions of Taehyung tied to a chair, sobbing flashed across her mind making her mentally slap herself back to reality. She couldn’t look weak in front of him of all people. That’s what he wanted…for people to cower in front of him as he spewed his threats around to get everything he asked for. But denying him completely and storming out wouldn’t exactly be the smartest decision either considering she didn’t actually know where her brother was. The mansion was still mystery to her and Jungkook could easily hurt any of them as he so subtly stated with that stupid, fucking smile.

“So…what do you say, Belle? Do we have an accord?”

-

Taehyung was led back into the main living room, slightly yanking off of Jongho’ grasp and giving him a glare when he walked away. He looked over at Belle, her back facing him standing in front of Jungkook. “Belle?”

Belle looked over her shoulder and gave him a smile as she walked closer. She let out a sigh of relief seeing no sign of injury on the older male.

“Did he do something to you?” After the longest time, Taehyung sounded like an older brother again looking after Belle whenever she looked the slightest bit distressed. “What did he say?” He whispered.

She stayed silent, gaze lowered to look at his T-shirt before flickering up to force a smile at him. “It’s going to be okay.” Belle murmured. “He even offered to pay for your rehabilitation and get you back on your feet.”

Brows furrowed now gaining the urge to glance over at Jungkook but he couldn’t seem to stop searching his sisters’ expression. “Why would he want to pay for—”

“I told him to.” Belle gulped, smile fading away into a small frown.

“Belle, we can’t pay him back for all of that.” Taehyung held onto her bare arms feeling the cold skin underneath his.

She nodded. “Yes we can. He’s only asking for one thing.”

“…What?” He whispered.

Belle bit down her bottom lip, chin quivering a little before she smiled again even though her eyes grew glossy. “He wants me.”

Taehyungs’ heart plummeted making his whole body feel heavy. “No…” He shook his head, grip tightening around her arms as if she was going to disappear if he let go. “He can’t do that.”

“I agreed.”

“Belle!” It was more a loud whisper than anything but it managed to turn a few heads. “He’s going t—”

“I know what he’s going to do.” Belle rubbed his chest soothingly. “But this is the only way I can help you.”

“You have the money, why won’t he take it?” He gestured towards the envelope on the coffee table which now looked long forgotten.

Belle lowered her gaze. “Because he thinks you’ll just do it all again. He doesn’t trust you.”

“And you trust him?” Taehyung retorted causing heat to bubble up inside Belle.

“I trust you to do your part in this promise.” She tightened her jaw, wincing as the lump in her throat grew painful. “Unless you have a better idea to escape a pissed off drug lord then you will do this.” Tears flooded at her eyes threatening to escape but her gaze persisted on him. “Please promise me you’ll try to get better from now on.” Her lips quivered. “I didn’t know how else to help you. But now you need to help me. You need to heal and get back on your feet.”

Taehyung brushed against his fingers through the hair rested on her shoulder. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Belle shook her head as an attempt to reassure him but he didn’t look at all convinced. “I’ll be fine.” She smiled faintly, a few tears escaping down her cheeks which he wiped off gently.

“I’m so sorry…” He whimpered, fingers curling around her hair. “This is all my fault, I should’ve just come here on my own.”

“He would’ve killed you.”

“But you’d be happy.”

Belle chuckled sadly. “You really think I’d be happy if I lost you?”

“But you wouldn’t be here.” Taehyung side glanced over at the guards who looked completely unfazed by the whole ordeal while Jungkook had his back turned to them, gazing out into the garden outside.

“Everything’s going to be fine.” Belle wasn’t sure if that was directed at her brother or herself. Was this meant to be her big fork in the road? The path she was supposed to determine her whole life. Maybe her parents were right. Maybe she was amount to only one thing… but she’d be caught dead before she cowered begging before people like Jungkook. If he wanted her then he could have her. But he’d be an idiot to think she wasn’t going to use that to her own advantage one day. “We’re allowed to see each other so you’re not losing me, okay? I’ll be there whenever you need me.”

Taehyung sighed in frustration averting his gaze, boring holes in the back of Jungkooks’ head with his glare. “I want to kill him.”

“Then we’ll never get out of here.” Belle replied simply.

Finally Taehyung succumbed to his sisters’ wishes, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead before letting go, physically deflating as he was led out of the mansion by one of the guards.

One of them, same Jongho walked over to her. “I’ll drive him back safely, Ms. Kim.” He gave her a reassuring smile before following Taehyung out of the mansion.

The double doors closed blocking out whatever light that came from it leaving her empty.

“Taehyung will call you when he gets home. So you know he’s safe.” Jungkook spoke up now in a gentle tone but Belle kept her back to him. “And your personal belongings will be moved here in a few days.”

She licked her lips before lowering her gaze, letting a few silent sobs before wiping the tears away. “Where can I freshen up?” Belle looked down at her fingers seeing the light mascara smudges, trying to wipe at the corners of his eyes to wipe any traces away.

Jungkook seemed like he gestured towards one of the maids because a kind looking woman padded over and touched her on the shoulder.

Her grey hair wrapped up in a bun and the smile lines around her face showed when she gave her a sweet grin, making her look like the only person that seemed somewhat trustworthy in this building. “Let’s go upstairs, dear.” She held onto her arms and led her towards the stairs. “I’ll get some new clothes sent up as well.”

Belle didn’t glance at Jungkook but she could feel his gaze on her when she was led up the stairs to the now shared master bedroom.

-

Similar to what a hotel suite would look like, the master bedroom adorned a modern design with an opaque black curtains drawn to keep the room cool and ambient with the warm lights. A king-sized bed with classic white sheets with some gold detail matching the aesthetic of the whole mansion itself. There was a marble partition that had a small gap on the bottom with a modern looking fireplace on to keep the room warm, situated on the immediate left when they walked in.

On the other side of the partition was a desk with a closed laptop and some files. Another open archway on the right that led to a walk-in-wardrobe with lit up shelves that accentuated all the different shoes and shirts.

Upon walking through the archway into the wardrobe, on the right, there was the private bathroom just as big as every other small area in the monster of a bedroom.

Belle was led into the bathroom by the kind maid where she saw a shower that could have been the size of her laundry room, a sink just in front of it with a bathtub on the far end. The white bathtub contrasted against the grey marble floor with a large window that showed a forest-like view.

“It’s an illusion.” The maid explained as if to reassure her that her baths were not going to be displayed out into the world. “The Master asked for a glass case that held shrubs but the foggy forest is an intricate painting by one of the familys’ personal artists. He likes the feeling of being disconnected from the modern world when he’s relaxing.”

Normally the design would impress her greatly. The idea of having the illusion of a calm forest without the hassle of actually moving to one was genius and the greyish light gave the bathroom a relaxing morning feel. Right now however it made her feel more trapped than ever. Even the view outside was just an illusion in her new cage. Nothing felt solid and real at this point like Belle was a ghost floating around in a dream that never seemed to end.

“Your towels are over on the stand there, dear. I’ll have robes and a change of clothes brought to you outside soon.” The maid smiled patting her lightly on her arm. “Don’t fret too much, darling. I don’t think the master has any intention of hurting you.”

“It’s not him hurting me that’s making me nervous.” Belle smiled sadly, grateful that the woman even cared to reassure her somehow.

“Ah…” The maid smiled and nodded knowingly. “I’ll get you some of my special tea…it calmed me down on my wedding night.”

Belle’s heart sank seeing the woman smile at her a little sadly too. “Is the secret ingredient whiskey?” She tried to lighten the mood which successfully made the woman chuckle. Somehow seeing the way the woman helped her in her own way reminded her of why she was in this glass case in the first place. She remembered Taehyung smiling again, throwing away all the things that tarnished all the peace in his heart and being free. She needed to be strong.

“Not really but…I’ll see what I can do.” She whispered the last bit with a cheeky smile before turning on her heel to leave Belle in a few moments of solitary freedom at the very least.

-

It may have been dark by now.

At least when Belle peeked the slightest outside the curtained window, the sun had been dipping into the hills to give the sky a pinkish hue. Her heart pounded at the lack of notifications from her brother. Her body felt fresher now that she had a comfortable long white nightie with a thin robe to keep her arms somewhat cozy. But skin still heated up significantly with her anxiety.

Then minutes passed before her phone buzzed and her heart released a thousand sighs of relief seeing Taehyung’s name.

“Belle?”

“Yes it’s me.” Belle whispered with a biggest grin on her face from the sheer relief. “You went home okay? They didn’t hurt you?”

“No, no they were just… fine.” Confusion trailed in Taehyung’s voice. “That guy has way too much fucking power, they just dropped me off and left saying they’ll come back to drop me off at the rehab center. Normally his men tried to rough me up whenever they saw me.”

“That’s because they knew you’re the guy that doesn’t pay.” Belle cringed mentally hearing herself defend their actions but…she was a little too good at considering perspectives, she guessed.

“I guess…also I’m the one who’s supposed to be asking you if you’re okay.” Taehyung corrected but Belle let his words linger in the air for a moment.

Sitting in the luxury bedroom wearing a clearly quality robe with people working at her beck and call, in a first glance people would call her lucky. Digging deeper into the surface and seeing that Belle was manipulated into being in his position then people would call Jungkook a monster.

Was it only one of them? Was it both? Was it neither? Was this just a game that Belle had no choice but to play for a time until her brother got better? How far did Jungkook even think this through? Why was he so interested in manipulating Taehyung the most? Did he do this to every sister, brother or parent that came around? Did they even come this far?

“Belle, you still there?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay. I’m just sitting.” She quickly explained.

The thoughts crowded in her head making it ache but thankfully the maid—her name she found out was Nana—gave her a piping hot cup of tea apparently laced with some herbs that helped calm anxiety and nerves. It was an ancient herb given to young girls so they could go through their wedding night without having an anxiety attack or breaking down. Blowing away some of the steam, Belle took a few sips ignoring the bitter taste on her tongue.

“I don’t know what he wants yet but I think I have an idea.” Belle spoke solemnly.

“You really don’t have to do this, Belle.” Taehyung whispered desperately.

“We don’t have any other choice.”

“You could just come back home and I’ll just handle it.”

“You had three months to handle it.” Her voice grew firm quicker than she even expected but she kept her head cool. Silence ran on the other end of the line making Belle sigh to calm herself down. “We just need to keep our heads. We’ll be fine.” She didn’t mean to make her tone sound so dreary but this wasn’t exactly the cheeriest of moments in her life. Her fingers absentmindedly played with the fabric of her soft nightie trying to empty her mind for a little while. “I need to go, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay…Belle…”

“Yeah?”

“…I love you. Be safe.”

The lump in her throat grew again suffocating her when she forcefully swallowed it down. “I love you too.” Belle whispered before hanging up. Taking longer sips from her tea now, it took a few seconds for her feel her limbs loosen like ice melting near a fireplace. Her body cooled down from her heated anxiety to a comfortable warmth she could melt into without the worries of the troubles around her.

For a moment, she could close her eyes and relish in the new found relief wanting to silently thank Nana for providing her this cup of momentary tranquility.

The door opened with the familiar white-suited man walking in giving her a glance as he shrugged his blazer off. “Nana got you some clothes…good.” Jungkook muttered, walking into the walk-in wardrobe and placing his blazer back before taking off his cufflinks when he walked back in the bedroom. “Is it comfortable?”

“Yes.” Belle replied, brushing her palms across the smooth sleeves of the robe. She never worked with satin a lot but whenever she felt it under her skin it gave her the tingle of pure luxury. “I just spoke to Taehyung…he came home safe.”

“I told you he would.” Jungkook murmured, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his shoulder before placing into a hamper for the maids to take care of.

Belle noticed the stencil like silhouette of a phoenix etched into the right side of his chest as he walked over to his side of the bed. “You kept to your word. Thank you.” Not that you deserve it but…common courtesy.

She caught a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips while he unbuckled his belt and threw it on the floor.

“Do I sense a little bitterness, Ms. Kim?” Jungkook mused.

“Why? You don’t like a little bitter taste on your tongue?” Snakes must get used to it by now, she thought.

“I know you’re not a fan of me.” He stated the fucking obvious. “But you could say no anytime. I’ll just deal with your brother without bothering you again.”

Belle tightened her jaw, gripping onto the fabric of her nightie averting her gaze forcing a long silence to plunge into the room.

Jungkook finally sighed. “I didn’t mean that.” He muttered but Belle was mostly trying to focus back on the relaxation the tea gave her again. “Our accord is as solid any other contract so I’m not allowed to touch your brother…while you’re still with me anyway.”

“Is this how you get all your girls?”

He chuckled walking over and standing in front of Belle, forcing her to look up at him. “Would you be pleased if I said no?” Jungkook placed an index finger under her chin while his thumb hovered for a moment over her lips.

“Only if it’s the truth.” Belle replied simply, her knees melting into the surface of the bed.

Jungkook smirked moving his hands into her hair. “I don’t invite just anyone in my bed, no. But you’re not just anyone.”

“Why do you think that?” She asked as he slowly leaned in closer, fingers sliding down the crook of her neck letting the sleeves of her robe and nightie slip down with a mere touch.

“Because you were the only one brave enough to come this far.” He whispered pushing down the other side of her sleeves to leave her shoulders exposed. “Girls love the bad boys but never seem to understand what they’re asking for.” Cold fingers brushed against her collarbones, across her chest up her neck until he finally caressed her bottom lip with his index finger.

They want a fairytale. Beauty and the Beast. But eventually they find out that the Beast was never a prince in the first place. They realize that a mere kiss won’t break the curse.

“You know exactly what you’re asking for… don’t you?” Jungkook asked in a tone of a warm coo.

I’m not asking for this, Belle bit her tongue. But I do know what I’m getting myself into. What you gave me no choice but to get into. She stared at him determined to keep his gaze no matter how much she wanted to close her eyes. He wasn’t going to overpower her, not in that way. I received a beast instead of a prince…but you’re not getting any vulnerable fucking princess either. Keeping her eyes on his, she parted her lips and took his finger into her mouth barely waiting for Jungkook to make any move before she began suckling on it.

“Of course you do.” The mere action was enough of an answer for the male as his smirk grew darker. Jungkook took his finger away pushing down her nightie and robe further down until her breasts were displayed to him.

Belle was grateful for the warmth from the fireplace spreading through the room at his point. But in mere seconds Jungkook used his glistening finger to brush across her nipple causing it to stand erect almost instantly. A light gasp caught in her throat as she pressed her palms on the surface of the bed making her chest push out a little. When she threw her head back a little, he quickly took the opportunity to devour her lips, tongue pushing against her teeth which she kept clamp shut.

Long enough for him to get impatient and bite down her bottom lip a little. Then she allowed him to push through and explore her mouth. Jungkook knelt down but kept their lips locked as he sneaked his hands under her nightie, pushing the soft fabric, nails grazing against her skin causing a tingle down her spine.

Belle lifted a little to let him push the dress further up until he completely pulled both pieces of clothing off over her head. Before she could even comprehend her exposure, he picked her up a little and shifted so she could rest her head on the silk pillows. Her heart raced against her ribcages but she stopped being sure of why at this point, instead she thought about the herbs Nana gave her. Maybe thinking about how it can help would psychologically increase its effects? Stupid but maybe.

When she looked down at the male out of curiosity, she saw him discard his pants and boxers before climbing back onto the bed.

Belle kept her legs closed loosely before he pushed them apart, hands gliding down her inner thighs to her panties. His thumb pressed against the clothing right against her hiding nub making her jerk her hips a little at the suddenly awakened nerves.

He didn’t waste any time to hook the hem of her panties and strip it off her before dipping down in between her legs. His mouth feasted on her clit, tongue licking around her slit before sliding in teasingly slow and moving back to suckling on her bundle of nerves.

Her chest rose and fell as her eyes focused more on the ceiling, biting onto her bottom lip, light whimpers emitting from under her breath.

Jungkook released her clit with a pop sound before settling his hips between her legs. His already hardened shaft teased her slit a little more, wet sounds tickling her ears before she felt him stretch her out.

A moan finally erupted from her throat, clenching around him making him groan.

“It’s okay…” He whispered in her ear when she turned her head to the side. “Does it hurt a lot?”

Belle’s head felt like it was trying to find a straight line in a completely scribbled piece of paper. Her core ached for a moment. She felt Jungkooks’ thumb rub at her clit making her walls relax a little as she focused on the light wash of pleasure rushing across her lower body. Slowly she shook her head moving back to face him again. “No…it’s okay.” She whispered, meeting his gaze when he still wasn’t moving. Leaning up she pressed a shy kiss on his lips.

It took mere seconds before Jungkook began moving in and out of her, still slowly rubbing circles on her erect clit.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, their foreheads pressed against each other as he grinded into her slightly nudging the spot that sent sparks through her body.

His pace quickened, both hands pressed down on the surface of the bed as he thrusted into her in a steady pattern letting the sounds of skin slapping linger in the air.

Belles’ skull felt numb, her mind locked up all her thoughts and allowed her body to succumb to his consistent pounding. Head threw back against the pillow as he chased his own orgasm, her own juices spluttering onto his lower belly. She hummed lightly under her breath which seemed to encourage Jungkook to go faster until the bed started to shift.

Jungkook lowered down a bit more, pressing wet kisses on her neck, trying to muffle his moans against her skin as his thrusts grew sloppy.

Belle felt a gentle wave of pleasure before Jungkook quickly pulled out with his release splattering all over her belly. She let out a small sigh, rubbing circles on her clit again to prolong her small climax before her bundle felt too sensitive to touch making her legs close up again. She watched the other male catch his breath still kneeling in front of her before crashing on the space beside her.

Whatever piece of physical satisfaction swirled around her body melted quickly into her chest clenching painfully. It didn’t take too long for her to notice all too clearly what spilt on her skin but Jungkook had already pulled out a wash cloth and wiped her clean. The traces still burrowed in her mind now.

Jungkook threw the wash cloth away before resting back on the bed again, shutting his eyes for a moment. Both of them catching their breaths and finally dwindling back to their fucked up reality.

“I can’t break this deal.” He murmured looking up at ceiling similar to her. “If I do, I’ll have to kill your brother.”

Belle swallowed the lump in her throat, a small tear spilling from the corner of her eye. “Am I supposed to be your sex toy until you’re done with me?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not allowed to have…sex toys.” Jungkook sighed. “There’s another reason why I changed the deal.”

She finally turned her head to face him, brows furrowing. “What did you not tell me?”

The male took a deep breath before meeting her gaze. “My uncle and aunt have been forcing me to get married to someone of their choice. It’s gotten so pressing to a point where they’ve paid them to seduce me so it doesn’t look arranged.” Jungkook explained, running his fingers through his hair before resting on his head on his arm. “My rejections have stopped working. So I thought I should get a courtship with someone I choose before I’ll have to succumb to my uncle and aunts’ wishes.”

Belle could practically hear her own heart slamming out of her ears, more tears burning in her eyes. “So… you just…saw me and decided that you were going to make me your wife?”

“Did you want me to ask for your parents’ blessing or something?”

She averted her gaze back to the ceiling. “My parents are dead.”

“…I didn’t—”

“Of course you didn’t fucking know, we don’t know each other.” Belle inhaled a shaky breath before closing her eyes to calm herself down.

You are a fucking beast.

“Darling I gave you a chance to turn back.”

“So you wouldn’t hurt my brother.”

“Your brother was already dead if he kept going the way he did.” Jungkook winced a little before sighing in frustration. “I told you I’m not trying to be evil. A lot of people look at me when they want to see power. The world I live in chews up people who are too merciful.”

“My brother is innocent.” Belle sobbed lightly, forcefully biting down her bottom lip.

“He’s vulnerable to what I offer. Did you really think he was going to stop taking drugs just because he paid the money?” Jungkooks’ question lingered in the air for a while. “Correction: just because you paid the money.”

“So you want me to be your wife…” She swallowed thickly. “…or you’ll kill my brother.”

“When you say it that way, I do sound evil.” Jungkook pondered. “But yes. Everything else in the deal still stays the same. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“Except leave you.” Belle corrected.

“Except leave me.” Jungkook confirmed in the most casual fucking tone ever.

Belle did nothing but stay silent and turn to her side, back facing him making the male sigh in slight defeat. She felt his hand on her shoulder squeezing slightly as if it was going to give her any kind of comfort.

“A lot of marriages can be worse than this, you know.” He squeezed it again. “You’re going to have to work with me for this to run a lot smoother, yeah? You did so well today.” Jungkook pressed a gentle kiss on her shoulder. “I promise it won’t feel so bad after a while.”

She knew now. Kissing the beast didn’t break the curse.

It made one.

NEXT CHAPTER >>

[bestiesenpai]

itadori + sukuna, twins + babysitting

This is a mix of headcanons and a fic. Also, I’m going to do this as a ‘reader was their babysitter years ago but now everyone is all grown up and seeing each other again’ type thing. And femme reader!

Sorry if Itadori is a little OOC it just fits the plot, tw: dubconish? Maybe?

Babysitting Yuji and Sukuna was fun and an easy way to make money

They were the twins a few years younger than you across the street, so it was only natural for their parents to enlist your help in watching them

The pay was good, and while dealing with Sukunas practically destructive tendencies drained you at times, it was still fun to hang out with them and grow up together

Yuji was nice and sometimes a bit of a crybaby, whether it be because Sukuna did something or because he just wanted to cry that day

He often told Sukuna off for being bad and messing with you, but a lot of the times Yuji was just trying to save face when he and Sukuna got caught doing something troublesome

Sukuna, we already know is a little devil child and lived to annoy you

Ya know the meme of ‘what do you have? A KNIFE! No!’ that is Sukuna lol he knows he can be good and get your attention that way but where is the fun in that?! Answer there is no fun in that

As they get older and their parents don’t call you around anymore, they do get sad and complain

You’re just older than them that they can’t hang out with you outside of you babysitting them, it’d be weird

So they try to let you go, but you’re always in the back their minds, especially when they see you out with friends or something and they can’t stop looking at you

They’ve always had a crush, always.

And when you go away for college every year, they’re devastated. They come to say goodbye and you ruffle their hair like you used to and promise that you’ll visit them when you come back for break

And let’s be real they mark that shit on their calendar and wait for the day you come back

Sukuna is the one to invite you into the house when you come to visit them on your school break. He can’t keep his eyes off the way you fill out your clothes and the way your ass moves when you walk. You’ve grown up a lot, but so have they.

“Aw, I remember this!” You grin, holding up a picture frame of the three of you together the summer you got braces.

“Yeah.” Sukuna chuckles and closes the door. Yuji is here too, awkwardly sitting on his bed and staring at you with hearts in his eyes. Setting down the frame, you fall back onto the bed Yuji is sitting on. Even as they grow older, they still share a bedroom, and you can see Sukunas messy half of the room.

“(Y/N).” Yuji says softly, grabbing your hand in his. This isn’t uncommon for him, he used to beg you to hold his hand when he was younger. Lacing your fingers together, the smile you send him has him squeezing your hand tightly.

Sukuna had been standing at the door for a while now, fiddling with a stereo trying to pick the right background music. Finally settling on something, you don’t hear the click of the lock on the door and you certainly don’t notice the way the two of them share a look.

“Hey (Y/N).” Sukuna grunts, sitting on your other side.

“Yeah?”

“What’s college like? You’ve been there a couple years, you’re a veteran.” He puts an arm around your shoulder, leaning back and making his chest appear bigger to try and impress you.

“I only just started my third year.” Chuckling, you lean into him a little bit.

“Yeah, but still.”

“It’s way different than high school, that’s for sure. You two will like it when you go.”

“I wish we could go to college at the same time!” Yuji groans, curling himself into your side and pouting. “I want to go to classes with you.”

“Fuck classes, I want to go to parties.” Sukuna cuts in. “College parties must be wild, huh? You can tell us, (Y/N).”

“Some of them are.” Wrapping your arm around Yuji, you adjust to let him cuddle more into your side. Sukuna lets out a loud snort and shakes his head, not believing a word you say.

“C’mon (Y/N), you can be honest. I bet all you do at these parties is drink and fuck.” Neither Sukuna nor Yuji have ever spoken to you like that before. Your relationship was always kept PG-13 at most, a few gross crude jokes about making out and having sex when you were younger, but nothing vulgar.

“Well-” Your face flushes with heat, and Yuji is quick to sit up and look at you with owlish eyes.

“Is that true, (Y/N)? You fuck at these parties?”

“Guys!” Slapping a hand over your now burning face, you don’t miss the way they chuckle. “How is that any of your business?”

“C’mon, we aren’t kids anymore! We can talk about this stuff!” Sukuna scoffs, and the arm around your shoulder shakes you from side to side. “Just tell us, it’s not that big a deal.”

“Yeah, we’re older now.” Sitting up a little straighter, Yuji’s hand that was holding yours let's go and settles on your thigh. Biting your lip, you look between the two identical boys. Their stares are unwavering and nearly enough to make you too embarrassed to speak.

“Yes, I have fucked at these parties-” As soon as the words leave your mouth Sukuna lets out a holler and laughs, jostling you further.

“I knew it!”

“What’s it like, (Y/N)?” Yuji questions, and his hand squeezes your thigh tightly. The two of them have fully encased you, making it impossible to squirm out of their hold or escape their eyes.

“I don’t know if I should tell you.” They aren’t the same young kids you used to babysit. They’re fully grown men now, still growing into themselves but old enough that if you saw them at one of your college parties, you wouldn’t bat an eye.

“Please!” It only takes Yuji a little more pushing to get you to crack.

“It’s not that great a lot of the time, really. The boys at my college aren’t the best lay if you can believe it.” Rolling your eyes at the memory of your most recent escapade, you relax a little bit. “I mean honestly, how is it impossible for them to find the clit when I literally point right at it?”

“What a joke!” Sukuna chuckles, and his arm drops to settle around your waist. His fingers splay across your ribs, cupping just under your breast. “(Y/N) if you were with us we could make you feel ten times better!”

“Yeah, okay.” Laughing lightly at the proclamation, you think nothing of the way Yuji wraps his arms around your hips. He’s got a pout on his lips and his fingers start to dip beneath the waistband of your bottoms.

“We’re serious.” He says, eyes scrunched up a little from how intense he is. “We love you (Y/N), we can make you feel better than anyone else.”

“You love me?” Quirking a brow, you look at both of them. Yuji always said he loved you when he was younger, but Sukuna had always denied it with a fierce blush on his cheeks.

“We do, what about it?” There’s the telltale blush on his cheeks. Sukuna can see your smirk and it pisses him off, so much that he pushes you down to the bed.

Wrestling with Sukuna was a pastime the two of you enjoyed when you were annoying one another. He’d push you, you’d push him, and then the two of you would end up in a mess of limbs on the floor. This time felt no different, and you fought back like you always did. Wriggling away from him and trying to pin him down, you somehow ended up in the middle of the bed with Sukuna sitting on your legs.

“Ha, I win.” He says breathlessly. It wasn’t a fair fight to be honest, he and Yuji had begun working out ever since they hit puberty, so his strength easily outmatched yours. You easily conceded and tried to sit up, but Sukuna didn’t budge.

“Let me up.” You try to yank your legs out from under him but he just pushes more of his weight on you. Yuji is on the bed as well, sitting near your chest and looking at you with that same starry eyed look. He’s not looking at you, he’s looking at the way your shirt clings to your chest, the outline of your bra clear as day for him.

“(Y/N), will you let us show you how good we can make you feel?” He asks, licking his lips nervously. His hand settles on your stomach, palm hot and itching to feel your breast. You don’t answer, and they take that as a green light.

Sukuna is the first to take his shirt off, flexing the muscles he’s worked hard to get. Yuji follows suit, and they take their pants off as well, leaving you the most dressed person in the room. There was an argument brewing in the back of your throat, saying that it was wrong to do this since you’d known them for so long. But now, seeing them as they wanted to be seen, burgeoning men that clearly had a desire to be with you, that argument seemed silly.

“What-” You start, and the word catches in your throat for a moment at what you’re about to say. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh baby.” Sukuna lets out a low groan, an almost sickening grin stretching his cheeks. “We’ve done a lot of research.” His hands are already working your bottoms down your legs, leaving you in your panties.

“(Y/N), lift your arms.” Yuji whispers, tugging your shirt off. They’re both silent when they see your nearly naked body; something they’d fantasized about many times. Leaning down, Yuji kisses you abruptly, and that sets Sukuna off to take your panties off as well. Yuji takes your bra off, placing it with the large pile of clothes on the floor.

Climbing off your legs, Sukuna forces them open, nearly kneeing Yuji in the face when he pushes your legs up.

“Shit. Look at this.” Yanking Yuji by the shoulder, they both settle between your legs and stare directly at your cunt. In that moment, you’re reminded of their inexperience and lack of knowledge, and it’s almost innocent.

Spreading your lower lips with two fingers, Yuji leans forward, puckers his lips, and spits onto your cunt, making it clench around nothing.

Innocence, gone.

“What should we start with first?” Sukuna asks, giving you a once over.

“What do you want to do? I know you always talk about tasting her.” Yuji, always so polite, scoots back and lets his brother take up all the space between your legs.

“Thanks little bro.”

“You’re only older by two minutes.”

“Best two minutes of my life.” Laughing, Sukuna slaps your thighs with both hands and moves to lay on his stomach. “Just relax, (Y/N). We’re going to take good care of you.” Yuji is also laying down with his mouth hovering over one of your nipples.

“Yeah (Y/N).” Yujis breath fans over your nipple, and his eyes are torn between looking at you and looking at your chest. “We love you.”

[itsallyscorner]

Just saw your little mix!reader au (LOVED IT) and I was thinking, what if y/n is kinda like Perrie aka the queen of leaking things and she's dating Tom and everyone makes fun of them bc they are THE couple that keeps spoiling/leaking stuff

Hello lovey!! Thank you for requesting and reading my other work, it’s very much appreciated!🥰 I love this request sm, omg. Happy reading, I hope you like it!💖

💌.

The King and Queen of Leaking

I had WAY too much fun with this request...enjoy!🥰

It had been a regular day in your household. You were in the kitchen starting up on breakfast while Tom was in his makeshift gym doing his morning workout. You were just finishing up on the eggs when your phone pinged. Glancing at your phone you saw that it was a text from Jade.

Jade💜: Babes! Check you email ASAP!!!

The texts in the band’s group chat began to flood in making you curious. Have you all done something to get in trouble with management? Maybe it was an awards nomination? Turning off the stove, you place the last pile of scrambled eggs onto Tom’s plate. After you set the plates on the table, you pull out one of the dining chairs and sit on it, pulling out your phone to see more texts from the girls.

Perrie🦋: Oh.My.God. I CANT BELIEVE IT!!!

Leigh-Anne😻: AHHHHHH THIS IS BIG!!! FIRST NUMBER ONE OF THE YEAR!!!

Jesy💖: I’m so so so SO proud of us!!! And our fans omg, they’re amazing!! I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!

Jesy💖: Where the hell is (y/n)???

Jade💜: Probs busy with Tom👀🍆💦

Perrie🦋: Has she not seen the news yet??

Leigh-Anne😻: Based on her lack of response, I’m guessing she’s busy😉

Jesy💖: (Y/N) I SWEAR HOP OFF TOM’S BLOODY DICK, SWEET MELODY IS NUMBER 1 ON THE CHARTS!!!!!

You gasp once you read Jesy’s last message. Your fingers move rapidly across your screen, exiting the messaging app to open up your email. The anticipation builds up in your body as you refreshed your inbox. Your leg bouncing as the little circle that went around and around popped up on your screen. For the last couple of days and weeks, your fans have been streaming Sweet Melody to top the charts and get it to Number 1. It has only been 10 weeks since “Confetti” has been released and the album has been getting an amazing response. Seeing your fans’ determination to get the song up the charts made your adore them even more and you just wanted to hug and thank every single one of them. You guys had the most amazing fans in the world, though many celebrities claimed that theirs were the best, Mixers were the crème de la crème in your eyes.

Your inbox refreshes and the first email you see is from the Official Charts Company, a company that celebrated singles that reached number one on the charts. You click on the email and carefully skim through the paragraph. When you read that Sweet Melody had officially charted at number one you let out an excited squeal. Tessa, who has been sitting beside your seat, jumped up to her feet the same time you did. Your crouched down as she happily bounced around you.

“Number one Tess! We made it to number one!” You squealed as you gently squished her face. She let out a bark before licking your face.

“Let’s go tell daddy the news, huh? Let’s go!” You couldn’t contain your excitement, the feeling rushing through your veins. You felt like your heart could burst from all the happiness you were currently feeling.

You practically ran to where Tom was, your feet moving as quick as your heartbeat. Tessa’s nails clicked against the wooden floors echoing in the hallway.

Tom, who had just finished his workout, heard the commotion outside. Your excited squeals and the sounds of both your and Tessa’s feet getting closer to him. The stomps came to a halt once you stopped at the doorway of his “gym”. He looks up from his phone and looks at you expectantly. You were beaming, like the sun that brought light into the room. His expression mirrors yours, but his smile was a bit more confused.

“Hi darling, what’s up?” He asks, removing his AirPods and placing them back into their case. You squeal excitedly once again as you run across the room and stand in front of him. Though, it was as if your feet had springs in them because you couldn’t stop jumping. Tom looks at you amused but was still confused.

“(Y/n), what did you do, love?” He asks. Maybe you were up to something?

You stop jumping for a bit and unlock your phone, shoving it into his face. He moves his face back so his eyes can focus but ends up taking the phone from you because you were moving too much. As you dance around the room, Tessa joining in on your little fiesta, Tom reads the email to himself. Once he reads the news his jaw drops looking up at you with wide eyes.

“NUMBER ONE BABY!” You scream before running into his arms. A look of shock is on his face before he screams “YES!” at the top of his lungs. Your legs wrap around his torso as his arms support your back and your bum. He starts shaking his hips and jumping around just like you were as you both celebrated your band’s huge success.

Your cheeks began to hurt from smiling too much, but you just couldn’t keep it off your face. You were too happy to keep a neutral face so you continued to smile. Tom looks up at you with the most proudest expression. He knew how hard you and the girls worked on every song on your albums, so to see that hard work being rewarded made him feel immense amounts of joy for you all.

You began to giggle as you hid your face behind you hands, Tom still carrying you. “I can’t believe this actually happened, oh my god.” Your voice came out muffled but Tom could still understand you. He chuckled while he placed your feet back to the ground. You leaned your head against his chest while his hands rubbed circles onto your back.

“Of course it happened love, you guys deserve it.” He places a kiss on your temple while he swayed you guys back and forth. His cheek resting against you hair as he held you. Your excitement boiling down to disbelief at the news.

He moved his head and gently removed your hands from your face. “Look at me.” Turns out you were silently crying, your tear stained cheeks making his heart drop, but then he noticed they were tears of joy.

You sniffled, smiling when Tom wiped some of your tears away. His hands cupped your cheeks while his eyes gazed at you lovingly, “You have no idea how proud I am of you— and the girls. You guys have worked day and night for this album to exist. I’ve seen you guys write each song and saw how much thought goes into each one, you guys are fucking incredible. Look at how much success it’s getting, you guys did that.”

You laughed as more tears ran down your cheeks. You groaned throwing your head back and wiping them away, “Well, I couldn’t have done it without you. You’ve been so understanding with everything and you managed to be one of my biggest inspirations for writing. Thank you. I love you so much.” You beamed at him before crashing your lips against his soft ones. You felt his lips curve up to a smile as his hands held your face. You suddenly pulled away, Tom chasing your lips, still stuck in your little moment.

“Oh my God! We need to tell the fans! They’ve been streaming for weeks!” You pecked his lips once more before rushing out the room. The excitement entering your body once again. Tom looks down at your phone in his hands smirking. He turned to Tessa, “Give her a few seconds.”

“MY PHONE!” He heard you exclaim in the hallway. Your head popped from behind the entrance. You skipped into the room and took the phone from Tom.

“I love you!” You sang, kissing his lips again, then skipping out to the hallway.

Before you can post anything of the band’s new achievement, you opened the group chat.

(Y/n)🌻: First off, I was far from Tom’s dick, I was actually cooking😌

(Y/n)🌻: Second, I love you all so much!!!!!! I can’t believe we did it, the amount of pride I feel to be part of this band is astronomical right now! Nine years together and we’re still making it, I love you guys!❤️❤️❤️

After you messaged the girls, you opened up Instagram. Meanwhile, Tom had joined you, dressed in new clothes and fresh out the shower. He hummed at the food on the table and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his way of silently thanking you. He sat in the chair beside yours and began to dig into his breakfast.

“Do you mind if I film a video real quick?” You ask him, looking into the camera as you fixed your hair. Tom wipes his mouth and swallows his food.

“Go ahead, tell the world you’re number one.” He teased you. You rolled your eyes though your lips were curved into a smile. You prepared yourself before pressing down on the circle.

Video:

“Hi guys! So I’ve just found out some amazing news and I thought you guys might want to hear it too—“ Tom began to drum on the table, making you look at him in amusement.

“Oh, that’s a good idea.” You nod, approving of his actions. When he stops drumming and points at you, you look back to the camera with a giant smile.

“Guys...WE MADE IT TO NUMBER ONE! SWEET MELODY IS AT NUMBER ONE ON THE CHARTS!” You announced, voice bouncing off the walls of your house. Behind you was Tom, also cheering equally as loud while he pumped his fists into the air.

“Thank you guys so much! The girls and I love each and every single one of you, you guys are the best fans in the world and we are forever grateful for you. Thank you!” You blew a kiss into the camera before ending the video.

You watched the video over then tagged the girls and the group’s Instagram. You quietly hummed Sweet Melody to yourself as you clicked around and added some stickers to your video. When you were content, you clicked on share and turned your phone off.

“Alright, celebratory breakfast.” You sang as you grabbed your fork and stabbed it into a strawberry.

Tom chuckled beside you and nudged your shoulder, “Then celebratory sex after?” You hummed at his suggestion, eyes teasingly squinting at him.

“Give me time to digest first. Then celebratory sex.” When Tom agreed you laughed and dug into your food. Everything was going great at the moment. Your song is number one on the charts, your career is flourishing, you had four amazing sisters, and you had the world’s best boyfriend. It was as if nothing could go wrong.

~half an hour later~

Tom had you pinned to the bed, light kisses scattering along your skin while his hands rubbed your thighs. With clothes still on, he was snuggled in between your legs, finding comfort in the tight space. He managed to get your top off leaving you in that red lacy bra he adored on you. His lips ghosted between the valley of your breast and down to your belly button. His lips stopping right above your sweatpants. He tilted his head back a bit to drink in your appearance. Hooded dark eyes, laid out before him, that red bra making your breasts look irresistible, you were perfect.

“Look at my pretty girl. Aren’t you stunning?” His voice was deeper than his usual chipper tone. The tone brought butterflies in your belly, the vibrations of his voice going straight to your core.

“I’m all yours, Tommy.” Your hand finds its way to the brown curls that rested on his head. You gently guide his head back up and pull his lips towards you. Your lips connect, first gently and almost innocent, but full of passion. The passion burns more when he presses his hard on against you, roughening up the passionate kiss, your teeths clashing and tongues wrestling. You were lost in his trance until your phone tinged.

Tom curses under his breath as you both jump from the sudden sound. You quietly apologize and mute your phone, not bothering to look at the notification. When you lay back on the bed, Tom’s palms press against you cheeks as he crashes you lips together. His hands move below you, tugging off your sweatpants. He was about to remove the last layer of clothing separating you two when your phone continuously began to vibrate. On the other night stand, Tom’s phone began to vibrate as well.

Your boyfriend groans plopping his head against your stomach. You sigh apologetically, hands now stroking his bare back.

“We should get that, seems important.” He kisses your stomach, hesitantly dragging himself off you. You roll over to your stomach and grab your phone.

Notifications

Jesy💖: We love you too my darling!! We miss you so much here in London:(

Perrie🦋: I would say let’s have a sleepover as soon as you come back from Atlanta, but the pandemic:( I miss you tons!!!🥺

Jade💜: I love youuuuuuuu❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Leigh-Anne😻: You absolute gem, I love you❤️

Jesy💖: (Y/n) what did you tag me in?

Jade💜: Wait, I’m tagged too.

Perrie🦋: I didn’t get tagged :(

Oh wait, I see it :D

Leigh-Anne😻: Why do I have a bad feeling about what she tagged us in?

Jesy💖: (y/n)?

(Y/N)!?

WHY IS SHE NOT REPLYING WHEN I NEED HER TO REPLY!

Perrie🦋: OIIII!!! AT LEAST IT WASNT ME THIS TIME🤪

Jade💜: Jesus, she’s turning into Tom, smh.

Leigh-Anne😻: She’s always been like this lmao

Tom’s only made her worse🙄

Jesy💖: (Y/N) DELETE YOUR FUCKING STORY ON INSTAGRAM THEY ARENT SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT SM IS NUMBER ONE YET!!!!!!!!!!

Jade💜: I bet you NOW she’s busy with Tom

hehehe🍆💦👀

Leigh-Anne😻: Babes!!! Now’s not the time to be doing the deed with Tom!!

Jesy💖: Hold on let me text Tom too.

Your eyes widen as you read the messages from the girls. A string of “shits” with a mix of “fucks” fall continuously out your mouth. You struggle to turn around, getting tangled in the sheets. When you finally sit up properly you go to your Instagram and rush to your stories.

“Uh, (y/n)—“

“Yeah, I know, I know.” You frustratedly mumble as your thumbs fumble on the screen. You go to your story and don’t even hesitate to delete the video you posted just half an hour ago. Tom’s phone rings and you swear you hear him gulp. He answers it, putting it on speaker mode and holds it away from his ears.

“Tom Holland I blame you!” You hear Jesy’s voice through the phone. You double check if you deleted the story before turning your phone off and shoving your face into your pillow.

“I didn’t even do anything!” Tom defended himself, almost laughing. Honestly, as bad as the situation was, it was ironic how it was his girlfriend that leaked the news. You guys are really meant to be.

“The hell you weren’t! Literally drumming on the table, you div! I can’t with you two!” Jesy exclaimed. You knew she was joking by the tone of her voice. “Where is your girlfriend anyway?”

Tom giggle shoving the phone next to your ear, “My lovely girlfriend is right beside me.”

You hear Jesy gag, “Babe, did you even read the email properly?”

You lift your head from the pillow and take Tom’s phone. “No, I got too excited about getting number one.” You admitted pouting. Tom chuckles at you, moving to lay beside you. His arms wrapping around your almost bare figure and shoving his head in between your breasts. Nothing sexual but because they felt like soft pillows against his cheeks.

“They said they’re announcing it on Monday.” She informed you chuckling. You whined and facepalmed yourself. “It’s okay, hun. You were just in the moment, I know how you can get. Although, the fans absolutely love it.” She mentioned.

“Do they?” You asked stifling a laugh.

“Having an absolute field day, they’ve deemed you the Queen of Leaks. Apparently Tom’s been crowned as your king.” She teases. You feel Tom laugh against your chest, his shoulders shaking.

“Alright, I’ll go now, let you two get back to what you were doing. I suggest lurking through Twitter and Instagram, the fans’ reactions are hilarious.” You bid your goodbyes and hang up. Tom’s head pops up from your chest, “Can we please go through the reactions?”

“I was thinking the same thing.” You tell him already opening up Instagram. You go through your tags to see a bunch of memes. Tom shifts to sit beside you, throwing his arm around your shoulder.

Some fan reactions:

🖤 1,944 likes

Tom watching (y/n) make her video and being the supportive boyfriend he is🥺 They’re made for each other I swear

🖤 1,393 likes

The girls watching (y/n)’s story and finding out she just leaked the news. We stan our Queen of Leaks😌🙌🏼👑

🖤 1,838 likes

Tom realizing that (y/n)’s really the one because they both can’t keep secrets without spoiling them. This is why they don’t have good things smh.

🖤 1,878 likes

Jesy calling the police, not for Tom, but for her because she’s ready to shred that boy’s ass for turning (y/n) into him💀

You and Tom spend the rest of the day stuck in bed going through the different reactions from your fans. They were entertaining, making you and your boyfriend laugh at your fans’ humor.

While you sat in between his legs, your back against his chest, Tom leans down to nuzzle his face into your neck. He breaths in the scent of you mixed with your shampoo, something he would never get tired of. You feel that goofy grin press onto your skin making you look up at him.

“Why’s that look on your face?” You ask hun teasingly.

“Because the fans have a point.”

“That we both can’t keep shit to ourselves?” You laugh. Tom makes a sound of agreement pulling you closer.

“Well yeah—but when they say that we’re meant for each other, they have a point. You really are my soulmate.” The goofy grin on his face was permanently stuck to his lips. You giggled shifting to peck his lips. When he sees you struggle he meets you halfway, finally touching those soft luscious lips of yours.

“I guess I am.” You hummed contently, mirroring that lovestruck look on his face. There was no other person in the world that you’d be willing to spend this moment with. The more you stared into those honey brown eyes of his the more you believed your fans; he truly was your soulmate.

[psychdelia]

billy felt his eyes before he found them. felt the unmoving stare, gazing into the back of his skull. at least that’s where he thought he was looking.

he turned around expecting to find steve glaring at him, the same glare he always gave him whenever he messed with him in the halls, shoved him a little too hard during practice. just like he had today. sent harrington down on his ass yet again, but this time he snapped. got right back up just as fast as he fell and shoved billy hard. steve got in his face, fists clenched at his side and ready to start swinging until coach blew his whistle and demanded he sit out. take the rest of practice to cool down before he ends up suspended for throwing the first punch.

but he wasn’t met with a glare. well. not fully. steve was still glaring, but there was something else. some fire. something billy was too familiar with, especially with the high school girls. steve was checking him out. didn’t even realize he was caught staring, eyes wandering over billy’s chest down to his ass and thighs in those tiny green shorts, and right back up again. his eyes lingered on his lips before they finally met blue, pausing once he realized he’d gotten caught. billy felt his cheeks burn up to the tip of his ears, quickly looking away.

he wasn’t used to male attention. sure it was fun to have the girls drool over him. flirt with them only to not act on anything. he loves the attention. doesn’t love reciprocating it. but steve? the guy whose attention he’s been longing for since he got to this goddamn city? well he didn’t know what exactly to do with that. so he looks away. pretends he didn’t even notice. he should put up a front. start a fight. accuse steve of something, throw the same nasty words in his face that his fathers been yelling on repeat as long as he could remember.

billy keeps playing the game. keeps pretending he doesn’t feel steve go right back to watching him, anger laced with heat and want. he hasn’t received attention like this since his dad caught him kissing a boy then nearly killed him and dragged him halfway across the country. he should be scared. should ignore the heat pooling and butterflies fluttering in his belly. but fuck does he want.

like the little bitch he is, he nearly runs to the showers when coach sends them off. ignores the other guys as they talk. keeps his back to harrington, who’s still fucking glaring. the tables have turned, their roles have switched. it’s now steve demanding billy’s attention. steve with his eyes locked on him, just waiting to be met so he can punch or slap or kiss billy if he’s lucky.

steve takes his time showering, eyes wandering over billy’s broad shoulders and strong arms down to his ass as his hands work the shampoo into his hair as slow as possible. the guys pile out one by one and he’s still on conditioner. watches the way billy washes his hair and body, pointedly ignoring steve. steve hates being ignored. so he waits until they’re alone. until billy can’t ignore him anymore and is forced to face him when he turns around to leave. steve steps closer to him, hands twitching at his sides to reach out and touch.

“you’re such a fucking asshole,” steve finally breaks the silence, stepping closer and closer until they’re sharing air. “what’s wrong hargrove? can’t handle a taste of your own medicine?”

billy’s never noticed their height difference until now. he gulps.

“and what are you gonna do about it?” he breathes.

then steve’s shoving him into the wall just as rough as his lips are on his, hands tight and bruising on his hips. billy submits too quick for his own liking, kissing steve back with a hand on the back of his neck. he moans into his mouth when steve’s tongue finds his, one hand squeezing billy’s ass, nails digging into his skin.

billy lets go of any negative thoughts and little voices in the back of his head telling him that this is a bad idea. can’t focus on them when he feels steve’s dick, huge and hard against his thigh. he doesn’t think about it when he breaks the kiss, letting out a soft groan as steve’s lips latch onto his neck. he doesn’t think about it when he grabs steve’s hand and slips two fingers into his mouth, soaking them with spit. he doesn’t think about it when he slides steve’s hand down, shuddering as they slide over his dick before they find his hole. he holds steve’s hand in place, tightly gripping his wrist as he slides one of his fingers into himself. he feels steve gasp into his neck, pulling back to watch as billy slides down to his knuckle.

“holy shit.” steve pants. the sight before him is so fucking hot he almost forgets to take charge.

almost.

he’s quick to bay billy’s hand away from his wrist, using his free hand to hoist billy’s thigh up and around his waist, giving him room to finger him open. he’s quick to slide the second finger in, fucking him fast. billy drops his head against the wall, mouth open and panting like a bitch in heat as steve curls those long fingers just right into his spot. the stretch and burn is delicious as he slides a third one on. doesn’t even ask before he slides his tongue back into billy’s open mouth, now panting and moaning into steve’s.

“you’re so fucking annoying. and hot. fuck.” steve huffs against his lips. “you like this, huh?” he kisses down billy’s neck, sure to leave marks. “you like fucking yourself on my fingers? getting nice and open and wet for me, baby? huh? that why you never leave me alone?” he asks with a particularly rough thrust of his fingers. “been begging me to fuck you this whole time. gonna give it to you so good, baby, so good.”

billy’s thighs are trembling and the only things keeping him up are his hands on steve’s shoulders and the way he’s holding him against the wall.

“please,” he gasps. “steve - fuck.” he moans.

“that’s right. say my name.” steve’s dick is painfully hard at this point, leaking all over their stomachs. “please what?”

“just,” he groans, biting down on steve’s shoulder. “just fuck me already, steve!” he digs his nails into his back, feels steve shudder beneath his fingertips.

and steve must be full of surprises today because suddenly billy’s not on the ground anymore. steve’s arms are wrapped around his thighs, holding him against the wall as he lubes his dick up with more spit and pre. billy’s quick to wrap his legs around steve’s waist, surprised and so fucking turned on at steve’s display of strength. he barely has time to react, though, because steve’s lips are on his again and the head of his dick is slipping into him with no resistance.

they gasp into each other’s mouths as steve slides home, slowly filling billy up with his huge dick. every time billy thinks he’s done, steve stuffs him even fuller. he lets out a moan mixed with a cry when steve bottoms out, and steve swallows it right up.

“king steve.” billy pants as steve starts off with slow, shallow thrusts, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs. “fuck you’re big.” he groans, clenching around steve.

“jesus, billy,” steve shivers as billy tightens around him. “can’t fuck you when you do that.” he whines, thrusting into him sharply. billy’s chuckle cuts off into a moan.

steve doesn’t give him anymore time to adjust before he’s fucking into him hard and fast. it’s filthy. their hips are smacking with every pound into him, billy grinding down against him. his toes curl when steve hits his prostate, nailing it with every hard thrust.

“right there,” billy cries, dick leaking against their stomachs. “don’t stop. harder. faster.” he demands, digging his nails into steve’s shoulders, down his biceps and back.

steve obliges. he’s never fucked anyone like this. pounding into them, rough and hard. there’s always been hand holding and gentle kisses, shallow thrusts. never biting and scratching and railing the guy he’s supposed to hate the most. he’s so fucking big billy’s sure he’ll feel it the next day when he wakes up, sore with a funny walk. he can’t care about that with the way steve’s lifting him up and down by the tight grip on his thighs, impaling him on his dick. steve fucks him so good and hammers into his spot, billy swears he’s seeing stars. swears he can go out like this, stuffed full of steve’s big dick, pounding him hard and unrelenting, and he’d die a happy man.

but there’s no time to die when steve’s hand is brushing against his nipples then sliding down to wrap around his dick, both of them moaning as billy shudders and clenches tight. he uses billy’s pre as lube, pressing his thumb into his slit before roughly jerking him off in time with his thrusts.

“oh fuck.” billy groans, heat pooling low in his belly. “steve - ah - gonna,” he pants. “gonna cum.”

“do it.” steve moans. “come on, billy. cum for me, baby. feel so good.” he cups and squeezes his balls before jacking him off again, keeping his thumb pressed into his slit.

that’s all it takes to set billy off. clenching almost painfully tight around steve’s dick, moans bordering on shouts as he cums into his hand and all over their stomachs, nearly reaching up to their chests. steve doesn’t last very long, can’t with the way billy’s body trembles beneath his fingertips and his ass tightens around him. he kisses billy when he cums, giving a last few harsh thrusts before he’s buried deep inside him, and billy gladly swallows down steve’s moans. shivers and shudders when he feels steve’s cum inside him.

steve stays put for about a minute, panting into billy’s mouth, foreheads pressed. he slowly slides out of him, both of them hissing as he sets billy down. he falls right into steve who catches him, legs trembling. steve’s arms latch around his waist, holding him upright. one hand gently rubs the small of his back before sliding down. he easily slides two fingers into billy’s used hole, stopping any more cum from dropping down his legs.

billy groans with a, “you’re gross,” but his hips betray him as he weakly grinds down against pretty boy’s fingers.

“that’s all you.” steve smirks, licking billy’s bitten pink lips. “you busy?” billy buries his face into stages neck, shakes his head. “round two at my place?” billy quickly nods, placing soft kisses to his moles.

[megumisbimbo]

Y/N (27) Athletic Trainer*

Ushijima x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, smut, little bit of oral

word count: 1.7k

minors dni please!!

all characters are aged up! (timeskip! ushijima)

a/n: this is my first smut so please be kind HAKDJ

Ushijima’s blunt manner could be seen as frustrating and at times, annoying. But you couldn’t help but appreciate the way he would simply tell it like it is. Like right now.

“I know this is sudden, but I’m interested in you y/n. Would you allow me to take you to dinner?”

Your heart races as you stare into the eyes of one of Japan’s greatest athletes. You were just a lowly athletic trainer, working under the equally as entrancing, Iwaizumi Hajime. Your hands are clammy as they clutch the clipboard that’s pressed against your chest. You had no clue this man had any kind of interest in you, you just worked for him. After all the interactions, the trainings, attending to his injuries, and basically being his personal trainer, he eventually caught feelings.

“Oh um- sure Ushijima-san, I would love to join you for dinner.”

You couldn’t lie, the thought of going out with such a prestigious and revered man sounded amazing, and it’s not like his feelings weren’t reciprocated. You’ve had eyes for Ushijima ever since Iwaizumi-san assigned you to him. It’s truly a dream come true that he developed feelings for you, and you were not going to pass this opportunity up.

“I’ll pick you up around 6 then.” He says, face straight and confident.

Your voice is caught in the back of your throat, but you manage to muster out a quick “sure.”

You race home eager to doll yourself up for the occasion. You finally had a date with the one guy that made you feel like more than just an employee. He was always so attentive. Constantly caring about how you were doing. He would greet you without fail, even if you weren’t working with him that day. Iwaizumi seemed to notice as well, always poking fun at the thought of losing “his best trainer” to a “very handsome, and very interested man.” You brushed off his teases, denying any sort of feeling for the ace. Deep down you knew your feelings. How your face felt 100 times hotter when he stood next to you, and how hard it was to keep your composure when you tended to his injuries. You were a mess around him and it was a miracle you were able to keep your job for this long. But not anymore. You didn’t need to hold back any longer.

You had picked out the perfect dress, not too fancy but not super casual either. It hugged your body in exactly the right ways, and showed off your assets a bit more than you wanted it to, but you couldn’t complain.

A knock at your door startles you. You quickly grab your purse and phone and run to go answer it. You’re met with the sight of Ushijima’s tall, stocky body leaning against the side of the entrance of your apartment. His olive eyes rake up and down your body taking in your perfect features.

“You look beautiful y/n, as usual.”

You blush heavily at his comment and curse the gods for making him so damn blunt.

“You look wonderful as well.” You say, your voice barely audible. You don’t see the slight blush that creeps across his tan skin. He takes you to his car and drives you back to his penthouse. He was rich of course, but you already knew that. This was not the first time you’ve seen his home, many meetings between the two of you were conducted in his home office. You never felt unsafe or out of place with him, so you were quite comfortable going to his house for various reasons. Although this time, the reasoning was a bit more...intimate. He pulls into the garage and leads you up to his place, which he has minimally decorated.

“I hope you don’t mind that it’s at my place, I couldn’t seem to find any reservations at the restaurant you like.”

“No! of course I don’t mind, I’m honestly glad you invited me at all.” You say, your voice once again trailing to a whisper. You were surprised he remembered what your favorite restaurant was, and that he would go out of his way to find reservations.

“You’re awfully quiet today y/n, that’s not like you. Am I making you uncomfortable in any way?”

“Not at all Ushijima-san! I just...haven’t been out on a date in a while and I’m not quite sure what to expect.” You answer, instantly feeling bad for leading him to feel this way.

“That’s a relief, I am pretty nervous myself. I also haven’t taken someone out in a while, but rest assured I will take good care of you tonight.” He says, his usually hard and focused eyes softening at the sight of your shaking hands. Your demeanor immediately changes and you’re back to how you usually feel around him, safe and protected.

The dinner goes smoothly. Ushijima insisted on cooking for the two of you, and the sight of him being so domestic definitely made it harder to hide your feelings for him but it was over sooner than you had hoped. He politely walks you to the door, but as soon as your hand makes contact with the handle and the door opens slightly, something in him snaps. His large hand slams against the door closing it abruptly.

“Forgive me for being so forward y/n...but I don’t want you to go just yet.”

His opposite hand rests on your waist as his lips attach to your exposed shoulder. His kisses were light and feathery, leaving a hot trail in its wake. Your body felt like it was on fire and you could feel the arousal pooling in your thin lace panties. You turn yourself around and grab onto the collar of his white dress shirt, pulling him flush against your body. Your lips smash against his and your tongues intertwine as his hand trails down the curve of your ass down to your thigh lifting your leg. You instinctively wrap your leg around him as he leans down to grab your the other one. He carries you into his room, and lays you down on his bed. The soft silk sheets he uses only add to the arousal as they crease slightly under your tight grip.

“y/n, can I take your dress off?” He asks, panting heavily.

“Please...”

He carefully removes your dress, his fingertips trailing down your body as his lips press sweet kisses across your chest.

“You have no idea what you do to me y/n. Can I take your panties off? Let me make you feel good.”

Your body gets impossibly hotter at how careful and considerate he is.

“Please Ushijima-san..take it all off..”

He obliges, pulling them down and off your body then reaching around your arched back to snap off your bra, throwing them both on the floor. He stops, giving himself a moment to take in your fully exposed body before he buries his face into your neck.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He says as his thumb slowly circles your clit.

“Gonna make you feel so good.”

You moan loudly, your hands finding purchase in his olive locks. You tug slightly, eliciting a soft groan from him. His face is red and flushed, embarrassed at the sounds he was making.

“I like your sounds Toshi...mmm don’t stop.”

He moans at the use of his first name, loving the way it sounds coming out of your mouth.

He slips a finger into your sopping wet entrance. You moan from the slight stretch. Noticing that he was still clothed, you reach out and unbutton his dress shirt. Your hands trial down his chest, finding the buckle of his belt and skillfully undoing it. He shakes his shirt off, letting it drop on the floor next to yours, his pants finding themselves in the same place. He inserts his finger into you again, accompanied by a second, and then a third. The knot builds in your stomach and threatens to snap.

“hngg- Toshi...more- please more!”

His quickens his movements pulling you closer to your release. In between moans and cries of his name, you come undone. He slips his slicked fingers into his mouth tasting your sweet release.

“You taste so good y/n...here taste with me.”

He reaches up and sticks one in your mouth and you diligently suck, tasting yourself mixed with his hot saliva. He pulls his fingers out, making a lewd popping sound.

He pulls his black boxers down and throws them in the clothing pile, his erect cock springing free. He lines himself up with your entrance and leans forward to kiss you.

“Tell me if it hurts. I’ll make you feel so good angel I promise.”

He pushes himself inside slowly, paying close attention to your body language and the way you squirm under him.

“mmm ‘s big Toshi- feels so good.”

“Yeah? Tell me how good you feel pretty girl.”

“Feel so full- ughh”

You moan and squirm as you feel the knot tighten a second time. His thrusts are slow and gentle, every move targeted towards your pleasure.

“Fuck Toshi- ‘m coming- hngg”

“Come for me y/n. Wanna feel you around my cock.”

His lewd words send you tumbling over the edge and towards your release. He pulls out giving himself a few quick strokes, his release soon covering your lower stomach.

He falls next to you, sweating and out of breath. You turn and cup his cheek in your hand.

“Thank you Toshi, you’re always so good to me...wanna make you feel good too...”

He chuckles, “Next time you can, but for now let’s sleep. Stay with me tonight?”

“Of course.” You respond, your cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much.

After a few moments of catching his breath and stealing a few kisses, he climbs out of bed and grabs a warm, damp towel. He gently wipes your sore body down, massaging your aching hips in between. He pulls the sheet up and over your body and climbs into the bed next to you.

“Goodnight beautiful.” He says, softly pecking your lips.

“Goodnight Wakatoshi.”

<3

[semischarmed]

Chrysalis, Part 3

This was the day. The tremors have only intensified. I feel myself tearing at the arm that I had fully bonded with Kyle. If I don’t act soon that’s all that’s gonna be left of me in him. So I decided it had to be today. I’ve been shivering all over too, probably in fear or anticipation? Probably both.

By no means was Red ready. He had a natural fighting streak so it wasn’t gonna be a smooth process. As prepared as I was, the odds were stacked against me. This body’s connection with me has degraded significantly faster than I had anticipated. Had I gone with anyone else, I’d be permanently one with Kyle by now, but of course it had to start with Red. No use crying over spilled milk. Taking Red would be the struggle of a lifetime. Had it just been me in my old body, I would have given up outright. But I was Kyle now, and Kyle does Not. Give. Up.

———

I fight a long, close game in the early afternoon and we barely eke out a win- mostly thanks to me, despite my current condition. I hug my teammates as our sweat and smells coalesce in the blazing sun. We bake uncomfortably long in the heat. They really were great teammates. Kyle basically did a 180 in their eyes, being far more comfortable, far more sociable, far more filthy- yet they accept me regardless. I breath them in, remarking on them and myself for possibly the last time, before making my way back to my dorm. 

I stop halfway as I am instantly crippled in a massive tremor that forces me to the ground. I retch. This was too tenuous, too delicate. There would be no time for any detours. I immediately run for Sig Chi.

———

Red wakes in a cold sweat in his bed, in the filtered light of the moon, to the image of his naked little bro- to the image of me jacking off to him. Of course he had to also be a light sleeper.  

“Heyyy Big Bro” I whisper menacingly, licking my lips. Fuck. Ok, ok, gotta improvise.

“Kyle? Kyle! What the fuck?! How did you get here? And, oh fuck... Jeeezus, is that you? Dude you fucking reek” I could tell he was trying to categorize the smell, but I quickly correct him. 

“That’s right I fucking reek, this cute little meat-suit had a game today. This is what my team smells like, this is what a man smells like,” I rush up to the naked Red, who instinctively recoils and pulls his sheets up. I lean in to my speechless big bro, sticking my face close to his, bringing our foreheads together. Despite his overall friendliness, he was a dangerous one. I’ve never met so much resistance in a person. I could show him no weakness.

I grab his head with my hands, pointing it downward to our bare chests, so we can both smell our combined odor. “This is what we’ll smell like”.

Red attempts to defuse the situation. “Ok, ok dude, great prank” he laughs, obviously disturbed. “But I- “ Before he can continue, I smear a bit of precum over his lips. ”I can’t wait to make you mine... big bro” I moan. I cup his sweaty left pec with my hand, giving a slight squeeze. His nipples, rock hard. “Kyle, get the fuck off me! The fuck is this?!” He pushes me off his bed with a force I did not expect. Still, my Big Bro Red- being the nice guy he was- made sure to only push me safely into a pile of old clothes. With the parts of me that were already inside him, I restrict any further movement. He breaks free from my grasp in small blips of resistance.

Red struggles in vain to leave his bed and I focus my hold on his body further. “You know, I was wondering how much cum it would take for your body to start accepting mine...” I trail. “Kyle, what the fuck are you talking about... what is this?!” He again struggles to move against his invisible restraints. I grab his water bottle and lift it up near him, giving it a little shake, motioning to it with my head. “Cmon, there’s no way you haven’t noticed... How’d you like the exclusive taste of me?” He shakes his head, utterly revolted, horrified, while a tent begins to form in his bedsheets. He looks down stating “no, no, that.... that’s not me... Kyle, this is...” I smile, amused, at the situation. Half-truth. For one he was wrong, that body of his was most definitely turned on. But I concede, if anything, that it was probably the result of his constant exposure to my seed moreso than his actual feelings for his little bro in the frat. Though his body had not been fully primed to accept me, I decide to continue layering on the mental damage, to better ease me in for the upcoming fight.

Since Red had so rudely interrupted my little session, I decide to continue where I left off, pumping my meat in front of him as I tear off his bedsheets.

“Oh Red, oh god Red! My roommate... he-he snuck inside me and ah fuck he took me... he stole me... poisoned my insides with himself... twisted me- look at me when I’m fucking talking Red- Look at how I wear his cute smile. Look how his body, his muscles, his feelings bend to my will. I make a great Kyle don’t I? Look how good I am at playing with my dick. Well I am Kyle, so of course I’m a great fucking Kyle.” Before I finish, I slip just my hand inside his- its veins flare up at my intrusion but I maintain the control of our now-shared appendage, bringing it up so we can examine it together. I wink at him before I seductively suck each of our fingers while I push my arm into his further. He watches in shock as he feels every motion. “But, you know Red, you know my roommate? That asshole is pretty greedy, asked me who else he’d look great in... and I told him I thought he’d make a great Red. I told him we’d be great at wearing your skin.” With our joint hand, I continue to pump my hard on, reveling in Red’s confusion and disgust in the process. I grab his dick, bringing it next to mine and letting him pleasure us both at the same time with his rough hand. He sweats as he continues to control his emotion, attempting to remain stoic. On the other hand, I am reduced to moans and whimpers- a sight that probably looks incredibly off coming from Kyle. His lip trembles and he lets out a soft grunt and a massive wave of pleasure hits us both. We begin to feel the sensations from each other’s dick in the process. Our breaths are shallow, and I look into my future eyes. 

“I-I’m a special case though. This?” I gesture to my own body with my free hand, as I explode, splashing a little on Red’s lips and lot on myself. Red explodes soon after and he stifles a moan. I now drag our shared hand all over my body, smearing and mixing our cum together over my stolen abs and his. “Kyle is fully mine. Forever. And you’re gonna make sure we stay that way.”

I raise Red’s now-slick, now-possessed hand again for him to examine. Veins rise as it struggles to resist my control, but I double down, giving a mean smirk and balling our shared hand into a fist. “If was just possessing him, we wouldn’t be able to then possess your hand. This? This is proof that he and I are one.” I follow by using that hand to squeeze my dick and Red’s together, until they coalesce into just his. Red is in shock at the events that have just unfolded, and I intend to use that situation to my full advantage. “No hard feelings big bro, you’re cute and all but I’m his forever home”. I lace my knees beneath his and smash my lower half into him. I feel his body clench and cringe until it is forced to accept mine. “Still, thank you for being there for me. When I realized we needed a new chrysalis to complete me... I knew it could only be through my Big Bro Red. I knew I could depend on your hot bod.” Our legs are one.

In one swift motion, I also slam my sticky wet chest into his, causing him to yelp in disgust and horror. I take the dribbling of my cum on his chin and, using our combined hand, I shove my seed into his mouth. I keep our fingers jammed into his mouth, making sure he gets a good taste of some fresh Kyle cum and his own beefy fingers. “Eat that shit up. I want that taste still in my mouth when I’m inside you” I moan. I snake my free arm into his other bicep. It shivers, glistening in the moonlight, covered in perspiration. Vibrating, his arm yields control to its new master- to me. These arms belong to Kyle now. “God we’re so close babe,” I moan. By now, only the upper edge of my chest and head are sticking out of his. I test out the new arms I have in my possession. They’re far larger than Kyle’s so I decide to stop here for a bit and revel in maneuvering my new sweaty biceps. I make Red flex for them me, and in straining movements, he is forced to show me what they can do. I moan, as my free head falls on his shoulder, drained from the process. 

“Honestly, I only settled on your ass cause you’re the next Pledgemaster. I knew you’d be perfect for slipping on some of next year’s pledges, perfect for making great fucking puppets out of this frat.” I mumble to his shoulder before looking back up at him. “But now? After getting to know you a little more? I think want something a little more. I want a taste of that ginger dick. I want a taste of that best friend of yours. Jeremy- he’s fucking hot- I bet he’s delicious, but I bet he’d be even fucking hotter and taste even fucking better from his best friend’s mouth. And when I’m inside him, wearing him as my new puppet, I want it to be because you stuffed me in there.” Emotionally, I think I have him defeated. His body more freely yields to me and my becoming Kyle is almost finally complete.

I intend to continue spouting weird shit to spook him but the part of me still outside of Red slips in a wave of cosmic shock, partially removed from Kyle. I shake violently in pain. Shit. Before I can recover, Red picks up on it and begins to fight me with his body all over. He flares to life and I feel his all out attack on me. “Kyle, Kyle, you gotta fight this. Cmon man, fight your roommate!” I feel my grasp over him slipping. 

“Fuck off” I growl, losing my composure. “He likes us this way. Wants us as one permanently-forever-together because I am Kyle. You wouldn’t understand. Here, have a taste of your little’s hot mouth.” I lean up and kiss him unexpectedly, digging my tongue into his mouth, merging my lips with his. 

He tries to scream, only to be stifled to a  “mmphhph”. I glide my tongue over his, wrestling it into submission before jamming it inside of his. I stifle a moan as our tongues become one. I slam my face ever closer to him, until we both breath and speak from the same mouth, until at last we can only see each other’s eyes. I give him a quick wink before finishing my possession and locking myself inside my human chrysalis.

Red’s body continues to light with tremors as the fight inside drags on. I make sure to cum a little more inside him, to layer more of myself and cement him forever mine. His eyes roll to the back of his head and his mouth opens unwarranted as he settles the last of his hold over his body to fight me. Goddamn he is tenacious. After what feels like hours, his body finally yields to me. He shakes viciously as the universe begins its correction. Red collapses onto the ground. In Red’s core I feel the last of Kyle’s essence integrate into my own. I feel the permanence of our connection. Nothing would ever take me out of Kyle again. I was Kyle- past, present and future. Natural order had been restored. Inside Red I felt safe, secure, complete.

I feel Red’s sweet release. He’s at peace, at bliss, since I can finally connect to his deepest parts, rearranging him into my perfect vessel. He would be mine forever. Then, I feel the fight from his mind. He grasps his body again, reiterating, begging for “Kyle” to break free from my control.

“I am here” I stated as Red, but only Kyle’s voice comes out. I break out of my shell. My naked form expels itself from Red, covered our juices, covered in my aura of forever. I close my eyes, breathing in the dank night air in Red’s room. He’s right, I fucking reek, but it felt good to smell it as a permanent Kyle. It felt good to stand with my permanently athletic legs. It felt good to use that word. Permanent.

Of course, I also left a lot of my seed in Red. Rearranged his insides so they’d better fit me. I watch expectantly at the soon-to-be reborn Red. Control over his body lights up in my mind. Red was mine. 

I examine him as Kyle, playfully humming in his voice softly while I circle -around him, lightly tracing the outlines of his muscles- of my new acquisition. I will him to give me another gun-show. His body complies. Fuck. Yes. My Big Bro’s hot ginger ass was truly mine to control. “Cmon babe, you have to admit...” I trail as Kyle. “I wear you well”. As Red, my faces dances in ecstatic joy before giving myself a wink.

Red’s body giggles as I assert more control of his frame and do some small seductive dances in front of my main body. “Yeah... all me” I moan as Red- though only Kyle’s voice comes out of him. Something else was still missing. “But I think this needs a little more.” I say out loud. I worship my new self with the two new bodies I control. In the midst of my little play session, I feel Red’s mind stir within me. There it was.

I feel him inside me, digging through my mind to look for his friend, to pull Kyle out of my grasp. I feel him desperately claw his way around and decide to humor him, giving him full access to me. In increasing anguish, he pulls to my corners, digs through the depths of my mind trying to find a separate Kyle to rescue him from his roommate’s clutches. Instead, he finds no separation, no distinction between my old self and Kyle’s. When he digs, looking for Kyles memories, he instead finds them interlaced with my own. In the physical world, Red’s face paints itself with a deranged smile. I surround Red’s Psyche “Told you he was special... he’s mine forever... don’t worry though, big bro. You didn’t lose Kyle. I’m right here. You won’t be alone. I’ll be right here, inside you too”. I briefly lose control of Red’s body as I continue with my all out assault on his mind. Red’s face cringes in pain as I bombard his sense of self, embedding me inside his psyche, corrupting my Big Bro with my perversions. He briefly laughs sadistically, yielding to his newfound gifts, yielding to the pieces of me I put inside him. He moans, wrapping more of my psyche into himself “fuck yeah, babe. Keep going, I’m a good Big Bro... I can take it” before shaking his head in anger “fuck you Kyle!” The switch inside Red flips back and he resumes into moans and filthy whispers about me wearing his skin. He again snaps back and punches the nearby wall. “FUCK!” he shouts. God he was strong. I already had his body, I already had his mind, I already had Red by all accounts, yet through pure resolve alone he resists me. God I couldn’t wait to have that will of steel as my own. In any case, It looks like his body’s inclinations just needs a final little push. 

I assert my new dominance over Red’s body, slapping my Kyle-self in the face, before finally speaking with Red’s voice, using it for the first time. Just controlling his voice was invigorating. “You sick fuck, Kyle. Look what you did to me, what you did in me. Toppled your Big Bro Red, conquered me, just like that. Wore my ass like suit and then left your squirmy little pieces inside” I lace his words with sex. Coming out of Red, out of my Big Bro, it feels almost blasphemous. Fuck yeah, Red feels great to be in. This body is amazing. I received the slap in Kyle with a moan. “Fuck yeah, big bro, it feels good doesn’t it? You like being my little puppet, don’t you? You want me in there, wearing you like a glove...” As Red I twirl my new fiery locks with my new, thicker fingers, “Yeah little bro... but I think we need an extra little punishment for you, for being such a fucking creep.” I make Red pout, sucking on his index finger while he continues “ How about your weird roommate jumps inside you and sews himself into your insides. How about he go even further and actually become your insides. How about he actually becomes you... How about your hot Big Bro make it permanent” I cackle maniacally as Red while Kyle’s face shifts into the dirty sneer I make us wear.

I parse Red’s mind for his reaction. It was from this point that he realizes just how far I went with Kyle. How much I became him. He relents at the matter, equally angry and aroused, finally understanding that Kyle was the one that took possession of him. Kyle created the plans to corrupt the frat. Kyle was the one did these heinous deeds because there was no difference between Kyle and his creepy roommate. Because I was Kyle. 

Red wrestles back control of his body. “Fuck you Kyle, I’ll make you fucking pay for this. When I break free I’m gonna-” I cut him off as I sneer with Kyle’s face, making Red’s do the same as I continue his sentence in moans “-come crawling back because I’m your bitch forever.” I laugh heartily in his voice. Time for that little push. 

In the heat of moment, I let him feel the sheer thrill of having both bodies under control, the sheer thrill of being me, before granting him control over his own body while I resonate within his psyche over the sheer ecstasy. He moans loudly “Fuck yeah... good boy... be a good Little, while dear Red here shows you how it’s done...” He rushes behind my main body, dragging his muscular arms in front of my chest feeling me up. We feel both sensations. Indescribable bliss. He leans in to my ear “we have unfinished business, bitch. It’s all your fault I’m like this... these-these... feelings...” he moans. “This is unnatural... and your punishment... your puppet wants a more” he licks my ear, probing his thick slimy tongue all over while his vascular hands tousle my sweaty hair. “C’mon Kyle. You know this body was built for fucking. Let me teach you how to use it right. Put on my skin- put this brain on. Wear me. Wear your big bro’s stud bod. Put your dick inside of mine. Haven’t-“  he trails off, grabbing his head in anguish “damn it... Kyle, why... why I am I like this...I’m a monster...  What did you do to me?!” Tears well in Red’s eyes, before he catches a whiff of my scent. He goes into a toothy grin as anguish flips to a lustful frenzy. He grabs my rod in his vascular hands, and begins pumping it. He moans as we are both hit with the feeling. “Actually, no... this is good. This feels right. This is correct. I’m not a monster, I’m a fucking god. Kyle you have a decent dick... but haven’t you wondered what bigger was like? I’m bigger. Look at this thick cock. Your big bro’s got you. Come back inside, where it’s safe...” Red slams his sweaty body onto my back, dragging me inside, encasing me in his muscular flesh. He locks his arms under my own, preventing my escape, and I play along, writhing in his grasp as he draws me back, deeper and deeper into him. “I want you squirming inside me when we fuck Jeremy. When we fuck the rest of the frat... I want-I need you to do it with this dick... contaminate them. Inject them with it. Give em a little taste of Red and Kyle.” Inside Red, I sheath his dick over my own, but continue letting him take the lead. “Fuck yeah.. that’s the stuff..” He moans. “FUCK YEAH” he roars, “trying” to push me out of him. I resist, as much as I can anyway, until I can no longer maintain it and am suddenly pushed out of him. ”Not yet, bitch” he murmurs, before his flesh greedily devours mine again, moaning all the while. We repeat this a few times, edging him closer and closer. 

I am paralyzed in bliss at the sensations, but Red maintains a better grasp of his emotions. He walks his inflamed, Kyle-filled self over to the pile of dirty, soccer-drenched clothes on the floor that I had I worn prior to getting into his room. He brings them up to his nose, inhaling deeply. “More...” he whispers... “I need more of you”. He puts them on, huffing in short, frenzied breaths, starting with the dirty  compression shorts I had worn for my game. They are stretched impossibly tight on his ass, and he moans when the waistband snaps back at our shared dick. We proceed with the soccer shirt, thick biceps ripping the sleeves and turning it into a tank. The remains of my dirty shirt cling onto Red’s torso like a second skin, imprinting the delicate curve of each ab, each bicep, and each nipple on to its straining fabric.“Thank you... for the Kyle Sandwich” he whimpers in a trance as his eyes roll to the back of his head and we collapse onto the floor. We smell like my team after a long game. We smell like the forest. Equal parts putrid and petrichor. We smell like ecstasy. His eyelids flutter. “Good little bro”. 

Then, tranquility is broken when he pushes me out. “grrrAHHH FUCk YOU KYLE” he half-shouts, half -moans. I am speechless. My form is again forcibly removed from his- I feel my visage imprint over his own, stretching his taught skin as it wraps over mine. I can see the light of day with my own eyes, and feel my cheeks stretched and melded to his freckled skin. Just a bit more. From behind me, where the back of my head should be, I feel Red’s smile and moan, as he feels my weight above him. He takes his thick arms rubbing them all over me, making sure I was stimulated the entire time I was being pushed out of him. “You got the right idea Kyle- no more deodorant for your big bro Red... we smell fucking better like this” I feel him stir, getting ready to pounce-no doubt to drag me back in. Before I can even say anything, I quickly realize the limits of my depossession. The process of pushing me out of him has slowed to a crawl. As my body continues to be expelled, to be raised out of Red, I am met with my own impossibly tight shirt and underwear, drenched in our sweat and restricting my freedom. The further my body leaves, the tighter we are pulled together by the fabric. We both moan this time. “Fuck Kyle! Get out! Get the fuck out of me!” he play-screams half convincingly, as he does a crunch with me above him. I feel the crunch from behind and he forcibly worms my own form back inside him. I pass out at the sensory overload. 

When I awake, I awake in Red. I walk to the mirror and see his face as my own. In split second intervals, my Kyle-self stretches out his skin and attempts to leave before it is pulled back. We are tight. Nauseatingly full-impossibly so. By all accounts, Kyle’s body should have been expelled from Red after being inside this long-possession doesn’t usually last this long, but my little fighter, my Big Bro Red will not let me go. We are held together by my own clothing and his sheer will. Partners. Amalgamate. Corrupt. I quickly take control and feel his voice in the back of my mind, screaming at me to get out- again, only half-convincingly. For all his perfection, Red really needed some acting lessons. I begin to feel the effects of being stuck in his body for so long, as a lightness and a numbness washes over me. Yet in that same vein I feel indescribably close to him, with a hyper-awareness of Red’s body. This can’t last too long, I assume, as both of us have long since hit our limit. I throw up involuntarily on the floor- it’s all just cum. 

Instead of stopping, the previous process repeats again. Our little possession dance happens again and again and again after that until we are utterly drained. We live as one Red, constantly in turmoil in the inside and perpetually in heat. Finally, a full three days later, we are both satisfied. I finally truly break from him as a lone Kyle. For one, I fucking smell, but also I am still a student. This whole experience had been immensely tiring. Still, I felt a sense of peace, in knowledge that new-Red would never leave me. 

———

Though I initially wanted to fully take and possess Red, to use his body as a mindless puppet for my own, I kind of like our current setup. I moved into his room the very next day after our little break, much to the annoyance to the rest of Sig Chi. Red moans all the time when I possess him- he’s not particularly quiet about it either, and he begs for it every other day, before berating me when I actually follow through. Our “incestuous” nature is pretty clear to the rest of my frat brothers but they awkwardly avoid the subject. Jeremy is the only one that’s visibly pissed- guess we’re breaking every law in frat code or something. Whatever. If anything, they’ll all be seeing the light someday soon- and we have something extra special planned for Jeremy anyway. 

I like to keep Big Bro Red in a pendulum state, between full autonomy and full possession. Even now, he constantly ‘fights’, attempting to push me out of him in vain and then dragging my ass back inside. To be honest, I find this whole setup kind of hot. I sure he does too. We’re always wrestling for control inside him, even though we both knew he was mine forever. I’ve extended the offer a few times to just jump into someone else in the frat or even leave forever but he always throws a big fit about it. Maybe he liked by puppetted by his little bro. Maybe he liked the fight. Maybe one day, I’ll actually fully take him. Of course, for now his red hot body runs a little warmer these days from our constant little dance. For now, I’ve been just been having fun, jumping in and out of him, swimming through his insides. We’ve been meaning to share too, naturally. There are some others on my mind- Red’s best friend, the Sig Chi president Jeremy- who we both agree that hot, dominant ass would make a for lovely little body to wear. Before Red, I was fine as just one person. I am forever grateful that he was my chrysalis, that he first full possession as Kyle. Because he helped me realize a king needs subjects. One day, I’ll take them all- every last hot piece of ass in this school. But for now, I’m content with occasionally just controlling and wearing Red, just wearing my proof of authenticity as Kyle.

—End Part 3—

Phew. Next story’s probably gonna be a bit lighter.

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

Ink on his heart

Summary: Here’s how Bucky Barnes got a haircut and then decided it was about damn time he controlled his own destiny - starting with a bit of ink. 

Star Spangled Bingo Square: “A thoughtful gift”

Characters: Bucky Barnes x TattooArtist!Reader

Words: 7,400 Warnings: Tattoo experiences, a couple stories about war. Some swearing. Mostly lots of feels and fluff.

A/N: This one has been in my head a long time, I love tattoos and I love the idea of Bucky getting them! While I desperately wish I could draw the designs in my head, hopefully you get enough of a word picture to imagine. And yes, it is kinda long (I know, I know), but I couldn’t stop myself! 

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

Not that Bucky’s counting, but it’s been three days, 18 hours and 26 minutes and he can’t get over it.

In the damp, chilly hours before dawn, he sits on the floor of the tower living room, watching the marshmallows in his hot chocolate melt in white swirls. Now and then, he lifts his eyes to the windows, finds the faint edges of his reflection in the dark glass, and tilts his head. Tentative fingers scratch through close cropped hair and a slow smile appears. Even now, he expects long strands trailing through his fingers. Believes he can feel the phantom tug of a snarl.

It was just a haircut. What a simple, ordinary thing.  

But Bucky Barnes has never been ordinary.

That small act triggered a startling transformation. Decades of heartbreak fell away with that dark hair, revealing the shape of a man he begins to remember, and it makes him think. About small things, about change. About simple acts making an extraordinary difference.

The last haircut Bucky remembers before the beginning of his first ending, was January 1945. The memory came back one evening, of a tent in Austria, the heavy silence of snow drifting down. He remembers Steve with a dull scissors, snipping carefully along his ear, remembers the catch of a knife gently shaving his neck. It was a ritual they shared for years. When pennies were tight and life was tough, they took care of each other.

And then? Then there was after.

After the fall, after capture, after the world went pear-shaped. Hydra wasn’t concerned with the formalities of self-care, a haircut was functional. Sharp scissors biting into his scalp, rough hands tearing his hair, a harsh slap if he considered resisting. Get it done and get it done fast. The Asset has work to do.

He despised those haircuts.

But now, here he is. No more handlers and horrors. No more running. No more hiding. No more ropes dragging him somewhere he doesn’t want to be.

Wresting back his independence was exhilarating.

When Steve had finished this haircut - because Bucky still preferred a Steve Rogers special to anything - he’d dusted off Bucky’s shoulders and waited. Sam stood behind him, and Bucky rolled his eyes, expecting a barrage of sassy comments.

But Sam just ruffled the freshly cut hair and laughed.

“Not bad old man. Still not as handsome as yours truly, but hey - maybe someday.”

Such a simple thing, a haircut.

It makes him wonder what else he might do, just for himself.      

Fuzzy and disconnected, an old memory flickers to life. It buzzes in his brain, images and connections filtering through the cracks and Bucky lets out a breathless laugh.

“Yeah,” he murmurs to himself. “Okay.”

He closes his eyes and sips his hot chocolate.

*****

Steve yawns when he answers the door. Blond hair spikes in every direction and he rubs his eyes, looking for all the world like a sleepy, overgrown toddler.

“Hey, man. Everything okay?”

Bucky leans against the doorframe and chews his thumbnail while he gathers his thoughts.

“Sure, just - can I get a favor?”

Bemused, Steve ushers him inside and Bucky plops in the red bean bag chair Steve keeps tucked beside his dresser. Stretching out his legs, he waits for Steve to flop back into bed and snuggle his pillow, before he speaks.

“Remember back in ’37 when we were coming home from that shitty bar in Midtown, and we saw that sailor getting a tattoo?”

Whatever Steve expected, it wasn’t this. It takes him a moment to conjure the image, but when it comes he belts out a laugh.

“That terrified kid gettin’ a big heart on his arm? Looked ready to shit his pants?”

Bucky grins at the memory, a milk-faced kid with hair dark and shiny as an oil-slick.  

“Thought he was gonna puke on the guy.”

“Yeah, and didn’t we stand outside that window arguing while you tried to convince me we both needed one? Something about good girls liking bad boys?”  

“Hey, I stand by that statement!”

“Oh fuck off, you know exactly what your Ma would’ve said if we’d come home with tattoos.”

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckles. “God, she’d a skinned me alive.”

“Damn straight,” Steve agrees and they fall quiet, momentarily lost in shared memories of a woman with a voice of steel and a heart of gold.

Bucky leans forward and rests his chin on his knee.

“You know, all these years and I’ve never really - done anything like that,” he admits wistfully. “Gotten something done to me, I mean. Something I decided on my own. If that makes sense?”

Controlling his own destiny, choosing to do something by himself, instead of always accepting things done to him - the idea is intoxicating. He remembers the pained grimace on that sailor’s face and he relishes the prospect.

Pain you choose to feel holds a different meaning, than the torture he knows.

“S’never too late, Buck,” Steve says drowsily. “You can do anything you want.”

Bucky contemplates Steve’s words. He can do anything he wants. Heart beating fast, he takes a deep breath.

“So listen, I was thinking -”

*****

For two straight weeks, Steve works on ideas.

The floor of his bedroom is littered with sketches and concepts, crumpled sheets of paper dappled with flowing lines. Finally, after midnight on a dreary Thursday, he knocks on Bucky’s door. The moment it opens, he shoves his tattered leather portfolio in Bucky’s hands.

“So, I guess, uh - here.”

Steve crosses his arms, his toe tapping nervously, and Bucky chokes down a laugh. Some things about Steve Rogers remain comfortingly unchanged. No matter how incredible his work, all confidence seems to evaporate the moment Bucky lays eyes on anything.

—

“Give it back asshole!”

“God dammit Steve, YOU’RE the one who asked me to look!”

“Yeah well, I changed my mind, now give it back!”

—

Bucky remembers laughing while Steve chased him around their apartment. He remembers the neighbors banging on the wall, shouting at them to shut up, and he remembers the smell of their forgotten scrambled eggs burning. But most of all, he remembers that drawing - he tucked that portrait of his mother in his rucksack the day he shipped out and it stayed there, a good luck charm all through the war.

Steve had cried when Bucky told him.

Because Bucky’s opinion was always the one that mattered. Seventy years changes nothing.

Tonight, he opens the leather case, revealing three separate drawings. Outlines of black ink and a rainbow of colors paint over the curves and breaks of a human form and he pores over each page. Each drawing is utterly unique, telling the story of Bucky Barnes in metaphors and moments.    

There are no words.

His throat feels suddenly thick, cotton lodged in his windpipe.

“I can redo them,” Steve blurts out. He snatches at the paper, but Bucky spins sideways, blocking the reach.

“The fuck you will. You ain’t touching these,” his voice cracks. Blinking back the flood of emotion, he looks up. “This is - they’re perfect, Steve. Thank you.”

Steve blushes petal pink and coughs to hide his delight. He fails miserably, of course, but that’s one more reason Bucky loves the little punk.

*****

One week later, Bucky stands before a demure brick storefront on a slow Brooklyn side street, the portfolio housing Steve’s three precious drawings clutched tight in a sweaty hand. Glancing at the address in his hand, he looks up to find stenciled letters curving across a glass window.

BROOKLYN INK ESTABLISHED 1973

“Here we go,” he mutters. Before he can lose his nerve, he shoves forward.

Three steps inside the tattoo parlor, he pulls up short.

Wow.

Black iron chandeliers hang from the ceiling, splashing sparkles across plush velvet chairs, rich violet and bright turquoise. The floor is an eclectic mix of reclaimed barn board, full of knots and whorls in every shade of brown. Artwork in black and white frames line the brick wall, tattoo designs, letters and fonts, photos of finished work. The entire space overflows with warmth, and Bucky feels instantly at ease.  

The front desk is empty, but he hears someone rattling around back, so he takes a seat. Piled high on an end table are bundles of photo albums, full of work; he sinks into the cushions and starts flipping through.  

Immersed in the images, he misses the sound of quiet footsteps.

“Are you James?”

The voice startles him and in one swift move, he manages to throw the album on the floor and tumble from the chair. Pages of photographs spill everywhere and he crawls over, hastily scooping them up and babbling one inappropriate apology after another.

“Shit! Sorry, I’m sorry! Shit, I mean I’m sorry for saying shit. Fuck, I didn’t - oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m not usually so - ”

Soft laughter greets him and he looks up in panic, a more refined apology on his lips, but the words evaporate.

Crouching beside him, graceful hands gather up the mess of photos, slipping them back into the album. Dropping it carelessly on the end table, she bounces back to her feet and offers him a hand.

“No worries,” she says with a breathtaking smile. “I shouldn’t have startled you.”

Although he has no need for the support, Bucky reaches mutely for her outstretched fingers because he can’t help but take them. When she tugs, he allows her to pull him up.  

“I’m, um - Bucky. Please, call me Bucky.”

“Hello Bucky,” she says. She shares her name and he repeats it slowly. Clearing his throat, he takes a deep breath.

“Thanks for meeting me so late, I know it’s after hours.”

“Sure,” she says lightly. “So, what can I do for you?”

This is the tricky part.

“On the website, it mentioned you had experience with - with tattooing around scars,” he begins carefully. “Scar tissue I mean. Is that right?”

With his question, her expressions turns serious. She observes him for a long moment.

“Yes, I do. Can I ask how long you served?” she asks delicately and Bucky acknowledges her perception with a short nod. He toys with the zipper on Steve’s portfolio, debating his response.

“Seemed like forever,” he finally says, and it’s the most honest answer he has.

Nodding silently, she motions him behind the counter.

“Come on back, let’s see what you had in mind.”

Hugging the pictures to his chest, Bucky follows, eyes saucer wide as they weave through the work area to her space. The shop smells like the woodsy smoke from the candles sitting along her table, mixed with ink and latex and an odd sterile tang. He inhales and discovers he likes it, the strange scent lighting him up.  

Dropping to her stool, she gestures for him to have a seat. Bucky sits gingerly, wide eyes still staring. When she catches his eye, he flushes.

“Sorry. First time I’ve been in a shop.”

“That’s okay, there’s lots to see,” she says easily. Looking at the portfolio still clutched against his chest, she grins. “Did you have some ideas already?”

He thrusts the portfolio at her. Propping it on her knees, she flips it open and he beams when he hears her astonished gasp.

“I like the colors there, if you think they’re possible?”

“Sure, might take some extra time, but I can do it,” she murmurs, pinching her lip. Turning the page sideways, she examines every minute detail, shaking her head in disbelief. “This is exquisite.”  

“I’ll tell my artist. He’s a real diva sometimes.”

“I’d say he’s earned that right,” she laughs, tracing the paper with a light finger. She flips to the second picture and tilts her head. “The grays and silvers might look nice with midnight blue for contrast?”

Bucky nods eagerly. “Yeah, I love that idea.”

She looks again, examining the intricate design.

“Can you tell me about your pain tolerance? The designs are beautiful, but they’re complex. Each will take multiple sessions to finish.”

Bucky drops his eyes. He heaves a sigh at the obligatory question.

“It’s high,” he mutters. “Very - high.”

Silence follows his admission. When he dares to look up again, he feels a twinge in his chest at the compassion he finds. He offers a rueful smile and she slowly returns it.

“Would you like to come after hours? It can get noisy during the day, if you prefer things quieter. Most soldiers like that better.”

There is a sweep of relief at her casual acknowledgement. He huffs out a shaky breath.

“That would be great. If you don’t mind, I mean.”

“Not at all. I’m a night owl anyway.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says quietly. “Me too.”

She looks back to the portfolio, carefully shuffling the pages.

The third picture appears.

And Bucky sees it, that precise moment when realization sinks in. When she realizes exactly who is sitting in her chair tonight. There is no doubt the drawing gives that fact away. Heart pounding, he flinches, steeling himself for the inevitable.

But nothing happens.

She meets his nervous gaze head on and yet - that gentle smile remains.

“Bucky,” she repeats and this time she understands. “Oh. It’s nice to meet you, Bucky Barnes. Come back tomorrow night, 9pm. Don’t be late.”

He leaves the tattoo shop feeling lighter than he has in years.

*****

TATTOO 1: FOREARM

“Show me a man with a tattoo and I’ll show you a man with an interesting past.” - Jack London

*****

Perpetually early for everything, Bucky arrives at 8:45pm the next night.

The bell over the door tinkles when he enters, and she looks up from the front desk and waves. His stomach unexpectedly leaps and he thinks it must be nerves.

“Hey, Bucky,” her voice is soft.

“Evening,” he says shyly.  

“You ready to do this?”

“Could hardly sleep last night,” he confesses with a grin.

Sliding timidly into her black leather chair, he watches her arrange tools on a shiny silver tray. An arm rest is attached to his right side, and he dries his sweaty palm on his jeans before easing his arm onto the cushion, palm up. When she drops onto her stool at his side, he offers a weak smile.  

“You got the email I sent with all the information, right? Did you have any questions?”

He scrunches his nose, recalling the long, detailed summary she shared. For each of the three tattoos he requested, she gave him a detailed analysis of the process for creating each design; broke down how long each session would take; gave explicit instructions on the healing and care process; confirmed each individual color and how it would be applied; clarified the tools that would be used, including their brand names and how each one worked; she even provided floor plans of her shop - outlining entries and exits and bathrooms and locations of fire extinguishers.

It was a novel of information that must’ve taken her hours, and he was inexplicably grateful for the time she spent just to make him comfortable.

“No questions, I just, uh - thanks. For putting all that together. It was helpful to have all the information. Helps me keep my head on straight.”

“Of course,” she says. “So this first design should take probably 5-6 hours. Since you’re new, we’ll start with short blocks and see how it goes.”

Bucky gives a jerky nod and she pauses, pressing her fingertips against the smooth skin of his forearm.

“Here are the rules. You’re in charge, okay? We can go as fast or as slow as you need. This is not a race, and I have nowhere to be but here. Any time you want to stop, you say the word and I stop. We can take a breather, grab a cup of coffee and start again - or we can call it a night. This is your experience, Bucky. You’re in control. Understand?”

There is a fierce surge of gratitude at her words. Gratitude for her kindness, for her acceptance. Gratitude for her.

“Got it,” he whispers.

And with that, they begin.

Bucky follows each step, while she measures his arm, while she considers the contours and angles of his muscle, while she cleans and preps his skin. When she finally applies a stencil, his heart is hammering so hard his teeth are chattering.

The low buzz of the tattoo machine fills his ears with a click.

When the needles touch his skin, sweat instantly beads his neck. Adrenaline drenches his tongue and for one wild moment, Bucky panics. Wonders if this was a terrible idea, because what idiot asks for pain, seriously Barnes, what the hell is wrong with you, why’re you so stupid all the -

And then - oh.

Huh.

Interesting.

Wide-eyed, Bucky follows her careful strokes, black lines appearing on his skin.

It does hurt - sort of. Obviously nothing he can’t handle; in the grand scheme of his life, this would register as a minor inconvenience, but there is a pinch.

But that spark of pain vanishes, when the raw symbolism behind Steve’s design hits him full force.

Holy shit.

How many times through the decades did Bucky Barnes die? And how many times did he rise, born again from the frozen ash of oblivion? It was simply what the Soldier did. But it was a shadow-life, nothing more. Bucky never knew how close he was to giving up, until that day above the Potomac, Steve’s bloody face beneath his furious fists. He was so far gone, so lost and forgotten, until those memories cracked the Soldier’s fierce veneer.

And suddenly he was Bucky again. Awake and alive. For the first time in 70 years he felt fire in his soul. For the first time in 70 years he could breathe.

Tears inexplicably fill his eyes.    

“All okay?”

Through a tunnel, Bucky hears her voice. Hypnotized by the metaphor inking itself into his skin, his head feels waterlogged when blinks up at her.

“Sorry?”

She scans his face, her thumb rubbing the pulse thrumming at his wrist.

“Everything okay?” She asks again and Bucky feels a potent rush of euphoria.

“Yes,” he says slowly. The excitement bubbles over and he lets out an ecstatic laugh. “Yes! This is incredible. This is - fucking hell, this is amazing.”

Chuckling to herself, she bends back to her task.

“So I guess we’ll keep going?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Yeah, let’s keep going.”

Two hours later, the outline of the Phoenix is inked into his skin, crisp black lines like fresh paint. Long tail feathers are curled around his wrist, the lush feathered body splashed over his forearm, her wings spread open and curving around his arm, her head reaching toward the sky.

Born from ash. Alive again.

Bucky hates to cover it up, but she insists.

“Follow the cleaning instructions and it should be fine. We need to wait between the sessions, give you time to heal.”

At that comment, he fidgets.

“Actually, I heal pretty - fast.”

“I assumed you might. Usually I say 2-3 weeks between sessions, so how about you come back in 1 week and we can see. Let’s just make sure. Does that work?”

Bucky glances at the crisp white bandage on his arm.

“Okay, that works,” he says.

She squeezes his hand and he meets her eyes.

“You did great,” she tells him.

Bucky smiles in return. And he doesn’t stop for the next six days.

*****

When he walks into the shop for his next session, he carries a large coffee for himself and an extra large iced peach green tea for her. When he gets to the front desk, he thrusts the cup at her.  

“Evening. Um, here. Saw you had one last time, so - anyway.”

“Bucky, thank you. I’ve been craving one all day.” She gives the straw an experimental bite, before taking a long drink and for some reason, the silly quirk makes his heart bounce.

After a quick check on how he’s healed, she declares him perfect and they get started, settling into a comfortable silence. After an hour of buzzing, Bucky clears his throat.

“Is it okay to talk while you work?”

“It is,” she affirms, dabbing at the ink. Glancing up, she sees hesitant blue eyes. “I’m good at listening too. Sometimes it’s nice just to listen.”  

Bucky figures that’s a fair statement. He fiddles with a stray thread on his shirt.

“Do you read much?” He asks hopefully, picturing the teetering stack of books beside his bed. She perks at the question.

“I love to read. Have a pile of books on my nightstand waiting for me to find time. What about you? Are you reading anything good now? Any favorites I should know?”

Bucky swallows the happy surprise. If he could, he’d be content to spend the rest of his years with a comfortable chair, a cup of coffee, and an unending supply of stories. He could talk about books for days, he just normally keeps quiet, because most people aren’t interested in that facet of Bucky Barnes.

So he begins to talk.

He tells her how Natasha lent him all her Russian copies of Pushkin and Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, insisting that reading in the original language was infinitely better. He describes how he found a copy of Rumi’s poetry at a yard sale, and what an incredible treasure it was. He flusters recounting how much he cried reading ‘A Fault in our Stars’ and says he was scared shitless to even see a clown for a full year after reading Stephen King.    

He talks and talks and talks, and when he finally stops to breathe, she glances up.

“It’s nice to hear a man who’s so well read,” she says and Bucky preens at the compliment. “Do you have an all time favorite? Something you never get tired of?”

A favorite? No question.

“Yeah, I do. Something I read during the war and kinda fell in love. It’s about here, I guess. About Brooklyn.”

At the description, her mouth quirks, but she keeps working.

“Did you ever think about a book quote for a tattoo?”

Now there’s an idea. He makes a mental note to think of a quote he could add as another tattoo. Or maybe another couple tattoos. Hell, one session in and he’s already addicted.  

The comment tumbles free before he realizes he’s spoken out loud. He blushes at her laughter.

“It can be addicting,” she agrees. Bucky understands completely, seeing the vibrant crimson ink soak into his skin, painting the bird’s feathers. And then she pauses, meeting his eyes with a peculiar expression. “The right words can make you feel invincible.”

Setting the tattoo machine down, she rolls her chair back a bit and sits up straight. Lifting the hem of her shirt, Bucky sees a line of gold text inked below her ribs, his eyes following the flowing cursive.

“She was all of these things and of something more,” he reads aloud.

“‘A Tree Grows in Brooklyn’ is my favorite book too,” she says quietly. There is a long, unbroken moment where they stare into each others eyes. He should say something, he thinks. Something intelligent or witty or anything, but instead he just thinks about the fact that he found a woman in Brooklyn to permanently carve pictures into his skin and she has the same favorite book as him.

Bucky always was a sucker for fate.

“That’s - that’s really - I love that,” he finally says instead.

*****

A week later, Bucky arrives with a bundle of folders and an exasperated expression.

“This is really annoying, but do you mind if I finish some reports while you work? Got behind, someone’s gonna have my ass.” Bucky raises the papers apologetically.

“No problem,” she says easily. “Let’s keep your ass safe.”

Bending back to her task, Bucky snorts a laugh. They’re just a handful of mission reports, normally he types them soon as he returns, but lately he’s been slacking, because lately he has other things he finds more interesting.

Like the scene in front of him.

Together they work, each with their own pen. Bucky writes, she colors, and the clock on the wall ticks along. After awhile, she takes a break to stretch. Rolling her shoulders, she observes him.

“Are you left-handed?” she asks curiously and it takes Bucky a moment to think.

“Oh. Uh, not really,” he says. “But I can switch. Never been a problem.”

At the confession, she raises her eyebrows.

“That’s impressive. I wish I had a talent like that.”

He ducks his head at the praise. And he keeps writing, of course. Maybe adds a bit more flair. After all, the old Bucky Barnes did like to swagger.    

*****

“Well, I think that’s it.”

It takes a beat before Bucky understands what she means. Confused, he peers up at her with a dopey expression and she gestures at his arm.

He feels his heart lurch.

It flames to life along his arm, painted in vibrant ruby red and rich crimson and deep plum, highlights edged in shining gold. Mesmerized, Bucky stares down at the lines of ink and he flexes, the tendons of his arm shifting, and the bird moves. For one wild moment, he believes if he stays still, it could leap from his skin and take flight.  

It leaves him breathless.

“God, this is better - fuck, it’s so much better - than I ever imagined. How did you - wow. I don’t know how you did it, but - thank you. Thank you so much.”

Unanticipated emotion makes his voice tremble. Because this is the first time Bucky Barnes chose something permanent for himself. Serums and metal arms and bullets and blades, those were always forced upon him, his pleading refusals met with violence and sneering indifference.

But this?

This.

This.

This is all his.

*****

TATTOO 2: BACK

“Wear your heart on your sleeve in this life.” - Sylvia Plath

*****

“So, uh, how exactly does this work?”

Standing beside the leather chair while she organizes her inks, Bucky wrinkles his nose. She looks up and motions for him to turn, straddling the chair with his chest pressed against the back.

“Are you comfortable completely removing your shirt? Or would you prefer to leave it part way on? I’ll just need it out of the way for the right side of your back.”

Bucky grimaces. Eventually she’s going to see his shoulder - he knows that - but he’s not in the mood to rip that band-aid off yet.  

“Uh - let’s do part of the way if that’s okay?”

“That’s okay,” she confirms and he awkwardly tugs his right arm free, baring the broad expanse of his back. Tucking his arms in front of him, he slings a leg over the chair and rests his chin carefully on the headrest.

He says nothing, simply stays still while she absorbs the sight. Littered up and down his back are a litany of scars, puckers from the occasional bullet, thin lines from errant blades, and a few other marks he prefers not to define. His voice is muffled when he warily asks.

“Are you able to - work with it?“    

“Absolutely,” she answers firmly and Bucky warms at the decisiveness in her tone. Her confidence makes him feel infinitely more positive.

This is the largest of his three tattoos, stretching from the tip of his shoulder blade and flowing down to his waist. It will also take the longest, but Bucky assures her he has no issue sitting perfectly still for hours.

It’ll be worth it. He can’t wait to show Sam - he’ll get a kick out of this one.

Once she applies the stencil over his skin, she goes to work, dropping into that headspace of deep focus. She works so quietly for so long, he falls into a trance, lulled by the melodic buzz.

When she speaks, it startles him.

“What made you decide you wanted a tattoo?”

He lays his cheek along the edge of the chair so he can see her from the corner of his eye when he answers.

“S’random, but back in ’37, me and Steve were out and I remember walking by this old tattoo shop over in Midtown. They had one of those big glass windows with the chair in front, so people could stand and watch. Anyway, we walk by and there was this kid sitting in the chair, and no fuckin’ joke, he was getting a big heart on his arm with ‘MOM’ written in the middle.”

“Ah yes, the ever popular ‘mom’ tribute. I’ve done a few of those,” she says and Bucky grins.

“Well anyway, I always kinda wanted something, you know? Thought about getting one before I shipped out, but I didn’t, and then it was - “ he pauses for a moment, but she encourages him with a questioning hmmm? and Bucky bravely pushes forward. “I had lots of years where I didn’t get to make my own decisions. And there was so much - bad shit that happened to me. Anyway, I guess I thought if someone’s gonna do something to me, I wanted it to be on my own terms. You know?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “I think that makes perfect sense.”

Bucky sits quietly, contemplating. The question has been rattling around his brain for awhile and it spills free before he can stop himself. 

“The whole process, it feels sort of  - intimate, doesn’t it?”

He flushes at the insinuation, but intimate is the best way to describe it, he thinks, this practice of someone permanently carving their art into your skin.

“It is intimate,” she says softly, leaning closer. “It’s almost like you’re - leaving a piece of your soul under someone’s skin? I don’t know if that makes sense, but that’s what it’s always felt like.”

Bucky nods, watching her capable, artistic, beautiful hands as they move, slowly transferring bits and pieces of herself to him.

What a gift. He holds on tight.

*****

It was bound to happen at one of the sessions.

It’s been dark and rainy for days, buckets dumped from the heavens, the perpetual grumble of thunder always near. When Bucky comes through the front door, he feels like a wet dog. He shakes out his jacket, stomps his boots. He feels off base tonight, the result of bad sleep, bad dreams, and one particularly bad mission. He’s frustrated with himself for bringing it with him, thinks maybe he should’ve cancelled, but the thought of skipping his session - both the ink and her - was too depressing.

So instead of holing up in his room and moping under the covers, he braved the storm.

The one inside and out.

Searching for calm, he licks chapped lips.

“Hey,” he says, cringing when his voice cracks.

“Hey, Buck,” she turns cheerfully, but when she sees him squinting at her through the droplets cascading down his face, his shoulders hunched and tense, she stops. Looks him up and down and her expression softens. Beckoning him back, she digs up a towel and a dry t-shirt with ‘BROOKLYN INK’ stamped across the front, ushering him to the bathroom.

“Take all the time you need. No rush.”

Bucky mumbles his thanks and shuts the door. Gripping the sink, he glares at the mirror, at the smudge of dark beneath his eyes, at the clench of his jaw. Closing his eyes, he breathes slow and deep.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.”

He repeats the mantra, determined to settle. He’s been eager for this session all week, he’s sure as hell not ruining it because he can’t get his idiot brain to stop spinning.

When he finally emerges, he finds her arranging her work space. Halting in front of her, he keeps trembling hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes downcast.

“I’m afraid I’m poor company tonight,” he admits quietly.

“That’s okay. We can reschedule, Bucky,” she says softly and Bucky feels the disconcerting sting of tears. He rubs the heel of his hand against watery eyes.  

“If it’s okay, I’d - I’d rather go ahead. Been looking forward to seeing you - uh, seeing you work, all week. It was just - “ he pauses and fights the temptation to spill his guts. No, he snarls internally, she doesn’t need to hear all your shit.

He clamps his mouth shut and shrugs instead.

She says nothing, but when she gives his hand a comforting squeeze, Bucky feels that familiar surge of gratitude. She guides him carefully toward the chair and he slumps into the seat, automatically tugging up his new shirt.  

“Just close your eyes and breath. You’re okay.”

Bucky rests his chin on the edge of the chair. Troubled eyes flutter shut, and the comforting buzz of the tattoo machine fills his ears, muting the sound of the storm raging outside. When he feels the prick of the needles, he lets out a weary breath. And when he feels the easy pressure of her fingers, he begins to relax.

For hours, she works. Firm strokes, painting the story across his skin.

The dark night begins to fade before she finally sets her tools aside. When he climbs to his feet, she pulls him into a gentle hug.    

Bucky sinks into her arms.

That morning, the sun begins to shine.

*****

Bucky’s been sitting for a couple hours now, eyeing the brick wall behind the chair. A question pops into his head and he feels like a jerk for not asking sooner.

“Hey - all these hours together, and I never asked you - what made you want to draw on people for a living?”

She hums at the question, and he can hear the happiness in her reply.

“Well, I always wanted to be an artist. For my eleventh birthday, my best friend Mike gave me this set of gel pens, there were a million colors. When I told him I wanted to be a tattoo artist, he let me draw pictures all over him for practice. He insisted on being the first person I inked, once I got my license. Would always tell people he was the ‘original canvas’ for my brilliance.”

When she laughs, Bucky chuckles with her; it reminds him of Steve.

“Sounds like a good man,” he says.

“Yeah, he is - he was,” she quietly corrects herself. “He was an EOD specialist in Afghanistan. Right before he left for his last tour, I drew up plans for the arm sleeve he always wanted; he planned to get it when he finished. A month later, he was in a convoy that was moving through the Gereshk Valley in the Helmand Province, when an IED hit his vehicle. He didn’t make it home.”

The story hits home like a kick in the face.

Too many soldiers, too many lives. Bucky reaches back to still her hand. He slowly turns to face her, gently tugging the tattoo machine free and setting it aside. Wordlessly, he offers his hand and she accepts it gratefully, weaving her fingers through his. It takes a few attempts before she speaks again.  

“It took me a long time to get through that. One day I met a friend working down at the VA, and I heard a vet talking about the scars on his legs. He sounded so - sad about them, you know? Kept saying he didn’t recognize himself anymore. And I just stood there thinking, maybe I couldn’t help Mike, but I could still do something.” Staring resolutely down, she considers her fingers still entangled with Bucky’s. “I did some research and took some classes and - learned how to tattoo on scar tissue.”

Bucky gazes at her. He feels a sweep of pride at the way she turned her tragedy into something beautiful.

“I’m so sorry that happened,” he says and she finally looks up, meeting blue eyes bright with compassion. “But you should know, what you’re doing for people, it’s incredible. And if you don’t mind me saying, I think he’d be real god damn proud of you.”

A tear slips down her cheek and she ducks her head, her whisper so low he nearly misses it.

“Thank you Bucky.”

*****

Hours later, Bucky hears a clatter of tools and her huff of relief.

“All done.”

Wiping her hands, she pops excitedly up from the stool and Bucky pushes back from the chair to follow. Without a thought, she grabs his metal hand, tugging him impatiently over to a set of floor length mirrors along the wall. Bucky grips tight and obediently follows, his pulse racing. When she positions him at the mirror, she adjusts the panels so he can see himself from all angles.

“There, have a look.”

Along his spine, the single metal wing bursts free, so intensely realistic, Bucky’s jaw drops. It arches gracefully up, curving over his shoulder blade and sweeping down his back, razor sharp feathers tickling his rib cage before billowing out above his waist. Made from silvers and grays and shaded hints of midnight blue, it glows in the light. When Bucky reaches toward the sky, the muscles shift beneath the ink and it creates the strangest sensation of feathers unfolding.  

All the scars littering his back, a flesh and bone patchwork of memories left by vicious handlers and fights too close for comfort, have disappeared. Blending into the steel of his new wing, their only purpose is to strengthen the image.

After all this time, he’s come to terms with the metal arm so unwillingly gifted all those years ago. But it’s remained a relic of a past life, something heavy, to drag him down.

But now, he rolls his shoulder back and his new metal wing lifts him higher than he’s felt in a long, long time.

*****

TATTOO 3: SHOULDER

“I can bear any pain as long as it has meaning.” - Haruki Murakami

*****

“So our last session.”

“Our last session,” he murmurs.

Bucky thinks for a moment that she seems glum, but maybe that’s wishful thinking.

“This is a tough one,” she warns, “but I think we can do it in one session. I won’t try and cover them up, it won’t work. The best solution is to incorporate your scars into the design. Make sense?”

Bucky pictures the pattern Steve drew, bright green leaves and vines tracing the seam of his arm, melding with the thick ribbons of raised tissue. It doesn’t matter, but he timidly asks anyway.

“Will it hurt?”

“No,” she says gently. Pressing her hand to his galloping heart, she shakes her head. “It won’t hurt much there, but you need to tell me if it hurts here. You need to tell me if I should stop. Remember, you’re in charge, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers.

Steeling himself, he whips off his shirt, balling it up in nervous hands. The cool air blowing through the shop is a relief for his overheated body.

“Do you mind if I feel the skin here? So I can make sure I approach it right?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Bucky mumbles. Staring at his hands, he waits.

Leaning close, her fingers brush over him, feeling the lines and ridges, assessing the canvas. For ten minutes, she tests his skin, lightly pushing and pressing, observing the scars and bumps where metal meets man.  

“Does it still hurt?”

She doesn’t want to ask, but needs to know what she’s working with. With a grim smile, he shrugs.

“Not really. Aches sometimes, but doesn’t hurt. Can’t feel much there besides some pressure.”

Nodding, she pinches her lip. “I was thinking last night, um - would you want to add anything else into the design? Nothing big, but a few flowers? Some daisies maybe?”

“Sure, I’d like that. Any reason for daisies?” Bucky asks curiously.

Pulling out a few additional bottles of ink, she absently touches the necklace at her throat, and Bucky sees a silver daisy spinning.

“Daisies represent new beginnings. Thought it might be a nice way to end, if you like?”

Does he like it? The idea of having this small thing in common?

Hell yes he likes it.

Maybe - maybe he even more than likes it?

“Yeah. That sounds perfect,” he says softly. He swallows hard and she nods encouragingly.

“Okay. Remember - stop me if you need a break.”

This one, Bucky knows will be hard. It was the reason he left it to the end - the mental fortitude required here is much different.

As she begins, he contemplates the pink furrows gouged into his skin. The memory of how they got there flashes before him, a sick image of shredded skin raked bloody beneath his blunt fingernails. Faint screams of a past life echo in his ears, the smokey cry of his own voice desperate for relief from the pain.

Cold sweat slides down his face and he slams his eyes shut, but that seems to make it worse. The images glow technicolor bright, and he grunts a frustrated breath.

And then, through the thin latex of her glove, he feels her cool hand press against his pounding heart. Cracking an eye open, he finds her calm face and he focuses on her, until his breathing begins to ease. Blinking rapidly, he drinks in the curve of her nose, the shape of her mouth, the beauty of her eyes.

His heart stutters, stunning him into a different kind of breathless.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, wide eyes locked on hers. “Yeah, I’m okay. You can keep going.”

When she bends back to her task, Bucky melts. It occurs to him, that perhaps if she might let him, he could be content watching her forever.

But for tonight, this forever lasts only a few hours before she’s done.

And there it is.

Shades of green line his shoulder, the vines curling and winding around his scars, blending them seamlessly into the foliage covering his skin. Spidering vines trail across his chest, and it seems incompatible in a way, something alive bursting from the stark metal, but the leaves look so real, he swears they flutter with each breath he takes. Strewn throughout the greenery, small splotches of yellow and white reveal her daisies and he sucks in a breath.

For the first time in his life, Bucky stares at his scars and a foreign word comes to mind, one he never, ever thought to use.

“Beautiful,” he breathes. “They’re beautiful.”

*****

And so, after 3 months and 30 hours together, they were done.

Hands in his pockets, Bucky gazes at her. Ink on her hands, ink on his heart. It hits him then, this is it. They shuffle, making small talk, neither ready to say goodbye.

“Promise you’ll come back if you decide on anything else. Tattoos, piercings, anything,” she teases and Bucky laughs.

“Told you, I might be a little addicted,” he admits, knowing full well he means to tattoos and to her. “Soon as I can think of a reason, I’ll be back.”

“I hope so,” she says. There is a brief moment where she seems to gather her courage and then she leans in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’re a work of art, Bucky, but - you were before any of this. Remember that.”

Dazed, Bucky touches his cheek.

Indelible and perfect, the tattoo of her lips inks itself straight onto his heart.

*****

When she arrives at the shop the next day, there is a new sight sitting on the front desk.

Daisies, their white petals and yellow faces as fresh as the afternoon sunshine filtering through the window. Bemused, she looks around the bustling shop and spies the card propped beside the overflowing vase, her name scrawled across the front.

-

“When I got home, I stood in front of the mirror for hours, staring at your artwork. Every time I told myself to go to sleep, I found something new I loved. The tail feathers on my Phoenix or the petals of your daisies. What you’ve given me is more than I ever hoped - I can never thank you enough.

But anyway, I remembered what you said - how this kind of art is like leaving a piece of your soul under someone’s skin.

Well, I won’t lie - you must have done, because I miss you already.

So at the risk of being forward (although I did break into your shop and leave this, so maybe this won’t seem that forward), would you have dinner with me?  

I think there’s another new beginning waiting out there, if you’d like to find it with me.  

Yours,

Bucky”

-

At the bottom of the note, a phone number is printed.

Brushing her fingers over the delicate white petals, she pictures him, that dark haired man with eyes like blue ink, so heartbreakingly beautiful inside and out. She feels the unconscious pull of her heart, telling her all she needs to know.

A new beginning.

She says yes.

*****

[lvlyhao]

『you’re dating him but he’s not your bias』

reaction fic; NCT Dream

A/N: this is nct dream’s reaction to realizing your bias is not him (and you’re a couple). gender neutral, got way too deep at some points and was NOT meant to be this long. enjoy.

note that english is my second language and i speak mixing slang, accents and spellings from 3283928 places so i did notice there’s practice written with both s and c down there so

just dont mind it pls

also, today’s photo theme is dream looking cute in low quality shots.

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮𝓼: fluff (♡), angst (❆), comedy (☼), crack (⍢).

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: lots of swearing, my tough love for the neos, one mention of cheating that doesn’t actually happen, a couple of mentions of alcohol and drinking, some violence hidden in metaphors, me being chaotic, it got a bit more angsty and darker than i intended, but we do have all happy endings.

word count: 6.8K

pairing: nct dream members x reader ( includes mark, renjun, jeno, haechan, jaemin, chenle, jisung)

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Mark

oh, poor baby

i feel like he would be a little heartbroken 

just a little

not so much if it’s someone from dream, because they’re his little brothers, but if it’s one of his hyungs from 127 or wayv,,,,,

boy might cry

he’s not super dramatic about it or anything but i don’t see him as being super confident about himself

so he might think like

“do they think he’s cooler than me?”

and it’s silly, yes, he knows

but it’s just something that pops up in his mind sometimes when you bring him up

so for the sake of this fanfic let’s pretend you’re johnny biased

because gods know i am

at least when it comes to 127

mark would be divided into fanboying with you and being like “YO, HE’S THE COOLEST GUY ON EARTH OH MY GOD I’M SO GLAD YOU AGREE”

and

“a h”

<gives you a little tiny smile to cover up the sound of his heart breaking>

would constantly try to get closer to you when johnny is around, and just

showing off in little (kinda dumb) ways

complimenting you

being even more whipped than usual

like yes he’ll give you all of his watermelon slices just please don’t look at johnny like that again

i think johnny would kind of play into it with the whole “imma steal your s/o” thing

and he doesn’t do it to make mark jealous or hurt

we know he’d rather get hit by a train than ever actually upsetting his son on purpose

but we also know he’s johnny

cue “OH DUDE HE’S FLIRTING”

so yeah he might call you lil pet names (beautiful, cutie, you get it)

just to see you giggle 

(and see your soul leave your body)

might say he’s taking you out for dinner when he’s just driving you to get more ice cream for a movie night with the gang lol

and winks

expect a lot of winks

anywhere and anytime

which makes mark sometimes feel like he’s intruding???

and that you appreciate johnny more than him???

he genuinely doesn’t understand how you can date him and still not have him as your bias

don’t you like, love him above everyone else or smth lol

his “showing off” phase eventually fades tho

now every time you hang you with the boys and johnny is around, he’ll be a bit more distant 

he thinks he’s giving you space to interact with his friends but he’s just shying away from competing with one of his favourite people ever

and it’s a competition that Does Not Exist™

but he’s not 100% aware of that

and you’re not that dense 

so ofc you notice

and you wait till you two are alone to talk to him, and he BEGRUDGINGLY admits that you being johnny biased makes him feel kinda small and unimportant

he’d never try to make you change your bias or anything

he just needs reminders that he’s your #1 boy sometimes

which is fine by you

and by him

cus now it’s you calling him pet names all the time

and hugging him

and kissing his cheek

and praising his work

and blowing kisses from across the room

and just telling him straight up that no matter what, you’ll always go to him

(not that you ever had any chance with johnny lmao)

THIS GOES TO SHOW COMMUNICATING IS KEY, CHILDREN

COMMUNICATE

Renjun

wym donghyuck is your bias lol

literally are you fucking kidding him

don’t get me wrong ok

everyone knows renjun loves haechan

they’re bffs and could not live without each other

but at the same time,,,

what is wrong with you

who did he choose as his s/o gods help him

if it was jeno, or mark, or jaehyun, or winwin, or kun, or lucas, or yuta, or taeyong, or ten, or,,,,

literally ANY of his other members

he’d understand your point and be like “ok fine”

but haechan???? hmmm bestie no

he’s not gonna throw a fit

not after the first time you told him anyways

HE WAS SURPRISED OKAY

and he just whined very loudly after having laughed for 5 minutes thinking it was a joke

<flashbacks of that one time he had to sing the ottoke song with haechan on weekly idol>

if you don’t know that iconic scene, renjun had a whole ass meltdown in 3 seconds while yelling “aAAAAAH JINJJAAAAA” and getting ready to punch the living shit out of hyuck

for no reason other than the fact that it’s haechan we’re talking about and injun’s little body is filled with rage

BACK ON TRACK

would probably try to act all cool about it and be like “i don’t mind” but bruh does he mind

and it doesn’t help that haechan is such a little shit about it

he doesn’t even flirt with you

he just

constantly reminds renjun that he’s your bias—not him—and then constantly praises himself over you

“ah, y/n~ did you choose me as your bias because i’m the best vocalist? or was it because i’m the best dancer? mAYBE IT WAS BECAUSE OF MY OH SO BROAD SHOULDERS—”

(pause for injun to punch him)

(unpaused)

and ok in the beginning it was funny seeing him all worked up but now it’s just annoying to be in the same room as these two

haechan won’t let either of you live

and renjun just wants to

fight

so it eventually gets to the point where you’ll talk to renjun and jeno will talk to hyuck cus even the other dreamies are tired of it

except maybe for chenle, he always laughs his ass off when they start bickering

ANYWAY

your conversation goes something like “oh my god renjun i’m literally dating you, i don’t like haechan better or anything you little pile of fury”

while jeno sits hyuck down in front of him and jaemin and just

“bro why are you like this”

“bro”

no but renjun would apologize for going overboard with his protectiveness and jealous energy because he’s not generally like that

he’s angry all the time but never about something involving you, you know

he tries his best to treat you like the royalty you are

but something about hyuck being your bias makes him feel a bit like a castaway???

he’s very creative and as an artsy kid myself i know we’re very prone to feeling left out because we’re just different from the others

so he’d think maybe haechan really has a better voice

or better dancing skills

or he looks better

he is taller than injun after all, and has broader shoulders, and his hair is all fluffy and—

the whole thing just made him insecure about things he had settled with himself long ago

he was fine with being him

but not so much when it came to that

i don’t think you two would fight over it cus tbh i think renjun would really only get with someone who can be very understanding of him

and i think hyuck would actually apologize to renjun too

not when everyone’s around but like, maybe after dinner or something and he just needs to feel like they’re besties again

hyuck never meant for things to get out of control

he just really likes both injun and you as his friends, and aside from skinship his most prominent love language is,,,

teasing

he was really just trying (very poorly) to grow closer to the person his best friend loves so much—you—because renjun is SUCH a big part of his life it would just feel wrong to not be good friends with you as well

don’t tell them i said this but they hug it out

injun strikes me as someone that could take a bit of time to bounce back from something that hurt his pride or his sense of belonging

and his way of healing and bonding is just,,,

art

sure, keep being haechan biased, but also please read with him

and talk about his fantastic animal creations

and watch those buzzfeed unsolved alien theory videos because he really wants to discuss it and maybe even draw what he thinks the aliens look like

hyuck tones it down, you make sure renjun knows you like him for him, renjun starts to (secretly) appreciate hyuck’s talent along with you...

and now let’s take a moment to imagine the minute you watch their latest mv with injun by your side

and yes okay the first thing you see is CLEARLY how good renjun looks because holy fucking shit he’s an angel (and i’m clearly not renjun biased)

but then,,,,,,

wAS THAT A HAECHAN HIGH NOTE

(there’s always a haechan high note, just look for it)

and ok maybe he did scream a bit with you because of how good it all sounded

and you know what, it works out perfectly bc you two are my new otp and you were meant for each other

but we do have to mention the eventual happening of chenle saying like “oOoOoOoH y/N wErE yOu dRoOliNg oVeR hAeChAn AgAiN” after a special stage

and then you, injun and hyuck all attempt to choke him

i’m kidding

or not

Jeno

ah, lee jeno

aka samoyed boi

yes i do call him that no i will not stop

everyone is always writing jeno as being super protective and literally about to burst a lung if someone else ever does as much as look at you

but i just 

don’t see him that way

he’s a taurus and from what i know about taurus they can be v v jealous, yes, but they mainly seek comfort

so he’s fine with you biasing jaemin

as long as you’re not ditching him or anything lol

and ok, imma be 100% honest here even if it sounds like literal no fun (jenojaem wink wonk)

jaemin doesn’t flirt with you

not any more than he flirts with

every other breathing creature

ever

he’s really only platonically interested in you, never remotely romantic or anything lol

on the other side, he is in love with jeno

basically, if jaemin is your bias, jeno is his

so nothing really changes

we know how nomin are, okay

they hold hands, they stare deeply into each other eyes, they nearly kiss at least once every time they go live

it's just them

you gotta respect it bruh

i know this is the most boring reaction ever so let’s create the one (1) instance where jeno would actually dislike that you bias someone else

i think he would feel a bit hurt if you seemed to be more supportive of jaemin’s work than his

and it’s not something big or on purpose

it’s just something like going with him to a recording session but not going with jeno because you have homework

or after a very busy practise day going to praise jaemin first

even if it’s just three words

“you did good”

and then you’re going towards him, he’s gonna feel like maybe he doesn’t deserve your praise as much as nana????

i actually feel like, among the dreamies, jeno is the least confident one when it comes to his performance

he knows he’s not an awful rapper or anything but i think it can be a bit too much, being around such bright and huge presences like the others while his nickname literally means “no fun”

his members are just so loud and full of energy most of the time

and sometimes he just really needs to be quiet and observe in silence 

(yes i do know he’s chaotic and a crackhead, i’m just saying as we know he can be a bit introspective)

so what if you just

stopped seeing him?

did he become invisible to you?

did you finally fall for jaemin’s beautiful smile and stupid pick-up lines?

he’s not gonna let it show that he’s affected, though

earth signs are nearly always the ones to “stay strong” because we have this image that people are relying on us???

so we do what we do

bottle everything up and overwork ourselves bc we only got two modes

1. chill, super balanced and down to earth (ay for the pun)

2. please make us take a break we’re literally about to cry if we work for one more minute but we can’t allow ourselves to fucking take it easy

so yes you’ve guessed correctly, we’re going with 2

jeno is going to go so, SO hard on everything he does 

literally every single activity you can think of from dance practice to photoshoots to cooking for the dreamies

he stays up later than usual to get that one tricky move in the choreo just right

he works out more because he thinks he has to look absolutely perfect for when they shoot the mv

jisung asked for ramen? he’s making it but you bet your ass he’s spending over 40 minutes just chopping so

many

vegetables

AND STUFF THAT JISUNG WON’T EVEN EAT

but he’s doing it anyway for the reason being that it just has to be the Best™

and it’s not like he’s competing with anyone else to be diligent

this is just about being better than he was and showing himself—and maybe you—how painstakingly hardworking and driven he can be

maybe then you’re gonna acknowledge him as much as you acknowledge nana :((

:(((((

writing this is making me downright sad, jeno is so underrated and unaware of his power UGH

and i need to point out this is NOT about making you change your bias from jaemin to him, this is solely about having you recognize his efforts, even if you already do

if you just thought jeno was like going off in work because it was asked of him to, jaemin would DEF notice and talk to you about it

turns out it’s a habit of jeno to go extra hard sometimes and he needs someone to make him take a break

so it goes down like you breaking into the practice room when jeno and jisung were practising

the first reaction is confusion

the second is oh hey babe how are you

third is

a-are you dragging jeno and his bag out of the door while screeching at jisung to order pizza and doughnuts for everyone??

yes you are and i’m proud of you

so jeno is still confused and making those cute “hUh” noises he does omg i love him so much

and you’re just rambling about how much of an amazing artist he is, and you love his voice, and he’s a fantastic dancer, and his expressions and gestures are on point, and he takes such good care of the dreamies and

he’s perfect

and he knows jaemin must have talked to you, and he feels so vulnerable to have you know how on edge he’s been

baby boy just needs some rest

and that’s exactly what you give him, with a bath full of those fancy bath bombs and flower petals and candles at your house/apt

then a quick sheet mask while you massage his shoulders and keep saying how much you genuinely admire him

the mask might be ruined cus he started crying out of exhaustion

after that’s been done and you’ve hugged for at least like 5 min nonstop, you head over to the dorms, where hyuck was in charge of setting up a blanket fort while mork and nana gather board games, jisung gets the food and chenle

well chenle just had to make sure jisung doesn’t forget to order for someone and doesn’t break like 10 plates trying to set the table lol

this is way longer than the others so imma wrap it up

make it obvious and loud that you see and respect jeno’s hard work and he’ll be alright again

and maybe make those game nights a weekly thing when possible, it would make him very happy

he’ll never again feel sad when you praise jaemin cus now he’s sure he does enough, and above all, he is enough

Haechan

haechan = full sun

why would you ever bias someone when you’re dating the goddamned sun

does not understand

but also does not care that much

actually, one out of two really depending on who your bias is

if it’s one of the members he has that tom/jerry relationship with, prepare for so

much

complaining

and clinging

AND HE’D BE SO LOUD OH MY FUCKING GOD

donghyuck please stop screaming about doyoung not deserving to be your baby’s bias, it’s 2 am

on the other hand, if it’s one of the (few) members he,,,

adores with all of his heart and is not afraid to show it

ex: sungchan, jaehyun, taeil and yang2x

then you can bet he’s going to be right beside you whenever you feel like throwing a fit because he’s just so handsome and talented

IF IT’S MARK OSHDISJD

i’m going to write you as being mark biased ok? ok

i honestly don’t know if he’d feel more jealous of mark or of you

he loves you both

a lot,,,,

and he really doesn’t like it when mark blushes when you compliment him

and he doesn’t like it when mark literally just walks past you and you trip over your feet because bro tf u doing, that’s some embarrassing shit

lowkey done with you two

but also PAY HIM SOME ATTENTION

or don’t, he’s fine either way (cue crossed arms and staring at you from across the room until you come give him a kiss)

“he’s pretty cute but i’m cuter right baby”

pouty pouty pouty if he ever feels neglected

will be so fucking annoying lmao i can’t write haechan, i love him but i do understand why renjun is always trying to beat him up

he’d be a show-off in a different way than mark because he can be so petty

will take every chance he gets to pull a one-liner

will sing everything he has to say just so you know he can hit those high notes

what do you mean dream doesn’t have a schedule today

oh man, he could swear they did

because that is the sole reason why he’s wearing his most expensive clothes and shoes + makeup to walk around the dorms, yes

no he doesn’t want to impress you

shut up

will text you like every single fancam he sees on twitter

every

single 

one

and are they mark’s?

lol no, they’re his

he is so genuinely trying to make you a member of his sunflower cult 

<whispers> “tell me i’m your bias” 

“donghyuck what the actual hell why are you standing at the end of my bed in the middle of the night like a fucking demon child”

he really wants to act all cool and composed but he wants to be your bias so fucking bad

he’s a bad bitch all around and just does whatever

cus haechan privilege

and he tends to not care about what people say and think???

bc he knows he’s lee donghyuck

he’s fully aware of the effect he has on people

but you

not biasing him

naw, he can’t take it

will do anything and everything he can to make you say, JUST ONE TIME, he’s your bias

then you can go back to loving (his) mark

so for your sake, for his sake, for mark’s sake

just give donghyuck what he wants

i can promise he’ll keep being an ass no matter what you do

like yeah did you just buy him coffee and his favourite cake? well that’s sweet but iS HE YOUR BIAS YET

“aw babe thanks so much for taking a bullet for me but now please say i’m your bias”

if you still don’t do it, it’s time to be extra petty

will actually drop you for mark

his logic is something like: he can’t be your bias? pity, so he’s just gonna date him instead

and mark is mark so he has no idea what’s going on

everyone in 127 and dream finds this absolutely hilarious cus suddenly donghyuck seems to be doing his best to win over mark’s heart and i mean more than usual???? and he’s treating you like his bro????

<you leaving the dorms to go to uni or smth so you go to hyuck for a goodbye kiss> “no can do, i’m committed”

“i’m your partner”

“no that’s mark”

it’s not 100% a joke when i say i can see him getting down in one knee to propose to mark while making eye contact with you to

assert his dominance

and mark is just

“dude

what HAHAHA”

and you are so done, i’m so sorry you have to go through that bby

i don’t think there’s another way to fix haechan other than just admitting he was your bias for an era, or a comeback or something

like yeah with the other dreamies before him it’s bonding + healing time bc i wrote it all kinda angsty (lol sorry) but with donghyuck

no

“will you stop this if i say you were my bias during reload era”

“mark wasn’t in dream that era tho”

“yes i know”

i say he’s gonna take what he can get and now things can finally go back to normal

with the exception that something else comes along with hyuck being satisfied with you biasing him

he just has a full pass to fanboy over mark now too

what am i talking about?

new 127 mv is out

you: watching it beside haechan and going off about how pretty mark looks

him: going off even harder bc he’s whipped too

this is what a happy couple looks like 

but now i pity mark because he has you two idiots fanboying over him irl

savemork2021

Jaemin

nana is just such a chill and fun guy

i can’t see him being actually jealous or anything if he finds out you bias someone else

and so the two of you become insufferable together

bitch, i’m telling you

he (ur bias) is not gonna have one peaceful day ever again in his entire life

cus you know the thing jaemin does where he just looks at someone doing some random shit and goes “oOoOoH sExY”

yes that thing

he’s doing it to your bias 

and you’re doing it too

and your bias probably wants to run away to some very far away land

PLEASE IF IT’S JISUNG

i’m not gonna write this whole thing as if you bias him but let’s just imagine

two fully grown people

pilling on top of poor, poor park jisung playing games on his phone

“URI JISUNGIEEEEEE

MWOYA, MWOYAAAA~"

i genuinely think he would avoid being around you two at the same time

cus individually he can handle it

like yes y/n please let me go this hug has lasted for about 4 minutes now

or oh hi jaemin hyung my cheeks hurt when you pinch them that hard

but when you two are together

bruh

a power couple not bc you two are v confident or some shit but bc you can and will be extremely affectionate towards anyone that comes too close

and now let’s talk about how it would be if you biased jaehyun

jaemin loves jaehyun

they’re 2jae

2jae are soulmates

therefore,,,, it’s also kinda hellish but in a different way???

bc 2jae are on the end of that spectrum about the neos that know how in love the entire world is with them

they’re too powerful

they’re aware of their charm and they do everything they can to rub it in our faces

so the flirting between 2jae and you would be insane

and i mean insane

insane as in even johnny is kinda disgusted tbh bc

they’re doing a photo shoot with the 23 of them for some shit, idk don’t ask me

and of course, you had to tag along

but oh my god you three, please stop calling each other sexy/hot in weird voices now, the staff is staring

there are def rumours the 3 of you are a poly couple lmao

jaehyun denies everything on social media (throwback to saying “no way lol” when we asked if he REALLY slept in the same bed as jungwoo)

but every piece of content there is of you and jaemin or you and jaehyun or just them is so ridiculously flirty

you can bet there are compilations on youtube like 

“y/n being in love with 2jae for 8 minutes heterosexual”

ok i was having way too much fun with that, moving on

i don’t think he’d ever be actually upset about you biasing someone else

he trusts you and treasures you a lot so he doesn’t see the problem in you also appreciating another one of his members

bc gods know he does

he’s a bit in love with everyone so why shouldn’t you be too lol

one time he would feel a bit blue because of it???

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

i think it’s possible he’d turn pouty or whiny or just kinda needy (not in a bad way, he just misses you) when he’s like

done with people

and needs some time away from everything

we know he’s an introvert, even if he acts very, very loud around the boys and it’s honestly just a matter of time until an introvert grows tired of being around humans

it depends on each person, of course, but there’s a 99% chance every once in a while he’ll start to feel too drained

and he’ll need a break to get his energy back

jaemin would probably want you around even when he feels like that, though

i see you being such a big source of comfort for him in a relationship

he enjoys taking care of people so please take care of him too

and for just this one day don’t talk about your bias that much, or don’t leave nana to go over to him to chat

and just cuddle him a lot

that will make him a smiley baby again

and then things are back to how they normally are

and by that i mean most neos hiding from you because they’re scared 

i don’t have a lot to say aside from that so let’s think about the neos that would be the most intimidated by your shared thot aura

dotae would be confused in different ways lol

taeyong would be just ????????????blush/awkward smile/hahaha??????

and doyoung might actually ask what is wrong with you

<points to jeno and his s/o> “why can’t you be like them”

mark would laugh-scream and slap his knee into oblivion whenever you two are cornering him

but then go super shy and be like “dUDE DON’T DO THAT”

resident confident gay jungwoo would rejoice in the attention and make so many goddamned jokes

a literal comedian i love him

i think sicheng and renjun would be on the same wavelength of repugnance towards you lol

chenle would deadass call you weird and tell you to leave him alone

shotaro and kun might faint (or kun will panic-scold you)

taeil is as confused by affection as usual (have you seen the face he makes when haechan kisses him LMFAO he’s smiling but like wondering wtf happened on the inside)

ten is not very amused but might play into it

yangyang: that’s disgusting, man (cue flashbacks to that live with renjun after the from home stage where renjun pretended to lick his hand and slick his hair back,,, catboy injun,,, you know the one)

xiaojun and hendery are such panicked gays they just turn to stare at whoever else is around and make that “help” expression like they’re on the office

haechan is haechan, kinda doesn’t mind it

jeno is used to dealing with this at this point

lucas and yuta love the attention but while yuta will flirt right back lucas is just gonna smile and try to jop his way out of there while screaming

sungchan will go hide behind haechan and say “hyung they’re being dumbasses again”

this turned into ‘how would nct react to you and jaemin being super flirty together’ and i’m not sorry

Chenle

chenle is so fun to write i love him lmao

okay so

he doesn’t strike me as the possessive type with anyone other than jisung (bc i swear he can be a bit jelly towards his bestie but i think it comes with sungie being the sweetest bean ever, he’s just protective)

he’s such a ray of sunshine and witty jokes and dolphin laughter i love him

back to the plot

he literally couldn’t care less about you biasing someone else

b u t

i will say there’s an exception

this exception is tall, kinda lanky, very awkward and born on the 5th of february

you’ve guessed it, it’s jisung

i think most of the time he’d tease THE SHIT out of you for it because c’mon

you had 22 chances not to mess up

and you still somehow ended up biasing jisung? lol do better next time

and this is not me and chenle hating on jisung, please—

he’d just find it funny that your bias is his best friend and

hold the fuck up

your bias is his best friend

oH NO NO NO NO NO

i think after realizing that he would lowkey try to keep you two apart because he’s somehow jealous of both????

and if he can’t help it then you can bet your ass he will be screaming all along

it’s his sweet, dummy jisung

with his sweeter and dummier y/n

what is he going to do

probably has a mini-breakdown with kun because like he’s always wanted you two to get along bUT NOT LIKE THAT

kun will just sigh like the tired father he is and pet his back while saying “there, there”

and a genius idea is going to come to chenle’s mind

you know the teasing thing?

well it’s upgrade time

he’s gonna turn into such a try-hard with tmi and embarrassing shit you two have done

and he’s not trying to stop you from being friends

he just wants you to like

know who you’re befriending

bc i think since he’s really really close to jisung, he doesn’t want you getting closer to him bc you like his idol side alone

and he doesn’t want jisung getting close to you just because you’re his partner either

if you had high hopes for each other and ended up kinda falling face-first into the ground bc it was nothing like you had imagined—

he’d be so broken

because he loves you so much :((((

so like, if you can get past the teasing and annoying barrier he’s putting up, he’ll be more than happy to have two of the most important people in his life being buddies

so get ready for it

if you’re the type of person to go batshit crazy when you drink, oh boy, oh boy

so you and the dreamies are just having dinner when lele feels like it’s the perfect time to disclose some of your drunken adventures

“hey y/n”

“yeah babe?”

“remember that time you got really really drunk on vodka and candy and wanted to call your mom”

“chenle the hell don’t talk ab—”

“but then you tried using the microwave as a phone”

“...”

“...”

“or that other time you were equally as drunk and watched the make a wish mv and cried because you noticed the height difference between xiaojun hyung and lucas hyung”

yeah so now’s the part you get up to chase him around the dorms and try to land a kick

BUT WORRY NOT, HE’LL MAKE SURE TO EMBARRASS JISUNG JUST AS MUCH

he likes doing that when it’s just the three of you though

so picture this

movie night the girls boys

chenle would 100% pick the most terrifying horror movie he can find so that he could see jisung clinging to whoever’s closest to him

and then right before a jumpscare, he’d whisper like

“jisung”

“w-what”

“why don’t you do that thing you were doing while you slept last night”

(honestly, i’d be mildly scared if i heard lele say this with no context at all)

and then the jumpscare happens and jisung is nearly fainting and crying at the same time

but chenle is laughing

and trying to get out what he wants to tell you between wheezes

“he-he” <dolphin wheeze> “hE WAS SINGING CHEER UP BY TWICE WHILE SLEEPING” <more wheezes>

and look this is just gonna go on for weeks until you and jisung are over it

and stop being weird and awkward around each other

lele needs you two to be bros ok

so be bros

once you do adapt to being pals with your bias i think chenle would take the teasing down a notch just to make you more comfortable

and like he’s so happy now the three of you can hang out and there’s just no tension

happy chenle is the thing i love the most i swear to gods

and if you don’t adapt to it?

well,,,

i honestly think he’d be pretty disappointed, cus it means to him one of you isn’t ready to fully embrace the weirdness within????

and like what u scared of

jisung is a weirdo, what about it, so are you

either that or he’d think you’re maybe being judgemental

so yeah please accept jisungie and your dumbass boyfriend

then everyone can be besties

i love thinking about the three of you as just this hellbound chaotic trio

because chenji already wreak havoc wherever they go as the two of them

but now that you’re coming along,,,,

no neo would escape from your pranks ever again (and even members of other groups lmfao watch out sehun, i’m talking to you)

and it’s so incredible infuriating in a good way that it just turns to be endearing

you’re cute as fuck so no one gets actually mad with the shit you pull????

which is dangerous, someone should really keep an eye out on the three of you 

we don’t need sm to be on fire

well we kinda do cus they’re pretty bad but not my point

i said somewhere above that chenle would tone the teasing down but i don’t mean he’d stop

bc c’mon guys

he’s chenle

no limits here

but sorry, i really cannot write jealous!chenle cus his heart is just too pure and filled with joy for him to be jealous for real

last scenario?

chenle after a comeback stage: ya y/n, i was gonna ask how was my performance today but you were probably more focused on jisung’s arms right

jisung is choking on water somewhere behind you

Jisung

it’s maknae time <plays i.n’s maknae on top>

i don’t mean to picture jisung as being like

ridiculously innocent or just downright naive because i really dislike it when people do that

he’s a literal 19 yo and jaemin himself has said he’s not as innocent as we think lol

however

i do see him as being quite new to all things love 

i think you’d probably be his first partner and with first relationships comes a lot of other firsts

first kiss maybe, first time holding hands, first time being jealous….

first time being jealous, yes, focus on that

i don’t think jisung would be aware that like

you not biasing him is even a possibility

cuz you’re dating

doesn’t that come along????

ah poor baby i love him

if you biased chenle i think he’d be just

disgusted and weirded out but okay?? you do you i guess???

he’s comfortable enough with lele to not feel intimidated

but if it’s another member

ESPECIALLY one of the oldest ones

i think it would be a blow straight to his confidence 

you biasing ten, kun, taeil, taeyong, doyoung or johnny and maybe yuta would make him feel a bit hesitant and concerned

his first thought would probably be that you don’t like being with someone as young as him

and who knows, maybe you’re even younger than him, maybe you’re the same age, but what if you actually like older guys??

what about him then???

and jisung doesn’t mean to feel so worried and insecure, ok, pls understand where i’m coming from

first relationships normally take like a very long time to build trust and acceptance of the other person’s feelings bc it’s literally a whole new world for you

and that goes extra hard for jisung because he is so fucking whipped for you it’s still hard to believe you like him as much

and it absolutely does not cross his mind that you’d cheat on him with your bias, GODS NO

he really respects you and his hyungs 

so no, never

that’s not a thing that can happen

but you realize you’re too good for him and maybe see he doesn’t fit your ideal type?

well, yes, that’s what he’s thinking

probably goes straight to chenle or renjun (he talks about renjun so much asjahj) to vent and ask for advice

i think they’d be surprised to see what’s going on inside his pretty little head because it’s so obvious for everyone that you just adore jisung

and they do tell him that

however, i don’t think it would completely calm his nerves, and again, this has nothing to do with not trusting you

it’s just that

his hyungs are so cool…

HE CAN’T HELP IT OK

would probably try to mirror your bias (i’m saying it’s taeyong for the sake of what i’ve imagined ok) and like

grasp onto some of his qualities?

so in his mind taeyong is: nice, sweet, caring, amazing, perfect, smart, perfect, sexy, mature and did i mention perfect

i can see him trying some new rap styles that mimic tyong’s a bit???

like would lowkey learn his raps from cherry bomb and superm’s one and listen to recordings frequently to pick up on how taeyong does it

i think he’d also just change the way he acts in general to dodge a bit from his maknae image

so now he tries to speak with a more formal-ish language and learns random facts about things you like to seem more intelligent???

“good morning y/n, you look as beautiful as one of voiello’s paintings today :]”

“wait i thought that was a pasta brand”

he’s just trying to show you he can be mature and serious if you want him to

long story short, he’s not acting like himself (not that he’s childish, he’s just out of it) and you don’t like it, so you ask about it and wait for him to feel comfortable with sharing

when he does talk about it breaks your heart so much :((

you’re going to need some patience to try and show him you’d choose him, and not your bias, even if you had the chance

they’re completely different people and you love him BECAUSE he’s jisung, not for any other reason

please reassure him so he can go back to acting like his authentic self, i think it would be such a relief for him too

your words and affection are obviously enough for him, but if it ever happens that he feels especially low and insecure again, it would help if your bias talks to him too

and taeyong wouldn’t have a problem with it

actually, scratch that, taeyong probably knew what was going on all along

he just has that motherly 7th sense (ay) that is even more acute with the dreamies cus like 

127 has him, wayv has kun, but dream has…

the dreamies

and that, my friend, is terrifying

anyway he’d come to talk to jisung asking like “what’s wrong buddy :(“ and sungie would be a bit ashamed because it sounds so silly when you say it out loud

of course tyong wouldn’t judge him, and he just really has to tell jisung what is it you and he are always talking about

it’s him

“when they come around to talk and hang out here it all goes back to you, jisungie. they can’t spend one second without mentioning your name

it’s so cute; it’s always like ‘oh jisung would love this’ or ‘jisung likes it that way’

so please be kinder to yourself and let yourself see that they’re in love with you, not with me and not with any other member they ever mention”

jisung would feel 10000000% better

and smiley

and giggly

and oh my god do you really talk about him that much

LOOK HE’S BLUSHING

would just go over to your house immediately and hug you, burying his face on your neck from behind you

and not let go

ever again

the whole situation just teaches him a lot about accepting your love for him and not questioning it 

shut up i’m not crying

---

final notes: this was my first work after the humanity series and it was so fun lol i think next up is probs gonna be an ideal type scenario for ot23 (but if i really write it i’m gonna post it by subunit and its gonna be way shorter than this, don’t expect 23K words at once lmao)

if you’ve enjoyed this fic please consider reading my humanity series, which is a zombie apocalypse au with kun <3